8:1 All Were Scattered?

8:1 All Were Scattered?

Later in the New Testament period, when family life was acknowledged as the norm for Christians, it is laid down that “if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his immediate family, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever” (1 Tim 5:8). There is no evidence in the Gospels that this conflicts with the teaching of Jesus. But this needed no emphasizing from him: it is natural for men and women to make what provision they can for their nearest and dearest. Jesus’ emphasis lay rather on the necessity of treating the kingdom of God as nearer and dearer still.

Because of the natural resistance on the part of his hearers to accepting this necessity

with literal seriousness, he insisted on it in the most arresting and challenging language at his command.

See also comment on matthew 19:12; luke 9:60; 9:62.

14:34 Saltless Salt?

See comment on mark 9:50.

15:25–28 Is the Elder Brother Unreasonable?

The prodigal’s elder brother deserves our sympathy. He had never given his father a moment’s anxiety, but no fuss was ever made over him. Of course not; no one makes a fuss over people who are always at hand and always dependable. The tendency is rather to take them for granted, and those who are always being taken for granted become aware of the fact and do not like it.

How different it was with the younger son! His original request was reasonable: for the two sons to share the family smallholding would probably not have worked. It was better that he should get his share of the inheritance in cash and seek his living elsewhere. His was in any case the smaller share; the elder son would get his double portion in land.

The trouble arose when the younger son squandered his money instead of investing it wisely. The day of reckoning was bound to come for him. For a Jew to be reduced to looking after a Gentile’s pigs was degradation indeed; yet he would gladly have joined the pigs at the feeding trough for a share in the carob-bean pods which they munched, so hungry was he. To go back and beg for employment as a casual laborer on his father’s land was humiliating, but he could think of nothing better. Casual laborers might earn but a denarius a day, but that was probably more than he was getting from the pig owner; and while they were at their duties, they could eat as much as they wanted. So he swallowed his pride and went back.

The father might have said, “That’s all very well, young man; we have heard fine speeches before. Now you buckle down and get to work as you have never worked before, and if we see that you really mean what you say, we may let you work your passage. But you can never make good the damage you have done to the family’s good name and property.” That in itself would have been an act of grace; it might have done the young man a world of good, and his elder brother would probably not have objected. But—and this is the point of the parable—that is not how God treats sinners.

He does not put them on probation first, to see how they will turn out. He welcomes them with overflowing love and generosity. And Jesus, in befriending such undesirable types as he did, was displaying the generous love of God.

Those who entered into theological controversy with Jesus would not have denied that God was like that. In a later rabbinical work God is represented as saying to the Israelites, “Open to me a gateway of repentance only as wide as the eye of a needle, and I will drive chariots and horses through it.”9 [9 Shir ha-Shirim Rabba 5:2.] But it is not always easy to put theological theory into practice. They might magnify the grace of God, as we may do, but does it not seem prudent to put repentant sinners on probation first? Can they be admitted to the holy table, not to speak of our own tables at home,

without more ado?

That is how the prodigal’s elder brother felt. He had stayed at home all the time, led a blameless life, worked on the farm, carried out his father’s direction. It had not occurred to him to expect much in the way of appreciation until the black sheep of the family turned up with his hard-luck story and the occasion was celebrated with an evening’s feasting and jollification—the fatted calf killed, the neighbors invited in, music and dancing and no expense spared!

But life is like that. As the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin showed, more fuss is made over the recovery of something that was lost than over the safe keeping of what has been there all the time, and where human beings are concerned, this is even more so.

There are young people who have come up through Sunday school and Bible class, who join the church and are present week by week at all the meetings—perhaps notice is taken of them, perhaps not. But here is a rank outsider—a youth out on probation, maybe—who has been dragged along to a Billy Graham meeting and has gone forward when the appeal was made; and what a fuss is made of him! He is billed at every youth rally and invited to give his testimony at every opportunity (and it must be admitted that his testimony is rather more colorful than that of someone who has never strayed from the straight and narrow). One can understand the jaundiced point of view of some of the others!

No blame is attached to the elder brother; he remains sole heir to all his father’s property. He simply does not feel the way his father does about the prodigal’s return.

A human father feels that way, and the heavenly Father feels that way. “There will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent” (Lk 15:7). No blame attaches to the ninety-nine; of course not. But they were never lost; that is what makes the difference.

16:9 Use Money to Make Friends?

This is the “moral” of the parable of the dishonest steward, a story which presents problems of its own. The steward looked after his master’s estate, dealt with the other employees and tenants, and in general should have relieved his master of all concern about the day-to-day running of his affairs. But he mismanaged the estate, and not simply (it appears) through incompetence or negligence, until the time came when his master discovered that his affairs were in bad shape and ordered the steward to turn in his books, since his employment was terminated.

Before he turned in his books, the steward took some hasty measures with an eye to his future interests. In particular, he summoned his master’s debtors and reduced their debts substantially, altering the entries accordingly. Perhaps we are to understand that he made good the difference out of his own pocket; if he did, his money was well invested. He wanted to be sure of bed and board when he was dismissed from his employment with no severance benefit. No one would take him on as steward (his master was not likely to give him the kind of testimonial that would encourage any other landowner to employ him); the alternatives were casual labor (digging, for example) or begging. He did not feel strong enough for the former, and to be a beggar would be insufferably disgraceful. But if he made some friends now by a judicious

expenditure of his means, they might give him shelter when he was evicted from his tied cottage.

His master got to know of his action and called him a clever rascal. No more than this need be understood of Jesus’ remark that “the master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly” (Lk 16:8). The master may well have recognized some analogy between the steward’s conduct and the methods by which his own wealth had been amassed. “You see,” said Jesus, “worldly people, with no thoughts beyond this present life, will sometimes behave more sensibly and providently than other-worldly people, ‘the children of light.’ They will use material wealth to prepare for their earthly future; why cannot the children of light use it to prepare for their eternal future? Use the ‘unrighteous mammon’ to win yourselves friends in the world to come.” It is called “unrighteous mammon” because it is too often acquired unjustly and used for unjust ends. It is ethically neutral in itself; it is people’s attitudes to it and ways of dealing with it that are reprehensible. As has often been pointed out, it is not money as such but “the love of money” which Scripture affirms to be “the root of all evils” (1 Tim 6:10 RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] ).

But how can material wealth be used to procure friends who will receive one “into eternal dwellings” when it is no longer accessible? This parable is followed by a collection of isolated sayings, several of which are concerned with the subject of wealth, and then comes another story—the story of the rich man and Lazarus. In it we meet a man who had plenty of the “unrighteous mammon” and used it all to secure comfort and good cheer for himself in this life, giving no thought to the life to come.

The time came when he would have been very glad to have even one friend to welcome him into the “eternal habitations,” but he found none. Yet he had every opportunity of securing such a friend. There at his gate lay Lazarus, destitute and covered with sores, only too glad to catch and eat the pieces of bread which the rich man and his guests used to wipe their fingers at table and then threw to the dogs outside. If the rich man had used a little of his wealth to help Lazarus, he would have had a friend to speak up for him on the other side. “This man,” Lazarus might have said to Abraham, “showed me the kindness of God on earth.” But Lazarus had been given no ground to say any such thing. The rich man in Hades found himself without a friend when he needed one most—and he had no one to blame but himself.

16:13 You Cannot Serve Both God and Mammon?

See comment on matthew 6:24.

16:16 Forcefully into the Kingdom?

Matthew (Mt 11:12) and Luke (Lk 16:16) appear to present us here with two versions of one and the same original saying. We have to try to determine what each of the two versions means in the context in which either Evangelist has placed it; then, if possible, we have to determine what the original saying meant in the context of Jesus’ ministry.

Both versions agree on this: the ministry of John the Baptist was an epoch marking the end of one age and the approach of a new. “All the prophets and the law prophesied until John” (Mt 11:13 RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] ). John himself belonged rather to the old age than to the new. He is viewed as being the last and greatest of the

“goodly fellowship of the prophets”; while he was the herald of the new order he did not actually participate in it. When his public ministry was forcibly ended by his imprisonment, that was the signal for Jesus to embark on his ministry in Galilee, with the proclamation that the kingdom of God had drawn near.

“Since that time,” says Jesus in Luke’s version of his words, “the good news of the kingdom of God is being preached.” That was a statement of fact, which his hearers must have recognized. But in what sense is everyone forcing his way into it, or “enter

[ing] it violently” (RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] )?

Luke includes his version in a series of sayings inserted between the story of the dishonest steward and the story of the rich man and Lazarus and linked together by the general theme of law. “Everyone forces his way in,” says the NEB [NEB New English Bible] ; the TEV [TEV Today’s English Verision] has the same wording. This might suggest something like a universal gate-crashing, which does not tally too well with some other sayings of Jesus on the relative few who will enter the kingdom, such as

“Make every effort to enter through the narrow door; because many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able to” (Lk 13:24; Mt 7:13–14). But perhaps the meaning is

“Everyone who enters must force his way in,” which implies the same kind of determined and vigorous action as “Make every effort to enter” or “Strive to enter”

(RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] ). So far as the Lukan version of the saying goes, this could well be its meaning. It was no doubt this interpretation of it that moved an eighteenth-century hymn-writer to say, in language which probably sounded less strange in his contemporaries’ ears than it does in ours:

O may thy mighty word

Inspire each feeble worm

To rush into thy kingdom, Lord,

And take it as by storm!

But Matthew’s version now demands our attention. Where Luke says, “The good news of the kingdom of God is being preached,” Matthew says, “The kingdom of heaven has suffered violence.” But there is an ambiguity in the particular form of the Greek verb in this clause; it may have passive force, meaning “has been treated with violence” or “has been suffering violence,” or it may have intransitive force, meaning

“has been acting violently” or “has been forcing its way in.” It could be said in favor of this last interpretation that in the ministry of Jesus the kingdom of heaven was on the march, taking the field against the forces of evil that held the souls and bodies of men and women in bondage. The mighty works that were an essential part of his ministry were the “powers of the age to come” invading the present age and establishing a beach-head on its territory that was destined to expand until nothing of the old order was left.

If the passive force of the verb be preferred, then Jesus says that from the time of John the Baptist the kingdom of heaven has been violently attacked. This meaning too could fit the setting of the words. Matthew records them among several of Jesus’ sayings about John (including the description of him as unsurpassed among those born of women), which he appends to the incident of John’s messengers who were sent to question Jesus. It could be said that the imprisonment of John the Baptist (with his

ensuing execution) was one instance of a violent attack on the kingdom of heaven by forces opposed to it—whether one thinks of human forces or demonic forces using men as their instruments. Further attacks were to be experienced until they reached their climax in the arrest and crucifixion of Jesus himself. The same meaning could be attached to the following clause: “and men of violence take it by force” or “men of violence seize it.” In that case, the two clauses say very much the same thing.

But the “men of violence” need not be those who violently attacked the kingdom which Jesus proclaimed. There were other “men of violence” around at the time—

those who came to be known as the party of the Zealots. They were passionately devoted to the bringing in of the kingdom of God, but their methods were clearly contrary to those which Jesus practiced and recommended. The kingdom of God, as they understood it, was a new order in which the Jewish people would live in freedom from Gentile rule, subject to no king but the God of their fathers. This new order could be introduced only by the forcible expulsion of the occupying Roman power from Judea. Many of Jesus’ hearers could remember the revolt of one such “man of violence,” Judas the Galilean, in a.d. 6. That revolt was crushed by the Romans, but the spirit which inspired it lived on. It could be said that men of this outlook were trying to take the kingdom of God by force, and on the whole it seems most probable that Jesus was referring to them.

Matthew’s wording, then, seems to mean that, despite the setback which the cause of God might have seemed to suffer by the imprisonment of John the Baptist, his kingdom has in reality been advancing irresistibly ever since. Men of violence may attempt to speed its progress by armed force, but that is not the way in which its triumph will be assured.

When Luke’s account and Matthew’s are compared, it appears that Matthew’s wording is more relevant to the immediate circumstances of Jesus’ ministry, while Luke’s wording generalizes the application of the saying, showing how its principle continued to work itself out in the worldwide proclamation and progress of the gospel.

The good news was still being made known, and it still called for courage and resolution to enter the kingdom of God.

16:17 Eternal Law?

See comment on matthew 5:17–20.

16:18 No Divorce and Remarriage?

See comment on mark 10:11–12.

16:25 Woe to the Rich?

See comment on james 5:1.

16:26 What Is the Great Gulf?

This verse is part of Abraham’s reply to the rich man, explaining why Lazarus could

not go and cool his tongue with a drop of water and so relieve his anguish.

Even if the rich man had used some of his wealth to help Lazarus on earth (see article on Lk 16:9), and Lazarus had therefore been willing to do something for him in the afterworld, how could Lazarus have crossed the great gulf or chasm that lay between them? But the chasm is not a geographical one, whose width and depth could be measured. When the story is read in the KJV [KJV King James Version] , a wrong impression may be given by the statement that, when the rich man died and was buried,

“in hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torments” (Lk 16:23 KJV [KJV King James Version] ). As more recent versions indicate, “hell” means Hades, the undifferentiated abode of the dead. It was not because he was in Hades that the rich man was in pain, but because of his past life. Had he made a friend of Lazarus by helping him in his wretchedness, there would not have been the impassable gulf that prevented Lazarus from coming to help him. The impassable gulf, in fact, was of the rich man’s own creating. This may mean more or less what C. S. Lewis expressed by a different metaphor when he suggested that “the doors of hell” (and he meant the abode of the damned, not just the abode of the dead) “are locked on the inside.” 10 [10 C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain (London: Fount, 1940), p. 115.]

The story of the rich man and Lazarus appears to have a literary and oral prehistory, and it is interesting to explore this. But such exploration will not help us much to understand it in the context which Luke has given it (and Luke is the only Evangelist to record it).

The rich man, hearing that it is impossible for Lazarus to come and help him, turns his mind to something else. Let Lazarus be sent back to earth to warn the rich man’s five brothers to mend their ways, lest they find themselves after death sharing his own sad lot. Perhaps there is the implication here: “If only someone had come back to warn me, I should not have found myself in this plight.” But Abraham replies that they have all the warning they need: “They have Moses and the Prophets,” that is, the Bible. If the rich man himself had paid heed to what Moses and the Prophets say about the blessedness of those who consider the poor—a theme so pervasive that it cannot well be overlooked—it would have been better for him.

But Moses and the Prophets are not enough, argued the rich man. Let them have an exceptional sign that will compel their repentance. Abraham’s response has special relevance to what was happening in the course of Jesus’ ministry. People asked him to validate his claim that the kingdom of God had approached them in his ministry by showing them a sign from heaven—something spectacular that would compel them to acknowledge his authority to speak and act as he did. He refused to grant their request: if his works and words were not self-authenticating, then no external sign, however impressive, could be any more persuasive. Moses and the prophets, pleads the rich man, are not persuasive enough, “but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.” But Abraham has the last word: “If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead” (Lk 16:31).

Or, as James Denney paraphrased it, “If they can be inhuman with the Bible in their hands and Lazarus at their gate, no revelation of the splendours of heaven or the anguish of hell will ever make them anything else.”11 [11 James Denney, The Way Everlasting (New York: Hodder & Stoughton, 1911), p. 171.]

Is it a pure coincidence that another of the Evangelists tells of a Lazarus who did come back from the dead? His restoration to life was certainly a very impressive sign, which strengthened the faith of those who already believed in Jesus or were disposed to

believe in him, but according to John it strengthened the determination of those who were convinced that the safety of the nation demanded Jesus’ death—indeed, they

“made plans to kill Lazarus as well, for on account of him many of the Jews were going over to Jesus and putting their faith in him” (Jn 12:10–11).

But by the time Luke wrote his Gospel one greater than Lazarus had risen from the dead. The proclamation that Christ had been raised “according to the Scriptures” (1

Cor 15:4) led many to believe in him, but it did not compel belief; even his resurrection did not convince those who had made up their minds not to believe.

17:6 How Much Faith Do We Need?

See comment on matthew 13:32; mark 5:34; 11:23.

17:19 How Much Faith Do We Need?

See comment on mark 5:34.

17:37 There the Eagles?

There is a slight difference between the two forms of this saying which does not appear in the English of the RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] : in Matthew 24:28 the Greek word translated “body” means specifically a dead body, whereas Luke uses the more general word for “body,” alive or dead, although in the present context a dead body is implied.

The saying gives the impression of being a proverbial utterance, applied (as proverbial utterances regularly are) to some appropriate situation. But are the birds of prey mentioned in the saying really eagles? Might we not have expected a reference to vultures? Yes indeed; but there are two points to be made.

First the Hebrew word normally translated “eagle” in the Old Testament appears occasionally to denote the vulture. “Make yourselves as bald as the eagle,” the people of Judah are told in Micah 1:16 (RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] ); but it is the vulture, not the eagle, that is bald (as translated in NIV [NIV New International Version] ). In those places where the Hebrew word for “eagle” seems to have the meaning “vulture,” it is the Greek word for “eagle” that is used in the Greek version of the Old Testament; so that for Matthew and Luke there was this precedent for the occasional use of the Greek word for “eagle” in the sense of “vulture.”

Next, even if (as is probable) the proverbial utterance referred originally to vultures, the change to “eagles” may have been made deliberately, if not in the Aramaic that Jesus spoke, then in the Greek version of his words on which the Gospels of Matthew and Luke drew. “Where there is a dead body, there the vultures will gather” means in effect “Where there is a situation ripe for judgment, there the judgment will fall.” But the situation in view in the context is the city of Jerusalem, doomed to destruction because of its unwillingness to pay heed to the message of peace that Jesus brought.

The executioners of this particular judgment were Roman legionary forces. The eagle was the standard of a Roman legion, and this may explain the choice of the word

“eagles” here.

T. W. Manson, who prefers the rendering “vultures” here and sees no reference to the Roman military eagles, thinks the point of the saying is the swiftness with which vultures discover the presence of carrion and flock to feast on it.12 [12 T. W. Manson, The Sayings of Jesus (1933; reprint, Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1979), p. 147.] So swiftly will the judgment fall

“on the day the Son of Man is revealed” (Lk 17:30).

In Luke’s account, but not in Matthew’s, the saying is Jesus’ reply to a question asked by the disciples. He has just told them how, on that day, the judgment will seize on one person and pass over another, separating two people asleep in the same bed or two women grinding at one mill (one of them turning the upper stone and the other pouring in the grain). “Where, Lord?” say the disciples—possibly meaning “Where will this judgment take place?” To this his answer is “Wherever there is a situation which calls for it.”

Among several instances of the kind of proverbial utterance illustrated by this saying special mention may be made of Job 39:27–30:

Is it at your command that the eagle mounts up and makes his nest on high?

On the rock he dwells and makes his home in the fastness of the rocky crag.

Thence he spies out the prey; his eyes behold it afar off.

His young ones suck up blood; and where the slain are, there is he. (KJV [KJV King James Version] )

18:8 Will the Son of Man Find Faith on Earth?

This is a hard saying in the sense that no one can be quite sure what it means, especially in relation to its context. When a question is asked in Greek, it is often possible to determine, from the presence of one particle or another, whether the answer expected is yes or no. But no such help is given with this one. Many commentators assume that the answer implied here is no, but in form at least it is a completely open question.

Luke is the only Evangelist who records the question, and he places it at the end of the parable of the persistent widow—the widow who refused to take no for an answer.

Jesus told this parable, says Luke, to teach his disciples that “they should always pray and not give up” (Lk 18:1). But what has this purpose to do with the Son of Man finding faith on earth when he comes?

The widow in the parable showed faith of an unusually persevering quality—not personal faith in the unjust judge whom she pestered until he granted her petition to keep her quiet, but faith in the efficacy of persistent “prayer.” The point of the story seems to be this: if even a conscienceless judge, who “neither feared God nor cared about men,” saw to it that a widow got her rights, not for the sake of seeing justice done but to get rest from her importunity, how much more will God, who is no unjust judge but a loving Father, listen to his children’s plea for vindication! It is vindication that they seek, just as the widow insisted on getting her rights, of which someone was trying to deprive her.

Then comes the question: “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

It is possible indeed that it is Luke who attaches the question to the parable, and that in Jesus’ teaching it had some other context which is no longer recoverable. T. W.

Manson leant to the view that “the Son of Man” does not bear its special meaning here—that the sense is “Men and women ought to have implicit faith that God will vindicate his elect people, that righteousness will triumph over evil. But when one comes and looks for such faith—when, for example, I come and look for it—is it anywhere to be found?” The answer implied by this interpretation is no—people in general, it is suggested, do not really expect God to vindicate his chosen ones, nor do they at heart desire the triumph of righteousness over evil.13 [13 T. W. Manson, The Sayings of Jesus (1933; reprint, Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1979), p. 308.]

But perhaps we should look at a wider context than this one parable. The coming of the Son of Man is a major theme in the preceding section of Luke’s record, in the discourse of Jesus about “the day when the Son of Man is revealed” (Lk 17:22–37).

The lesson impressed by this discourse on the hearers is that they must keep on the alert and be ready for that day when it comes. When it comes, God will vindicate his righteous cause and therewith the cause of his people who trust him. But they must trust him and not lose heart; they must here and now continue faithfully in the work assigned to them. (This is the lesson also of the parable of the pounds in Lk 19:11–27.) The Son of Man, whose revelation will be like the lightning, illuminating “the sky from one end to the other” (Lk 17:24), will be able to survey the earth to see if there is any faith on it, any “faithful and wise steward” whom his master when he comes will find loyally fulfilling his service (Lk 12:42–44 RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] ).

So the question “Will he find faith on earth?” remains open in fact as in form: its answer depends on the faithfulness of those who wait to render account of their stewardship when he calls for it.

18:19 Why Do You Call Me Good?

See comment on mark 10:18.

18:25 Easier for a Camel?

See comment on mark 10:25.

18:42 How Much Faith Do We Need?

See comment on mark 5:34.

19:30 How Many Mounts?

When we read the story about Palm Sunday in Luke (or in Mk 11:2), it is clear that the disciples are to find one animal, a donkey colt, and then bring it to Jesus to ride on.

However, when we turn to Matthew we read, “Go to the village ahead of you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there, with her colt by her. Untie them and bring them to me” (Mt 21:2). This sounds like more than one animal. How many animals were

there, and why does Matthew have two while Luke has one?

First, it is clear that we have understood Matthew correctly. Not only does the text say

“bring them” in Matthew 21:2, but it also says “the Lord needs them” in Matthew 21:3. And Matthew 21:7 reads, “They brought the donkey and the colt, placed their cloaks on them, and Jesus sat on them.” So Matthew clearly has two animals with Jesus sitting on both.

Second, it is clear that in Luke’s and Mark’s stories the text consistently reads it rather than them. Both of the stories indicate throughout that only one animal is involved.

Third, it is clear why Matthew includes the donkey as well as the colt. Only Matthew has the quotation from Zechariah 9:9:

This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet:

“Say to the Daughter of Zion,

‘See, your king comes to you,

gentle and riding on a donkey,

on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’” (Mt 21:4–5)

Both the donkey and the colt are mentioned in the Zechariah text, so Matthew includes the two animals to make the fulfillment of prophecy clear.

When we ask what actually happened, we are asking a question which would not concern the Gospel writers as much as it does us. They are sure they have conveyed the right interpretation of the event, which is more their interest than the bare facts.

We tend to be interested in history, so we come up with the following.

On the one hand, all three Gospel writers agree that Jesus rode on the colt, for they either name the colt (Matthew) or indicate that the animal had not yet been ridden (Mark and Luke), which could be the case with a colt but would hardly be the case with a mature donkey. On the other hand, it is clear that Matthew is allowing the prophetic passage to influence his story. The text in Matthew says that Jesus sat on

“them” (that is, the two animals). It is unlikely that Matthew wants us to take him literally, for how would one man sit on two animals? If he tried he would not look like a king, even a humble king, but like a clown. Matthew is underlining the fulfillment of prophecy by how he tells the story, allowing his reader’s good sense to fill in the exact form of the details.

Thus two answers to our question are possible. One answer would be that Matthew mentions the donkey, although she was not there, because clearly the colt was the foal of a donkey and by including the donkey the reference to the prophecy is brought out.

Another answer would be that given that the colt was young enough to have not been ridden, the donkey was in all likelihood there with it, perhaps still nursing it on occasion. If Mark and Luke know this, they are not interested in the fact. What they are interested in is the fact that Jesus actually wanted to ride the colt (perhaps showing the submission of an unbroken animal to the true Master). If the donkey was trailing along, it is no concern of theirs. Matthew because of his interest in prophecy does

mention the donkey, even if it makes the story read more awkwardly.

Whichever explanation one accepts, it is important not to miss the point that the three authors are making. Jesus, who owns no mount, has to borrow an animal to make his final self-presentation to Jerusalem. That the untried mount submits to him (Mark and Luke) and that prophecy is fulfilled (Matthew) are part of the picture that each author paints. Yet the focus is on the cries of “Hosanna” and the acclamation of Jesus as the one “coming in the name of the Lord,” phrases which the authors clearly interpret as a royal acclamation. We must be careful not to miss the king in the details of his entourage.

20:8 Neither Will I Tell You?

Why did Jesus refuse to give a straight answer to those who asked him why he acted as he did?

It was during Holy Week, while he was walking in the temple precincts in Jerusalem, that some representatives of the Sanhedrin, Israel’s supreme court (comprising chief priests, scribes, or teachers of the law, and elders, as we are told in Mk 11:27), came to Jesus and asked him, “By what authority are you doing these things? Who gave you this authority?” By “these things” they meant not so much his teaching in the outer court but his cleansing of the temple, which had taken place the previous day. What right had he to put a stop to buying and selling within the bounds of the temple, or to forbid anyone to carry anything through the temple—to use the outer court as a short cut on their business errands? Many religious people might have agreed with him that the sacred area should not be turned into a bazaar, but a temple police force was stationed to protect its sanctity. Who authorized Jesus to act as he did?

His cleansing of the temple was what would have been recognized in Old Testament times as a prophetic action—the kind of action by which a prophet would occasionally confirm his spoken message and bring it home to the people around him. Jesus protested that the temple was being prevented from fulfilling its purpose as “a house of prayer for all nations” (see Is 56:7). Gentiles were not allowed to enter the inner courts, but in the outer court they might draw near to the true and living God and worship him, like those “Greeks” who, according to John 12:20, went up to worship at Passover. Because of this the outer court was sometimes called “the court of the Gentiles.” But Gentiles were hindered in using it for its proper purpose if space within it was taken up by market stalls and the like. One of the latest Old Testament prophets had foretold how, when representatives of all the nations were to go up to Jerusalem to worship, “there shall no longer be a trader in the house of the Lord of hosts on that day” (Zech 14:21 RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] ). Jesus’ prophetic action was designed to enforce this lesson.

But by what authority did he perform such a prophetic action? By what authority did any of the ancient prophets perform prophetic actions? By the authority of God, in whose name they spoke to the people. So, when Jesus was asked, “Who gave you this authority?” the true answer was “God.” Why then did he not say so? Because his questioners would not have believed him. He tested them first with another question, to see if they were capable of recognizing divine authority when they saw it.

Reminding them of John the Baptist’s ministry, he asked them whether John’s authority was derived “from heaven [that is, from God] or from men.” This put them

on the spot: they argued with one another, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will ask,

‘Why didn’t you believe him?’ But if we say, ‘From men?’ all the people will stone us, because they are persuaded that John was a prophet” (Lk 20:6). Could they recognize divine authority when it was expressed in the actions and teaching of John? If so, they might be expected to recognize it when it was manifested in the deeds and words of Jesus. But they professed themselves unable to say what the source of John’s authority was. So Jesus said to them in effect, “If you cannot recognize divine authority when you see it in action, no amount of argument will convince you of its presence. If you cannot tell me by what authority John baptized, I will not tell you by what authority I do these things.” There are some people who will demand authority for truth itself, forgetting that truth is the highest authority.

20:25 Render to Caesar?

See comment on mark 12:17.

21:32 This Generation Will Not Pass Away?

See comment on mark 13:30.

22:19–20 This Is My Body and Blood?

See comment on mark 14:22–24.

22:36 Buy a Sword?

This is a hard saying in the sense that it is difficult to reconcile it with Jesus’ general teaching on violence: violence was not the course for his followers to take. It is widely held that this saying was not meant to be taken literally, but if not, how was it meant to be taken?

It occurs in Luke’s Gospel only. Luke reports it as part of a conversation between Jesus and his disciples at the Last Supper. Jesus reminds them of an earlier occasion when he sent them out on a missionary tour and told them not to take a purse (for money) or bag (for provisions) or sandals. Presumably, they could expect their needs to be supplied by well-disposed people along their route (Lk 10:4–7). But now things were going to be different: people would be reluctant to show them hospitality, for they might get into trouble for doing so. On that earlier occasion, as the disciples now agreed, they had lacked nothing. “But now,” said Jesus, “if you have a purse, take it, and also a bag”—they would have to fend for themselves. More than that, “if you don’t have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one.” If that is surprising, more surprising still is the reason he gives for this change of policy: “It is written: ‘And he was numbered with the transgressors’; and I tell you that this must be fulfilled in me.”

It is doubtful if the disciples followed his reasoning here, but they thought they had got the point about the sword. No need to worry about that: “See, Lord,” they said, “here are two swords.” To which he replied, “That is enough” or, perhaps, “Enough of this.”

Luke certainly does not intend his readers to understand the words literally. He goes

on to tell how, a few hours later, when Jesus was arrested, one of the disciples let fly with a sword—probably one of the two which they had produced at the supper table—

and cut off an ear of the high priest’s slave. But Jesus said, “No more of this!” and healed the man’s ear with a touch (Lk 22:49–51).

So what did he mean by his reference to selling one’s cloak to buy a sword? He himself was about to be condemned as a criminal, “numbered with the transgressors,” to use language applied to the Servant of the Lord in Isaiah 53:12. Those who until now had been his associates would find themselves treated as outlaws; they could no longer count on the charity of sympathetic fellow Israelites. Purse and bag would now be necessary. Josephus tells us that when Essenes went on a journey they had no need to take supplies with them, for they knew that their needs would be met by fellow members of their order; they did, however, carry arms to protect themselves against bandits.14 [14 Josephus Jewish War 2.125.]

But Jesus does not envisage bandits as the kind of people against whom his disciples would require protection; they themselves would be lumped together with bandits by the authorities, and they might as well act the part properly and carry arms, as bandits did. Taking him literally, the disciples revealed that they had anticipated his advice: they already had two swords. This incidentally shows how far they were from resembling a band of Zealot insurgents: such a band would have been much more adequately equipped. And the words with which Jesus concluded the conversation did not mean that two swords would be enough; they would have been ludicrously insufficient against the band that came to arrest him, armed with swords and clubs. He meant “Enough of this!”—they had misunderstood his sad irony, and it was time to drop the subject. T. W. Manson rendered the words “Well, well.” In contrast to the days when they had shared their Master’s popularity, “they are now surrounded by enemies so ruthless that the possession of two swords will not help the situation.”15 [15

T. W. Manson, Ethics and the Gospel (London: SPCK, 1960), p. 90.]

This text … has nothing to say directly on the question whether armed resistance to injustice and evil is ever justifiable. It is simply a vivid pictorial way of describing the complete change which has come about in the temper and attitude of the Jewish people since the days of the disciples’ mission. The disciples understood the saying literally and so missed the point; but that is no reason why we should follow their example.16 [16

T. W. Manson, The Sayings of Jesus (1933; reprint, Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1979), p. 341.]

22:67–70 You Will See the Son of Man?

See comment on mark 14:61–62.

23:38 What Was the Crime?

See comment on john 19:19.

23:43 Today in Paradise?

Jesus tells the thief on the cross, who has asked to be remembered by Jesus when Jesus receives his kingdom, that he would be in paradise with Jesus that very day. Yet was not Jesus in the tomb for three days? And does not the Bible teach that he went to

Hades between his death and resurrection? Didn’t he ascend to paradise only after the resurrection? If this is true, how could he make such a promise to the dying thief?

This question presupposes the answers to a number of questions. The first of these is, Where was Jesus between his death and resurrection? It is clear that his body was in the tomb. That is why all three Synoptic Gospels mention the witness to the burial (Mt 27:61; Mk 15:47; Lk 23:55). Matthew adds the story of the sealing of the tomb (Mt 27:62–65), letting us know that until the resurrection the tomb remained shut with the body inside. However, this says nothing about Jesus’ spirit. When Paul contemplates death in Philippians 1 or 2 Corinthians 5, he speaks of his immediate presence after death before Christ (for Paul the important thing is not being in heaven, but being with Jesus, so that is where he puts his stress). He witnesses to the Christian and late Jewish belief that the spirit or soul of a person has conscious existence somewhere between the person’s death and their resurrection. Thus what Jesus is talking about is where his spirit and the spirit of the thief were to be.

Some Christian traditions have believed that Jesus’ spirit was in Hades (or hell) between his death and resurrection. This idea is based on 1 Peter 3:19 (and possibly 1

Pet 4:6) and Ephesians 4:4. However, such an interpretation is not supported by these texts. While the Ephesians 4:9 text in the KJV [KJV King James Version] seemed to say that Jesus descended into the lower regions of the earth (which could be Hades), in the NIV [NIV New International Version] we read the better translation: “the lower, earthly regions.” That is, this passage speaks of Jesus’ descent from heaven to earth, his incarnation, not his location after death. The 1 Peter passage does speak of something happening after Jesus was executed, but it does not tell us (1) what the spirits are which are in prison, (2) where the prison is, (3) when this event took place (other than after his death) or (4) how long it took. Let it suffice here to indicate that (1) in my view the spirits are not the spiritual part of dead humans, but the fallen angels of Genesis 6 (contrary to comment on Gen 6:4), (2) the prison could be located below the earth, but there is also a Jewish tradition that locates it in the second heaven, (3) the event may have taken place before his resurrection or it may have been part of Jesus’ ascension, and (4) we have no idea if it took more time than a single trumpeting announcement of his triumph, which could have taken a minute or less. Assigning any length of time to this event is pure speculation. (The preaching of the gospel to those now dead, 1 Pet 4:6, probably does not indicate an action of Jesus, but the preaching of the gospel to people who believed and then died, but who still have the same hope as the living Christians Peter is writing to.) My conclusion is that there is no reason to believe that Jesus actually spent any significant length of time in Hades or hell or wherever the “prison” was. If it was a preresurrection trip, it did not necessarily take a lot of time.

The second of the assumptions is that paradise is another name for heaven and Jesus was not in heaven until his ascension. The first part of this assumption is probably true.

While “paradise” is actually a Persian term adopted by the Jews to indicate the Garden of Genesis 2, in the New Testament it means something more than this. In 2

Corinthians 12:2–4 it indicates a place that Paul was “caught up” to, also identified as the “third heaven” (which is the abode of God, the first two being the place of the birds and the place of the stars). This impression is confirmed by Revelation 2:7. So we are on firm ground in that part of the assumption. Jesus is promising to be in heaven with the thief on that day.

The second part of this assumption is not true. The only verse that could indicate that

Jesus was not in heaven until after the resurrection is John 20:17, but there the issue is one of not holding on to Jesus physically because he has not yet ascended to the Father. His physical absence from the earth was necessary for the sending of the Spirit (Jn 16:7). He is now physically present, and Mary must not hold on to him to keep him from leaving. This passage says nothing about where the spirit of Jesus was between his death and resurrection.

My conclusion, then, is that there is only one passage that tells us whether or not Jesus was in heaven at some point between his death and resurrection, and that is the passage we are discussing. Jesus promised that both he and the thief would be together in paradise, which is heaven, on the day they died (“day” probably indicating “when we die” rather than the precise Jewish or Roman period of time, although all of the traditions place both of their deaths before the end of the Jewish day on which they were crucified). If Jesus was correct, he may have made a proclamation in a “prison”

on the way (or that proclamation may have taken place later, at his ascension), but that would be where he apparently spent most of the time between his death and resurrection. If he was correct, it also explains his final words in Luke, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit,” (Lk 23:46) for he was going to his Father at his death.

His work was complete; he did not have any major work to do between his death and resurrection. Of course, if Jesus was not correct, we have only theological speculation to rely on for where Jesus was during this period of time, for there is no way to test this claim without investigating the place itself. What is certain is that the Gospel writers assume that he was correct about such matters.

When Jesus makes this promise to the thief, it does more than simply comfort the dying man and promise him the reward of faith. What it does is to announce the completion of salvation. Salvation was completed at the cross. There were no more battles for Jesus to fight. Satan had met his match at the cross. The victor, Jesus, could proceed to heaven and there await the resurrection, when his triumph would be made known to the whole world.

See also comment on 1 peter 3:19.

24:10 What Happened at the Resurrection?

See comment on john 20:1–8.

John

1:1 One God or Three?

How can there be a Trinity when the Old Testament insists there is only one God? If the Old Testament is right, how can John assert that the Word (later identified with Jesus) is God? Does this mean that the one God became a human being and so all of God was on earth? Does it imply there are two (or, with the Holy Spirit, three) Gods?

Or are the Jehovah’s Witnesses correct that Jesus really is not God? What does the teaching of the Trinity imply anyway?

This question calls for such a profound answer that books have been written on the

topic. We can attempt to look only briefly at what the Bible says on this topic.

First, the question is quite right in implying that the Old Testament teaches that there is only one God or, better, that God is one. We need only look at Deuteronomy 6:4,

“Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.” What is more, the New Testament also affirms the same doctrine. For example, James 2:19 reads, “You believe that there is one God. Good!” As in Deuteronomy, an even better translation would be, “You believe that God is one.” The unity of God and the fact that there are no other gods besides him are foundational doctrines of the Bible (See Mk 12:29; Jn 5:44; Rom 3:30; 1 Cor 8:4, 6; Gal 3:20; Eph 4:6).

Second, the New Testament also teaches that Jesus was divine. This verse is only one of several verses indicating this fact (see also Phil 2:6; Tit 2:13; Heb 1:3 for a few examples of other verses pointing in this direction). Naturally, groups like the Jehovah’s Witnesses dispute such verses. For example, they point out that a literal translation of the last phrase of John 1:1 reads, “God was the Word.” There is no definite article (the) with God, and in such cases this sometimes implies an indefinite article (a), and so they translate “The Word was a god.” This translation, however, is itself problematic. First, God often functions as a proper name, and when a proper name has been used once in a context (so that one knows which Peter or John or whoever one is talking about), it can be used other times without the definite article.

Second, sentences with the verb “to be” in them (in this case, “was”) do not have a subject and an object, but a subject and a predicate noun or predicate adjective. In English subject and object are differentiated by word order. “Jim hit John” means Jim is the subject and John the object. Reverse the word order and Jim and John would reverse roles. In Greek you do this by special endings on the words. In that way you can, for example, place the object first if you want to emphasize it. Now if you have a sentence with a predicate noun, your endings will be the same. Yet you can indicate which is which by using the definite article with the subject and omitting it with the predicate noun. Thus the sentence would read, “The Word was God,” with God being emphasized.

Finally, another reason to omit the article is if the noun is functioning as a predicate adjective, giving a quality of the subject. That is probably John’s main reason for not including it here (although all three reasons may be true). That is, John is quite aware that the Word was not all of God. The Father still existed separately after the Word became flesh (Jn 1:14). Thus, “The Word was God” could be misleading; it could imply that all of God had become incarnate in Jesus. The omission of the article makes this verse mean “The Word was divine” or “What God was the Word was.” In other words, the text is indicating that the Word had all of the qualities of God, but this text is also indicating that not all of God was in the Word. The Jehovah’s Witnesses ignore all of these three reasons, and instead use simplistic grammatical explanations to try to make the sentence mean what they wish it to mean.

We are left with the question as to whether there are not three Gods. The answer is that the New Testament does not give us an explanation, but does give us the data which was later used to make an explanation of how there can be three beings but not more than one God. As we pointed out above, the New Testament makes clear that there is only one God. “God is one” is “bottom line” New Testament teaching, just as it is also true in the Old Testament. The New Testament also makes clear that Jesus (and also the Holy Spirit) is God. Well, then, perhaps all of God became incarnate in Jesus? This teaching, later called patripassionism, would solve our problem, but will

not fit the New Testament data. Jesus is constantly distinguishing himself from the Father. For example, in John 11:41–43, he thanks the Father that he has heard him and then goes on to speak of the Father’s sending him. This is part of an ongoing dialogue between the Father and the Son. There is a constant discussion about the Son and the Father which makes them equal, but at the same time distinguishes them (see Jn 5:16–

23). Thus the Father did not become incarnate in Jesus. This is the data which the New Testament gives us (and we can find it outside of John as well), but it does not tell us how to explain this data. It offers facts, not a theory to explain the facts.

The church fathers and mothers had to deal with these facts: God is one; Jesus is God; Jesus and the Father are not the same (and then that the Holy Spirit is also God and he is not the same as either the Father or the Son). The way that they put these truths together was through the doctrine of the Trinity. The actual word appears to have been coined about a.d. 200 by Tertullian, but it would take more than another 150 years to fully define the doctrine. This explanation depended on the ability of Greek philosophy to separate being (substance) from person. Thus they argued that there were three persons and yet only one being, one substance. The closest analogy which we might find in human existence would be instances of true multiple personality, except that because they all have to use the same limited human body only one personality can appear to the world at any given time.

One does not need to hold the explanation with its Greek philosophical assumptions to hold the truth of Scripture, although we know of no better explanation. The fact is that the Scripture asserts that God is one, Jesus is God, and that Jesus and the Father are separate conscious centers. The Father can send the Son and the two of them can dialogue together. At its core this teaching is a mystery, so all human explanations (including the doctrine of the Trinity) are only more or less crude human attempts to come to terms with a divine reality that is beyond us. The doctrine points to a transcendent God who could yet simultaneously become a human being and then after the resurrection also indwell other human beings (that is, the Holy Spirit). He is a God great enough to rule the universe, caring enough to live a fully human life and intimate enough to live in each believer. This is the reality that the doctrine points to. This is the truth that John teaches. Try as we like, we will never understand this divine depth, yet we can still enjoy the reality of God being with us that the doctrine points to.

See also comment on isaiah 63:10–11.

1:18 No One Has Ever Seen God?

This verse is clearly saying that no one has ever seen God, but in Exodus 33:20 we read, “You cannot see my face … and live,” and in Exodus 24:11, “They saw God, and they ate and drank.” How can John claim that no one has ever seen God when the Old Testament text indicates that people did see God on at least two occasions?

First, notice that even the Old Testament indicates that no one has seen the face of God: “You cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live” (Ex 33:20). It is in this context that the two theophanies occur. In the earlier theophany it appears that what the elders see is “a pavement made of sapphire” (which will appear again in the early chapters of Ezekiel as the floor of the divine chariot). No form is seen, although they may have had some awareness of a Being above the pavement. In this sense they

“saw God” but apparently did not see his “face.” In the later theophany Moses asks to

see God’s “glory” (Ex 33:18). In the view of the author of Exodus, he is asking for more than what he saw along with the elders of Israel. God grants more, but not all that Moses asks for. The only experience God will allow is for Moses to be hidden while God passes by and declares his character audibly; then Moses will get to see God’s “back,” which some commentators identify with an “afterglow,” but which could mean the back side of a retreating form (in Near Eastern fashion this would be shrouded with clothing so only an outline would be visible). Even this experience is so powerful that Moses’ face glows afterward (Ex 34:29).

John is clearly contrasting Jesus with Moses (Jn 1:17; Moses’ theophany was at the giving of the law), but even later theophanies in the Old Testament do not contradict our observation. Isaiah has some awareness of a throne and a being on it, but the only things that he can describe are the hem of God’s “robe” and the seraphim who are associated with him (Is 6:1–5). Ezekiel in a vision sees a form on a throne (Ezek 1:26–

28), but there is no face and no features, only burning fire in a vaguely human shape.

The face of God is never seen.

Now we can understand what John is saying. The Word is with God (Jn 1:1), and the image implied in the preposition is the face-to-face position of equals. What is more, the Word is what God is (as we noted in the previous chapter). Now the Word becomes a human being (“flesh,” Jn 1:14), and he has a “glory” or character or reputation which is that of one who is exactly like his Father, full of grace and truth (which are Greek equivalents of “love and faithfulness” of Ex 34:6). So Moses brought law from God (Jn 1:17), but Jesus brought the very character of the Father to us. Thus while no one has ever seen God, Jesus makes him known with an accuracy brought about by his being in the most intimate contact with him (“at the Father’s side” in the NIV [NIV New International Version] or, better, “in the bosom of the Father” [RSV

[RSV Revised Standard Version] ]). They may have seen a form or outline in the Old Testament, but Jesus, the Word incarnate, has not only seen the Father face to face, but has also looked into his soul and contains within himself his very character.

This is an important theological point. Ever since Marcion in the second century there have been those who contrast the distant and harsh Father with the gracious and kind Son. The Father seems to be law and the Son grace. The Father seems to be difficult or impossible to relate to, apparently existing without feeling, and the Son seems to be caring and even warm and friendly. This contrast is entirely false. What John is saying is that if we want to find out what the Father is like, we only have to look at the Son.

The “love and faithfulness” we see in Jesus is the “love and faithfulness” of the Father.

The kindness we see in Jesus is the kindness of the Father. The healing we seen in Jesus is his doing the works of the Father (Jn 5:19). In sum, Jesus is the place where we get our best view of the face of the Father; in Jesus we can see what the Father’s heart is really like. When this truth sinks into our heart, many of us will receive a renewed vision of the Father and thus develop a new love for and intimacy with God.

See also comment on exodus 24:9–11; 33:18–23; john 1:1.

1:25 What Was John’s Baptism?

See comment on mark 1:4.

1:51 Angels Ascending and Descending?

What is meant by the angels “ascending and descending on the Son of Man”?

Nathanael was not talking about angels, although he had been convinced by Jesus’

prophetic insight into his life that Jesus was indeed the Messiah. Now Jesus responds to him, saying in effect, “You haven’t seen anything yet!” He goes on to describe the experience we find in this verse. What does it mean to see heaven open? And why would it be significant to see angels of God “ascending and descending” on Jesus? In fact, does it not seem strange to talk about such beings coming down on top of a human being like Jesus?

It is obvious that there is a change of audience in John 1:51. Up until this time Jesus has been addressing Nathanael, and the pronoun you is singular. In this verse Jesus speaks “to him” (singular) and says, “I tell you (plural) … you (plural) shall see … ” In other words, within the verse the focus shifts from Nathanael to the whole group of disciples. Jesus is broadening his audience. It is not just Nathanael who will have this experience, but the whole group of at least four of them.

What is it that the whole group will experience? The reference to angels of God ascending and descending is probably a reference to Genesis 28:12: “He had a dream in which he saw a stairway resting on the earth, with its top reaching to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it.” The difference between “on it” and “on him” (underlying John’s “on the Son of Man”) is not significant in that the Hebrew could be translated both ways. In fact, in later Jewish literature there is a discussion between Rabbi Hiyya and Rabbi Yannai on this very point ( Genesis Rabbah 69.3 on Gen 28:12).

John’s reference is wider than simply Genesis 28, for he also uses the phrase “you shall see heaven open,” which suggests the descent of the Spirit at Jesus’ baptism (Mk 1:10).

So what we have here is a complex picture. Heaven is open; there is a way from heaven, the presence of the Father, to earth. That way ends in or on the Son of Man, or Jesus. As Jacob comments in Genesis 28:17, “This is the gate of heaven.” All of this is said in a context of seeing greater things than simply a prophetic word from Jesus, which is what Nathanael had already received.

There is no place in John in which the disciples see literal angels moving between heaven and earth, or heaven and Jesus. However, angels are those who bring the divine presence and so are the divine intermediaries. So the question becomes, “Where in the Gospel of John do we see the divine presence revealed to the disciples?” The answer comes quite quickly: in the next chapter.

In John 2:11 we read, “This, the first of his miraculous signs, Jesus performed at Cana in Galilee. He thus revealed his glory, and his disciples put their faith in him.” In the miracle of turning the water into wine the disciples saw Jesus’ “glory” revealed. This resulted in faith. What was Jesus’ glory? John has already answered that question in John 1:14–18: “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. … No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only, who is at the Father’s side, has made him known.” John is saying that the “glory” or reputation that belongs to the Father is seen in Jesus. We could put it that Jesus is the window through

which one sees the Father.

Jacob at Bethel sees a stairway to heaven and experiences the presence of God. The disciples during Jesus’ life did not literally see a stairway to heaven, but they did experience the presence of God and commerce between heaven and earth. They had this experience when they observed the signs which Jesus performed and saw his

“glory,” which was the “glory” of the Father. Nathanael had believed because of a prophetic word given by Jesus. Both he and the other disciples would experience more than this: they would experience Jesus as the “gate of heaven,” the place where the presence of the Father in heaven was expressed on earth. They saw this in the signs which Jesus worked, and they responded with commitment (faith).

John picks up this theme in John 14:12, when he indicates that the presence of the Spirit in the believer will make him or her into one who can be even more of a window into heaven, the topic of another chapter. At this point what we notice is that Jesus is the point of contact between God and the world. In him there is traffic between heaven and earth. That traffic is seen in his signs in which the presence of the glory of the Father in him shines through. This, John is saying, calls for belief. Nathanael committed himself to Jesus on the basis of what he had; we have far more basis for committing ourselves than he did.

3:5 Born of Water and the Spirit?

What does it mean to be born of “water and the Spirit”? When Jesus speaks to Nicodemus, he first speaks about being “born again.” Nicodemus does not understand, so Jesus explains the issue to him in this verse. However, the meaning of this verse is obscure to us. There have been several attempts to explain it, and the most common are these:

1. Water means natural birth and Spirit indicates spiritual birth.

2. Water and Spirit together indicate a cleansing and spiritual renewal.

3. Water is the baptism of John and Spirit is what comes with Jesus.

4. Water indicates the outward part of Christian baptism and Spirit the inward part.

In order to decide among these interpretations and understand this verse, we need to drop back to John 3:3, where Jesus told Nicodemus that no one could “see the kingdom of God” without being “born again.” The Greek term translated “again” has two possible meanings: “from above” and “again.” In John 3:4 Nicodemus assumed the “again” meaning and found it incomprehensible. He pictured himself as a grown man trying to get back into his mother. In this verse Jesus restates himself, making it clear that what he meant was not “again” but “born from above.” He does this by paralleling “born from above/again” with “born of water and Spirit/spirit.” (We will use “Spirit/spirit” because the Greek word could mean the Holy Spirit or spirit in some other sense, such as the human spirit.) Both “born from above” and “born of water and Spirit/spirit” lead to the kingdom of God and therefore they are two ways of saying the same thing. Notice that “water and Spirit/spirit” in this verse is not two items but one, for in Greek one article governs the two words, indicating that only one concept is being thought about. What does Jesus mean by this one concept?

The first interpretation is that Jesus means physical birth (born of water) and spiritual birth (born of Spirit), the water image for physical birth coming from the amniotic fluid surrounding the baby. However, it is clear that Jesus expects Nicodemus to understand this image and also clear that Jewish sources do not use water as an image for birth, at least not until centuries later than Jesus. Furthermore, we noted above that the grammar indicates that these two are thought of as one item, not two. Therefore it could not be two separate births that Jesus is speaking about. We must reject this interpretation.

Moving on to the second proposal, Jesus certainly knew that Nicodemus was quite knowledgeable about the Old Testament. Thus this interpretation is more likely because it sees in this verse an allusion to Ezekiel 36:25–27. We see that in the Ezekiel passage the cleansing image of water is combined with the giving of God’s Spirit for the renewal of the people. Of course, there are other passages in the Old Testament which also refer to the Spirit using water imagery, such as the Spirit being “poured out” upon people. We are not depending on a single reference for our argument, but Ezekiel gives us the most explicit association of Spirit and water. Furthermore, the association of Spirit with birth is clear enough in that it is when God’s Spirit or breath (in Hebrew the same word means “spirit,” “wind” and “breath”; in Greek “spirit” and

“wind” are two meanings of the same word) comes into Adam that he becomes a living being (Gen 2:7). This is not literally a birth (no woman was involved), but the parallel is close enough, for it is when the man came alive.

What we understand Jesus to be saying, then, is that one must receive the cleansing and spiritual renewal that comes from God. At this stage he may be alluding to the later coming of the Holy Spirit, but Nicodemus would know nothing about that. What Nicodemus is being instructed about is the cleansing from sin and spiritual renewal that come through Jesus, the One from above.

What, then, about the interpretations which refer the phrase to baptism? In John 3:25–

30 there is a discussion about baptism. We discover that Jesus was baptizing people as John the Baptist had done, although he did not do this personally. Could there be a reference to John’s baptism or Christian baptism here? The answer to this is that while such a reference is unlikely if baptism and Spirit are thought of as separate (remember, the grammar indicates that water and Spirit are one item), there may be a reference to the baptism that John and (later) Jesus and his disciples were doing if it is thought of as one with Jesus. That is, if the repentance and cleansing from sin were thought of as one with spiritual renewal rather than as a first step. It is possible that Nicodemus might have understood this, but it would be secondary to the scriptural image from Ezekiel. What was going on in John’s baptism was Ezekiel “put into action” when combined with Jesus, the One to whom John pointed.

What about Christian baptism? In writing his Gospel John is surely aware of Christian baptismal practice. In those days if one wanted to become a Christian, what one was instructed to do was not to say a “sinner’s prayer” or sign a “decision card” but to be baptized. It was in baptism that one took the vow to turn from sin and follow Jesus. It was also likely that at baptism the newly baptized person was prayed for to receive the Spirit. At the least, baptism signified a new life, a life from above, and thus a new birth.

But of course Nicodemus would have no way of knowing this, so this would not have been what Jesus was trying to tell him. Yet John, knowing the practice of the church as he did, surely saw this as a further meaning in the words of Jesus.

5:28–29 Salvation by Works?

In John 5:28–29 Jesus is in a debate with the Judean Jews, talking about the authority of the Son of Man to command the resurrection of the dead. He then adds a comment that refers to the two classes of resurrected people, not as believers and unbelievers, but as “those who have done good” and “those who have done evil.” Does not this indicate that eternal life is given on the basis of one’s deeds? Is this not the very salvation by works that Luther and the other Reformers were so much against?

The first point that we should notice about this verse is that Jesus is indeed in a debate with a group of Jews, who were questioning his authority to heal a person on the sabbath. His central point is that his authority is far greater than that needed to set aside the sabbath. The healing was simply a sign of a more significant authority than they had yet seen: it is Jesus they will meet on the final judgment day! We must keep that point in mind, for the issues of faith and works are here actually peripheral to the main point Jesus is making.

Second, in saying what he says, Jesus is saying the same thing as any good rabbi of his time would say. Some of the dead were called righteous, for they had done good, and some of the dead were called unrighteous, for they had done evil. The resurrection was a time when God would set right the accounts, rewarding the righteous with “the age to come” (to use the rabbinic phrase) and barring the unrighteous from that happy kingdom. Thus what Jesus said would not have raised an eyebrow among the Jews.

They knew that those who truly loved God obeyed the law and thus did good, while those who rejected God disobeyed the law and thus did evil.

However, third, Jesus is saying something much more profound than this. In John 5

Jesus has made it clear that the resurrection to life at the end of time is simply the logical conclusion of what Jesus is doing now, for after telling them that the Father has given him authority to raise the dead, Jesus adds, “I tell you the truth, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life and will not be condemned; he has crossed over from death to life” (Jn 5:24). In other words, Jesus is able to grant eternal life now, so his resurrecting people at the end of the age is simply an extension into the physical world of what he has already done in the present in the spiritual world. Notice that the only criteria for gaining eternal life now is “hears my word and believes him who sent me.” Of course, this “hearing” means not simply to listen to, but also to accept and submit to the teaching of Jesus. One who does this is in fact believing “on him who sent me,” for Jesus makes it clear that to reject him is to reject his Father.

What is said here about how one gains eternal life has already been said in John 3:17–

21. In that section we discover that those whose deeds are evil reject Jesus, while those whose deeds are good “come into the light.” Yet what leads to condemnation or salvation is whether or not one “believes in” him (“believes in” could better be translated “entrusts oneself to” or “commits oneself to,” for it is not mental assent to certain doctrines that is being talked about). In John 6:28–29 Jesus amplifies what he has said on the other two occasions. The works of God are defined as a single work: to believe in Jesus. If we accept this definition, we see that those whose deeds were evil would be those who rejected Jesus and those whose deeds were good would be those who accepted Jesus. One’s attitude toward Jesus becomes the central criterion of

whether one is good or evil.

Yet this is not to say that behavior is totally separated from salvation. Jesus is also the one who said, “If you love me, keep my commandments” (Jn 14:15 KJV [KJV King James Version] ). In other words, saying that one is committed to Jesus (or believes in Jesus, to use the traditional language) without actually obeying Jesus is so much useless hot air. It is the heart that counts, and the heart is seen in one’s actions. This is why 1 John will say that those who love Jesus will not continue to sin (see 1 Jn 3:6, 9).

Real love, real faith leads to a life that shows it. Yet the life is the result of commitment, the result of eternal life residing in the person, not the cause of it.

So is John teaching salvation by works? The answer is no. That is, not unless committing oneself to Jesus is the work that one is talking about. Those who do good are those who believe on Jesus (and probably also, in Jesus’ mind, those who accepted God’s previous revelation and died before Jesus came); those who do evil are those who reject Jesus. This underlines that Jesus is the source of eternal life now, as well as the Judge at the end of time. Indeed, we could picture judgment day as Jesus calling out for all the dead to rise. Some rise and come toward him, drawn by their previous commitment to him. Others rise and turn away, for they have rejected that voice and in that sense are judged already. The one group comes to him who is life itself. The others reject life and thus choose death. What makes all of the difference is not whether one has sinned this or that sin, but whether one has committed oneself to Jesus.

See also comment on james 2:24; 1 john 3:9; 3 john 11.

6:53 Eating the Flesh, Drinking the Blood?

This was the original hard saying: as John reports, “On hearing it, many of his disciples said, ‘This is a hard teaching; who can accept it?’” (Jn 6:60). The implication is that they not only found it difficult to understand, but suspected that, if they did understand it, they would find it unacceptable. The NEB [NEB New English Bible] expresses a different nuance with its rendering: “This is more than we can stomach! Why listen to such talk?” That implies that they thought Jesus was talking nonsense, and that it was a waste of time listening to it; but that is probably not what John means.

The feeding of the five thousand is one of the few incidents in the ministry of Jesus recorded by all four Evangelists. The narrative of Mark 6:31–52 (including the sequel in which Jesus came walking to his disciples across the water) is reproduced substantially in Matthew 14:13–33 and (without the walking on the water) in Luke 9:10–17. John tells the story independently (together with the walking on the water) in John 6:1–21.

In the Synoptic Gospels we get the impression that there was more in the feeding of the multitude than met the eye at the time or meets the reader’s eye today. Mark in particular makes it plain that the feeding was intended to teach the disciples a lesson which they failed to learn, and that Jesus was surprised at their failure. When Jesus had joined them in the boat on their way back to the other side of the lake of Galilee, and the strong head wind which had made progress so difficult for them stopped blowing, then, says Mark, “they were completely amazed, for they had not understood about the loaves; their hearts were hardened” (Mk 6:51–52). “Their hearts were hardened”

means “their minds were closed,” as the NEB [NEB New English Bible] puts it: they were too obtuse to take the lesson in, and the lesson evidently had something to do with the person of their Master.

But the further meaning which lies beneath the surface of the Synoptic record is brought up above the surface by John and spelled out in detail. He does this in the form of an address given by Jesus shortly afterward in the synagogue at Capernaum.

The subject of the discourse is the bread of life. It has been suggested that on that sabbath day one of the Scripture lessons in the synagogue was Exodus 16:13–36 or Numbers 11:4–9, which tell of the manna, the bread from heaven with which the Israelites were fed during their wilderness wanderings. At any rate, this is the subject with which the address begins.

The manna that their ancestors ate in the wilderness, Jesus tells his hearers, was not the food of immortality: those who ate it died nevertheless—some sooner, some later.

Similarly, the bread with which he had recently fed the multitude was but material bread. They wished to make him their leader because he had given them that bread, but really he had come to give them better bread than that. Just as he had offered the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well better water than that in the well, the eternally satisfying water of life, so now he offers these Galileans better bread than the loaves with which the five thousand had been fed, better bread even than the manna which their forefathers had eaten, “food that endures to eternal life” (Jn 6:27). The manna might be called bread from heaven, even the bread of God; but the true “bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world” (Jn 6:33). Not only so, but God has one authorized and certified agent to bestow this life-giving bread—the Son of Man, Jesus himself. So far, so good; as the Samaritan woman, hearing of the water of life, said, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty” (Jn 4:15), so now Jesus’ present hearers say, “Sir, from now on give us this bread.”

This sets the stage for the next step of the lesson. Jesus not only gives the bread of life; he is the bread of life. True life, eternal life, is to be had in him alone: “he who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty” (Jn 6:35).

Indeed, not only will those who come to him in faith find in him perpetual sustenance and refreshment for their souls’ hunger and thirst; they will never die. “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever.

This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world” (Jn 6:51).

Now the lesson really begins to be hard. Anyone who has the advantage of reading these words in the context of the whole Gospel of John knows what their purport is.

To believe in Christ is not only to give credence to what he says: it is to be united to him by faith, to participate in his life. Up to a point, his words about giving his flesh for the life of the world are paralleled in Mark 10:45, where he speaks of the Son of Man as coming “to give his life as a ransom for many.” In the language Jesus spoke “my flesh” could be another way of saying “myself”: he himself is the bread given for the life of the world. But the saying in Mark 10:45 makes no reference to the Son of Man as food for the souls of the “many”; this is an additional emphasis, and one which leaves the synagogue congregation out of its depth.

On the lips of people who felt out of their depth, the question “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” (Jn 6:52) was a natural one. But it is John’s practice when recording Jesus’ discourses or conversations to quote words which have a spiritual meaning and then make the hearers show by their response that they have failed to

grasp that meaning; Jesus is thus given an opportunity to repeat his words more fully.

So here he repeats himself more fully in reply to the congregation’s bewilderment:

“Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is real food, and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in him” (Jn 6:54–56).

What could he mean? Plainly his language was not to be taken literally: he was not advocating cannibalism. But how was it to be taken? It was not only obscure, they thought: it was offensive. For Jews the drinking of any blood, even the eating of flesh from which the blood had not been completely drained, was taboo. But drinking the blood of a human being was an idea which ought not even to be mentioned. This was a hard saying in more senses than one.

Jesus answered their protest by pointing out that his words were to be understood spiritually. “It is the spirit that gives life, the flesh is of no avail” (Jn 6:63 RSV [RSV

Revised Standard Version] ). The physical or literal meaning of the words was plainly ruled out. But what was the spiritual meaning?

Again the reader of this Gospel, viewing these words in the context of the whole work, has an advantage over the first hearers, who had no such explanatory context. What we have in Jesus’ strange language is a powerful metaphor stating that a share in the life of God, eternal life, is granted to those who in faith come to Jesus, appropriate him, enter into union with him. Let us hear two doctors of the church: Augustine of Hippo (at the end of the fourth century) and Bernard of Clairvaux (twelfth century).

The hard saying cannot be taken literally, says Augustine, since it would seem to be enjoining a crime or a vice: “it is therefore a figure, bidding us communicate in the sufferings of our Lord, and secretly and profitably treasure in our hearts the fact that his flesh was crucified and pierced for us.”1 [1 Augustine On Christian Doctrine 3.16.] Elsewhere he sums the matter up in an epigram: Crede et manducasti, “Believe, and thou hast eaten.”2 [2 Augustine Homilies on John 26.1.]

Bernard expounds the words “he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life” as meaning “he who reflects on my death, and after my example mortifies his members which are on earth, has eternal life—in other words, ‘If you suffer with me, you will also reign with me.’”3 [3 Bernard The Love of God 4.11.]

The question is naturally raised: What relation do these words of Jesus bear to the Communion service, in which believers receive bread and wine as tokens of the body and blood of the Lord? Since John, unlike the other Evangelists, does not record the institution of the Lord’s Supper, it could be said that this discourse represents his counterpart to their accounts of what Jesus did and said in the upper room when he gave his disciples the bread and the cup (see comment on Mk 14:22–24). In the discourse of John 6 Jesus is not making a direct reference to Holy Communion, but this discourse conveys the same truth in words as Holy Communion conveys in action.

This truth is summed up in the invitation extended to the communicant in the Book of Common Prayer: “Take and eat this in remembrance that Christ died for thee, and feed on him in thy heart by faith with thanksgiving.” To feed on Christ in one’s heart by faith with thanksgiving is to “eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood” and so have eternal life.

10:34–35 You Are Gods?

See comment on psalm 82:1.

12:39–40 God Blinded Their Eyes?

See comment on mark 4:11–12.

14:6 No One Saved Without Jesus?

When we read John 14:6, it sounds like a very exclusive statement. “No one comes to the Father except through me.” Does this statement mean what it seems to imply, that no one can be saved without Jesus? What about those who lived before Jesus? Are they all damned? This verse appears so out of place in our tolerant society in which we have learned to respect the beliefs of others.

John 14:6 is one of those verses that are difficult not because we do not understand them but because we understand them all too well. It is the central verse of the whole section, John 14:1–11. It builds on the question of Thomas in the previous verse:

“Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?” Jesus has told his disciples that he is going to his Father’s house to prepare a place for them.

Thomas is concerned about how they will get there to be with Jesus. This verse is Jesus’ answer. It is followed by a discussion of who the Father is.

In this verse Jesus speaks of himself as “the way, the truth and the life” (KJV [KJV

King James Version] ). The emphasis is clearly on “the way,” for that is the question that Thomas was asking. Jesus does not show or teach about the way; he is the way to the Father’s house. He is the way, of course, because he is also the truth (a term found twenty-one times in John, beginning with the Logos passage [Jn 1:14, 17]) and the life (found thirty-nine times in John, beginning with Jn 1:4, but especially important in Jn 5:21–29 with reference to raising the dead). The concept of truth is what will lead us forward into the next section of the chapter, for it is his being full of grace and truth (Jn 1:14) that is connected to his being the full revelation of the Father on earth.

Why did John, who admits that he had much more material than he included in his Gospel, put this material into his book? First, John includes a lot of discussion between Jesus and the Jews. The issue is whether Jesus is the fulfillment of the Old Testament hopes or not. Jesus in the Gospel consistently indicates that he is that fulfillment and that he supersedes Jewish expressions of worship (for example, Jn 2:13–22, in which it is his body which is the true temple, and Jn 4:21–26, in which the presence of the Messiah, Jesus, makes both Jerusalem and Gerazim irrelevant). Thus John surely interprets this saying as indicating that the old ways of Jewish worship, good as they were (“salvation is from the Jews”) will no longer do. A new era has dawned in Jesus and the way of salvation and life is through him.

Second, this Gospel was written in a Gentile-dominated world. In that world there were many cults offering salvation and many saviors associated with those cults. Also part of that world was the idea that one need not be totally committed to any one cult.

One “worshiped” the Roman deities, of course, for it was one’s patriotic duty, much as Americans honor the American flag. And then there were the deities of one’s city, trade guild (if one were an artisan) and clan. The various mystery religions and exotic

cults (many of them with Eastern roots) were on top of all of this. In the Greco-Roman world there were many “ways,” and while one selected what one felt was the best way, one also tried to keep all of the deities happy. It is obvious that Jesus’ words in such a world are quite exclusive. There are no other ways to the Father, there is no other source of real life, there is no alternative source of truth. Jesus is the Logos incarnate.

Thus he is the final revelation from God. He is the one to whom the Father has committed the resurrection of the dead (see John 11 as well as John 5). No one comes to the Father who does not come through him, for he is the way.

John is certainly aware of this exclusive claim, for it repeats in different forms over and over again in the Gospel. It is also clear that the Gospel was written for people who do not yet believe, for that is clearly stated in the author’s purpose statement: “But these are written that you may believe [the best manuscripts imply ‘come to believe’] that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (Jn 20:31). These people are probably not Jews, for otherwise he would not have presented “the Jews” in such a negative light. What John appears to be doing is telling his Gentile readers that none of their former ways to life will do. Jesus is the only way.

John’s Jesus may in fact be offensive to us, but this is part of the offense of classic Christianity. The belief that Jesus is the way to God is also presented in Acts 2 and 3

(to Jews) and Acts 17 (to Gentiles). First Peter, written to Gentiles, claims that the whole world will appear before God to be judged according to the standards Jesus gave (for example, 1 Pet 4). The author of Hebrews does not believe that there is any salvation for those who turn back to Judaism from Jesus. The whole New Testament teaches that Jesus is the exclusive way to God or eternal life (it uses a variety of terms for these concepts).

The issue, then, is not whether or not we like this claim, but whether or not it is true.

The usual smokescreen is to say, “What about those who have never heard of Jesus?”

The response to this is twofold: (1) there is a missionary imperative in the New Testament to minimize this problem (that is why, for example, Paul dedicates his life to preaching Jesus where he has not yet been preached) and (2) how God may choose to reveal himself or deal with those who have no human messenger is his business. If we know God’s character, we can trust him to do his business well. Our problem is that we do know about Jesus and are living in a culture in which Jesus is all too well known. Furthermore, the missionary imperative falls to those of us who believe.

If, then, this claim is true, two conclusions follow. First, we are deceiving ourselves if we think that we can come to God any other way than through Jesus. What is more, no other way will supplement or add to Jesus as the way. Second, if we are already following Jesus, we are called, in John’s terms, to be witnesses to the truth and life found in Jesus.

14:12 What Greater Things?

In John 14:12 Jesus says that those who have faith in him will do “greater things than these.” What are these “greater things” that he is talking about? Surely he could not be talking about greater miracles? How can any person do greater things than the Son of God?

In the discussion of John 1:51 we saw that Jesus spoke of his miraculous works as “see

[ing] heaven open.” He was the gate between God and human beings, so to speak, and through him the powers of heaven were opened to those on earth. He continues this theme in John 5:19–20.

What Jesus is saying is that he does not act on his own but participates in the works of his Father. He is indeed a window into heaven, and while his listeners see Jesus in the flesh, the one actually doing the deeds is the Father.

With this background we now turn to John 14. The request that began the discussion was “Show us the Father” (Jn 14:9). Jesus’ response was “You have seen the Father in me.” He explains this by noting that the Father was the one actually doing the works.

Thus the disciples should believe that he was in the Father and the Father in him because of the works. What are these works? We know that they are not his teachings, for he refers to his words as evidence for believing his teachings. Thus they must be

“the miracles” (as the NIV [NIV New International Version] correctly translates), for those are the works which in John are connected with people believing. It is immediately after this that Jesus says that “anyone who has faith in” him will do

“greater works” than these. Given the context, the greater things can only be greater miracles.

This brings us to the other part of the problem: how can believers do greater miracles than Jesus? (The greater works are not preaching the gospel, for Jesus has distinguished between believing his claims about himself, that is, his preaching, and believing his works, which in context are clearly his miracles; in this text it is greater works than his that people will do, not greater preaching than his.) For Jesus this is no problem. He will be with his Father and he promises to do whatever believers ask.

Presumably this is conditioned by their being in harmony with him, for that seems to be the purpose of John 14:15.

The next section in the chapter adds to this picture, for it describes the work of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit is viewed as another of the same type as Jesus. He will “be in you” (Jn 14:17). This is amplified as “I will come to you” (Jn 14:18 RSV [RSV

Revised Standard Version] ). Finally, Jesus notes in John 14:23 with reference to his Father, “We will come to him [the one who loves Jesus and keeps his commandments]

and make our home with him.” Thus through the Spirit there is a unity produced: “On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you”

(Jn 14:20). Thus there is no problem with believers doing the works, for they will not be doing the works on their own at all. Through the Spirit the believer will have God inside of him or her. Just as the Father did the works which people saw Jesus doing, so he (or Jesus or the Spirit—the text refers to all as inside the believer) will do the miracles that the believers will do.

This point of view would not be strange to the rest of the New Testament. Acts reports miracles done by the apostles which are fully as impressive as any done by Jesus. Are they greater miracles? We must respond, By what standard? They are at least equal in kind and could be viewed as greater in the sense that they are done over a wider area and thus on a scale that Jesus could not do while on earth but can do as glorified in heaven. Galatians 3:5 refers off-handedly to God’s having worked miracles through the Galatians (the issue there is not whether they worked miracles, but how they did, by faith or by following Jewish practices). First Corinthians 12 refers to a gift

of miracles as if it were a known example of spiritual gifts. James 5:14–16 mentions effective prayers for healing in an end-of-the-letter context where one would expect to be reminded of old teaching, not introduced to new. Hebrews 6:4–5 indicates that that community had experienced the “powers of the age to come” (RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] ), probably meaning miracles. In other words, wherever we turn in the New Testament, we find a miracle-working community of faith. John 14:12 would not have caused any of them problems. They knew their own limitations, but they also knew what God could do through them.

So the deeper difficulty for the modern reader, once they understand that it is God doing the works through them and not their own having to produce the works, is why they may not be experiencing such events. At least part of the response John might make would be to point us to “If you love me you will obey what I command” (Jn 14:15). This is amplified in John 14:21, “Whoever has my commands and obeys them, he is the one who loves me. He who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love him and show myself to him.” This is not a legal statement but a relational one: if you are in harmony with me, then you will receive. The fact is that two cannot walk together unless they are agreed. Jesus lived in harmony with the Father, listened to the Father and did his works. The believer lives in harmony with Jesus (which includes obedience), experiences the presence of Jesus and his Father and does their works. Of course, we also remember that one of the works the Father had in store for Jesus was the cross, which is a form of following Christ that this section of John does not leave out (Jn 13:36).

There are, then, two further responses to our question: maybe our naturalistic worldview keeps us back from hearing the voice of the Father calling us to do such works as these, and maybe also, having read the whole book, we shrink back from following Jesus to glory because we fear that (to use Johannine terms) our ladder to glory like his may turn out to be a cross.

14:28 The Father Is Greater?

In the context of John we realize that Jesus’ “going away” has to do with his death, resurrection and ascension, for they are a single entity in John, and his “coming back”

refers first to his resurrection and then more importantly to his coming to his disciples in the Spirit, for that is the context of this chapter. Yet it is puzzling to read that “the Father is greater than I.” How can God be greater than God? Or does this mean that Jesus is not in fact God? In what sense is the Father greater than Jesus?

Any response to this question must take into account all of what John says about Jesus. For example, there are a number of passages in which the writer or Jesus claims Jesus’ equality with the Father (Jn 1:1, 18; 5:16–18; 10:30; 20:28). Thus we can assume that the author is not denying these statements. Along with this there are passages we have already noted in which Jesus claims dependence on the Father (Jn 4:34; 5:19–30; 8:29; 12:48–49). Thus we have two major themes in the Gospel: equality and yet dependence.

To understand what John means in this passage, we should notice that the meaning is something which Jesus believes should make the disciples glad, if they love him. Also, the meaning should take the wider context into account.

One possible meaning would be that Jesus is a lesser being than the Father, a demigod or a lesser god (given that Jn 1:1 indicates his divine character). Not only has this solution been rejected by the church throughout the ages (it was known as the Arian heresy), but it does not make sense within John. First, it does not make sense in the context of Jewish monotheism within which John and all of the Gospels are set. If you have multiple gods, whether of the same rank or of higher and lower rank, you have polytheism, against which Judaism cried out, “God is one.” There is no indication that John is trying to enter such a dispute with Judaism. Second, it does not make sense in terms of John, for the author has gone through some trouble to establish the unity and essential equality of the Father and Jesus. Furthermore, one can hardly see how this would make the disciples glad.

Another possible explanation is that the Father exists in heaven in complete power and glory, while Jesus was then living on earth in relative humility and obscurity. People who really loved Jesus would want him to return to the greater state of the Father. Not only would his return to glory be pleasant for him, but it would also be good for them since their leader would have his full power and glory. This is certainly an interpretation that does justice to the context and to Johannine theology and its context in Judaism. The only problem with such an interpretation is that this verse seems a rather awkward way to express this sentiment.

Finally, Jesus may be expressing the idea that there is organization in the Godhead and thus the disciples’ having their personal master directly in front of the Father would be advantageous for them. If this is what is intended, then we are taking the language of Father and Son quite seriously. In an ancient family with a father and an adult son, the two men would be the same in being. Both are adult human males, fully educated in the particular culture in which they exist. Yet the one designated “father” has greater authority in the household, including authority over the one designated “son.” (This is different from Western culture in which adult sons are viewed as independent of or emancipated from their fathers and thus as totally equal adults.) If this is what Jesus means, then we understand that his going to the Father not only puts him back with his own Father (about which those who love him should be glad), but also puts him with the one in whom the family (divine, in this case) authority is vested. He represents his disciples directly to the highest authority. That should also make his disciples glad.

This interpretation fits with the context in which Jesus’ going to the Father brings the release of the Spirit and greater authority and access to God in prayer to the disciples.

In my view, this latter perspective makes the most sense of the passage and the culture and context in which the passage was written. However, the second position is also acceptable, although it does not seem to make as much sense out of the context. If we accept the second position, it reminds us to be glad of the good things which happened to Jesus in his ascension, rather than mourning over our personal loss that he is not present (although we saw before that this is only an apparent loss, for he is in fact present through the Spirit). If we accept the second position, we will not only enter into the joy of the divine family being together, but will also rejoice that the one who represents us stands directly before the throne of the universe (see 1 Jn 2:1).

See also comment on matthew 11:27.

19:19 What Was the Crime?

It was Roman custom to post on the cross the crime of the one being executed. When we read John 19:19, it seems very clear what was written on the cross: “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.” However, then we read the other Gospels: Mt 27:37: This is Jesus, the king of the Jews.

Mk 15:26: The king of the Jews.

Lk 23:38: This is the king of the Jews.

What was the crime that was posted over Jesus?

It is clear that the Gospels agree on the charge: “king of the Jews.” That is, officially he was being executed as one who had proclaimed himself a king, specifically, king of the Jews, and so was being executed for rebellion against Caesar. This charge is consistent with the trial accounts and consistent with what we know of the concerns of the Roman government of the day about any popular Jewish movement. It is further reinforced by the fact that those executed with Jesus are called “thieves,” for the Jewish historian Josephus uses the same term to describe revolutionaries. In fact, Jesus may well have replaced Barabbas, who is clearly described as a revolutionary and could have been the leader of the other two.

What about the rest of the charge? Did it identify Jesus by name? How much of his name did it use? In all probability it did identify Jesus by name. A crucified person was not easy to recognize, given how brutally he or she had been treated. Furthermore, the purpose of crucifixion was not simply execution, but terror, for by crucifying a person in a public place (usually along a road leading into the city), the dying (and usually afterward, rotting) person would be a warning to anyone contemplating doing what the victim had done. Obviously identifying the victim would serve as more of a warning than leaving them unidentified.

Why, then, the differences in the Gospel accounts? First, each of the Gospel writers knows that words are precious. Papyrus only came in certain lengths, and three of our four Gospels fill the longest papyrus scrolls of the day. Mark, of course, could have bought a longer scroll, but by the time he came to this point in the story the scroll was already purchased and mostly used. The readers of the Gospels have no doubt about who is on the cross, so the only reason to include the name is for effect, if one has space. John includes the full name for he is going to make a comment on the accusation and the reaction it caused among the Jews (Jn 19:20–22). The other Gospels have not chosen to discuss the charge, so they can use a shortened form.

Second, while the accusation, according to John, was written in Aramaic (or Hebrew), Greek and Latin, we do not know in what form it passed into the Gospel tradition. Did one person remember the Aramaic and another the Greek? Or was the Aramaic the only form in which the charge was remembered? There is plenty of room here for various versions to be passed on, especially since only the charge itself was the essential part of what was written.

Thus this passage reminds us again of the process of writing the Gospels. The early oral accounts probably circulated in Aramaic and were then translated into Greek as needed. The significant point is that despite their history of transmission they agree on the central issue. This reminds us to focus on the core point, that Jesus was crucified as

a revolutionary, and not on the details, which did not bother the writers of the Gospels.

20:1–8 What Happened at the Resurrection?

The story of the resurrection in John is quite exciting and seemingly straightforward.

One woman shows up at the tomb, discovers it is open, informs the disciples, who investigate, and then meets first an angel and afterward Jesus. This straightforwardness is true enough so long as we look only at one Gospel. When we examine Matthew 28:1–8 or Mark 16:1–8 or Luke 24:1–10 we discover differing pictures. Can these pictures be put together? If they cannot, what does this mean for the truth of the accounts?

In responding to this issue, it would be helpful to look at the events in the four accounts (see chart).

Event

Mt 28:1–8

Mk 16:1–8

Lu 24:1–10

Jn 20:1–8

When?

at dawn

just after sunrise

very early in the morning

while it was still dark

Who comes first?

Mary Magdelene and the other Mary

Mary Magdelene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome

Mary Magdelene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and others

Mary Magdelene

What do they find?

earthquake with angel who rolls back the stone

stone rolled away

stone rolled away

stone removed from the entrance

Whom do they see?

angel sitting on the stone

young man in white robe, sitting on the right

two men in clothes that gleamed like lightening

no one

What do they do?

ran to tell his disciples

fled from the tomb, afraid to say anything

told what had happened to the Eleven and others

ran to tell Peter and the disciple, the one Jesus loved

What happens next?

Jesus met them

Peter goes to the tomb to investigate

Peter and the other disciple investigate

What is the third scene?

guards report to chief priests and are bribed

story of two disciples on Emmaus road

Mary sees two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been

When we examine these four accounts, we notice some similarities. First, all agree that the events happened around dawn, although they disagree about whether it was already light. Given that the events happened over a period of time, this difference is hardly significant. Second, all agree that Mary Magdalene was at least one of the ones discovering that the body had disappeared. The purposes of the individual narratives seems to determine how many other women are mentioned (with Luke, who has a special interest in women, noting the most women). Third, all agree that the women find an open, corpseless tomb. Matthew seems to imply that they also saw the opening of the tomb, although he may narrate the opening of the tomb as something that happened while the women were traveling and before they arrived at the tomb. None of the other Gospels mentions the guards, so how the tomb gets opened is less of a problem for them. Fourth, all agree that the women saw one or more angels (only Luke has two). However, the angel in John’s account appears to be functioning in a different narrative role than the ones in the other accounts. It is, perhaps, more accurate to say that John does not inform us if Mary saw anyone at the tomb before going to tell the disciples. What the angels say also differs, although in all cases the women are informed that Jesus is not there. In the various accounts they are told not to fear (and that they were afraid anyway), to report to the disciples and to meet Jesus in Galilee. Finally, all agree that the women left the tomb, and three of the four

accounts note that they did inform the disciples. (Mark breaks off with verse 8, the longer ending probably not being part of the original text; it is debated whether an original ending of Mark has been lost or whether he intended to break off with the women in fear and the question of whether they would follow Jesus into Galilee hanging in the air.)

Furthermore, two of the accounts agree that the woman or women met Jesus, that they tried to hold on to him, and that he sent them on their way. However, John appears to put this meeting after Peter and the beloved disciple investigate, and Matthew puts it before the women report to the disciples.

What can we conclude from this data? First, it is possible to make this data into a coherent story. If we assume that the pre- or postdawn timing depends on whether one gives the time of the women starting their trip or their arrival at the tomb, if we assume that the earthquake and angelic descent happened before the women arrived at the tomb, if we merge what the angels say into one account, if we assume that the angels moved around, and if we assume that Mary Magdalene remained behind at the tomb while the others went and reported (and thus had a separate meeting with Jesus), one can make a single coherent account out of the various stories. Obviously, if there were two angels, one writer could report only one. Not every writer has to report all of the details another mentions. In other words, these are different stories but not necessarily conflicting stories. All could be true at the same time.

Second, while it is possible to make the data fit into a coherent story, we cannot be sure that we have the right coherent story. We have a jigsaw puzzle of information and cannot be sure that we have all of the pieces. Thus, since the Scripture has not given us a single unified story, we must be careful or else we will end up believing that our reconstruction is the truth. A reconstruction may be the truth or it may distort the truth. Perhaps if we had some other critical pieces of information we would make quite a different reconstruction.

Third, these stories are exactly what one would expect to discover after a significant event like the resurrection. The chancellor of this author’s university died at the end of an address to the student body. Within an hour of the event a sociology professor had his thirty students each write down their own account of what had happened. Each was instructed to write as honest and detailed account as they could, given the limited time of the class period. When the accounts were later compared, there were numerous differences in detail, although all agreed that the chancellor had died at the end of his address. Presumably each Gospel writer had a series of stories about the resurrection to sort through. For example, we know that Matthew knows and values Mark’s account, but in the resurrection story he obviously has some independent information as well. The Evangelists selected and combined data to get the accounts that they give us. But even the beloved disciple in John is not an eyewitness of most of the events, so we are not surprised to find a lot of differences in their reporting what happened.

Finally, when we try to put the stories together, we miss the point of the authors. The church accepted into its canon four separate Gospels, viewing each as inspired by God.

It did not put into the canon a harmony of these Gospels (although such existed). The fact is that each writer is trying to bring out his unique perspective and theological insights by the details he includes or leaves out (although, unless Matthew and Luke are differing from Mark, which we know that they knew, we often cannot be sure that the author actually knows a detail and so purposely leaves it out). Matthew wants to

underline the miraculous and also explain a rumor that the body of Jesus was stolen.

Luke stresses the fulfillment of the words of Jesus and yet the disbelief of the apostles.

John, by focusing on a single character and her intimate discussion with Jesus, points out that in the resurrection and ascension of Jesus the promises of John 13–16 are fulfilled. Jesus cannot be held, for it is better for him to go to the one who is not only his Father but is now also our Father. It is when we look at the resurrection through such eyes, informed by the perspective of each Gospel writer, that we see not simply a miracle, nor even the fact of the resurrection, but the message the church has believed that God wanted to communicate in and through the resurrection of Jesus 20:22 Receive the Holy Spirit?

Did the disciples receive the Holy Spirit before the ascension or at Pentecost? In John 20:22 Jesus breathes on the disciples and indicates that he is granting them the Holy Spirit, which fulfills a promise repeatedly made in John 14–16. However, in Acts 2:4

we learn that later, after the ascension of Jesus, the 120 disciples gathered in the upper room had an experience, and “all of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them.” When was the Holy Spirit actually received by the disciples?

In John 20:21 we have the commissioning of the disciples: “As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” The sending of the Son in John is a sending into the world to save the world. The sending of the disciples is thus a continuation of this sending of Jesus as they go out into the world to preach the gospel. At this point Jesus grants them the power for mission with the words “receive the Holy Spirit.” Along with this empowering comes the authority to forgive sins (which, of course, is part of preaching the gospel, for in it one indicates whose sins are forgiven and whose are not). In other words, the three verses, John 20:21–23, fit together.

There have been three approaches to these verses. The first notes that this linking of empowering with the Spirit and the preaching of the gospel also appears in Acts, where the disciples wait until the Spirit comes at Pentecost and then begin to preach the gospel. Therefore, it is argued, this must be John’s version of the Acts event. John, of course, never mentions the ascension. Jesus comes and disappears repeatedly right to the end of the book. This is appropriate, for in John Jesus is said to come in the Holy Spirit to the disciples (Jn 14:18). Here, according to this argument, we have a symbolic presentation of what Acts speaks of as a later event. Symbolism is the way of John.

This is certainly a possible approach. In its best form it takes both John and its style seriously and Luke-Acts and its style just as seriously. It notes real parallels in the two accounts. Yet the approach also has its problems. First, the disciples do not go out and witness after receiving the Spirit. In fact, they cannot even convince Thomas (Jn 20:24–25). What is more, Thomas would then appear never to receive the Spirit.

Second, this solution really says that the two accounts are not reconcilable. One is historical and the other symbolic. While it is clear that we do not always know how accounts fit together, and thus there is some truth to such solutions, it is also clear that when John reports events he thinks of them as events, not symbols of events. The events may symbolize something (as the raising of Lazarus symbolizes the final resurrection), but they are viewed in themselves as historical. Thus this solution does

not fit John’s normal methodology.

A second approach views John as one type of giving of the Spirit and Acts as another.

John is the impersonal breath of God and Acts is the personal Holy Spirit. John is a sprinkling with the grace of the Spirit and Acts is full empowerment, saturation with the Spirit. John is the Spirit as new life and Acts is the Spirit as empowerment for ministry. The list of how these two givings are to be distinguished could be extended much further. Now this solution takes both of the events as quite historical and tries to distinguish why there should be two events. The problem with it is that neither John nor Acts seems to know about two receptions of the Spirit. Reading through John 13–

16 one does not notice two receptions but rather one Holy Spirit or “paraclete” (a transliteration of the word sometimes translated as “comforter” or “advocate”). In Acts the reception of the Spirit they are awaiting is not distinguished from any previous reception, despite Luke’s interest in the topic of the Spirit. Thus this approach seems to be an explanation imposed on the texts by people who read both Acts and John rather than something that either Luke or John thought of.

A third approach looks at John 20:22 as Jesus’ symbolic giving or promising the Spirit, which was experientially received on Pentecost. The breathing (not necessarily on the disciples, for there is no “on” in the text) symbolizes what the words say, namely the Holy Spirit. Yet nothing seems to happen. It is a promise. For John it is all that is needed, for those who experienced the power of the Spirit in the church knew that the disciples really did receive the Spirit. There is no need to mention that it did not occur until later, for John is not going to carry on the story that long. For Luke there is no need to mention any previous symbolic giving, for Jesus refers to the promise of the Spirit before his ascension (Acts 1:4–5). Luke is concerned with the reality of the power and how it directs the mission of the church. Thus both writers have their reasons for not needing to mention what the other includes (assuming that they knew of both stories). Naturally, it would not be surprising to think of Jesus as wanting to act out the giving of the Spirit personally, especially if he is aware that his physical presence with the disciples is coming to an end and he will not be physically present at Pentecost. In other words, John 20:22 may be John’s version of Acts 1:4–5 rather than John’s version of Pentecost.

It will remain for the reader to decide which of these approaches is the most satisfying in that it best fits the data of the texts in question. What is more important than harmonizing the texts is recognizing that both John and Acts do indeed insist that the Holy Spirit is needed for the mission of the church. Mere human power and authority cannot carry out the mission Jesus received from the Father. It takes the Spirit in the believer to produce the results the Father intends, the forgiveness of sins.

Acts

1:18 How Did Judas Die?

While Luke’s description of Judas’s death is rather gory, Acts 1:18 would not be a problem were it not that Matthew seemingly has a different story. In Matthew’s account, “Judas threw the money into the temple and left. Then he went away and hanged himself” (Mt 27:5). Matthew also reports that the chief priests used the money

“to buy the potter’s field as a burial place for foreigners.” Aren’t the two accounts

contradictory?

It is clear that Matthew and Luke have different concerns in mentioning the incident.

Matthew is more interested in the purchase of the field, which he sees as a fulfillment of Scripture. He combines Zechariah 11:12–13 (the thirty pieces of silver and the potter) and Jeremiah 32:6–12 (buying a field), perhaps with overtones of Jeremiah 18:1–4 (going to the potter’s house), and links them all under Jeremiah’s name (see comment on Mt 27:9–10).

Luke has another concern, which is that Judas got what he deserved, a horrible death.

(A similar situation is reported in Acts 12:21–24, where the author narrates the story of Herod Agrippa I’s death.) The focus is not on the purchase of the field (which would have appeared a reward, especially to Jews for whom landowning in Palestine was important), but on his death in the field (which was ghastly).

Both authors want to point out that the field was called “The Field of Blood,” thus memorializing the deed. Acts appears to connect the title to Judas’s blood in his death, while Matthew ties it to the fact that the blood money paid for the field. It is hardly surprising that the same name might mean different things to different people.

A closer look at the two stories highlights gaps in the narrative that raise questions about the events. But the accounts are not necessarily contradictory. Acts is concerned that Judas’s money and name were connected to a field. Whether or not the chief priests actually purchased it, perhaps some time after Judas’s death, would not be a detail of concern to the author. His point was the general knowledge that Judas’s money went to the purchase, which resulted in the title “Field of Blood” being attached to the field. Another possible reason for the name, also a concern of Acts, was that Judas split open and his intestines poured out. Such a defacing of the body, probably with the concomitant result of the corpse being at least partially eaten by vultures and dogs, was horrible in the view of the Jews, for whom proper burial was important. In fact, they even valued forms of execution that did not deface the outside of the body (such as strangulation) over forms that defaced the body (such as stoning, the worst form in their eyes).

Matthew points out that it was a guilt-motivated suicide, accomplished by the most common means, hanging. Suicide in Jewish literature is most often connected to shame or failure. (So 2 Sam 17:23; compare the other accounts of suicide in Old Testament history, which were normally to avoid a more shameful death.) However, since suicide by hanging was usually accomplished (at least by poorer people) by jumping out of a tree with a rope around one’s neck, it was not unusual (nor is it uncommon in India today) for the body to be ripped open in the process.1 [1 I owe this information to an Indian pastor well acquainted with such tragic events. There is, however, another translation of the passage: “Swelling up, he burst open, pouring out his intestines.” While “falling headlong” is a more likely translation than “swelling up,” which is first encountered in Papias’s reported comments on the event, there is still no conflict, for a corpse left hanging would swell up and often eventually break open, resulting in the same defaced body to which Acts wishes to point us.] I hesitate to say that this was exactly what happened, but it is certainly a plausible explanation.

Therefore, we will never be fully certain about what happened at the death of Judas.

What I have shown is that there are certainly credible explanations as to how the two accounts fit together. I have shown how it may well have happened, not how it must have happened. In doing so we see that there is no necessary contradiction. Yet what is important in reading these narratives is to focus on the points they are making, not on the horrible death. With Matthew we see that Scripture is fulfilled even while those

fulfilling it are driven by guilt and shame to their own self-destruction. And with Acts we see that sin does have consequences: Judas not only lost his office through his treachery, but came to a shameful end as well, an end memorialized in the place near Jerusalem named “Field of Blood.”

1:26 Casting Lots?

The eleven apostles, together with many other disciples, were gathered in the upper room after the ascension. At Simon Peter’s suggestion the decision was made to replace Judas, who had forfeited his office by his betrayal of Jesus. Unfortunately, the group of disciples contained not one but two qualified candidates, Matthias and Joseph Barsabbas. A decision has to be made. They pray. Someone brings out some dice. The dice are thrown and Matthias wins. He is from then on counted as an apostle, one chosen and sent by the Lord. This scenario is difficult for two reasons. First, if this procedure was of God, why isn’t church business conducted in this way now? Second, if this method is not to be used now, how could it have been legitimate then? Did Matthias really become the twelfth apostle, or was this the first major postascension failure of the church, a use of worldly methods?

The Eleven certainly had a legitimate concern. Jesus had promised that the Twelve would “sit on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel” (Lk 22:30). The situation that confronts them in Acts 1:26 is that now, as they await the inauguration of the mission to the world (Luke explains Pentecost more as empowering for mission than as the beginning of the church), there is a vacant spot. The issue was not that Judas had died. James son of Zebedee would also die, but he would not be replaced (Acts 12:2).

The apostles believed in the resurrection of the dead, so in their eyes James was still available to take his place on his throne. Instead, the issue with Judas was that by betraying Jesus he had forfeited his place.

Some have suggested that Paul was God’s choice as a replacement and that the decision here was premature. That can hardly be the case. First, one qualification was that the person had been with Jesus during his whole earthly ministry (Acts 1:21–22).

While many disciples other than the Twelve often followed Jesus, Paul was certainly not one of them. Second, the Twelve were oriented toward the “twelve tribes of Israel”; that is, their focus was and remained the Jewish-Christian mission. Paul was the great apostle to the Gentiles. Third, in his letters Paul never groups himself with the Twelve but rather maintains the uniqueness of his own apostleship (for example, 1

Cor 15:8–9; Gal 1:12, 15). Finally, Paul knows several other apostles, such as James (Gal 1:19) and Andronicus and Junia (Rom 16:7). Thus, while all of the Twelve were apostles, not all apostles belonged to the Twelve. The Eleven correctly realized that unique qualifications were needed to fill that twelfth spot.

Throughout the Old Testament the lot was the normal means of discerning the divine will when a prophet was not available. It was the means of decision on the Day of Atonement (Lev 16:8) and was how the land had been divided (Josh 18:10). Centuries later, when the returning exiles wanted to know God’s mind, they still used it (Neh 10:34; 11:1). More important than the historical examples are the instructions of Proverbs, which were understood as divine teaching. How could harmony be preserved when there were two contenders? “Casting the lot settles disputes and keeps strong opponents apart” (Prov 18:18). Could the dice really give God’s answer? “The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord” (Prov 16:33). In other

words, since the decision in Acts was not automatic (two men were fully qualified), those gathered in the upper room had every reason in terms of both biblical precedent and biblical teaching to believe that God would make his will known through the lot.

There was nothing incorrect in their procedure.

Why, then, is this the last time that we read about the early church using dice? In the next chapter, with the gathering fully organized (all twelve apostles in place), the Holy Spirit falls. The Spirit was also the Spirit of prophecy, whose departure from Israel had left them with only dice as a means through which God might communicate his will.

But now in the wake of the coming of Jesus the Spirit is back, not resting only on a few prophets, but on the whole people of God. Many of them received the gift of prophecy. From this point on Acts records prophetic words that explain decisions (for example, “the Spirit told me,” Acts 11:12), indicate people chosen for special roles (Acts 13:2) and apparently lead to consensus (Acts 15:28). In the church empowered by the Spirit, God speaks through that Spirit. It is therefore no wonder that in such a context the lot and similar indirect means of discerning the divine will (such as seeking omens from God like Gideon’s fleece) were relegated to history. We who live in a church still filled with that Spirit can continue to be thankful that due to our direct connection with God we no longer have to copy the means that were necessary for the first ten days of the church after Jesus left.

See also comment on jonah 1:4–5, 7.

2:38 Baptism for the Forgiveness of Sins?

Peter in his sermon at Pentecost connects baptism to the forgiveness of sins. Does baptism really forgive sins? If so, what about the unbaptized?

The connection of baptism with the forgiveness of sins has already occurred in Luke-Acts, for in Luke 3:3 the author has already mentioned “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (so also Mt 3:6, 11; Mk 1:4). What is more, baptism is connected to salvation in 1 Peter 3:21. Thus what we are looking at is not an isolated text, but the function of baptism, not only in Acts, but also in other New Testament documents. In effect, we are asking about the process of Christian initiation in the New Testament: how does one come into the Christian faith?

In Acts Peter outlines the process in logical steps. First, there is repentance. That is, (if a person acts in logical order) one first realizes that he or she is in a bad position. In Acts this repentance is a turning from their identification with the crucifixion of Christ (brought about by their leaders) and the judgment that that was a just act. In Luke and the other Gospels this is defined as a turning from specific sinful acts, specific ways one has lived life independent of God. Repentance in general is turning from one’s own way because now he or she knows that it is not God’s way.

The second step could be broken into two parts. Peter expresses it as being “baptized

… in the name of Jesus Christ.” If repentance is a turning from, this is a turning to. It is not enough to simply reject one’s former way of life as not being God’s way; a person must turn to go God’s way. What constitutes God’s way is Jesus Christ. The early Christian confession was “Jesus is Lord” (Rom 10:9, 10). “Faith in Jesus” could also be translated “commitment to Jesus” or “trust in Jesus.” In other words, the person acknowledges and Jesus is indeed God’s Anointed One (or Messiah or Christ),

God’s designated ruler (not a criminal justly condemned), and Jesus is living (for one cannot follow a dead man) and worthy of obedience and worship.

If that is the commitment, how does one make it? The answer given by Peter is baptism. It is in baptism that the early Christian (and in many places, the Christian today) made his or her official pledge of allegiance to Jesus. That is why 1 Peter 3:21

refers to a “pledge of a good conscience,” that is, the pledge to God to follow Jesus made, not deceptively, but in good conscience. It is no wonder, then, that baptism is connected to the forgiveness of sins, for without commitment to Jesus there is no forgiveness of sin, and this is the normal way in the New Testament to make that commitment. In other words, baptism is viewed in Acts something like a marriage ceremony: it is the time when one takes the pledge of identity with Jesus. It is how one expresses faith.

The third step in the process is not one which the person does, although on at least some occasions in Acts the leaders of the church do function as vehicles for it (Acts 8:17; 9:17; 19:6). In this step God grants the gift of the Holy Spirit. Paul will argue that a person can know that they are truly a Christian by the fact that they have received the Spirit (Rom 8:9), and Acts agrees. With this response of God, the process of Christian initiation is complete. The person is a full part of the church, equipped for all that God has called him or her to do, although there will certainly be a process of learning and maturing to go through as they begin to live out the new life.

The reason that Peter’s statement in Acts seems so strange to us is that in the modern church we sometimes do things differently. Because so many different understandings of baptism exist, evangelists who work across denominational lines generally avoid talking about it. Even those working within a single denomination often separate baptism from the conversion process. Thus in some Baptist groups one “prays a sinner’s prayer” and/or signs a “decision card” at the point of conversion and then may be baptized as part of “joining the church” or “giving a public testimony” to one’s faith. Yet the individual is recognized as a full Christian even without baptism. On the other hand, some (but by no means all) people baptized in mainline denominations may have grown up in families that rarely attended church. They come to adulthood with a baptismal certificate and no conscious faith. Then they hear an evangelist and make a conscious commitment to Christ. They too pray a prayer and/or sign a card. But unless they decide to leave their old denomination, they will not be baptized. They will perhaps say, “I have finally personally actualized those vows that my parents spoke over me.” In either case the prayer and decision card substitute for the role of baptism in Peter’s speech.

So what of the unbaptized believer? The critical issue is the making of a pledge in good conscience. God looks on the heart.

See also comment on 1 peter 3:21.

4:12 Salvation in No One Else?

This verse is the climax of Peter’s defense to the Sanhedrin in Jerusalem. The author of Acts explicitly states that Peter was “filled with the Holy Spirit” when he made this statement (Acts 4:8, fulfilling the promise of Lk 12:11–12). Peter claims that “Jesus Christ of Nazareth,” the one raised from the dead and powerful enough to have healed

a lame beggar, is the sole bringer of salvation to Israel.

The first issue to address is the meaning of salvation. Salvation is a special interest of the author of Luke-Acts. It can mean deliverance from everything from sickness to sin, from political oppression to divine judgment. The lame man in Acts 3–4 had been saved by being healed, while Zechariah speaks of salvation in terms of deliverance from the political enemies of Israel (Lk 1:71). Acts 27:31 refers to rescue from a storm at sea as salvation. But a further issue is one of escaping divine judgment (Acts 2:21, 40). This escape not only is a rescue, but also has a positive side, namely, “that times of refreshment may come from the Lord” (Acts 3:19). This last meaning dominates the speeches in Acts. Thus while the author certainly knows many meanings for salvation (for example, that Jesus is the one through whom physical healing comes), the stress in this passage is on what he believes is the most significant meaning, salvation in its fullest sense: deliverance from divine judgment and the release of the blessings of God.

This type of salvation, he states, comes only through Jesus Christ.

It is significant that Peter makes this statement in front of Jewish leaders. Their Judaism could not save them. They needed the one “name,” the name of Jesus. This theme of the exclusiveness of salvation through Christ is repeated a number of times in Acts, but perhaps Paul puts it most starkly over against Athenian Greek religion and philosophy when he states, “In the past God overlooked such ignorance, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent. For he has set a day when he will judge the world with justice by the man [Jesus] he has appointed” (Acts 17:30–31). In other words, the teaching throughout Acts (and the rest of the New Testament, for that matter) is that there is only one way to escape God’s judgment and receive his favor, and that is through Jesus. This exclusivity is a consistent claim of the early church.

Obviously, this teaching goes against the grain of our age. We would like to think that salvation might also be found in Krishna or Buddha or Muhammad or simply in belief in God without specific Christian faith.2 [2 Since I am Canadian, I note that in the Canadian context, with its multicultural ideal of cultural preservation and toleration (versus the United States’s melting-pot ideal of cultural assimilation), this Bible verse appears positively racist. The Native American, the Jew, the Sikh and others all have their own forms of salvation. Isn’t it racist to suggest that they will not find salvation in the way that their own culture dictates?] This position, however popular it may be and however tolerant it may seem, both contradicts the teaching of this passage (and many others in the New Testament, such as Jn 14:6) and is logically problematic. If the scriptural claim that God sent Christ to die for us is in any way true, and provided God himself were not confused, then none of the other existing ways is possible. Furthermore, if God sent his Son to death when other ways of salvation already existed (such as through Buddha or Judaism) or would come into existence but not involve death (such as Islam), then God is either a masochist (due to the pain it caused him) or a sadist. In other words, the exclusivity of Christianity is rooted in the logic of the faith, as well as in the teaching of Scripture. It may be offensive to the modern mind, but, like the offensiveness of being carried in a fireman’s dirty, smelly arms from a burning building, it may be necessary. The cross has always been a scandal.

Given salvation’s exclusive nature, what does Peter mean by stating that salvation is in a “name”? Again, we return to Peter’s first sermon, where he states, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Acts 2:21). Peter is quoting Joel 2:32, which in its Old Testament context meant calling on Yahweh (“the Lord” is the Greek term substituted for “Yahweh” to avoid saying the divine name) for deliverance (rather than calling on Baal or some other god). The “name” stands for the person himself; but

Peter in Acts 2 does not intend that one call on Yahweh. Instead he argues in the next few verses that Jesus of Nazareth is precisely the one God has made “both Lord and Christ” (Acts 2:36) and therefore is the one to whom any appeal for salvation should be addressed.3 [3 Peter can make the shift from Yahweh to Jesus easily because in reading the Hebrew scriptures,

<‡doµnaµy, “lord,” was traditionally substituted for every place the consonants for “Yahweh” appeared. In the Greek version of the Old Testament the consonants for “Yahweh” were therefore translated by kyrios, “lord.” This Greek term is used every time Jesus is called “Lord.” So the term used in the Old Testament is the same as that which the church was commonly using to refer to Jesus, making the identification of the two easy, especially since, according to the Gospel stories, God designated Jesus as his Anointed One or Christ (Lk 2:11; 4:18; 9:20; Acts 4:27; 10:38). Furthermore, Psalm 110:1, a favorite text of the New Testament church, used

“lord” in two senses in one verse, giving Old Testament precedent to the New Testament usage.] This is also the meaning in Acts 4:12. We appeal to Jesus, doing so by name. No other name is appropriate, not in the sense that another of the names for Jesus of Nazareth would be inappropriate, but in the sense that calling upon any other person, religious leader or deity will not work. It will take us to the wrong address, to someone or something which cannot save.

Therefore there is no mystical meaning in the name Jesus. Nor is simply knowing or using that name what is intended. Rather, Peter is calling for a commitment to a person, which is what believing, or faith, means in the New Testament sense. We must cry out to him in repentance (which means turning from living one’s life independent of the authority of Christ) and turn to him in obedience as Lord. The statement “Jesus is Lord” (and therefore the lord or “boss” of the person making the statement) was the basic confession of the early church (see, for example, Acts 17:7; Rom 10:9–10). This commitment to that person, the one named Jesus Christ, is what will bring salvation, whether in its broader or narrower sense. No other appeal, no other name, will do.

See also comment on john 14:6.

4:19 Submitting to Government?

See comment on romans 13:1–7.

4:32 They Shared Everything?

Does this verse describe an idealized behavior of the church, later abandoned? Could it be called “primitive communism”? Is this practice the reason the Jerusalem church became poor? What is its relevance for today?

To understand the two passages that describe the behavior of the early church (Acts 2:42–47; 4:32–35), we need to understand the methodology of Acts, the context of the passages and their meaning. First, we note the methodology. The author is writing in an environment in which writing space is limited. Both Luke (the first volume in the two-part work) and Acts fill what would be the longest scrolls available in that day.

Thus, the author must compress the text in his effort to fit a massive history within a limited scroll. Any word of Jesus that appears in Luke does not appear in Acts.

Conversely, the saying that appears in Acts 20:35 does not appear in the Gospel.

Another way the author shortens the text is by describing a topic once and then abbreviating it in succeeding references. The gospel messages in Acts are given in their fullest form the first time they appear and after that only in abbreviated form. New material, however, is given in full. Pentecost is the fullest description of filling with the Spirit; only variations are mentioned later. Acts 2 and 4–5 describe what the experience of the early church is supposed to be like. New details are added later, but

the basic description of the church is not repeated. We expect, then, that these passages show how the author believed church life should be lived.

Second, both Acts 2 and Acts 4 fall within a context of the filling of the Spirit. Acts 2

includes Pentecost and the initial evangelistic thrust of the church. In the general description of life in the Spirit-filled church (Acts 2:42–47) we discover three elements: (1) signs and wonders, (2) evangelistic outreach and (3) sharing (teaching, food, possessions, prayer). In Acts 4 the believers respond to persecution with prayer for boldness (Acts 4:29–30). Again the church is filled with the Spirit. Again the three elements appear: (1) signs and wonders (Acts 5:12–16), (2) evangelistic outreach (Acts 4:33; 5:14) and (3) sharing (Acts 4:32–5:11). In this last passage the author chooses to expand upon the sharing aspect, first describing it and then giving two examples. For the author of Acts, sharing (often translated “fellowship”) is a key mark of the Spirit-filled church. It is not a historical curiosity.

Third, what does the author intend by these passages? We can immediately lay to rest the idea of a “primitive communism” in which everyone turned all of their goods over to the community upon conversion. That has been a viable way of life for some Christian communities, but it is not what was happening in Acts. The description of selling one’s goods in Acts 2:45 is expanded in Acts 4:34. In both cases the verb tense indicates an ongoing process.4 [4 That is, the verb is in the imperfect tense, indicating a habitual or repeated action, not the aorist, which would have indicated a one-time action.] Whenever a need came to light, those having goods sold them and brought the money to provide for the need. As if these descriptions were not clear enough, in Acts 5:3–4 the author makes it plain that such generosity was not a legal requirement; it was the lie, not the failure to give, for which Ananias and Sapphira are condemned.

What was happening in the Jerusalem church, then, was simply that “they shared everything they had” (Acts 4:32). What had been an ideal to some of the Greek philosophers has been realized by the power of the Spirit in the church. Because they were “one in heart and mind” all thought of possessiveness vanished. They shared freely with one another. This resulted in powerful evangelism and an experience of grace, perhaps indicated by the signs and wonders (Acts 4:33). Consequently, they realized the goal of Deuteronomy 15:4 (“There should be no poor among you”):

“There were no needy persons among them” (Acts 4:34). Why was that? To hear of a need was to search one’s heart to see if one could meet the need. As soon as a need was announced those with possessions would want to share (since the Spirit had removed their possessiveness and joined them in heart to their poorer fellow Christians). They shared by bringing the money to the apostles, probably because (1) the apostles would know if the need had been met already and (2) the apostles would guard the anonymity of the donor. Later Jewish charity rules valued the anonymity of both donor and recipient. Joseph Barnabas is viewed as a good example of this practice. Ananias and Sapphira appear as negative examples, trying to fake the impulse of the Spirit and by deceit get the apostles to think of them as more Spirit-filled than they are. But, as someone observed, “in the church in which the lame walk liars die.”

The same Spirit that is present for signs and wonders is also present for judgment.

We should not imagine, however, that this practice is what impoverished the Jerusalem church. On the one hand, there were plenty of reasons for that church to become poor.

Jerusalem was not in a good economic position, being off trade routes and not in the best agricultural area. Its main business was government and the temple, but the Christians were probably given only limited access to the revenues from either of these

sources. Also, evidence in James indicates that the church experienced economic persecution, both in terms of legal oppression and in terms of “last hired—first fired”

discrimination. The church had a large group of apostles to support (unlike the tentmaker Paul, a fisherman like Peter could not support himself on a mountain), many visiting Christians to feed and care for, and probably a large proportion of older believers, since many older Jews moved to Palestine to die and be buried in its soil (such pious dislocated people would be especially open to the gospel). To add to its problems Jerusalem experienced more than one severe famine during the 40s. We can read reports of Queen Helena of Adiabene sending relief to Judea, as well as rabbinic references to famine and poverty in Jerusalem. All of these would conspire to make it difficult to maintain the church in Jerusalem. But for the early Christians it was important for symbolic reasons that a large Christian presence remain in that city. It is no wonder that Paul took up a collection to support this church (Rom 15:26; 1 Cor 16:1; 2 Cor 8–9).

Acts, of course, is giving us historical precedents, not a pattern to be slavishly imitated.

It shows what happened when the Spirit was present in power, not necessarily how the church must live today. However, we have already noticed that there is no other pattern for church life in Acts. The frequency of meetings may have dropped to once a week as the church moved into the Gentile world (because the church was no longer located in one small city where meeting was easy and because the large group of slaves in the church made frequent meetings more difficult), but the author mentions nothing about a change in the charitable spirit. In fact Paul in 2 Thessalonians 3:6–15 deals with an abuse of church charity that assumes some system of sharing was in place. He tells the abusers to “shape up or ship out,” but, far from changing the system, he turns to the church and says, “Never tire of doing what is right” (2 Thess 3:13). If this were not enough, we discover the same Spirit is poured out on the Macedonian churches (2

Cor 8). They lived in “extreme poverty,” but had given themselves so freely to God that they begged to be allowed to share with the poor in Jerusalem. The principle, Paul argues, true even across continental boundaries, is “that there might be equality” (2

Cor 8:13; the context makes it plain that economic equality is in view). This equality due to Spirit-directed sharing is precisely the situation we observed in practice in Jerusalem in Acts.

The modern church is concerned about the power of the Spirit. Evangelism is desired; signs and wonders are called for. Given that Paul turns the third part of the precedent of Acts into principle, we should take seriously the practice of the church in Acts, expecting that a full outpouring of the Spirit in any period of history would have all three effects. While it may not take the identical form it took in Jerusalem, the presence of the Spirit will open the wallets of anyone whose heart is truly open to his presence.

5:9 Testing the Holy Spirit?

The story of Ananias and Sapphira is an uncomfortable one that contains a number of difficult issues. What did this couple do that was so wrong? Why weren’t they simply exposed and then called to repentance? Why did they die, and why don’t we see the same penalty happening in the church today?

The church after Pentecost was “filled with the Holy Spirit” (Acts 4:31), which was manifested in three ways: through (1) bold proclamation or evangelism, (2) signs and

wonders, and (3) great generosity. The Spirit of God freed people from the spirit of Mammon so that they gave whenever they saw a need, selling property and belongings if necessary. There was no compulsion, no requirement. It was simply a natural response to the presence of the Spirit of the generous God within them.

Immediately before this story is that of Barnabas, who, moved by the Spirit, sold his property and gave the money to the church. Obviously, the church approved of this generosity. Ananias and Sapphira apparently wanted this same approval but did not have the same Spirit-caused generosity within their hearts. As a result they chose to sell their property but to give only part of the proceeds to the church. At the same time they agreed to claim that they were giving the whole amount. The text makes it very clear that the sin was not that they gave only part of the money (Acts 5:4), but that they lied (Acts 5:3). If they gave and how much they gave was a matter between them and God. It was not a major issue. That they lied about what they were doing was a major issue—in fact, it is the issue of the rest of the story.

Before addressing Sapphira, Peter speaks to Ananias: “Satan has so filled your heart that you have lied to the Holy Spirit” (Acts 5:3). In other words, not being open to the Spirit of God, but instead living in their need for security in owning money or property, they had allowed themselves to be directed by Satan into deception. They, members of the church, had been to some extent demonized. This was a natural conclusion for Peter, for Satan is pictured as a deceiver and “the father of lies” (Jn 8:44) from Genesis 3 on. When they turned from the truth (perhaps only the uncomfortable truth that they were not secure enough to give as generously as others), they opened themselves to the archliar. Such a situation does not differ from that of today, for people who reject the impulses of the Holy Spirit or turn from God’s truth are likewise often caught in the web of deception and falsehood that seems to descend upon them.5 [5 The most obvious parallels are the numerous pastoral leaders who have been deceived into thinking that their sin, whether sexual or not, somehow would not be discovered and that they could still go on ministering. Their public humiliation has not always broken through this deception, but it has paralleled the humiliation of Ananias and Sapphira when their sin is revealed to Peter.] Ananias and Sapphira apparently were aware that they were telling a lie before the church, although they were themselves deceived in failing to recognize that the Spirit would reveal the truth to Peter. Peter calls this attempt at deception “test[ing] the Spirit of the Lord.”

In saying the sin is that of testing God’s Spirit, Peter recalls the Old Testament testing tradition and in particular Israel’s experience in the wilderness. Even before coming into the wilderness and during their years there Israel had good evidence of the reality and presence of God. He had divided the sea and defeated Pharaoh. He had provided food and water for them. But he also announced his intention to test them (Ex 15:25).

He let them come into hard places to see if they responded with trust or with mistrust.

In Exodus 17 they came to a place named “Testing” (Massah). Again there was no water. Again the people responded with mistrust: “Is the Lord among us or not?” (Ex 17:7). This mistrust and the demand that God act or they will not believe that he is among them is termed “testing God.” In fact, God later says that Israel “tested me ten times” (Num 14:22). It is no wonder that Deuteronomy 6:16 says, “Do not test the Lord your God as you did at Massah.” The same theme is repeated later (Ps 78:18, 41, 56; 95:9; 106:14). The Jews were quite aware of this tradition, for it was picked up quite often in their literature.

Peter, then, is saying to Sapphira that in spite of the evident presence in the church of the Spirit of the Lord (“the Lord” here refers to Jesus) she and her husband had chosen to attempt to “pull a fast one” on him. Their lie contained within it the assumption that

the Spirit would do nothing; conscious or not, it was a challenge as to whether God was really present in the church. Will he respond, or will he turn a blind eye to their deception? As noted later in the New Testament (Acts 15:10; 1 Cor 10:9), that is a dangerous challenge. God responds, and they die.

Their immediate death without a chance to repent probably had two reasons. First, it was the first time that believers had issued such a challenge to God, so it was important for God to act clearly and decisively to prevent any misunderstanding about the reality of his presence and his willingness to hear and judge. Second, it was a time of intense spiritual presence, and where the evidence of God’s presence is greater the sin of challenging that presence is more serious. There also may be mercy involved in such a judgment. While death is an ultimate penalty from the human perspective, from the divine perspective it is far less serious than a continued movement into sin and deception; the quick divine judgment prevents full apostasy (1 Cor 11:32).

The teaching of the story, then, is twofold. First, Christians are not to put God to the test. Jesus gave the proper example of endurance under testing in Matthew 4:7.

Christians are to follow suit and trust God in hard places. Second, the presence of the Spirit in the church is not without its dangers. Some died for ignoring the presence of the Lord (1 Cor 11:30; the sin is a rubbing of salt in the wounds of social divisions in the church). The church was given the authority to make declarations that may have the same effect as Peter’s (although perhaps not with such an immediate result; 1 Cor 5:3–5; compare 2 Cor 13:10). I have observed similar incidents in the church today, some of which were reasonably dramatic and others of which took place over a longer period of time. God is a God of holiness, and those who will not treat him as holy will experience the consequences.

The church today often prays for revival. Perhaps it should ask if it really wants what it is praying for. Obviously we would welcome the power of God in evangelism and signs among us. We might even welcome a growing presence of the Spirit in prophecy.

But reading this passage in the context of Acts should remind us that “in the church where the lame walked liars died.” With the power of God comes his holiness, and those who are not prepared to live in his holiness will do well to fear rather than to seek his power.

7:14–15 How Many Went to Egypt?

Our verse says that seventy-five members of Jacob’s family went down to Egypt, but upon reading Genesis 46:27, Exodus 1:5 or Deuteronomy 10:22 we are told that only seventy people went down to Egypt, and this smaller number includes Joseph and his children.6 [6 All of the texts count only males, for the Hebrews were patrilineal and the purpose of such genealogical texts was to trace the male line. It is also clear that none of the texts give any indication that the numbers are anything other than literal head counts, for no special meaning is attached to either 70 or 75.] Which of these texts is correct?

As in the previous chapter, we have here a problem with text. All English versions are translated from the Hebrew Masoretic text of the Old Testament. However, one of the Hebrew texts found at Qumran has seventy-five in Exodus 1:5 (4QExÊd). The Septuagint (Greek translation) of both Genesis 46:27 and Exodus 1:5 also has the number seventy-five (and omits Jacob and Joseph in the number). The Jewish writer Philo knows about the problem, but does not solve it for us ( De Migratione Abrahami 199–200). In other words, Stephen’s (or Luke’s) Bible probably had the number

seventy-five rather than seventy.

When we ask which of these numbers is correct, we notice that counting the names listed in the Old Testament stories we come out with seventy. This appears to be the more firmly established tradition. However, we say that from the point of view of modern textual criticism. Stephen and Luke, assuming that they read the Septuagint, would not have known that Hebrew Scriptures had a different number. It would be like a person reading a King James Bible and not knowing that 1 John 5:7 is based on poor textual authority and so is not found in most modern translations. That person would claim that 1 John 5:7 is in the Bible; the others would just as rightly claim that it is not.

A scholar would say that both were right in terms of their own English Bible, but that the original version of 1 John came without that verse.

If Stephen knew the Septuagint (and as a Greek-speaking Jew that was probably true), then he surely said seventy-five. Stephen was honest to his Bible and Luke was honest about what Stephen said (or perhaps did not even notice the problem for his Bible said the same thing). We see that Stephen was off by five persons. It is not an issue of scriptural accuracy, for neither Stephen nor Luke is teaching about Jacob’s genealogy or the size of his family; they are teaching about how God was with Joseph in Egypt and then brought the whole nation out of Egypt. The point is that God deals with Israel outside of the Promised Land.

That is also why in the following verse the speech combines the burial of Joseph at Shechem (Josh 24:32) with the burial of Jacob at Hebron in the cave of Machpelah (Gen 23:17; 49:29–32; 50:13). The point is not accuracy of historical detail (any learned Jew would have known that this was a summary combining two accounts), but God’s action and human (especially Jewish) resistance to him. The fact that Shechem was in Samaritan territory may be deliberate, for it places the burial of the patriarchs (and this was quite accurate for Joseph, the one God used) outside of Jewish land and into the territory of the hated Samaritans.

What we have to remember is that in speeches like these the speaker does not intend to give a history lesson. Before he started, he would know good and well that his audience knew the history as well as he did, if not better. What he is trying to do is to make a point from the history. Therefore he can streamline it to fit his purposes. What we have to focus on is the point that the author is making about God (and human resistance) rather than losing our focus through fixating on numbers and chronology.

8:1 All Were Scattered?

The persecution in Acts 8:1 raises some questions. Didn’t a major Jewish leader call for tolerance in Acts 5? And isn’t it strange that when the church was persecuted the leaders of the church would be allowed to remain?

More is going on in this passage than meets the eye. Returning to Acts 2:42 and 3:1, we note that the apostles (and the church in general) had been born within Judaism and lived their lives as pious Jews. They attended the temple at the three times of prayer (morning and afternoon sacrifices and again at dusk) and followed the other pious practices of good Jews, such as generous charity. What distinguished them was their belonging to a fellowship that believed that Jesus of Nazareth was the promised Messiah, or deliverer, of the people, a fellowship that ate meals together and followed

the living direction of this Jesus through the Spirit.

Because they were a growing popular religious movement, they threatened the temple hierarchy (who were not in any way popular). The priestly leaders of this hierarchy in turn arrested and persecuted the apostles (Acts 4:1; 5:17, both of which name the Sadducees as the source of persecution). But in order to convict them before the high court, the Great Sanhedrin, the Sadducees had to convince the Pharisees, who were also part of the court, that the apostles were guilty of some major crime, such as blasphemy. The Pharisees certainly rejected the beliefs of the church, for they were a fellowship still awaiting the appearance of the Messiah, believing that Jesus had been rightly executed for blasphemy. Gamaliel’s defense of the apostles in Acts 5:34–39

shows a typical Pharisaic attitude: as long as the Christians are living like pious Jews, there is no need to attack them. Orthopraxis (right practice) rather than orthodoxy (right teaching) was the Pharisees’ main issue. As they saw it, the church was not doing anything wrong; it was just wrong-headed. The apostles were beaten (perhaps

“just for good measure”), but nothing else happened.

In Acts 6 we discover two groups in the church, the original Aramaic-speaking group, among whom were the apostles, and a new group of Greek-speaking Jewish-Christians. This group perhaps began with some of those converted at Pentecost and grew as other pilgrims were converted when they visited the city. Due to their linguistic differences such Jews went to separate synagogues in Jerusalem. Within the church they probably met in separate house churches. Stephen belonged to this Greek-speaking group.

Stephen was arrested for “speaking against [the] holy place and against the law” (Acts 6:13). In his defense he argued that Israel had at every turn rejected God and his messengers, including Moses and especially Jesus. He also argued that the temple was not where God lived, but was another example of Jewish disobedience (Acts 7:48–50).

This was enough to unite the Pharisees with the Sadducees in lynching Stephen, for they saw in this statement the implication that temple worship, one of the pillars of Judaism, was not important. (In fact, another Greek-speaking Jewish-Christian, the author of Hebrews, later argued that the Pharisees’ worst fears were in fact true. Jesus had superseded the old system.) Thus Christians do not need to follow Jewish customs. To the Pharisees, this was teaching Jewish-Christians to do something wrong and would lead to the defiling of the nation and the delay of the coming of Messiah; it was far worse than being wrong-headed. One of the leaders in this execution was Saul, a Pharisee (Acts 7:58; 8:1).

This background explains the persecution. In the eyes of the authorities the Greek-speaking Christians (already suspect because they came from outside Palestine and spoke only Greek) were the problem. They were persecuted and scattered, pursued as far as Damascus (Acts 8:1; 9:1–2). But the Aramaic-speaking Christians, including the apostles, were not suspect. Were they not known to be people of exemplary piety, frequently in the temple? The persecutors, principally the Pharisees, did not consider them in the same category as their Greek-speaking brothers and sisters.

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