b. The first passion prediction (16:21–23)

b. The first passion prediction (16:21–23)

OVERVIEW

The danger of outlines is oversimplification. Even genuine insight in outline form may eliminate or minimize various themes that occur in sections where the discovered “structure” does not allow for them. Matthew, as we have seen, can use structure effectively, and several complex structures have been found in, or imposed on, these chapters (cf. J. Murphy-O’Conner, “The Structure of Matthew XIV–XVII,” RB 82 [1975]: 360–84; Gooding, “Structure littéraire,” 248ff.). No detailed and comprehensive outline of these chapters is quite convincing; so it seems best to deal with them pericope by pericope.

The principal themes of these chapters are clear. There is a progressive polarization along several axes. As Jesus extends his ministry, the opposition sharpens (15:1–9; 16:1–14). When he reveals himself to his disciples, they clearly perceive some truth and entirely reject other truth (16:13–22; 17:1–13). As Jesus is increasingly opposed by Jewish leaders, so his own disciples become increasingly important (18:1–10). Over it all is the contrast between Christ’s glory, goodness, and grace and the blind misunderstanding of the disciples (15:15–16, 33; 16:22; 17:4, 19; 18:21) and Jewish leaders (15:2, 8; 16:6, 12; 17:24) alike. And rising less ambiguously now is the shadow of the cross (16:21–22; 17:22–23).

OVERVIEW

In this section (13:54–17:27), Matthew follows Mark 6–9 fairly closely until Mark 9:33. Of course, Matthew leaves out all the material between Mark’s parables and the rejection at Nazareth (namely, Mk 4:35–5:43) because he has presented it earlier (chs. 8–9).

OVERVIEW

Placing this pericope immediately after the discourse on parables extends the hostility and rejection of the scribes and Pharisees even to Jesus’ hometown (cf. Mk 6:1–6). It is almost universally assumed that this is the same rejection recorded in Luke 4:16–30, which ties the event to OT prophecy. Though not unlikely, this is not certain. Unlike Luke, Mark and Matthew mention no hostility so great as to lead people to kill Jesus. If there were two incidents, the one recorded by the first two evangelists may reflect an abating of instinctive rage as the village’s most famous son has grown in reputation in the area.

54Coming to his hometown, he began teaching the people in their synagogue, and they were amazed. “Where did this man get this wisdom and these miraculous powers?” they asked. 55“Isn’t this the carpenter’s son? Isn’t his mother’s name Mary, and aren’t his brothers James, Joseph, Simon and Judas? 56Aren’t all his sisters with us? Where then did this man get all these things?” 57And they took offense at him.

But Jesus said to them, “Only in his hometown and in his own house is a prophet without honor.”

58And he did not do many miracles there because of their lack of faith.

COMMENTARY

54 On the formal connection between this verse and the preceding one, see

Jesus’ patris (“hometown,” GK 4258) is here understood to be Nazareth, explicitly named only by Luke (4:16; cf. Mt 2:23; 4:13). That Jesus taught extensively in the synagogues is certain (cf. 4:23; 12:9); but he did not limit himself to this environment. (On “their” synagogue, see

The interrogative pothen (“where”; repeated in v.56) is not so much concerned with location as with source of authority (cf. v.27; see Bonnard). Do Jesus’ wisdom and powers—his teaching and miracles, both evidences of his authority—reflect God’s authority or something else (cf. 12:24)?

55–57a Obviously some of the questioners’ motivation springs less from a serious desire to know whence Jesus derives his authority than from personal pique that a hometown boy has outstripped them. The questions (vv.55–56) do not call for answers but merely reveal that there has already been a denial of who Jesus is. Mark 6:3 has “the carpenter,” not Matthew’s “the carpenter’s son” (v.55); but in a day when most lads followed their father’s trade, both are correct. Tektōn can mean “carpenter”—one who works with wood—or perhaps even “builder,” in a time and place when most homes were made of mud brick. Justin Martyr (Dial. 88.8, ca. AD 150) says Jesus was a maker of plows and yokes. The definite article (“the carpenter’s son”) suggests there was only one in town.

On the question of Jesus’ brothers and sisters, see

In one sense, of course, the questions of the people are understandable, if not justifiable. Here was a young artisan from a rough town, with no special breeding or education. Whence, then, his wisdom and miracles? (Incidentally, their questions render impossible the fanciful miracles ascribed to Jesus’ childhood by the apocryphal gospels.) But by their questions the people merely condemn themselves: they cannot doubt the fact of his wisdom and miracles (v.56), yet they reject his claims (v.57). “They took offense at him” (eskandalizonto en autō), i.e., found in him obstacles to faith (see

57b–58 The proverb in v.57b recurs at Mark 6:4; Luke 4:24; John 4:44 (cf. Hennecke, New Testament Apocrypha, 1:109). Most often a person is better received at home than anywhere else, but if he enjoys an elevated position, the reverse is true.

Many say that v.58 softens Mark’s “He could not do any miracles there, except lay his hands on a few sick people and heal them. And he was amazed at their lack of faith” (Mk 6:5–6). But two factors must be borne in mind: (1) Mark mentions some miracles, and Matthew, typically condensing, may be referring to these rather than commenting on Jesus’ ability to do miracles; and (2) it is doubtful whether Mark’s “could not” is ontological or absolute, for Mark records other miracles in which the beneficiaries exhibit no faith (feeding the five thousand, stilling the storm, healing the Gerasene demoniac). The “could not” is related to Jesus’ mission: just as Jesus could not turn stones to bread without violating his mission (4:14), so he could not do miracles indiscriminately without turning his mission into a sideshow. The “lack of faith” (apistia, GK 602, used only here in Matthew) of the people was doubtless a source of profound grief and frustration for Jesus (cf. apistos, “unbelieving,” in 17:17) rather than something that stripped him of power.

NOTES

55 Many MSS read ᾽Ιωσῆς (Iōsēs; KJV, “Joses”) instead of ᾽Ιωσήφ (Iōsēph; NIV, “Joseph”), doubtless following the Galilean pronunciation (yôsê) of the correct Hebrew (yôsēp).

56 The phrase πρὸς ἡμᾶς (pros hēmas, “with us”) with the sense of position instead of motion (i.e., having the force of παρ᾽ ἡμῖν [par’ hēmin, “with us”]) represents a Hellenistic Greek far more fluid than its Attic forbear (cf. Moule, Idiom Book, 52).

1At that time Herod the tetrarch heard the reports about Jesus, 2and he said to his attendants, “This is John the Baptist; he has risen from the dead! That is why miraculous powers are at work in him.”

COMMENTARY

1–2 Of the two parallels (Mk 6:14–16; Lk 9:7–9), only Mark (6:17–29) goes on to give the story of John’s death; and Matthew follows this account (14:3–12). On the chronological problem raised by a comparison of vv.1–2 and v.13, see

The phrase “at that time” is very loose (see

Herod Antipas, son of Herod the Great (see

How the reports of Jesus’ ministry reached Herod is unknown; it may have been through Cuza (Lk 8:3). So extensive a ministry could not have been kept from Herod for long. His conclusion, that this was John the Baptist risen from the dead (v.2), is of great interest. It reflects an eclectic set of beliefs, one of them the Pharisaic understanding of resurrection. During his ministry John had performed no miracles (Jn 10:41); therefore Herod ascribes the miracles in Jesus’ ministry not to John but to John “risen from the dead.” Herod’s guilty conscience apparently combined with a superstitious view of miracles to generate this theory.

3Now Herod had arrested John and bound him and put him in prison because of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, 4for John had been saying to him: “It is not lawful for you to have her.” 5Herod wanted to kill John, but he was afraid of the people, because they considered him a prophet.

6On Herod’s birthday the daughter of Herodias danced for them and pleased Herod so much 7that he promised with an oath to give her whatever she asked. 8Prompted by her mother, she said, “Give me here on a platter the head of John the Baptist.” 9The king was distressed, but because of his oaths and his dinner guests, he ordered that her request be granted 10and had John beheaded in the prison. 11His head was brought in on a platter and given to the girl, who carried it to her mother. 12John’s disciples came and took his body and buried it. Then they went and told Jesus.

COMMENTARY

3–5 Both Mark (6:16–29; cf. Lk 3:19–20) and Matthew insert this story as an excursus, a bit of explanatory background (see

Herod’s first wife was the daughter of Aretas (cf. 2Co 11:32), Arabian king of the Nabateans, whose land adjoined Perea on the south. To divorce her in favor of Herodias was politically explosive (see R. L. Webb, John the Baptizer and Prophet: A Socio-Historical Study [Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991], 368). Indeed, some years later, border fighting broke out, and Antipas was defeated, but saved by Roman intervention. John’s rebuke would be like a spark on tinder; and his powerful preaching about the nearness of the messianic kingdom fueled the expectations of the populace, not least for the reestablishment of the law by which John was rebuking Herod. Religious fanaticism with messianic overtones is more politically dangerous than mere political extremism. This Herod well knew. Josephus and the gospel writers blend together.

Herodias was married to Herod Philip (not Philip the tetrarch, Lk 3:1), son of Herod the Great and Mariamne II (for this identification, see Hoehner, Herod Antipas, 131–36), and therefore half brother to Herod Antipas. John probably did not denounce Antipas for divorcing his former wife, an action probably judged allowable (cf. b. Ketub. 57b; Jeremias, Jerusalem, 371 n. 60), but for incestuously marrying his half brother’s wife (Lev 18:16; 20:21); and John probably kept on repeating his rebuke. John’s courage in denouncing Herod distinguishes him from the Essenes (with whom many scholars associate him), for they tended to refuse to meddle in political life, no matter how evil it became (Bonnard). Herodias was not only Antipas’s sister-in-law but also his niece, the daughter of his half brother Aristobulus; but for most Jews there was no bar to marrying a niece (see Hoehner, pp. 137–39 n. 4, for the literature). The larger offense may have sprung from the ritual impurity of marrying a brother’s wife (while the brother was still alive; see Lev 20:21; cf. Webb, John the Baptizer, 366–67).

Some think Matthew’s statement that “Herod wanted to kill John, but he was afraid of the people” (v.5) conflicts with Mark’s picture of a Herod who wants to spare John but is pushed into killing him by Herodias (cf. Mk 6:19–21). The total situation is psychologically convincing. Like Ahab, Antipas was wicked but weak, and Herodias, like Jezebel, was wicked and ruthless. Herod’s grief (not mere distress) in v.9 shows his ambivalence. Moreover, if he was “afraid of the people” because they held John to be a prophet (cf. 21:26, 46), then Matthew confirms Josephus’s view that Herod’s actions were largely motivated by politics.

6–8 “On Herod’s birthday” (or, better, “At Herod’s birthday feast” [see Notes]), Herodias’s daughter by her former marriage, Salome, a girl between twelve and fourteen years of age (Hoehner, Herod Antipas, 151–56), danced before the king and his lords (v.6). The dance may have been very sensual, but the text does not say so. The outrageous morals of the Herodians suggest it, as does the low status of dancing girls. At any rate, Salome pleased Herod Antipas enough for him to put on the airs of a lavish and powerful emperor; petty ruler though he was, he imitated the grandiloquence of ancient Persian monarchs (Est 5:3, 6; 7:2)—the story also has certain parallels with a later oath made by the Roman emperor Gaius to Herod Agrippa (cf. Hoehner, pp. 165–67)—and with drunken dignity made a fool of himself. Salome, still young enough to ask her mother’s advice, became the means for accomplishing Herodias’s darkest desire—the death of the man whose offense had been telling the truth.

9–11 Though grieving because of his oath (the Greek is plural but refers to the single oath Herod had made: see

The gospel writers have been charged with fabrication on the ground that the prompt execution of John would have quenched the merriment. But hardened men are unlikely to let a little gore spoil their merriment. While Alexander Jannaeus feasted with his concubines in a public place, he ordered eight hundred rebels to die by crucifixion, their wives and children being slaughtered before the eyes of the victims (Josephus, Ant. 13.380 [14.2]). When Cicero’s head was brought to Fulvia, the wife of Antony, she spat on it and pierced its tongue with a pin in spite against the man who had opposed Antony. Jerome says Herodias did the same thing to the head of John. We do not know where Jerome got his information, and it may not be historical, but it would not have been out of character for a cruel and ruthless woman intent on aping the imperial court. So John died, the last of the OT prophets (11:9, 13) who through persecution became models for Jesus’ disciples (5:11–12).

For the significance of korasion (“girl,” v.11; GK 3166), see Hoehner (Herod Antipas, 154–56).

12 Though both Mark and Matthew tell of the burial of John the Baptist’s body by his disciples, only Matthew mentions their report to Jesus. This report does not become the reason for Jesus’ withdrawal (see

NOTES

6 The Greek γενεσίοις δὲ γενομένοις (genesiois de genomenois, “at the birthday feast”) is so difficult that it has generated a nest of variant readings. It appears to be a dative absolute, which, though apparently common in Plutarch, has no other certain example in the NT (cf. Moule, Idiom Book, 44–45).

9 There are two principal readings (1) λυπηθεὶς ὁ βασιλεὺς διά (lypētheis ho basileus dia), attested by B D Q f¹ f¹³ 700 it^a,b,d et al.; (2) ἐλυπήθη ὁ βασιλεύς; διὰ δέ (elypēthē ho basileus • dia de), attested by C K (L omit de) L^c W X Byz et al. The first, adopted here, is supported by witnesses of Alexandrian, Western, and Caesarean text types but has an ambiguity: does the διά, dia, phrase qualify λυπηθεὶς, lypētheis (“grieving”)—i.e., “the king, grieving because of his oath and his dinner guests, ordered, etc.”—or ἐκέλευσεν (ekeleusen, “he ordered”)—i.e., “the king was grieved; but because of his oath and his dinner guests, he ordered, etc.”? The second reading, most likely secondary, removes the ambiguity (usually evidence of being secondary) and requires the second interpretation. The difference is one of emphasis only; but the harder reading may be taken to support the more nuanced interpretation of Herod’s motives given above.

OVERVIEW

The feeding of the five thousand is found in all four gospels (cf. Mk 6:30–44; Lk 9:10–17; Jn 6:1–14; see

Possible OT allusions to Exodus 16 or 2 Kings 4:42–44 cannot be more than allusions, for the differences between this story and those are more significant than the similarities. Hence, as Davies notes (Setting, 48–49), that Matthew here develops a “new Moses” theme based on a manna typology (Ex 16) is unlikely since (1) none of the synoptists stresses the desert setting; (2) in the OT the manna was not to be kept, but here the fragments are to be kept; (3) Jesus ministers to a crowd from which he has tried to escape, and Exodus has no parallel to this. It is far more likely that this pericope shows that Jesus himself cannot be reduced to one of the ready-made categories of the day—prophet, rabbi, teacher of the law (cf. van der Loos, Miracles of Jesus, 634–37).

13When Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. 14When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick.

15As evening approached, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a remote place, and it’s already getting late. Send the crowds away, so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.”

16Jesus replied, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.”

17“We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish,” they answered.

18“Bring them here to me,” he said. 19And he directed the people to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. 20They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. 21The number of those who ate was about five thousand men, besides women and children.

COMMENTARY

13–14 If “what had happened” refers to John’s death, then the chronology is either contradictory (so Bultmann, History of the Synoptic Tradition, 351–52) or a return to a much earlier time, since the beginning of the chapter presupposes the Baptist’s death (v.2). But vv.3–12 must be seen as an excursus: the section opens with gar (“for”), commonly used to introduce excursuses, and the de (“and”) in v.13 is resumptive (cf. L. Cope, “The Death of John the Baptist in the Gospel of Matthew, or, The Case of the Confusing Conjunction,” CBQ 38 [1976]: 515–19). Therefore, v.13 picks up from vv.1–2: when Jesus heard, namely, Herod’s response to his preaching and miracles, he decided to withdraw. He had done so previously to escape the animus of the Pharisees (12:15); he now does so to avoid Antipas. But as elsewhere (e.g., Mk 7:24–25), it is not possible for Jesus to escape the crowds even when it is possible for him to leave a place. So he withdraws “privately” (kat’ idian: the idea is that he does not tell the crowds, not that he leaves by boat all by himself; cf. Hagner).

Luke (9:10) specifies that the “solitary place” was in the region belonging to Bethsaida—i.e., Bethsaida Julias (see

15–17 “Evening” (opsios, GK 4070) is a flexible word, referring to any period from midafternoon to just after sunset. The later period is in view in v.23; here the earlier one.

On the face of it, the conversation between Jesus and his disciples is straightforward, though very condensed compared with the other gospels. The “villages” to which the disciples wished to send the crowds were small, unwalled hamlets. Bread and fish were staples in Galilee, especially for the poor. John 6:9, 13 specifies barley loaves—the cheaper, coarser bread. The numbers “five” and “two” (v.17) are simply accurate details. Efforts to explain them (e.g., as referring to the Pentateuch and two tables of the Law) are as fanciful as Christian frescoes making them eucharistic symbols, which would turn fish into wine!

But in recent years the influence of Held (“Matthew as Interpreter of the Miracle Stories,” 181–83) has convinced many that Matthew’s changes of Mark (assuming absolute dependence in this pericope) demonstrate two other themes at work: (1) the disciples take part in the miracle, and so discipleship is prominent; (2) the omission of Mark 6:37b shows that though in Mark the disciples do not understand Jesus’ words—“You [emphatic] give them something to eat” (v.16; i.e., they do not understand that they themselves should perform a miracle)—in Matthew they do understand but lack the requisite faith. This will not do.

1. Held is establishing a great deal on the basis of an omission in a book characterized by condensations and omissions, and he does not even raise the question whether Mark 6:37b was omitted for nontheological reasons.

2. Similarly, would a first-century reader of Matthew perusing this gospel without critically comparing it with Mark at every turn suspect that Matthew was any easier on the disciples than Mark was at this point?

3. Neither “understanding” nor “faith” is explicitly raised in this pericope.

4. Jesus’ words “you give them something to eat” are not easy to understand, but whatever they mean, it is possible that the disciples do not understand them, even in Matthew. If (and this is doubtful, though Held seems to assume it) Jesus means that they should perform such a miracle, then their response (v.17) betrays their complete misunderstanding; for miracles of creation cannot be thought to require something first. If, on the other hand, Jesus is simply making them responsible to find out what is needed, buy food, or pray—if they remembered the miracle of the wine in Cana (Jn 2:1–11), they should have asked Jesus to meet the need, not send the people away—then their answer not only reveals limited vision but an approach to the problem betraying a lack of both understanding and faith.

5. The disciples’ role in the miracle is limited to the organization and distribution needed for a crowd of thousands. This can scarcely mean that the disciples contribute to the miracle. Indeed, the story could more easily be taken as contrasting Jesus with his disciples in this miracle than as elevating them to major roles.

18–21 Jesus alone multiplies the loaves and fishes. He gives the orders, gives thanks, and breaks the loaves (vv.18–19). The actions—looking up to heaven, thanking God, and breaking the loaves—are normal for any head of a Jewish household (cf. Moore, Judaism, 2:216–17; Str-B, 1:685–86; m. Ber. 6–8) and have no special eucharistic significance. A common form of prayer before eating was “Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe, who bringest forth bread from the earth.”

Matthew omits many details—the greenness of the grass, the groups of fifty and one hundred—but points out that all ate and were satisfied (v.20), perhaps an anticipation of the messianic banquet, and at least evidence that there was lots to eat! The twelve baskets (kophinos, GK 3186, a stiff wicker basket) of leftovers and the size of the crowd (which might have been fifteen or twenty thousand total, if there were five thousand “men,” v.21) also support the latter point. David Instone-Brewer (Traditions of the Rabbis from the Era of the New Testament [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004], 1:79–81) suggests that the reason for counting males only may be related to the rabbinic stipulations of different kinds of “grace” to be said for different numbers of males who were present (m. Ber. 7:3.) But the “twelve basketfuls” may be significant: that there were twelve tribes and twelve apostles—emphasized in 19:28—cannot be coincidence. Yet the precise significance is uncertain. The best suggestion may be that Messiah’s supply is so lavish that even the scraps of his provision are enough to supply the needs of Israel, represented by the Twelve.

OVERVIEW

Many scholars since Bultmann (History of the Synoptic Tradition, 216) have surmised that two stories are woven together in Mark’s account (6:45–52; cf. Jn 6:16–21)—an account of walking on the water and a later storm-calming miracle. But Scot McKnight (“The Role of the Disciples in Matthew and Mark: A Redactional Study” [Master’s thesis, Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, 1980], 153–56) has shown the two to be integrally related. Some of the points arising from the differences between Mark and Matthew are briefly treated below.

On the theological thrust of the passage, see John P. Heil, Jesus Walking on the Sea (Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1981), who notes the association in the OT between chaos and sea. The stilling of the sea is, therefore, not only christological in orientation but also eschatological: Jesus is even now stilling the deep.

22Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. 23After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24but the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.

25During the fourth watch of the night Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. 26When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear.

27But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

28“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”

29“Come,” he said.

Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. 30But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”

31Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”

32And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. 33Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

COMMENTARY

22 Why Jesus “made” (the verb is very strong and might be translated “compelled”) the disciples go on ahead of him may be deduced from these bits of information: (1) he wanted to be alone to pray (v.23); (2) he wanted to escape the crowd with his disciples to get some rest (Mk 6:31–32); and (3) he may have dismissed the disciples forcefully to help tame a messianic uproar (Jn 6:15).

The omission of “Bethsaida” (Mk 6:45) in Matthew raises a difficult geographical problem. From the perspective of the site where the feeding took place, “to the other side” means the west shore, and that is where the boat ultimately landed, at Gennesaret (Mk 6:53 = Mt 14:34), a small triangular plain on the northwest shore of the lake (Kinnereth in the OT, 1Ki 15:20). John 6:17 specifies the town of Capernaum. But Mark (6:45) says Jesus sent his disciples “on ahead of him to the other side [in the best MSS] to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd.” This was most likely Bethsaida Julius, just up the coast to the north, on the same side of the lake. The apparent discrepancy has prompted some MSS of Mark to omit “to the other side.” The explanation that the boat was blown off course and landed on the west side does not explain the reference to Bethsaida, if this is Bethsaida Julius.

The problem is knotty. The simplest solution is that defended by Westcott (The Gospel according to St. John [repr.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1981]) and Morris (John)—namely, Jesus sent the disciples off to cross the lake, with the command to wait for him on the eastern shore near Bethsaida Julius, but not beyond a certain time. The delay in waiting for Jesus would then account for the actual walking on the water not occurring until the fourth watch (v.25), i.e., after 3:00 a.m.

A bit of syntax may support this view. Matthew’s heōs hou plus the aorist subjunctive verb should normally be rendered “until” (as in 13:33; 17:9; 18:34; though cf. 26:36)—i.e., the disciples were to “go on ahead” (proagein, GK 4575) of him until, not while, he was free of the crowds, after which he hoped to join them, after some time alone in prayer; they would then cross “to the other side.” Mark (6:45) specifies Bethsaida but has heōs plus the indicative [in the best MSS]: the disciples were to go “to Bethsaida while,” not “until,” he sent the crowds away.

23–24 If this interpretation is correct, then it is the length of Jesus’ prayer time that delays his coming and sends the disciples across the lake on their own. On the phrase “into the hills,” see

The NIV’s “a considerable distance” (v.24) masks a considerable textual difficulty. The most likely reading is “many stadia [one stadion was about two hundred yards] from land” (Metzger, Textual Commentary, 37). In any event, the boat was out toward the middle of the lake. If enantios is taken literally to mean “against” and not metaphorically to mean “hostile to,” then the clause “the wind was against it,” on the basis of the movements suggested above, refers to a strong wind from the west—a regular feature during the rainy season (Mark’s “green grass” [6:39] confirms the season).

Many eager to find signs of the Matthean church take the boat as a symbol of that church—a community of disciples in stormy times (e.g., Bonnard, Schweizer). But if so, why did Peter want to step “out of the boat”?

25–27 The ancient Hebrew world divided the night from sunset to sunrise into three watches (Jdg 7:19; La 2:19), but the Romans used four (v.25); and their influence prevailed in the evangelists’ chronologies. Jesus’ approach to the boat, therefore, occurred between 3:00 a.m. and 6:00 a.m. Matthew omits the difficult words “He was about to pass by them” (Mk 6:48), on which see Lane (Mark, 235–36). The disciples were terrified (Mt 14:26), thinking they were seeing a phantasma (“apparition”; NIV, “ghost”; used in the NT only here and in Mk 6:49). There is no merit in the supposition that this is a transposed resurrection appearance. Jesus’ “Take courage!” (v.27, as in 9:2, 22) and his “Don’t be afraid” bracket the central reason for these calming exhortations: “It is I.” Although the Greek egō eimi can have no more force than that, any Christian after the resurrection and ascension would also detect echoes of “I am,” the decisive self-disclosure of God (Ex 3:14; Isa 43:10; 51:12). Once again, we find Jesus revealing himself in a veiled way that will prove especially rich to Christians after his resurrection (see

28 Verses 28–32 have no parallel in the other gospels; and two of the verbs (“to sink” and “to doubt”) are used elsewhere in this gospel only in exclusively Matthean sections (18:6; 28:17). Perhaps Matthew was the first to commit this part of the story to writing, though the evidence from two verbs each used but once elsewhere is not commanding. This is the first of three scenes in which Peter receives special treatment, all in chs. 14–17 (cf. 16:13–23; 17:24–27). Benoit thinks that already in this story Peter gains primacy over the rest of the Twelve; but “if so, it is a primacy which reveals weakness in faith” (Hill). See

Peter’s protasis (“if it’s you”) is a real condition, almost “since it’s you.” The request is bold, but the disciples had been trained for some time and given power to do exactly the sort of miracles Jesus was doing (10:1). What is more natural than for a fisherman who knew and respected the dangers of the Sea of Galilee to want to follow Jesus in this new demonstration of supernatural power?

29–31 How far Peter got is unclear (see Notes, v.29), but at Jesus’ command he walked on the water (the plural “waters” in Greek may be in imitation of Hebrew, which uses “water” only in the plural; cf. Mk 9:22; Jn 3:23). But his outlook changed: when he saw the wind (synecdoche for the storm), he began to sink (v.30). It was not that he lost faith in himself (so Schniewind), but that his faith in Jesus, strong enough to get him out of the boat and walking on the water, was not strong enough to stand up to the storm. Therefore, Jesus calls him a man “of little faith” (v.31; see

32–33 The climax of the story is not the stilling of the storm (v.32) but the confession and worship of the disciples: “Truly you are the Son of God” (v.33). This is the first time Jesus has been addressed by the disciples with this full title (cf. 16:16; 26:63; 27:40, 43, 54). But it already lurks behind 3:17 (“my Son”), and the devil has used it of Jesus (4:3, 6). It is most likely abbreviated to “the Son” in Jesus’ self-references in 11:25–27. In the earlier passage (cf. 3:17), we have seen how the title would most likely have been understood by the disciples at the time and how it would have been fleshed out in light of the resurrection. On the absence of the Greek articles, see

The objection that v.33 so anticipates 16:16 as to make the latter anticlimactic is psychologically unconvincing. Similar reasoning would make the rebuke of Peter (16:21–23) following his grand confession (16:13–20) impossible or preclude defection from Jesus at his passion. The Synoptic Gospels show us that the disciples understand only by degrees. Therefore, their confessions of Christ must not be interpreted as if they had postresurrection understanding of him. One of the marks of the evangelists’ fidelity to the historical development of the disciples’ understanding of Christ lies precisely in this—that they show the disciples coming around to the same points again and again, each time at a deeper level of comprehension, but always with a mixture of misapprehension.

Exactly what the disciples meant by “Son of God” is uncertain. It is doubtful that at this point they understood the title in a genuine ontological sense (though they would later). It is even less likely that they thought of Jesus as a theios anēr (“divine man”), allegedly an understood category in Hellenistic Judaism for various miracle workers. Carl Holladay (Theios Anēr in Hellenistic Judaism: A Critique of the Use of This Category in New Testament Christology [Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1977]) has shown the category was not well defined, that it had no fixed content in our period, and that it was not that common (contra O. Cullmann, The Christology of the New Testament [2nd ed.; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1963], 277; E. Lövestam, “Wunder und Symbolhandlung: Eine Studie über Matthäus 14:29–31,” Kerygma and Dogma 9 [1962]: esp. 135; and many others). Probably they used the title in a messianic way (see

Many feel that vv.32–33 decisively alter Mark 6:51–52 (cf. Held, “Matthew as Interpreter of the Miracle Stories,” 204ff.). Mark, it is alleged, leaves a final impression of confusion. No mention is made of the disciples’ worship; instead they are amazed and do not understand the previous miracle of the loaves, and their hearts are hardened. But Matthew portrays them worshiping and uttering an important christological confession, with no mention of amazement, hard hearts, or failure to understand. These are indeed undeniable differences; but the two evangelists are not as far apart as one might think.

1. Mark says they are “amazed”; but the verb used is often associated, not with fear, but with joyful worship (Lev 9:24 LXX; similarly the cognate noun, Lk 5:26). When used in Mark, the word usually, but not always, denotes amazement in response to some divine self-disclosure, but without fear. Why should they be afraid? The storm had ceased!

2. The comment in Mark 6:52 that the disciples’ hearts were hardened does not refer to their amazement but to an underlying attitude that could allow for amazement after having seen so much of Jesus’ work. The same point could be deduced from Matthew, even though it is not spelled out there.

3. Matthew may have omitted the censure in Mark 6:52 because he thought it would be repetitive. He had already shown the fear and lack of faith of the disciples (vv.26–27). (On these points, see esp. Trotter, “Understanding and Stumbling.”)

This is not to deny differences in emphasis between Matthew and Mark but to deny that the historical reality behind the two accounts is too small to sustain both emphases. Mark focuses on the disciples’ “hardness” that continued despite another miracle like a previous one (cf. 8:23–27; Mk 4:35–41) by someone who could multiply loaves. Matthew hints at such unbelief through his narrative—he is capable of much more subtle characterization than Mark—and by the example of Peter (if he is a man of little faith, what about the rest of them?) but focuses explicitly on the disciples’ confession of Jesus as God’s Son. But even there, in view of later developments in Matthew, a reader might think that the disciples’ confessions are much greater than their actual comprehension (see

NOTES

29 The principal textual options are (1) καὶ ἦλθεν (kai ēlthen, “and he came or went [to Jesus]”) and (2) ἐλθεῖν (elthein, “to come,” “to go”). The latter signifies intent, the former accomplishment. (The NIV does not translate the word.) The external evidence is neatly divided. Metzger’s argument (Textual Commentary, 37) that “he went” was changed to “to go” because the former seemed to say too much may be right. But one might argue that “to go” seems to say too little, since the text claims that Peter actually walked on the water; yet, when Peter began to sink, Jesus needed only reach out his hand to seize him, which implies Peter had walked almost all the way.

31 Εἰς τί (eis ti, “Why”), probably equivalent to (l^emâ, “why”), is extraordinary. The customary form is διὰ τί (dia ti, “why”), as in 9:14. Turner (Syntax, 266–67) detects a subtle difference: the latter means “because of what” = “why,” whereas the former means “in order to what” = “why”; and in this instance, the latter nuance in “why” makes good sense. Jesus does not ask “because of what” Peter doubted (any fool could see that!) but for what purpose, to what end: What was the point of his doubt, having come so far?

34When they had crossed over, they landed at Gennesaret. 35And when the men of that place recognized Jesus, they sent word to all the surrounding country. People brought all their sick to him 36and begged him to let the sick just touch the edge of his cloak, and all who touched him were healed.

COMMENTARY

34–36 Gennesaret was the fertile plain on the northwest side of the lake (see

This little pericope stresses again the sweeping extent of Jesus’ public ministry (cf. 4:23–25; 8:16; 9:35–36) and shows that Jesus’ ministry extended to all the people, though his close disciples had special access to him and his more intimate instruction. Also, because the stricter groups, such as the Pharisees and the Essenes, counted it an abomination to rub shoulders in a crowd—one never knew what ceremonial uncleanness one might contract—Jesus’ unconcern about such things neatly sets the stage for the confrontation over clean and unclean (15:1–20). As in 8:1–4; 9:20–22, he himself cannot become unclean; instead, he makes clean.

OVERVIEW

Controversies become sharper and more theological as Matthew’s narrative moves on. This controversy is of great importance in grasping Jesus’ understanding of the law. Some have tended to draw radical conclusions as to Matthew’s distinctive emphases by comparing this pericope with Mark 7:1–23 (e.g., Barth, “Matthew’s Understanding of the Law,” 86–89). The most prominent differences between Matthew and Mark are these: Matthew omits Mark 7:3–4, adds 15:12–14, omits Mark’s interpretation (Mk 7:19) that Jesus made all foods clean, and adds 15:20b to keep the focus on food eaten with washed or unwashed hands. Thus, many argue that whereas in Mark Jesus annuls the law, in Matthew he does not do more than annul one small bit of halakah (rabbinic interpretation affecting conduct). These issues must be kept in mind in interpreting the text more closely. (See esp. Banks’s balanced study, Jesus and the Law, 132–46.)

1Then some Pharisees and teachers of the law came to Jesus from Jerusalem and asked, 2“Why do your disciples break the tradition of the elders? They don’t wash their hands before they eat!”

3Jesus replied, “And why do you break the command of God for the sake of your tradition? 4For God said, ‘Honor your father and mother’ and ‘Anyone who curses his father or mother must be put to death.’ 5But you say that if a man says to his father or mother, ‘Whatever help you might otherwise have received from me is a gift devoted to God,’ 6he is not to ‘honor his father’ with it. Thus you nullify the word of God for the sake of your tradition. 7You hypocrites! Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you:

8“‘These people honor me with their lips,

but their hearts are far from me.

9They worship me in vain;

their teachings are but rules taught by men.’”

10Jesus called the crowd to him and said, “Listen and understand. 11What goes into a man’s mouth does not make him ‘unclean,’ but what comes out of his mouth, that is what makes him ‘unclean.’”

12Then the disciples came to him and asked, “Do you know that the Pharisees were offended when they heard this?”

13He replied, “Every plant that my heavenly Father has not planted will be pulled up by the roots. 14Leave them; they are blind guides. If a blind man leads a blind man, both will fall into a pit.”

15Peter said, “Explain the parable to us.”

16“Are you still so dull?” Jesus asked them. 17“Don’t you see that whatever enters the mouth goes into the stomach and then out of the body? 18But the things that come out of the mouth come from the heart, and these make a man ‘unclean.’ 19For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander. 20These are what make a man ‘unclean’; but eating with unwashed hands does not make him ‘unclean.’”

COMMENTARY

1 “Then” (see

2 As in 9:14, the attack on Jesus comes through the behavior of his disciples, though elsewhere we learn that the disciples reflected his own practices (Lk 11:37–41). Matthew is much more condensed than Mark, for two reasons: (1) Unlike Mark, Matthew does not need to explain Jewish customs to his readers, and (2) Mark deals with an array of Pharisaic halakic regulations (Mk 7:1–3), whereas Matthew stresses the one issue of eating food with unwashed hands. It must be emphasized that this distinction says nothing about the sharpness of the Pharisees’ attack on Jesus’ response but only about the concentration of issues (see

The “tradition of the elders,” the “tradition of men” (Mk 7:8; Col 2:8), “your tradition” (vv.3, 6; Mk 7:9, 13), and the “traditions of the fathers” (Gal 1:14) refer to the great corpus of oral teaching that commented on the law and interpreted it in detailed rules of conduct, often recording the diverse opinions of competing rabbis. This tradition in Jesus’ time was largely oral and orally transmitted; but the Pharisees, though not the Sadducees, viewed it as having authority very nearly equal to the canon. Much of it was severely disputed in the first century (cf. J. Andrew Overman, Matthew’s Gospel and Formative Judaism: The Social World of the Matthean Community [Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990], 62–68). It was later codified under Rabbi Judah the Prince (ca. AD 135–200) to form the Mishnah (cf. Str-B, 1:691–95; TDNT, 6:661–63; Moore, Judaism, 1:251–62). One entire tractate, Yadayim, deals with “hands” (i.e., yādayim), specifying such details as how much water must be used for effective ceremonial purification: e.g., “If a man poured water over the one hand with a single rinsing, his hand is clean; but if over both hands with a single rinsing, R. Meir declares them unclean unless he pours over them a quarter-log or more” (m. Yad. 2:1)—but it is not entirely clear how ritual washings demanded by some in the tradition of Pharisaism were observed by ordinary folk.

3–6 Jesus’ words, in slightly different order in Mark, are less a response than a counterattack. He made a fundamental distinction between the authority of “the command of God” (as found in Scripture) and the halakic tradition, and he insisted that the Pharisees and teachers of the law were guilty of breaking the former for the sake of (lit., “on account of”) the latter (v.3). The two texts cited are Exodus 20:12 and 21:17 (cf. Dt 27:16; Pr 1:8; 20:20; 30:17; 1Ti 5:3), and their point is clear enough. The English verb “curses” (v.4) is too narrow: kakologeō means “to insult,” “to speak evil of,” “to revile” (used in the NT only here and at Mk 7:10; 9:39; Ac 19:9). The one who speaks evil of his parents must surely be put to death (on the construction of the latter clause, cf. Zerwick, Biblical Greek, para. 60).

“But you” (v.5)—the “you” is emphatic—have evaded through your traditions God’s command (v.6), broadly interpreted by Jesus to lay responsibility on children to take responsibility for their parents. Greed could keep a son from discharging this duty by prompting him to declare the goods or money that might have gone to support his parents korban, a gift devoted to God (cf. Lev 27:9, 16), set aside for the temple treasury (cf. m. Ned., esp. 1, 9, 11; cf. Str-B, 1:711–17). Such a vow could be annulled in various ways. It would not mean that one could use the goods or money in question, but rather that he could withhold it from his parents (for legal questions, cf. Derrett, Studies in the New Testament, 1:112–17). Thus halakic tradition was nullifying the word of God (the textual variants “law of God” and “command of God” are not critical).

A further observation may be important, though it should not be overstressed. For Jesus and the kingdom, a man must be willing to put aside family loyalties and love Jesus supremely (10:37–39). Yet here Jesus accuses the Pharisees and teachers of the law of breaking God’s command when they use similar arguments to support vows devoting certain gifts to God. Apparently neither Jesus nor Matthew sees any inconsistency here, because in their view Jewish halakah cannot take precedence over the law, whereas Jesus and the kingdom may do so because they “fulfill” it. Other factors are also relevant. The halakic regulations Jesus opposed permitted a son sometimes to act against his parents, whereas 10:37–39 presupposes family opposition against disciples. Not only is the rule different, but the victim is also different.

7–9 This is the first recorded instance of Jesus’ calling the Pharisees and teachers of the law hypocrites (see

The quotation essentially follows the shorter form of the LXX (for details, cf. Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 14–16; Blomberg, “Matthew,” in CNTUOT). The burden of the Scripture Jesus quotes is that the Pharisees and teachers of the law have displaced the true religion of the heart (v.8), of the entire personality and will, with a religion of form. Therefore, their worship is vain (v.9) and their teachings their own, with nothing of God’s authority behind them.

The judgment is so sweeping that it calls into question not only the Jews’ halakah but their entire worship and teaching.

10–11 Jesus’ sharpest barb against the Pharisees and teachers of the law had been private. Now he teaches the crowd the same things. These two verses also answer the Pharisees’ question (v.2) directly, not just by countercharge (vv.3–9).

What Jesus now says, the disciples call a “parable” (v.15; so also Mk 7:17; see

Perhaps Mark 7:15 is a shade more generalized than Matthew’s form of the “parable” (v.11), but the differences are slight. “If Matthew really wished to exclude the kind of laxity represented by his Markan source, it is hard to see why he kept the potentially dangerous parable around which this whole controversy is constructed” (C. E. Carlston, “The Things That Defile (Mark 7:14) and the Law in Matthew and Mark,” NTS 15 [1968–69]: 77). The language is so general it lets in everything Mark allows, even though the final application is to food eaten with unwashed hands (v.20). The form of the argument is from this principle to that application, the former being broader than the latter. Thus, though Matthew omits Mark’s parenthetical interpretation (Mk 7:19b)—“(In saying this, Jesus declared all foods ‘clean.’)”—yet retention of the “parable” and its interpretation (vv.17–20) leads precisely to that conclusion.

12–14 These verses are peculiar to Matthew and reflect what took place after Jesus and his disciples had retired from the crowd and entered the house (cf. Mk 7:17). The disciples’ question shows that the Pharisees understood enough of Jesus’ parable to take offense (v.12). The disciples’ request to have the parable explained (v.15) does not reveal them as being more obtuse than the Pharisees but shows that, in common with most Jews at the time, they held the Pharisees in high regard and therefore wanted to be certain of exactly what Jesus had said that offended them so badly. Therefore, vv.12–14 are not out of place. Jesus must disillusion his disciples as to the reliability of the Pharisees and teachers of the law as spiritual guides, as well as explain the parable. This is not to say that these verses turn the entire section (vv.1–20) into a personal attack on the Pharisees rather than on their use of the law (so Kilpatrick, Origins, 180); for the chief point for which they are blamed relates to their misunderstanding of the law.

Jesus uses two images. The first (v.13) predicts the rooting up of any plant the heavenly Father has not planted. Israel often saw herself as a plant God had planted (Ps 1:3; Isa 60:21; cf. 1QS 8:5; CD 1:7; 1 En. 10:16; Pss. Sol. 14:2), and the prophets turned the image against them (Isa 5:1–7). Thus Jesus is not saying that every false doctrine will be rooted up (so Broadus) but that the Pharisees, the leaders of the Jewish people, are not truly part of God’s planting. In other words, they do not truly belong to Israel. (On the use of “planting of Israel” and “uprooting of Israel” as metaphors, see Charette, Theme of Recompense, 44–48.) This shocking idea has already been hinted at in Matthew (3:9; 8:11–12) and will recur.

The second image (v.14) may depend on a title some Jewish leaders apparently took on themselves. They had the law, they reasoned, and therefore were fit to serve as “guides of the blind” (Ro 2:19; cf. Lk 6:39). This Jesus disputes. In his view they were “blind guides of the blind” (NIV text note, so the most likely variant, cf. Metzger, Textual Commentary, 39); and “both will fall into a pit” (cf. Lk 6:39). Though the Pharisees and teachers of the law had the scrolls and interpreted them in the synagogues, this does not mean they really understood them. On the contrary, they were blind and failed to comprehend the Scriptures they claimed to follow. Jesus’ denunciation presupposes that anyone who truly understands “the word of God” (v.6) will discern who he is and follow him (cf. Jn 5:39–40). The Pharisees did not follow Jesus, so they did not understand and follow the Scriptures.

15–16 Peter speaks on behalf of the other disciples. Jesus’ answer shows that the “parable” to which Peter refers is v.11. The disciples’ failure to understand shocks Jesus. (1) Kai (“also”)—are you, too, “still so dull?” Dullness might be understandable in others, but in you disciples? (2) Akmēn (“still,” used only here in Matthew) may mean either “Are you still without understanding?” (Hill, McNeile) or “Are you still—but not for long—without understanding?” (Schlatter). The context strongly favors the former, and therefore the question, far from toning down the disciples’ failure to grasp Jesus’ teaching (so Schweizer), magnifies its enormity.

17–20 Verse 17 explains that “what goes into a man’s mouth” (v.11) is merely food, which passes through the body and is excreted (lit., “is cast into a latrine”). On the sanitary conditions of the time, cf. Edward Neufeld, “Hygiene Conditions in Ancient Israel,” BA 34 (1971): 42–66. Verses 18–20 explain that “what comes out of a man’s mouth” (v.11), and what makes him unclean, comes from his heart (see

It would be puerile to ask how every item on the list results directly in defiling speech. The point, as in 12:34–35, is that what a man truly is affects what he says and does. Jesus presupposes that the heart is essentially evil (cf. 7:11). But the burden of this pericope is to teach that what ultimately defiles a man is what he really is. Jesus is not spiritualizing the OT but insisting that true religion must deal with the nature of man and not with mere externals.

Because v.20b does not occur in Mark, many have thought it to be Matthew’s way of limiting the application of the controversy to the single question of eating food with unwashed hands. Two things militate against this view: (1) Jesus deals with a broad principle touching all foods and applies it to this situation, but the application can be no more valid than the broader principle on which it is based; and (2) Matthew frequently ends his pericopes by referring back to the questions that precipitate them (see

The way one interprets this pericope relates to a larger understanding of how Matthew deals with Jesus’ attitude to the law and the situation in his own church.

1. It goes beyond the evidence to argue, as does Ernst Käsemann (Essays on New Testament Themes [London: SCM Press, 1964], 101), that Jesus now abrogates the distinction between the sacred and the profane; or, as Lohmeyer does, that Jesus now distinguishes “word of God” from “word of man,” even within Scripture itself; or, as McNeile does, that Jesus now undermines, as in Mark, all Mosaic distinctions between clean and unclean. He deals, principally, with the clean/unclean distinctions as to foods and applies this principle to foods eaten with unwashed hands.

2. On the other hand, it does not go as far as the exegetical evidence to pit Matthew against Mark so that the former, unlike the latter, is seen as absolutely restricting Jesus’ words to the single problem of foods eaten with unwashed hands. Verses 3, 7–9, 11, 14, 17–19 cannot be taken so narrowly.

3. The approach that sees a Jewish-Christian church behind this pericope—whether still related to the synagogue or recently separated from it—is exegetically unsatisfying. Matthew is slightly more cautious than Mark and perhaps a shade less explicit, but that is not solid enough evidence to support G. Barth’s reconstruction (“Matthew’s Understanding of the Law”) of the Matthean church. Though Ebionite groups doubtless flourished, Matthew did not belong to one or anything like one, for no Ebionite could write vv.11, 17–20.

4. Banks (Jesus and the Law, 140–41) contends that if Jesus explicitly repudiated the food laws contained in Leviticus 11 and Deuteronomy 14 (Da 1:8–16; cf. Jdt 10:5; Tob 1:10–11), then the hesitations of the primitive church on the issue (Ac 10:14–15; 15:28–29; Ro 14:14; Gal 2:11–14) are inexplicable. But Banks avoids falling into the trap of thinking that Jesus’ original teaching on this matter was no more than Semitic hyperbole, with the meaning that “pollutions from within are more serious than pollutions from without” (p. 141; cf. Hos 6:6). Rather, he holds that Jesus’ approach neither attacked nor affirmed the law but moved on a different level, expressing “an entirely new understanding of what does and does not constitute defilement” (p. 141). Abrogation was latent within the saying, but not more. This is a shade too timid.

The hesitations of the early church regarding the food laws are not inexplicable. A great deal of what Jesus taught became progressively clear to the church after the resurrection and did not immediately gain universal assent. The same is true of Jesus’ words on Gentile conversion, on the Great Commission, on the delay of the Parousia. What can be said is that Jesus’ teaching in this pericope (and in its Markan parallel) opens up an entirely fresh approach to the question of the law. It does not simply subordinate the ritual to the moral (these are not the categories appealed to); instead, it discounts the Pharisees’ oral tradition while defending the law (vv.3–6) and yet insists that real “cleanness” is of the heart, thus discounting some of the law’s formal requirements. What is indisputable is how seminal Jesus’ treatment of this point proved to be in the early decades of the church after Pentecost (see, e.g., Ac 10–11; Gal 2:11–14; cf. J. D. G. Dunn, Jesus, Paul and the Law [London: SPCK, 1990]).

The only way to explain these phenomena is the one Matthew has already developed (see esp. 5:21–48): Jesus insists that the true direction in which the OT law points is precisely what he teaches, what he is, and what he inaugurates. He has fulfilled the law; therefore, whatever prescriptive force it continues to have is determined by its relationship to him, not vice versa. It is within this framework that Jesus’ teaching in this pericope theologically anticipates Romans 14:14–18; 1 Corinthians 10:31; 1 Timothy 4:4; Titus 1:15, and that historically it took some time for the ramifications of Jesus’ teaching to be thoroughly grasped, even by his own disciples. Once again it is a mark of Matthew’s fidelity to the historical facts that he does not overstate Jesus’ teaching, and a mark of his literary skill that he does not find it necessary to draw Mark’s parenthetical conclusion (Mk 7:19b), even though he obviously shares it.

5. It follows that Jesus not only rejected the Pharisees and teachers of the law as authentic interpreters of Scripture (esp. vv.12–14) but assigned that role finally and absolutely to himself (cf. 5:21–48). Historically the conflict between Jesus and the traditional interpreters of Scripture would wax fierce and would ultimately take him to the cross; theologically, the fundamental distinctions between a Christian and a Jewish reading of Scripture must be traced to Jesus himself.

6. What concerned Jesus was not so much the form of religion as human nature. He wanted to see people transformed and their hearts renewed (cf. 6:1–33; 12:34–35; see

OVERVIEW

It is by no means clear which way—if at all—the literary dependency of this pericope on Mark (cf. Mk 7:24–30) runs (cf. E. A. Russell, “The Canaanite Woman and the Gospels,” in Studia Biblica 1978 [ed. Livingstone], 2:263–82). Of greater interest is the placing of this pericope in both gospels. It not only records Jesus’ withdrawal from the opposition of the Pharisees and teachers of the law (cf. 14:13) but contrasts their approach to the Messiah with that of this woman. They belong to the covenant people but take offense at the conduct of Jesus’ disciples, challenge his authority, and are so defective in understanding the Scriptures that they show themselves not to be plants the heavenly Father has planted. But this woman is a pagan, a descendant of ancient enemies, and one who has no claim on the God of the covenant. Yet in the end, she approaches the Jewish Messiah and with great faith asks only for grace, and her request is granted (cf. 8:5–13).

This essentially christological approach to the pericope is more defensible than the one that sees in these verses guidance for Matthew’s Jewish church in its relations to Gentiles—they could not claim immediate access to salvation, but exceptions would be made where there was deep faith (Hill). This begs too many issues. Would they, or would they not, then have to conform to all Jewish law? How do we know so much about Matthew’s church (see Introduction, )? What this explains to Matthew’s readers (Matthew’s “church,” though this designation may give the wrong impression of a group hermetically sealed off from other churches) is not what attitude they ought to adopt toward Gentile evangelism, whether opposition or occasional acquiescence, but rather “how we got from there to here”—i.e., how the development of redemptive history changed the position of God’s people from late OT concepts to the full Christian concept. This story is a step along the way, focused on the self-disclosure of the Messiah and his attitudes to his own mission, his pivotal role in salvation history. But if Matthew’s Jewish-Christian readers want to learn more about what their attitude should be toward Gentile evangelism, they must also read the words of the resurrected and glorified Jesus after the climax of his self-disclosure (28:18–20).

The worst feature of many redaction-critical attempts to reconstruct Matthew’s church and its problems is the implicit elimination of the salvation history insisted on by the Gospels themselves, a persistent refusal to believe that the evangelists are interested in writing about Jesus to explain him, and therefore “how we got from there to here,” rather than to address their “churches” from the perspective of a theology infinitely flexible and shaped by contemporary problems alone. Once the perspective of redemptive history is granted, we may cheerfully acknowledge that the evangelists include material and write it down in such a way that it will prove of interest and/or use (not necessarily both) to their readers. But the loss of the historical perspective from which the evangelists claim to write leads to an unnecessary and basic distortion of their gospels.

21Leaving that place, Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. 22A Canaanite woman from that vicinity came to him, crying out, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me! My daughter is suffering terribly from demon-possession.”

23Jesus did not answer a word. So his disciples came to him and urged him, “Send her away, for she keeps crying out after us.”

24He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.”

25The woman came and knelt before him. “Lord, help me!” she said.

26He replied, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs.”

27“Yes, Lord,” she said, “but even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”

28Then Jesus answered, “Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted.” And her daughter was healed from that very hour.

COMMENTARY

21 Jesus “withdraws” (as in 2:12, 22; 4:12; 12:15; 14:13) to the region of Tyre and Sidon, cities on the Mediterranean coast lying about thirty and fifty miles respectively from Galilee. Kilpatrick (Origins, 130ff.) notes Matthew’s interest in them (cf. 11:21–24) and suggests that Matthew and his church were there—a possibility, but without much supporting evidence. “The vicinity of Tyre” (Mk 7:24) leads us to ask whether Jesus actually entered the region of Tyre and Sidon or went only to the border—which would mean the woman came out to meet him. But Matthew 15:21 and Mark 7:31 make it clear that Jesus left Galilee and entered pagan territory. According to Mark 3:8 and Luke 6:17, some crowds had come from Tyre and Sidon to be helped by him, but there he would hardly be known.

22 The introductory idou (lit., “behold,” untranslated in NIV) probably points to the extraordinary nature of the story. Mark (7:26) calls the woman “a Greek [i.e., a non-Jewess], born in Syrian Phoenicia.” Matthew’s use of the old term “Canaanite” shows that he cannot forget her ancestry: now a descendant of Israel’s ancient enemies comes to the Jewish Messiah for blessing. Exelthousa (lit., “coming out”) does not mean that she came out of that pagan region to meet Jesus but either that her ancestry was there or that she had left her home (Bonnard, Lohmeyer). Her calling Jesus “Son of David” shows some recognition of Jesus as the Messiah who would heal the people (see

23–24 That these verses are peculiar to Matthew is not surprising. Matthew’s Jewish readers would be intensely interested in Jesus’ doing a miracle to aid a Gentile, on Gentile territory. Mark’s Gentile readers would, however, have needed much explanation had this saying been included in his gospel. Jesus had healed Gentiles before (4:24–25; 8:5–13), but always in Jewish territory.

Jesus’ silence does not quiet the woman; so his disciples beg him to stop her persistent cries (v.23). If they mean “send her away without helping her,” either they suppose she is annoying him or they themselves are being annoyed. But their words could also be taken to mean “send her away with her request granted” (so Meyer, Benoit). Indeed only this interpretation makes sense, because v.24 gives a reason for Jesus’ not helping her rather than for not sending her away.

Bultmann (History of the Synoptic Tradition, 155), Arens (῏Ηλθον-sayings, 315–19), and others judge Jesus’ answer (v.24) to be inauthentic, largely on the grounds that “I was sent” sounds Johannine and thus for them is late and inauthentic. Regardless of this similarity, the particularism of the thought supports its authenticity, since the church, even before Paul, engaged in Gentile evangelism and could therefore hardly be thought to have created the saying (cf. Jeremias, Jesus’ Promise, 26–28; Bonnard; Hill). The thought echoes 10:6, where the same language is used (lit., “the lost sheep of the house of Israel”). But even ch. 10 recognizes that one day the mission of the disciples will take them to Gentiles (10:18). But that time was not yet. Meanwhile, Jesus, doing the Father’s will (cf. 11:27), recognized that his own mission was to Israel; and he delighted to do the will of him who sent him.

“The lost sheep of the house of Israel” either means “the lost sheep among the house of Israel”—i.e., some in the house of Israel are not lost—or “the lost sheep who are the house of Israel”—i.e., all Israel, regarded as lost sheep. The latter is correct, for in the identical expression at 10:6 the contrast is not between these lost sheep and others in Israel who are not lost but between these lost sheep and Gentiles or Samaritans. Flender (Die Botschaft Jesu, 23ff.) errs in the opposite direction, holding that Jesus sees himself gathering all Israel, not just a remnant. But Jesus is not so naive (cf. 7:13–14; 10:17–22, 34–37), for there is a categorical distinction between a target people and a converted people.

It appears, then, that Jesus wanted his disciples and the Canaanite woman to recognize “that his activities were circumscribed not only by the inevitable limitations of his manhood, but by the specific part that he had been called to play during his brief earthly life” (Tasker, 150). True, Jesus was “Son of David,” as the woman said, but that did not give her the right to enjoy the benefits covenanted to the Jews. The kingdom must first be offered to them. The thought is like John 4:22: “Salvation is from the Jews.” The Samaritan woman, like this Canaanite woman, had to recognize this—even if a time was coming when true worship would transcend such categories (Jn 4:23–26). Chae (Jesus as the Eschatological Davidic Shepherd, 216–17) rightly points out that the advance of thought in this pericope follows the flow of thought in Ezekiel 34–37 and beyond, on which the notion of “David” as eschatological Shepherd of his people depends: first he restores Israel, and then his reign extends to the nations.

25 The woman knelt (see

26 Still Jesus made certain that she grasped the historic distinction between Jew and Gentile. Jesus’ short aphorism supposes that the “children” are the people of Israel and the “dogs” are Gentiles. The “crumbs” (v.27) do not designate the quantity of blessing bestowed; and still less does the table refer to the Eucharist (rightly Bonnard). The question is one of precedence: the children get fed first.

27 The woman’s answer is masterly. “Yes, Lord,” she agrees, “for even [not ‘but even,’ NIV; see Notes] the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Those two words, “for even,” reveal immense wisdom and faith. She does not phrase her answer as a counterstroke but as a profound acquiescence with the further implications of “dogs.” She does not argue that her needs make her an exception, or that she has a right to Israel’s covenanted mercies, or that the mysterious ways of divine election and justice are unfair. She abandons mention of Jesus as “Son of David” and simply asks for help, “and she is confident that even if she is not entitled to sit down as a guest at Messiah’s table, Gentile ‘dog’ that she is, yet at least she may be allowed to receive a crumb of the uncovenanted mercies of God” (Tasker, 152; cf. Bailey, Jesus through Middle Eastern Eyes, 217–26). There may be no significance to the use of the diminutive “dogs” (kynaria, GK 3249) in vv.26–27, because in Hellenistic Greek the diminutive force is often entirely lacking; but if there is such force here, it does not make the dogs more acceptable—i.e., “pet dogs” or “house dogs” as opposed to “wild dogs”—but more dependent: i.e., little, helpless dogs eat little scraps of food (psichiōn—equally diminutive in form). As does Paul in Romans 9–11, the woman preserves Israel’s historical privilege over against all radical idealization or spiritualization of Christ’s work, yet perceives that grace is freely given to the Gentiles.

28 The faith that simply seeks mercy is honored. Again Jesus speaks, this time with emotion (see Notes), and the woman’s daughter is healed “from that very hour” (cf. 8:13; 9:22). The Clementine homilies (end of the second century) call the woman Justa and her daughter Berenice, but the names may have been invented.

NOTES

27 The words καὶ γάρ (kai gar; NIV, “but even”) are used approximately thirty-nine times in the NT. In no other place does the NIV render them adversatively (“but even”), and there is no justification for doing so here. The natural translation is “for even.” The Markan parallel (Mk 7:28) exhibits far more variants; but the correct reading almost certainly omits both γάρ (gar, “for”) and ἀλλά (alla, “but”) in favor of a simple “Lord, even the dogs,” whose precise nuance is a shade more ambiguous.

28 The ejaculation ὦ (ō, “O [woman],” omitted in D) has emotional force (cf. BDF, para. 146 [1b], which contrasts this with use of the vocative “woman” without the word in Luke 22:57; John 2:4; 4:21; et al.), as seems usual in the Hellenistic Greek of the NT, with the exception of Acts, which prefers the classical usage (cf. Zerwick, Biblical Greek, para. 35).

OVERVIEW

Mark 7:31–37 tells of the healing of a deaf mute; Matthew provides a summary of more extensive healings (cf. T. J. Ryan, “Matthew 15:29–31: An Overlooked Summary,” Hor 5 [1978]: 31–42; for other summaries, cf. 4:23–25; 9:35–38; 12:15–21; 14:14–36). Ryan points out the echoes of Isaiah 29:18–19; 35:5–6. Of greater consequence is the geographical location. Contrary to Bonnard, these healings and the subsequent feeding of the four thousand take place in Gentile territory—namely, in the Decapolis (see

29Jesus left there and went along the Sea of Galilee. Then he went up on a mountainside and sat down. 30Great crowds came to him, bringing the lame, the blind, the crippled, the mute and many others, and laid them at his feet; and he healed them. 31The people were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the crippled made well, the lame walking and the blind seeing. And they praised the God of Israel.

COMMENTARY

29–31 “Jesus left there” refers to the region of Tyre and Sidon (v.21). But to which (not “along” which, as in the NIV; cf. Moule, Idiom Book, 50–51) side of the Sea of Galilee did he go? If to the west, he was in Jewish Galilee; if to the east, in predominantly Gentile Decapolis (see

But all this depends on reading Mark into Matthew. Could it be that Matthew simply does not care about where Jesus was at this point? No, the evidence suggests rather that he assumes it: (1) the clause “they praised the God of Israel” (v.31) uses language that only Gentiles would have used for praising God; (2) the remoteness of the place (v.33) suggests the eastern side of the lake; and (3) the number of “basketfuls of broken pieces” (v.37) left over avoids the symbolic “twelve” (cf. 14:20). More incidental bits of information point in the same direction (see

Jesus did many miracles over the course of several days (cf. vv.30–32). The order of the ailments varies in the MSS, possibly owing in part to homoeoteleuton (cf. Metzger, Textual Commentary, 40).

OVERVIEW

Many scholars hold that this miracle, reported here and in Mark 8:1–10, is a doublet of the feeding of the five thousand, though there is little agreement about why Matthew should include a doublet here. A few have thought the requirements of a liturgical calendar led him to do this—a theory lacking in substantial evidence. More common is the view that Mark put in the doublet to affirm that Gentiles as well as Jews will enjoy the messianic banquet. “The repetition of the story therefore serves theology, not history” (Hill).

This is not very satisfactory, for if even one of Mark’s or Matthew’s readers knew there was only one miraculous feeding, and that of Jews, the point about the Gentiles would be lost and the credibility of the two evangelists impugned. The events were within the lifetime of many of Matthew’s readers. We are dealing with a few decades, not centuries. Thus the validity of the theological point depends here on the credibility of the historical record. Moreover, both Mark 8:17–19 and Matthew 16:9–11 report that Jesus referred to the two feedings as separate occasions. Even if one rejects the authenticity of what Jesus said, it argues that the evangelists themselves believed in two miraculous feedings.

Close comparison of the two miracles shows similarities only where there could scarcely be anything else: (1) they both take place in the country; (2) bread and fish appear in both, but this was the common food of the area; (3) Jesus gives thanks and breaks the bread, as one would expect him to (see

On the other hand, the differences between the two miracles are impressive (cf. Maier): (1) the different numbers, five thousand and four thousand; (2) the different locales, northeast shore and southeast shore of Galilee (clearest in Mark); (3) no mention of grass in the second story, implying a different season of the year; (4) a different supply of food at the beginning; (5) a different number of basketfuls of leftovers, and even different words for “basket”; and (6) the longer stay of the people in the second miracle (v.32).

It might be wise to remember that two feeding miracles by Moses (Ex 16; Nu 11) and Elisha are reported (2Ki 4:1–7, 42–44). The only impressive reason for taking this account as a doublet is the disciples’ response in v.33, and this is best accounted for in other ways (see

32Jesus called his disciples to him and said, “I have compassion for these people; they have already been with me three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, or they may collapse on the way.”

33His disciples answered, “Where could we get enough bread in this remote place to feed such a crowd?”

34“How many loaves do you have?” Jesus asked.

“Seven,” they replied, “and a few small fish.”

35He told the crowd to sit down on the ground. 36Then he took the seven loaves and the fish, and when he had given thanks, he broke them and gave them to the disciples, and they in turn to the people. 37They all ate and were satisfied. Afterward the disciples picked up seven basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. 38The number of those who ate was four thousand, besides women and children. 39After Jesus had sent the crowd away, he got into the boat and went to the vicinity of Magadan.

COMMENTARY

32–33 On Jesus’ compassion, see

1. The disciples may have understood the feeding of the five thousand Jews as anticipating the messianic banquet. But, though they might have been prepared for Jesus to perform miracles of healing and exorcism on Gentiles as expressions of his mercy and compassion, they might still have been a long way from admitting that Gentiles could share in any anticipation of the messianic banquet.

2. According to John 6:26, after the feeding of the five thousand, Jesus rebuked the crowds for just wanting food, and the disciples may therefore have thought better of bringing the subject up again.

3. More important, we must never lose sight of a human being’s vast capacity for unbelief. After this healing, whether a doublet of the feeding of the five thousand or not, Jesus’ disciples completely misinterpreted one of his enigmatic sayings because even then they did not understand that those with Jesus could never starve (16:5–12).

34–39 Here in v.36 the verb eucharisteō (“I give thanks,” GK 2373) is used, not eulogeō (lit., “I bless,” GK 2328), as in 14:19, though there is no substantial difference in meaning. The spyridas (“baskets,” GK 5083) were woven of rushes and used for fish or other food (cf. kophinous [“baskets”] in 14:20, GK 3186). A. E. J. Rawlinson (The Gospel According to St. Mark [5th ed.; London: Methuen, 1942], 87) cites Juvenal to the effect that, at least in Rome, Jews commonly used kophinous to carry kosher food. If so, the use of spyridas in this setting may imply that the locale and its people were non-Jewish.

If the number of baskets of leftovers in 14:20 is symbolic, it is hard to see why the seven baskets here (v.37) are not symbolic (see

As before, hoi esthiontes (“those who ate,” v.38; on the tense, cf. Zerwick, Biblical Greek, para. 291) are all satisfied, and the men only are numbered. The whole crowd may have exceeded ten thousand.

The site of Magadan (v.39; see Notes) is unknown. Both Mark and Matthew now speak of a conflict with the Pharisees and Sadducees (16:1–4). If this occurred when Jesus and the disciples landed, it must have been on Jewish territory, probably on the western shores of Galilee.

NOTES

39 Mark 8:10 has τὰ μέρη Δαλμανουθά (ta merē Dalmanoutha, “the region of Dalmanoutha”); but we do not know where that is. The uncertainty of the site of Μαγαδάν (Magadan) has prompted several textual variants, including Μαγδαλάν (Magdalan) and Μαγδαλά (Magdala), which may have been influenced by a Semitic word for “tower” (Heb. [migdāl]; Aram. [migd^elā ʾ]).

OVERVIEW

Doubtless there were many requests for signs (see

1The Pharisees and Sadducees came to Jesus and tested him by asking him to show them a sign from heaven.

2He replied, “When evening comes, you say, ‘It will be fair weather, for the sky is red,’ 3and in the morning, ‘Today it will be stormy, for the sky is red and overcast.’ You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but you cannot interpret the signs of the times. 4A wicked and adulterous generation looks for a miraculous sign, but none will be given it except the sign of Jonah.” Jesus then left them and went away.

COMMENTARY

1 The single article in hoi Pharisaioi kai Saddoukaioi (“the Pharisees and Sadducees”) implies that they acted together. Because the two groups were so frequently at odds theologically and politically, many think such united action improbable. Moreover, critical orthodoxy dates this gospel at about AD 85, a time when the Sadducees, closely connected with Jerusalem and the temple, destroyed in AD 70, no longer existed as a coherent force. Therefore, many feel that since only Pharisaism was dominant in Judaism at that time, this reference to the Sadducees implies no more than that Matthew vaguely remembered all official Judaism being opposed to Jesus.

A better approach is possible.

1. It is precarious to identify, without remainder, the Pharisees of Jesus’ day and the rabbis of AD 85 (see Introduction, ), and the Sadducees did not continue as a group with genuine influence after AD 70. Matthew’s use of these terms might therefore be taken as evidence for historical accuracy in the pre–AD 70 setting and not as an anachronism.

2. The introduction has already questioned critical orthodoxy regarding the date and setting of Matthew’s gospel. A date in the ninth decade should not be lightly assumed. Overcoming that barrier, references to the Sadducees in the Synoptic Gospels can be taken to support the evangelists’ accuracy. Would not failure to mention the Sadducees have raised questions about how close the evangelists were to what they were writing about? Why then should mention of them not argue for the evangelists’ fidelity? If the Sadducees do not appear more often than they do, it is because they were a small group and closely tied to Jerusalem—a long way from Galilee, where Jesus exercised so much of his ministry. Indeed the controversy between Jesus and the Sadducees, recorded in 22:23–34; Mark 12:18–27; Luke 20:27–38, occurs in the south, where, too, there is much more frequent mention of “priests” and “chief priests,” exactly what one would expect from an accurate historian.

3. The other references to the Sadducees in the Gospels are all in Matthew (3:7; 16:1, 6, 11, 12), exactly as might be expected of a writer who often relies on the understanding of his Jewish readers.

4. Pharisees and Sadducees may here be lumped together because they represent the Sanhedrin, which included both groups (cf. Ac 23:6), or because a common opponent transforms enemies into friends (cf. Lk 23:12; cf. Ps 2:2). Also, Matthew elsewhere distinguishes between the two groups (22:33–34; see Introduction, ).

These men came to Jesus to “test” him (see

2–3 Jesus’ words here are omitted by a small but important group of witnesses. Jerome reports that most MSS known to him omit the words, and many scholars consider them an assimilation to Luke 12:54–56. But if that were so, one wonders why the wording is not closer. Lagrange, Metzger (Textual Commentary, 41), and others have postulated that the words are original but were dropped from some MSS by scribes living in climates such as Egypt, where a red sky in the morning (v.3) does not presage rain. The evidence is rather finely balanced, and it is probably best to include the words. If so, Jesus’ point is clear enough: the Pharisees and Sadducees can read the “signs” that predict weather, but they remain oblivious to the “signs of the times” already happening. Here these “signs of the times” point neither to the future nor (contra Hoekema, Bible and the Future, 133) to what God has done in the past. Instead, they testify to Jesus and the kingdom now dawning (cf. 11:4–6; 12:28). The proof that they cannot discern the “signs” is that they ask for a sign (v.1)! For those with eyes to see, the “signs of the times,” if not the kind of “sign” the Pharisees and Sadducees demanded, were already abundant.

4 But if a definitive sign is demanded, none but the sign of Jonah will be given (see

Mark also says that Jesus “sighed deeply.” The controversies were wearying. Jesus leaves his opponents and withdraws by boat to the other side of the lake (v.5) and points north (v.13). But his withdrawal is emotional and judicial as well as geographical.

OVERVIEW

This is Jesus’ last and most important withdrawal from Galilee before his final trip south (19:1), and it continues to 17:20. Close comparison of these verses with Mark 8:13–21 shows significant differences. In particular, (1) Matthew omits Mark 8:17b–18; (2) Matthew 16:9–11a shortens and rearranges Mark 8:19–21; (3) Matthew adds vv.11b–12; and (4) Matthew refers to the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees, but Mark to the yeast of the Pharisees and of Herod.

What do we make of these differences? Some writers (e.g., Barth, “Matthew’s Understanding of the Law,” 114–16; Strecker [Weg der Gerechtigkeit, 193]; Zumstein [La condition du croyant, 203]) argue that Matthew minimizes the disciples’ lack of understanding, so pronounced in Mark, and separates understanding from faith (see

The single-strand theological motivation advanced by many is reductionistic, when on the face of it numerous factors must be weighed.

1. Commentators on Mark complain that Mark 8:13–21 lacks cohesion or is verbose. In part, Matthew, as usual, is simply tightening things up and condensing his source.

2. Matthew 16:9 is still very negative. The disciples do not understand (a verb no weaker than the one used in Mark 8:17–18).

3. When they finally do understand (v.12), it is as a result of Jesus’ explanation—as in the case of the parables (13:36–43; 15:15–16). The disciples are beginning to understand (Trotter, “Understanding and Stumbling”), exactly as we might expect from their position in salvation history.

4. Far from driving a wedge between faith and understanding, the charge in vv.8–9a links them. Yet faith in Christ is made the prerequisite to understanding Jesus’ remark (see

5. Matthew’s distinctive emphases, as compared with Mark, are two: first, he takes the story to the point where the disciples do achieve some understanding, whereas Mark leaves the outcome hanging. This rounded-off conclusion is typical of Matthew (see

5When they went across the lake, the disciples forgot to take bread. 6“Be careful,” Jesus said to them. “Be on your guard against the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees.”

7They discussed this among themselves and said, “It is because we didn’t bring any bread.”

8Aware of their discussion, Jesus asked, “You of little faith, why are you talking among yourselves about having no bread? 9Do you still not understand? Don’t you remember the five loaves for the five thousand, and how many basketfuls you gathered? 10Or the seven loaves for the four thousand, and how many basketfuls you gathered? 11How is it you don’t understand that I was not talking to you about bread? But be on your guard against the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees.” 12Then they understood that he was not telling them to guard against the yeast used in bread, but against the teaching of the Pharisees and Sadducees.

COMMENTARY

5–7 The setting may be the boat in which Jesus and his disciples cross the lake (v.5; see Notes). The conversation reveals the contrasting attitudes of Jesus and his disciples. He is still thinking about the malignity of the Pharisees and Sadducees (vv.1–4), and the disciples are thinking about food (15:29–38), which they forgot to bring. Mark 8:14 says they were down to one loaf. (For “Pharisees and Sadducees” governed by one article, see

“Yeast” (v.6) was a common symbol for evil (see

8–12 Because they were men of little faith (v.8; cf. 6:30; 8:26; 14:31), they came to an unimaginative conclusion (v.7; see Notes). Jesus could not have been talking about bread because he had already shown his power to provide all the bread they needed (vv.9–10; cf. 14:13–21; 15:32–39). He had performed two “food” miracles, and there had been basketfuls of leftovers each time.

Jesus’ charge (v.11) against the disciples ran deep. Jesus had already denounced the Pharisees and Sadducees for their particular “teaching” that demanded manipulative signs instead of believing in the bountiful evidence already supplied. And now the disciples are perilously close to the same unbelief in Jesus’ person and miracles. The miracles Jesus performs, unlike the signs the Pharisees demand, do not compel faith; but those with faith will perceive their significance. Moreover, it is just possible that Jesus was asking his disciples to recognize symbolic meaning in the numbers of leftover baskets, here reiterated (see

Instead of explaining the meaning of his metaphor of the yeast, Jesus repeats it in both Matthew and Mark. This suggests that, great teacher that he is, he is trying to train his disciples to think deeply about the revelation he is giving and is not content to keep on spoon-feeding them. Only Matthew provides the interpretation (v.12); Mark leaves it to the reader to discern (but cf. Mt 15:19–20 and Mk 7:19).

NOTES

5 The NASB handles the tenses awkwardly: “The disciples came to the other side and had forgotten to take bread” (similarly ESV). The verb ἔρχομαι (erchomai, GK 2262) can mean “I come” as well as “I go,” and its aorist participle ἐλθόντες (elthontes) can indicate either action antecedent to (“having come,” “having gone”) or coordinate with (“coming,” “going”) the main verb. The NIV’s “When they went ..., the disciples forgot” is coherent and renders the verbs accurately.

7 The ὅτι (hoti) could be (1) recitative: the disciples said, “We didn’t bring any bread”; (2) causal: the disciples said, “[It is] because we didn’t bring any bread”; or (3) an abbreviated form of τί ἐστιν ὅτι (ti estin hoti), introducing a question, “Why did we bring no bread?” In light of v.7a, where the disciples discuss Jesus’ enigmatic saying among themselves, the second option is to be preferred.

OVERVIEW

Broadly speaking, Matthew and Mark treat Peter’s confession similarly. All three Synoptics (cf. Mk 8:27–30; Lk 9:19–21) immediately follow it by Jesus’ prediction of his sufferings, a theme Matthew develops (17:12, 22–23; 20:17–19). (For questions of structure, see

The connections between this key passage and the rest of Matthew are intricate. Some have already been dealt with (see

Peter’s role in this passage has been analyzed hundreds of times and is further discussed below. At the risk of oversimplification, we may classify the positions defended in this century into two classes. The first thinks of Peter as a “typical” disciple who speaks for the other disciples, who in turn represent all believers. Thus, everything said about Peter becomes a lesson for all Christians (e.g., Strecker, Weg der Gerechtigkeit, 205). The second sees Peter as in some way unique. He becomes a kind of supreme rabbi on whom Jesus builds his church, a rabbi who guarantees and transmits the traditions of Jesus in Matthew’s church (cf. esp. Hummel, Auseinandersetzung, 59ff.; C. Kahler, “Zur Form- und Traditionsgeschichte von Matth. xvi.17–19,” NTS 23 [1977]: 36–58).

In a balanced essay, J. D. Kingsbury (“The Figure of Peter in Matthew’s Gospel as a Theological Problem,” JBL 98 [1979]: 67–83) has shown how both alternatives distort the text. The second will not stand. Matthew’s gospel insists that only Jesus is to be called rabbi (23:8, 10) and that after his resurrection he himself will remain with his disciples to the end of the age (28:20; cf. 18:20). Moreover, if Peter is given power to bind and loose, so also is the church (18:18); and all of Jesus’ followers are to be involved in discipling and teaching the nations (28:18–19). Yet the first view is also simplistic. Matthew 16:16–17 is intensely personal, not merely representative. Whatever the precise meaning of these verses, Matthew presents Peter as the “first” disciple to be called (4:18–20; 10:2–4) and now the first one truly to understand that Jesus is the promised Messiah, the Son of God. So these passages honor his “salvation-historical primacy” (Kingsbury’s expression; cf. his “Figure of Peter”), and we must not do less.

For brief comments on problems connected with the authenticity of vv.17–19, see below.

13When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?”

14They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”

15“But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”

16Simon Peter answered, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

17Jesus replied, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven. 18And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. 19I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” 20Then he warned his disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Christ.

COMMENTARY

13 Caesarea Philippi was built by Herod Philip the tetrarch (cf. 2:20, 22), who enlarged a small town on a terrace 1150 feet above sea level at the base of Mount Hermon, renaming it in honor of Caesar, “Philippi” being added to distinguish it from the coastal city of the same name. It lies twenty-five miles north of Galilee. Snow-capped Mount Hermon can be seen on a clear day from as far away as Nazareth, where Jesus grew up. The inhabitants were largely Gentile. Though Jesus exercised some broader ministry here (17:14; cf. Mk 8:34), primarily he gave himself to the Twelve. Matthew omits Mark’s casual details (Mk 8:27).

In Mark and Luke, Jesus’ question leaves out the “Son of Man”: “Who do people say I am?” (For the title, see

14 Opinion on Jesus’ identity was divided. Some thought he was John the Baptist risen from the dead—Herod Antipas’s view (14:2). Those who thought he was Elijah saw him as forerunner to a Messiah still to come (see

“One of the prophets” testifies to the diversity of eschatological expectations in Jesus’ day, some of the people expecting a long series of prophetic forerunners. But no group was openly and thoughtfully confessing Jesus as Messiah. Probably aberrations such as 9:27; 15:22 were considered extravagant devices used by desperate people, not maliciously, but in deep hope that their own needs might be met. What we must recognize is that christological confession was not cut-and-dried, black or white. It was possible to address Jesus with some messianic title without complete conviction, or while still holding some major misconceptions about the nature of his messiahship, and therefore stopping short of unqualified allegiance or outright confession. If Peter had some misconception (vv. 22–23), how much more misconception would there be in disciples outside the Twelve? Thus, confessions like those in 9:27; 15:22 may not be so surprising.

15–16 The “you” is emphatic and plural (v.15). Therefore, at least in part, Peter serves as spokesman for the Twelve (as he often does: cf. 15:15–16; 19:25–28; 26:40; Mk 11:20–22; Lk 12:41; Jn 6:67–70; cf. Ac 2:37–38; 5:29). Peter’s confession (v.16) is direct: “You are the Christ” (Mark 8:29); “The Christ of God” (Luke 9:20); “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matthew). (For discussion about Messiah = Christ, see

Majority opinion assigns “the Son of the living God” to Matthean redaction, a sort of explanatory gloss. Yet this may be premature. Ben F. Meyer (Aims of Jesus, 185–97) has given good reason for accepting Matthew’s form as authentic: (1) It better explains the genesis of the other forms, not only in Mark and Luke but also “the Holy One of God” in John 6:69, than does Mark’s “You are the Christ”; (2) “Son of God” may well have had purely messianic significance in Peter’s mind (see

17–19 Many scholars doubt the authenticity of these verses because they are missing in Mark and Luke. We may note that in addition to positions that simply deny that these words are authentic (e.g., Bultmann, Theology of the New Testament, 1:45), there are more sophisticated options. O. Cullmann (Peter: Disciple-Apostle-Martyr [London: SCM Press, 1953], 158–70) holds that the saying is authentic but not the setting, which originally lay during the passion period, in some such place as Luke 22:31–38. R. E. Brown et al. (Peter in the New Testament, 85ff.) argue that the origin of this saying lies in some tradition on the resurrection. Max Wilcox (“Peter and the Rock: A Fresh Look at Matthew xvi.17–19,” NTS 22 [1976]: 73–88) believes that these verses spring from some ecclesiastical linking of Jesus as the Son with the “rejected stone” and related testimonia (Ps 118:22–23; Isa 8:14; 28:16), and that the possibility of linking “stone” with Peter’s name prompted the transfer of this category from Jesus to Peter. Critical orthodoxy largely concurs that “church” is an anachronism; that the omission of the word “this” in the Greek text of Matthew 16:17 suggests that the words did not originally stand here (so Cullmann); and that words such as “blessed,” “my Father,” and “in heaven” are characteristically Matthean and are therefore probably inauthentic.

But Ben F. Meyer (Aims of Jesus, 185–97) has mounted a detailed defense of the authenticity of vv.17–19. Some of his points, plus one or two others, are included below.

1. “Blessed” is not exclusively Matthean, and “my Father in heaven” no more vitiates the authenticity of this saying than it does the authenticity of the opening line of the Lord’s Prayer (6:9). This is so of any view of the relation between 6:9–13 and Luke 11:2–4, since a redactional formulation says nothing about authenticity unless we are thinking in terms only of ipsissima verba, not ipsissima vox (see Notes, 3:17).

2. The omission of “this” from the Greek in v.17 does not prove the saying was moved from some other place. Greek transitive verbs often omit the direct object where it is obvious. The verb in question, apokalyptō (“I reveal,” GK 636), is used transitively seven other times in the NT. Three of these require for clarity inclusion of the direct object. Of the remaining four (11:27; Lk 10:22; 1Co 2:10; Php 3:15), where the meaning is so clear that no direct object must be included, only one has it (Php 3:15). Matthew 16:17 fits the majority usage.

3. The use of “church” is not anachronistic; see

4. Meyer (pp. 189–90) advances good reasons for doubting Mark’s priority in this pericope but rightly points out that even if Matthew depends on Mark, this says nothing at all about the historical value of Matthew’s redaction (pp. 71–72; see Introduction, ).

5. The verb “reveal” has its closest links, not with any resurrection text, but with 11:25, where, as in v.17, “the Father’s revealing is correlative to the insight of faith, and the correlation ‘revelation/faith’ is placed in the present of the ministry” (Meyer, p. 192). Similar things can be said for the next closest parallel, namely, 11:27.

Though the history of the interpretation of these verses is even more tortuous than the recent history of critical opinion about them, part of it has been well chronicled by Joseph A. Burgess (A History of the Exegesis of Matthew 16:17–19 from 1781 to 1965 [Ann Arbor, Mich.: Edwards Brothers, 1976]).

17 For “Blessed,” see

On the other hand, we need not suppose that the idea that Jesus was Messiah was here entering the apostles’ minds for the first time. If so, Jesus’ closest disciples were remarkably obtuse (see

18 And I tell you ...: Bernhard Weiss (Das Matthäus-Evangelium [Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1898]) sees a contrast between Jesus and his Father, as if Jesus were saying, “Just as the Father revealed something to you and thereby honored you, so now I do the same.” But the formula is common enough in places without such a contrast, and this may be an unwarranted refinement. The words simply point to what is coming.

that you are Peter ...: The underlying Aramaic kêpā ʾ (“Cephas” in Jn 1:42; 1Co 15:5; Gal 1:18; et al.) was an accepted name in Jesus’ day (see

and on this rock ...: “Rock” now becomes petra (feminine), and on the basis of the distinction between petros (above) and petra (here), many have attempted to avoid identifying Peter as the rock on which Jesus builds his church. Peter is a mere “stone,” it is alleged, but Jesus himself is the “rock,” as Peter attests (1Pe 2:5–8) (so, among others, Lenski, Walvoord). Others adopt some other distinction; e.g., “upon this rock of revealed truth—the truth you have just confessed—I will build my church” (Allen). Yet if it were not for Protestant reactions against extremes of Roman Catholic interpretation, it is doubtful whether many would have taken “rock” to be anything or anyone other than Peter.

1. Although it is true that petros and petra can mean “stone” and “rock” respectively in earlier Greek, the distinction is largely confined to poetry. Moreover, the underlying Aramaic in this case is unquestionable, and most probably kêpā ʾ was used in both clauses (“you are kêpā ʾ, and on this kêpā ʾ”), since the word was used both for a name and for a “rock.” The Peshitta (written in Syriac, a language cognate with Aramaic) makes no distinction between the words in the two clauses. The Greek makes the distinction between petros and petra simply because it is trying to preserve the pun, and in Greek the feminine petra could not very well serve as a masculine name. For a full discussion of the linguistic issues, see Chrys C. Caragounis, Peter and the Rock (BZNW 58; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1989), 9–16.

2. Paronomasia of various kinds is very common in the Bible and should not be belittled (cf. Barry J. Beitzel, “Exodus 3:14 and the Divine Name: A Case of Biblical Paronomasia,” TJ 1 [1980]: 5–20; BDF, para. 488).

3. Had Matthew wanted to say no more than that Peter was a stone in contrast with Jesus the Rock, the more common word would have been lithos (“stone” of almost any size). Then there would have been no pun—and that is just the point!

4. The objection that Peter considers Jesus the rock is insubstantial because metaphors are commonly used variously, until they become stereotyped, and sometimes even then. Here Jesus builds his church; in 1 Corinthians 3:10, Paul is “an expert builder.” In 1 Corinthians 3:11, Jesus is the church’s foundation; in Ephesians 2:19–20, the apostles and prophets are the foundation (cf. Rev 21:14), and Jesus is the “cornerstone.” Here Peter has the keys; in Revelation 1:18; 3:7, Jesus has the keys. In John 9:5, Jesus is “the light of the world”; in Matthew 5:14, his disciples are. None of these pairs threatens Jesus’ uniqueness. They simply show how metaphors must be interpreted primarily with reference to their immediate contexts.

5. In this passage Jesus is the builder of the church, and it would be a strange mixture of metaphors that also sees him within the same clauses as its foundation.

None of this requires that conservative Roman Catholic views be endorsed (for examples of such views, cf. Lagrange, Sabourin). The text says nothing about Peter’s successors, infallibility, or exclusive authority. These late interpretations entail insuperable exegetical and historical problems—e.g., after Peter’s death, his “successor” would have authority over a surviving apostle, John. What the NT does show is that Peter is the first to make this formal confession and that his prominence continues in the earliest years of the church (Ac 1–12). But he, along with John, can be sent by other apostles (Ac 8:14), and he is held accountable for his actions by the Jerusalem church (Ac 11:1–18) and rebuked by Paul (Gal 2:11–14). He is, in short, primus inter pares (“first among equals”), and on the foundation of such men (Eph 2:20), Jesus built his church. That is precisely why Jesus, toward the close of his earthly ministry, spent so much time with them. The honor was not earned but stemmed from divine revelation (v.17) and Jesus’ building work (v.18).

I will build my church ...: The term ekklēsia (“church,” GK 1711) occurs only here and at 18:17 in the Gospels. Etymologically, it springs from the verb ekkaleō (“call out from”) and refers to those who are “called out”; but usage is far more important than etymology in determining meaning. In the NT, ekklēsia can refer to assemblies of people in a nonreligious setting (Ac 19:39), and once it refers to God’s OT people, the “church” in the desert at the giving of the law (Ac 7:38; cf. Heb 2:12). But in Acts and in the Epistles it usually refers to Christian congregations or to all God’s people redeemed by Christ. Therefore R. Bultmann (“Die Frage nach der Echtheit von Mt 16:17–19,” TBl 20 [1941]: 265–79) argues that the use of ekklēsia in Matthew 16:18; 18:17 cannot be authentic. It refers to a practicing group of Christians, a separate community, or a Christian synagogue in contrast to the Jewish synagogues, and is presided over by Peter.

K. L. Schmidt (TDNT, 3:525) suggests that the Aramaic term behind ekklēsia in Matthew is a late term, k^enîštā ʾ, which could mean either “the people [of God]” or “a [separate] synagogue.” In fact, the strongest linguistic evidence runs in another direction. Whenever ekklēsia in the LXX is translating Hebrew, the Hebrew word is qāhāl (“assembly,” “meeting,” “gathering,” GK 7736), with reference to various kinds of “assemblies” (cf. THAT, 2:610–19), but increasingly used to refer to God’s people, the assembly of Yahweh.

The Hebrew qāhāl has a broad semantic range and is not always rendered ekklēsia; sometimes in the LXX it is translated “synagogue” or “crowd.” “Synagogue” customarily translates an entirely different Hebrew word (ʿēdâ, “corporate congregation,” GK 6337), which the LXX never translates ekklēsia (on these words, see NIDNTT, 1:292–96). Thus ekklēsia (“church”) is entirely appropriate in Matthew 16:18; 18:17, where there is no emphasis on institution, organization, form of worship, or separate synagogue. Even the idea of “building” a people springs from the OT (Ru 4:11; 2Sa 7:13–14; 1Ch 17:12–13; Pss 28:5; 118:22; Jer 1:10; 24:6; 31:4; 33:7; Am 9:11). “Jesus’ announcement of his purpose to build his ekklēsia suggests ... that the fellowship established by Jesus stands in direct continuity with the Old Testament Israel” (Ladd, Theology of the New Testament, 110), construed as the faithful remnant with the eyes of faith to come to terms with the new revelation. Acknowledged as Messiah, Jesus responds that he will build his ekklēsia, his people, his church—which is classic messianism. “It is hard to know what kind of thinking, other than confessional presupposition, justifies the tendency of some commentators to dismiss this verse as not authentic. A Messiah without a messianic community would have been unthinkable to any Jew” (Albright and Mann, 195).

Implicitly, then, the verse also embraces a claim to messiahship. The “people of Yahweh” become the people of Messiah (cf. 13:41). If the Qumran community thinks of itself as the “people of the covenant,” Jesus speaks of his followers as his people—his church—who come, in time, to see themselves as people of the new covenant established by Messiah’s blood (26:28).

Jesus’ “church” is not the same as his “kingdom” (contra Hill). The two words belong to different concepts, the one to “people” and the other to “rule” or “reign” (see

and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. On Hades, see NIDNTT, 2:206–8; Str-B, 4:1016–29;

19 I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven: As in v.18, the promise goes beyond the days of Jesus’ earthly ministry. What Jesus’ disciples thought this meant at the time is uncertain. Perhaps they hoped that when Jesus established his earthly reign and defeated the Romans, they would hold major posts under his reign (cf. Bonnard). In the postresurrection period, the nature of this inaugurated kingdom became progressively clearer. Hannan (Nature and Demands, 143) is correct to observe that “the power Jesus grants with these keys must also be connected with the authority to interpret the Law correctly as Jesus himself has done.”

Here, as in 7:21, the “kingdom” (see

whatever you bind ... loosed in heaven ...: Five separate and difficult questions must be considered to understand the force of this verse, and some answers must be tentative.

1. How are the future periphrastic perfects to be translated? The answers to the question are multifaceted, sometimes mutually contradictory, and in any case complex. During most of the twentieth century, the debate circled around whether or not the perfect tense is invariably used to signal action or state that has come about in the past with continuing effect. In 1938, J. R. Mantey (“The Mistranslation of the Perfect Tense in John 20:23, Matthew 16:19, and Matthew 18:18,” JBL 58 [1939]: 243–49) argued that the perfects in all three instances must have their “normal” force (under the assumption, of course, that this temporal configuration is “normal”). The finite perfect in John 20:23 must be rendered “If you forgive anyone his sins, they have already been forgiven”; and when the perfect participle is given its “normal” force in the Matthean passages, the periphrastic future perfect in v.19 becomes “whatever you bind on earth shall have been bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall have been loosed in heaven” (similarly for 18:18). Mantey tied his understanding of the Greek perfect to the thesis that there is no evidence for “sacerdotalism or priestly absolution” in the NT.

In the same issue of JBL, H. J. Cadbury (“The Meaning of John 20:23, Matthew 16:19, and Matthew 18:18,” 251–54) noted that the six perfects or future perfects in the three passages all occur in the apodosis of a general condition. The question, then, is “whether a perfect in the apodosis indicates an action or condition prior to the time of the apodosis” (p. 251); citing 1 John 2:5; James 2:10; Romans 13:8; 14:23, along with certain grammarians (e.g., BDF, para. 344; Grammar, 897–98, 908), he denied that this must be so. Although he thought the future an acceptable translation here, he suggested that in Matthew the perfects have the force “shall be once for all” (cf. Allen’s “Whatsoever thou bindest shall remain bound, etc.,” 177).

The matter was picked up by W. T. Dayton (“The Greek Perfect Tense in Relation to John 20:23, Matthew 16:19, and Matthew 18:18” [ThD diss., Northern Baptist Theological Seminary, 1945]) and once more by J. R. Mantey (“Evidence That the Perfect Tense in John 20:23 and Matthew 16:19 Is Mistranslated,” JETS 16 [1973]: 129–38). Both works are marred by the tendency to cite quotations from grammarians in their favor without a fair handling of counterarguments. Of greater use are Dayton’s short lists of periphrastic future perfects in Strabo, Lucian, and some papyri, for all these retain “normal” perfect force, even when used in the apodosis of a general condition. This is valuable comparative material, since periphrastic future perfects in the NT are rather rare, and there are no finite future perfects at all.

Before pursuing the grammatical question, it must be noted that, regardless of whether v.19 is translated as an English future perfect or as an English future, scholars have at times tried to bleed a bit too much theology out of their grammatical conclusions. For instance, if the tense is translated as a future (“shall be bound”), the passage could be taken to justify some form of extreme sacerdotalism without unambiguous defense elsewhere in the NT. But if it is translated as a future perfect (“shall have been bound”), it could be taken to support the notion that the disciple must therefore enjoy infallible communication from God in every question of “binding and loosing,” a communication that is the role of the so-called charismatic gifts. Paul Elbert (“The Perfect Tense in Matthew 16:19 and Three Charismata,” JETS 17 [1974]: 149–55) introduces them here with no sensitivity to broader questions of context, awareness of anachronism, or consciousness that the gifts do not provide infallible guidance (cf. 1Co 14:29). But in neither case do these conclusions necessarily follow. More moderate interpretations of both grammatical options are possible. The truth is that neither sacerdotalism nor a set of charismatic assumptions will stand or fall by these texts alone, though it may be helped or hindered by them.

Commentators and grammarians from the middle of the twentieth century on are divided on this question. Hendriksen, who finds Mantey’s way of taking the perfects “artificial,” opts for “shall be and shall definitely remain bound/loosed,” a variation of Allen—and Hendriksen can scarcely be called a sacerdotalist. Many grammarians treat the perfect participle in this construction as little more than an adjective, with little “normal” perfect sense remaining (K. L. McKay, “On the Perfect and Other Aspects in New Testament Greek,” NovT 23 [1981]: 289–329); Moule, Idiom Book, 18; cf. Lk 12:52, where it is very difficult to find any “normal” perfect force at all [“there will be ... divided”: the parallel future passive in the next verse makes this clear]). But Turner (Grammatical Insights, 80–82; Syntax, 82) challenges these views. In disagreeing with Allen and Hendriksen, he points out that the future force is restricted to the auxiliary verb estai (“will be”) and is not found in the participle, which must retain its “normal” perfect sense, thereby agreeing with Mantey. Turner further argues that this is even clearer in John 20:23, where the finite perfect, not the periphrastic future perfect, is used. Similarly Albright and Mann say, “The church on earth carries out heaven’s decisions, not heaven ratifying the church’s decisions,” which is something of a caricature of the options.

What Turner (Syntax, 82–83) and Zerwick (Biblical Greek, para. 288–89) argue is that where finite perfects have some force other than the “normal” perfect in the NT, they tend to be in well-known stereotyped forms: oida (“I know,” not “I have known”); pepoitha (“I am persuaded”); hestēka (“I stand”). Similar is the periphrastic future perfect in Hebrews 2:13. Although esomai pepoithōs means “I will put my trust” (NIV), not “I will have put my trust,” this participle commonly takes on perfect form with present meaning. Likewise, when the perfect has an aorist force (Zerwick, Biblical Greek, para. 288–89; as at 13:46), there are normally good reasons for it, as when the verb is defective and has no aorist form (cf. BDF, para. 340ff.).

In some ways, this discussion of the semantics of the perfect participle was overlooking an obvious point. From the eighteenth century on, grammarians largely abandoned the attempt to discern in each Greek tense, in every mood, some reflection of time. Rather, outside the indicative, Aktionsart (“kind of action”) was said to be reflected in the tenses; time was preserved only in the indicative mood. By the twentieth century, this was an almost universal perception of how the Greek verbal system “works.” It is hard to think of a major figure who would dispute this analysis for the aorist and the present tenses. So why was time controlling so much of the discussion of the perfect participle in Matthew 16:19?

From the end of the twentieth century to the present, however, analysis of the Greek verbal system became more and more focused on verbal aspect theory. (For readers who are familiar with this theory, my summary of the dominant options in the next paragraph or two will make sense; readers who have not yet come to grips with the linguistic terminology in which verbal aspect is discussed might want to skip a paragraph or two, as this is not the place to outline theories that have become subtle and complex.) As far as the perfect tense is concerned, however, under verbal aspect theory three options now dominate: (1) Some hold that the Greek perfect, in all moods, is perfective in aspect, though they do not agree on other semantic components. Buist M. Fanning (Verbal Aspect in New Testament Greek [Oxford: Clarendon, 1990]) argues the perfect is perfective in aspect, past in time, and stative in Aktionsart. Mari Broman Olsen (A Semantic and Pragmatic Model of Lexical and Grammatical Aspect [New York: Garland, 1997]) thinks the perfect is perfective in aspect and present in tense, and without stativity. (2) Others, such as Kenneth L. McKay (A New Syntax of the Verb in New Testament Greek: An Aspectual Approach [SBG 5; New York: Lang, 1994]) and Stanley E. Porter (Verbal Aspect in the Greek of the New Testament, with Reference to Tense and Mood [SBG 1; New York: Lang, 1989]), hold that the perfect tense encodes stativity only; i.e., it is stative in aspect. McKay and Porter disagree primarily on whether this “stative” category applies to the subject of the verb or to the action/state of the verb. (3) Two scholars hold that the Greek perfect is imperfective in aspect; i.e., they hold that the perfect tense depicts action internally, as though unfolding (T. V. Evans, Verbal Syntax in the Greek Pentateuch: Natural Greek Usage and Hebrew Interference [Oxford: Oxford Univ. Press, 2001]; Constantine R. Campbell, Verbal Aspect, the Indicative Mood, and Narrative: Soundings in the Greek of the New Testament [SBG 13; New York: Lang, 2007]). With some hesitations and minor adjustments, I hold that the second (McKay and Porter) is the most defensible position. That means the perfect tense does not by itself establish time relations, but the state or condition established by the lexis of the verb in interaction with the context. Temporal relations are established not by the tense itself but by a wide array of deictic markers.

This leads us to the following conclusion: Where questions dealing strictly with Greek syntax are asked, it seems impossible to reach a firm decision that will satisfy a majority of readers. Perhaps we can make a little progress by asking paradigmatic questions: Why was the Greek perfect (Jn 20:23) or the Greek periphrastic perfect (Mt 16:19) used instead of something else? In John, both perfect verbs have acceptable present and future tenses used elsewhere; neither verb exhibits a preferential pattern for the perfect. The perfect participles in the periphrastic constructions of Matthew 16:19; 18:18 are based on the two verbs lyō (“I loose,” GK 3395) and deō (“I bind,” GK 1313). Evidence regarding the latter is ambiguous; it often occurs as a perfect participle in the NT, sometimes as an aorist participle, never as a present participle; so one might hold that its perfect participle form has purely adjectival or present force in some instances—a debatable point. But the former is unambiguous. Lyō has a full range of forms, and it is difficult to see why Matthew did not use either the future or the present participle in a periphrastic future if he was merely trying to denote expectation of what is to be. This result spills over onto deō (“I bind”), since the two verbs are so tightly linked in these verses. If we think exclusively in temporal categories, the relevant expressions must either be rendered “shall be bound/loosed” or “shall have been bound/loosed.” But if the perfect encodes stative aspect, then the apodosis tells us the state of affairs (“bound/loosed”) without necessary reference to time, apart from what is discerned from the context. We might paraphrase the apodosis, with magnificent temporal ambiguity, “stands bound/loosed” or the like. But what does this mean? To answer the question we must bring into the discussion a further range of exegetical details.

2. Does the “whatever” (ho) refer to things or people? Formally ho is neuter, and “things” might be expected. Moreover, the rabbis spoke of “binding” and “loosing” in terms of laying down halakah (rules of conduct): Shammai is strict and “binds” many things on the people, while Hillel allows greater laxity and “looses” them. It might be argued, then, that in Acts 15:10, Peter looses what certain Jewish believers want to bind. Yet despite this, it is better to take the binding and loosing in v.19 to refer to persons, not rules. The neuter hosa (“whatever”) occurs in 18:18, where the context demands that persons are meant. Indeed, Greek often uses the neuter of people for classes or categories rather than for individuals. The context of v.19 supports this, for the “keys” in the preceding clause speak of permission for entering the kingdom or being excluded from it, not rules of conduct under heaven’s reign. Acts 15:10 is scarcely an example of the opposite viewpoint, for there Peter does not proceed by legislative fiat. The church in Acts 15 seeks spiritually minded consensus, not imposed halakoth, and James is more prominent than Peter.

3. But exactly what is meant by this “binding and loosing” of persons, and is it absolute? And how is it related to the power of “the keys”? Substantial help comes from comparing Jesus’ denunciation of the teachers of the law in Luke 11:52. There they are told that they “have taken away the key to knowledge” and have not only failed to enter [the kingdom] themselves but have “hindered those who were entering.” Clearly, then, by their approach to the Scriptures, Jesus says they are making it impossible for those who fall under the malign influences of their teaching to accept the new revelation in Jesus and enter the kingdom. They take away “the key to knowledge.”

In contrast, Peter, on confessing Jesus as Messiah, is told he has received this confession by the Father’s revelation and will be given the keys of the kingdom—i.e., by proclaiming “the good news of the kingdom” (4:23), which by revelation he is increasingly understanding, he will open the kingdom to many and shut it against many. Fulfillments of this in Acts are not found in passages like 15:10 but in those like 2:14–39 and 3:11–26, so that by this means the Lord added to the church those who were being saved (Ac 2:47)—or, otherwise put, Jesus was building his church (Mt 16:18). But the same gospel proclamation alienates and excludes men, so we also find Peter shutting up the kingdom against certain people (Ac 4:11–12; 8:20–23). The periphrastic future perfects are then perfectly natural. Peter accomplishes this binding and loosing by proclaiming a gospel that has already been given and by making personal application on that basis (e.g., Simon Magus). Whatever he binds or looses will have been bound or loosed, as long as he adheres to that divinely disclosed gospel. He has no direct pipeline to heaven; still less do his decisions force heaven to comply. But he may be authoritative in binding and loosing because heaven has acted first (cf. Ac 18:9–10). Those he ushers in or excludes have already been bound or loosed by God according to the gospel already revealed and which Peter, by confessing Jesus as the Messiah, has most clearly grasped.

4. Does this promise apply to Peter only, to the apostolic band, or to the church at large? The interpretation given so far broadly fits a major theme of Matthew’s gospel: the disciples were called to be fishers of men (4:19), to be salt (5:13) and light (5:14–16), to preach the good news of the kingdom (10:6–42), and, after the resurrection, to disciple the nations and teach them all that Jesus commanded (28:18–20). Within this framework, Matthew 16:18–19 fits very well. Unlike the messianic kingdom expected by so many Jews, which would come climactically without any agreement or action taken by human beings, Jesus announces something different. In full Christian perspective, the kingdom will be consummated in sudden, apocalyptic fashion at the Parousia, when God’s actions are final and quite independent of human means. But now the keys of the kingdom are confided to Christians. They must proclaim the Good News, forbid entrance, and urge conversion. They constitute a small minority in a big world. Their mission will be to function as the eschatological ekklēsia, the people of God that Jesus is building within this world. Inevitably the assignment involves them in using the keys to bind and loose. These verses are therefore the result of the partially realized—and one day to be consummated—eschatology implicit in the NT.

Understanding the text in this way largely answers the question as to how far the promise applies, for the focus is no longer on the individual and what he or she does or does not represent but on that individual’s place in salvation history. In one sense, Peter stands with the other disciples as fishers of men, as recipients of the Great Commission (notice in v.20 that Jesus warns all his disciples, not just Peter, to tell no one). In that sense, the disciples stand as paradigms for all believers during this period of redemptive history. But this does not exclude a special role for Peter or the apostles (see

Confirmation that this is the way v.19 is to be taken comes at 18:18. If the church, Messiah’s eschatological people already gathered now, has to exercise the ministry of the keys, if it must bind and loose, then clearly one aspect will be the discipline of those who profess to constitute it. Thus the two passages are tightly joined: 18:18 is a special application of 16:19. Again, if we may judge from Paul’s ministry, this discipline is a special function of apostles but also of elders and even of the whole church (1Co 5:1–13; 2Co 13:10; Tit 2:15; 3:10–11)—an inescapable part of following Jesus during this age of the inaugurated kingdom and of the proleptic gathering of Messiah’s people. The church of Jesus the Christ is more than an audience. It is a group with confessional standards, one of which (namely, “Jesus is the Christ”) here precipitates Jesus’ remarks regarding the keys. The continuity of the church depends as much on discipline as on truth. Indeed, faithful promulgation of the latter both entails and presupposes the former.

It appears, then, that the text is not interested in whether Peter’s (or the church’s) decisions are infallible. Its concern is with the role Jesus’ disciples must play within this new phase of redemptive history. To press the “whatever” absolutely not only misunderstands the context but fails to reckon with Jesus’ tendency to use absolutist language, even when he cannot possibly mean to be taken that way (see

5. How is the contrast between “heaven” and “earth” to be understood? Our exegesis determines the answer. Some have understood the contrast temporally: What is bound or loosed now on earth will be bound or loosed then in heaven. But it is better to see God’s realm breaking into the sinful, human realm. “Heaven” has revealed the gospel in the person of Jesus the Messiah, and heaven’s rule has thereby broken in. (On the strange fact that the plural of “heaven” is used here in v.19, while the singular is used in 18:18, see Pennington, Heaven and Earth, 147–49.) Thus Jesus’ disciples, in accordance with his gospel of the kingdom, take up the ministry of the keys and bind and loose on earth that which, with the coming of the kingdom, stands bound and loosed in heaven. The thought is akin to, though more comprehensive than, Acts 18:9–10.

20 Jesus’ warning his disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Christ does not stem from personal reluctance to accept the title, nor from merely qualified acceptance subject to teaching that he was a suffering Messiah (vv.21–26), still less because all the commands to keep silent are church constructions designed to create a “messianic secret” to explain why Jesus failed openly to present himself to the people as Messiah. The categories are wrong. “Contrary to common misappropriation of the messianic secret, it was not Jesus’ purpose to conceal his messianic identity. It was his purpose to set before Israel symbol-charged acts and words implying a persistent question: Who do you say that I am?” (Ben F. Meyer, Aims of Jesus, 305 n. 59; see also pp. 250, 309–10 nn. 119–20). Jesus steadily refused to make an explicit messianic claim, declining to bow to demands for a definitive sign (12:38–39; 16:4) and insisting that the “step into messianic faith would be taken only under the combined impact of his densely symbolic career and of a divine illumination disclosing its sense” (ibid., 250; cf. 11:4, 25–26; 16:17).

The disciples are now charged to exercise the same reticence. Having come to faith, they must not go beyond the Master himself in the means and limitations of his self-disclosure. The aim must not be to hide Jesus’ identity from Israel or to keep it an esoteric secret but to guarantee (1) that the decisive factors in the conversion of men are not nationalistic fervor and impenitent messianic expectation but faith, obedience, and submission to Jesus; and (2) that the events leading to the cross are not to be short-circuited by premature disclosure. After the resurrection, there could be unqualified proclamation (cf. 10:27), but not yet. The disciples were beginning to comprehend the first of these two aims, but the second, as the next pericope shows, completely eluded them (see

NOTES

14 On the anomalous mixing of ἄλλοι (alloi, “others”) and ἕτεροι (heteroi, “others”), see BDF, para. 306 (2).

17 Βαριωνᾶ (Bariōna) is a Greek transliteration of (bar yônâ), where bar means “son of” (cf. English Johnson, Robinson, et al.). In John 1:42, Peter is called “son of John” (in Gr.; there is no transliteration from the Aram.). Probably Peter was called (bar yôḥānēn, “son of Johanan”), and “Jonah” is a shortened form of “Johanan,” whereas ᾽Ιωάννης (Iōannēs, “John”) is the closest Greek translation of the name.

18 Often cited as a parallel to Peter as a rock is Isaiah 51:1–2. But the analogy is not close. The point of the Isaiah passage is that Israel should remember her poor beginnings and be conscious of Yahweh’s goodness toward her. Still less relevant, though formally closer, is the Jewish Midrash on Isaiah 51:1–2, where God, before creating the world, looks ahead until he finds Abraham and says, “Behold, I have found a rock on which I can build and found the world”; but there the point concerns Abraham’s merits and worth, quite clearly not paralleled by Peter in Matthew 16. For rabbinic references and some of the impact of the exegesis on the Targums, see N. A. van Uchelen, “The Targumic Versions of Deuteronomy 33:15: Some Remarks on the Origin of a Traditional Exegesis,” JSS 31 (1980): 199–209.

21From that time on Jesus began to explain to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life.

22Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. “Never, Lord!” he said. “This shall never happen to you!”

23Jesus turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men.”

COMMENTARY

21 Kingsbury (Structure, 7ff.), following Lohmeyer, argues strongly that apo tote (“From that time”), both here and at 4:17, marks a major turning point in Matthew. Turning point there is, but it is not at all clear that the structure of the entire gospel is dominated by these twin foci. The same expression is found in 26:16, which marks a turning point in Judas Iscariot’s pilgrimage but scarcely a major turning point in the book. On the contrary, the very nature of the expression links what follows with what precedes (see Introduction, ).

For the meaning of “began,” see

The prediction is remarkably detailed. Jesus must go to Jerusalem (cf. Lk 13:33), but the “must” of Jesus’ suffering lies, not in unqualified determinism or in heroic determination (though some of both is present), but in willing submission to his Father’s will. The nature of this “must” becomes clearest in the passion narrative: he must suffer and die in line with what Scripture stipulates (26:24, 31, 54, 56), prompting Davies and Allison to comment that “must” in Matthew “is the functional equivalent of γέγραπται [‘it is written’]” (2:656; cf. France [NICNT]). At Jerusalem, the killer of prophets (23:37), he will suffer many things (more details specified in 20:19) at the hands of the elders, chief priests, and teachers of the law—the three groups that largely constituted the Sanhedrin (see

The parallel in Mark 8:31 uses Son of Man language (see

Lindars (New Testament Apologetic, 60ff.) turns to Hosea 6:2 and suggests that historically Jesus spoke of resurrection, of being “raised to life,” in a metaphor, as referring to the restoration of God’s people. If so, what is surprising, especially in a book as studded with OT quotations as Matthew, is that Hosea is not mentioned, nor are his words clearly referred to, even allusively. On the face of it, our texts speak of Jesus’ resurrection after being killed, not of Jesus’ death followed by the restoration of God’s people. Others have suggested that Jesus is thinking of Isaiah 53.

These approaches seek to make some part of Jesus’ passion predictions historically credible through some historical antecedent on which Jesus allegedly based his predictions. While this is not wrong, it is too restrictive for dealing with one who claims exclusive and intimate knowledge of the Father (11:27). Is it reasonable to think that Jesus could have predicted the details of his passion only if he read about them somewhere? This is not to question the applicability of some of the OT allusions to him; it is rather to question the historical reductionism of some gospel research.

How much of Jesus’ sayings about his death did the disciples understand before the events? The gospel evidence points in two complementary directions. On the one hand, the disciples understand perfectly well; otherwise, for instance, Peter could not possibly have rebuked Jesus (v.22). On the other hand, they cannot believe that Messiah will really be killed because their conceptions of the Messiah do not allow for a Suffering Servant. Therefore, Peter dares to rebuke Jesus, and the disciples begin to think that Jesus’ predictions of his sufferings must be in some way nonliteral (Mk 9:10; Lk 9:45; see

22 Peter’s rebuke reveals how little he understands the kind of messiahship Jesus has in mind. “Began” (cf. v.21) suggests that Peter gets only so far before Jesus cuts him off (v.23). Peter uses very strong language. “Never, Lord!” (see Notes) is a vehement Septuagintalism. “This shall never happen to you!” renders ou mē (“never”) plus a future indicative, instead of the expected aorist subjunctive. The future indicative after ou mē, which makes a strong expression even stronger, is comparatively rare in the NT (only here and in 15:6; 26:35; Mk 13:31; 14:31; Lk 21:33; Jn 4:14; 6:35; 10:5; Heb 10:17; Rev 9:6; 18:14), and most of these occurrences have textual variants. Peter’s strong will and warm heart linked to his ignorance produce a shocking bit of arrogance. He confesses that Jesus is the Messiah and then speaks in a way that implies he knows more of God’s will than the Messiah himself.

23 That “Jesus turned” means “Jesus turned away from Peter” or “turned his back on Peter” is doubtful. The connection with what follows is too awkward. If Jesus told Peter to get out of his way, even metaphorically, it must have been that Jesus was confronting him face-to-face, not turning away from him. It is better to assume that Jesus turned toward Peter to speak to him, the detail implying an indelible historical reminiscence. The sharp rebuke is made up of three parts.

1. Hypage opisō mou, Satana (lit., “Go behind me, Satan”) could, by itself, be a call to discipleship (cf. the same adverb in Mk 1:17, 20; 8:34) and therefore be a sharp reminder for Peter to remember that as a disciple he must follow, not lead. But this ill suits the vocative “Satan.” The verb hypagō (GK 5632) is therefore best taken in the way it is used in Matthew 4:10 (“Away from me, Satan”). It is not simply that Peter should get out of Jesus’ sight but, as a stumbling block, out of Jesus’ way.

2. A few moments earlier, Jesus had called Peter a rock. Now he calls him a different kind of “rock,” a skandalon (“a stumbling block,” GK 4998; see

3. Peter was not thinking (the verb phroneō [NIV, “have in mind”], common in Paul, is used elsewhere in the NT only here, in Mk 8:33, and in Ac 28:22) God’s thoughts (namely, that Jesus must go to Jerusalem and die, v.21), but men’s thoughts (namely, that he must not go). In vv.13–17, Peter, unlike other men, did think God’s thoughts because divine revelation was given him. Here, however, he has switched sides, aligning himself not only with men but with Satan.

Many scholars have thought the contrast between Peter in vv.13–20 and vv.21–23 so remarkable that they have worked out elaborate explanations. The most common view is that Peter is a stumbling block during Jesus’ earthly ministry but becomes a foundation stone after the resurrection (Brown et al., Peter in the New Testament, 94). There is an element of truth in this because Jesus’ promise to Peter (vv.17–19) does look to the future. But it looks to the future on the basis of the revelation Peter has already grasped (vv.16–17). This means that historically Peter did and did not understand. Along with the other disciples, he understood much more than the crowds; yet even so, he did not reach full understanding until after the resurrection. The juxtaposition of vv.13–20 and vv.21–23 clearly shows the (at best) qualified understanding of Jesus’ disciples at this point in salvation history (cf. Trotter, “Understanding and Stumbling”).

NOTES

21 The variants are very difficult. Most witnesses support ὁ ᾽Ιησοῦς (ho Iēsous, “Jesus”); * B* sa^mss bo offer ᾽Ιησοῦς Χριστός (Iēsous Christos, “Jesus Christ”). The latter has early and important but very limited attestation. Its strength is that it admirably fits the context, after Jesus has just been confessed as being the Christ. By the same token, a copyist might well think the same. The title in the second reading is very rare, which makes it the lectio difficilior (“the harder reading”). Internal evidence is therefore ambivalent. On external grounds alone, the first reading is to be preferred. A few witnesses omit both, probably due to accidental deletion, something easily done in Uncial scripts, where the names were regularly abbreviated to IC and XC respectively.

22 ῞Ιλεώς σοι, κύριε (Hileōs soi, kyrie, “Never, Lord”) has been understood two ways.

1. The word ἵλεως, hileōs, used in the NT only here and in Hebrews 8:12, is taken to mean “propitious,” “merciful,” “gracious”—and the entire expression is an abbreviation of something longer, either ἵλεως εἴη σοι ὁ θεός (hileōs eiē soi ho theos, “May God be merciful to you”) or ἵλεως ἔσται σοι ὁ θεός (hileōs estai soi ho theos, “God will be merciful to you”). Coupled with what Peter says next, the rebuke is still there but in rather soft language: “This won’t happen to you, Lord, for God will be merciful to you” or “may God be merciful to you” (cf. Moulton, Grammar: Prolegomena, 240; TDNT, 3:300–301).

2. It is far more likely that ἵλεως, hileōs, is merely a homonymic rendering of the Hebrew (ḥālîlâ, “far be it from”). This is a common Septuagintalism and has the force in confrontational situations of a very strong “Never!” or “Be it far from you!” or “God forbid!” For references and discussion, see Turner, Syntax, 309; H. St. J. Thackeray, A Grammar of the Old Testament in Greek According to the Septuagint (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1909), 1:38; BDF, para. 128 (5).

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