7. Transitional conclusion: expanding ministry (11:1)
OVERVIEW
For a general introduction to the discourses and their problems, see 
On the face of it, this discourse is as tightly bracketed as the others (v.5a; 11:1), giving at least the impression that all the material of vv.5b–42 was delivered on one occasion. It is also peculiarly difficult. Two separate but related questions need careful attention before a judgment is formed.
The literary question. Roughly speaking, vv.5–15 have some parallels with Mark 6:8–11; Luke 9:3–5; 10:5–15. The last of these references, however, concerns the mission of the seventy-two, not found in Matthew or Mark. Matthew 10:16a resembles Luke 10:3. But Matthew 10:17–25, concerning the disciples’ persecution and their arraignment before tribunals, finds its closest parallel in the Olivet Discourse (Mk 13:9–13; Lk 21:12–19; cf. Mt 24:9–14). The final section (vv.26–42), setting out conditions for discipleship in more general terms, resembles material in Mark 9 and Luke 12:2–12. With the exception of only a few places (vv.5–6, 8, 16b), little in vv.5–42 is peculiar to the first gospel, though admittedly some parallels are not as close as others.
The most common literary theory is that Matthew composed this address from segments of his two principal sources, Mark and Q. Those who reject Mark’s priority and insist on Matthew’s priority do not need Q and have an easier time defending the unity of this chapter. But Mark’s priority still has the best credentials (see Introduction, ), and so the problems remain. David Wenham (Rediscovery of Jesus’ Eschatological Discourse, 231–51) has argued that almost this entire discourse comes from various strands of the Q tradition (this does not necessarily mean Q is a single, written document). Mark’s parallels are thereby judged secondary and condensations of earlier sources.
The historical and theological question. How do such source theories affect the context Matthew establishes? Here there is little agreement. F. W. Beare (“The Mission of the Disciples and the Mission Charge: Matthew 10 and Parallels,” JBL 89 [1970]: 1–13) does not think there ever was a mission of the Twelve. The setting is a fabrication designed to enhance the discourse, itself an edited collection of sayings, few of them authentic. Many scholars, including conservative ones, suppose the discourse to be an amalgam of authentic material given on at least two separate occasions (e.g., Allen, Grosheide). Tasker leaves the question open. R. Morosco (“Redaction Criticism and the Evangelical: Matthew 10 a Test Case,” JETS 22 [1979]: 323–31) resurrects the old theory of Benjamin Bacon (“‘Five Books’ of Moses”), assuming not only five discourses in Matthew but also their having been modeled on the five books of the Pentateuch (see Introduction, ). Morosco does not make clear, however, whether he thinks (1) that there is some historical commissioning of the Twelve to which a collage of material has been attached, (2) that a discourse was delivered on that occasion, and this is an expanded adaptation of it, or (3) that the setting itself is fictitious.
Related to the historical question are several observations about the content of Matthew 10. In vv.5–16, all Jesus’ instructions neatly fit the situation of the Twelve during Jesus’ public ministry. This includes Jesus’ prohibition of ministry to anyone other than Jews (vv.5–6). But vv.17–22 clearly envisage a far more extensive ministry—even to kings and Gentiles. The persecution described does not fit the period of the first apostolic ministry but looks beyond it to times of major conflict long after Pentecost. As a result the great majority of modern commentators take this to be what Schuyler Brown describes as a literary means for Jesus to instruct “the Matthean community through the transparency of the twelve missionary disciples” (“The Mission to Israel in Matthew’s Central Section,” ZNW 69 [1978]: 73–90)—though, of course, many of the sayings are not thought to be dominical.
The historical and especially the literary issues are complex and intertwined, as is clear from the diversity of proposed solutions. The evidence can be weighed variously. Most solutions mask some unproved presuppositions and embrace a succession of judgments that could go another way.
Since Luke records both the commission of the Twelve and that of the seventy-two (9:1–6; 10:1–16), we must assume that these were separate events. But probably the Twelve were part of the seventy-two; instructions given the latter were therefore given the former. Although v.5a is historically specific about the fact of Jesus’ instructing the Twelve and commissioning them, it does not pinpoint the exact time in his ministry when this took place. We have already found that Matthew, in condensing the account of the raising of Jairus’s daughter and omitting the messengers, effectively collapses the first approach of Jairus and the news from the messengers, with the result that the daughter is presented as dead a little earlier than in the synoptic parallels (see 
David Wenham (Rediscovery of Jesus’ Eschatological Discourse, 251 n. 1) would go further. He notes that 11:1 is the only ending to a Matthean discourse that omits “these words” or “these parables” or the like and wonders whether the omission might be a hint that this second discourse, unlike the others, is meant to be taken as a Matthean collection of Jesus’ sayings. Such an argument from silence seems a slender thread on which to hang so much, not least because, apart from the opening words kai egeneto (lit., “and it happened”—see 
Careful study of vv.5–42 suggests that the discourse is more unified than often recognized. Many of the alleged discrepancies are artificial. There is no conflict, for instance, between the ready harvest of 9:37–38 and the resistance in 10:16–22 (contra Morosco, “Redaction Criticism,” 325). “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church” is a valid principle, and many great awakenings, including the Whitefield and Wesleyan revivals, have shown afresh that the harvest is most plentiful when the workers reap in the teeth of opposition. If Matthew omits the account of the Twelve’s actual departure and return (kept in Mk 6:12–13; Lk 9:6, 10), it cannot mean that he does not know of the event or does not believe it happened; otherwise Matthew 10:1, 5; 11:1 are incoherent. Matthew is less interested in the details of many events he relates than in Jesus’ words; but “less interested” does not mean “not interested,” which seems to be the favorite disjunction of many redaction critics.
Certainly vv.17–23 go beyond the immediate mission of the Twelve, and in at least two ways the latter verses envisage a mission to the Gentiles, unlike vv.5b–6, and one with far severer opposition than anything the Twelve faced during Jesus’ ministry. Yet these are not new themes. We have already found Jesus predicting severe persecution (e.g., 5:10–12), seeing a time of prolonged witness to the “world” (5:13–14; 7:13–14) after his departure (9:15), and many Gentiles participating in the messianic banquet (8:11–12). Therefore it is surely not unnatural for Jesus to treat this commission of the Twelve as both an explicit short-term itinerary and a paradigm of the longer mission stretching into the years ahead. For the latter, the Twelve need further instruction beyond those needed for the immediate tour, which they must see as, in part, an exercise anticipating something more. In this sense, the Twelve become a paradigm for other disciples in their post-Pentecost witness, a point Matthew understands (cf. 28:18–20); in this sense he intends that Matthew 10 should also speak to his readers.
The very fact that Matthew includes both what is historically specific in the first, short-term commission (e.g., restriction to Jews, certain clothing) and what is historically relevant only to the post-Pentecost church strongly supports his material’s authenticity. If he were simply addressing his own community, much of ch. 10 would be irrelevant. Attempts to get around this by envisaging a divided Matthean community of people for and against a Gentile mission (e.g., S. Brown, “The Two-fold Representation of the Mission in Matthew’s Gospel,” ST 31 [1977]: 21–32) are extremely speculative. Such a theory depends not only on a selective reading of the Gospels that judges inauthentic all evidence that refutes it but also on an evangelist abysmally incapable of editing his sources into a coherent whole. Yet Brown (“The Matthean Community and the Gentile Mission,” NovT 22 (1980): 194) writes, “The fact that contradictory missionary mandates are placed on Jesus’ lips is evidence enough that he himself took no position on this matter, one way or the other, and this is not surprising. Jesus took for granted that he and his disciples were sent to Israel.”
The presuppositions here are (1) that Jesus did not envisage a racially mixed church and (2) that the Gospels must be read as church documents that do not distinguish between Jesus’ day and the time of writing. The first point is repeatedly denied by all four gospels; the second is called into question by explicit “before/after” passages (e.g., Jn 2:20–22) and themes or titles. Jesus says and does many things in the Gospels before the cross and resurrection that are fully comprehensible only after these events. The real contrast between vv.5–16 and vv.17–42 is salvation-historical. There is implicit recognition that the two situations are not the same, but the first prepares for the second. This distinction is ascribed to Jesus and thus confirms that he saw a continuing community that would grow under fire. Moreover, there is evidence elsewhere that Jesus was prepared to discuss widely separate events within the same framework if those separate events were internally connected in some way (see 
If this second discourse is coherent, some account must be given of parallels scattered elsewhere in the Synoptics. Earlier discussion (see 

Suppose, for instance, that David Wenham is essentially right, and most of vv.5–42 comes from Q, conceived as a variety of sources, oral and written, of Jesus’ words. What historical conclusions does such a theory entail? The surprising answer is “Not much.” For it is possible that some sayings of Jesus, repeated by him often and on diverse occasions, were jotted down in a sort of amalgam form encapsulating their substance and then used by the evangelists in different contexts and adapted accordingly. Those contexts may well include the historical settings in which the teaching was first uttered. That would be easy to believe if the apostle Matthew really did compose the first gospel (see Introduction, ). Authorship does not necessarily affect the authority of any NT book. But it does affect the way the tradition descended and thereby limits the wildest form-critical speculation (see Introduction, ).
Although Wenham’s Q hypothesis may be challenged at many points on the ground that his argument turns on debatable judgments, yet the chief point is that the notion of Q sources behind vv.5–42 does not itself preclude the authenticity or unity of this discourse. A dozen variations could be shown to produce the same equivocal result. Problems arise only when theories regarding the contributing factors (authors, sources, context, redaction, historical reconstruction of Jesus’ life and of the early church) are so aligned as to produce a synthesis that quite unnecessarily contradicts the text or some part of it. This is extremely unfortunate when in fact the text is the only hard evidence we have.
It is not possible in small compass to demonstrate the many factors contributing to scholars’ diverse decisions in each passage of the mission discourse and how such factors may, taking full account of the hard evidence, come together in a way justifying Matthew’s presentation of this material as a discourse to the Twelve. While the following exposition focuses on the meaning of the text as it stands, a few hints are given as to how difficult source-critical and historical problems may be most profitably probed.
5aThese twelve Jesus sent out with the following instructions:
COMMENTARY
5a The setting Matthew gives must be accepted. Although he arranges much of his material topically, uses loose time connectives, and condenses his sources and sometimes paraphrases them, there is no convincing evidence that Matthew invents settings. Nor will appeal to some elusive genre suffice. If Matthew is a coherent writer, such nonhistorical material must be reasonably and readily separable from his historical material, if the alleged “genre” was recognizable to the first readers. Verse 5a could scarcely be clearer: “These twelve Jesus sent out with the following instructions.”
5b“Do not go among the Gentiles or enter any town of the Samaritans. 6Go rather to the lost sheep of Israel. 7As you go, preach this message: ‘The kingdom of heaven is near.’ 8Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy, drive out demons. Freely you have received, freely give. 9Do not take along any gold or silver or copper in your belts; 10take no bag for the journey, or extra tunic, or sandals or a staff; for the worker is worth his keep.
11“Whatever town or village you enter, search for some worthy person there and stay at his house until you leave. 12As you enter the home, give it your greeting. 13If the home is deserving, let your peace rest on it; if it is not, let your peace return to you. 14If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake the dust off your feet when you leave that home or town. 15I tell you the truth, it will be more bearable for Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for that town. 16I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves.”
COMMENTARY
5b–6 Jesus forbade the Twelve from taking the road to the Gentiles (see Notes)—presumably toward Tyre and Sidon in the north or the Decapolis in the east—and from visiting Samaritan towns in the south. They were to remain in Galilee, ministering to the people of Israel (v.6). Jews despised Samaritans, not only because they preserved a separate cult (cf. Jn 4:20), but also because they were a mixed race, made up partly of the poorest Jews who had been left in the land at the time of the exile and partly of Gentile peoples transported into the territory and with whom the remaining Jews had intermingled, thereby succumbing to some syncretism (cf. 2Ki 17:24–28; cf. ISBE, 4:2673–74). The Twelve were to restrict themselves to “the lost sheep of Israel.” This designation does not refer to a certain segment of the Jews (so Stendahl, “Matthew,” in Peake’s Commentary), since in the OT background (esp. Eze 34; see 
Why this restriction? In part it was probably because of pragmatic considerations. That Jesus felt it necessary to mention the Samaritans at all presupposes John 4. The disciples, happy in the exercise of their ability to perform miracles, might have been tempted to evangelize the Samaritans because they remembered Jesus’ success there. Judging by Luke 9:52–56, however, the Twelve were still temperamentally ill-equipped to minister to Samaritans. And even after Pentecost, despite an explicit command from the risen Lord (Ac 1:8), the church moved only hesitantly toward the Samaritans (Ac 8).
The most important consideration, however, was not pragmatic but theological. Jesus stood at the nexus in salvation history where as a Jew and the Son of David he came in fulfillment of his people’s history as their King and Redeemer. Yet his personal claims would offend so many of his own people that he would be rejected by all but a faithful remnant. Why increase their opposition by devoting time to Gentile ministry? His mission, as predicted, was worldwide in its ultimate aims (see 









On modern theories of the significance of vv.5–6, see 
7–8 The content of the disciples’ message was very much like that in 3:2; 4:17. “Repent” is not mentioned but is presupposed. The long-awaited kingdom was now “near” enough (see 


Jesus expected the Twelve to be supported by those to whom they were to minister (cf. vv.9–13; 1Co 9:14), but they needed to understand that what they had received—the good news of the kingdom, Jesus’ authority, and this commission—they had received “freely” (not “in large bounty”—though that was true—but gratis). Therefore it would have been mercenary to charge others (NEB: “You have received without cost; give without charge”; cf. Did. 11–13; Pirke Avot 1:13). The danger of profiteering is still among us (cf. Mic 3:11).
9–10 The imperative mē ktēsēsthe (“Do not take along”) more likely means “Do not procure” (as in Ac 1:18; 8:20; 22:28). Even then, the longer expression mē ktēsēsthe ... eis (“Do not procure ... with a view to [filling your belts]”) could mean either “Do not accept money [i.e., fill your money belt] for your ministry” or “Do not provide your belt with money when you start out.” The parallel in Mark 6:8 obviously means the latter. Gold, silver, and copper refer either to money or to a supply of the metals that could be exchanged for goods or money.
Mark permits “taking” (airō, GK 149) sandals and a staff (a walking stick) and forbids everything else (Mk 6:8–9); Matthew’s account forbids “procuring” (ktaomai, GK 3227) even sandals or a walking stick (10:10). It may be that Mark’s account clarifies what the disciples are permitted to bring, whereas Matthew’s assumes that the disciples already have certain things (one cloak, sandals, a walking stick) and forbids them from “procuring” anything more. Two cloaks (see 
What is clear is that the Twelve must travel unencumbered, relying on hospitality and God’s providence. The details ensure that the instructions were for that mission alone (cf. Lk 22:35–38) and confirm Matthew’s consciousness of the historicity of this part of the discourse.
11–13 To settle into the house of a “worthy” person implies that the disciples were not to shop around for the most comfortable quarters. Here “worthy” probably does not refer to a morally upright, honorable, or religious person but to one willing and able to receive an apostle of Jesus and the gospel of the kingdom (cf. Bonnard)—the opposite of “dogs” and “pigs” (7:6). As the disciples entered the house, they were to give it their “greeting.” Luke (10:5) gives us the actual words: “Peace to this house.” Neither Matthew nor Luke is introducing postresurrection notions of šālôm (“peace,” GK 8934), even though later Christians would be reminded of the peace Jesus achieved for them (Lk 24:36; Jn 14:27). Instead, the greeting prepares for v.13: “As you enter the home,” you are to give the normal greeting; but if the home turns out to be “unworthy” (as defined above), contrary to what you had been led to believe, then let your greeting of peace return to you (v.13); i.e., don’t stay. The Twelve were emissaries of Jesus. Those who received them received him (cf. v.40). Their greeting was of real value because of their relationship to him. Loss of their greeting was loss of their presence and therefore loss of Jesus. Potiphar’s household was blessed because of Joseph’s presence (Ge 39:3–5). How much more those homes that harbored the apostles of the Messiah!
14–15 What was true for the home applied equally to the town. A pious Jew, on leaving Gentile territory, might remove from his feet and clothes all the dust of the pagan land now being left behind (Str-B, 1:571), thus dissociating himself from the pollution of those lands and the judgment in store for them. For the disciples to do this to Jewish homes and towns would be a symbolic way of saying that the emissaries of Messiah now view those places as pagan, polluted, and liable to judgment (cf. Ac 13:51; 18:6). The actions, while outrageously shocking, accord with 8:11–12; 11:20–24.
Sodom and Gomorrah (v.15) faced catastrophic destruction because of their sin (Ge 19) and became bywords of loathsome corruption (Isa 1:9; Mt 11:22–24; Lk 17:29; Ro 9:29; 2Pe 2:6; Jude 7; cf. Jub. 36:10). Although there is still worse to come for them on the day of judgment, there is yet more awful judgment for those who reject the word and the messengers of the Messiah (cf. Heb 2:1–3).
16 The first part of v.16 has a close parallel in Luke 10:3, part of the commission to the seventy-two. Because it is short and aphoristic, it is impossible to be certain how many times Jesus said it. Here it links the preceding pericope with the following warnings about persecution. The verse goes as well with what succeeds as what precedes.
Jesus pictured his disciples, defenseless in themselves, located in a dangerous environment. This is where he himself was sending them. The shepherd in this metaphor sends his sheep into the wolf pack (cf. 7:15; Jn 10:12; Ac 20:29). Therefore they must be phronimoi (“shrewd,” GK 5861) as serpents, which in several ancient Near Eastern cultures were proverbial for prudence. But prudence can easily degenerate into cheap cunning unless it goes with simplicity. The disciples must prove not only “shrewd” but akeraioi (“innocent”; used elsewhere only in Ro 16:19; Php 2:15). Yet innocence becomes ignorance, even naïveté, unless combined with prudence.
The dove was not an established symbol. In Hosea 7:11, a dove is pictured as “easily deceived and senseless.” In a late midrash the serpent-dove contrast appears (“God saith to the Israelites: ‘Towards me they are sincere as doves, but toward the Gentiles they are cunning as serpents’” [Cant. Rab. 2:14]). Yet not only is this midrash late; the contrast is not at all what Jesus had in mind. His followers were to be not prudent toward outsiders and innocent toward God, but both prudent and innocent in their mission to outsiders. In this light the dove image becomes clear. Doves are retiring but not astute; they are easily ensnared by the fowler. So Jesus’ disciples, in their mission as sheep among wolves, must be “shrewd,” avoiding conflicts and attacks where possible, but they must also be “innocent,” i.e., not so cautious, suspicious, and cunning that circumspection degenerates into fear or elusiveness. The balance is difficult, but not a little of Jesus’ teaching combines such poles of meaning (see 
NOTES
5 The prohibition εἰς ὁδὸν ἐθνῶν μὴ ἀπέλθητε (eis hodon ethnōn mē apelthēte) means literally “Do not go away on the road of the Gentiles”—i.e., Do not go in the direction of (Aram.
leʾōraḥ) the Gentiles; “Do not take the road to Gentile lands” (NEB).
9–10 Though the distinction between κτάομαι (ktaomai, “procure”) and αἴρω (airō, “take”) may work in Matthew and Mark, it fails in Luke, who uses αἴρω, airō (as in Mark), but forbids a staff in 9:3 and sandals in 10:4. This suggests to Marshall (Gospel of Luke, 352–53) that Matthew and Luke depend on Q as opposed to Mark. That is possible. But the fact that Luke’s verb (airō) is the same as Mark’s calls it in question. Many solutions have been proposed, none altogether convincing (cf. E. Power, “The Staff of the Apostles: A Problem in Gospel Harmony,” Bib 4 [1923]: 241–66; Lagrange; Schniewind; Lane, Mark, 207–8). Perhaps the simplest is that Luke has not changed Mark but in both passages (Lk 9:3; 10:4) draws from Q, like Matthew; but in 9:3 Luke changes κτάομαι, ktaomai (“procure”), to αἴρω, airō (“take”), which has a semantic range large enough to mean the former, and in 10:4 changes κτάομαι, ktaomai, to βαστάζω (bastazō, “bear,” “carry,” GK 1002), the latter perhaps suggesting carrying some luggage: no “purse” (no “money”), no “bag” (no “luggage”), and no “sandals” (none carried). This suggestion is supported by the fact that the two verbs in Luke and the one in Matthew are all imperatives, unlike Mark’s subordinate construction and subjunctive mood. In other words, Matthew and Luke agree not only on what is permitted but on the grammatical construction. Luke’s only agreement with Mark is in one of his two verbs.
16 The pronoun ἐγώ (egō, “I”) is probably not emphatic, as ἰδοὺ ἐγώ (idou egō, lit., “behold I”) reflects a Semitic parallel that is not emphatic (cf. Turner, Syntax, 38).
REFLECTIONS
Once again the christological claim, though implicit, is unambiguous here. As in 7:21–23, Jesus insists that one’s eternal destiny turns on relationship to him or even to his emissaries. At the same time, even in their early ministry, Jesus’ apostles were to face the certainty of opposition—as did Jesus himself, rejected at Nazareth (13:53–58) and in Samaria (Lk 9:52–53), and not believed in the towns of Galilee (Mt 11:20–24). That early opposition pointed to the greater suffering still to come (vv.17–23) and also aligned the disciples of Jesus with the prophets of old (5:10–12) and with Jesus himself (10:24–25). Thus the disciples began to learn that the advance of the kingdom was divisive (vv.34–35; cf. 2Co 2:15–16) and would meet with violent opposition (see 
OVERVIEW
There are parallels in vv.17–25 both to 24:9, 13 and to Luke 6:40; 12:11–12; 21:12. Although it has often been affirmed, it is doubtful that Matthew has simply pulled back some material from the Olivet Discourse (see 
17“Be on your guard against men; they will hand you over to the local councils and flog you in their synagogues. 18On my account you will be brought before governors and kings as witnesses to them and to the Gentiles. 19But when they arrest you, do not worry about what to say or how to say it. At that time you will be given what to say, 20for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.”
COMMENTARY
17 The de (untranslated in NIV) does not have adversative force. It merely connects this warning with the aphorism in v.16, showing how it is to be applied. The men who will hand over the disciples must be Jews, as the context is the synagogue; and so the persecution envisaged is Jewish persecution of Christians (unlike v.18). The synedria (“local councils,” plural only here in the NT), which could be civic or synagogal, were charged with preserving the peace. That flogging is used for punishment, rather than the broader term “beating,” implies that the opposition is not mob violence but the result of judicial action (Hare, Theme of Jewish Persecution, 104). Moreover, Jesus is envisaging a time before the absolute separation of church and synagogue has taken place, for synagogue floggings (cf. 23:34; Mk 13:9; Ac 22:19; cf. 2Co 11:24–25) were most easily inflicted on synagogue members. At a later period, the worshipers would sometimes sing a psalm while the flogging took place. But there is no evidence this was practiced in NT times. In any case, we are reminded of the slowness with which Jewish Christians withdrew from broader Jewish worship in the post-Pentecost period.
The reference to “their” synagogues is often interpreted as an anachronism, reflecting the church-synagogue polarity (see 





18 As the witness would extend at some future time beyond Galilee and the Jewish race, so also the opposition. “Governors” (hēgemonas, rulers and magistrates at various levels) and “kings” make this clear. As in 8:4 and 24:14, the “witness” is not against people but to them; it becomes either the means by which they accept the truth or, when they reject it, a condemnation. The disciples would be harassed and persecuted, not on account of who they are but on account of who Christ is (see 
19–20 The translation of paradidōmi (lit., “hand over,” as in v.17, GK 4140) as “arrest” is doubtful. The subject is ambiguous. “People,” “opponents,” or “Jewish leaders” could be “handing over” the disciples to the Gentile authorities. Later on, this happened to Paul and other Christians, who at first witnessed to their faith with relative impunity under the Roman laws granting exemptions from emperor worship to Jews, but fell victim to increasing Roman wrath as the Jews progressively denied any link between themselves and Christians.
Confronting a high Roman official would be far more terrifying to Jewish believers than confronting a synagogue council. High officials, even when hated, were accorded far greater respect than in modern democracies; and they used professional orator-lawyers in legal matters (e.g., Tertullus, Ac 24:1). But if Jesus warned his disciples of dangers, he also promised them help. The Spirit would speak through them when the time came; so they should not fret about their response. This promise is neither a sop for lazy preachers nor equivalent to the promises given the Twelve in the farewell discourse (Jn 14–16) that the Spirit would recall to their memory all they had heard from Jesus (Jn 14:16, 26). It is a pledge to believers who have been brought before tribunals because of their witness. The promised assistance does not assume an absolute disjunction between “you” and the “Spirit” (10:20), for the underlying Semitic disjunction is rarely absolute (e.g., Ge 45:8; Ex 16:8; cf. Zerwick, Biblical Greek, para. 445). The history of Christian martyrs is studded with examples of the fulfillment of this promise.
Unlike Luke, Matthew does not often mention the Spirit. But from other passages in his gospel, it is clear that he associates the Spirit with the kingdom’s dramatic coming (3:11; 12:28, 31) and the church’s witness (28:18–20). That same Spirit, “the Spirit of your Father,” would provide Jesus’ followers with the help they needed under persecution when facing hostile officials.
21“Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child; children will rebel against their parents and have them put to death. 22All men will hate you because of me, but he who stands firm to the end will be saved. 23When you are persecuted in one place, flee to another. I tell you the truth, you will not finish going through the cities of Israel before the Son of Man comes.”
COMMENTARY
21–22 It is not enough for Jesus’ disciples to be opposed by Jewish and Gentile officialdom. They will be hounded and betrayed by their own family members (see vv.34–39). The theme of division between persons as a sign of the end is not unknown in Jewish apocalyptic literature (4 Ezra 5:9; Jub. 23:19; 2 Bar. 70:3—though none of these refer explicitly to family divisions). Here the allusion is to Micah 7:6, quoted in Matthew 10:35–36. “All men” (v.22) does not mean “all men without exception,” for then there would be no converts, but “all men without distinction”—all men irrespective of race, color, or creed. That the good news of the kingdom of God and his righteousness should elicit such intense and widespread hostility is a sad commentary on “all men.” The hatred erupts, Jesus says, dia to onoma mou (lit., “on account of my name”)—either because one bears the name “Christian” (cf. 1Pe 4:14) or, less anachronistically and more likely, “on account of me” (see 
The one who “stands firm”—the verb hypomenō (GK 5702) does not signify active resistance so much as patient endurance (cf. Da 12:12 LXX; Mk 13:13; Ro 12:12; 1Pe 2:20)—will be saved; but he must stand firm eis telos (“to the end”). Though this anarthrous expression could be taken adverbially to mean “without breaking down,” it is far more likely purposely ambiguous to mean either “to the end of one’s life” or, because of the frequent association of telos (“end,” GK 5465) and cognates with the eschatological end, “to the end of the age.” This is not to say that only martyrs will be saved; but if the opposition one of Jesus’ disciples faces calls for the sacrifice of life itself, commitment to him must be so strong that the sacrifice is willingly made. Otherwise there is no salvation. Thus from earliest times Christians have been crucified, burned, impaled, drowned, starved, racked—for no other reason than that they belonged to him. As with martyrs among God’s people before the coming of Jesus, so now: the world was not worthy of them (Heb 11:38).
23 This verse is among the most difficult in the NT canon. The textual variants (cf. Metzger, Textual Commentary, 28) are complex but affect the main interpretive questions little. Ulrich Luz includes an admirable survey of major options.
1. Some have understood the coming of the Son of Man to refer to a coming of the historical Jesus in the wake of the mission of the Twelve as in the mission of the seventy-two (Lk 10:1). The focus of attention has thus reverted back to the immediate commission (Mt 10:5b–16). Jesus is telling the Twelve to “get a move on,” because they will not have visited the cities of Israel before he “comes” to them—i.e., catches up with them. This view has been elegantly defended by J. Dupont (“‘Vous n’aurez pas achevé les villes d’Israël ...’ [Matt. 10:23],” NovT 2 [1958]: 228–44), who points out that elsewhere Matthew can bring the title “Son of Man” back (from 16:21 to 16:13) to a new location where it is equivalent to no more than a sonorous “I” (assuming his source is Mk 8:27, 31). Dupont suggests that in Matthew’s source, 10:23 was read after 10:5–6, which would confirm his interpretation. This view, therefore, turns in part on finding a source common to Matthew 10:23 and Luke 10:1—presumably a Q tradition—and this possibility has been strengthened somewhat by the source-critical arguments of H. Schürmann (“Zur Traditions- und Redaktionsgeschichte von Mt 10:23,” BZ 3 [1959]: 82–88) and David Wenham (Rediscovery of Jesus’ Eschatological Traditions), who try to show that Matthew 10:23 springs from Q. The arguments are unconvincing. In Wenham’s case, they hinge on the assertion that v.23 is awkward because the literary parallel with vv.19–20 is inexact (v.23 uses the verb “persecute” instead of the verb “hand over”). But it is not at all clear why Matthew should use the same verb. Most Semitic parallelism depends on small verbal changes.
Wenham argues that v.23 “seems something of an afterthought in its present position following the climactic ‘he who endures to the end shall be saved.’” But v.23 is anticlimactic only if the coming of the Son of Man refers exclusively to Jesus’ follow-up ministry. If, instead, Jesus in v.22 is enjoining perseverance amid suffering witness, in clear reference to a post-Pentecost setting, then the persecution in v.23 should be similarly interpreted. The disciples’ perseverance to the end does not mean withdrawal but moving on from city to city until the Son of Man comes. In this light, v.23 is still difficult but certainly not anticlimactic.
Indeed, this first interpretation fails to come to grips with two major hurdles. It fails to explain adequately why Matthew should move a comprehensible saying from a location following vv.5–6 (or even v.14) and place it here, where (we must implausibly suppose) the verse has nothing to do with its immediate context. Moreover, the geographical territory to be covered (see 
2. Some take “the Son of Man’s coming” to refer to the public identification of Jesus as the Messiah, presumably at the resurrection (Sabourin) or shortly after. Not only would this be an odd use of the expression, but the interpretation fails to show how the disciples were actually persecuted up to that time, or how there could be any urgency in such a deadline. Older commentators follow a similar line, exchanging the coming of the Spirit (Jn 14:16, 23–26) for the resurrection (e.g., Chrysostom, Calvin, Beza). But we have noted that the Spirit is not a major theme in Matthew (see 
3. Others take the verse to refer to the second coming, equivalent to 24:30; 25:31; 26:64 (Turner). Although some would argue the point (see 
4. At the turn of the century, Schweitzer (Quest of the Historical Jesus, 358ff.) used this text to develop his “thoroughgoing eschatology.” He argued that v.23b shows that Jesus believed the end of time would take place so soon that he did not expect to see the disciples return before the end arrived. Jesus was wrong, of course, and therefore had to adjust his own theology. This was the first “delay of the Parousia.” Unfortunately, Jesus was also wrong in expecting God to exonerate him before he died. Therefore, the church was forced to adjust its theology to accommodate these errors; and only a few traces of Jesus’ earliest teachings, such as this passage, still peep unambiguously through the text. This view is well criticized by Kümmel (Promise and Fulfillment, 61ff.).
5. A combination of the last two views is now espoused by several scholars (e.g., Fenton, Hill) who think v.23b refers to the second coming and that Jesus expected it within one generation or so (see 
6. Dispensationalists are inclined to see v.23b as a reference to the second coming that “views the entire present church age as a parenthesis not taken into account in this prophecy” (Walvoord). Quite apart from the correctness or otherwise of the entire theological structure presupposed by this interpretation, it detaches v.23 from its context (if vv.16–22 refer to post-Pentecost Christian experience—so Walvoord) or else detaches vv.16–23 from their context (if the verses do not apply to any of Jesus’ disciples but to believers living during the tribulation after the church has been raptured away). There is no exegetical warrant for either detachment, and both would be incomprehensible, not only to Jesus’ hearers, but also to the first readers of Matthew’s gospel.
7. The “coming of the Son of Man” here refers to his coming in judgment against the Jews, culminating in the sack of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple (so France, Jesus and the Old Testament, 140; Feuillet, “Les origines,” 182–98; Moule, Birth of the New Testament, 90; J. A. T. Robinson, Jesus and His Coming [London: SCM Press, 1957], 80, 91–92). Calvin thinks this interpretation farfetched, Hill that it is improbable. A powerful case, though, can be made for it. The coming of the Son of Man refers to the same event as the coming of the kingdom, even though the two expressions are conceptually complementary. Thus the coming of the Son of Man brings in the consummated kingdom (see 




Against this background the coming of the Son of Man in v.23 marks that stage in the coming of the kingdom in which the judgment repeatedly foretold falls on the Jews. With it the temple cultus disappears, and the new wine necessarily takes to new wineskins (see 

Above all, this interpretation makes contextual sense of v.23. The connection is not with v.22 alone but with vv.17–22, which picture the suffering witness of the church in the post-Pentecost period during a time when many of Jesus’ disciples are still bound up with the synagogue. During that period, Jesus says in v.23, his disciples must not use the opposition to justify quitting or bravado. Far from it. When they face persecution, they must take it as no more than a signal for strategic withdrawal to the next city (W. Barclay, The Gospel of Matthew [Philadelphia: Westminster, 1975], 1:378–80), where witness must continue, for the time is short. They will not have finished evangelizing the cities of Israel before the Son of Man comes in judgment on Israel.
Interpreted in this way the “Son of Man” saying of v.23 belongs to the eschatological category (see 


24“A student is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master. 25It is enough for the student to be like his teacher, and the servant like his master. If the head of the house has been called Beelzebub, how much more the members of his household!”
COMMENTARY
24–25 The two brief analogies in vv.24–25a occur in various forms elsewhere in the NT (Lk 6:40; Jn 13:16; 15:20) and in Jewish literature (b. Ber. 58b). Like many good proverbs, they could be applied variously by capable preachers. Here Jesus forbids the disciples from being surprised when they suffer persecution. If they follow him, they should expect no less. The statement reveals something of Jesus’ perception of the nature of his own ministry and of the way the “gospel of the kingdom” will advance in the world.
Those who deny the authenticity of vv.24–25a and other passages in which Jesus speaks implicitly of his sufferings do so not on literary evidence but on the basis of a priori decisions about what Jesus could and could not have known.
The insult “Beelzebub” (or, to preserve the best orthography, Beelzeboul) has an uncertain derivation. In the NT, the term occurs only here and at 12:24, 27; Mk 3:22, Lk 11:15, 18–19. It may have come from OT Hebrew baʿalzebûb (“lord of flies”), a mocking takeoff of baʿal zebûl (“Prince Baal”), a pagan deity (2Ki 1:2–3, 16). But in that case, one wonders why the final syllable has been changed in NT Greek to boul. Other derivations include a mocking “lord of dung” and “lord of the heights” (heaven). One of the best suggestions is that of E. C. B. MacLaurin (“Beelzeboul,” NovT 20 [1978]: 156–60), who shows it may well be a straightforward translation of oikodespotēs (NIV, “head of the house”). Beelzeboul is recognized in the NT as the prince of the demons and identified with Satan (12:24–27; Mk 3:22–26, Lk 11:18–19). Thus the real head of the house, Jesus, who heads the household of God, is being willfully confused with the head of the house of demons. The charge is shockingly vile—the Messiah himself rejected as Satan! If so, why should his disciples expect less?
This verse has not been constructed by the evangelist out of bits from 12:22–32, as if the charge were leveled at Jesus only the once. On the contrary, 9:34 suggests that it was a frequent slur.
OVERVIEW
Probably vv.26–27 are also transitional, like v.16. Consideration of how disciples must expect to face persecution and opprobrium makes it necessary to say something about how to handle fear (vv.26–31) and about the high standards of discipleship such a perspective presupposes. There are similar sayings elsewhere (cf. Lk 12:2–9; see also Mk 4:22; 8:38; Lk 9:26; 21:18). Yet there is no easy source pattern (cf. Hill), and most of the individual sayings are brief, easily memorized, and usable again and again.
26“So do not be afraid of them. There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known. 27What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs.”
COMMENTARY
26–27 “Them” refers to the persecutors (v.23). The connective oun (“so”) may simply begin a new exhortation based on the preceding (Bonnard), or it may offer a tighter connection: in view of a master who suffers ahead of his disciples, therefore do not fear, etc. The truth must emerge. The gospel and its outworkings in the disciples may not now be visible to all, but nothing will remain hidden forever. And if the truth will emerge at the end, how wise to declare it fully and boldly now. Flat rooftops of Palestinian houses provided excellent places for speakers (cf. Josephus, J.W. 2.611 [21.5]). In a sense, the apostles were to have more of a public ministry than Jesus himself. He told them things in private, some of which they did not even understand until after the resurrection (see Reflections, 
28“Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell.”
COMMENTARY
28 The second reason for learning not to fear men emerges from the fact that the worst they can do does not match the worst God can do. Though Satan may have great power (6:13; 24:22), only God can destroy soul and body in hell. “The fear of the LORD is” therefore “the beginning of wisdom” (Pr 9:10), for if God be truly feared, none other need be. Fear of men proves to be a snare (Pr 29:25). The same thought is found in extracanonical Jewish literature (e.g., Wis 16:13–14; 2 Macc 6:26; 4 Macc 13:14–15).
On “hell,” see 
29“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. 30And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.”
COMMENTARY
29–31 The third reason for not being afraid is an a fortiori argument: If God’s providence is so all-embracing that not even a sparrow drops from the sky apart from the will of God, cannot that same God be trusted to extend his providence over Jesus’ disciples? The sparrow was used for food by very poor people. Two might be sold for “a penny” (one-sixteenth of a denarius, which was about a day’s wage; cf. Deissmann, Light from the Ancient East, 272–75). “Your Father” adds a piquant touch: this God of all providence is the disciples’ Father. God’s sovereignty is not limited only to life-and-death issues; even the hairs of our heads are counted. Jesus’ third argument against fear is thus the very opposite of what is commonly advanced. People say that God cares about the big things but not about little details. But Jesus says that God’s sovereignty over the tiniest detail should give us confidence that he also superintends the larger matters.
32“Whoever acknowledges me before men, I will also acknowledge him before my Father in heaven. 33But whoever disowns me before men, I will disown him before my Father in heaven.”
COMMENTARY
32–33 Many assume that Matthew here edits Mark 8:38, which was addressed to a crowd (cf. Lk 12:8–9). But Mark’s words have a structure that has led to much of the debate over the “Son of Man” question.
the Son of Man will confess ...
Whoever disowns (or is ashamed of) me ...
the Son of Man will disown (or be ashamed of) ...
This ABAB parallelism has induced many, especially since Bultmann (History of the Synoptic Tradition, 112, 128), to argue that the historical Jesus distinguished the Son of Man from himself (see 
Though addressed to the Twelve (vv.1–5), like much of vv.17–42, this saying looks beyond the apostles to disciples at large. The point is made clear by “whoever” (v.32). A necessary criterion for being a disciple of Jesus is to acknowledge him publicly (cf. Ro 1:16; 10:9). This will vary in boldness, fluency, wisdom, sensitivity, and frequency from believer to believer (cf. Calvin); but consistently to disown Christ (same verb as in 26:69–75) is to be disowned by Christ. Jesus now speaks not of “your Father” (as in v.29) but of “my Father.” In view is his special filial relationship with the Father, by which the final destiny of all humanity depends solely on his word (see 
NOTES
32 The rather strange Greek ὁμολογήσει ἐν ἐμοί (homologēsei en emoi, “acknowledge me,” GK 3933) is perfectly natural Aramaic (but not Heb.); cf. Moulton, Grammar: Accidence, 463; Moule, Idiom Book, 183.
34“Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. 35For I have come to turn
a daughter against her mother,
a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law—
36a man’s enemies will be the members of his own household.’”
COMMENTARY
34–36 As many Jews in Jesus’ day thought the coming of Messiah would bring them political peace and material prosperity, so today many in the church think that Jesus’ presence will bring them a kind of tranquility. But Jesus insisted that his mission entailed strife and division. Prince of Peace though he is (see 
The repeated statement “I have come” shows Jesus’ christological and eschatological awareness (contra Arens, ῏Ηλθον-sayings, 63–90, who uses the same evidence to argue that such elements must be church creations). Earlier he warned his disciples of the world’s hatred of his followers, a hatred extending even to close relatives (vv.21–22); now he ties this perspective to an OT analogy (Mic 7:6; on the text form, see Stendahl, School of St. Matthew, 90–91; Blomberg, “Matthew,” in CNTUOT, 35–37). Micah describes the sinfulness and rebellion in the days of King Ahaz, but insofar as Jesus’ disciples by following him align themselves with the prophets (5:10–12), the situation in Micah’s time points to the greater division at Messiah’s coming. Many critics think these verses apply solely to Christians in Matthew’s day, and doubtless they caused Matthew’s readers to think of their own sufferings. But some older commentators (e.g., Plumptre) wonder whether the Twelve, even during Jesus’ earthly ministry, did not face some opposition from family and friends—as did Jesus himself (13:53–58; Jn 7:3–5). In any case, the context suggests Jesus is focusing on the future. Even today the situation has not greatly eased. In the “liberal” West, people who have become Christians have occasionally been disowned and disinherited by their families and have lost their jobs. And under totalitarian regimes of the right or the left there has been and still is untold suffering for Christ—witness Christians in southern Sudan and in some islands of Indonesia.
37“Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; 38and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. 39Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”
COMMENTARY
37–39 The absolutism of the Semitic idiom (Lk 14:26) is rightly interpreted by Matthew: a man must love his wife, family, friends, and even his enemies (see 

The appeal is not to gloom but to discipleship. There is a strong paradox here. Those who lose their psychē (“soul,” “life”—see 
OVERVIEW
The foregoing teaching about what it means to be a disciple of Jesus has its darker side. This final section of the discourse is more encouraging. It reverts again to the ultimate tie between the treatment of Jesus and that of his followers (see 

40“He who receives you receives me, and he who receives me receives the one who sent me. 41Anyone who receives a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and anyone who receives a righteous man because he is a righteous man will receive a righteous man’s reward. 42And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple, I tell you the truth, he will certainly not lose his reward.”
COMMENTARY
40–42 It is commonly understood in the NT that a man’s agent must be received as the man himself (cf. Lk 10:16; Jn 12:44–45; 13:20; Ac 9:4). And as this section closes the discourse that opens with instructions to the Twelve, many interpret “prophet” and “righteous man” (v.41) as alternative designations of the apostles in v.40, and v.42 as an extension to all disciples (e.g., Bonnard; Allen; Manson, Sayings of Jesus, 183). By contrast, David Hill (“Δίκαιοι as a Quasi-Technical Term,” NTS 11 [1964–65]: 296–303) has advanced another interpretation. He suggests that both “prophets” and “righteous men” refer to distinguishable classes within Christianity. “Prophets” are distinguishable from “apostles,” and “righteous men” refers to some other distinguishable group of teachers (cf. 13:17; 23:29; see 
A better synthesis is possible. As the discourse, viewed as a whole, moves from the Twelve to all believers, so also does its conclusion. Verse 40 probably refers primarily to the apostles, and vv.41–42 move through “prophets” and “righteous men” down to “these little ones”—namely, the least in the kingdom, seen as persecuted witnesses in the latter part of the discourse. The order “descends” only according to prominence. But the classes mentioned are not mutually exclusive, since “these little ones” surely includes the apostles, prophets, and righteous men; they are all “little ones” because they are all targets of the world’s enmity. To give a cup of cold freshly drawn water, the least courtesy demands, to the least disciple just because he is a disciple does not go unrewarded. Thus the “little ones” are not portrayed as a special class of “traveling missionaries” (contra Hill) but as disciples. “Prophets” are referred to, not because Christian prophets are in view, but because this is an already accepted category for God’s spokesmen and for those with whom Jesus’ followers are aligned (5:10–12).
“Righteous men” is more difficult. But in two of the three passages where the term occurs in connection with “prophets” (13:17; 23:29), it must refer to righteous men of earlier generations—OT and perhaps Maccabean figures, not Christian contemporaries of Matthew, and not traveling teachers. It seems best to take the term here from the same perspective. None of Hill’s evidence points unambiguously to a class of teachers known as “righteous men.” Most of his Dead Sea Scrolls evidence (1QS 3:20, 22; 5:2, 9; 9:14; 1QSa 1:2, 24; 2:3) clearly demonstrates that the sectarians perceived themselves as “the righteous” over against other men. Moreover, it is far from certain that Daniel 12:3 refers to a part of the people of God with a special assignment to teach righteousness. Even there it is easy to detect a reference to all of God’s people. After all, “righteousness” is a category already used in Matthew to describe all of Jesus’ disciples (5:20).
Some scholars have been too eager to read anachronisms into the text and detect special groups on the basis of slender evidence. In reality, v.40, though very general, applies in the first instance to the Twelve; v.41 repeats the aphorism twice more using OT categories familiar to Jesus but extending the application from prophets to all of God’s righteous people. Verse 42 groups the previous aphorisms together to make it quite clear that the sole reason for rewarding those who treat Jesus’ disciples well is not that they are prophets or righteous people—they are in fact but “little ones”—but that they are Jesus’ disciples. The prophet’s reward and the righteous man’s reward are therefore not disparate but kingdom rewards (see 
NOTES
41–42 The expression εἰς ὄνομα προφήτου (eis onoma prophētou, “because he is a prophet”), with its parallels, is an instance of the causal use of εἰς, eis (cf. Zerwick, Biblical Greek, para. 98, 106; contra M. J. Harris, NIDNTT, 3:1187). Some hold this is important in understanding Matthew’s baptismal formula, but see 
1After Jesus had finished instructing his twelve disciples, he went on from there to teach and preach in the towns of Galilee.
COMMENTARY
1 For the significance of the formulas that end Jesus’ discourses, see 

1 The pronoun αὐτῶν (autōn; NIV text note, “their”) is exceptionally awkward here. It cannot refer to the apostles but to the Galileans, not mentioned in the context. Nor can this easily be taken as an anachronistic distinction between church and synagogue. Most likely it is an instance of pronominal sense construction not uncommon in then contemporary secular Greek and found throughout the NT (cf. Turner, Insights, 149–50). If so, it is especially important not to be hasty in reading church/synagogue anachronisms into other similar passages (see 



