b. The danger of being undiscerning (7:6)

b. The danger of being undiscerning (7:6)

OVERVIEW

Three important debates bear on the interpretation of these complex yet programmatic verses.

1. Apart from parallels to v.18 in Mark 13:31 and Luke 16:17, these verses have no synoptic parallel. Partly because of this, many have argued that these four verses represent four separate sayings from different and even conflicting churches or strata, heavily edited by Matthew (for discussion and examples, see R. G. Hamerton-Kelly, “Attitudes to the Law in Matthew’s Gospel,” BR 17 [1972]: 19–32; Arens, ῏Ηλθον-sayings, 91–116). G. Barth, for instance, insists that the leap from v.19 to v.20 is so great that both could not have come from Matthew (“Matthew’s Understanding of the Law,” 66). A better synthesis is possible. Yet even if the leap between these verses were as great as Barth imagines, what possessed Matthew (or the “final redactor”) to put them together? He must have thought they meant something. And then how does one distinguish methodologically between weak links discerned by a redactor and weak links written up by an author? We will focus primary attention on the meaning of the text as it stands.

2. The theological and canonical ramifications of one’s exegetical conclusions on this pericope are so numerous that discussion becomes freighted with the intricacies of biblical theology. At stake are the relation between the Testaments, the place of law in the context of gospel, and the relation of this pericope to other NT passages that unambiguously affirm that certain parts of the law have been abrogated as obsolete (e.g., Mk 7:19; Ac 10–11; Heb 7:1–9:10). Only glancing attention may be given to these issues here.

3. It is often argued that the setting of the pericope is debate in the church, especially among Palestinian Jewish Christians, about the continuation of law. There is no inherent implausibility in this hypothesis if by setting we refer to the circle in which these teachings were preserved because of their immediate relevance. But we must remember that Matthew presents these sayings as the teaching of the historical Jesus, not the creation of the church; and we detect no implausibility in his claim. More important, this view is often tied to the assumption that Matthew’s community is essentially law observing in a comprehensive way, but that Matthew’s understanding of what this means is filtered through the love commandment and the Golden Rule (7:12) at the center (e.g., Wolfgang Reinbold, “Das Matthäusevangelium, die Pharisäer und die Tora,” BZ 50 [2006]: 51–73). This approach fails to wrestle adequately with the ways in which Jesus is himself the eschatological fulfillment of hopes and anticipations established by the antecedent revelation of the Old Testament.

17“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. 18I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. 19Anyone who breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven.”

COMMENTARY

17 The formula “Do not think that” (or “Never think that,” Turner, Syntax, 77) is repeated by Jesus in 10:34 (cf. 3:9). Jesus’ two sayings were designed to set aside potential misunderstandings as to the nature of the kingdom, but neither demonstrably flows out of open confrontation on the issue at stake. Matthew has not yet recorded any charge that Jesus was breaking the law. (On the relation between these verses and the preceding pericopes, see W. J. Dumbull, “The Logic of the Role of the Law in Matthew 5:1–20,” NovT 23 [1981]: 1–21.)

Some have argued that many Jews in Jesus’ day believed that law would be set aside and a new law introduced at Messiah’s coming (cf. Davies, Setting, 109ff., 446ff.). But this view has been decisively qualified by R. Banks (“The Eschatological Role of Law,” in Pre- and Post-Christian Jewish Thought [ed. R. Banks; Exeter: Paternoster, 1982], 173–85; Jesus and the Law, 65ff.), who presents a more nuanced treatment.

The upshot of the debate is that the introductory words “Do not think that” must be understood, not as the refutation of some well-entrenched and clearly defined position, but as a teaching device Jesus used to clarify certain aspects of the kingdom and of his own mission and to remove potential misunderstandings. Moreover, comparison with 10:34 shows that the antithesis may not be absolute. Few would want to argue that there is no sense in which Jesus came to bring peace (see

The words “I have come” do not necessarily prove Jesus’ consciousness of his preexistence, for “coming” language can be used of prophets and indeed is used of the Baptist (11:18–19). But it can also speak of coming into the world (common in John; cf. 1Ti 1:15) and, in light of Matthew’s prologue, is probably meant to attest Jesus’ divine origins. At very least, it shows Jesus was sent on a mission (cf. Maier).

Jesus’ mission was not to “abolish” (a term more frequently connected with the destruction of buildings [24:2; 26:61; 27:40], but not exclusively so [e.g., 2 Macc 2:22]) “the Law or the Prophets.” By these words Matthew forms a new inclusio (5:17–7:12), which marks out the body of the sermon and shows that Jesus is taking pains to relate his teaching and place in the history of redemption to the OT Scriptures. For that is what “the Law or the Prophets” here means—the Scriptures. The disjunctive “or” makes it clear that neither is to be abolished. The Jews of Jesus’ day could refer to the Scriptures as “the Law and the Prophets” (7:12; 11:13; 22:40; Lk 16:16; Jn 1:45; Ac 13:15; 28:23; Ro 3:21); “the Law ..., the Prophets and the Psalms” (Lk 24:44); or just “the Law” (v.18; Jn 10:34; 12:34; 15:25; 1Co 14:21); the divisions were not yet stereotyped. Thus even if “or the Prophets” is redactional (Dalman, Jesus-Jeshua, 62, and many after him), the referent does not change when only law is mentioned in v.18, but it may be a small hint that law also has a prophetic function (cf. 11:13, and

The nub of the problem lies in the verb “fulfill” (plēroō, GK 4444). N. J. McEleney (“The Principles of the Sermon on the Mount,” JBL 41 [1979]: 552–70) finds the verb so difficult in a context (vv.17–48) dealing with law that he judges it a late addition to the tradition. Not a few writers, especially Jewish scholars and some in the Reformed tradition, take the verb to reflect the Aramaic verb qûm (“establish,” “validate,” or “confirm” the law; GK 10624). Jesus did not come to abolish the law but to confirm it and establish it (e.g., Dalman, Jesus-Jeshua, 56–58; Daube, New Testament and Rabbinic Judaism, 60–61; Schlatter, 153–54.; and esp. Sigal, Halakhah of Jesus, 23ff.; Greg Bahnsen, Theonomy in Christian Ethics [Nutley, N.J.: Craig Press, 1979], 90ff.).

There are several objections.

1. The focus of Matthew 5 is the relation between the OT and Jesus’ teaching, not his actions. So any interpretation that says Jesus fulfills the law by doing it misses the point of this passage.

2. If it is argued that Jesus confirms the law, even its jot and tittle, by both his life and his teaching (e.g., Hill; Maier; Mark E. Ross, Let’s Study Matthew [Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 2009]); Ridderbos, Coming of the Kingdom, 292–321)—the latter understood as setting out his own halakah (rules of conduct) within the framework of the law (Sigal)—one marvels that the early church, as the other NT documents testify, misunderstood Jesus so badly on this point; and even the first gospel, as we shall see, is rendered inconsistent.

3. The LXX never uses plēroō (“fulfill”) to render qûm or cognates (which prefer histēmi [GK 2705] or bebaioō [“establish” or “confirm,” GK 1011]). The verb plēroō renders mālē ʾ (GK 4848) and means “to fulfill.” In OT usage, this characteristically refers to the “filling up” of volume or time, meanings that also appear in the NT (e.g., Ac 24:27; Ro 15:19). But though the NT uses plēroō in a number of ways, we are primarily concerned with what is meant by “fulfilling” the Scriptures. Included under this head are specific predictions, typological fulfillments, and even the entire eschatological hope epitomized in the OT by God’s covenant with his people (cf. C. F. D. Moule, “Fulfillment Words in the New Testament: Use and Abuse,” NTS 14 [1967–68]: 293–320; see

The lack of background for plēroō as far as it applies to Scripture requires cautious induction from the NT evidence. In a very few cases, notably James 2:23, the NT writers detect no demonstrable predictive force in the OT passage introduced. Rather, the OT text (in this case Ge 15:6) in some sense remains “empty” until Abraham’s action “fulfills” it. But Genesis 15:6 does not predict the action. Most NT uses of plēroō in connection with Scripture, however, require some teleological force (see Notes, 1:22); and even the ambiguous uses presuppose a typology that in its broadest dimensions is teleological, even if not in every detail (see

Other views are not much more convincing. Many argue that Jesus is here referring only to moral law: the civil and ceremonial law are indeed abolished, but Jesus confirms the moral law (e.g., Hendriksen; D. Wenham, “Jesus and the Law: An Exegesis on Matthew 5:17–20,” Them 4 [1979]: 92–96). Although this tripartite distinction is old, its use as a basis for explaining the relationship between the Testaments is not demonstrably derived from the NT and probably does not antedate Aquinas (cf. R. J. Bauckham’s chapters in Carson, From Sabbath to Lord’s Day; Carson, “Jesus and the Sabbath”). Also, the interpretation is invalidated by the all-inclusive “not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen” (v.18).

Others understand the verb plēroō to mean that Jesus “fills up” the law by providing its full, intended meaning (so Lenski), understood perhaps in terms of the double command to love (so O. Hanssen, “Zum Verständnis der Bergpredigt,” in Der Ruf Jesu und die Antwort der Gemeinde [ed. Edward Lohse; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1970], 94–111). This, however, requires an extraordinary meaning for plēroō, ignores the “jot and tittle” of v.18, and misinterprets 22:34–40.

Still others, in various ways, argue that Jesus “fills up” the OT law by extending its demands to some better or transcendent righteousness (v.20), again possibly understood in terms of the command to love (e.g., Lagrange; Grundmann; A. Feuillet, “Morale ancienne et morale chrétienne d’après Mt 5:17–20; Comparaison avec la doctrine de l’épître aux Romains,” NTS 17 [1970–71]: 123–37, esp. 124; Trilling, Das wahre Israel, 174–79). Thus the reference to prophets (v.17) becomes obscure, and the entire structure is shaky in view of the fact that mere extension of law will not abolish any of its stringencies—yet in both Matthew and other NT documents some abolition is everywhere assumed. H. Ljungman (Das Gesetz erfüllen [Lund: Gleerup, 1954]) takes the “fulfillment” to refer to the fulfillment of Scripture in the self-surrender of the Messiah, which in turn brings forgiveness of sins and the new righteousness the disciples are both to receive and to do. But in addition to weaknesses of detail, it is hard to see how all this can be derived from vv.17–20.

The best interpretation of these difficult verses says that Jesus fulfills the Law and the Prophets in that they point to him, and he is their fulfillment. The antithesis is not between “abolish” and “keep” but between “abolish” and “fulfill.” “For Matthew, then, it is not the question of Jesus’ relation to the law that is in doubt but rather its relation to him!” (R. Banks, “Matthew’s Understanding of the Law: Authenticity and Interpretation in Matthew 5:17–20,” JBL 93 [1974]: 226–42). Therefore, we see in plēroō (“fulfill”) exactly the same meaning as in the formula quotations, which in the prologue (Mt 1–2) have already laid great stress on the prophetic nature of the OT and the way it points to Jesus (see Davies and Allison; France [TNTC]; Gibbs; Turner; Roland Deines, Die Gerechtigkeit der Tora im Reich des Messias: Mt 5:13–20 als Schlüsseltext der mattäischen Theologie [WUNT 177; Tübingen: Mohr, 2004]). Even OT events have this prophetic significance (see

The manner of the prophetic foreshadowing varies. The exodus, Matthew argues (2:15), foreshadows the calling out of Egypt of God’s “son.” The writer to the Hebrews argues that many cultic regulations of the OT pointed to Jesus and are now obsolete. In the light of the antitheses (vv.21–48), the passage before us insists that just as Jesus fulfilled OT prophecies by his person and actions, so he fulfilled OT law by his teaching. In no case does this “abolish” the OT as canon, any more than the obsolescence of the Levitical sacrificial system abolishes tabernacle ritual as canon. Instead, the OT’s real and abiding authority must be understood through the person and teaching of him to whom it points and who so richly fulfills it.

As in Luke 16:16–17, Jesus is not announcing the termination of the OT’s relevance and authority (else Lk 16:17 would be incomprehensible), but that “the period during which men were related to God under its terms ceased with John” (Moo, “Jesus and the Authority of the Mosaic Law,” esp. 23); and the nature of its valid continuity is established only with reference to Jesus and the kingdom. The general structure of this interpretation has been well set forth by Banks (Jesus and the Law), Meier (Law and History), Moo (“Jesus and the Authority of the Mosaic Law”; see also his “The Law of Christ as the Fulfillment of the Law of Moses: A Modified Lutheran View,” in The Law, the Gospel, and the Modern Christian [ed. Wayne G. Strickland; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1993], 319–76), Wells and Zaspel (New Covenant Theology), and, at a popular level, Carson (Sermon on the Mount, 33–40). For a somewhat similar approach, see McConnell (Law and Prophecy, 96–97), who points out that Jesus’ implicit authority is also found in the closing verses of the sermon (7:21–23) where as eschatological Judge he exercises the authority of God alone. Of course, if Jesus fulfills the law and the prophets in this eschatological sense, such fulfillment brings with it both continuity and discontinuity. The authority of the older revelation is not called into question, but its continuing power lies not in unchanging legal prescription but in that to which it points, its fulfillment.

Several objections to this view have been raised. One is that the use of “to fulfill” in the fulfillment quotations is in the passive voice, whereas here the voice is active. But it is doubtful whether much can be made out of this distinction (cf. Meier, Law and History, 80–81). Perhaps one of the weightiest objections has come from Greg Welty (“Eschatological Fulfilment and the Confirmation of Mosaic Law: A Response to D. A. Carson and Fred Zaspel on Matthew 5:17–48” [www.the-highway.com/mosaic-law_Welty.html], last revised on March 28, 2002). Welty’s lengthy discussion depends almost entirely on his claim that what is being argued here is that OT prophecies are fulfilled in Jesus’ person and actions, while OT law is fulfilled in the teaching of Jesus. But that means the former category cannot be used as a reliable analogy of the latter—and the latter Welty finds incoherent for a number of reasons. But it is very doubtful that such a sharp antithesis can legitimately be introduced:

(a) Matthew 11:13 insists that both the Law and the Prophets prophesy. Similarly here: Jesus comes to fulfill both the Law and the Prophets.

(b) It is not only OT prophecies (understood as verbal predictions) that “prophesy” and are “fulfilled,” but very frequently the “prophecies” are in fact legal structures and institutions that “prophesy” and are “fulfilled.” They are, in short, typologies that establish patterns that point forward. That is presupposed by Paul, for instance, when he tells us that Christ our Passover has been sacrificed (1Co 5:7): the legally established Passover of the Mosaic covenant is a prophecy that anticipates the ultimate “Passover.” It is presupposed again when texts that describe David or some other early Davidic king are said to be “fulfilled” in King Jesus, the ultimate Davidide.

(c) When one speaks of “prophecy” and “fulfillment” in this larger eschatological sense, inevitably there is both continuity and discontinuity between the prophecy and the fulfillment. If X in some sense prophesies Y, and Y in some sense fulfills X, it is impossible to think of continuity alone. Equally, however, it is impossible to think of discontinuity alone, for all links between X and Y would disappear. If the ancient Passover celebration anticipates Christ our Passover, the discontinuities are plain: Jesus is not a literal lamb, his blood was never put on the two doorposts and the lintel, he is not eaten by a family, and so forth. Yet the fundamental continuity is equally plain: Just as the death of the Passover lamb and the sprinkling of its blood ensured that the angel of death “passed over” the house, so the death of Christ our Passover and the shedding of his blood ensure that those protected by Christ escape the certainty of death and judgment. The Passover ritual simultaneously looked back to the Passover night in Egypt, and looked forward to the ultimate Passover sacrifice.

(d) One must not forget the commonplace observation that tōrâ (GK 9368), “law,” fundamentally means “instruction” rather than “legal demand” (Lat. lex). The “instructions” or “laws” related to the observation of Passover celebrations clearly (from the perspective of NT writers) point forward to the ultimate Passover. It is difficult to imagine why “laws” such as “Do not commit murder” might not also point forward to something deeper—not merely the prohibition of murder but the promised transformation of God’s image bearers such that they will love. The orientation, in other words, is eschatological. In other words, the bifurcations that Welty detects simply are not there.

(e) It appears that the fundamental reason why Welty cannot allow something called “law” to foreshadow the teaching of Jesus is that he is operating with an a priori definition of moral law. Thus in the antitheses (vv.21–48), when Jesus says, for instance, that under his authority the prohibition of adultery includes the prohibition of lust, Welty says this is merely unpacking moral dimensions that are implicit in the OT commandment; there is no discontinuity. But it is better to say that the “fulfillment” terminology suggests that all the moral dimensions Jesus delineates are not already in the legal antecedent but are precisely that to which the legal antecedent points. In other words, both Welty and this exposition usually come out at the same place when it comes to understanding what Jesus is teaching and demanding, but Welty claims such material was already present in the OT law—and thus he loses the eschatological framework, the sense that the new fulfills the old.

(f) The approach adopted here does not render useless the category of “moral law.” The difference is this: Welty and many others promote an a priori definition of moral law as that law which never changes, unlike civil and ceremonial law, both of which pass away as the locus of the people of God escapes the national boundaries of the OT and becomes an international community, and the ceremonies give way to the realities. This a priori understanding of moral law then becomes the criterion by which to establish patterns of continuity and discontinuity between the Testaments, without first taking on board the categories used by the biblical writers themselves. By contrast, one might usefully come up with an a posteriori (“after the fact”) definition of moral law. One might attempt to delineate the patterns of continuity and discontinuity between the Testament on their own terms and then label “moral” those instructions and laws that change the least across time (contra Richard Barcellos, In Defense of the Decalogue: A Critique of New Covenant Theology [Enumclaw, Wash.: Winepress, 2001]).

(g) Finally, we should reflect on 7:12, where, we are told, the Golden Rule “sums up” the Law and the Prophets. The verb used is estin (“is,” GK 1639)—but transparently this verb takes on various emphases from its context. It cannot in 7:12 be making an ontological claim (that would be silly); the NIV attempts to catch the idea by rendering it “sums up.” One might as easily supply “fulfills,” as in Acts 2:16 and elsewhere. This is all the more attractive when one observes that 7:12 closes the body of the Sermon on the Mount as the paragraph vv.17–20 opens it.

Three theological conclusions are inevitable. First, if the antitheses (vv.21–48) are understood in the light of this interpretation of vv.17–20, then Jesus is not engaged there primarily in extending, annulling, or intensifying OT law but in showing the direction in which it points, on the basis of his own authority (to which, again, the OT points). This may work out in any particular case to have the same practical effect as “intensifying” the law or “annulling” some element; but the reasons for that conclusion are quite different. On the ethical implications of this interpretation, see the essay by Moo (“Jesus and the Authority of the Mosaic Law”).

Second, if vv.17–20 are essentially authentic (cf. Davies, Christian Origins, 31–66) and the above interpretation is sound, the christological implications are important. Here Jesus presents himself as the eschatological goal of the OT and thereby its sole authoritative interpreter, the one through whom alone the OT finds its valid continuity and significance.

Third, this approach eliminates the need to pit Matthew against Paul, or Palestinian Jewish Christians against Pauline Gentile believers, the first lot adhering to Mosaic stipulations and the second abandoning them. Nor do we need the solution of Brice Martin (“Matthew and Paul on Christ and the Law: Compatible or Incompatible Theologies?” [PhD diss., McMaster Univ., 1976]), who argues that Matthew’s and Paul’s approaches to law are noncomplementary but noncontradictory; they simply employ different categories. This fails to wrestle with Matthew’s positioning of Jesus within the history of redemption; and Paul well understood that the Law and the Prophets pointed beyond themselves (e.g., Ro 3:21; Gal 3–4; cf. Ro 8:4). The focus returns to Jesus, which is where, on the face of it, both Paul and Matthew intend it to be. The groundwork is laid out in the Gospels for an understanding of Jesus as the one who established the essentially christological and eschatological approach to the OT employed by Paul. But this is made clearer in v.18.

18 “I tell you the truth” signals that the statement to follow is of the utmost importance (see Notes). In Greek it is connected to the preceding verse by an explanatory “for” (gar): v.18 further explains and confirms the truth of v.17. The “jot” (KJV) has become “the smallest letter” (NIV). This is almost certainly correct, for it refers to the letter (yôd), the smallest letter of the Hebrew alphabet. The “tittle” (NIV, “least stroke of a pen,” keraia, GK 3037) has been variously interpreted: it is the Hebrew letter (wāw) (so G. Schwarz, “ἱῶτα ἕν ἢ μία κεραία [Matthäus 5:18],” ZNW 66 [1975]: 268–69) or the small stroke that distinguishes several pairs of Hebrew letters (e.g., ‎/‎; ‎/‎; ‎/) (so Filson, Lenski, Allen) or a purely ornamental stroke, a “crown” (Tasker, Schniewind, Schweizer; but cf. NIDNTT, 3:182); or it forms a hendiadys with “jot,” referring to the smallest part of the smallest letter (Lachs, “Textual Observations,” 106–8). In any event, Jesus here upholds the authority of the OT Scriptures right down to the “least stroke of a pen.” His is the highest possible view of the OT.

Verses 17–18 do not wrestle abstractly with OT authority but with the nature, extent, and duration of its validity and continuity. The nature of these has been set forth in v.17. The reference to “jot and tittle” establishes its extent. It will not do to reduce the reference to moral law, or to the law as a whole but not necessarily its parts, or to God’s will in some general sense. “Law” almost certainly refers to the entire OT Scriptures, not just the Pentateuch or moral law (note the parallel in v.17).

That leaves the duration of the OT’s authority. The two “until” clauses answer this. The first—“until heaven and earth disappear”—simply means “until the end of the age”: i.e., not quite “never” (contra Meier, Law and History, 61), but “never, as long as the present world order persists.” The second—“until everything is accomplished”—is more difficult. Some take it to be equivalent to the first (cf. Sand, Gesetz und die Propheten, 36–39). But it is more subtle than that. The word panta (“all things” or “everything”) has no antecedent. Contrary to Sand (p. 38), Hill, Bultmann (History of the Synoptic Tradition, 138, 405), and Grundmann, the word cannot very easily refer to all the demands of the Law that must be “accomplished,” because (1) “Law” almost certainly refers here to all Scripture and not just its commands—but even if that were not so, v.17 has shown that even imperatival law is prophetic; (2) the word genētai (“is accomplished,” GK 1181) must here be rendered “happens,” “comes to pass” (i.e., “is accomplished” in that sense, not in the sense of obeying a law; cf. Meier, Law and History, 53–54; Banks, Jesus and the Law, 215ff.).

Hence panta (“everything”) is best understood to refer to everything in the Law considered under the Law’s prophetic function—namely, until all these things have taken place as prophesied. This is not simply pointing to the cross (Davies, Christian Origins, 60ff.), nor simply to the end of the age (Schniewind). The parallel with 24:34–35 is not that close, since in the latter case, the events are specified. Verse 18d simply means the entire divine purpose prophesied in Scripture must take place; not one jot or tittle will fail of its fulfillment. A similar point is made in 11:13. Thus the first “until” clause focuses strictly on the duration of OT authority, but the second returns to considering its nature. It reveals God’s redemptive purposes and points to their fulfillment, their “accomplishment,” in Jesus and the eschatological kingdom he is now introducing and will one day consummate (cf. Gibbs).

Meier (Law and History) ably establishes the centrality of the death and resurrection of Jesus as the pivotal event in Matthew’s presentation of salvation history. Before it Jesus’ disciples are restricted to Israel (10:5–6); after it they are to go everywhere. Similarly, the precise form of the Mosaic law may change with the crucial redemptive events to which it points. For that which prophesies is in some sense taken up in and transcended by the fulfillment of the prophecy. Meier has grasped and explained this redemptive-historical structure better than most commentators. He may, however, have gone too far in interpreting v.18d too narrowly as a reference to the cross and the resurrection.

19 The contrast between the least and the greatest in the kingdom probably supports gradation within kingdom ranks (as in 11:11, though the word for “least” is different there; cf. 18:1–4). It is probably not a Semitic way of referring to the exclusion-inclusion duality (contra Bonnard). The one who breaks “one of the least of these commandments” is not excluded from the kingdom—the linguistic usage is against this interpretation (see Meier, Law and History, 92–95)—but is very small or unimportant in the kingdom (taking elachistos [GK 1788] in the elative sense). The idea of gradations of privilege or dishonor in the kingdom occurs elsewhere in the Synoptic Gospels (20:20–28; cf. Lk 12:47–48). Distinctions are made not only according to the measure by which one keeps “the least of these commandments” but also according to the faithfulness with which one teaches them.

But what are “these commandments”? It is hard to justify restriction of these words to Jesus’ teachings (so Banks, Jesus and the Law, 221–23), even though the verb cognate to “commands” (entolōn, GK 1953) is used of Jesus’ teachings in 28:20 (entellomai); the noun in Matthew never refers to Jesus’ words, and the context argues against it. Restriction to the Ten Commandments (TDNT, 2:548) is alien to the concerns of the context. Nor can we say “these commandments” refers to the antitheses that follow, for in Matthew houtos (“this,” plural “these”) never points forward. It appears, then, that the expression must refer to the commandments of the OT Scriptures. The entire Law and the Prophets are not scrapped by Jesus’ coming but fulfilled. Therefore the commandments of these Scriptures—even the least of them (on distinctions in the law, see

20 And that teaching, far from being more lenient, is nothing less than perfection (see

What Jesus demanded is the righteousness to which the law truly points, exemplified in the antitheses that follow (vv.21–48). The law, for instance, forbids adultery. Someone might truthfully say that he has kept that law. But if that law points forward to such righteousness as prohibits adultery in one’s heart, the stakes are higher than can be met by even the most law-abiding Pharisee. Contrary to Helmut Flender (Die Botschaft Jesu, 45f.), v.3 (poverty of spirit) and v.20 (demand for radical righteousness) do not stand opposite each other in flat contradiction. Verse 20 does not establish how the righteousness is to be gained, developed, or empowered; it simply lays out the demand. Messiah will develop a people who will be called “oaks of righteousness ... for the display of [Yahweh’s] splendor” (Isa 61:3). The verb “surpasses” suggests that the new righteousness outstrips the old both qualitatively and quantitatively (Bonnard; see

NOTES

18 “I tell you the truth” is the NIV’s rendering of two expressions merged together: (1) ἀμήν (amēn, GK 297)—a Greek transliteration of a Hebrew word meaning “faithful” or “reliable” and often used in the OT as an adverb (“surely,” “truly”), often at the end of a sentence endorsing or wishing that the sentence is true or may prove true (cf. “Amen” in English at the end of prayers); it also begins some sentences (Jer 28:6; Rev 7:12; 19:4; 22:20) or develops into a response (1Co 14:16; Rev 5:14; cf. Dt 27:15–26; cf. Daube, New Testament and Rabbinic Judaism, 388–93; Jeremias, Prayers of Jesus, 112–15)—and (2) γὰρ λέγω ὑμῖν (gar legō hymin, “for I tell you”), which, of course, would take the order λέγω γὰρ ὑμῖν (legō gar hymin) if it stood on its own.

OVERVIEW

Verses 21–48 are often called the six antitheses because all six sections begin with some variation of “You have heard it said, ... but I say.” David Daube (New Testament and Rabbinic Judaism, 55–62) offers a number of much-cited rabbinic parallels, some of which, in the first part, raise an interpretation as a theoretical possibility only to reject it, and others of which raise a literal interpretation only to circumscribe it with broader considerations. Daube rightly points out that the first part of Matthew’s formulas means something like “you have understood” or “you have literally understood.” That is, Jesus is not criticizing the OT but the understanding of the OT many of his hearers adopted. This is especially true of vv.22, 43, where part of what was “heard” certainly does not come from the OT.

Beginning with this point, many (e.g., Stendahl, “Matthew,” in Peake’s Commentary; Hill) hold that Jesus nowhere abrogates the law but merely intensifies it or shows its ultimate meaning. Others (e.g., McConnell, Law and Prophecy) point out that, formally speaking, some OT laws are indeed contravened (e.g., laws on oaths, vv.33–37). R. A. Guelich (“The Antitheses of Matthew 5:21–48: Traditional or Redactional?” NTS 22 [1975–76]: 444–57), in the course of arguing that the first, second, and fourth are traditional and the third, fifth, and sixth redactional, suggests that the former transcend the law’s demands, whereas the latter annul the law—a point contested by G. Strecker (“Die Antithesen der Bergpredigt,” ZNW 69 [1978]: 36–72). Apart from the fact that the traditional-redactional bifurcation is not an entirely happy one (see Introduction, ), a unifying approach to the antitheses is possible in the light of our exegesis of vv.17–20.

The contrast between what the people had heard and what Jesus taught is not based on distinctions like casuistry versus love, outer legalism versus inner commitment, or even false interpretation versus true interpretation, though all of them impinge collaterally on the text. Rather, in every case, Jesus contrasts the people’s misunderstanding of the law with the true direction in which the law points, according to his own authority as the law’s “fulfiller” (in the sense established in v.17). He makes no attempt to fence in the law (contra Przybylski, Righteousness in Matthew, 80–87) but declares unambiguously the true direction to which it points. Thus if certain antitheses revoke at least the letter of the law (and they do; cf. Meier, Law and History, 125ff.), they do so, not because they are thereby affirming the law’s true spirit, but because Jesus insists that his teaching on these matters is the direction in which the laws actually point.

Likewise Jesus’ “you have heard ..., but I say” is not quite analogous to corresponding rabbinic formulas; Jesus is not simply a proto-rabbi (contra Daube; Sigal, Halakhah of Jesus). The Sermon on the Mount is not set in a context of scholarly dispute over halakic details but in a context of messianic and eschatological fulfillment. Jesus’ authority bursts the borders of the relatively “narrow context of legal interpretation and innovation which the rabbis circumscribed for themselves” (Banks, Jesus and the Law, 85). It is for this reason that the crowds were amazed at his authority (7:28–29).

21“You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘Do not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.’ 22But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to his brother, ‘Raca,’ is answerable to the Sanhedrin. But anyone who says, ‘You fool!’ will be in danger of the fire of hell.

23“Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, 24leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift.

25“Settle matters quickly with your adversary who is taking you to court. Do it while you are still with him on the way, or he may hand you over to the judge, and the judge may hand you over to the officer, and you may be thrown into prison. 26I tell you the truth, you will not get out until you have paid the last penny.”

COMMENTARY

21–22 Jesus’ contemporaries had heard that the law given their forefathers (see Notes) forbade murder (not the taking of all life, which could, for instance, be a judicial mandate: cf. Ge 9:6) and that the murderer must be brought to “judgment” (krisis [GK 3213], which here refers to legal proceedings, perhaps the court set up in every town [Dt 16:18; 2Ch 19:5; cf. Josephus, Ant. 4.214 (7.14); J.W. 2.570–71 (20.5)]; or the council of twenty-three persons set up to deal with criminal matters, Str-B, 1:275). But Jesus insists—the “I” is emphatic in each of the six antitheses—that the law really points to his own teaching: the root of murder is anger, and anger is murderous in principle (Mt 5:22). One has not conformed to the better righteousness of the kingdom simply by refraining from homicide. The angry person will be subject to krisis (“judgment”), but it is presupposed this is God’s judgment, “since no human court is competent to try a case of inward anger” (Stott, Message of the Sermon on the Mount). To stoop to insult exposes one not merely to (God’s) council (synedrion [GK 5284] can mean either “Sanhedrin” [NIV] or simply “council”) but to the “fire of hell.”

The expression “fire of hell” (geenna tou pyros, lit., “gehenna [GK 1147] of fire”) comes from the Hebrew gê ʾ-hinnōm (“Valley of Hinnom,” a ravine south of Jerusalem once associated with the pagan god Moloch and his disgusting rites [2Ki 23:10; 2Ch 28:3; 33:6; Jer 7:31; Eze 16:20; 23:37] prohibited by God [Lev 18:21; 20:2–5]). When Josiah abolished the practices, he defiled the valley by making it a dumping ground for filth and the corpses of criminals (2Ki 23:10). Late traditions suggest that in the first century it may still have been used as a rubbish pit, complete with smoldering fires. The valley came to symbolize the place of eschatological punishment (cf. 1 En. 54:12; 2 Bar. 85:13; cf. Mt 10:28; 23:15, 33 [18:9 for the longer expression “gehenna of fire”]). Gehenna and Hades (11:23 [NIV text note]; 16:18) are often thought to refer, respectively, to eternal hell and the abode of the dead in the intermediate state. But the distinction can be maintained in few passages. More commonly, the two terms are synonymous and mean “hell” (cf. W. J. P. Boyd, “Gehenna—According to J. Jeremias,” in Studia Biblica 1978 [ed. Livingstone], 2:9–12).

“Brother” (adelphos, GK 81) cannot in this case be limited to male siblings. Matthew’s gospel uses the word extensively. Whenever it clearly refers to people beyond physical brothers, it is on the lips of Jesus, and its narrow usage is almost always Matthean. This suggests that the Christian habit of calling one another “brother” goes back to Jesus’ instruction, possibly part and parcel of his training them to address God as Father (6:9). Among Christian brothers, anger is to be eliminated. On the other hand, it is possible that Allison (Studies in Matthew, 65–78) is right in detecting (along with some church fathers) an allusion to Genesis 4, where Cain slays his brother Abel.

The passage does not suggest a gradation and climax of punishments (so Hendriksen, 297–99), for this would require a similar gradation of offense. There is no clear distinction between the person with seething anger, the one who insultingly calls his brother a fool, and the one who prefers, as his term of abuse, “Raca” (transliteration for Aram. rēkâ ʾ, “imbecile,” “fool,” “blockhead”). To a Greek, mōros (GK 3704) would suggest foolishness or senselessness; but to a speaker of Hebrew, the Greek word might call to mind the Hebrew mōreh (from the verb GK 5286), which has overtones of moral apostasy, rebellion, and wickedness (cf. Ps 78:8 [77:8 LXX]; Jer 5:23).

Many Jewish maxims warn against anger (examples in Bonnard), but this is not just another maxim. Here Jesus does not merely offer advice; he insists that the sixth commandment points prophetically to the kingdom’s condemnation of hate.

Jesus’ anger, expressed in diverse circumstances (21:12–19; 23:17; Mk 3:1–5), is no personal inconsistency.

1. Jesus is a preacher who gets down to essentials on every point he makes. Thus for a clear understanding of his thought on a particular issue, one must examine the balance of his teaching (cf., e.g., 6:2–4 with Luke 18:1–8). Similarly, to learn all Jesus says about anger, it is necessary to integrate this passage with others such as 21:12–13 without absolutizing any one text.

2. When suffering, Jesus is proverbial for his gentleness and forbearance (Lk 23:34; 1Pe 2:23). But if he comes as Suffering Servant, he comes equally as Judge and King. His anger erupts not out of personal pique but out of outrage at injustice, sin, unbelief, and exploitation of others. Unfortunately, his followers are more likely to be angered at personal affronts (cf. Carson, Sermon on the Mount, 41–42).

3. In the context of the balance of themes in Scripture, the handling of hatred is not exactly like the handling of, say, lust or greed. Lust and greed must be suppressed; better, we must triumph over them. But there is a certain sense in which righteous hatred is to be encouraged (cf. Ps 139), “an indignation wholly directed to wickedness and evil, purged of moodiness, petulance, inflamed irritability, unreasonable suspicion” (Oliver O’Donovan, “Scripture and Christian Ethics,” Case 12 [2007]: 22). Merely to suppress all anger fails to recognize that Scripture also mandates, not least by the example of Jesus, righteous anger—and still love for our enemies. O’Donovan further comments:

When I learn so to hate that I long for the justice of God, then I recognize that that same justice is precisely what my enemy needs. The injustice in the relation is to be put right not only for me, but for him too, because it is God’s justice, which is like the sun which he makes to rise on the evil and the good, and the rain which he sends on the just and the unjust. So I begin to love my enemy as myself, by discovering that what I want for myself I want most profoundly for him too.

23–24 Jesus gives two illustrations exposing the seriousness of anger, the first in a setting of temple worship (vv.23–24, which implies a pre–70 setting), and the second in a judicial setting (vv.25–26). The first concerns a brother (see

The “altar” (v.23) is the one in the inner court. There amid solemn worship, recollection of a brother with something against one (on the expression, see Mk 11:25) should in Christ’s disciples prompt immediate efforts to be reconciled (v.24). Only then is formal worship acceptable.

25–26 Compare Luke 12:57–59, where the contextual application warns impenitent Israel to be reconciled to God before it is too late. Many conclude that Matthew has “ethicized” an originally eschatological saying. But the language of the two pericopes is not close, and it is more realistic to postulate two stories from one itinerant preacher. Explanations for one or two of the changes (e.g., McNeile) are not convincing unless they fit a pattern that justifies all the changes.

Jesus again urges haste (v.25). Settle matters with the offended adversary while still “with him on the way” to court, not on “the road to life” (Bonnard). In the ancient world, debtors were jailed until the debts were paid. Thus v.26 is part of the narrative fabric and gives no justification for purgatory, universal restoration, or urgent reconciliation to God. It simply insists on immediate action. Malicious anger is so evil—and God’s judgment so certain (v.22)—that we must do all in our power to end it (cf. Eph 4:26–27).

NOTES

21 The word ἀρχαίοις (archaiois, “to the people long ago”) is translated as an instrumental dative in KJV: “by them of old time,” following Beza. The reading is also found in some OL copies: ab antiquis (it^a.b.c.) instead of antiquis (it^d.f.ff.), which is as ambiguous as the Greek (similarly in v.33). The NIV is almost certainly right: (1) the normal way of expressing agency in Greek is with ὑπό (hypo, “by”) plus the genitive (though there are exceptional datives, e.g., 6:1; 23:5); and (2) Jesus’ point is not to correct “the people long ago” but the misunderstandings of his contemporaries, for which the NIV rendering is more suitable.

In the command οὐ φονεύσεις (ou phoneuseis, “Do not murder”), the verb is future, a not uncommon way for the LXX to express an imperative. Most examples in the NT are in quotations from the LXX (e.g., 5:33, 43, 48). But the construction is not unknown in secular Greek, and some non-LXX instances occur in the NT (e.g., 6:5; 20:26; 21:3, 13; cf. Turner, Syntax, 86).

22 The words “without cause” (NIV text note) probably reflect an early and widespread softening of Jesus’ strong teaching. Their absence does not itself prove there is no exception (see

23 The change from plural to singular occurs again at 5:29, 36, 39; 6:5, and may reflect the style of a preacher who knows how to bring his lesson home by making it personal.

27“You have heard that it was said, ‘Do not commit adultery.’ 28But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. 29If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. 30And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell.”

COMMENTARY

27–28 The OT command not to commit adultery (Ex 20:14; Dt 5:18) is often treated in Jewish sources not so much as a function of purity as of theft: it was to steal another’s wife (references in Bonnard). Jesus insisted that the seventh commandment points in another direction—toward purity that refuses to lust (v.28). The tenth commandment had already explicitly made the point; and gynē (GK 1222) here more likely means “woman” than “wife.” “To interpret the law on the side of stringency is not to annul the Law but to change it in accordance with its own intention” (Davies, Setting, 102; cf. Job 31:1; Pr 6:25; 2Pe 2:14).

Klaus Haacker (“Der Rechtsatz Jesu zum Thema Ehebruch,” BZ 21 [1977]: 113–16) has convincingly argued that the second autēn (“[committed adultery] with her”) is contrary to the common interpretation of this verse. In Greek it is unnecessary, especially if the sin is entirely the man’s. But it is explainable if pros to epithymēsai autēn, commonly understood to mean “with a view to lusting for her,” is translated “so as to get her to lust.” The evidence for this interpretation is strong (see Notes). The man is therefore looking at the woman with a view to enticing her to lust. Thus, so far as his intention goes, he is committing adultery with her, and he makes her an adulteress. This does not weaken the force of Jesus’ teaching. The heart of the matter is still lust and intent.

29–30 The radical treatment of parts of the body that cause one to sin (see Notes) has led some (notoriously Origen) to castrate themselves. But that is not radical enough, since lust is not thereby removed. The “eye” (v.29) is the member of the body most commonly blamed for leading us astray, especially in sexual sins (cf. Nu 15:39; Pr 21:4; Eze 6:9; 18:12; 20:8; cf. Ecc 11:9); the “right eye” refers to one’s best eye. But why the “right hand” (v.30) in a context dealing with lust? This may be merely illustrative or a way of saying that even lust is a kind of theft. More likely, it is a euphemism for the male sexual organ (cf. yād, “hand” [GK 3338], most likely used in this way in Isaiah 57:8 [cf. BDB, 4.g]; see Lachs, “Textual Observations,” 108–9).

Cutting off or gouging out the offending part is a way of saying that Jesus’ disciples must deal radically with sin. Imagination is a God-given gift; but if it is fed dirt by the eye, it will be dirty. All sin, not least sexual sin, begins with the imagination. Therefore, what feeds the imagination is of maximum importance in the pursuit of kingdom righteousness (cf. Php 4:8). Not everyone reacts the same way to all objects. But if your eye is causing you to sin, gouge it out, or at very least, don’t look (cf. the sane exposition of Stott, Message of the Sermon on the Mount, 88–91)! The alternative is sin and hell—sin’s reward. The point is so fundamental that Jesus doubtless repeated it on numerous occasions (cf. 18:8–9).

NOTES

28 The verb ἐπιθυμέω (epithymeō, “lust,” GK 2121) can have positive force (“desire”), but more commonly it has a bad sense. It is used explicitly in connection with sexual lust in Romans 1:24.

If Haacker (see

29 The verb σκανδαλίζω (skandalizō, GK 4997) can mean (1) “cause to stumble,” “cause to sin” (as here; 18:6–9; Lk 17:2; Ro 14:21; 1Co 8:13; 2Co 11:29); (2) “obstruct another’s path,” and, hence, “cause [someone] to disbelieve, reject, forsake” (11:6; 13:21, 57; 15:12; 24:10; 26:31, 33; Jn 16:1); or (3) “offend” (17:27; Jn 6:61). The cognate noun σκάνδαλον (skandalon), originally referring to the trigger of a trap (cf. Ro 11:9), comes to mean, in a similar breakdown, (1) “stumbling block,” i.e., “causing another to fall into sin” (13:41; 18:7; Lk 17:1; Ro 14:13; 1Jn 2:10; Rev 2:14); (2) “an obstruction,” and, hence, “an occasion of disbelief” (Ro 9:32–33; 16:17; 1Co 1:23; 1Pe 2:8); or (3) an object one strikes and that hurts or repels one; hence, “an offense” (16:23; Gal 5:11). Some texts may appeal to more than one meaning (cf. Broadus; NIDNTT, 2:707–10).

31“It has been said, ‘Anyone who divorces his wife must give her a certificate of divorce.’ 32But I tell you that anyone who divorces his wife, except for marital unfaithfulness, causes her to become an adulteress, and anyone who marries the divorced woman commits adultery.”

COMMENTARY

31–32 The introductory formula “It has been said” is shorter than all the others in this chapter and is linked to the preceding by a connective de (“and”). Therefore, though these two verses are innately antithetical, they carry further the argument of the preceding pericope. The OT points toward insisting not only that lust is the moral equivalent of adultery (vv.27–30) but that divorce is as well. This arises out of the fact that the divorced woman will in most circumstances remarry (esp. in first-century Palestine, where this would probably be her means of support). That new marriage, whether from the perspective of the divorcée or the one marrying her, is adulterous.

The OT passage to which Jesus refers (v.31) is Deuteronomy 24:1–4, whose thrust is that if a man divorces his wife because of “something indecent” (not further defined) in her, he must give her a certificate of divorce, and if she then becomes another man’s wife and is divorced again, the first man cannot remarry her. This double restriction—the certificate and the prohibition of remarriage—discouraged hasty divorces. Here Jesus does not go into the force of “something indecent.” Instead he insists that the law was pointing to the sanctity of marriage.

The natural way to take the “except” clause is that divorce is wrong because it generates adultery except in the case of fornication. In that case, where sexual sin has already been committed, nothing is laid down, though it appears that divorce is then implicitly permitted, even if not mandated (see the paraphrase in Stonehouse, Witness of Matthew, 203).

The numerous points for exegetical dispute (e.g., the meaning of porneia [“fornication,” or, in the NIV, “marital unfaithfulness,” GK 4518], the force of the “except” clause, and the tradition history behind these verses and their relationship to 19:3–9; Mk 10:11–12; Lk 16:18) are treated more fully at 19:3–12. The one theory that must be rejected here (because it has no counterpart in 19:3–12) is that which takes the words “makes her an adulteress” to mean “stigmatizes her as an adulteress (even though it is not so)” (B. Ward Powers, “Divorce and the Bible,” Interchange 23 [1938]: 159). The Greek uses the verb, not the noun (cf. NIV, “causes her to become an adulteress”). The verbal construction disallows Powers’s paraphrase.

33“Again, you have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘Do not break your oath, but keep the oaths you have made to the Lord.’ 34But I tell you, Do not swear at all: either by heaven, for it is God’s throne; 35or by the earth, for it is his footstool; or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the Great King. 36And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make even one hair white or black. 37Simply let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No,’ ‘No’; anything beyond this comes from the evil one.”

COMMENTARY

33 “Again” probably confirms 5:31–32 as an excursus to the preceding antithesis rather than a new one. Matthew now reports an antithesis on a new theme. What the people have heard is not given as direct OT quotation but as a summary statement accurately condensing the burden of Exodus 20:7; Leviticus 19:12; Numbers 30:2; and Deuteronomy 5:11; 6:13; 23:21–23. The Mosaic law forbade irreverent oaths, light use of the Lord’s name, broken vows. Once Yahweh’s name was invoked, the vow to which it was attached became a debt that had to be paid to the Lord.

A sophisticated casuistry judged how binding an oath really was by examining how closely it was related to Yahweh’s name. Incredible distinctions proliferate under such an approach. Swearing by heaven and earth was not binding, nor was swearing by Jerusalem, though swearing toward Jerusalem was. That an entire Mishnaic tract (m. Šebu.) is given over to the subject (cf. also m. Sanh. 3.2; t. Ned. 1; Str-B, 1:321–36) shows that such distinctions became important and were widely discussed. Matthew returns to the topic with marvelous examples in the polemical setting of 23:16–22. The context is not overtly polemical here but simply explains how Jesus relates the kingdom and its righteousness to the OT.

34–36 If oaths designed to encourage truthfulness become occasions for clever lies and casuistical deceit, Jesus will abolish oaths, for the direction in which the OT points is the fundamental importance of thorough and consistent truthfulness. If one does not swear at all, one does not swear falsely. Not dissimilar reasoning was found among the Essenes, who avoided taking oaths, “regarding it as worse than perjury for they say that one who is not believed without an appeal to God stands condemned already” (Josephus, J.W. 2.135 [8.6])—though they did require “tremendous oaths” of neophytes joining the community (ibid., 2.139 [8.7]; cf. 1QS 5:7–11; CD 15:5).

Jesus insists that whatever a man swears by is related to God in some way, and therefore every oath is implicitly in God’s name; heaven, earth, Jerusalem, even the hairs of the head are all under God’s sway and ownership (v.36). (There may be allusions here to Ps 48:2; Isa 66:1.) Significantly, Matthew breaks the flow to say (in Gr.) “toward Jerusalem” rather than “by Jerusalem” (on the distinction, see

37 The Greek might more plausibly be translated “But let your word be, ‘Yes, Yes; No, No.’” The doubling has raised questions. According to some rabbinic opinion, a doubled “yes” or “no” constitutes an oath; Broadus suggests this is an appropriate way to strengthen an assertion. This sounds like casuistry every bit as tortuous as that which Jesus condemns. The doubling is probably no more than preacher’s rhetoric, the point made clear by the NIV (cf. Jas 5:12). Tou ponērou could be rendered either “of evil” or “of the evil one” (“the father of lies,” Jn 8:44). The same ambiguity recurs at 5:39; 6:13; 13:38.

Many groups (e.g., Anabaptists, Jehovah’s Witnesses) have understood these verses absolutely literally and have therefore refused even to take court oaths. Their zeal to conform to Scripture is commendable, but they have probably not interpreted the text very well.

1. The contextual purpose of this passage is to stress the true direction in which the OT points—namely, the importance of truthfulness. Where oaths are not being used evasively and truthfulness is not being threatened, it is not immediately obvious they require such unqualified abolition.

2. In the Scriptures God himself “swears” (e.g., Ge 9:9–11; Lk 1:72–75; cf. Ps 16:10 and Ac 2:27–31), not because he sometimes lies, but in order to help people believe (Heb 6:17). The earliest Christians still took oaths, if we may judge from Paul’s example (Ro 1:9; 2Co 1:23; 1Th 2:5, 10; cf. Php 1:8), for much the same reason. Jesus himself testified under oath (26:63–64).

3. Again we need to remember the antithetical nature of Jesus’ preaching (see

It must be frankly admitted that here Jesus formally contravenes OT law. What it permits or commands (Dt 6:13), he forbids. But if his interpretation of the direction in which the law points is authoritative, then his teaching fulfills it.

NOTES

34 ᾽Ομοσαι ἐν or εἰς (omosai en or eis, “to swear by” or “by-toward” [Gr. is not entirely unambiguous]) is Hebraic (cf. Moulton, Grammar: Accidence, 463–64); only with “Jerusalem” is εἰς, eis, used in the NT. Turner (Insights, 31) argues that the present prohibition in James 5:12 means “stop swearing,” whereas the aorist prohibition here presupposes that the disciples have stopped and now forbids them from starting. This classic distinction based on tenses in prohibitions usually holds but can be too finely spun (cf. Moule, Idiom Book, 21). In the strictest sense, the aorist is timeless; and linked in v.34 with μὴ ... ὅλως (mē ... holōs, “not ... at all”), it probably simply generates an unconditional negative: “Do not swear at all” (NIV; cf. Schlatter).

OVERVIEW

The order of the last two antitheses (vv.38–48) is reversed in Luke 6:27–36. While the reasons for this are debatable, if both evangelists are recording the same sermon, the reversal shows that rearranging the order of the materials (preserved in Q and/or other notes) was thought acceptable. Parallels repudiating vengeance and vindictiveness are not unknown (T. Benj. 4:1–5:5; 1QS 10:18; CD 8:5–6). The distinctive element in Jesus’ teaching is the way he sets it over against the lex talionis (the principle of retribution) and the reasons he does this.

38“You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ 39But I tell you, Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. 40And if someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. 41If someone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. 42Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.”

COMMENTARY

38 The OT prescription (Ex 21:24; Lev 24:19–20; Dt 19:21) was not given to foster vengeance; the law explicitly forbade that (Lev 19:18). Rather, it was given, as the OT context shows, to provide the nation’s judicial system with a ready formula of punishment, not least because it would decisively terminate vendettas. On occasion, payment in money or some other commodity was exacted instead (e.g., Ex 21:26–27), and in Jesus’ day the courts seldom imposed lex talionis. The trouble is that a law designed to limit retaliation and punish fairly could be appealed to as justification for vindictiveness. But it will not do to argue that Jesus is doing nothing more than combating a personal as opposed to a judicial use of the lex talionis, since in that case the examples would necessarily run differently: e.g., if someone strikes you, don’t strike back but let the judiciary administer the just return slap. The argument runs in deeper channels.

39 Jesus’ disciple is not to resist “an evil person” (tō ponērō [GK 4505] could not easily be taken to refer here to the devil or to evil in the abstract). In the context of the lex talionis, the most natural way of understanding the resistance is “do not resist in a court of law.” This interpretation is required in the second example (v.40). As in vv.33–37, therefore, Jesus’ teaching formally contradicts the OT law. But in the context of vv.17–20, what Jesus is saying is reasonably clear: the OT, including the lex talionis, points forward to Jesus and his teaching. But like the OT laws permitting divorce, enacted because of the hardness of men’s hearts (19:3–12), the lex talionis was instituted to curb evil because of the hardness of men’s hearts. “God gives by concession a legal regulation as a dam against the river of violence which flows from man’s evil heart” (Piper, “Love Your Enemies,” 90).

As this legal principle is overtaken by that toward which it points, so also is this hardness of heart. The OT prophets foretold a time when there would be a change of heart among God’s people, living under a new covenant (Jer 31:31–34; 32:37–41; Eze 36:26). Not only would the sins of the people be forgiven (Jer 31:34; Eze 36:25); obedience to God would spring from the heart as well (Jer 31:33; Eze 36:27) as the eschatological age dawned. Thus Jesus’ instruction on these matters is grounded in eschatology. In Jesus and the kingdom, fulfillment (even if partial) of the OT promises takes place. The eschatological age that the Law and Prophets had prophesied (11:13) arrives. The prophecies that curbed evil while pointing forward to the eschaton are now superseded by the new age and the new hearts it brings (cf. Piper, “Love Your Enemies,” 89–91).

Four illustrations clarify Jesus’ point and drive it home. In the first, a man strikes another on the cheek—not only a painful blow but also a gross insult (cf. 2Co 11:20). If a right-handed person strikes someone’s right cheek, presumably it is a slap by the back of the hand, probably considered more insulting than a slap by the open palm (cf. m. B. Qam. 8:6). The verb “strikes” (rhapizei, GK 4824) probably refers to a sharp slap. Many commentators contrast Luke’s typtō (“strikes,” GK 5597; Lk 6:29), arguing the latter refers to blows with a rod—i.e., Luke deals not with insult but with pain and damage. The contrast is false; the semantic overlap between the two verbs is substantial, and typtō can refer to a slap (e.g., Ac 23:3). But instead of seeking recompense at law under the lex talionis, Jesus’ disciples will gladly endure the insult again. (There are overtones of Isa 50:6 here, applied in 26:67 to Jesus; cf. Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 72–73.)

40 Although under Mosaic law the outer cloak was an inalienable possession (Ex 22:26; Dt 24:13), Jesus’ disciples, if sued for their tunics (not equivalent to our underwear but to clothes worn under the “tunic” but customarily worn next to the skin), far from seeking satisfaction, will gladly part with what they may legally keep. Luke 6:29 says nothing about legal action but mentions the garments in reverse order. This has led some to think that Luke had violent robbery in mind because then the outer garment would be snatched off first. But perhaps the order is simply that in which the garments would normally be removed.

41 The third example refers to the Roman practice of commandeering civilians to carry the luggage of military personnel a prescribed distance, one Roman “mile.” (On the verb angareuō (“commandeer,” GK 30; NIV, “force”), see W. Hatch, Essays in Biblical Greek [Oxford: Clarendon, 1889], 37–38.) Impressment, like a lawsuit, evokes outrage, but the attitude of Jesus’ disciples under such circumstances must not be spiteful or vengeful but helpful—willing to go a second mile (exemplars of the Western text say “two more [miles],” making a total of three!). This illustration is also implicitly anti-Zealot.

42 The final illustration requires not only interest-free loans (Ex 22:25; Lev 25:37; Dt 23:19) but a generous spirit (cf. Dt 15:7–11; Pss 37:26; 112:5). The parallel form of this verse (Lk 6:30) does not imply two requests but only one; the repetition reinforces the point. These last two illustrations confirm our interpretation of vv.38–39. The entire pericope deals with the heart’s attitude, the better righteousness. For there is actually no legal recourse to the oppression in the third illustration, and in the fourth no harm that might lead to retaliation has been done.

REFLECTIONS

While these four vignettes have powerful shock value, they were not meant to be new legal prescriptions. Verse 42 does not commit Jesus’ disciples to giving endless amounts of money to everyone who seeks a “soft touch” (cf. Pr 11:15; 17:18; 22:26). Verse 40 is clearly hyperbolic. No first-century Jew would go home wearing only a loincloth. Nor does this pericope deal with the validity of a state police force. Yet the illustrations must not be diluted by endless equivocations. The only limit to the believer’s response in these situations is what love and the Scriptures impose. Paul could “resist” (same Gr. word [anthistēmi, GK 468] as “resist” in v.38) Peter to his face (Gal 2:11) because love demanded it in light of the damage being done to the gospel and to fellow believers. (On the practical outworking of this antithesis, see Neil, “Five Hard Sayings,” 160–63; Piper, “Love Your Enemies,” 92–99; Stott, Message of the Sermon on the Mount, 104–14.)

43“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45that you may be sons of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. 46If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? 47And if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?”

COMMENTARY

43 The command “Love your neighbor” is found in Leviticus 19:18, but no OT Scripture adds “and hate your enemies.” Rabbinic literature as it was later preserved does not usually leap to so bold and negative a conclusion. Thus some commentators have taken this passage as a later Christian mockery of Jewish values. But other considerations question this.

1. The Qumran covenanters explicitly commanded love for those within the community (“those whom God has elected”) and hatred for the outsider (cf. 1QS 1:4, 10; 2:4–9; 1QM 4:1–2; 15:6; 1QH 5:4), and they doubtless represent other groups with similar positions. This love-hate antithesis may be mitigated by the covenanters’ conviction that they alone were the faithful remnant; at least some of the language anticipates divine eschatological language. But not all of it can be dismissed so easily (cf. Davies, Setting, 245ff.).

2. Quite apart from the problems in dating rabbinic literature, we must remember that such literature represents scholarly debate, not common thought. For example, Carl F. H. Henry wrote learned tomes read by a few thousand; Joel Osteen writes popular material read by millions. In a hundred years, if the world lasts that long, some of Henry’s work may still be in print, but few will remember Osteen. Yet today Osteen is read by far more church people than Henry, and the wise preacher will not forget it. Likewise the popular perversion of Leviticus 19:18 presupposed by Matthew 5:43 was doubtless far more widespread than the rabbinic literature intimates.

The quotation also omits “as yourself,” words included in 19:19; 22:39; and the attitude reflected ignores the fact that Leviticus 19:33–34 also commands love of the same depth for the sojourner, the resident alien in the land. The popular reasoning seems to have been that if God commands love for “neighbor,” then hatred for “enemies” is implicitly conceded and perhaps even authorized. Luke 10:25–37 shows how far the “neighbor” category extends.

44–45 Jesus allowed no casuistry. The real direction indicated by the law is love, rich and costly and extended even to enemies. Many take the verb “love” (agapaō, GK 26) and the noun (agapē, GK 27) as always signifying self-giving regardless of emotion. For instance, Hill comments on this passage: “The love which is inculcated is not a matter of sentiment and emotion, but, as always in the OT and NT, of concrete action.” If this were so, 1 Corinthians 13:3 could not disavow “love” that gives everything to the poor and suffers even to martyrdom; for these are “concrete actions.” The same verb is used when Amnon incestuously loves his half sister Tamar (2Sa 13:1 LXX); when Demas, because he loves this world (2Ti 4:10), forsakes Paul; and when tax collectors love those who love them (v.46).

The rise of this word group in Greek is well traced by Robert Joly, ᾽Αγαπᾶν et Φιλεῖν: Le vocabulaire chrétien de l’amour, est-il original? (Brussels: Presses Universitaires, 1968). Christians doubtless took over the word group and largely filled it with their own content, but the content of that love is not based on a presupposed definition but on Jesus’ teaching and example. To love one’s enemies, though it must result in doing them good (Lk 6:32–33) and praying for them (v.44), cannot justly be restricted to activities devoid of any concern, sentiment, or emotion. Like the English verb “to love,” agapaō ranges widely from debased and selfish actions to generous, warm, costly self-sacrifice for another’s good. There is no reason to think the verb here in Matthew does not include emotion as well as action.

Much recent scholarship identifies the “enemies” with the persecutors of Matthew’s church. Verses 44–47 are then seen as Matthew’s transformation of Luke’s more general exhortation (6:32–35) into encouragement for believers in Matthew’s day to submit graciously to their persecutors. If Matthew’s first readers were being persecuted for their faith, that was doubtless one application they made, though it is unlikely that Matthew himself intends to be quite so restrictive and anachronistic. The words “those who persecute you” introduce one important kind of “enemy” but do not exclude other kinds. Jesus himself repeatedly warns his disciples of impending persecution (e.g., vv.10–12; 10:16–23; 24:9–13), so there is little need to doubt the authenticity of the warning here.

One manifestation of love for enemies will be in prayer; praying for an enemy and loving him will prove mutually reinforcing. The more love, the more prayer; the more prayer, the more love. John Stott (Message of the Sermon on the Mount, 119) writes, “Jesus seems to have prayed for his tormentors actually while the iron spikes were being driven through his hands and feet; ... ‘Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do’ (Luke 23:34). If the cruel torture of crucifixion could not silence our Lord’s prayer for his enemies, what pain, pride, prejudice, or sloth could justify the silencing of ours?”

Jesus’ disciples have as their example God himself, who loves so indiscriminately that he sends sun and rain (they are his to bestow) on both the righteous and the unrighteous (cf. Seneca, Ben. 4.26; b. Taʿan. 7b). Yet we must not conclude that God’s love toward men is in all respects without distinction and that therefore all must be saved in the end. The same Jesus teaches otherwise (e.g., in 25:31–46), and the NT shows that some aspects of God’s love are indeed related to his moral character and demands for obedience (e.g., Jn 15:9–11; Jude 21).

Theologians since Calvin have related God’s love in vv.44–45 to his “common grace” (i.e., the gracious favor God bestows “commonly,” without distinction, on all men). He could with justice condemn all; instead he shows repeated and prolonged favor on all. That is the point here established for our emulation, not that God’s love is amoral or without any distinctions whatsoever. See D. A. Carson, The Difficult Doctrine of the Love of God (Wheaton, Ill.: Crossway, 2000).

It is equally unsound to conclude that the OT requires harsh terms for an enemy but that the NT overcomes this dark portrait with new demands for unqualified love. Counterevidence refutes this notion: the OT often mandates love for others (e.g., Ex 23:4–5; Lev 19:18, 33–34; 1Sa 24:5; Job 31:29; Ps 7:4; Pr 24:17, 29; 25:21–22 [cf. Ro 12:20], and the NT speaks against the reprobate (e.g., Lk 18:7; 1Co 16:22; 2Th 1:6–10; 2Ti 4:18; Rev 6:10). Rather, vv.44–45 insist that the OT law cited (v.43) points to the wealth of love exercised by the heirs of the kingdom, a love qualitatively different from that experienced by other people (see

45 God’s example provides the incentive for Jesus’ disciples to be (genēsthe, more likely “become”) sons of their Father. Ultimately this clause does not mean that the disciples act in a loving way to show what they already are (contra Schniewind, Zahn) but to become what they not yet are (Bonnard, Lagrange)—sons of the Father, in the sense established in v.9. The point of the passage is not to state the means of becoming sons but the necessity of pursuing a certain kind of sonship patterned after the Father’s character. “To be persecuted because of righteousness is to align oneself with the prophets (5:12); but to bless and pray for those who persecute us is to align oneself with the character of God” (Carson, Sermon on the Mount, 53). “To return evil for good is devilish; to return good for good is human; to return good for evil is divine” (Plummer). Both vv. 44 and 45 show that Jesus’ disciples must live and love in a way superior to the patterns around them.

46 Luke 6:32 uses charis (“grace,” GK 5921; NIV, “credit”) rather than misthos (“reward,” GK 3635), a distinction that has fostered various complex theories concerning the relationship between the two passages. But in the same context, Luke also speaks of misthos (“reward,” 6:35), and his use of charis means no more than thanks or gratitude: “What thanks have you?” (cf. BDAG, 1080; hence “credit” in the NIV). The two passages are therefore very close, and neither construes “reward” in purely meritorious categories (see

The tax collectors (telōnēs) in the Synoptics are not the senior holders of the tax-farming contracts (Lat. publicani), usually foreigners, but local subordinate collectors (Lat. portitores) working under them (BDAG, 999). The latter were despised, not only because the tax-farming scheme encouraged corruption on a massive scale, but also because strict Jews would perceive them as both traitorous (raising taxes for the enslaving power) and potentially unclean (owing to possible contamination from association with Gentiles—a danger for at least the senior ranks of portitores, who necessarily had dealings with their Gentile overlords). They are often associated with harlots and other public sinners (see Notes). But even these people love those who love them—at least their mothers and other tax collectors!

47 Proper salutation was a mark of courtesy and respect; but if Jesus’ disciples tender such greeting only to their “brothers”—i.e., other like-minded disciples (see

NOTES

43 Zerwick (Biblical Greek, para. 279) argues that the future μισήσεις (misēseis, GK 3631) may here be used modally: “You shall love your neighbor but you may hate your enemy.” This is unlikely because (1) the only parallel, 7:4, renders a question; and (2) the command to love in the same sentence is also in the future form (ἀγαπήσεις [agapēseis, GK 26; “you shall love”—see

44 The extra words in KJV are assimilations to Luke 6:27–28. Not only are they absent from some early representatives of Alexandrian, Western, and Caesarean texts; “the divergence of reading among the added clauses likewise speaks against their originality” (Metzger, Textual Commentary, 14).

46 William O. Walker Jr. (“Jesus and the Tax Collectors,” JBL 97 [1978]: 221–38) has argued that passages like this and others unflattering to tax collectors suggest that Jesus did not have so warm a relationship with such men as has generally been supposed and that therefore passages supporting the latter (esp. 9:10–13; 11:19; and par.) must not be accepted as authentic too readily. But Walker creates a false historical disjunction—either this or that, when all the evidence demands both/and. Jesus denounces all sin but befriends both tax collectors and Pharisees (see

48“Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

COMMENTARY

48 Some interpret this verse as the conclusion of the last antithesis (vv.43–47; e.g., Allen, Hendriksen). In that case the perfection advocated is perfection in love. But “perfection” has far broader associations, and it is better to understand v.48 as the conclusion to the antitheses.

The word teleios (“perfect,” GK 5455) usually reflects tāmîm (“perfect,” GK 9459) in the OT. It can refer to the soundness of sacrificial animals (Ex 12:5) or to thorough commitment to the Lord and therefore uprightness (Ge 6:9; Dt 18:13; 2Sa 22:26). The Greek word can be rendered “mature” or “full-grown” (1Co 14:20; Eph 4:13; Heb 5:14; 6:1). Many judge its force to be nonmoral here in v.48, which becomes an exhortation to total commitment to God (e.g., Bonnard). But this makes for a fairly flat conclusion of the antitheses.

A better understanding of the verse does justice to the word teleios but also notes that the form of the verse is exactly like Leviticus 19:2, with “holy” displaced by “perfect,” possibly due to the influence of Deuteronomy 18:13 (where the NIV renders LXX teleios by “blameless”; cf. Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 73–74). Nowhere is God directly and absolutely called “perfect” in the OT: he is perfect in knowledge (Job 37:16) or in his way (Ps 18:30), and a man’s name may be “Yahweh is perfect” (so yôtām [Jotham], Jdg 9:5; 2Ki 15:32). But here for the first time perfection is predicated of God (cf. L. Sabourin, “Why Is God Called ‘Perfect’ in Matthew 5:48?” BZ 24 [1980]: 266–68).

In the light of the preceding verses (vv.17–47), Jesus is saying that the true direction in which the law has always pointed is not toward mere judicial restraints, concessions arising out of the hardness of human hearts, still less casuistical perversions, nor even to the law of love (contra C. Dietzfelbinger, “Die Antithesen der Bergpredigt im Verständnis des Matthäus,” ZNW 70 [1979]: 1–15; see

The Qumran community understood perfection in terms of perfect obedience, as measured exclusively by the teachings of their community (1QS 1:8–9, 13; 2:1–2; 4:22–23; 8:9–10). Jesus has transposed this to a higher key, not by reducing the obedience, but by making the standard the perfect heavenly Father. Ronald A. Ward (Royal Theology [London: MMS, 1964], 117–20) points out that in classical and Hellenistic usage teleios can have a static and a dynamic force, “the one appropriate to One Who does not develop, and the other suitable for men who can grow in grace” (p. 119, emphasis his): “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

The gospel writers refer to God as Father only in contexts pertaining to the Messiah or to believers. He is not the Father of all men but the Father of Jesus and the Father of Jesus’ disciples (cf. H. F. D. Sparks, “The Doctrine of the Fatherhood of God in the Gospels,” in Studies in the Gospels [ed. D. E. Nineham; Oxford: Blackwell, 1955], 241–62). Just as in the OT it was the distinctive mark of Israel that they were set apart for God to reflect his character (Lev 19:2; cf. 11:44–45; 20:7, 26), so the messianic community carries on this distinctiveness (cf. 1Pe 1:16) as the true locus of the people of God (cf. France, Jesus and the Old Testament, 61–62). This must not encourage us to conclude that Jesus teaches that unqualified perfection is already possible for his disciples. He teaches them to acknowledge spiritual bankruptcy (v.3) and to pray “Forgive us our debts” (6:12). But the perfection of the Father, the true eschatological goal of the law, is what all disciples of Jesus pursue.

NOTES

48 The future ἔσεσθε (esesthe, lit., “you will be”) is imperatival, as in LXX Leviticus 19:2 (see

Many commentators compare Luke 6:36 (“Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful”) and discuss which form of the saying is closer to the original. For instance, Hill notes (1) that “merciful” eminently suits Luke’s context and (2) that Matthew’s τέλειοι (teleioi, “perfect”) may render the Aramaic (š^elîm, “perfect”), which could have been part of a pun with (š^elām, “greetings”) in the greetings of 5:47; (3) he concludes that Matthew’s version is probably more original. But a good case could be made for the position that there were two sayings:

1. Not only does Matthew have “perfect” and Luke “merciful,” the verb is different in the two cases: ἔσεσθε (esesthe, “Be,” GK 1639) and γίνεσθε (ginesthe, “Be,” GK 1181) respectively. Luke also omits “heavenly.” In other words, the two sayings have little in common except the comparison between the believer and the Father.

2. Luke’s verse indeed fits its context admirably, but so does Matthew’s.

3. Matthew may have omitted any reference to mercy in his sixth beatitude because he has already dealt with the theme in 5:7 (absent from Luke; and there the word for “mercy” is different).

4. The Aramaic pun is possible (though another Semitic term more commonly stands behind τέλειος [teleios, “perfect”]). Strictly speaking, however, such evidence supports the authenticity of 5:48 but does not render Luke 6:36 secondary unless it is already assumed they came from the same source—which is the very point in dispute.

1“Be careful not to do your ‘acts of righteousness’ before men, to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.”

COMMENTARY

1 If the text behind the NIV is correct (see Notes), Jesus, having told his disciples of the superior righteousness expected of them, now warns them of the danger of religious hypocrisy. “Your righteousness,” first occurring in 5:20, recurs here, though the focus has changed from “righteousness” in a purely positive sense to “righteousness” in a formal, external sense. Modern translations try to show the distinction by various means. The NIV renders the word “acts of righteousness” (in quotation marks), the RSV offers “Beware of practicing your piety before men,” and the NEB, “Be careful not to make a show of your religion before men.” Unfortunately, they are overstepping the evidence.

“To do righteousness” is an expression found elsewhere (Ps 106:3; Isa 58:2; 1Jn 2:29; 3:7, 10). In 1 John 2:29, for instance, it is rendered by the NIV “to do what is right,” and that could suffice here in v.1 as well. Jesus is not so much dealing with a different kind of righteousness or with mere acts of righteousness as with the motives behind righteous living. To attempt to live in accord with the righteousness spelled out in the preceding verses but out of motives eager for human applause is to prostitute that righteousness. For this there will be no reward (see

This verse introduces the three chief acts of Jewish piety (cf. vv.2–18)—almsgiving, prayer, fasting (C. G. Montefiore and H. Loewe, A Rabbinic Anthology [London: Macmillan, 1938], 412–39; Moore, Judaism, 2:162–79). In each act the logical structure is the same: (1) a warning not to do the act to be praised by men, (2) a guarantee that those who ignore this warning will get what they want but no more, (3) instruction on how to perform the act of piety secretly, and (4) the assurance that the Father who sees in secret will reward openly (for details of the logical structure, see H. D. Betz, “Eine judenchristliche Kult-Didache in Matthäus 6:1–18,” in Jesus Christus [ed. Strecker], 445–57).

NOTES

1 Two variants are of interest.

᾽Ελεημοσύνην (eleēmosynēn, “alms”) was probably an early marginal gloss on δικαιοσύνην (dikaiosynēn, “righteousness”), since in the LXX “righteousness” in Hebrew was often rendered “alms.” The gloss was then inserted into the text by a copyist. If “alms” were in fact original, then v.1 should be read with vv.2–4, not as the introduction to vv.2–18; and this would break the carefully wrought structure (discussed above). Moreover, the external evidence strongly supports δικαιοσύνην, dikaiosynēn.

The evidence in favor of the connective δέ (de, “but”) is evenly divided (brackets in UBS⁴; untranslated in NIV). An adversative δέ, de, fits the context very well and therefore may have been inserted.

On εἰ δέ μή γε (ei de mē ge, “otherwise,” or “If you do” [NIV]), cf. Thrall, Greek Particles, 9–10.

OVERVIEW

Although 6:1–6 has no parallel in the Synoptic Gospels, its authenticity is supported by the numerous wordplays in Aramaic reconstructions (cf. Black, Aramaic Approach, 176–78).

2“So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. 3But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, 4so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”

COMMENTARY

2 The “you” is singular (see

The reference to trumpet announcements is difficult. Many commentators say this refers to “the practice of blowing trumpets at the time of collecting alms in the Temple for the relief of some signal need” (Hill, following Bonnard), but no Jewish sources confirm this, and the idea seems to stem only from early Christian expositors who assumed its correctness. Likewise there is no evidence (contra Calvin) that the almsgivers themselves really blew trumpets on their way to the temple. Alfred Edersheim (The Temple: Its Ministry and Services [London: Religious Tract Society, n.d.], 26), followed by Jeremias (Jerusalem, 170 n. 73), suggests this is a reference to horn-shaped collection boxes used at the temple to discourage pilfering. Lachs (“Textual Observations,” 103–5), without mentioning Edersheim, has followed up on that idea by postulating a mistranslation from an underlying Semitic source. But unless the trumpet is a metaphorical caricature (like “tooting your own horn”)—a poorly attested suggestion—the solution of A. Buchler (“St. Matthew 6:1–6 and Other Allied Passages,” JTS 10 [1909]: 266–70) still seems best: public fasts were proclaimed by the sounding of trumpets. At such times, prayers for rain were recited in the streets (cf. v.5), and it was widely thought that almsgiving ensured the efficacy of the fasts and prayers (e.g., b. Sanh. 35a; m. Taʿan 2:6; Lev. Rab. 34:14). But these occasions afforded golden opportunities for ostentation.

Lachs objects that this interpretation makes the givers pompous but not hypocrites. In older Greek a hypokritēs (“hypocrite,” GK 5695) was an actor, but by the first century the term came to be used for those who play roles and see the world as their stage. What Lachs overlooks is that there are different kinds of hypocrisy. In one the hypocrite feigns goodness but is actually evil and knows he is being deceptive (e.g., 22:15–18). In another the hypocrite is carried away by his own acting and deceives himself. Such pious hypocrites (as in 7:1–5), though unaware of their own deceit, do not fool most onlookers, and this may be the meaning here. A third kind of hypocrite deceives himself into thinking he is acting for the best interests of God and man and also deceives onlookers. The needy are unlikely to complain when they receive large gifts, and their gratitude may flatter and thus bolster the giver’s self-delusion (cf. D. A. Spieler, “Hypocrisy: An Exploration of a Third Type,” AUSS 13 [1975]: 273–79). Perhaps it is best to identify the hypocrisy in v.2 with this third type.

The Pharisees’ great weakness was that they loved human praise more than God’s praise (cf. Jn 5:44; 12:43). Those who give out of this attitude receive their reward in full (such is the force of apechousin [GK 600]; cf. Deissmann, Light from the Ancient East, 110–11). They win human plaudits, and that is all they get (cf. Ps 17:14).

3–4 The way to avoid hypocrisy is not to cease giving but to do so with such secrecy that we scarcely know what we have given. Jesus’ disciples must themselves be so given to God (cf. 2Co 8:5) that their giving is prompted by obeying God and having compassion on others. Then their Father, who sees what is done in secret (Heb 4:13), will reward them. The verb “to reward” (apodidomai, GK 625), with God as subject, here and in vv.6, 18, is different from that used in v.2. Bonnard rightly notes it has a sense of “pay back,” and this is compatible with “reward” (see

(a) Ostentatious prayer (6:5–6)

5“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. 6But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”

COMMENTARY

5 Again Jesus assumes that his disciples will pray, but he forbids the prayers of “hypocrites” (see

6 If Jesus were forbidding all public prayer, then clearly the early church did not understand him (e.g., 18:19–20; Ac 1:24; 3:1; 4:24–30). The public versus private antithesis is a good test of one’s motives. The person who prays more in public than in private reveals that he is less interested in God’s approval than in human praise. Not piety but a reputation for piety is his concern. Far better to deal radically with this hypocrisy (cf. 5:29–30) and pray in a private “room”; the word tameion (GK 5421) can refer to a storeroom (Lk 12:24), some other inner room (Mt 12:26; 24:26; Lk 12:3, 24), or even a bedroom (Isa 26:20 LXX, with which this verse has several common elements; see also 2Ki 4:33). The Father, who sees in secret, will reward the disciple who prays in secret (see

NOTES

5 UBS⁴ and Nestle²⁷ follow the plural reading, Nestle-Kilpatrick (Η ΚΑΙΝΗ ΔΙΑΘΗΚΗ [ed. E. Nestle and G. D. Kilpatrick; London: British and Foreign Bible Society, 1958]) the singular. The former is marginally more probable on external grounds, and many argue that corruption to the singular occurred because of assimilation to the singular in v.4 and v.6. But copyists might equally have noted the recurring pattern of plural to singular changes in these verses (v.1—vv.2–4; v.16—vv.17–18). See

The use of the future οὐκ ἔσεσθε (ouk esesthe, “do not be”) with imperatival force usually reflects legal language from the OT (BDF, para. 362). But here and in 20:26 it is found in words ascribed to Jesus with no unambiguous OT precedent (Zerwick, Biblical Greek, para. 443).

On the idiom φιλοῦσιν ... προσεύχεσθαι (philousin ... proseuchesthai, “they love ... to pray”), see Turner, Syntax, 226.

(b) Repetitious prayer (6:7–8)

7“And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. 8Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.”

COMMENTARY

7–8 Verses 7–15 focus on the second of the three chief acts of Jewish piety, namely prayer. Prayer is central to a believer’s life. So Jesus gives further warnings and a positive example.

Many argue that whereas vv.5–6 warn against the prayer practices of Jews, vv.7–8 warn against those of Gentiles (“pagans”; see

The verb battalogeō (“keep on babbling”) is very rare, apart from writings dependent on the NT (BDAG, 172). It may derive from the Aramaic battal (“idle,” “useless”) or some other Semitic word; or it may be onomatopoetic. If so, “babble” is a fine English equivalent. Jesus is not condemning prayer any more than he is condemning almsgiving (v.2) or fasting (v.16). Nor is he forbidding all long prayers or all repetition. He himself prayed at length (Lk 6:12), repeated himself in prayer (Mt 26:44; unlike Sir 7:14!), and told a parable to show his disciples that “they should always pray and not give up” (Lk 18:1). His point is that his disciples should avoid meaningless, repetitive prayers offered under the misconception that mere length will make prayers efficacious. Such thoughtless babble can occur in liturgical and extemporaneous prayers alike. Essentially it is thoroughly pagan, for pagan gods allegedly thrive on incantation and repetition. But the personal Father God to whom believers pray does not require information about our needs (v.8). “As a father knows the needs of his family, yet teaches them to ask in confidence and trust, so does God treat his children” (Hill).

(c) Model prayer (6:9–13)

OVERVIEW

“The Lord’s Prayer,” as it is commonly called, is not so much his own prayer (Jn 17 is just that) as the model he gave his disciples. Much of the literature has focused on the complex question of the relation between vv.9–13 and Luke 11:2–4. The newer EV reveal the many differences. KJV does not show the differences so clearly because it preserves the numerous assimilations to Matthew in late MSS of Luke (cf. Metzger, Textual Commentary, 154–56). Various theories attempt to account for the differences.

1. Formerly some argued that Matthew’s form is the original and Luke’s a simplified version of it. This view is no longer popular, largely because of the difficulty of believing that Luke, who was highly interested in Jesus’ prayer life, would omit words and clauses from one of his prayers if they were already in a source.

2. Others have argued strongly that Luke’s account is original and that Matthew has added to it according to his own theology and linguistic habit (so Jeremias, Prayers of Jesus, 85ff.; Hill). Several reasons for this theory follow.

a. All Luke’s content is found in Matthew 6:9–13. But this could support condensation by Luke as easily as expansion by Matthew. More important, mere expansion-condensation theories do not account for the linguistic differences (e.g., tense in the fourth petition, vocabulary and tense in the fifth), and the theory is further weakened when it is argued (e.g., by Hill) that in the fourth petition the priorities are reversed and Matthew’s form is probably more original than Luke’s.

b. Matthew’s more rhythmical, liturgical formulation may reflect the desire to construct an ecclesiastical equivalent for Jewish Christians of the synagogue’s main prayer, the Eighteen Benedictions (Davies, Setting, 310ff.), to which the Lord’s Prayer structurally and formally corresponds. But these correspondences have been greatly exaggerated. They are no closer than those found in fine extemporaneous prayers prayed in evangelical churches every Wednesday night (on the differences, see Günther Bornkamm, Jesus of Nazareth [London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1960], 136–37). Moreover, Jesus was far removed from innovation for its own sake. Why should he not have expressed himself in current forms of piety?

c. Many argue that the Matthean introduction (v.9) suggests that the prayer is a standardized liturgical form. On the contrary, the text reads, “This is how (houtōs) you should pray,” not, “This is what you should pray.” The emphasis is on paradigm or model, not liturgical form.

d. It has been argued that the emphatic “you” (v.9) “sets off the new Christian community from the synagogue (and Gentile usage) whose piety is being contrasted with Christian worship in the surrounding context.” Not only is this needlessly anachronistic, but it also ignores the constant stress on “you,” designating Jesus’ disciples as the exclusive messianic community in Jesus’ day (see

3. Ernst Lohmeyer (The Lord’s Prayer [London: Collins, 1965], 293) argues that the two prayers do not spring from one source (Q?) but from two separate traditions. In Matthew the prayer reflects the liturgical tradition of the Galilean Christian community and emphasizes a certain eschatological outlook, whereas in Luke the prayer reflects the liturgical tradition of the Jerusalem church and focuses more on daily life. He refuses to be drawn out on what stands behind these two traditions. Lohmeyer’s geographical speculations are not convincing, but his emphasis on two separate traditions of the Lord’s Prayer is worth careful consideration. Evidence from the Didache and the demonstrable tendency for local churches to think of themselves as Christian synagogues (e.g., in the letters of Ignatius) and to adopt some synagogal liturgical patterns combine to suggest that the Lord’s Prayer was used in corporate worship from a very early date. If (and this is a big “if”) such church liturgies stretch back to the time when Matthew and Luke were written, it seems unlikely that the evangelists would disregard the liturgical habits of their own communities, unless for overwhelming historical or theological reasons (e.g., correction of heresy within the accepted liturgy). But none such is evident. This reinforces the theory of two separate liturgical traditions. On the other hand, if fixed liturgical patterns had not yet included any form of the Lord’s Prayer by the time the evangelists wrote, the differences between the two are not easily explained by a common source.

4. These complexities have generated several mediating theories. To give but one, Marshall (Gospel of Luke, 455) suggests that Luke drew his form of the prayer either from Q or from a recension of Q different from that of Matthew, whereas Matthew drew his either from separate tradition and substituted it for what he found in Q (if his recension of Q was the same as Luke’s) or else from a separate recension. This is little more than an elegant way of saying that Lohmeyer’s two-traditions theory is basically correct. It may be too elegant. Many suspect that Q is not a single document (see Introduction, ), and to speak thus of recensions of Q when our knowledge of Q is so uncertain makes one wonder how to distinguish methodologically between recensions of Q and entirely separate accounts of two historical occasions within Jesus’ ministry. Resolving the unknown by appealing to the more unknown is of dubious merit.

5. Though the evidence for two traditions is strong, equally significant is the fact that there are two entirely different historical settings of the prayer. Unless one is prepared to say that one or the other is made up, the reasonable explanation is that Jesus taught this sort of prayer often during his itinerant ministry and that Matthew records one occasion and Luke another. Matthew’s setting is not as historically specific as that of Luke only if one interprets the introduction and the conclusion of the entire discourse loosely or if one postulates Matthew’s freedom to add “footnotes” to the material he provides (see

Few have doubted that the prayer is in some form authentic. Goulder (Midrash and Lection, 296–301) argues that Matthew composed it from fragments, most of which were authentic but uttered on other and separate occasions, and that Luke copied and adapted Matthew’s work. His theory is unconvincing because it does no more than show parallels between elements of this prayer and other things Jesus said or prayed. The same evidence could equally be read as supporting the prayer’s authenticity. It is well worth noting that there is no anachronism in the prayer—no mention of Jesus as high priestly Mediator, no allusion to themes developed only after the resurrection.

There are signs of Semitic background, whether Aramaic (e.g., Black, Aramaic Approach, 203–8) or Hebrew (Carmignac, Recherches sur le “Notre Père,” 29–52). Scholars debate whether Matthew’s version has six petitions (Chrysostom, Calvin, and Reformed theologians) or seven, interpreting v.13 as two (Augustine, Luther, most Lutheran theologians). The issue affects the meaning but little. More important, as Bengel (Gnomon) remarks, is the division of the petitions. The first three are cast in terms of God’s glory (“your ... your ... your”); the others in terms of our good (“us ... us ... us”). For recent theological meditations on this prayer, see Gerald Bray, Yours Is the Kingdom (Leicester: InterVarsity, 2006), and Philip Graham Ryken, The Prayer of Our Lord (Wheaton, Ill.: Crossway, 2007).

9“This, then, is how you should pray:

“‘Our Father in heaven,

hallowed be your name,

10your kingdom come,

your will be done

on earth as it is in heaven.

11Give us today our daily bread.

12Forgive us our debts,

as we also have forgiven our debtors.

13And lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from the evil one.’”

COMMENTARY

9 By contrast with ostentatious prayer (vv.5–6) or thoughtless prayer (vv.7–8), Jesus gives his disciples a model. But it is only a model: “This is how [not what] you should pray.”

The fatherhood of God is not a central theme in the OT. Where “father” does occur with respect to God, it is commonly by way of analogy, not direct address (Dt 32:6; Ps 103:13; Isa 63:16; Mal 2:10). One can also find occasional references to God as father in the Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha (Tob 13:4; Sir 23:1; 51:10; Wis 2:16; 14:3; Jub. 1:24–25, 28; T. Levi 18:6; T. Jud. 24:2—though some of these may be Christian interpolations). There is but one instance in the Dead Sea Scrolls (1QS 9:35); the assorted rabbinic references are relatively rare and few unambiguously antedate Jesus (b. Taʿan. 25b; the fifth and sixth petitions of the Eighteen Benedictions). Pagans likewise on occasion addressed their gods as father, e.g., Zeu pater (“Zeus, Father”; Lat. Jupiter). But not until Jesus is it characteristic to address God as “Father” (Jeremias, Prayers of Jesus, 11ff.). This can be understood only against the background of customary patterns for addressing God.

The tendency in Jewish circles was to multiply titles ascribing sovereignty, lordship, glory, grace, and the like to God (cf. Carson, Divine Sovereignty, 45ff.). Against such a background, Jesus’ habit of addressing God as his own Father (Mk 14:36) and teaching his disciples to do the same could appear only familiar and presumptuous to opponents, personal and gracious to followers. Unfortunately, many modern Christians find it difficult to delight in the privilege of addressing the Sovereign of the universe as “Father” because they have lost the heritage that emphasizes God’s transcendence.

Jesus’ use of Abba (“Father” or “my Father”; GK 5, but see also GK 10003; Mk 14:36; cf. Mt 11:25; 26:39, 42; Lk 23:34; Jn 11:41; 12:27; 17:1–26) was adopted by early Christians (Ro 8:15; Gal 4:6), and there is no evidence of anyone before Jesus using this term to address God (cf. NIDNTT, 1:614–15). Throughout the prayer the reference is plural: “Our Father” (which in Aram. would have been ʾabînû, not ʾabba). In other words, this is an example of a prayer to be prayed in fellowship with other disciples (cf. 18:19), not in isolation (cf. Jn 20:17). Striking is Jesus’ use of pronouns with “Father.” When forgiveness of sins is discussed, Jesus speaks of “your Father” (6:14–15) and excludes himself. When he speaks of his unique sonship and authority, he speaks of “my Father” (e.g., 11:27) and excludes others. The “our Father” at the beginning of this model prayer is plural but does not include Jesus, since it is part of his instruction regarding what his disciples should pray.

This opening designation establishes the kind of God to whom prayer is offered: He is personal (no mere “ground of being”) and caring (a Father, not a tyrant or an ogre, but the one who establishes the real nature of fatherhood; cf. Eph 3:14–15). That he is “our Father” establishes the relationship that exists between Jesus’ disciples and God. In this sense he is not the Father of all people indiscriminately (see

God’s “name” is a reflection of who he is (cf. NIDNTT, 2:648–56). God’s “name” is God himself as he is and has revealed himself, and so his name is already holy. Holiness, often thought of as “separateness,” is less an attribute than what he is. It has to do with the very godhood of God. Therefore to pray that God’s “name” be “hallowed” (the verbal form of “holy,” recurring in Matthew only at 23:17, 19 [NIV, “makes sacred”]) is not to pray that God may become holy but that he may be treated as holy (cf. Ex 20:8; Lev 19:2, 32; Eze 36:23; 1Pe 1:15), that his name should not be despised (Mal 1:6) by the thoughts and conduct of those who have been created in his image.

10 As God is eternally holy, so he eternally reigns in absolute sovereignty. Yet it is appropriate to pray not only “hallowed be your name” but also “your kingdom come.” God’s “kingdom” or “reign” (see

To pray that God’s will, which is “good, pleasing and perfect” (Ro 12:2), be done on earth as in heaven is to use language broad enough to embrace three requests.

1. The first request is that God’s will be done now on earth as it is now accomplished in heaven. The word thelēma (“will,” GK 2525) includes both God’s righteous demands (7:21; 12:50; cf. Ps 40:8) and his determination to bring about certain events in salvation history (18:14; 26:42; cf. Ac 21:14). So for that will to be “done” includes both moral obedience and the bringing to pass of certain events, such as the cross. This prayer corresponds to asking for the present extension of the messianic kingdom.

2. The second request is that God’s will may ultimately be as fully accomplished on earth as it is now accomplished in heaven. “Will” has the same range of meanings as before, and this prayer corresponds to asking for the consummation of the messianic kingdom.

3. The third request is that God’s will may ultimately be done on the earth in the same way as it is now accomplished in heaven. In the consummated kingdom, it will not be necessary to discuss superior righteousness (5:20–48) as antithetical to lust, hate, retaliatory face slapping, divorce, and the like; for then God’s will, construed now as his demands for righteousness, will be done as it is now done in heaven: freely, openly, spontaneously, and without the need to set it over against evil (Carson, Sermon on the Mount, 66–67).

These first three petitions, though they focus on God’s name, God’s kingdom, and God’s will, are nevertheless prayers that he may act in such a way that his people will hallow his name, submit to his reign, and do his will. It is therefore impossible to pray this prayer in sincerity without humbly committing oneself to such a course.

11 The last petitions explicitly request things for ourselves. The first is “bread,” a term used to cover all food (cf. Pr 30:8; Mk 3:20; Ac 6:1; 2Th 3:12; Jas 2:15). Many early fathers thought it inappropriate to talk about physical food here and interpreted “bread” as a reference to the Lord’s Supper or to the Word of God. This depended in part on Jerome’s Latin rendering of epiousios (NIV, “daily,” GK 2157) as superstantialem: Give us today our “supersubstantial” bread—a rendering that may have depended in part on the influence of Marius Victorinus (cf. F. F. Bruce, “The Gospel Text of Marius Victorinus,” in Text and Interpretation [ed. Best and Wilson], 70). There is no linguistic justification for this translation. The bread is real food, and it may further suggest all that we need in the physical realm (Luther).

That does not mean that epiousios is easy to translate. The term appears only here and in Luke’s prayer (Lk 11:3); and the two possible extrabiblical references, which could support “daily,” have had grave doubt cast on them by Bruce M. Metzger (“How Many Times Does ἐπιούσιος Occur Outside the Lord’s Prayer?” ExpTim 69 [1957–58]: 52–54). P. Grelot (“La quatrième demande du ‘Pater’ et son arrièreplan sémitique,” NTS 25 [1978–79]: 299–314) has attempted to support the same translation (“daily”) by reconstructing an Aramaic original, but his article deals inadequately with the Greek text, and other Aramaic reconstructions are possible (e.g., Black, Aramaic Approach, 203–7).

The prayer is for our needs, not our greeds. It is for one day at a time (“today”), reflecting the precarious lifestyle of many first-century workers who were paid one day at a time and for whom a few days’ illness could spell tragedy. Many have suggested a derivation from epi tēn ousan [namely, hēmeran] (“for today”) or hē epiousa hēmera (“for the coming day”), referring in the morning to the same day and at night to the next (for hēmera[n], see GK 2465). This meaning is almost certainly right, but it is better supported by deriving the word from the feminine participle epiousa, already well established with the sense of “immediately following” by the time the NT was written. Whatever the etymological problems, this makes sense of Luke 11:3, where “each day” is part of the text: “Give us each day our bread for the coming day.” Equally it makes sense in Matthew, where “today” displaces “each day”: “Give us today our bread for the coming day.” This may sound redundant to Western readers, but it is a precious and urgent petition to those who live from hand to mouth.

Some derive epiousios (“daily”) from the verb epienai, referring not to the future, still less to the food of the messianic banquet (contra Jeremias, Prayers of Jesus, 100–102), but to the bread that belongs to it, i.e., that is necessary and sufficient for it (cf. R. Ten Kate, “Geef ons heden ons ‘dagelijks’ brood,” Nederlands Theologisch Tijdschrift 32 [1978]: 125–39; with similar conclusions but by a different route, H. Bourgoin, “᾽Επιούσιος expliqué par la notion de préfixe vide,” Bib 60 [1979]: 91–96; and for literature, BDAG, 376–77; Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 74–75). This has the considerable merit of meshing well with both “today” and “each day” (Matthew and Luke respectively), and in Matthew’s case it may be loosely rendered “Give us today the food we need.” But the derivation is linguistically artificial (cf. Colin Hemer, “᾽Επιούσιος, JSNT 22 [1984]: 81–94).

The idea of God “giving” the food in no way diminishes responsibility to work (see

12 The first three petitions stand independently from one another. The last three, however, are linked in Greek by “ands,” almost as if to say that life sustained by food is not enough. We also need forgiveness of sin and deliverance from temptation.

In Matthew, what we ask to be forgiven for is ta opheilēmata hēmōn (“our debts,” GK 4052); in Luke, it is our “sins.” Hill notes that the crucial word to opheilēma (“debt”) “means a literal ‘debt’ in the LXX and NT, except at this point.” And on this basis, S. T. Lachs (“On Matthew 6.12,” NovT 17 [1975]: 6–8) argues that in Matthew this petition of the Lord’s Prayer is not really dealing with sins but with loans in the sixth year, one year before the Jubilee. But the linguistic evidence can be read differently. The word opheilēma is rather rare in biblical Greek. It occurs only four times in the LXX (Dt 24:10 [2x]; 1 Esd 3:20; 1 Macc 15:8); and in Deuteronomy 24:10, where it occurs twice, it renders two different Hebrew words. In the NT, it appears only here and in Romans 4:4. On this basis it would be as accurate to say the word always means “sin” in the NT except at Romans 4:4 as to say it always means “debt” except at Matthew 6:12.

More important, the Aramaic word ḥôbā (“debt”) is often used (e.g., in the Targums) to mean “sin” or “transgression.” Deissmann (Bible Studies, 225) notes an instance of the cognate verb hamartian opheilō (lit., “I owe sin”). Probably Matthew has provided a literal rendering of the Aramaic Jesus most commonly used in preaching; and even Luke (Lk 11:4) uses the cognate participle in the second line, panti opheilonti hēmin (“everyone who sins against us”). There is therefore no reason to take “debts” to mean anything other than “sins,” here conceived as something owed God (whether sins of commission or omission).

Some have taken the second clause to mean that our forgiveness is the real cause of God’s forgiveness, i.e., that God’s forgiveness must be earned by our own. The problem is often judged more serious in Matthew than Luke, because the latter has the present “we forgive,” the former the aorist (not perfect, as many commentators assume) aphēkamen (“we have forgiven”; GK 918). Many follow the suggestion of Jeremias (Prayers of Jesus, 92–93), who says that Matthew has awkwardly rendered an Aramaic perfectum praesens (a “present perfect”): he renders the clause “as we also herewith forgive our debtors.”

The real solution is best expounded by C. F. D. Moule (“‘... As we forgive ...’: a Note on the Distinction between Deserts and Capacity in the Understanding of Forgiveness,” in Donum Gentilicium [ed. E. Bammel et al.; Oxford: Clarendon 1978], 68–77), who, in addition to detailing the most important relevant Jewish literature, rightly insists on distinguishing “between, on the one hand, earning or meriting forgiveness, and, on the other hand, adopting an attitude which makes forgiveness possible—the distinction, that is, between deserts and capacity.... Real repentance, as contrasted with a merely self-regarding remorse, is certainly a sine qua non of receiving forgiveness—an indispensable condition” (pp. 71–72). “Once our eyes have been opened to see the enormity of our offense against God, the injuries which others have done to us appear by comparison extremely trifling. If, on the other hand, we have an exaggerated view of the offenses of others, it proves that we have minimized our own” (Stott, Message of the Sermon on the Mount, 149–50; see

13 The word peirasmos (“temptation,” GK 4280) and its cognate verb rarely if ever before the NT mean “temptation” in the sense of “enticement to sin” (whether from inward lust or outward circumstances) but rather “testing” (see

But if peirasmos here means testing, we face another problem. The NT everywhere insists that believers will face testings or trials of many kinds but that these should be faced with joy (Jas 1:2; cf. 1Co 10:13). If this is so, to pray for grace and endurance in trial is understandable; but to pray not to be brought to testings is strange. For detailed probing of the problem and interaction with the sources, see C. F. D. Moule, “An Unsolved Problem in the Temptation-Clause in the Lord’s Prayer,” RTR 33 (1974): 65–75.

Some have argued that the testing is the eschatological tribulation, the period of messianic woes (e.g., Jeremias, Prayers of Jesus, 104–7) characterized by apostasy. The petition becomes a plea to be secured from that final apostasy and is reflected in the NEB’s “do not bring us to the test.” But not only is peirasmos never used for this tribulation unless carefully qualified (and therefore Rev 3:10 is no exception, regardless of its interpretation), but one would at least expect to find the article in the Matthean clause. Carmignac (Recherches sur le “Notre Père,” 396, 445) so reconstructs the alleged Hebrew original that he distinguishes “to testing” from “into testing,” interpreting the latter to mean actually succumbing. The prayer then asks to be spared, not from testing, but from failing. Unfortunately, his linguistic arguments are not convincing.

Many cite b. Ber. 60b as a parallel: “Bring me not into sin, or into iniquity, or into temptation, or into contempt.” It is possible that the causative form of the Lord’s Prayer is, similarly, not meant to be unmediated but has a permissive nuance: “Let us not be brought into temptation [i.e., by the devil].” This interpretation is greatly strengthened if the word “temptation” can be taken to mean “trial or temptation that results in fall”; this appears to be required in two NT passages (Mk 14:38; Gal 6:1; cf. J. V. Dahms, “Lead Us Not into Temptation,” JETS 17 [1974]: 229).

It also may be that we are forcing this sixth petition into too rigid a mold. The NT tells us that this age will be characterized by wars and rumors of wars (see

“Deliver us” (rhyomai, GK 4861) could mean either, on the one hand, “spare us from,” “preserve us against,” or, on the other hand, “deliver us out of,” “save us from” (BDAG, 907–8). Both are spiritually relevant, and which way the verb is taken depends largely on how the preceding clause is understood. The words tou ponērou (“the evil one,” GK 4505) could be either neuter (“evil”; cf. Lk 6:45; Ro 12:9; 1Th 5:22) or masculine (“the evil one,” referring to Satan; Mt 13:19, 38; Eph 6:16; 1 Jn 2:13–14; 3:12; 5:19). In some cases, the Greek does not distinguish the gender (see

The doxology—“for yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen”—is found in various forms in many MSS. The diversity of what parts are attested is itself suspicious (for full discussion, see Metzger, Textual Commentary, 16–17; cf. Hendriksen, 337–38). The MS evidence is overwhelmingly in favor of omission—a point conceded by Davies (Setting, 451–53), whose liturgical arguments for inclusion are not convincing.

The doxology itself is theologically profound and contextually suitable and was no doubt judged especially suitable by those who saw in the last three petitions a veiled allusion to the Trinity: the Father’s creation and providence provides our bread, the Son’s atonement secures our forgiveness, and the Spirit’s indwelling power assures our safety and triumph. But “surely it is more important to know what the Bible really contains and really means than to cling to something not really in the Bible, merely because it gratifies our taste, or even because it has for us some precious associations” (Broadus).

NOTES

12 The KJV has the present “we forgive” in both Matthew and Luke and is widely supported. The aorist is attested by * B Z 1 22 124^mg 1365 1582, five MSS of the Latin Vulgate, and several MSS of the Syriac and Coptic versions. This represents a fair spread of text type. But the convincing arguments are the likelihood of assimilation to Luke and the converse implausibility of a copyist changing the present to an aorist.

(d) Forgiveness and prayer (6:14–15)

14“For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. 15But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”

COMMENTARY

14–15 These verses reinforce the thought of the fifth petition (see

16“When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show men they are fasting. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. 17But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, 18so that it will not be obvious to men that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”

COMMENTARY

16 Under Mosaic legislation, fasting was commanded only on the Day of Atonement (Lev 16:29–31; 23:27–32; Nu 29:7); during the exile regular fasts of remembrance were instituted (Zec 7:3–5; 8:19). In addition to these national fasts, both OT and NT describe personal or group fasts with a variety of purposes, especially to indicate and foster self-humiliation before God, often in connection with the confession of sins (e.g., Ne 9:1–2; Ps 35:13; Isa 58:3, 5; Da 9:2–20; 10:2–3; Jnh 3:5; Ac 9:9) or to lay some special petition before the Lord, sometimes out of anguish, danger, or desperation (Ex 24:18; Jdg 20:26; 2Sa 1:12; 2Ch 20:3; Ezr 8:21–23; Est 4:16; Mt 4:1–2; Ac 13:1–3; 14:23). It may belong to the realm of normal Christian self-discipline (1Co 9:24–27; cf. Php 3:19; 1Pe 4:3), but already in the OT, it is bitterly excoriated when it is purely formal and largely hypocritical (Isa 58:3–7; Jer 14:12; Zec 7:5–6)—when, for instance, men fasted but did not share their food with the hungry (Isa 58:1–7).

In Jesus’ day, the Pharisees fasted twice a week (Lk 18:12; cf. Str-B, 2:242ff.), probably Monday and Thursday (m. Taʿan. 1:4–7). Some devout people (e.g., Anna) fasted often (Lk 2:37). But such voluntary fasts provided marvelous opportunities for religious showmanship to gain a reputation for piety. One could adopt an air that was “somber” (or “downcast,” Lk 24:17, the only other place in the NT where the word skythrōpos is used) and disfigure oneself, perhaps by not washing and shaving, by sprinkling ashes on one’s head to signify deep contrition or self-abnegation, or by omitting normal use of oil to signify deep distress (cf. 2Sa 14:2; Da 10:3). The point is not that there was no genuine contrition but that these hypocrites were purposely drawing attention to themselves. They wanted the plaudits of men and got them. And that’s all they got.

17–18 Yet Jesus, far from banning fasting, assumes his disciples will fast, even as he assumes they will give alms and pray (vv.3, 6). His disciples may not fast at the moment, for the messianic bridegroom is with them and it is the time for joy (9:14–17). But the time will come when they will fast (9:15). (Observe in passing that here Jesus assumes the continued existence of his disciples after his departure.) What he condemns is ostentation in fasting. Moreover, he forbids any sign at all that a fast has been undertaken, because the human heart is so mixed in its motives that the desire to seek God will be diluted by the desire for human praise, thus vitiating the fast.

Washing and anointing with oil (v.17) were merely normal steps in hygiene. Oil does not here symbolize extravagant joy but normal body care (cf. Ru 3:3; 2Sa 12:20; Pss 23:5; 104:15; 133:2; Ecc 9:8; Lk 7:46; cf. NIDNTT, 1:120). The point of v.18 is not to draw attention to oneself, whether by somber mien or extravagant joy. Jesus desires reticence, not deception. And the Father, who sees in secret, will provide the reward (see

REFLECTIONS

The three principal acts of Jewish piety (vv.1–18) are only examples of many practices susceptible of religious hypocrisy. Early in the second century, the Christian document Didache (8:1), while polemicizing against the Monday and Thursday “fasts of the hypocrites,” enjoins Christians to fast on Wednesday and Friday. Christian copyists added “fasting” glosses at several points in the NT (17:21; Mk 9:29; Ac 10:30; 1Co 7:5). Hypocrisy is not the sole preserve of Pharisees. The solution is not to abolish fasting (cf. Alexander’s remark that mortification of the flesh “can be better attained by habitual temperance than by occasional abstinence”) but to set it within a biblical framework (see references at v.16) and sincerely to covet God’s blessing. For if the form of vv.1–18 is negative, the point is positive—namely, to seek first God’s kingdom and righteousness (cf. v.33).

OVERVIEW

Many argue that these verses are made up of four blocks of material that originally had independent settings: (1) Mt 6:19–21 = Lk 12:33–34; (2) Mt 6:22–23 = Lk 11:34–36; (3) Mt 6:24 = Lk 16:13; (4) Mt 6:25–34 = Lk 12:22–31. But the first pair are very different and should be treated as separate traditions of separate sayings; the third pair are very close (only a one-word difference), and both Matthew and Luke assign it to the same sermon; the second and fourth pairs are fairly close, but exegesis of Luke suggests his settings are topical. The context Matthew establishes should be accepted at face value. Certainly the flow is coherent. Having excoriated religious piety that is little more than ostentation, Jesus warns against the opposite sins of greed, materialism, and worry that stem from misplaced and worldly priorities. Instead, he demands unswerving loyalty to kingdom values (vv.19–24) and uncompromised trust (vv.25–34).

OVERVIEW

Black (Aramaic Approach, 178–79) shows the poetical character of vv.19–21, v.19 warning against the wrong way, v.20 prescribing the right way, and v.21 rounding it off with a memorable aphorism. Hill comments, “Such rhythm and balance suggest that these verses contain original dominical teaching.” The assessment is fair. One wonders, however, why similar structure and rhythm should elsewhere be judged liturgical, catechetical, and inauthentic (see

19“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. 20But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. 21For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

COMMENTARY

19 The present tense prohibition mē thēsaurizete (GK 2564) conceives of the “storing up” as a process, a practice that must be stopped (similarly at v.25).

The love of wealth is a great evil (1Ti 6:10), calling forth frequent warnings. For heirs of the kingdom to hoard riches in the last days (Jas 5:2–3) is particularly shortsighted. Yet, as with many of Jesus’ prohibitions in this sermon, it would be foolhardy so to absolutize this one that wealth itself becomes an evil (see Lk 14:12; Jn 4:21; 1Pe 3:3–4 for other statements that cannot properly be absolutized). Elsewhere the Scriptures require a man to provide for his relatives (1Ti 5:8), commend work and provision for the future (Pr 6:6–8), and encourage us to enjoy the good things the Creator has given us (1Ti 4:3–4; 6:17). Jesus is concerned about selfishness in misplaced values. His disciples must not lay up treasure for themselves; they must honestly ask where their heart is (vv.20–21).

This verse does not prohibit “being provident (making sensible provision for the future) but being covetous (like misers who hoard and materialists who always want more)” (Stott, Message of the Sermon on the Mount, 155). But it is folly to put oneself in the former category while acting and thinking in the latter (cf. France, “God and Mammon”).

The “treasures on earth” might be clothing that could be attacked by moths. Fashions changed little, and garments could be passed on. They could also deteriorate. “Rust” (brōsis, GK 1111) refers not only to the corrosion of metals but to the destruction effected by rats, mildew, and the like. Older commentaries often picture a farm being devoured by mice and other vermin. Less corruptible treasures could be stolen. Thieves could “break in [dioryssousin, “dig through,” referring to the mud brick walls of most first-century Palestinian homes] and steal.”

20–21 By contrast, the treasures in heaven are forever exempt from decay and theft (cf. Lk 12:33). The words “treasures in heaven” go back to Jewish literature (m. Peʾah 1:1; T. Levi 13:5; Pss. Sol. 9:9). Here it refers to whatever is of good and eternal significance that comes out of what is done on earth. Doing righteous deeds, suffering for Christ’s sake, forgiving one another—all these have the promise of “reward” (see

In the best MSS, the final aphorism (v.21) reverts to second person singular (cf. vv.2, 6, 17; see

22“The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light. 23But if your eyes are bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!”

COMMENTARY

22–23 “The eye is the lamp of the body” in the sense that through the eye the body finds its way. The eye lets in light, and so the whole body is illuminated. But bad eyes let in no light, and the body is in darkness (v.23). The “light within you” seems ironic. Those with bad eyes, who walk in darkness, think they have light, but this light is in reality darkness. The darkness is all the more terrible for failure to recognize it for what it is (cf. Jn 9:41).

This fairly straightforward description has metaphorical implications. The “eye” can be equivalent to the “heart.” The heart set on God so as to hold to his commands (Ps 119:10) is equivalent to the eye fastened on God’s law (Ps 119:18, 148; cf. 119:36–37). Similarly Jesus moves from “heart” (v.21) to “eye” (vv.22–23). Moreover, the text moves between physical description and metaphor by the words chosen for “good” and “bad.” Haplous (“good,” v.22, GK 606) and its cognates can mean either “single” (vs. diplous, “double,” 1Ti 5:17, GK 1487) in the sense of “single, undivided loyalty” (cf. 1Ch 29:17) or in cognate forms “generous,” “liberal” (cf. Ro 12:8; Jas 1:5). Likewise, ponēros (“bad,” v.23, GK 4505) can mean “evil” (e.g., Ro 12:9) or in the Jewish idiomatic expression “the evil eye” can refer to miserliness and selfishness (cf. Pr 28:22; see Hagner). Jesus is therefore saying either (1) that the man who “divides his interest and tries to focus on both God and possessions ... has no clear vision, and will live without clear orientation or direction” (Filson)—an interpretation nicely compatible with v.24; or (2) that the man who is stingy and selfish cannot really see where he is going; he is morally and spiritually blind—an interpretation compatible with vv.19–21. Either way, the early crossover to metaphor may account for the difficult language of v.22.

At the physical level, the “whole body” is just that, a body, of which the eye is the part that provides “light” (cf. R. Gundry, Soma [Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1976], 24–25). At the metaphorical level, it represents the entire person who is plunged into moral darkness. The “light within you” is therefore the vision that the eye with divided loyalties provides, or the attitude characterized by selfishness; in both cases it is darkness indeed. This approach, which depends on the OT and Jewish usage, is much to be preferred to the one that goes to Hellenistic literature and interprets “the light within you” in a Neoplatonic sense (e.g., H. D. Betz, “Matthew 6.22–23 and Ancient Greek Theories of Vision,” in Text and Interpretation [ed. Best and Wilson], 43–56).

24“No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money.”

COMMENTARY

24 John Stott (Message of the Sermon on the Mount, 158) comments, “Jesus now explains that behind the choice between two treasures (where we lay them up) and two visions (where we fix our eyes) there lies the still more basic choice between two masters (whom we are going to serve).” “Money” renders Greek mamōna (“mammon,” GK 3440), itself a transliteration of Aramaic māmônā (in the emphatic state; “wealth,” “property”). The root in both Aramaic and Hebrew (mn) indicates that in which one has confidence, and the connection with money and wealth, well attested in Jewish literature (e.g., m. Peʾah 1:1; b. Ber. 61b; m. ʾAbot 2:7; and not always in a negative sense), is painfully obvious. Here it is personified. Both God and Money are portrayed, not as employers, but as slave owners. A man may work for two employers; but since “single ownership and full-time service are of the essence of slavery” (Tasker), he cannot serve two slave owners. Either God is served with a single-eyed devotion, or he is not served at all. Attempts at divided loyalty betray not partial commitment to discipleship but deep-seated commitment to idolatry.

25“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?”

COMMENTARY

25 “Therefore,” in the light of the alternatives set out (vv.19–24) and assuming his disciples will make the right choices, Jesus goes on to prohibit worry. The KJV’s “Take no thought” is deceptive in modern English, for Jesus himself demands that we think even about birds and flowers (vv.26–30). “Do not worry” can be falsely absolutized by neglecting the limitations the context imposes and the curses on carelessness, apathy, indifference, laziness, and self-indulgence expressed elsewhere (cf. Carson, Sermon on the Mount, 82–86; Stott, Message of the Sermon on the Mount, 165–68). The point is not to worry about the physical necessities, let alone the luxuries implied in the preceding verses, because such fretting suggests that our entire existence focuses on and is limited to such things. The argument is a fortiori (“how much more”) and not (contra Hill) a minori ad maius (“from the lesser to the greater”) but the reverse: if God has given us life and a body, both admittedly more important than food and clothing, will he not also give us the latter? Therefore fretting about such things betrays the loss of faith and the perversion of more valuable commitments (cf. Lk 10:41–42; Heb 13:5–6).

NOTES

25 Because the subjunctives τί φάγητε ἢ τί πίητε (ti phagēte ē ti piēte, “what you will eat or drink”) are in indirect discourse, they should be taken as deliberative subjunctives retained with the shift in discourse (cf. the subjunctives in v.31).

(a) Life and food (6:26–27)

26“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?”

COMMENTARY

26 To worry about food and drink is to have learned nothing from the natural creation. If the created order testifies to God’s “eternal power and divine nature” (Ro 1:20), it testifies equally to his providence. The point is not that disciples need not work—birds do not simply wait for God to drop food into their beaks—but that they need not fret. Disciples may further strengthen their faith when they remember that God is in a special sense their Father (not the birds’ Father), and that they are worth far more than birds (“you” is emphatic). Here the argument is from the lesser to the greater.

This argument presupposes a biblical cosmology without which faith makes no sense. God is so sovereign over the universe that even the feeding of a wren falls within his concern. Because he normally does things in regular ways, there are “scientific laws” to be discovered. But the believer with eyes to see simultaneously discovers something about God and his activity (cf. Carson, Sermon on the Mount, 87–90).

27 The word hēlikia (“life,” GK 2461) can also be rendered “stature” (cf. Lk 19:3) or “age” (Heb 11:11); pēchys (NIV, “hour,” GK 4388) also means “cubit” (about eighteen inches; see NIV text note). No combination fits easily. No one would be tempted to think worrying could add eighteen inches to his stature (KJV), and a linear measure (eighteen inches) does not fit easily with “life.” This disparity accounts for the diversity of translations. Most likely, the linear measure is being used in a metaphorical sense (cf. RSV, “add one cubit to his span of life”), akin to “passing a milepost” at one’s birthday (cf. Betz, Sermon on the Mount, 475; Davies and Allison). Worry is more likely to shorten life than prolong it, and ultimately such matters are in God’s hands (cf. Lk 12:13–21). To trust him is enough.

NOTES

26 Τὰ πετεινὰ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ (ta pateina tou ouranou, lit., “the birds of the heaven”) is rightly rendered “birds of the air” (NIV) because “heaven” can refer to the atmosphere around us (cf. Ge 1:26; Mt 8:20; 13:32).

(b) Body and clothes (6:28–30)

28“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?”

COMMENTARY

28–30 “Lilies of the field” may be any of the wild flowers so abundant in Galilee, and these “flowers of the field” correspond to “birds of the air.” The point is a little different from the first illustration, where birds work but do not worry. The flowers neither toil nor spin (see Notes). The point is not that Jesus’ disciples may opt for laziness but that God’s providence and care are so rich that he clothes the grass with wild flowers that are neither productive nor enduring (v.30). Even Solomon, the richest and most extravagant of Israel’s monarchs, “in all his splendor” (v.29) was not arrayed like one of these fields. Small wonder that Jesus gently chastises his disciples as oligopistoi (“people of little faith,” GK 3899; cf. 8:26; 14:31; 16:8; and the abstract noun at 17:20). The root of anxiety is unbelief.

NOTES

28 On the nest of variants, see Metzger (Textual Commentary, 18) and the literature he cites, to which may be added K. Brunner, “Textkritisches zu Mt 6.28: ou xainousin statt auxanousin vorgeschlagen,” ZKT 100 (1978): 251–56.

30 The κλίβανος (klibanos, “oven,” GK 3106) was a pottery oven often fired by burning grass inside, the ashes falling through a hole and the flat cakes distributed both inside and on top. The term was used metaphorically to refer to the day of judgment as early as Hosea 7:4 LXX.

31“So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.”

COMMENTARY

31–32 In the light of God’s bountiful care (“So”), the questions posed in v.31 (cf. v.25) are unanswerable and the underlying attitudes are thoughtless and an affront to God, who knows the needs of his people (cf. v.8). Worse, they are essentially pagan (v.32), for pagans “run after” (epizētousin, a strengthened form of “seek”) these things, not God’s kingdom and righteousness (v.33). Jesus’ disciples must live lives qualitatively different from those of people who have no trust in God’s fatherly care and no fundamental goals beyond material things.

33“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”

COMMENTARY

33 In view of vv.31–32, this verse makes it clear that Jesus’ disciples are not simply to refrain from the pursuit of temporal things as their primary goal in order to differentiate themselves from pagans; instead, they are to replace such pursuits with goals of far greater significance. To seek first the kingdom (“of God” in some MSS) is to desire above all to enter into, submit to, and participate in spreading the news of the saving reign of God, the messianic kingdom already inaugurated by Jesus, and to live so as to store up treasures in heaven in the prospect of the kingdom’s consummation. It is to pursue the things already prayed for in the first three petitions of the Lord’s Prayer (vv.9–10).

To seek God’s righteousness is not, in this context, to seek justification (contra Filson, McNeile). “Righteousness” must be interpreted as in 5:6, 10, 20; 6:1. It is to pursue righteousness of life in full submission to the will of God, as prescribed by Jesus throughout this discourse (cf. Przybylski, Righteousness in Matthew, 89–91). Such righteousness will lead to persecution by some (5:10), but others will themselves become disciples and praise the Father in heaven (5:16). Such goals alone are worthy of one’s wholehearted allegiance. For any other concern to dominate one’s mind is to stoop to pagan fretting. “In the end, just as there are only two kinds of piety, the self-centered and the God-centered, so there are only two kinds of ambition: one can be ambitious either for oneself or for God. There is no third alternative” (Stott, Message of the Sermon on the Mount, 172). Within such a framework of commitment, Jesus’ disciples are assured that all the necessary things will be given to them by their heavenly Father (see

34“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

COMMENTARY

34 In view of God’s solemn promise to meet the needs of those committed to his kingdom and righteousness (v.33), “therefore” do not worry about tomorrow. Today has enough kakia (NIV, “trouble,” GK 2798; what is evil from man’s point of view, and once applied to crop damage caused by hail [MM]; frequently translates Heb. rāʿâ [“evil,” “misfortune,” “trouble,” GK 8288] in LXX: Ecc 7:14; 12:1; Am 3:6) of its own.

Worry over tomorrow’s misfortunes is nonsensical, because today has enough to occupy our attention and because tomorrow’s feared misfortunes may never happen (cf. b. Sanh. 100b; b. Ber. 9a). It is almost as if Jesus, aware that his disciples are still unsettled and immature, ends his argument by setting the highest ideals and motives aside for a moment and, in a whimsical sally, appeals to common sense. At the same time, he is implicitly teaching that, even for his disciples, today’s grace is sufficient only for today and should not be wasted on tomorrow. If tomorrow does bring new trouble, there will be new grace to meet it.

OVERVIEW

Many argue that these verses (1) have no connection with what precedes, (2) have little internal cohesion, and (3) probably find their original context in Luke 6:37–38, 41–42. Only the third assertion is believable.

1. The lack of Greek connectives at vv.1, 7 is not inherently problematic. Similar omissions (e.g., 6:19, 24) do not disturb the flow of thought so much as indicate a new “paragraph” or set off an aphorism. The connection with what precedes is internal. The demand for the superior righteousness of the kingdom, in fulfillment of the OT (5:17–20), has called forth warnings against hypocrisy (6:1–18) and the formulation of kingdom perspectives (6:19–34). But there are other dangers. Demands for perfection can breed judgmentalism (7:1–5), while demands for love can cause chronic shortage of discernment (v.6).

2. Thus the internal connection is in part established by dealing with opposing evils. But such great demands on Jesus’ followers must force them to recognize their personal inadequacy and so drive them to prayer (vv.7–11). The Golden Rule (v.12) summarizes the body of the sermon (5:17–7:12).

3. The relationship between 7:1–12 and Luke 6:37–38, 41–42 (part of Luke’s “sermon”) is difficult to assess. After his beatitudes and woes (Lk 6:20–26), Luke adds material (6:27–30) akin to Matthew 5:38–48. He then adds the Golden Rule (Lk 6:31), some material akin to Matthew 5, and then the parallel to Matthew 7:1–5. Thus he omits all of Matthew 6, while Matthew 7:1–5 omits part of what Luke keeps in Luke 6:37–42. One or both of the evangelists have rearranged the order of the material. Both make such good sense in their own context that it seems impossible to decide in favor of either. Though a saying as aphoristic as the Golden Rule may well have been repeated during the course of several days’ teaching, there is no sure way of demonstrating this was or was not the case.

1“Do not judge, or you too will be judged.”

COMMENTARY

1 The verb krinō (“judge,” GK 3212) has a wide semantic range: “judge” (judicially), “condemn,” “discern.” It cannot here refer to the law courts, any more than 5:33–37 forbids judicial oaths. Still less does this verse forbid all judging of any kind, for the moral distinctions drawn in the Sermon on the Mount require that decisive judgments be made. Jesus himself goes on to speak of some people as dogs and pigs (v.6) and to warn against false prophets (vv.15–20). Elsewhere he demands that people “make a right judgment” (Jn 7:24; cf. 1Co 5:5; Gal 1:8–9; Php 3:2; 1 Jn 4:1). All this presupposes that some kinds of judging are not only legitimate but mandated.

Jesus’ demand here is for his disciples not to be judgmental and censorious. The verb krinō has the same force in Romans 14:10–13 (cf. Jas 4:11–12). The rigor of the disciples’ commitment to God’s kingdom and the righteousness demanded of them do not authorize them to adopt a judgmental attitude. Those who “judge” like this will in turn be “judged,” not by men (which would be of little consequence) but by God (which fits the solemn tone of the discourse). The disciple who takes it on himself to be the judge of what another does usurps the place of God (Ro 14:10) and therefore becomes answerable to him. The hina mē (“in order that ... not”; NIV, “or”) should therefore be given full telic force: “Do not assume the place of God by deciding you have the right to stand in judgment over all—do not do it, I say, in order to avoid being called to account by the God whose place you usurp” (cf. b. Šabb. 127b; m. Soṭah 1:7; b. B. Meṣ. 59b).

2“For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

COMMENTARY

2 The strong play on words in Greek suggests that this is a proverbial saying. Formally it is very close to m. Soṭah 1:7, but the use made of it is in each case rather distinctive (cf. Dalman, Jesus-Jeshua, 223–24). Indeed, precisely because it is a proverb, Jesus himself elsewhere turns it to another use (cf. Mk 4:24). The point is akin to that already established (Mt 5:7; 6:12, 14–15): the judgmental person by not being forgiving and loving testifies to his own arrogance and impenitence, by which he shuts himself out from God’s forgiveness (cf. Manson, Sayings of Jesus, 56).

According to some rabbis, God has two “measures”—mercy and justice (Lev. Rab. 29.3). Possibly Jesus used this language, adapting it to his own ends. He who poses as a judge cannot plead ignorance of the law (Ro 2:1; cf. Jas 3:1); he who insists on unalloyed justice for others is scarcely open to mercy himself (Jas 2:13; 4:12). The problem returns in 18:23–35; here “the command to judge not is not a requirement to be blind but rather a plea to be generous. Jesus does not tell us to cease to be men (by suspending our critical powers which help to distinguish us from animals) but to renounce the presumptuous ambition to be God (by setting ourselves up as judges)” (Stott, Message of the Sermon on the Mount, 177, emphasis his).

3“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? 4How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? 5You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”

COMMENTARY

3–5 The karphos (“speck of sawdust,” GK 2847) could be any bit of foreign matter. The dokos (“plank” or “log,” GK 1512) is obviously colorful hyperbole. Jesus does not say it is wrong to help your brother (for “brother,” see

NOTES

4 The future πῶς ἐρεῖς (pōs ereis, lit., “How will you say”) is an instance in which, under Semitic influence, this tense is sometimes used modally to describe what may be (cf. Zerwick, Biblical Greek, para. 279). See Luke 6:42: πῶς δύνασαι λέγειν (pōs dynasai legein, “How can you say”).

6“Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and then turn and tear you to pieces.”

COMMENTARY

6 Though used later to exclude unbaptized persons from the Eucharist (Did. 9.5), that is not the purpose of this saying. Nor is it connected with the previous verses by dealing now with persons who, though properly confronted about their “specks,” refuse to deal with them, as in 18:12–20 (so Schlatter). Rather, it warns against the converse danger. Disciples exhorted to love their enemies (5:43–47) and not to judge (7:1) might fail to consider the subtleties of the argument and become undiscerning simpletons. This verse guards against such a possibility.

The “pigs” are not only unclean animals but wild and vicious, capable of savage action against a person. “Dogs” must not be thought of as household pets. In the Scriptures they are normally wild, associated with what is unclean, despised (e.g., 1Sa 17:43; 24:14; 1Ki 14:11; 21:19; 2Ki 8:13; Job 30:1; Pr 26:11; Ecc 9:4; Isa 66:3; Mt 15:27; Php 3:2; Rev 22:15). The two animals serve together as a picture of what is vicious, unclean, and abominable (cf. 2Pe 2:22). The four lines of v.6 are an ABBA chiasmus (cf. Turner, Syntax, 346–47). The pigs trample the pearls under foot (perhaps out of animal disappointment that they are not morsels of food), and the dogs are so disgusted with “what is sacred” that they turn on the giver.

The problem lies in to hagion (“what is sacred,” GK 41). How is this parallel to “pearls,” and what reality is envisaged to make the saying “work”?

1. Some suggest to hagion refers to “holy food” offered in connection with the temple services (cf. Ex 22:31; Lev 22:14; Jer 11:15; Hag 2:12). But this is a strange way to refer to it, and it is not obvious why the dogs would spurn it.

2. Another suggestion is that to hagion is a mistranslation of the Aramaic q^edaša (Heb. nezem, “ring,” GK 5690), referring to Proverbs 11:22 (cf. Black, Aramaic Approach, 200ff.). But appeals to mistranslation should not be the first line of approach; and here the parallelism of pearls and pigs, pearls obviously being mistaken for food, is destroyed.

3. P. G. Maxwell-Stuart (“‘Do not give what is holy to the dogs’ [Matthew 7:6],” ExpTim 90 [1978–79]: 341) offers a textual emendation.

4. However, it seems wiser to recognize that, as in 6:22–23, the interpretation of the metaphor is already hinted at in the metaphor itself. “What is sacred” in Matthew is the gospel of the kingdom. So the aphorism forbids proclaiming the gospel to certain persons designated as dogs and pigs. Instead of trampling the gospel under foot, everything must be “sold” in pursuit of it (13:45–46).

Verse 6 is not a directive against evangelizing the Gentiles, especially in a book full of various supports for this, not least 28:18–20 (10:5, properly understood, is no exception). “Dogs” and “pigs” cannot refer to all Gentiles but, as Calvin rightly perceived, only to persons of any race who have given clear evidences of rejecting the gospel with vicious scorn and hardened contempt. The disciples are later given a similar lesson (10:14; 15:14), and the postresurrection Christians learned it well (cf. Ac 13:44–51; 18:5–6; 28:17–28; Tit 3:10–11). So when taken together vv.1–5 and v.6 become something of a gospel analogue to the proverb “Do not rebuke a mocker or he will hate you; rebuke a wise man and he will love you” (Pr 9:8). “If genuine introspection does not occur, a disciple may blunder on the side of judgmental hypocrisy or naive gullibility” (Turner).

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