Grounds for Divorce in God's Law (19:1-12)
Grounds for Divorce in God's Law (19:1-12)
Cf. Mk 10:1-12; Lk 9:51; 16:18. 19:1 ends the discourse of chapter 18 with Matthew's standard conclusion: "When he had finished these words." The setting is debatable. "Judea" in this verse might refer to "the land of the Jews" in general, as Diaspora writers could apply the term, since Perea (usually what was meant by "across the Jordan") was not part of Judea proper (cf. Vander Broek 1983: 128).1 Alternatively, Matthew may write from a Syrian perspective east of the Jordan (so Theissen 1991: 249-50), or indicate that Jesus had, like some other Galilean pilgrims, crossed into Perea en route to Jerusalem (cf. Jesus' proximity to Jericho in 20:29; Hagner 1995: 543). The crowds who follow Jesus, perhaps for healing (19:2; cf. 8:1), are practicing at least one level of discipleship (cf. 19:21); they provide a stark contrast to the Pharisees who come to "test" Jesus (19:3; cf. 4:1; 16:1; 22:18, 35).
Because most early Christian debates with Jewish contemporaries would have focused on Jesus' mission rather than ethics (unless those ethics distinctively stemmed from Jesus), this debate likely reflects the early Jesus tradition authentically (pace Schweizer 1970: 201).
In this narrative Matthew may suggest that the hard-hearted person who cannot forgive or live in proper relation to others in Christ's body (18:1-35) will also despise weaker people in society — in Jesus' day, people like one's wife (19:1-12; cf. Mai 2:14-16) or anyone's children (19:13-15) — in contrast to Jesus, who is unimpressed by worldly status (19:16-22). It is thus no coincidence that in Matthew Jesus' teaching on marital commitment directly follows his teaching on forgiveness (18:21-35), just as in Mark it follows a discussion of sinning against a "little one" (Mk 9:42-50; cf. Mt 18:7-9). The more intimate the relationship, the deeper the wounds of interpersonal friction sear; intimacy without forgiveness and reconciliation proves difficult. Matthew may expect his audience to find in the passage principles like the following (in addition to the hard-heartedness of his community's opponents, which, because the theme is pervasive in the controversy accounts already examined, I will not rehearse in detail; cf. comment on 12:1-14).2
First, Jesus summons disciples to work toward God's ideals, his intended purposes for the world (19:4-6). The Pharisees in this pericope have an agenda: they wanted Jesus to enter into a debate currently raging among two schools of Pharisaic thought (19:3, 7).3 Debate focused on Deuteronomy 24:1, in which a man finds "any matter of indecency" in his wife and hence divorces her. The School of Shammai interpreted Deuteronomy 24 as indicating that a man could divorce his wife for the cause of unfaithfulness ("any matter of indecency")-, the School of Hillel understood the passage to mean that a man could divorce his wife for any cause, even burning his bread ("any matter of indecency" — m. Git. 9:10; Sifre Deut. 269.1.1; cf. m. Ketub. 7:6; Jos. Ant. 4.253).4 In practice both schools agreed that the law often granted the man a right to divorce, regrettable as divorce was (e.g., b. Sanh. 22a; p. Git. 1:1, §4).5
Jesus, however, circumvents his interlocutors' focus based on Deuteronomy 24 by appealing to the focus of Genesis 2.6 The ultimate issue should not be the right to divorce, but God's original desire for husbands and wives to be one flesh (cf. Belkin 1940: 231). The principle of Genesis from which Jesus draws this application goes beyond opposing divorce; it opposes marital disharmony altogether (cf. 1 Clem. 6:3). The "beginning" (19:4; cf. 24:21) refers to the creation narrative.7 Since other Jewish teachers of this period looked to the creation narrative for God's ideal purposes (CD 4.20-5:2; 1 lQTemple 56.18-19, prohibiting royal polygamy),8 including the Pharisaic schools mentioned above (m. Yebam. 6:6, drawing different applications),9 Jesus' argument would be difficult to refute, at least without citing another text to resolve the apparent dilemma (as was the practice: Beraita de R. Ishmael pq. 1.7).10 (Many Jewish speculations about the future kingdom also viewed it as a sort of recapitulation of the beginning, viewing the Endzeit in terms of the Urzeit.)11 u Indeed, the purpose of the Deuteronomy 24 law itself was probably "to check haste in divorce" (Gundry 1982: 380), hence to provide some legal protection for the wife (Luck 1987: 109; cf. Coiner 1968: 368-69).12
According to the Genesis text, a man must leave his parents (19:5). In Jesus' day, early marital residences tended to be patrilocal, with the husband's family of origin (see comment on 8:14); thus citing this text with no further explanation might lead hearers to the view that one's marriage must take priority over one's family of origin. (It may be relevant that in Middle Eastern culture, the strength of a woman's ties to her family of origin is proportional to the likelihood of ending her marriage — Eickelman 1989: 175.) Jesus' call to follow and proclaim him come first (10:34-39; 19:27-30), but after that relationship, one's relationship with one's spouse must take priority over any other.
Although they claim Scripture for their purposes, Jesus challenges their actual knowledge of Scripture by showing that they are proof-texting rather than reading it in light of God's entire plan: "Have you never read?" (19:4; cf. 12:3; 21:16, 42; 22:31). Some other radical Jewish thinkers of that era, like Qumran's Teacher of Righteousness, challenged the contemporary religious establishment with their own interpretation of Scripture. Jesus' objection was not to Scripture but to human traditions of interpretation (15:2-9; cf. 5:17-20; 8:4; 22:24, 32); indeed, here he goes so far as to attribute a saying of the biblical narrator directly to God (19:4-5; Wenham 1977: 28; cf. Rom 9:17; Sifre Deut. 45.1.3).13
Second, the Pharisees, presumably like the opponents of the Matthean community, interpret the Bible in a way that treats others unjustly (19:7-8).
In Scripture, God sometimes allowed what was less than ideal because people's hard hearts made the ideal unattainable (e.g., Ex 13:17; 1 Sam 12:12-13). To be able to exercise some degree of restraint over human injustice, Moses' civil laws regulated some institutions rather than seeking to abolish them altogether: divorce, polygyny, the avengers of blood, and slavery (Keener 1992: 192-96). Jewish lawyers in fact recognized that God had allowed some behavior (marrying a Gentile captive in Deut 21:11-13; according to some, slavery) as a concession to human weakness (Daube 1959); some of their own rulings, such as the prosbul, conceded human weakness in hopes of improving the situation of justice (Daube 1959: 10).
Nevertheless, Jesus' opponents here assume that whatever the law addressed it permitted (19:7; cf. ARN 24, §49B); Jesus responds that Moses permitted this merely as a concession to Israel's hard hearts.14 That his questioners exploit this concession thereby implies their own hardness of hearts, a charge ancients would easily enough apply to those deficient in love toward family members (Epict. Disc. 3.3.5). Thus in Matthew (in contrast to Mark), the Pharisees even exploit Moses' concession as a command (Gundry 1982: 380). Jesus, by contrast, uses Scripture differently (cf. 12:7), here probably seeking to protect an innocent Jewish wife from her husband wrongfully divorcing her (Kysar 1978: 43; France 1985: 280; Davies 1993: 54).15 Other Jewish teachers also recognized that by making divorce more difficult they would protect the woman (e.g., t. Ketub. 12:1).16
Third, Matthew is careful to include an exception for the innocent party (19:9).17 This passage addresses which divorces are permitted (Carson 1984b: 412). Although he keeps the focus on Genesis 2, Jesus in Matthew does side more or less with the Shammaites on the issue of narrow exceptions. Roman law permitted either party to divorce the other, regardless of the other's wishes; except in extraordinary circumstances, Jewish law permitted only the husband to divorce the wife, regardless of her wishes (Keener 1991a: 51; Ilan 1996: 143-44; cf. also Diod. Sic. 12.18.1). Matthew permits a disciple divorce only when the disciple's spouse has already irreparably ended the marriage.
Most of Matthew's audience (except his "scribes" for the kingdom, 13:52) may have been unfamiliar with the debate between the Hillelites and Shammaites active among Pharisees of Jesus' day. Nevertheless, when Matthew speaks of "except for the cause of infidelity," his audience would have understood this as a legal charge,18 interpreting these words in line with the typical meaning of "infidelity" as grounds for divorce, namely, sexual unfaithfulness to the marriage.19 Jewish and Roman law, in fact, both mandated divorce for these grounds.20 Mark and Luke probably could assume such an exception without explicitly stating it (Carson 1984b: 418; Garland 1993: 68). As France puts it (1985: 124):
To repudiate a wife after she had committed adultery was therefore simply the recognition that the marriage had already been terminated by the creation of a new union.... The Matthaean exceptive clause is ... making explicit what any Jewish reader would have taken for granted when Jesus made the apparently unqualified pronouncements of Mark 10:9-12.
Advancing new theories is integral to the culture of the academy, and for this reason among others it is not surprising that, on this matter as on most others, numerous views exist. (I have surveyed these views more fully in Keener 1991a: 28-31; for a more extensive and favorable survey, see Heth and Wenham 1984b; for a recent critique of my own position, see Heth 1995.) Yet in my view many of these arguments seem to evidence little firsthand acquaintance with Matthew's specific cultural setting beyond their immediate proposal. Most views other than the infidelity view imply that Matthew simply permits divorce when the original marriage is not valid. Yet divorce was unnecessary in the case of invalid marriages; further, such marriages were not common enough to warrant Matthew's mention.
Excursus: Porneia As Incestuous Unions?
Many alternatives deny that a valid marriage exists (e.g., Leeming and Dawson 1956: 82), for example, that the woman here is a nonmarried sexual partner (Byron 1963); unions after the first in a polygynous marriage (Ramaroson 1971); or, most commonly, an incestuous union (Meier 1979: 256; idem 1980: 52-53; Caron 1982: 312; Schedl 1982; Wambacq 1982; Witherington 1985), though nothing in the context supports such a narrow reading of the term here (if anything, porneia should mean more than adulterous infidelity; cf. Belkin 1940: 230-31; Luz 1989: 305; Overman 1996: 280).21
The incestuous-marriage interpretation not only demands too narrow a sense for porneia; it also requires us to suppose a situation that must have been so rare as barely to warrant mention, especially if we assume a Syro-Palestinian provenance for Matthew. To be sure, many Jewish people suspected Gentiles of widespread incest (Sib. Or. 5:390-91; cf. Gen. Rab. 18:5; 52:ll);22 their suspicions, however, probably misrepresented the actual degree of incidence of the activity. Marriages of full brothers and sisters appear in Egypt (Paus. 1.7.1; Diod. Sic. 1.27.1; Sext. Emp. Pyrrh. 1.152)23 but were widely rejected elsewhere (e.g., Diod. Sic. 10.31.1; Gaius Inst. 1.61). Other kinds of incest were condemned throughout the ancient Mediterranean (Diod. Sic. 5.55.6-7; Cic. De Leg. 2.9.22; Gaius Inst. 1.59-64; Plut. R.Q. 108, Mor. 289D; Parallel Stories 19, Mor. 310BC; Juv. Sat. 2.32-33; 4.8-9; Tac. Ann. 16.8; Suet. Calig. 23-24; Nero 28; Minucius Felix Octavius 31.1; Apul. Metam. 10.3; Philost. V.A. 1.10; 1 Cor 5:1).24 Indeed, the incest taboo is almost universal,25 although the range of forbidden degrees of kinship outside the direct parental line varies considerably from one culture to the next.26 Further, the term porneia does not appear in Leviticus 18 LXX, and Jewish law would not require a divorce to dissolve a union it regarded as incestuous (Sigal 1986: 101).
Not only the incestuous-marriage view, but most of the specific proposals for the meaning of porneia give it a more restricted sense than it normally bears unless explicitly qualified, which it is not here (as noted by many commentators, e.g., Hagner 1993: 124); they also miss how such a term (used in its unqualified, general sense) would function in a usual legal context (e.g., B.G.U. 1052 in Sherk 1988: 243; Suet. Julius 6, 74; cf. Safrai 1974/76b: 762).
"Except for infidelity" may modify Jesus' statement about divorce rather than remarriage, 27 but if it does it does so precisely because, in Jesus' graphic statement,
it is the validity of the divorce that is in question.28 No one permitted remarriage
if a divorce were invalid, but a valid divorce by definition included the right to
remarry, as is attested by ancient divorce contracts (see, e.g., m. Git. 9:3; CPJ
2:10-12, §144; Carmon 1973: 90-91, 200-201; cf. B.G.U. 1103, cited by Barrett)
and the very meaning of the term (besides sources in Keener 1991a, see especially
Jos. Ant. 4.253; cf. Blomberg 1992a: 111; Hagner 1993: 125). Jesus' point is at any rate not to break up second and third marriages — as if the hyperbolic element in his graphic statement may be missed (even for guilty parties) — but to underline in no uncertain terms the sanctity of marriage and the solemn responsibility of a disciple to preserve it when this is at all possible.29
Finally, remaining single is sometimes the price of following Jesus (19:10-12). Some doubt the passage's authenticity (Ilan 1996: 62), but if John and Jesus remained unmarried, it is not implausible that Jesus spoke about celibacy, although not necessarily in this context.30
Jesus here addresses all disciples "able to bear" his teaching. Some scholars have argued that Jesus here recommends celibacy specifically for all men divorced for the sake of the kingdom,31 but this reads Jesus' response as if the disciples had not raised an objection in verse 10. Proponents of this position argue, "The antecedent to 'this precept' in verse 11 is not the disciples' words in verse 10 ... but Jesus' precept in verse 9" (Heth 1990: 106). But one might ask why an interpreter would jump back two verses instead of thinking that Jesus answered his disciples' question immediately preceding in verse 10. To answer this objection, some therefore suggest that 19:26 similarly jumps back. Unfortunately for their argument, 19:26 may refer back to 19:25's question after all; further, Jesus normally answers disciples' questions directly (e.g., 13:10-11, 36-37; 24:3-4), though sometimes impatiently (e.g., 15:15-16).32
If 19:9, like 5:32, allows innocent parties in a divorce to remarry, then this text has no more reason to address them than others; if 19:11-12 did refer to divorce, it would also assume the Matthean exception just stated in 19:9. The general context is not divorce but family (note children in 19:13-15; Trocme 1975: 203; Meier 1979: 138-39; cf. also the background of household codes some have suggested here — Anderson 1976: 239; Carter 1994: 203). Further, this passage represents not a command but an exhortation to those with the gift (cf. Meier 1980: 216-17).33
If, by contrast, we read the text in sequence, the disciples are concerned about the danger of marrying without an escape clause, and Jesus responds to their question (Carson 1984b: 418-19; France 1985: 282). Ancient marriage contracts typically included arrangements in case of divorce (e.g., P. Ryl. 154.28-33), though this was normally expressed as a "just in case"; it was naturally not the outcome for which parties entering a marriage hoped (cf. P. Oxy. 1273.25, A.D. 260). If a marriage did not work, divorce was a relatively simple option (Terence Lady ofAndros 567-69; Keener 1991a: 50-52). Many sages considered it a duty to divorce a "bad" wife (e.g., Sir. 25:26; b. 'Erub. 41b; Yebam. 63b; p. Ketub. 11:3, §2; Gen. Rab. 17:3; Lev. Rab. 34:14); Plutarch ridiculed a man who failed to divorce such a wife as cowardly (Plut. Virtue and Vice 2, Mor. 100E). Parents arranged marriages, and according to tradition, in Galilee at least, one could not spend time alone with one's prospective spouse until after the wedding (Safrai 1974/76b: 756-57; Finkelstein 1962: 1:45); one could not always know in advance what one's spouse would turn out to be like. To marry without the possibility of divorce in a painful marriage seemed worse than not marrying at all! Responding to this objection, Jesus replied that some would indeed be better off not marrying; perhaps because of the intensity of their callings, it would be difficult for true disciples to find compatible spouses who would share their commitment (cf. the story of Crates and Hipparchia in Keener 1991a: 64; cf. Mt 10:35-37).
Jesus' remark about celibacy is graphic and would certainly seize the attention of Jewish listeners; the first two eunuch images prepare the reader for the "eunuch for the kingdom" (Malina 1981: 5-6). Jewish teachers could distinguish those who were born without sexual organs and those on whom an operation was performed (Manson 1979: 215; cf., e.g., t. Yebam. 10:3; Sifre Deut. 247.1.1-3; p. Yebam. 8:5, §1), but Jewish people were horrified by castration (e.g., Test. Jud. 23:4; Ps-Phocyl. 187; Jos. Apion 2.270-71; p. Yebam. 8:1, §11), and those who "made themselves eunuchs" were viewed as morally depraved (Jos. Ant. 4.290). Most people looked down on eunuchs for their impotence or effeminity (cf., e.g., Juv. Sat. 1.22; Epict. Disc. 3.1.31; Ps-Lucian Affairs of Heart §21; Babrius 54.4; Lucan C.W. 10.133-34; Jos. Ant. 4.290-91) and recognized that their desires would never be fulfilled (Sir 20:4; 30:20);34 some recognized that eunuchs were at a disadvantage (Phaedrus 3.11.4-5) but through no fault of their own (Phaedrus 3.11.6-7; cf. Aul. Gel. 4.2.6-8). "Eunuch" (lit. "half-man") could function as an insult (Virg. Aen. 12.99). Whereas some Gentiles equated Jewish circumcision with a form of castration (cf., e.g., Herr 1978; Pesiq. Rab Kah. 3:6), Jewish people did not allow eunuchs into the covenant, based on Deuteronomy 23:1 (though cf. Is 56:4-5).
The figurative sense of celibacy in which Jesus means the language (cf., e.g., Ach. Tat. 5.22.5; 6.21.3) would have been less jarring, but nonetheless offensive, to most of his contemporaries (see especially Tannehill 1975: 136-37). Although some pietists in the wilderness may have preferred celibacy (Jos. Life 11; War 2.120; Ant. 18.21; Philo Hypothetica 11.14; Pliny N.H. 5.15.73; CD 12.1-2),35 mainstream Jewish society regarded marriage and childbearing as solemn responsibilities (Keener 1991a: 72-78).36 A metaphor of such shame and sacrifice testifies to the value of the kingdom of God for which anyone would pay such a price (Tannehill 1975: 138-40); by embracing both shame and self-control, Joseph to a lesser extent models the nature of this demand (1:25).
The Kingdom Belongs to Children (19:13-15)
Cf. Mk 10:13-16; Lk 18:15-17. Jesus here reiterates his teaching in 18:1-6 — which his disciples have apparently forgotten (cf. again 21:15).37 Some have argued that peasant parents often avoided undue attachment to infants due to the high mortality rate (Dixon 1988: 113); clearly Greek and Roman fathers often exercised their legal right to discard unwanted infants.38 Palestinian Jewish society was not so calloused, however (Jos. Apion 2.202; Diod. Sic. 40.3.8; Tarn 1974: 102), expressing love for children (cf. Abrahams 1917: 118-20; Falk 1974/ 1976: 508-9); examples even exist of taking children to prominent men for blessing, as here (cf. Jeremias 1960: 49; Hill 1972: 282; France 1985 : 283).39 It is doubtful, however, whether the parents who sought Jesus' blessing knew either the power of his hands (3:12) or the power of his prayers (21:21-22).
One was not permitted to oppress minors or other powerless people (e.g., b. Sanh. 25b); the issue is simply that children were expected to be obedient and in their place (cf. Jeremias 1971: 227-28).40 Children were low-status dependents; they had to trust adults and receive what they provided (cf. Best 1976: 133-34). Low in status, they could not be permitted to deter a teacher like Jesus from "important" matters — at least, this was the view of the disciples (19:13). Disciples, who owed great respect to their teachers, typically sought to avert other interruptions for them (2 Kings 4:27; Diog. Laert. 7.7.182). Jesus responds like Elisha to disciples seeking to shield him from others' supplications: "Let the person alone" (2 Kings 4:27). Later, lest Jesus be delayed in his mission to establish the kingdom in Jerusalem, crowds try to silence blind beggars (20:31). It seems that in both passages, as in the parallel passages in Mark, disciples and crowds alike fail to understand what Jesus' kingdom is really about — caring for the weakest rather than engaging in political triumphalism.
The Cost of Discipleship (19:16-22)
Cf. Mk 10:17-22; Lk 18:18-23. If the kingdom belongs to children (19:13-15), those who receive the kingdom as humble dependents (18:1-6), then someone accustomed to being powerful and supporting dependents might find it difficult to enter life, the kingdom (cf. 5:20; 7:14; 18:8; 25:46).41 This is the illustration with which 19:16-24 confronts Matthew's community: wealth and status make perfect surrender to God's will more difficult because those who have it think that they have more to lose. Many examples of faith in the Bible are acts of desperation; few are the acts of self-satisfied individuals. Ultimately, one who would receive the kingdom must not only obey like an obedient child, but relinquish one's worldly possessions and cares, acknowledging the absolute authority of the ultimate king (19:16-22).42
Those who want eternal life must obey God's commandments (19:16-20). How to obtain eternal life (19:16; cf. 18:8) was not an uncommon sort of question to address to a religious teacher (b. Ber. 28b, bar.; Tamid 32a; cf. Lk 3:10; Acts 2:37; 16:30). That this young man43 addresses such a question to Jesus shows great respect; that in Mark he also calls him "good teacher" likewise shows respect (though the rareness of the expression may suggest that he is "overdoing" it; cf. Bailey 1980: 162). In Mark, Jesus shifts the title "good" to God alone, which comports well with Jesus' teaching style whether or not one assumes a high Christology (cf. Lk 12:14; for the emphatic character of the statement and its consistency with some Jewish teaching, cf. Vermes 1993: 159). Traditions emphasize the humility of radical Greek teachers who might deflect praise in very similar manners (Diod. Sic. 10.10.1). Yet such wording allows various interpretations, hence Matthew words the young man's query and Jesus' response differently than Mark; the man calls him simply "teacher" (according to the most likely textual reading; cf. 9:11; 12:38; 17:24; 22:16, 24, 36; 26:18). Matthew elsewhere emphasizes a high Christology in traditional Jewish language (e.g., 1:23; 18:20) and does not wish to risk christological ambiguity here (cf. Gundry 1982: 385; Goulder 1974: 41; Moule 1965: 80). Thus the question becomes, "What good thing shall I do to obtain eternal life?" and Jesus responds with a typical counterquestion: "Why do you ask about what is good?"
Jewish teachers recognized that just as they praised God as good,44 so also his commandments are good.45 (Matthew's wording here is good Palestinian idiom: "There is [only] One who is good" employs a typical circumlocution.) Consequently, Jesus tells the man what "good" thing he must do: show his fidelity toward God's covenant by obeying his laws (cf. 5:43; 15:4; 22:39; and the vice list of 15:19). Undoubtedly he even gave to the poor, as Jewish law demanded (see comments on 6:2-4). These laws were part of first-century Jewish culture, and the young man is convinced that he has kept these laws (cf. Odeberg 1964: 60).46 (That he is unwilling to spare all his goods to help the poor will soon bring into question whether he really loves his neighbor as himself, however — 19:19-22.) But if he is really ready to submit to the yoke of God's kingdom, he must also become a follower of Jesus and submit to Jesus' demands.
Jesus summons a person who wants to be a disciple to absolute commitment (19:21-22). 47 Lists of virtues constitute a common rhetorical form (e.g., Theon Progymn. 9.15-24; Plut. Stoic Contradictions 7, Mor. 1034C; Corn. Nep. 15 [Epaminondas], 3.1-3; Philo Sacrifices of Abel and Cain 27). The commandments listed in 19:18-19 are human ward, summarized in the decree: "Love your neighbor as yourself' (Lev 19:18); by adding these words from 22:39, Matthew underlines this point. Yet if God alone is "good" (19:17), the man is lacking in some way (he himself admits it in 19:20, allowing Jesus to echo 5:48's call to "perfect obedience" in 19:21). True obedience to God's commandments requires the submission of the heart, abolishing anger, lust, and so forth (5:21-47), but Jesus takes the man at his word that he has kept these humanward commandments. Now the man's allegiance to the Godward love commandment (22:37-38) is tested: Does he serve God or money (6:24)? The loss of one's wealth or fear of how one's needs will be met can test disciples in this way (6:19-34; cf. 13:22); so also can the needs of the poor, as here (19:21). Love for God demands a true love for neighbor that not only avoids harming that neighbor but actively serves that neighbor (cf. comment on 5:40-42). One is also less likely to maintain possessions when one recognizes that disciples are merely stewards or managers to execute the master's will (24:47; 25:14). The young man wanted a "teacher" (19:16); he did not want a Lord who demands sacrifice (20:20-28). No wonder the man was "grieved" (19:22; for the strength of this term, cf. 17:23; 18:31; 26:22, 37).
By "going" (also 8:4; 20:4; cf. 10:6; 28:19) and abandoning all else (cf. especially 13:44), the man could have "followed" Jesus (19:21), that is, become his disciple (cf. 4:19; 8:22; 9:9; 16:24). The kingdom demands more than merely keeping many commandments; if a disciple would recognize Christ as his king, that disciple must surrender to him possessions, life, and even identity (cf. Johnson 1981: 17; Lane 1974a: 367). Whether Jesus then allows the disciple to use some of what the disciple has surrendered is Jesus' choice. Such words would have a jarring effect; mainstream Jewish teachers probably assumed — as later teachers codified — that one should not give away all one's possessions lest one be reduced to poverty oneself (Lane 1974a: 367; Jeremias 1969: 127; one might make an exception if necessary to serve one's parents — Bonsirven 1964: 147).
Jesus generally called his own chief disciples (Mt 4:19, 21). Yet on some occasions prospective disciples did approach Jesus (8:19); and, as here, Jesus sometimes thrust them aside — probably, like some other ancient teachers, to test the would-be student's real willingness to become a learner. Early Jewish and Greek tradition seems to assume that disciples are responsible for acquiring their own teachers of the law (m. 'Abot 1:6, 16; Socrates Ep. 4). But Cynic and Stoic teachers sometimes rejected would-be disciples. Thus, for example, after Diogenes reportedly persisted in following Antisthenes despite the latter's attempts to drive him (and others) away (Diog. Laert. 6.2.21), he apparently adopted this initial rejection as a pedagogical technique for his own would-be disciples (Diog. Laert. 6.2.36); similar stories are told of the early Stoic Zeno repulsing rich young men, unimpressed by their worldly status (Diog. Laert. 7.1.22; cf. Mt 19:21). Such behavior was not simply legendary; an eyewitness reports that one Stoic wittily put a rich challenger in his place (Aul. Gel. 19.1.7-10) but then provided a reasonable private explanation for a more respectful, philosophically inclined inquirer (19.1.12-21).48
But in each case, the teachers finally embraced those disciples who persevered despite the rough treatment (Diog. Ep. 38; cf. Sifre Num. 115.5.7). Diogenes also successfully exhorted Crates to "throw into the sea any money he had" (Diog. Laert. 6.5.87). Diogenes was happy to attract disciples — provided they were willing to pay the appropriate price for following him, which could include forsaking one's family (Diog. Laert. 6.2.75-76; cf. Mt 4:22; 8:21-22; 10:35-37; for disciples sacrificing materially to follow rabbis, see Young 1989: 214). Would-be philosophers needed to count the cost before getting involved (Epict. Disc. 3.15.8-12).
When Jesus turned away prospective disciples with heavy demands, he probably intended his demands much like those of some other teachers: disciples must count the cost, repudiate their prior assets, and recognize the incomparable value of his teaching (cf. Lk 14:26-35 in the context of Lk 15:1-32). Persistent seekers throughout the Jesus tradition display the appropriate response: the Canaanite woman (Mt 15:25-28), the blind men (Mt 20:31-34), the Gentile centurion (Mt 8:7-13), and Jesus' own mother (Jn 2:3-9). Jesus' sorrow over the unwilling disciple (Mk 10:23-25) indicates that he hoped not to turn disciples away, but rather to make them genuine disciples, which they could do only by counting the cost and choosing the narrow way of following him. If one accepts Jesus' terms of unconditional surrender to him, however, he promises an unlimited supply of what truly matters (19:23-30).
Sacrifice and Reward (19:23-30)
Cf. Mk 10:23-31; Lk 18:24-30. Jesus had promised a man treasure in heaven ("with God" — Jeremias 1971: 9) if he followed him (19:21; cf. 6:20); the young man preferred to keep his treasure on earth (19:22). Those who would follow him must receive the kingdom by grace — as helpless dependents (19:13-15) — but receiving the kingdom also means embracing God's rule, surrendering everything to Jesus without exception (cf. 13:44-46).
First, Jesus warns that the powerful can scarcely enter the kingdom at all (19:23-24). Camels were common beasts of burden among traveling Arabs (Babrius 8), known for their strength (Aelian Animals 4.55) but not particularly for gracefulness (Babrius 80.3-4). Jesus apparently employs a common figure of speech when he speaks of a camel passing through a needle's eye. In Babylonia, where the largest land animals were elephants (cf. Ach. Tat. 4.3.5; Lucian Lover of Lies 24), Jewish teachers could depict what was impossible or close to impossible as "an elephant passing through a needle's eye" (Abrahams 1924: 208; Dalman 1929: 230; Jeremias 1972: 195; Bailey 1980: 166, citing b. Ber 55b; B. Mes. 38b). In Palestine, where the largest land animal and beast of burden was a camel (cf. 23:24; b. Ketub. 67a), describing the impossible as a "camel passing through a needle's eye" may have been a common expression as well.49 (Some commentators speculate that the "needle's eye" referred to a low gate in Jerusalem peasant homes into which a camel could enter if it cast off its load; there is no evidence, however, for such a gate, and a "needle's eye" meant then essentially what it means today; cf. m. Shab. 6:3.)50 Despite many interpreters' attempts to evade the force of the saying,51 toning down the hyperbole robs it of its intended force: the rich and powerful could barely enter the kingdom at all.
Such a statement shocked the sensibilities of the disciples even more than 19:10 had; in the story world of the Gospels, they share the values of Jesus' enemies (Rhoads and Michie 1982: 91-92; Mt 16:23). Presumably because many of their contemporaries viewed wealth as a mark of God's blessing (e.g., Ep. Arist. 204-5; m. 'Abot 4:9; Qidd. 4:14), the disciples may have assumed that Jesus' standard for people who were not rich was even stricter: "[If not the rich], who then can be saved?" (19:25). Yet because God alone is good (19:17), salvation by merely human means is impossible for anyone; only with God is salvation possible.52
Second, Jesus promises the kingdom to whoever follows him (19:25-30). The disciples emphasize that they have forsaken all to follow Jesus, and he does not dispute their claim (19:27-28; 4:22). Nevertheless, the rest of Matthew's narrative casts its shadow back over this pronouncement: even once disciples have committed their lives to him, they must watch and pray to be ready for still other tests. Faced with loss of possessions, the rich young man walked away (19:22); faced with possible death, Jesus' disciples would later abandon him and flee (26:56).53
Because families might oppose Christ's call to discipleship, a true disciple must be prepared to abandon not only possessions but family (19:29; cf. 8:21-22; 10:21,34-37; 19:10-12) for Christ's name (cf. 5:11; 10:22; 24:9). Jesus himself (12:46-50; 13:55-57) and probably many in Matthew's Jewish-Christian audience had suffered rejection by their families, a pain felt much more severely in that culture than in ours. In response to such sacrifices, however, God would multiply the disciples' resources (19:29), precisely because in the kingdom they find a new and larger family than the one they may have left behind, and as a family true believers share their resources with one another (cf. Acts 2:44-45; 4:32-35; Kee 1977: 109-10; Lane 1974a: 372; Tannehill 1975: 147-52; Rhoads and Michie 1982: 92).54 To at least some degree the second- and third-century church exemplified this ideal (cf. Stark 1998: 30). Matthew seems to assume Mark's stated meaning that part of this reward comes in the present age (cf. also in some Jewish texts, e.g., m. Qidd. 4:14; t. Pe'a 1:2-3; b. Menah. 44a, bar.); this in turn assumes that the church will live like the community of God's kingdom, that his will may be done on earth as it is in heaven (cf. 6:10). While such words may have encouraged early faith missionaries (Trocme 1975: 203; Rhoads and Michie 1982: 92), they just as readily address a persecuted church (Heb 10:34).
Specifically to these twelve who forsook their livelihoods to follow Jesus' call he promises that they will sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel (19:28). Some scholars suggest that this Q promise must be authentic, preceding the betrayal by Judas (Manson 1979: 217). The "Twelve" continued even after Judas's betrayal (1 Cor 15:5), but one would expect any later prediction pretending to be prophecy and addressed to the Twelve to stress the condition of perseverance, given the church's knowledge of Judas's failure (Sanders 1985: 100: idem 1993: 190; Witherington 1990: 140-41). Further, though later Christians might have invented a tradition about their apostles reigning, they certainly would not have limited their rule to Israel (cf. the probable reapplication to the whole church even in Rev 21:12-14). Given Mark's skepticism about the first disciples (perhaps about disciples in general), it is not difficult to see why he would have omitted this promise, even if this is the point at which it appeared in the tradition. Stylistic evidence also favors an early tradition (Martin 1988: 8-9). Although it may also have been a free-floating tradition (22:28-30), it is possible that the promise may have been transmitted as part of Jesus' eschatological discourse (D. Wenham 1984b: 101-34).
That Jesus would reward his loyal followers would not have surprised them; they seem to have expected as much (16:16, 21-22; 20:20-22). Jewish people in Palestine understood that the fate of client kings could rest on their allegiance to the appropriate party in a larger conflict; thus when Mark Antony, Herod the Great's patron, lost to Octavian (Augustus Caesar), Herod recognized his own imminent peril and quickly sought Octavian's pardon for having followed the wrong patron (Jos. Ant. 15.161-63, 187-201). When a patron achieved political success, he rewarded his supporters; thus, for example, Sejanus saw to it that Pontius Pilate was prefect of Judea, though Pilate's political fortunes eventually declined with those of Sejanus. Ancient readers also expected such treatment in the divine sphere: Greeks told of Phrygia's destruction for rejecting gods in human disguise (Ovid Metam. 8.620-724) and emphasized divine personages like Dionysus who would come unrecognized, punishing those who rejected them (cf. Eurip. Bacchants). Judaism maintained its biblical tradition of a future day of judgment that would cut through the ambiguities of present existence.
Thus "when the Son of Man begins to rule from his glorious throne" (19:28; cf. 25:31; for "glory," 24:30), those who had followed him in his humble estate would "rule" (a common sense of "judge"; cf., e.g., Judg 4:4; 10:3; 12:7-14; 15:20; 1 Macc 9:73) Israel's twelve tribes.55 Indeed, Jesus probably chose twelve disciples with such a connection in mind; see comment on 10:1 (cf. the reign of the twelve patriarchs in Test. Jud. 25:1-2; Rev 21:12-14; or of the tribes over the world in Test. Abr. 13A).56 The language of the "regeneration" could suggest the Stoic idea of a cosmic configuration, ending one of the universe's periodic cycles (cf. description in F. F. Bruce 1972b: 44; Philo Aet. 85; Vit. Mos. 2.65);57 but in a Jewish context this must refer to the time of the new creation (Acts 3:19-21),58 applicable especially to the time of Israel's restoration (cf. Jos. Ant. 11.66; Acts 1:6-7; 3:21, 25) and the resurrection (cf. Jos. Apion 2.218, though cf. also War 6.250). From Isaiah (65:17) on, this was a familiar Jewish hope (see, e.g., Black 1961: 135-36; Gaster 1976: 23). Of course, the graphic rather than precise nature of Jewish teachers' language allowed for the superlative exaltation of multiple disciples (e.g., m. 'Abot 2:8; see comment on 5:19; cf. 20:23).
Whatever the original setting of the saying, however, in its Matthean context it emphasizes a point that extends beyond the Twelve: those who sacrifice now and become least in this age will inherit the place of honor in the coming age (19:30-20:16; 19:30 and 20:16 function as an inclusio, bracketing the enclosed parable). The disciples' reward in the kingdom would be commensurate with their sacrifice for that kingdom.
Reversal of Fortunes (19:30-20:16)
The parable in 20:1 -16 explicitly illustrates the point that the first will be last and the last first;59 Matthew uses this principle (19:30; 20:16) to frame the parable (the literary device called inclusio) and hence to summarize its primary point (reversing the elements chiastically). The principle appears at the same point in Mark, ending Jesus' comments about the rich young ruler (Mk 10:31); Luke has made use of it in a more topical eschatological context addressing Jews and Gentiles (Lk 13:30), perhaps aware that the saying also floated freely in oral tradition. But while Matthew alone includes this parable of laborers in the vineyard, Matthew did not invent the parable; starting with the principle alone, one could have created a parable that would have illustrated it with a closer correspondence than equal pay for unequal labor.
In its original setting, the parable may have addressed Israel and the nations (as in 21:33-44; the way Luke employs the detached saying in Lk 13:30). One may compare the parable in Sifra Behuq. pq. 2.262.1.9: a king paid other workers a modest wage, but to an especially hard worker, symbolizing Israel, he provided much pay. God repaid Gentiles for their little good in this life, but would repay Israel all she deserved in the coming world.60 Still, the parable could also fit Jesus' emphasis on the poor and on embracing sinners (Jeremias 1972: 37), a more Lukan emphasis Matthew included but emphasized less than Luke did. Whether one thinks of Gentiles or other excluded classes, recognizing the exaltation of the socially, ethnically, or morally excluded fits Jesus' emphasis elsewhere (e.g., 22:1-14; 23:12; Lk 14:11; cf. 1 Cor 1:26-31).
In Matthew's context, the parable itself could point to many disciples who have forsaken "all," but also to the fact that even those who had the least to forsake will receive the same reward. More likely, in view of the prominence of the Markan conclusion "the first shall be last. . . ," the emphasis is specifically on disciples who humble themselves, sacrifice much, but are amply rewarded, in contrast to those who only pretend to follow without sacrifice (19:21-30; 23:2-12). Jesus speaks of rank in the day of judgment (5:19).61
The story's details fit first-century Galilee. The vineyard (20:1) may represent Israel as in 21:33 (cf. 9:37; 21:28; Is 3:13-15; 5:1-7); but vineyards were common and hence provided a natural setting for parables without a consistent meaning. The parable's point does not in any case hinge on this identification. Rich landowners (Jas 5:1-5), vineyards (Song 8:11; m. Kil. 4:1-8:1), and hirelings (Jn 10:12) were all important features of Galilean life in this period. Other Palestinian texts support the plausibility of various details of the text (e.g., the way idle workers are hired), reflecting an authentic Palestinian source (cf. Manns 1980a). Other Jewish teachers also laid heavy emphasis on fieldowners' showing concern for the poor (cf. m. Pe'a, passim), and, more to the point, could portray God as the master of one's labor, who would pay the reward of one's work (m. 'Abot 2:14) 62
Many Galileans seem to have owned small homes and worked their own fields or crafts (Goodman 1983: 34, from Tannaitic evidence), but many others were peasants working the estates of a handful of well-to-do absentee landlords (see Horsley and Hanson 1985: 59; Horsley 1995: 207-9).63 Sometimes workers hired themselves out as servants to work for others for a specified period of time up to six years (Klausner 1979b: 180), but temporary help was cheaper for the employer (MacMullen 1974: 42). The harvest, in late spring, required an influx of extra workers, some to guard both crops in the fields and gathered sheaves against thieves and animals, most to harvest (Lewis 1983: 122), plus a few, lesser-paid donkey drivers, sometimes boys (Lewis 1983: 123). For such workers landowners typically drew on the ranks of the landless — sometimes homeless — poor for such brief and urgent tasks (Goodman 1983: 38-39).
One should not press allegorical significance into all a parable's details; some points may simply provide realism to the story (cf. 20:3 with Prov 26:10). A day officially began at sunset, but Jewish people reckoned hours from sunrise ca. 6 a.m. (Jeremias 1972: 136n.21); the third hour was thus between 8 and 9 a.m. and the eleventh hour (v. 6) between 4 and 5. Twelve-hour workdays were customary only during harvest time (for more details on Mediterranean harvests, see, e.g., Cary and Haarhoff 1946: 108-9).64 The urgency of the harvest (cf. Babrius 88:11-19; comment on 9:37-38) accounts for the landowner's frequent return to the marketplace to recruit more laborers.
He finds others sitting idle in the marketplace because they have not been hired.65 Jeremias thinks that, "Because no one has hired us" is a cover for laziness, which 25:24-25 and some later practices in this region might confirm (1972: 37; cf. Acts 17:5; Plut. Precepts of Statecraft 2, Mor. 798C; b. Ber. 28b, bar.; cf. Pompeiian beggars in MacMullen 1974: 87). But while they intend their response to avoid shame, it could just as easily be because they have spent the morning gathering in the smaller harvest in their own smaller field. Throughout the Empire, many small landholders found part-time employment only during harvest or by serving on larger estates (Finley 1973: 107). During harvest local shepherds and goatherds might also join in the work (Longus 2.1), though many urban elites did not think highly of them (see comment on 18:12). Unemployed day laborers were common,66 but most of those were probably hired already in the morning.
The parable contrasts God's mercy with the stinginess of those who oppose his mercy. As in verse 8, employers normally paid wages in the evening (Lev 19:13; Deut 24:14-15; Jeremias 1972: 136; Goodman 1983: 39; cf. m. B. Mes. 9:11). This employer provided all the workers the same wages, despite the different lengths of time they had worked.67 Those who had worked all day lost nothing; justice was served, but mercy was added. Jewish hearers would consider it pious to give wages even to those not expecting it (Test. Job 12:3-4; p. B. Mes. 6:1, §2).68
Nevertheless, those who had labored all day complained, murmuring (20:11; cf. Ex 16:2; Lk 15:2; Jn 6:41; 1 Cor 10:10);69 Jesus' hearers may have been shocked that workers would openly react so negatively to a benevolent landowner from whom they might require future favors.70 But the landowner sets them in their place, politely shaming them by reminding them that they are objecting not to injustice but to generosity. He is "good" (cf. 19:17); they have an "evil eye," that is, are stingy (6:23; Deut 15:9; Prov. 23:6; 28:22; Sir 14:8-10; 34:13; Tob 4:7, 16; m. 'Abot 2:9, ll).71 In verse 13 he singles out one, perhaps the primary murmurer (Jeremias 1972: 137), but whereas they neglected to greet him with the requisite title (20:12; cf. Lk 15:29), he offers a polite title, "friend" (20:13) — which Matthew always uses to shame one who has presumed on another's grace (22:13; 26:50; also Fenton 1977: 321).72
In later rabbinic parables, the landowner provides one who labored two hours pay equal to that of those who labored all day, because he accomplished more in his two hours than they all day; or he pays a hard worker, symbolizing Israel, much extra.73 By contrast, the image in Jesus' parable is one of unmerited grace; the owner realizes that an hour's fraction of a day's wage would not sustain a family (Jeremias 1972: 37; France 1985: 289). But a parable of grace also challenges those who operate only on a principle of merit, despising the showing of mercy to others because they felt it unfairly raised others to their own standing (Jeremias 1972: 38, comparing Lk 15:25-32).74
Suffering for the Kingdom (20:17-19)
Cf. Mk 10:32-34; Lk 18:31-34. The repeated passion predictions in Matthew, as in Mark, keep the reader focused on the direction of the narrative and color the whole of the narrative. Disciples may sacrifice much and be rewarded (19:21— 20:16), but the ultimate sacrifice is martyrdom, the price paid by Jesus and many who would follow him all the way (20:17-19). The placement of this prediction exposes the disciples' selfish conception of the kingdom in 20:20-22, 24: for them, the kingdom is about reigning, but Jesus recognizes that reigning first requires suffering (20:22-28). Significantly, this passion prediction adds the notion of mocking by Gentiles, a horrifying image in a culture emphasizing shame (e.g., Epict. Disc. 1.4.10), and diametrically opposed to the picture of a militant Messiah triumphing over the nations.
On passion predictions, see comment on 16:21; 17:22-23; the disciples had managed to ignore Jesus' warnings that did not make sense on their own cultural and theological presuppositions; they presumably felt that other sayings confirmed their predispositions (19:28; Plummer 1910: 276).
The Reign of a Suffering Servant (20:20-28)
Cf. Mk 10:35-45; Lk 22:24-27. Hearing Jesus' promise of a special place for the Twelve (19:28), they wanted to establish a special place among the Twelve. To accomplish their petition, they enlisted their mother; Jewish tradition accorded aged women a special place of respect younger women did not hold (cf. Judg 5:7; 2 Sam 14:2; 20:16-22; Titus 2:4). Further, women could get away with asking requests men dare not ask, both in Jewish (Lk 18:2-5; 2 Sam 14:1-21; 20:16-22; 1 Kings 1:11-16; 2:17; Bailey 1980: 134) and broader Greco-Roman culture (Dixon 1988: 179; cf. Dion. Hal. 8.44.1-8.54.1; Tac. Ann. 16.10).75 This narrative contrasts starkly with the worship and intercession of a Canaanite mother for her child in 15:25, perhaps inviting "reflection on the differences between the two supplicants" and the nature of appropriate petitions (Davies and Allison 1997: 87). This passage further indicates that the disciples had misunderstood both the preceding passion predictions and Jesus' teaching concerning the kingdom's nature.76
To the disciples, recognizing that Jesus was the Messiah and would soon reign was an expression of faith (16:17); unfortunately, they failed to grasp the seriousness of the sacrifice that was the prerequisite for his kingdom (16:21-27). Outsiders recognized Jesus' Davidic rule in truth (15:22; 20:30-31), but James and John at this point may function more like the crowds who recognize Jesus' Davidic role when it is popular (21:9) but do not become disciples submitted to Jesus' rule, preferring a revolutionary (27:17-25). Matthew provides a number of lessons for his community through the negative model of discipleship this passage presents.
First, the Lord evaluates the motivation for disciples' prayers (20:20-21). The sequence of the narrative explicitly contrasts this request for costless glory with a desperate prayer of true need in 20:29-34. Both groups recognized Jesus as the coming king, but the first group sought Jesus for personal advancement, the latter for genuine need.
Second, only those who suffer with Jesus will reign with him (20:22-23). This perspective became the view of the early Christians on the whole (cf. Rom 8:17; 2 Thess 1:5; 2 Tim 2:12) and surely goes back to Jesus himself.77 A throne's "right" hand was the place of greatest honor (cf. 25:31),78 but it is possible that Jesus points cryptically to a different throne than the disciples envision: if Jesus was to be enthroned first on a cross, the place reserved for those on either side of that throne was for two robbers (27:38). The "cup" the disciples must share is Jesus' death (26:27-28, 39), borrowed from one image for God's wrath in the prophets,79 an image that continued to be intelligible to early second-century Christians (Mart. Pol. 14; perhaps Mart. Is. 5:13; later, Chrysostom On the Incomprehensible Nature of God 8.35; ACCS, 150-51). Jesus explicitly connects the cup at the last supper with his impending death (26:27-28; also Lampe 1951: 39).80 As Cole notes, "this price they will in any case pay, for this is not the price of Christian greatness but the price of following Christ at all" (Cole 1961: 170).
Third, the greatest role in the kingdom is the role of the self-sacrificial servant (20:24-28). James and John were not the only ones with the problem; the other disciples were angry with them because they, too, wanted a high position; competition for status among peers was important in their culture (20:24; see Derrett 1973: 54; Malina 1993: 133).81 But the world's models for status differ from those in God's kingdom; because honor ultimately belongs to God alone, disciples should seek to humble themselves and serve, allowing God to exalt them if and when he wills. Rank in the day of judgment (5:19) will confound many human expectations (18:4; 23:11). The "first" (cf. 20:16) must be servant of all. The call to enslavement was offensive: it was a commonplace that people, especially those born free, at best endured servitude with difficulty (Dio Cassius R.H. 1.5.12; 8.36.3; Philo Praem. 137; Prob. 36).
The least would be the greatest (20:26-28) as Jesus had just told them (19:30; 20:16). Besides forcefully drawing attention to his teaching by means of antithetical aphorisms in 20:26-27 (Tannehill 1975: 102-7), Jesus argues his point by means of both negative and positive examples. Negatively, one should not be like the pagans (20:25; cf. 5:47; 6:7; 18:17). Some beneficent rulers stressed service (cf. Solon in Diog. Laert. Lives 1.60), many Greeks affirmed that power could be either used nobly or abused (Dion. Hal. 5.77.6), and many Diaspora Jews respected pagan rulers benevolent toward Judaism. Nevertheless, Palestinian Jews, oppressed by a colonial situation in both Jesus' day and Matthew's, would naturally recognize that most rulers exploited power.82 (Although often deprived of their own rulers, Jewish people also stressed rank — cf. 23:6-7; 1QS 5.23-24; 6.2.) But the tyrants and empires of history confirm the point; absolute power always corrupts precisely because the desire for power over others, to whatever extent one may achieve it, shows that people remain slaves to self-centeredness. Yet even though Christian history has often testified more to Jesus' observation about human depravity than to obedience to his teaching, many have continued to echo his teaching (Chrys. Matthew Homily 58; A CCS, 127).
Positively, Jesus himself was a suffering servant who laid down his life for his people (20:28; cf. Jn 13:13-15 , 31-35).83 This statement represents a typical qal wahomer, or "how much more" argument: if their master was a servant, how much more should they humble themselves (Phil 2:1-11). Matthew clearly sees in this statement an allusion to the suffering servant of Isaiah (Mt 12:18), particularly in offering his "soul" or "life" (Is 53:12) as a ransom or redemption price (cf. 53:10-11) on behalf of "the many" (Is 53:11-12; cf. Mt 26:28; Rom 5:15). Despite the different paths they have taken into Greek,84 the numerous correspondences between the first extant appearance of this saying in Mark (Mk 10:45) and the language of Isaiah indicates that Isaiah's servant was in view from the start (pace Hooker 1959: 74-79; idem 1983: 93; Anderson 1976: 257). Certainly by Matthew's day early Christians would recognize the allusion to Isaiah 53 (Lk 22:37; Acts 8:32-35; Jn 12:38; Justin 1 Apol. 50).85
The language here is that of substitutionary atonement, which (in view of Isaiah and Maccabean texts) need not have been foreign to Jesus himself.86 Although the sense was Jewish and much of the construction Semitic, the thought would make sense to Mark's Diaspora readers as well: Greeks also regarded dying for others as heroism, and especially shared with them the notion of expiatory sacrifice (Hengel 1981a: 9, 19).87 As in Philippians 2:1-11, however, the evangelists treat their audiences to this summary of Jesus' mission not to rehearse soteriology but to provide an active model for Christian living.
Persistent Prayer (20:29-34)
Cf. Mk 10:46-52; Lk 18:35-43. Despite the notorious dangers of roads like the one from Jericho to Jerusalem (20:29;88 cf. Lk 10:30; Jeremias 1972: 203), many beggars would have sought alms from Passover pilgrims there at this season (Lane 1974a: 3 87).89 Jericho was a relatively wealthy community with a priestly establishment (see Jos. War 4.459-75; Schwartz 1988; Finegan 1969: 81-88; Coughenour 1982: 995-96), boasting also Herod's winter palaces (Gleason 1987; Netzer 1989). Although Matthew, abbreviating Mark's account, omits the label "faith" here (Mk 10:52), he nevertheless illustrates the same principle (Mt 9:29). While this text does not promote selfish prayers like the one illustrated in 20:20-21, it does provide Matthew's audience principles for one with a desperate, life-affecting need (20:32-33).
First, these suppliants recognized the identity and authority of the one whose help they entreated (20:30). They recognized that Jesus was son of David — rightful ruler in God's coming kingdom (1:1; 15:22; 21:9);90 they also acknowledged their need of mercy (5:7; cf. 6:2-4 — "alms" originally literally meant "acts of mercy"), humbly depending on his favor rather than their own merit.
Second, they refused to let others' priorities deter them (20:31). The crowd already "following" Jesus (20:29, 31; cf. 8:1; 19:2) did not want the teacher to be interrupted by beggars; many probably wanted him to get on with the business of setting up the kingdom they suspected he would establish (21:9). They did not understand that the agendas of the kingdom involved serving precisely the weakest (20:28; cf. 19:13). But the beggars exercised sufficient faith in the Lord's authority and concern that no one else's impatient dismissal of their need would keep them from persisting in their dependence on the teacher (cf. 8:7; 15:24-26).
Third, Jesus' compassion was the ultimate motivation for his acting (20:34). God knows the pain in his people's lives, and Jesus acted from compassion (cf. 6:8; 9:36; 14:14; 15:32). Biographers might praise the kindness of leaders who admitted to their presence even the lowliest of persons (Corn. Nep. 1 [Miltiades], 8.4), which fits the situation here (20:31-32). The immediacy of the healing is frequently mentioned in ancient healing reports, though Matthew often omits Mark's characteristic "immediately" (Theissen 1983: 66).
Finally, recipients of Jesus' gifts should follow him (20:34). Although Mark's "go" (Mk 10:52) makes their following even more striking, Matthew is equally clear that the formerly blind men, now able to follow Jesus, do just that. When Matthew speaks of "following" he refers especially to following as a disciple (8:19, 22; 19:21), which in this context means following to the cross (20:17-28).
Jerusalem's King Enters Her Gates (21:1-11)
Cf. Mk 11:1-10; Lk 19:28-40; Jn 12:12-19. This narrative both portrays Jesus as a king and reinterprets the significance of his kingship. Because his kingship was so different from worldly models of authority (20:25), Jesus subverts the worldly understanding of kingship to suggest a reign of a different order.
At the same time, although Jesus is not yet explicit about his kingship, with the triumphal entry Jesus begins to relinquish the messianic secret (cf. Burkill 1960).
Some scholars doubt much of the historical substance of this narrative; Catchpole 1984, for instance, notes that Mark 11:1-11 fits the formal pattern of a legend, in this case, of a king entering his city. But historical narrative could be told using the same formal pattern (Witherington 1990: 104). Witherington 1990: 105 argues in favor of the narrative that others commandeered animals; the original acclamation (one coming in the Lord's name) hardly reflects later christological confessions; and Psalm 118:26 was genuinely used during Passover, though later Christians probably would not know this (and hence would not fabricate it; see more fully below; on authenticity, see also Losie 1992). If Jesus entered the city in a memorable way at all (and there was no other reason to preserve the story), he had to acquire the animal by some means;91 and if he rode an ass, he himself probably intended the allusion to Zechariah (Sanders 1993: 254). And why not, if Jesus both read the Hebrew Bible and knew himself of Davidic descent?
The narrative would convey a number of points to the faithful in the preaching of the church and presumably Matthew's exhortation to his community.
First, disciples' possessions belong to their King (21:1-3). Leaving Jericho (20:29) in the east, one might take the 17-mile Roman road climbing about 3,000 feet to Jerusalem (Carson 1984b: 437; Yamauchi 1972: 104-5). Pilgrims from the east would finally arrive at Bethphage, legally a suburb of Jerusalem but across the Kidron Valley, on the ridge of the Mount of Olives nearest Jerusalem; at this point Jerusalem came into sight (France 1985: 296) 92
Matthew devotes less space than Mark to Jesus "impressing" or commandeering an animal, but in Matthew as well Jesus exercises a prerogative of authority, in this context suggesting royalty. Although household servants could think of the "lord" as the donkey's absent earthly owner (cf. Lane 1974a: 396; Ross 1984), perhaps implying that the owner already knew Jesus or that the disciples would mislead them, the borrowing more likely testifies to Jesus' status. Whether or not the owner is a disciple (cf. Lane 1974a: 392n.3), he has heard of Jesus, and Jesus foreknows his response. The response testifies first of all to the man's respect for Jesus: rulers (as Jesus is here) and officials could impress animals (Sail. Jug. 75.4; Burridge 1994: 54); Jewish teachers (as the man presumably regards Jesus) could also borrow animals among those who respected them (Derrett 1971). More importantly, the passage testifies to Jesus' foreknowledge.93 Matthew is not so much making a statement about possessions here as one about Christ: as the rightful king, he has the right to anything in creation, certainly among his people (cf. Gundry 1982: 408; Blomberg 1992a: 311-12).94
That Matthew includes two animals (e.g., Bratcher 1992) has occasioned considerable discussion. Some scholars (e.g., Sandmel 1978a: 59; Meier 1980: 232) think that Matthew has misunderstood the parallelism in Zechariah 9:9 (which he has also conflated with the similar Is 62:11); if so, Matthew also exploited the Septuagint's more ambiguous translation to convert the Hebrew's "male donkey" in one line into a mother donkey. More likely, however, Matthew attempts to show with what literal detail Jesus fulfilled the prophecy. In view of Matthew's knowledge of Hebrew elsewhere (his citation might possibly even presuppose more skilled readers grasping a connection between Jesus' name and the term "salvation" in a part of Zech 9:9 not cited — cf. Mt 1:21; Longenecker 1981: 102), it is quite unlikely that Matthew would be unfamiliar with Hebrew parallelism. Even here, where his point is closer to the Septua-gint, he translates from the Hebrew more literally than the Septuagint does (Soares Prabhu 1976: 158-59). By reading the text in the manner most useful for his purpose, Matthew was not offering an unusual hermeneutic; his contemporaries regularly read more into a text than it required where it suited their purposes to do so.95
Then again, Matthew's mother donkey may fulfill an entirely different function here than the fulfillment of prophecy anyway. She cannot fulfill the prophecy precisely, given the gender in the Hebrew, which his translation shows that Matthew knows. Although Matthew himself does not stress that the colt is unbroken, Matthew's tradition may mention the mother to emphasize that the colt was, indeed, unbroken; such a colt might require the mother's presence to keep it calm amid shouting crowds (Gundry 1975: 199).96 Citing the sacredness of unused animals in some traditions, some think that the borrowing of an unused animal must be legend here; "but it is just as likely that Jesus deliberately chose an unused donkey for the sacred occasion" (Gundry 1975: 197). As in later Palestine, one would drape the garments (on which Jesus sat) across both the mother and the colt, although Jesus would ride only one (Gundry 1982: 410; the "them" on which he sat could mean the garments).
It is thus possible that Matthew finds two animals in the text because he had both animals in one of his traditions.97 At the same time, in view of his doubling of other figures in his narratives, this may simply be Matthew's way of underlining the importance of the event (8:28; 9:27; 20:30). (That Mark and John would independently simplify the narrative by omitting the second animal is not probable, though they could have drawn on a common tradition that had done so.)
Second, Jesus chose to define the kind of King he is (21:4-6). The triumphal entry is undoubtedly historical. Perhaps the Romans waited so long to execute Jesus because they did not know of the entry, perhaps because the acclamations at his entry would have been ambiguous to most Jerusalemites greeting pilgrims and his entrance was accomplished quickly (for the suggestion of a limited-scale event, cf. Catchpole 1984; Sanders 1985: 306). The disciples, however, would have remembered the event in great detail, and what Jesus intended to convey to them through the symbolic act is more critical than the immediate understanding of other bystanders; Jesus would be executed as a messianic pretender soon enough (cf. Sanders 1985: 308; pace Borg 1987: 186n.9).
It is unlikely that the later church would have thought to create a scene based on the authentic character of the Passover season; Mark's account, adapted by Matthew, thus undoubtedly preserves accurate tradition. "Hosanna!" and "Blessed is he who comes in the Lord's name" both reflect Psalm 118, part of the Hallel psalms sung during this season.98 Although people officially began singing the Hallel apparently the night before the first day of Passover (t. Sukk. 3:2; Pesiq. Rab Kah. Sup. 2:8), many parents would undoubtedly rehearse it with their children before then (second-century rabbis applied to the Hallel the same rules applied to other liturgy — t. Meg. 2:2), and adults would know the Hallel psalms and their association with Passover.
Hopes for redemption ran high in the crowded fervor of Jerusalem near Passover, requiring the Roman governor to increase security during this time. Later Jewish thinkers clearly saw the future redemption prefigured in Passover, the Hallel (Jeremias 1966a: 256-57 and n. 3), and the cry "Hosanna" ("O save!" which had become an acclamation of praise — Moore 1971: 2:48; Lane 1974a: 398). Thus the arrival of a prophet from Galilee already associated with messianic acts (Mt 14:19-20) could lead crowds to expect the imminent restoration of the Davidic kingdom (Mk 11:10). But viewing Jesus as a mighty prophet proclaiming the kingdom (also Mt 21:11; cf. 21:46) was not the same as explicitly calling him the Son of David (21:9; cf. 16:14). (Unlike the crowds, the reader knows that Jesus was not merely "from Nazareth in Galilee" — 21:11 — but from Bethlehem — 2:1.)
The Sadducean aristocrats' position of power depended on their keeping peace between their people and the Romans (cf. Smallwood 1962; Horsley 1986b; Sanders 1985: 315). That they did not intervene during Jesus' triumphal entry suggests a number of possible factors on the historical level: very likely, the entry happened relatively quickly and the Sadducees, most of whom were busy with duties on the Temple Mount, were unaware of these events while they were transpiring; very likely, many of those greeting the royal party did not recognize the entry as messianic; and possibly the messianic commotion did not spread beyond the portion of the crowd already excited by Jesus' reputation (although Matthew emphasizes the popular acclaim more highly than Mark did — 21:10-11). It is not likely that everyone at the event perceived it in messianic terms; at the same time, the event itself is almost certainly historical, and we must ask what Jesus intended the event to convey. In that vein, it is important to note that the later church or his Jewish contemporaries might have chosen for Jesus a more militant steed, but Jesus chose a beast of burden that would convey the image of Zechariah 9:9 (cf. Judg 10:4; 12:14; 1 Kings 1:44; cf. Sanders 1993: 254; Witherington 1990: 106).99
That knowledge of the Zechariah allusion seems lost on Mark and perhaps his tradition (knowledge of Zech 9:9 could have enabled him to avoid a difficult periphrastic expression — Gundry 1975: 197-98) suggests the antiquity of the tradition. But Matthew and John, the Gospels suggesting the most Palestinian flavor and most apt to recognize the source of the allusion, explicitly cite this text. Although later teachers and probably Jesus' contemporaries regarded this prophecy as messianic (b. Sanh. 98a; 99a; Gen. Rab. 75:6; Edgar 1958: 48-49; Lachs 1987: 344), it was not such a popular text that his followers would have grasped the full significance of his actions immediately. Jesus was announcing that he was indeed a king, but not a warrior-king (Moule 1965: 87; Gundry 1982: 409; Sanders 1993: 242; cf. Borg 1987: 174). Jesus was the meek one (11:29; 12:18-21; cf. 5:5), who came to serve rather than be served (20:28).100
Third, even many of those who did not understand the nature of Jesus' kingship paid him royal homage (21:7-11). Matthew specifically upgrades the Christology of Mark's crowd; Jesus' coming not only leads to cries that the Davidic kingdom must be imminent, but to hailing Jesus himself as "Son of David," the promised king (cf. Pope 1988). Essentially they are crying, "God save the king!" (21:9; also Gundry 1982: 411). Jewish tradition sometimes applied Psalm 118's acclamation to the coming king (Hurtado 1983: 185). Yet even in Matthew, Jerusalem itself does not know Jesus (21:10; cf. 8:27; 23:37-39); the crowds of Passover pilgrims (presumably from Galilee) must announce him (21:11).101 Although the crowds had to honor Jesus by casting something before him (2 Kings 9:12-13) and branches were appropriate to the festal setting (Ps 118:27; cf. Rev 7:9; 2 Macc 10:7), John's specific mention of palm branches (Jn 12:13) is significant, for they normally were more in use at the feast of tabernacles (e.g., Gen. Rab. 41:1).102
Whereas Jesus by riding the donkey implies his dismissal of revolutionary aspirations, the crowd's use of palm branches, an allusion to the Maccabean triumphs, implies that they still see him in more revolutionary messianic terms.103 The garments (21:8) also may function as royal acclamation (2 Kings 9:13).104 By placing Jesus' prophecy that he would be hailed as the "coming one" after this event (23:39; contrast Lk 13:35; 19:38), Matthew implies that Jerusalem will someday recognize Jesus' true identity and embrace him before the end (cf. Rom 11:26; perhaps Rev 11:13).
Matthew's audience, probably still recalling the brutal events of the Jewish-Roman war, would be familiar enough with the dangers of challenging the political establishment to find another lesson in the story of the triumphal entry. From the perspective of the Gospel writers the entry was virtually an openly messianic claim, hence a challenge to the ruling class to relinquish its power. Such claims invariably led to the arrest and execution of their authors (Overman 1996: 291). In the face of the Roman Empire and its local aristocratic allies, Jesus' meek kingship necessarily involved the cross.
When word of a notable visitor spreads quickly in the excited and gossipful crowded atmosphere of the festival (21:10), fanned by possibly growing reports of the entry, the Galilean pilgrims announce to the native Jerusalemites that they are hailing Jesus of Nazareth, a prophet from Galilee (21:11). The division between those who acclaim Jesus and those who seem stunned by the acclaim may represent the traditional division between urban and rural people in the Empire (Malina and Rohrbaugh 1992: 128-29); and, indeed, plenty of evidence substantiates that such divisions existed.105 But the primary division is probably a regional one; most of Jesus' ministry has taken place in Galilee, which to Jerusalemites seemed far from the cultural corridors of power (see comment on 4:12-16). Jerusalem had been "troubled" at Jesus' birth (2:3), a strong term (reused in 14:26), but Matthew employs even stronger language here (21:10): Jerusalem was "quaked" (27:51; 8:24; 24:7; 28:2).
Jesus now accepts such public homage, which is appropriate (21:16). Nevertheless, the crowds understand the meaning of his messianic identity no more than the disciples had (16:20-22); Son of David remains a true but inadequate Christology (22:41-45).
Judgment on the Temple Establishment (21:12-17)
Cf. Mk 11:15-17; Lk 19:45-46; Jn 2:13-17. Given the large amount of theological controversy in first-century Palestinian Judaism, it was most likely those actions of Jesus that could be interpreted politically that led to his execution (Young 1989: 296; Sanders 1990: 94). Protest actions may be common today in the west, but they often excite little attention because they provoke little danger. When ancient philosophers like the Cynics criticized the authorities, however, they invited both persecution and suspicion of itinerant teachers in general (Liefeld 1967: 162). By challenging nationalism and rulers' policies, the biblical prophets had invited retribution no less frequently (23:30-31).
Against some scholars who have questioned whether Jesus could have predicted his impending death (see comment on 16:21), it seems nearly impossible that he would not have done so: in the events of this narrative, Jesus virtually provoked it.106 Merely prophesying the temple's destruction invited scourging and the threat of death (Jer 26:11; Jos. War 6.300-309; Sanders 1985: 302; see Winkle 1986), and execution was especially the solution if a leader already had a significant gathering of followers (Sanders 1985: 303). The guardians of law and order in the temple, whose positions depended on keeping peace between the Romans and the people, were permitted to punish violations of the sanctity of the temple — and only this offense — with death (Jos. War 6.124-26; Ant. 15.417; Carmon 1973: 76, 167-68; cf. O'Rourke 1971: 174; Segal 1989b; pace Rabello 1980: 737-38). If Jesus did not violate the inner sanctuary, nevertheless he provoked the antagonism of those who could hand him over to the Romans as a messianic (royal) pretender, an offense the Romans viewed as treason.107
Citing archaeological evidence for shops alongside an adjoining street outside the temple wall, Sanders doubts that buying and selling occurred within the temple precincts (1992: 87). Given strong evidence for the thriving tourist trade in Jerusalem, however (Ep. Arist. 114; Avigad 1983b), these shops outside the temple wall were probably directed toward tourists year round (cf. m. Ber. 9:5; Sanders 1985: 365n.6); for that matter, the ancient Mediterranean urban economy regularly included many small specialized shops (see Lewis 1983: 136). Yet these shops outside the temple were undoubtedly different from the trade Jesus addresses in the Gospel tradition. Authorized money changers and dealers in sacrificial animals would need to be nearer the activity in the temple; further, priests had to examine the animals (also Philo Spec. Leg. 1.166).108 Likewise, if Sanders thinks it absurd that cattle were marched from the outer court into the temple for sacrifice (Sanders 1992: 87-88), how much harder would it have been to have marched them in from outside the temple during a crowded festival; the law certainly required offerings of cattle or oxen for some circumstances (cf., e.g., Lev 1:3-9; 4:2-21; 8:2; 22:21; m. Sheqal. 4.7).109
Economic exploitation in the temple? Although pilgrims needed money changers in Jerusalem year round (cf. Wilkinson 1978: 118), later reports indicate that the authorities allowed money changers in the temple for only one week, beginning to change money on Adar 25, several days before the temple tax was due (on Nisan 1 — m. Sheqal. 1.3; cf. Abrahams 1917: 86; Jeremias 1969: 18). Despite later complaints about the chief priestly families,110 criticisms do not concern their economic exploitation of pilgrims: people seem to have viewed money changers in general as trustworthy and performing a public service (Goodman 1983: 57-58). Even in Galilee the varieties of local currency required money changers who could convert coinage for use in the temple (and local economy); this was necessary, not an option.111 More importantly, ordinary money changers did not trade in the temple (Abrahams 1917: 86), and the temple money changers made little if any profit (m. Sheqal. 1.6-7), though Jerusalem undoubtedly profited from the resultant trade.112 Nor is it probable that the priests themselves owned the animals being sold (Sanders 1992: 88); we lack reliable evidence that the priestly aristocracy made a direct profit (pace Reicke 1974: 168).
Because he opposes the buyers as well as the sellers (France 1985: 301), Jesus probably was not criticizing economic exploitation or high prices (Hagner 1995: 600; pace Gundry 1982: 413). But other issues may be at stake. If rabbinic reports are accurate, this practice, originally restricted to the Mount of Olives, had been moved to the temple shortly before Jesus' arrival, undoubtedly drawing considerable opposition (Lane 1974a: 403; Witherington 1990: 110, following Eppstein 1964). The practice would have helped the buyers, reducing the risk of an animal's becoming blemished in transit between the Mount of Olives and the temple, an expensive risk for most people; thus the real problem was paying money in the temple (Chilton 1994:165). Likewise, treating the outer court of the temple like a hellenistic agora may have seemed reasonable to aristocrats with hellenistic training, but it would have infuriated those committed to contrary traditions. Perhaps this provided one factor in Jesus' challenge to the temple establishment.
A revolutionary challenge. Of all Jesus' acts, his attack on the temple came closest to appearing as a revolutionary challenge to the political order, but this action was a prophetic declaration rather than the challenge of a Zealot leader seeking a following (Bammel 1984a: 124-26). Revolutionary messianic figures typically drew followings in the wilderness, attempting to build support before striking; Jesus, by contrast, acted under the nose of the Roman authorities and calculated his martyrdom. His act itself was undoubtedly more symbolic than efficacious. Jesus acted against only a small area in the crowded outer court, which was 300 meters by 450 meters (Witherington 1990: 109-10). Further, he neither "recleansed" the temple daily, although the sellers had undoubtedly set up their tables again, nor continued his disruption long enough to permit the intervention of the temple's Levite police or, had a riot begun, the Romans (cf. Borg 1984: 171-73; Sanders 1985: 270).
But while we may question the magnitude of the action, we can doubt neither that it occurred nor that it had profound effects. Many of Jesus' contemporaries criticized the temple and its priesthood, and some expected eschatological judgment there (see Freyne 1988: 187-89; comments on Mt 24:1-3). Thus if Sanders doubts the traditional location of Jesus' action in the temple, he is not similarly dubious of the action itself, which he regards as an "almost indisputable" historical fact (1985: 11). "The action against the buyers and sellers and the frequent accusation that Jesus threatened to destroy the temple are mutually supportive" (1985: 364n.4). Jesus' action also fits his idea of a kingdom established by God's direct intervention (as found in Qumran documents); like some of his contemporaries, Jesus undoubtedly expected a kingdom "in which a temple, whether new or cleansed, would be useful" (1985: 232-33; cf. Brown 1994: 458).113
I would add that Jesus probably differed from most of these contemporaries in expecting a future temple that would at least include a spiritual temple (as in other Qumran texts) founded on himself (see evidence for this on 21:42; cf. Aune 1983: 175).114 Later Christians would not have invented Jesus' act against the temple; they maintained their connections with the temple (Acts 2:46; 21:23-26) and wished to avoid the suspicion that they were subversive (which enemies of temples were considered anywhere in the Empire). Attestation by both Markan and Johannine streams of tradition further supports the tradition's antiquity (Witherington 1990: 109-10).
A protest against unholiness? In one interpretation of the temple cleansing, Jesus protested unholiness in the temple and was a scrupulous exponent of holiness (Stauffer 1960: 67; for his known opposition to sin, cf. also P. Oxy. 840.34ff.). Certainly later Jewish tradition prohibits entering the temple with staff, sandals, dust on one's feet, or profane clothing, or walking through it for secular purposes (m. Ber. 9:5), so Jesus may have been enforcing a custom already practiced most of the year (Nineham 1977: 304). Borg sets this symbolic sign in the context of his views of Jesus' conflict with his contemporaries over the meaning of holiness (Borg 1983: 171-72; idem 1987: 174-76; cf. 1983: 163-99). Scripture had indeed announced that the temple would be purified (Mai 3:1-4; though cf. the hesitation of Hooker 1983: 79, 83); thus some have viewed Jesus' act as a messianic one but not intended politically (cf. Roth 1960a); messianic figures could claim authority by challenging holy sites (Jerusalem in Jos. War 2.261-63; the Samaritan temple site in Ant. 18.85-87). This interpretation is not incompatible with the view that Jesus was offering a prophetic sign of the temple's destruction; prophecies of its destruction typically rested on the view that it had already been defiled (cf. 23:38; 24:15). But as Sanders points out, Jesus might have symbolized a mere purifying of the temple by pouring out water; overturning tables signified something more ominous (1985: 70).115
Jesus could be arguing that the temple is morally and spiritually impure, as the Qumran sect also believed. Because he does not directly charge the Saddu-cean priestly aristocracy with corruption (as in lQpHab 9.4-5; 11.6-7; CD 5.6-7; cf. Ps. Sol. 8:11-13; Test. Levi 14:1, if not an interpolation) or false doctrine (cf. later rabbis), his criticisms seem to differ from those of his contemporaries (cf. Sanders 1985: 65-66).116 But although his action may have offended more than the Sadducees (Sanders 1985: 69), they were the ones he shamed by acting against their control of the temple without their retribution. Jesus clearly rejects the moral authority of those running the temple system (21:24-25, 38-45; Mk 11:29-30; 12:7-12), and his actions, backed by his own growing popularity, could only strike them as a deliberate affront to their own position. His parable about usurping tenants murdering the vineyard's rightful heir virtually constituted a challenge to them to act against him (21:33-45).
A protest against ethnic segregation? That the selling occurred in the outer court, beyond which Gentiles could not travel, may have been significant (cf. Jos. Ant. 12.145; 15.417). Although the front court of the temple was normally to be kept clear as a sacred area (cf. m. Ber. 9.5), the many temporary shops inside it selling animals would have violated this usage even if they consumed but a small part of the temple area. Although scholars dispute whether Jesus actually cited these texts in the temple (Harvey 1982: 132; Sanders 1985: 66),117 Mark (hence Matthew) claims that he cited two texts, Isaiah 56:7 and Jeremiah 7:11. Because it is unlikely that Jesus would have acted against the temple without citing scriptural precedent, and disciples strove to remember their teachers' sayings, Mark's citation of these texts (albeit in LXX form) may reflect authentic Jesus tradition, hence an accurate interpretation of Jesus' attack on the temple. (Cf. similarly Borg 1983: 173; prophetic acts are normally interpreted, hence the saying is likely authentic.)118
In Isaiah 56 God promises to accept foreigners and eunuchs (previously banned — Deut 23:1) as members of his people, declaring that his temple will welcome all peoples; indeed, its purpose had been universalistic from the start (1 Kings 8:41-43; Jos. Apion 2.193). But by Jesus' day (in contrast to the ancient Israelite temple) a partition with warning signs segregated Gentiles from the Israelite section of the outer court (Jos. War 5.194; 6.124-26; Ant. 15.417), probably for purity reasons (Jos. Apion 2.102-5; women were similarly considered less pure than men; cf. also llQTemple 3-48). Although some have inferred too much,119 concern for the sanctity of this outer court, hence for the worship of the Gentiles, may have been part of Jesus' objection to the current temple order (pace Sanders 1985: 67-68; cf., e.g., MacGregor 1936: 19; Glasson 1963b: 149-50; in Mark, Matera 1982: 147). Whether Jesus protested the architecture of the temple per se (Borg 1984: 175) or primarily the commercial insensitivity to the sacredness of the only part of the temple now available to them may be debated.
Nevertheless, that Matthew, despite his emphasis on the Gentile mission, deletes the words "for all nations" from Mark's quotation may suggest that Matthew wishes to lay the emphasis elsewhere — perhaps especially on the next quotation.120
A prophetic sign. Although Matthew omits "for all nations" from his quotation of Isaiah 56 in Mark, he does not similarly edit the second quotation from Mark (except by modifying the verb tense). Jeremiah 7 promised judgment on God's people who treated his temple like a safe haven for robbers (perhaps drawing a parallel between ancient temples' function as treasuries and places where robbers stored their loot; robbers could use, for example, a cave in a mountain (Apul. Metam. 4.6).121 Jeremiah warns his contemporaries that the presence of the temple will not stay God's wrath against them; Matthew, probably writing after A.D. 70, wishes to stress the judgment against a temple establishment who rejected Jesus (23:31-36; 24:15; 27:25). Not so much the brigands in the wilderness as the temple authorities are the real bandits.122
Beyond Matthew's interpretation, many scholars hold that Jesus himself also meant his act in the temple as a symbolic prophetic sign of impending judgment,123 and much evidence supports this view.124 The Qumran community regarded the present temple as defiled and waited for God to purify the temple mount (Flusser 1988: 43); the Old Testament itself predicted such a cleansing in the time of the eschatological Elijah (Mai 3:1-3). Jeremias (1958: 65) is probably correct that Jesus speaks of the eschatological sanctuary not only explicitly (26:61) but in words about the foundation stone (16:18) and perhaps the capstone (26:42).
Blind and Lame (21:14-16)
Like synagogues, the temple courts were often used for teaching,125 and Jesus begins teaching there. By being a layman rather than a priest, Jesus is already an outsider to Jerusalem's corridors of power (Meier 1991a: 345); the aristocratic priesthood soon acquires even less reason to feel comfortable with Jesus' approach. The blind and lame came to him in the temple, although Jewish teachers did not require such people to make the journey to the temple (m. Hag. 1:1), and at least some traditions excluded them from the temple (2 Sam 5:8 LXX). This exclusion presumably related to purity laws prohibiting the entrance of those with physical abnormalities.126 Even under Levitical regulations, members of priestly families could not enter the sanctuary as priests if they were blind or lame (Lev 21:17-18); that some carried such rules further by the time of Jesus is likely. Here again Jesus apparently challenges the way the temple hierarchy has conducted the affairs of the old temple (e.g., Hill 1972: 294).127
Jesus' deeds are not the only cause for the chief priests' and legal experts' discomfort; Jesus is accepting public praise as the Son of David, and even if the priestly aristocracy were gentler than their opponents' portraits of them suggest, Roman rule left them no choice but to correct him or betray him to the governor. (Assuming that the Roman garrison mainly kept to themselves in the Fortress Antonia, the Romans themselves would notice Jesus as dangerous only when he began to gather a following, which he easily could in the temple, as Paschal hopes ran high. At the same time, the possibility of generating unrest in the temple by arresting a teacher publicly during Passover season was too dangerous to be seriously entertained; if they were forced to deal with him, it would have to be elsewhere — 26:4-5.) This position is logical assuming, of course, that he was not the Messiah, a caveat they likely did not consider. To them he was simply another charismatic leader whose reputation had allowed his ego to get out of hand; Josephus provides many examples of such leaders in first-century Palestine.
Jesus, who again defends the receptiveness of children (21:16; cf. 18:1-5; 19:13-15), responds from Scripture (since he now addresses those educated in Scripture): from the lips of children God had ordained "praise." Here some have protested that Matthew's tradition must be later because the Hebrew reads "strength" in contrast to the Septuagint's "praise" (Burkitt 1910: 24).128 But Greek was the first language of the Jerusalem aristocracy, and Jesus may have been familiar with a Greek text equivalent to the Septuagint at this point. At any rate, Matthew, who knows different text-types well enough to create eclectic texts at times but directly follows Mark's use of the Septuagint, probably follows an earlier tradition here. The text Jesus cites refers to children not yet weaned, hardly those who would shout in the temple (Gundry 1982: 414), but it is close enough to justify Jesus' point: if God can speak through babies, qal wahomer, how much more, children. And if children, qal wahomer — how much more ought the religious leaders to join in.129 Like many controversy-encounters, this one ends with Jesus' response as the pericope's final statement. Though secondary socially, children could be conduits of divine wisdom (cf. p. Sanh. 10:1, §9; elsewhere cf. Plut. Isis 14, Mor. 356E).
Then Jesus spent the night in Bethany (21:17), a town whose very name was understood to reflect the abundance of green figs in the region (Lachs 1987: 348).130 Not only Jesus but many pilgrims would arrive about a week before the festival (see Sanders 1992: 134-35).
Faith to Accomplish the Impossible (21:17-22)
Cf. Mk 11:12-14, 20-26; less relevantly, Lk 13:6-9. Matthew compresses Mark's two accounts into one,131 thus requiring his "immediately" for the sake of smooth reading. Although admitting their presence in the Hebrew Bible and in Acts, some doubt that punitive miracles fit Jesus' behavior elsewhere (Meier 1993: 884-96), but it should be noted that both destructive miracles in the Gospels (Mk 5:1-20; 11:12-26) are against property rather than people, suggesting consistency with Jesus' teaching as well as his ministry style (cf. Carson 1984b: 446). The passage coheres with Jesus' teaching about impending judgment on the temple, his teachings about radical faith, and his commissioning disciples to carry on his work. It also seems incongruent that Jesus would see himself in the tradition of biblical prophets like Elijah and yet avoid any judgment miracles. The narrative functions both as an acted parable of judgment and an invitation to prayers of faith (cf. Gardner 1991: 318).
Here Jesus provides an acted parable for his disciples, which symbolized another prophetic act of judgment. Matthew's audience, probably native to Syro-Palestine, is likely aware of what Mark states explicitly: it was not yet the season for figs (Mk 11:13; cf. Epict. Disc. 1.15.8).132 At Passover season in late March or early April, fig trees are often in leaf on the eastern side of the Mount of Olives. At this time of year, such fig trees contained only green early figs (Arabs call them taqsh), which ripen around June but often fall off before that time, leaving only green leaves on the tree. Because of their unpalatable taste, these early figs rarely were eaten; but someone too hungry to care about the taste would eat them anyway, as some do today. A leafy tree lacking such early figs, however, would bear no figs at all that year (Lane 1974a: 401; F. F. Bruce 1980a: 73-74; Gundry 1982: 417; France 1985: 303; Witherington 1990: 173).
By his arrangement of the narrative, Mark draws a connection with judgment on the temple (Gaston 1970: 83; Lane 1974a: 400); this symbolic application of the fruitless fig tree's demise makes sense in view of biblical imagery where trees may represent Israel (e.g., Jer 11:16; 24:8; 29:17; Hos 9:10; cf. comment on 3:10; vines in Mt 21:33; Robin 1962: 280-81; Hooker 1983: 82) or their barrenness judgment on Israel's fertility (e.g., Jer 8:13; Joel 1:7, 12; Mic 7:1).133 While this Markan emphasis on judgment remains in Matthew (cf. Fenton 1977: 336; Harrington 1982: 84) — after all, this is Jesus' only reported judgment miracle134 — Matthew stresses especially the lesson of faith that Jesus directly drew from the judgment sign.135 This emphasis is clear both because Matthew deemphasizes the connection with the temple by simplifying Mark's sequence, and because the lesson of faith fits other signs as well (17:20; cf. 7:7-11; Jn 14:13-14; 15:7; 16:23). In both Gospels Jesus explicitly answers only the implied question, "How did you do that?" rather than, "What were you trying to communicate?" (cf. also France 1985: 304). Still, even more than in Mark, Matthew's Q material brings out the judgment significance of the acted parable: a generation that falsely claims holiness will face judgment (3:10; 12:44-45; cf. 24:32; Jer 24). Together, these two themes may stress the faith to do miracles in the face of a hostile generation, as in the time of Elijah.
Disciples should exercise faith for what is naturally impossible. "Moving mountains" was a Jewish metaphor for accomplishing what was difficult or virtually impossible (though rabbis, who preserve it, apply it especially to labor in Torah; see, e.g., ARN 6A; 12, §29B; b. Ber. 63b; Sanh. 24a).136 First-century Jews may have also understood the value of supernaturally authorized commands (e.g., Jos. Ant. 2.287 vs. Ex 7:10; Josh 10:12; Acts 3:6)137 and a call to confidence in God's provision even before they had experienced it (Jos. Ant. 3.44-45).
The illustration for "this mountain" (21:21) is probably Mount Olivet, plainly visible from where they stood;138 because one could also see the Dead Sea from its slopes, one might think of Jesus pointing to that sea as the site where the mountain could be cast. In the background may be an allusion to the eschatological leveling of this mountain (Zech 14:4, 10; Lane 1974a: 410), but the background is at best distant; unless Matthew intends us to read this text in view of 24:14 (which seems unlikely), Jesus does not seem to refer to his followers precipitating the eschaton here (see Gundry 1982: 418). Further, few hearers who had not made pilgrimage to Jerusalem would picture the specific mountain enough to reconstruct such an allusion, and Jesus especially uses a more general allusion for the power of faith (undoubtedly belonging to bedrock tradition; cf. 17:20; Lk 17:6; 1 Cor 13:2).
More likely is a direct allusion to Zechariah 4:6-9, where Zerubbabel's obstacles in building the temple are compared to a mountain (perhaps the old Zion); the Spirit of God would bring the obstacles down. In this case Jesus is saying that no challenge to the work God has called his servants to do may stand. The "impossible" task before Jesus himself is the reformation of the Jewish religious system (21:12-13; cf. Richardson 1958: 266, too narrowly). That is, like his Davidic ruling ancestor Zerubbabel (1:12), Jesus was to prepare a new temple (21:42; cf. Zech 4:7); more than Zerubbabel, however, he would pay the price for this act of faith with his own life (21:37-39, 42; 26:61).
The Source of Jesus' Authority (21:23-27)
Cf. Mk 11:27-33; Lk 20:1 -8. The reader who has witnessed miracles such as the cursing of the fig tree understands that Jesus' authority is from God (21:21-22); the reader who has seen the fate of John the Baptist, an earlier representative of God, also recognizes what Jesus will face (cf. 21:32, 38-39). The political leaders are not, however, privy to the information Matthew's audience shares, and the authority that once excited crowds (7:29) now provokes conflict.
The form Jesus' debate takes here follows what became a standard rabbinic pattern, which probably reflects broader ancient rhetorical conventions as well: a hostile question followed by a counterquestion, admission, and final rejoinder (Daube 1973: 151-55; cf. Jn 2:18-22; Bultmann 1968: 42, 45).139 Greek controversy-narratives also typically concluded with a wise quip that silenced the opposition (or at least left no reason to report their further response); only the skillful could debate wisely enough to avoid falling into sophistic traps (Epict. Disc. 1.7.26-29). The temple courts probably provided a common public location for teaching (ARN 38A; 41, §114B; b. Pesah. 26a; Acts 2:46; Liefeld 1967: 191; Safrai 1974/76d: 905), as in the Greek world.
As far as Matthew is concerned, Jesus' opponents (and those of his community) are hypocritical in their opposition. Undoubtedly they view Jesus as a "populist" (see Rhoads and Michie 1982: 82), the sort of demagogue aristocrats normally despised (Isoc. Nic. 48, Or. 2; Areopagiticus; Arist. Pol. 3.6.4-13, 1281a-82b; 3.7.7-9, 1283ab; 3.12.1, 1288a; 4.4.4-7, 1292a; 5.4.1-2, 1304b; 5.5.4-5, 1305b; 6.2.10-12, 1319b; Rhet. 2.20.5, 1393b; Arius Didymus Epitome in Malherbe 1986: 145-46; Plut. Praising Inoffensively 16, Mor. 545C; Diog. Laert. Lives 4.42; see Martin 1990: 92-116; Gardner 1974: 27-59).140 Yet like populist politicians themselves, Jesus' adversaries were more interested in making Jesus look bad than in uncovering further truth about Jesus' claims. The Gospel tradition's irony is almost satirical: the aristocrats fear the crowds; later their coconspirators pretend to believe what in fact they do not believe (but what the reader knows to be true), that Jesus defers to no one (22:16). Jesus thus rightly labels his enemies "play actors," "hypocrites" (22:18; on the term, see comment on 6:1-18, 16-18).
Some think that Jesus appeals here to John's baptism as an existential confirmation of his own calling (e.g., Dunn 1975: 64, with Jeremias), but more likely Jesus argues by analogy: he shares the same source of authority as John does. In this context, their failure to "believe" John (21:25, 32) distinguishes them from disciples, who ideally act in faith (21:22).
Pretend Obedience versus Delayed Obedience (21:28-32)
Cf. Lk 15:11-32. The three parables in 21:28-22:14 together respond to the Judean leadership, critiquing them harshly (cf. van Tilborg 1972b: 47-52; on the context, see Carter 1998: 148-55). This passage employs customary Jewish rhetoric. "What do you think?" could signal rabbinic-style interrogation (here as a pedagogic technique, or a debate technique as in 22:17); it similarly could request a verdict (26:66). The closing question exploits an ancient parable technique bringing home the emotive force of the parable (Is 5:3-4; Jer 2:21; Lk 7:41-42). Similar story lines appear in later Jewish parables,141 although characters like a king and peasants usually replace father and sons here (probably reflecting the tendency toward kingly portrayals of God in later rabbinic stories; see comment on 18:23-27). More to the point, Jewish parables sometimes proceeded by contrasting positive and negative characters (Sifre Deut. 349.1.1), including brothers dealing with money from their father (Sifre Deut. 48.1.4; cf. Lk 15:11-13) as here; the basic moral of this story would also not be foreign to Palestinian Judaism (Gen. Rab. 85:3).142 Ancient Mediterranean culture demanded that sons honor and obey their parents, especially when they still lived on the father's estate (see Keener 1991a: 98, 197).
The vineyard provides a common enough Galilean setting for work (20:1; 21:33),143 however removed such a site and occupation might be from the daily lives of the Sadducean aristocracy; it is not impossible that Matthew sees more significance in it as well (Is 5:7; cf. Mt 21:33-44). The parable is transparent enough in its Matthean context: the repentant (3:2) son does the father's will (7:21; 12:50);144 the unrepentant son is unfruitful (3:8), claiming to do but not doing (23:3). Thus the latter stands for Israel's religious leadership, in contrast to the humble who heeded John and Jesus. In its original setting, the parable's "sons" may have alluded to Israel's status (e.g., Ex 4:22), but with a reversal of expectations regarding which part of Israel constituted the "disobedient sons" (Deut 32:20; Hos 11:1-7). (At times Israel had also promised to obey but failed to follow through; see Ex 24:7; Jer 42:6; contrast Ex 4:13.) The issue is not that "tax gatherers and prostitutes"145 are good (cf. 9:9; 18:17; cf. 19:17);146 it is that the religious people were worse, were treasonous (22:5-10). Jesus provides a question after a parable (as in Is 5:3-4; Mt 21:40; see Bultmann 1968: 183 for parables ending in questions).
Excursus: Prostitution
For modern readers familiar with the Christian condemnation of prostitution as sin, the inclusion of prostitutes with "tax gatherers" in a category of sinners is not surprising (see comment on 9:9 for tax gatherers). This familiarity should not lead us to neglect a survey of associations prostitution would suggest in an ancient Mediterranean context. Although some rabbinic accounts of prostitutes in Palestine suggest foreigners (e.g., Sifre Num. 115.5.7; b. Menah. 44a; earlier, e.g., Prov 2:16; 5:20; 22:14), prostitutes also existed in Jerusalem in the Second Temple period if Ps. Sol. 2:11 is intended literally. Ilan 1996: 214-21 links both foreign and Jewish prostitutes with Jewish clients; Tannaim seem to have emphasized and resented especially the foreign ones (Goodman 1983: 60).
Scripture forbade Jewish practice of prostitution (Deut 23:17), though it reports that it occurred (e.g., Gen 38:15-16). Jewish teachers generally resented prostitution as immoral and dangerous (Sir 9:6; 19:2; 41:20; Jos. Ant. 4.206; Sib. Or. 5.3 88),147 and as a primarily Gentile practice (e.g., 2 Macc 6:4; ARN 48, §132). Unattested in other Jewish texts, Philo's claim that prostitution was a capital offense in the law (Jos. 43; Spec. Leg. 3.51) appears to be idiosyncratic, an apologetic strategy (Belkin 1940: 256).
Many Gentiles also regarded prostitution as shameful (Diod. Sic. 12.21.2;
Artem. Oneir. 1.78), foolish (Muson. Ruf. Fr. 12, On Sexual Indulgence in Malherbe
1986: 153; Plut. Educ. 7, Mor. 5C; Diog. Ep. 44; Diog. Laert. 6.2.61, 66), and hurtful (Cato collection of distichs 25; Dio Chrys. Or. 7.133-37; Ward 1990: 286). Nevertheless, even moralists regarded prostitution as a better outlet for passion than adultery (Hor. Sat. 2.7.46-47; Greek Anthol. 7.403; Harrell 1967: 35), some philosophers regarded prejudices against prostitution as merely culturally based (Sext. Emp. Pyrrh. 3.201; Diog. Laert. 2.69, 74, 99), and the state regulated the practice at a profit wherever possible (WO 1157; OGIS 674 = IGRR 1.1183 in Lewis 1983: 141, 145, 171-72). Roman law did not prosecute an active prostitute unless she had retired and become married, in which case her activity, if she continued in it, constituted legal adultery (Justinian Codex 9.20, 22, 29; Gardner 1986: 130, 133).
In the Roman world inns and bars regularly doubled as low-class brothels (Appendix Vergiliana Copa 1-6; CIL 5.1679 in Sherk 1988: 210-11; Dio Chrys. Or. 7.133; Gardner 1986: 32; MacMullen 1974: 86-87; Casson 1974: 206-15). Although some high-class prostitutes became wealthy (e.g., Athenaeus Deipn. 13.596B; Sifre Num. 115.5.7), prostitution more often stemmed from economic necessity (e.g., B.G.U. 1024.7 in Lewis 1983: 145-46), most often slavery (Mart. Epig. 9.6.7; 9.8; Apul. Metam. 7.9; ARN 8A; Pomeroy 1975: 140-41, 192).148
The interpretation of this parable follows naturally after 21:23-27: Jesus and John represent the same source of moral authority, and those who rejected John's "way of righteousness" showed the hypocrisy of their own claims to be God's servants.149 The repentance of more openly sinful people did not provoke them to jealousy for their own spiritual status (cf. Rom 11:14).
The Murderous Tenants (21:33-44)
Cf. Mk 12:1-12; Lk 20:9-19. The basic form of the parable, expounding an initial text and concluded by other texts, fits what we know of the form for synagogue
sermons (Ellis 1977: 205). As one expects from Jesus' rural parables, this one is true to life where possible: the viticulture is accurate enough, although this accuracy stems from the Isaiah allusions (which need not be secondary, pace Nineham 1977: 311; Witherington 1990: 213; 4Q500.1 may conjoin Is 5's vineyard with the temple and possibly even Ps 118, as here — cf. Brooke 1995;
Baumgarten 1989).150 The viticultural details would also be recognized throughout the Mediterranean: fences (often a wall of loosely fitted stones) or hedges protected vineyards from animals (Ps 80:12-14; Virg. Georg. 2.371-79; Lewis 1983: 125) and watchmen used the tower (2 Chron 26:10; Is 1:8; Gundry 1982: 425), often "a hut of leaf-covered wood or possibly of stone which served both as a look-out. . . and as a shelter for the vinedressers at harvest time" (Anderson 1976: 272; see further Jeremias 1972: 74-75).151 The one point at which the parable may depart from the most common practice is the leasing of the new vineyard to tenants rather than the use of contract laborers (Llewelyn 1992: 86-105; but cf. Columella Rust. 1.7.3; 1.8.6-7). If the parable diverges from standard practice at this point, it may be to underline the degree of trust God invested in Jerusalem's leaders, and therefore the heinous extent of their betrayal.
Probably more telling in favor of its authenticity than its accurate Galilean flavor, many Semitisms appear in the Markan parable (Hengel 1968, followed also by Lane 1974a: 417n.9). It may also adapt some elements of early Palestinian Jewish story lines.152 It does not distinguish the climactic messenger, the "son," from the earlier messengers as sharply as later Christians would distinguish Jesus from the prophets (Stanton 1995a: 154). Given what we know about Jesus, there is no reason the parable could not stem from him (see further arguments in Hagner 1995: 619).
That the relationship between God and Israel constitutes the most common theme in early rabbinic parables (Johnston 1977b: 625) may be significant here. Because the vineyard probably refers to Israel (Is 5:2; cf. 3:14; Ezek 17:6; Hos 9:10; 3 Bar. 1:2; Mek. Pisha 1.162; Sifre Deut. 15.1.1; Pesiq. Rab Kah. 16:9; Ex. Rab. 30:17; 34:3; Song Rab. 2:16, §1; 7:13, §1; Jeremias 1972: 70, 76-77), the vine growers refer to the nation's religious leadership (Mt 21:45). Thus while Jesus borrows the imagery of Isaiah, he adapts it so that the primary evildoers represent not Israel but her leaders.
Neither Jesus nor Matthew contends for God's rejection of Israel as a people, but for his rejection of the current religious leadership (23:13-36; cf. Kee 1977: 113; pace Ladd 1974b: 114). Matthew also uses this threat from Jesus' day as a warning for Christian leaders in Matthew's day (24:45-51). The church and many of its leaders who readily condemn Israel's behavior have repeated Israel's frequent disobedience often enough in history and to a great extent continue to do so today; many ministers regard the church as "their" field of ministry, rather than keeping in mind who their Lord is. That the landowner here, rather than being perpetually absent, has "gone on a journey" (21:33; Mk 12:1) alludes to a Jesus tradition Matthew finds directly applicable to Jesus' own professed followers at the second coming (Mt 24:45-51; 25:14-30; Mk 13:34-36). Israel is unprepared for her master because Israel's leaders failed in their stewardship to acknowledge the true Lord of the sheep. When the Lord is absent, the tenants exploit the resources entrusted to them; but a day of reckoning is coming (cf. Prov 7:19, 22-27). The grape vintage here may represent realized eschatology (13:30; cf. 9:37-38), but probably it simply fits the imagery of the parable; the prophets and God's own Son came to collect God's due from the people, but the leaders kept it for themselves (Is 5:2; cf. Ezek 34:2; Hos 10:1-2). If anything remains future for Matthew here, it is the destruction of the leaders and the return of the vineyard to God's care (23:39).
The parable underlines the wickedness of tenants who ignore the vineyard's true owner. Because it normally took vineyards four years before they began yielding profits, it appears that the landowner already has significant wealth (Derrett 1970: 289-90); the hereditary leisured class gained their wealth from owning land that others worked for them. Although small holders may have predominated in Palestine, Galilee boasted many tenant farmers, an occupation numerous in Italy and elsewhere. In the general social structure landowners functioned as patrons, and tenants as clients (Stambaugh and Balch 1986: 64-65; see Foxhall 1990, including details about exploitation), although geographical and social distance was such that tenants had less claim on their patrons' political support than urban clients did. Tenant farmers worked the land for its owners, often absentee landlords, and paid the landowners as much as half the resulting produce.153 This arrangement was familiar enough that later rabbis also told parables of vineyards tended by tenants (e.g., Pesiq. Rab Kah. Sup. 1:11); they also could tell of an owner uprooting a vineyard that provided no fruit to portray God's judgment on a people who refused to repent (Gen. Rab. 38:9; cf. Lev. Rab. 23:3).154 Ancients valued the benevolence of landowners toward tenants, but even those who recommended that they be less than insistent on timely payment (Columella Rust. 1.7.1-2) warned them not to neglect collection of payment lest the tenants default (Colum. Rust. 1.7.2). Details would be specified in legal contracts (P. Oxy. 1631, A.D. 280), and receipts would be issued for rent paid in produce (e.g., P. Amh. 104, A.D. 125). Pace Scott 1989: 249-50, the tenants are not "expected" to challenge the landowner's honor; custom demands rather that they accept their socially inferior status and act accordingly.
While ancient Mediterranean peasants undoubtedly enjoyed their plight no more than other peasants in history, they would not have identified with the foolish tenants in this story, nor do the actions of these tenants represent a Galilean peasant revolt (Gundry 1982: 425, following Rostovzeff 1957: 1:269-73; cf. Prov 13:20; 19:7; pace Dodd 1961: 97; Jeremias 1972: 74-75).155 In antiquity, all sides regarded as treacherous the killing of unarmed messengers, or heralds (cf., e.g., Horn. II. 7.275-82; Appian R.H. 8.8.53; although some had killed royal tax collectors — 1 Kings 12:18; Gen. Rab. 42:3; Lev. Rab. 11:7). An audience would hardly expect the violence depicted here, and would undoubtedly have responded with indignation even to hearing the more usual event of a vineyard's loyal guard being beaten by robbers (CPJ §21, 1:157-58). The rejected messengers probably depict the biblical prophets (23:29-38; cf. 5:12; 1 Enoch 89:51-53); Jewish tradition not only acknowledged but amplified their sufferings.156(The stoning is not, however, a likely allusion to charges of blasphemy.)157 The slaughter of a group of ambassadors (Jos. Life 56-57) or of successive messengers (Life 50-52) appeared morally hideous.
The parable portrays God as too patient, but warns that he will eventually judge the abusive leaders. But even had the hearers not recognized the image of God and his prophets here, no one would expect the benevolent landowner to remain benevolent any longer; indeed, landlords sometimes even had their own hit squads to take out troublesome tenants.158 The state would side with the landlord, and the murderers would die or be enslaved. (Hence in a later Jewish parable, those who have killed a royal — that is, divine — messenger fear retribution — Gen. Rab. 42:3; Lev. Rab. 11:7; cf. Ruth Rab. Proem 7. The Romans likewise enslaved a whole people for killing one of their representatives.)159 At the very least, the landlord must know that the tenants hate him; in antiquity, the way people treat one's messengers is the way they would treat the sender (cf. 10:40-42; t. Ta'an. 3:2; m. Ber. 5:5; also Scott 1989: 249).160 By continuing to appeal to their sense of honor, the landowner has made himself appear a fool; to maintain any vestige of honor, he must retaliate against their repeated shaming of him (Scott 1989: 250).
Quite in contrast to expectations, however, the landowner acts with such benevolence that ancient hearers could have regarded his action merely as utter folly: he believes that the murderous tenants will at least respect his son as his own representative. Those who respected an authority figure would respect his son (Herodian 4.1.3); but those who hated that figure might kill his son (Virg. Aen. 10.492). Jesus tells us about the death of the father's own son (Matthew omits Mark's "beloved," an explicit allusion to the voice at Jesus' baptism).161 In the Old Testament, Israel was God's "inheritance" (also Jub. 1:21; Ps. Sol. 14:5; cf. 1QM 12.12), and Israel "inherited" the land (cf. 5:5; 25:34). Here, however, the true heir, God's ultimate representative, comes to receive the fruit due from God's people (3:8); the tenants commit the ultimate act of treachery. Casting him outside the vineyard (cf. Heb 13:13), they kill him.162 In the final week of his ministry, Jesus is ready to unveil the "messianic secret": more than any prophet before him, Jesus stands in a special relationship with God, and his rejection finally spells doom on the land (cf. Gundry 1982: 427; Kingsbury 1983: 150). Even here, however, his self-revelation may remain obscure until clarified by his death and resurrection; a similar Jewish parable portrays the son as Jacob and thereby Israel (Jeremias 1972: 73).163
Israel's leaders were headed for judgment. No law would have granted the vineyard to tenants who had murdered the son; though it might have fallen to them had the landowner been deceased, had no other heirs claimed it, and had they been innocent, the deaths would surely be investigated.164 Even when done by an Israelite king, the conjunction of murdering and taking possession was astonishingly evil (2 Kings 21:19). (When an owner was murdered, Roman law executed all his slaves — e.g., Tac. Ann. 14.42; Barrow 1968: 55-56; Roman law likewise treated offenses of the lower class against the higher more severely — Stambaugh and Balch 1986: 113; cf. Gaius Inst. 4.183 — and these foolish tenants had left plenty of prior evidence concerning their behavior.) As if asking for a legal ruling, Jesus questions the religious leaders what this patient landowner will finally do to the murderers. Whereas Jesus answers his own question in Mark (12:9), Matthew amplifies Jesus' Jewish teaching style (cf. 21:31; 22:20-21; Lk 19:22; 2 Sam 12:5-7; 14:5-21; 1 Kings 20:40-43; Pesiq. R. 21:2/3), allowing his indignant hearers to pronounce their own judgment (Jeremias 1972: 29).165 It may be no coincidence that postexilic interpreters understood Isaiah's parable of the vineyard (Is 5:1-7) on which this parable draws as referring to the temple's destruction (Evans 1984, on 1 Enoch 89).
Jesus concludes by again challenging their knowledge of the Scriptures (which should have made the object of his parable obvious to begin with), as in 12:3; 19:4; 21:16; and 22:31. Here he cites Psalm 118:22 from the Hallel, only a few verses from the praise recently uttered by the children (21:15; cf. 21:9; Ps 118:25-26); not only the religious authorities but the people listening to Jesus' response to their challenge will understand.166 But the cornerstone or topstone167 to which Jesus refers is part of the architecture of the temple; hearers may have recognized that he was comparing the elect community to a temple, as in the Dead Sea Scrolls.168 Most clearly, they would recognize that he was challenging the "builders," here the temple authorities. (On the historical level, this represented especially, though probably not exclusively, the Sadducees.)169
Matthew adds a further clarifying comment that expands the reproof to all Israel and loses any vestige of subtlety.170 Thus, he says, these leaders would no longer administer God's reign among his people as God's stewards (cf. 23:13; 16:19); the "nation" to whom it would be given undoubtedly refers to the holy "nation" of a new exodus (Ex 19:5-6; cf. 1 Pet 2:9).171 Henceforth they would bring forth their "fruits" — the landowner's rightful portion of the vintage — for God (3:10; Lk 13:6-9; Jn 15:1-8).172 Employing the Jewish hermeneutical technique gezerah shewah, which links verses on the basis of key terms they share, the passage develops the cornerstone idea; the prevalence of this linkage in different segments of early Christianity suggests that the image goes back to Jesus (1 Pet 2:6-8; cf. Rom 9:33). The "crushing" probably reflects Daniel 2:44, and the stumbling stone Isaiah 8:15 and 28:16 (for its potentially dual role, cf. Hos 14:9). Neither alternative is intended to be pleasant; d' (rather than the stronger adversative alia) here probably functions as a simple connective (like the Hebrew waw) rather than as a contrast. (Compare the purportedly late-second-century source cited in a still later source, Esth. Rab. 7:10, by Bonsirven 1964: 61; Young 1989: 295: whether Israel, a rock, falls on other nations, which are clay vessels, or the vessels fall on the rock, woe to the vessels.)173 Finally understanding (15:10) that he was addressing them, the religious leaders looked for a way to seize him (cf. 26:5, 50). Because the Jewish crowds believed he was a prophet, however (21:11), the leaders had to bide their time; they were cowardly politicians (21:45-46).
The Cowardly Politicians (21:45-46)
This character of Jesus' opponents fits their following actions; concerned about the populace's response, they both choose a more advantageous time to seize Jesus (26:4-5, 55; cf. Lk 22:53) and allow Pilate and the Romans to carry out the sentence. Without a degree of favor from the people whom they had to keep quiet as well as from the Romans, the household of Caiaphas could not have stayed in power so long (see fuller comment on 21:23-27).
Scorning the King's Son (22:1-14)
In the context, Jesus' harsh words condemn Israel's leaders. Yet, as often in his Gospel, Matthew apparently uses the community's opponents to warn members of his own community not to be like these opponents. Not only Jesus' enemies but even some of his supposed friends (22:11-14) would betray him.
Scholars differ considerably concerning the original form of this parable and the degree to which Matthew adapted it. Jeremias argues that Matthew has both allegorized and expanded this parable from an earlier version (referring to Lk 14:16-24; Gos. Thorn. 64 — 1972: 67-68). Yet it is far from certain that this parable represents the same parable as in Luke 14:16-24; although it shares common motifs, the story's thrust in each represents a common theme in Jesus' teachings in general, and he may have told more than one story about a custom as common as invitations to a banquet. Indeed, if rabbis freely adapted earlier stories for telling in new settings (so, e.g., Johnston 1977b: 621-24, 639), there is no reason that Jesus could not have reused different versions of a similar story line in the hundreds of times he spoke in synagogues or among other crowds (cf. also France 1985: 311). Some have pointed to elements that may be common to many Jewish stories in this period (Bauckham 1996: 482).
The Lukan parable, set amid a Lukan symposium of dinner material (Lk 14:1-24), more realistically depicts an aristocrat inviting others of some social status to a banquet (some thus suppose it more authentic — Goulder 1974: 62; Gundry 1982: 432; Marshall 1978: 584).174 By contrast, Matthew's parable more closely resembles the format of a standard rabbinic parable in which God as a king throws a wedding banquet for his son, Israel, and his daughter, Torah. (Jeremias thinks that Matthew has adapted Jesus' parable to that format — 1972: 28; I contend, conversely, that it could be a mark of authenticity.)175 Kings in Jewish parables almost always represent God (see, e.g., Johnston 1977b: 583; comment on Mt 18:23), and guests at his banquets vary in meaning, though when significant sometimes apply to those facing judgment in the final day (Johnston 1977b: 593-94).
Both the Lukan and Matthean images for God as the host occur elsewhere in Jesus' parables, and the language of each of these two parables differs considerably from that in the other. If they do represent the same original parable (so Gundry 1982: 432-41), one or both evangelists has exercised a quite free hand recasting an originally common oral tradition (the major divergences make a common basis in written Q unlikely).
But especially if Matthew has recast an earlier parable like the one in Luke, one should not lightly pass over his mention that the banquet was for the king's "son" (22:2). Here, though not as explicitly as in 21:37-38 (since the son is merely part of the setting and could be interpreted as Israel), Jesus reveals his hand again; those who dishonor the son shame and dishonor the Father who sent him. It was common for kings or important personages to throw wedding banquets for sons, as expensively as possible, to which they might invite the entire village (cf. Char. Chaer. 3.2.10; Diod. Sic. 16.91.4; 16.92.1; Phaedrus 1.6.1; stele in Sherk 1988: 33; Stambaugh and Balch 1986: 119, citing Pliny Ep. 10.116; Bailey 1976: 186; for examples of extravagance, cf. Jos. Ant. 13.18-21; Terence Lady of Andros 450-58). But God's banquet here makes special allusion to the promised messianic banquet of the messianic era (Is 25:6; Manson 1979: 225).176 In the narrative logic of the Gospel, Jesus is finally ready to unveil his identity in the final week (see Kingsbury 1986: 81-84).
Against whom is the parable directed? In an earlier form it may well have addressed the socially comfortable who despised the marginalized, as in Luke (cf. Jeremias 1972: 128); the calling of the "evil and the good" alike (22:10) may reflect this origin (cf. 13:47-50; 21:31-32). Conversely (or in addition to the previous proposal), the parable may have pronounced judgment on the Jerusalem authorities as it does in the present context. In either case, Matthew would not have been the first Jewish prophet to apply the principle of special accountability to those closest to the word (cf., e.g., Amos 3:2; 9:7). Whether it emphasizes judgment on all Israel (cf. Sandmel 1978a: 60; Mt 27:25), on Israel as a whole but not individual Jews (Hare 1979: 39), or on the Judean leadership in particular (21:43-45) may be debated, but the burning of the city in Matthew plainly refers to the destruction of Jerusalem (Jeremias 1972: 33; Hare 1979: 39; cf. Sib. Or. 4.125-26).177 In view of the evidence that Jesus expected the impending destruction of the temple (see comment on 24:2; cf. 21:12), that the text employs Old Testament judgment language (Amos 1:4, 7, 12; 2:2, 5; Gundry 1982: 436), that Jerusalemites preferred death to the defilement of Jerusalem (cf. Jos. Ant. 18.59, somewhat dramatized), that the Jesus tradition elsewhere speaks of judgment by fire (e.g., 18:8-9), that conquerors regularly burned cities,178 that kings were known to burn rebellious cities (e.g., Diod. Sic. 33.4.2, on a Syrian king), and that this text omits relevant other details about Jerusalem's demise, one cannot rule out the possibility that Jesus spoke of the city being burned (see especially Robinson 1976: 21-22). Many scholars, however, see it as a Matthean explanation of the judgment the parable implies.
Rejecting God's invitation constitutes a deliberate insult against his dignity. Last-minute notification, such as public lists that drafted people's coming or service, did occur in the ancient world (Arist. Peace 1182-84), but that is not likely the problem here. Papyri testify to the practice of double invitations, both among upper classes and in regular village life.179 Jeremias argues that "those who have been invited" (22:3) is merely a Semitism for "those to be invited" (1972: 68n.74), but this makes Matthew's Greek here more misleading than we would expect from one who might have caught the Semitism himself. Rather, the king had long ago honored the guests with an invitation, and they had appropriately responded with a promise to come; the second invitation in the parable is merely to inform them that the dinner is now ready (22:4).180 Because weddings required major preparations (Terence Lady ofAndros 362-65) and the exact time of the completion of preparations was difficult to determine in advance, a second invitation at the appropriate hour was standard procedure, and the lower a person's status, the more punctual the person was expected to be.
Attendance at weddings was a social obligation in Palestinian Judaism (Bonsirven 1964: 151); attendance at a patron's banquet was incumbent on social dependents throughout the Empire (cf. Sir 13:9-10), and one normally accepted banquet invitations even if one did not like the host (Phaedrus 4.26.17-19). Dinner invitations of all sorts were quite common (e.g., P. Oxy. 112, 1214, 1485, 1487, 2147). Those invited to some kinds of banquets might need to consider whether they could afford to reciprocate the honor later (Rohrbaugh 1991:141), but clients owed patrons (their social superiors) primarily honor (MacMullen 1974: 111; cf. the objection of Sen. Ep. Lucil. 4); patrons often based invitations on past flattery (Sen. Ep. Lucil. 47.8). To be the only ones of one's social status not invited to a royal banquet was to feel snubbed (Apoc. Ezek. 1:2, probably first century); in such a society, not inviting the right person, or inviting the wrong person, could have disastrous, even mortal, consequences (b. Git. 55b-56a). Thus, for example, one who invited to a town banquet the townsfolk but not the king merited much severer punishment than one who invited neither (t. B. Qam. 7:2).
By refusing to come, the guests insulted the dignity of the king who had counted on their attendance and graciously prepared food for them. To protect their honor guests might refuse to come to a particular person's (not a king's) banquet if others did (Rohrbaugh 1991: 142). Those invited might reject an invitation if they wished to insult the status of the host or questioned the security of his future; thus guests as well as hosts could play a role in the distribution of honor and shame (Derrett 1973: 43). For all the invited guests to refuse to come would shame the host; the absurd excuses given barely disguise what must have been a concerted plan deliberately to insult the host (Scott 1989: 171). But though village life normally continued uninterrupted regardless of who controlled the land (Goodman 1983: 33), rudeness such as is depicted here would never be directed toward a king or someone of extreme power in the community, before whom one could not even expect "safety in numbers." Ignoring a king's proclamation warranted severe punishment (e.g., Ruth Rab. Proem 7).
God will severely judge those who spurn his kindness. For the king graciously to extend the honor of an invitation to a banquet and be rebuffed as if his benefaction were meaningless was a traumatic breach of the social order. The king could salvage some honor only by getting others to eat the banquet and by punishing these who had insulted his kindness; even in less dramatic circumstances, Jewish people could envisage a king avenging his honor by executing those who had insulted him by scorning his invitation to eat (Gen. Rab. 9:10). Rejecting such an invitation was tantamount to a declaration of rebellion (Gundry 1982: 436). Hearers of the parable would marvel at the treasonous foolishness and impudence of those who would insult a king.
The added detail of slaughtered messengers (22:6)181 exceeded horrendous breach of social custom and constituted a revolutionary act, like Jewish revolutionaries slaying Roman soldiers in blatant violation of a truce. Josephus need only mention the act to explain its invitation of judgment (War 2.450-56);182 elsewhere he recounts how wicked people insulted the messengers of righteous King Hezekiah and killed the prophets, hence warranting their own destruction by God (Jos. Ant. 9.264-66). The parable's audience would naturally applaud the king's rage (cf. 3:7; 18:34) as just — except those who already felt themselves the object of its lesson (21:45). The language of "seizing" (22:6) is applicable to the fate of John (14:3) and what the authorities wish to do to Jesus (21:46). The violence is both realistic and unrealistic. It is realistic in that after an insult like the one the invitees had made against the king's honor, nothing less than such vengeance as verse 7 depicts would satisfy his honor (Malina and Rohrbaugh 1992: 135).183 Yet it is unrealistic to suppose that the king would engage in a military expedition while the food was getting cold (Young 1989: 171)! Because the story is meant to climax on the second group of invitees, however, it must narrate the annihilation of the rebels at this point.
The arrogant may spurn him, but God invites the lowly to his banquet. To recoup at least some of his honor, the king must invite other guests (in Matthew's parable, the king has actually recouped quite a bit of his honor by killing those who offended him).184 In one Jewish story even a wicked tax gatherer, snubbed by all his invited guests, the town's honorable men, invited the poor to keep food from going to waste, and so recouped some lost honor (p. Hag. 2:2, §5).185 The parable's hearer also senses the urgency ("the banquet is ready" — 22:8; cf. Rev 19:7), remembering the importance of freshly prepared food at a banquet. Since the term for "banquet" here refers to a meal taken early in the day (midday at the latest), if Jesus uses the advent of darkness outside (22:13) in a literal as well as figurative way, the meal has been delayed much of the day (cf. Gundry 1982: 434); it cannot retain any semblance of being fresh if delayed any longer. Commentators often suggest that those gathered from outside the destroyed city refer to the Gentiles (Meier 1980: 248; Theissen 1991: 272).186 Although one could think of the rural peasantry, Matthew would know that many of these fled into Jerusalem as the Roman armies advanced, and his Gentile motif elsewhere supports the thesis that Matthew intends them to include Gentiles.
Those inside the church may also dishonor God and warrant death. The parable of the wedding garment, whether originally disparate or connected to this one, probably stems from Jesus the storyteller; it reflects a story line probably already in circulation in Jewish Palestine.187
Once the newly chosen guests have begun to dine, the host enters after the banquet has begun, as was customary (Jeremias 1972: 187). Some hold that hosts may have provided wedding garments to guests at the door,188 for which there is some but slight evidence (Bultmann 1968: 202 cites b. Shab. 152b; cf. 2 Kings 10:22). But most commentators think that "wedding garments" refer simply to clean garments as opposed to soiled ones;189 to come to a wedding in a soiled garment insulted the host, and this host was in no further mood to be insulted. "How did you enter?" hence means, "How did you manage to slip by the porters at the doors?" (cf. Jeremias 1972: 187; for porters, cf., e.g., Sen. Ep. Lucil. 19.11; Treggiari 1975: 51). The question allows for an explanation of misunderstanding; the man's silence, however, indicates that the matter is not merely one of misunderstanding (Bauckham 1996: 486). Patrons invited their social dependents to banquets, expecting in return due honor; this man, like the first guests the king had invited, has responded to grace with a political insult.190
Matthew leaves no doubt as to the interpretation: the wedding garment signifies repentance (3:2; 4:17).191 Just as most of the Jewish leaders were unprepared at Jesus' first coming (cf. 23:13-33), some professing disciples of Jesus will be unprepared at his second (24:45-51).192 Professing Christians who insult God's grace by presuming on it without truly honoring his Son will be banished to outer darkness (cf. 8:12; 25:30) and weeping with gnashing of teeth (13:42; 24:51; 25:30; cf. Meier 1980: 248-49).193 As in verse 14, many are "called" or "invited" with the message of repentance (21:32; cf. 9:13), but only those who respond worthily will share the inheritance of the chosen, covenant people (also Jeremias 1971: 131; cf. 24:24); cf. 7:13-23.194
Caesar or God (22:15-22)
Cf. Mk 12:13-17; Lk 20:20-26. The next four paragraphs open with leading questions that seek to trap Jesus.195 Students often asked public questions of various teachers to expose their ignorance on some matter, hence the questioner's superiority (e.g., Aul. Gel. 18.13.7-8; 20.10.1-6). While Mark may not have purposely linked four sample representatives of later Jewish types of opening questions (Daube 1956: 343; idem 1973: 158-61) — the categories are too neat and the Gospel tradition's questions do not fit them as well as Daube hopes (Dewey 1980: 61) — Daube's parallels suggest that in general the sort of questions asked may have been characteristic of the developing Jewish schools: halakic (legal; here on tribute to Caesar); boruth, mocking questions to ridicule a rabbi's belief (here the resurrection); derekh 'eres, principles of successful life (here, the most important commandment); and haggadic (resolving possible contradictions in Scripture, here on Ps 110).196
Matthew presents the opposition as conniving. When Matthew announces that the Pharisees "took counsel" to trap Jesus (22:15), the reader may recall the last time the Pharisees "took counsel," when they were plotting his death (12:14). Still more ominously, the Herodians (v. 16) normally constituted unlikely allies for the Pharisees. Josephus's summary statements suggest that Pharisaic beliefs and those of Judas's revolutionary followers had much in common;197 Herodians were partisans of the Herodian dynasty, who held their power by Rome's favor and hoped for the full restoration of Herodian authority (cf. Simon 1967: 86).198 Josephus shows us that the Pharisees cooperated with the aristocracy especially when grave national interests were at stake, providing an essential coalition between populist and institutional leadership (e.g., Jos. Life 21-22). Here the extreme situation presented by Jesus brings them together (Smallwood 1976: 164; Bowker 1973: 41). Although Matthew omitted an earlier incident of cooperation (Mt 12:14/Mk 3:6), he retains the cooperation here, which is significant in a political context (cf. Plummer 1910: 304). Together they greet Jesus with the sort of complimentary words with which a rhetorician might seek an audience's favor (captatio benevolentiae),199 but for the purpose of lowering his guard. Ancient moralists frequently condemn the danger of trusting or offering such "flattery."200
The coalition here hopes to catch Jesus coming or going: either he will support taxes to Rome, undercutting his popular, messianic support,201 or he will challenge taxes, thereby aligning with the views that had sparked a disastrous revolt two decades earlier. In the latter case, the Herodians could charge him with being a revolutionary — hence that he should be executed, and executed quickly (cf. Argyle 1963: 168; Harrington 1982: 88; Cullmann 1956b: 34-36). Indeed, given his defiance of the temple authorities and growing following, his opponents undoubtedly felt they had good reason to suspect him of just such sentiments (Filson 1964: 131).
Locally minted copper coins omitted the emperor's portrait due to Jerusalem's sensitivities,202 but because only the imperial mint (on which in the early Empire see Jones 1970: 299-305) could legally produce silver and gold coins,203 Palestine had many foreign coins in circulation (Schiirer 1961: 196). The silver denarius of Tiberius, including a portrait of his head and minted especially at Lyon, circulated there in this period; although an earlier coin might be in view, this imperial denarius is most likely (Reicke 1974: 137; Avi-Yonah 1974/76a: 61; Hart 1984). The coin related directly to pagan Roman religion and to the imperial cult in the east: the side bearing his image also included a superscription, namely, "TI. CAESAR DIVI AVG.F.AVGVSTVS" — "Tiberius Caesar, son of the Divine Augustus"; the other side bore a feminine image (perhaps of the Empress Livia personified as the goddess Roma) and read "PONTIF. MAXIM," referring to the high priest of Roman religion (Deissmann 1978: 252n.2; Ferguson 1987: 70-71). The Empire actively used such coins to promote the worship of the emperor (Gardner 1974: xxviii),204 and while Jews were allowed to honor emperors, they were expected to avoid images (Jos. Apion 2.76-77). The emperor controlled the production of the coins, and they were officially his property (Lane 1974a: 424). Yet like it or not, Jews had to use this coin; it was the one required for the poll tax in all provinces (Lane 1974a: 424). That was, of course, the tax that had provoked Judas the Galilean's famous revolt of A.D. 6 (Jos. War 2.118). In the province of Syria, Roman property tax was 1 percent annually; the poll tax was probably one denarius a year for each person (including, in this province, women; Stambaugh and Balch 1986: 78).
Matthew presents Jesus as more than adequate for their rhetorical challenge. But Jesus, as always, knows their thoughts (9:4; 26:10), and responds accordingly. To render to Caesar what was Caesar's was to return his own coin to him (cf. 17:25; Rom 13:6-7; 1 Pet 2:13-14);205 to render to God what was God's was to render worship to him alone (cf. 4:10).206 Neither the image nor the superscription on coins in common usage could prevent Jewish people's single-minded devotion to God, nor did the coin have this effect. Further, Jesus undoubtedly challenged the idea that his opponents needed to hold onto the coins at all; why not return them to Caesar? Jerusalemites preferred death to allowing Caesar's image to enter Jerusalem on standards (Jos. Ant. 18.59), yet they carried it in on coins. One would make such an exception for money only if money were of extreme importance (White 1971: 233; Witherington 1990: 102; cf. 6:19-34); by contrast, surrendering to God "what is God's" implied the surrender of all one was and possessed (Patte 1987: 309-10).207 In Jesus' teaching elsewhere, possessions have zero value, and those who seek them are not the simple who trust in God (6:19-34). Jesus has not compromised his popular support, but rather embarrassed his challengers; they, not he, are carrying the offensive coin, so scruples against it cannot be their own (Danker 1972: 202-3; Meier 1980: 251-52).208 In view of this, as well as their shallow sycophancy in pretending to believe that he speaks the "way" of God in truth (22:16, following Jesus' words in 21:32), they rightly earn his derisive title for them: "hypocrites" (6:2; 15:7; 23:13-29; 24:51).209
Through others' response to Jesus, Matthew indicates that Jesus was greater than the categories his contemporaries had available for him. Here people marvel at Jesus' response (22:22); elsewhere people marvel at his teaching (7:28), his nature miracles (8:27), his healing (9:8), his exorcism (12:23), and in the Passion Narrative Pilate marvels at Jesus' silence (27:14). In all these cases, Jesus confounds others' expectations.
Proving the Resurrection (22:23-33)
The tradition preserved in this passage has a good claim to authenticity. Later Christians would have little reason to compose a dialogue with Sadducean ideas; although Sadducees persecuted the early Jewish Christians and we might expect traces of that in the tradition, we have no evidence of theological dialogue between them (Witherington 1990: 15n.58).
Levirate marriage and widow inheritance210 are practiced in many traditional societies (e.g., Lowie 1968: 58; Abrahams 1973; Evans-Pritchard 1951: 112-15), often as ways to perpetuate the name of the deceased and to provide for the widow in societies where women could not earn sufficient wages for sustenance (e.g., Mbiti 1970: 188-89; Nadal 1950: 350).211 Always part of Israel's law code (Deut 25:5-6; cf. Gen. 38:8-26), levirate marriage remained a topic of discussion among Jewish teachers (Jos. Ant. 4.254-56; m. Yebam.; t. Yebam.),212 occasionally including attempts to define the law in hypothetical cases like the one the Sadducees propose here (cf. t. Yebam. 2:1; Jeremias 1969: 93-94 on b. Yebam. 15b). In this period in Palestine, one did not simply raise up offspring, but married the widow (Belkin 1970; cf. Ruth 3:12-13). Many ancient hearers would assume dangerous a woman who had outlived seven husbands, blaming her ill fortune or worse (Mart. Epig. 9.15; Lucan C.W. 3.21-23; Tob 3:7-10; in early Jewish sources see Friedman 1990); some Tannaim even ruled that she should be forbidden to marry after the second or third husband (t. Shab. 15:8). But the Sadducees borrow the story line of a woman with seven husbands especially from the popular Jewish folk tale in Tobit 3:8 (as others note, e.g., Lane 1974a: 427).213 The Sadducees are interested neither in moral nor in legal questions here, but endeavor to illustrate the impossible dilemmas they believe the doctrine of resurrection creates (one may compare romantic complications in Greco-Roman afterlife scenarios, e.g., Virg. Aen. 6.467-76). The Sadducees were known for their opposition to the doctrine of the resurrection (Acts 23:6-8; perhaps Jos. Ant. 18.16; War 2.164-65; cf. ARN 5; 10A; a reading of b. Shab. 152b; the Palestinian Targum in Isenberg 1970; the alternative hypothesis of Lachs 1977, that the issue was the character of the resurrection, is less probable).
In his response Jesus first addresses the nature of the resurrection, arguing by means of analogy with the angels. Other sages (not Sadducees) agreed that the world to come would differ from the present one on some significant points; some later teachers included among the differences no eating, drinking, or begetting children (b. Ber. 17a). Enoch's Similitudes (of possibly but not certainly pre-Christian date) declare that the righteous would dwell with angels (1 Enoch 39:5)214 and that God originally created people to be like angels, pure and deathless (1 Enoch 69:11; cf. Theophilus 2.24; Israel at Sinai in Num. Rab. 16:24). Others felt that the children of the age to come would be like angels, although this normally referred to glory rather than specifically to marriage (2 Bar. 51:10-11; cf. also 1 Enoch 104:2, 4).
Many Jewish thinkers also contrasted the nature of humanity with that of the angels (cf. 18:10); most agreed that angels did not eat, drink,215 or propagate.216 Propagation is unnecessary since angels do not die (1 Enoch 15:6-7);217 hence also among the resurrected (cf. b. B. Bat. 58a, no passion in the next world).218 "Taking in marriage" was the action of a husband (e.g., CD 7.6-7; m. Yebam. 8:6); "giving in marriage" was the action of a father (e.g., Appian R.H. 1.1.1). Jesus' statement about lack of marriage and procreation in heaven (22:30) follows from the logic of the resurrection, to which he now turns (22:31-32).
Having defined the nature of the resurrection, Jesus now proceeds to defend the fact of the resurrection, which is the issue really at stake with the Sadducees. Early Jewish teachers regularly argued apart from the Bible with Gentiles or scoffers, but from Scripture for those who knew Scripture (Moore 1971: 2:381). While Jesus may not follow later rabbinic lines of argument (Cohn-Sherbok 1981a), his argument has much in common with the case Pharisees reportedly made for the resurrection (cf., e.g., Lachs 1987: 361; Davies and Allison 1997: 233).219 When debating the views of Sadducees who doubted the resurrection and demanded proof from the law of Moses, later rabbis found ample proof for this doctrine in the Bible's first five books (b. Sanh. 90b, including a second-century source; cf. Pesah. 68a). Thus, for example, Aaron the priest, who died before entering the land, must be raised to inherit his portion of the land (b. Sanh. 90b, third-century tradition; cf. Qoh. Rab. 9:5, §1). Others found it in Deuteronomy 32 (Sifre Deut. 329.2.1; cf. also 4 Macc 18:19), Genesis 3 (Gen. Rab. 20:10 — a second-century Tanna), and elsewhere. R. Simai later went so far as to say that all texts implied the resurrection if one simply had the exegetical (modern exegetes would call it eisegetical!) ingenuity to find it (Midr. Tannaim on Deut 32:2, in Moore 1971: 2:383; Sifre Deut. 306.28.3).
Jesus also cites a line of argument intelligible in his culture, as contemporary sources attest: Philo also found in Exodus 3:6 that the patriarchs continued to live (Abr. 50-55 in Downing 1982): 4 Maccabees declares that the patriarchs did not die, but live to God (4 Macc 7:18-19; 16:25); some later rabbis also inferred from the promise to the patriarchs (Ex 33:1) that "the righteous are called living even in their death" (Qoh. Rab. 9:5, § 1; cf. Ex. Rab. 1:8; Deut. Rab. 3:15). The righteous are lost to their generation at death, but remain the righteous (b. Meg. 15a); sages could also read "living God" as "God of the living" (Pesiq. R. 1:2). Charlesworth is thus right to note that both Jesus' teaching here and 4 Maccabees 7:19 "contain a widespread Jewish notion, namely that the Patriarchs are not really dead" (1985: 78-79).
Jesus may be arguing for God's continuing purposes with an individual after death, which for many Palestinian Jews would imply ultimate resurrection. He implies that God would not claim to be the God of someone who no longer existed (cf. Doeve 1954: 106; Longenecker 1975: 68-69); he also evokes God's covenant faithfulness to his people, which Palestinian Jewish prayers regularly associated with the "God of the fathers," Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (twice daily, by the second century at the latest; Jeremias 1971: 187; Lane 1974a: 429). Jewish people regularly invoked God as the "God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob" (e.g., Mek. Pisha 1.23-27; b. Ber. 16b; Gen. Rab. 82:3; Test. Mos. 3:9; the first benediction of the Amida; other nations also addressed the gods of their ancestors, e.g., Virg. Aen. 9.247). If God was still God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and if his power was unlimited, then he would ultimately fulfill his promise to them, not only corporately through their descendants, but personally to them.
As an expert Scripture interpreter, Jesus here exposes his opponents' lack of Scripture knowledge with his standard formula: "Have you not read?" (22:31; cf. 12:3; 19:4; 21:42, 46), which functions as a deliberate challenge. Later rabbis could also question the ignorance of those who doubted the resurrection (Deut. Rab. 3:15); many educated Jews conceded that ignorance of God's law and justice merited judgment (Sib. Or. 3.686-87); denial of eschatol-ogy produced immorality (Wis 2:1-24) and invited damnation (m. Ber. 9:5). For Jesus, the problem with the Sadducees comes down to their inadequate faith in Scripture and in God's power to accomplish the resurrection (22:29). When Jesus declares that the Sadducees deny the power of God (cf. 2 Tim 3:5), he may evoke the traditional Jewish view that God expresses his power most visibly in the resurrection of the dead, a view attested in the second of the Eighteen Benedictions (abbreviated as "Power"; cf. m. Rosh. Hash. 4:5; cf. also Rom 1:4).220
In this context, Matthew may also use Jesus' "silencing" of his opponents (22:34; a way of shaming them, e.g., Aul. Gel. 1.2.13; 18.13.7-8) to suggest implications beyond the immediate debate for their standing at the judgment (22:12). The multitudes are again astounded by Jesus' quick wit (22:33; cf. 7:28; 22:22, 46), just as they are by his signs (8:27; 9:8; 12:23).
Loving God and Neighbor (22:34-40)
Cf. Mk 12:28-34; Lk 10:25-28; Jn 13:34-35. "Testing" scholars with riddles (22:35) — and God vindicating the divine wisdom given to his servant — is at least as old as King Solomon(l Kings 10:1; elsewhere, e.g., Ep. Arist. 187-291). In this context, however, the intent may be more malicious (cf. 16:1; 19:3; 22:18), related to that of the supreme tempter (4:1).
This passage certainly reflects Palestinian Jewish tradition (see most fully Abrahams 1917: 18-29). Some Pharisees ask a question with which they had sufficient practice, since their own teachers debated among themselves which commandment was the "greatest."221 Although all commandments were equally weighty in one sense (see on 5:19), rabbis had to distinguish between "light" and "heavy" commandments in practice (see on 23:23).222 Although many opted for the command to obey one's parents as the "greatest," other Jewish teachers stressed love as the preeminent commandment.223 Judaism continued to stress loving God with one's whole being;224 love for neighbor had long been a fundamental principle of Jewish ethics (m. 'Abot 1:12, attributed to Hillel; Jub. 36:4, 8).225
In the late first century R. Akiba, in contrast to some of his colleagues, regarded love of neighbor in Leviticus 19:18 as the greatest commandment in the law (Sifra Qed. pq. 4.200.3.7; Gen. Rab. 24:7); while this is not where Jesus ranked it (Smith 1951: 138), it was close.226 Other Jewish teachers also conjoined love of God with love of neighbor (Test. Iss. 5:2; 7:6; Dan 5:3; Philo De-cal. 108-10; cf. Philo Every Good Man Is Free 83; Jos. Ant. 3.213); following the Jewish interpretive principle gezerah shewah (borrowed from hellenism), it was natural to link two commandments on the basis of the common opening word we'ahabta ("You shall love" — Diezinger 1978; Flusser 1988: 479). Philo headed the most essential laws under the two categories of Godward and humanward (Spec. Leg. 2.63; see more fully Sanders 1990: 70).227
Yet Jesus' combination of the two as the greatest commandments, which exercised an authoritative influence on subsequent Christian formulations (including Paul's frequent triad of virtues with love as the greatest — 1 Cor 13:13), is distinctive (cf. Vermes 1993: 43).228 In the multiplicity of other proposals concerning the greatest commandment in antiquity, only Jesus wielded the moral authority among his followers to focus their ethics so profoundly around a single theme (cf. Meier 1980: 257). The distinctive primacy that love plays in virtually all early Christian ethics would not have been possible had the Christians not derived this primacy from the mouth of the one Teacher who united them. Thence comes the early Christian "law of love" (cf. Rom 13:8-10; Gal 5:14; Jas 2:8; Jn 13:34-35; cf. Manson 1963: 80; on the difference between Matthean and Pauline emphases here, see Mohrlang 1984: 45). This teaching coheres with other extant records of Jesus' ethics (5:43-46; Lk 6:27-35; Nissen 1997).
The first passage Jesus cites in fact portrays the love of God as a summary of the law (Deut 6:1-7); one who loved God would fulfill the whole Torah (Deut 5:29). This passage about loving God was the central and best-known text of Judaism, the Shema. Likewise, the command to love one's neighbor as oneself (Lev 19:18; cf. Mt 5:43; Rom 13:9) expresses a general principle, though its original context applied it to a more specific situation. As in 7:12, Matthew reminds his audience that these commandments epitomize all the commandments in the Bible.229 Given Matthew's emphasis on keeping Jesus' commandments (28:20) and Jesus' continuity with Moses' law (5:17-20), two commandments that epitomize the rest are clearly central to his ethics.
David's Son, David's Lord (22:41-46)
While Jesus' teaching could be read as repudiating the Messiah's Davidic descent (so Grant 1943: 193), the real problem here (as Matthew and Luke especially emphasize) is how he can be David's Lord yet at the same time David's son (Schweizer 1975: 427), how he can be younger in age yet superior in rank (Moule 1965: 99; the usual rule seems to have been that the father honors a son of higher rank when in public settings — Aul. Gel. 2.2). Jewish teachers often asked didactic questions that functioned as "haggadic antinomy," in which both sides of a question were correct but their relationship needed to be resolved (Jeremias 1971: 259; France 1985: 321). The Messiah, that is, the "anointed" king, was by definition "Son of David" in various circles of Jewish expectation (Lane 1974a: 435; cf. Ps 89:27; Is 9:7; 11:1; Jer 23:5-6). Yet the title "Lord" describes him far more adequately (Harrington 1982: 90; Argyle 1963: 170; Meier 1980: 260), and this passage supplies the working christological sense of "Lord" elsewhere in Matthew's Gospel (Bornkamm 1963a: 42-43; cf. 12:8).
Because the language about being son of David is ambiguous, however, it is virtually unthinkable that the early Christians would have created a pericope that could be used to challenge Jesus' Davidic descent, hence his Messiahship.230 Early Judaism may not have applied Psalm 110 in a messianic sense,231 but the psalm was readily available for Jesus' own use no less than that of his followers, and by speaking of a "lord" of David secondary to Yahweh it naturally enough lent itself to quasimessianic or supermessianic speculation. This passage surely goes back to the historical Jesus.
That David (accepted by Jesus' contemporaries as the Psalm's author) calls him this "in the Spirit" suggests prophetic inspiration (e.g., Jub. 31:12; 1 Enoch 91:1; Ps-Philo 28:6; 1QS 8.16; Sifre Deut. 22.1.2); of course, most Jews acknowledged that God had inspired Scripture,232 and ancient Mediterranean society in general viewed songs (like the psalms) as inspired in some manner (cf. Keener 1992: 264-65, 275-77). By reminding his hearers that David speaks by divine inspiration, Jesus indicates that his words are authoritative.
Because Jesus had just cited one text in which the "Lord" was God (22:37), his emphasis on the subordinate "Lord" of Psalm 110 (pronounced as if it read the same in public reading and certainly in Greek, despite the difference in Hebrew) would sound striking, especially given the frequent practice of linking texts on the basis of common key words. If David spoke to a Lord besides Yahweh, a Lord who would be enthroned at God's right hand as his vice-regent, then the eternal king was someone greater than David or merely a descendant of David — perhaps to be understood on the Near Eastern analogy of divine kings (cf. Hanson 1963: 154).233 Citing "mighty God" (Is 9:6) might have sounded like it violated monotheism, but "Lord" was sufficiently ambiguous to make the point without yet providing the temple authorities words with which to condemn Jesus from his own mouth. Psalm 110 became a widespread messianic testimonium in the early church (e.g., Acts 2:34-35; Eph 1:20; Heb 1:13; Justin 1 Apol. 45), owing no doubt to Jesus' use here.234
Matthew's changes in Mark here are noteworthy; just as Jesus here addresses specifically the Pharisees (22:41; cf. 3:7) rather than the crowds in general (Mk 12:37), Jesus' monologue gives way to questions with answers in typical rabbinic style (Gundry 1982: 450-51). Although technically the question introducing this pericope was Jesus' own, so that Matthew could have followed Mark in announcing "they dare ask him no further questions" earlier in the narrative (Mk 12:34; Lk 20:40), Matthew reserves this "punch" for the end of Jesus' public controversies. He had silenced and shamed his adversaries. Being overawed by a wise speaker's wisdom was a common motif in narratives meant to glorify their protagonist (e.g., 1 Esdr 4:41-42; cf. Ep. Arist. 186, 200, 220, 230, 235, 257, 261, 274, 281, 293); Matthew's audience could see in Jesus their hero who could answer all the objections raised by their opponents.