The MT is but one textual tradition that existed in antiquity, and it may be a witness to later readings than what the Septuagint reflects. This theory was corroborated when the Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS) were uncovered and analyzed because the textual tradition that lies beneath the LXX also exists within the scrolls of Qumran.1 It is not the case one-hundred percent of the time, obviously, but frequently when the LXX diverges from the MT, it has textual agreement within the DSS.

Since the Greek Old Testament was the “Bible” of the Early Church, Law also calls for a resurgence in Septuagint studies because this corpus had a direct influence on Christian theology and thought.2

In the first chapter of the book, Law establishes the aforementioned qualities that will be developed further as the book progresses. Law notes that this endeavor is important not only for the textual history of the Old Testament, but also for developments within the Early Church.

Law notes,

Students thus graduate from schools that teach Christian history and theology without ever considering that the scriptures used by the New Testament writers and the first Old Testament of the Church is not the Hebrew Bible they spent time and money to study (p. 3).

Though this statement is rather bold, this contention that Law raises highlights the importance of the Septuagint in both Old and New Testament studies—it is a subject often neglected, which in his estimation needs remedying.3

There are four reasons he provides for studying the LXX:

1. The LXX reveals the developing Jewish thought of the third century BC to the first AD

2. The Bible used by the New Testament authors was predominately the Greek translation

3. The theology of the New Testament authors was influenced by the LXX

4. The Greek Old Testament at times contains passages that reflect different meanings from the Hebrew Bible, which potentially indicates that there was an “alternative, sometimes older, form of the Hebrew Text” (p. 6)

Law in chapter two conducts a cursory exploration of Israel’s history from the fall of Judah in 587/6 BC by Nebuchadnezzar to Cyrus and his allowance of the Jews to rebuild the Temple to the conquest of Alexander the Great. The importance of focusing on Cyrus entails an establishment of the Law (Torah)—dating at the earliest the end of the 5c. or the beginning of the 4c.

The second half of the chapter discusses the spread of Hellenism after Alexander the Great and its influence on Judaism. Hellenism was adopted differently by various Jewish groups, but overall the Greek influence in this period is undeniable.

Chapter three attempts to illustrate the uncertainty of the current Hebrew text that is used for studying the OT. Law begins the discussion stating that Jesus and Paul did not have a “bible” in the modern sense of the term because there was no set “canon.” Law proceeds to detail the manuscripts that we possess (MT, Aleppo, LXX, DSS), which illustrate the various Scriptural traditions.

He contends,

Perhaps most importantly, we must recognize that the Hebrew Bible editions in our hands today, those based on the medieval Masoretic Text, do not represent the “original text” of the Bible (p. 23).

Much of this chapter calls into question the antiquity and reliability of the MT, and Law wishes to show that the Septuagint—and DSS—may reflect in some places an older and more reliable text of the Hebrew Bible.

“The First Bible Translators”—chapter four—explores the initial attempt to produce a Greek translation of the Torah. The first half of the chapter explains ancient translations of texts and the difficulty of translating from one language to another.

The second portion specifically analyzes the Letter of Aristeas and its relation to the first translation of the OT. Law believes that the Torah was most likely first translated in Alexandria around the late third, early second century BC.

Finally, the chapter closes discussing why people chose to translate the Hebrew Bible into Greek. He concludes that it is uncertain why this literary accomplishment occurred, but it could simply be that the translators sought to render their sacred texts into the lingua franca.

The following two chapters (five and six) examine the translation styles exhibited in the canonical and Deutero-canonical books.4 Law states,

The various translations, however, were produced in a period of textual plurality, so we should expect the Septuagint to be a repository of textual artifacts that were otherwise lost once the Hebrew Bible was formed and all variety extinguished (p. 43).

Alongside the translation methodology, Law explores the textual traditions that lie within the LXX that are different from those present in the MT. As for the “Apocryphal” texts,—the Deuterocanon—Law discusses the Hebrew originals that may lie behind some of the documents and a general description of each book.

In chapter seven, Law charts the Hebrew textual history, as well as that of the Greek Bible, to demonstrate that there was a convergence of streams into one tradition. This version of the Bible then became the dominant trend used as time progressed. This arose in the Greek tradition, which Law explores.

The development is revealed in a number of manuscripts, which illustrates that some Jews wished to re-translate the Hebrew into Greek so that it reflected the Hebrew more literally—the three revisions we have come from Aquila, Symmachus, and Theodotion.5 The canon of Hebrew Scriptures was not in existence until later, but,

It is in this context that the canon of the Hebrew Bible was fixed and closed: no longer would variant literary editions of biblical texts like those found in the Septuagint and in the Dead Sea Scrolls circulate widely, and neither would any more books be added to the twenty-four (p. 83).

Chapters eight and nine are the final two that dwell on the first century prior to discussing the Septuagint in the early church. In chapter nine, Law displays that the textual tradition employed by the New Testament authors is predominately the LXX. Thus, he claims, the theology of the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible heavily affected the thought of these early Christian writers.

He states,

The importance of the New Testament authors’ use of the Greek instead of the Hebrew cannot be overstated, and this is especially true when they preserve vestiges of the textual plurality in ways that work to their advantage (p. 86).

Based upon this, the LXX was paramount for many theological and Christological developments that occurred in the first century. Chapter nine dovetails this discussion through an exploration of a number of texts in the NT that illustrate these points.

In chapters ten and eleven, Law explores the emergence of the Old Testament as canon. This chapter explains the difference between “Scripture” and “canon” and how the Old Testament came to be what it is today.6 This ultimately leads to the canon lists of the early church ranging from Melito of Sardis to Athanasius and what role the Deuterocanonical books played in this process.

Chapter eleven then divulges how the LXX served as the Old Testament for the Church, which persisted into other language traditions whose translations were based upon the Greek. Lastly, Law examines how these texts were used in the Church to shape her theology, such as the debate against Arius in AD325.

The next two chapters then examine the decline of the LXX in the Western Church from the perspective of four prominent figures in the early centuries. Law begins with Origen in order to display the genius of his Hexapla, whose fifth column became the dominant version used in the Church.

This is a more convoluted discussion than what can be provided in a book review. But simply, the first column contained the Hebrew text (quite similar to the MT today), the second was a Greek transliteration of the Hebrew, the third is the revision of Aquila, then Symmachus (the fourth), the fifth is the Septuagint, and the final is the revision of Theodotion. The fifth column is so important because it contained notations that indicated when the LXX differed from the Hebrew.

Law has a brief discussion on Eusebius because of his role in the transmission of the LXX—he chronicled the life of Constantine, and he was involved with a translation tradition. Constantine is also paramount for this development because he commissioned the copying of bibles to be spread throughout the world, which contained Origen’s fifth column.

Chapter thirteen concludes this discussion by tracing the debates between Jerome and Augustine as to which language should be preferred for reading the OT. Ultimately, the Church of the west preserved Jerome’s preference for the Hebrew.

Law concludes his book in chapter fourteen with a re-cap of what he has discussed throughout. Law states,

Rarely has the Septuagint been read on its own terms or appreciated as a witness to an alternative Hebrew text, to the diversity of scriptural texts before the Common Era (p. 168).

He continues this discussion by asserting that too often graduate institutions favor the Hebrew over the Greek, and the LXX is perceived as “ancillary.” Finally, he leaves the topic open for debate because he believes that the Septuagint should be reassessed and studied further due to its formative impact on the Church.

My assessment of the book is quite positive, and Law’s assessment has been rather influential in how I approach the LXX. Though I believe Law at times is a bit bold in a number of his claims, I think the corrective he propounds is necessary.

The evidence he supplies is provocative, and scholars along with the laity must contend with these claims. The varying textual traditions are compelling reasons for at least analyzing the LXX on its own terms and accept the possibility that the text holds a more ancient version of the OT.

More importantly for the Church, Law makes an astute observation concerning the impact the Greek translation had on the New Testament, the developing Church in the 2c., and the Church of the following centuries. These texts today still have sway within the Orthodox (Byzantine) communities, and much of the church’s theology is contingent on developments that occurred within the Greek translation.

A point of contention I have with When God Spoke Greek is that Law almost over emphasizes his point. Though I do not believe that Law means to replace the study of the Hebrew in the Church, it almost feels like the Septuagint should have an equal status with the MT.

Though I am not in full disagreement with respect to New Testament studies, the MT is a critical textual tradition that should still be preserved and studied—obviously. Since the textual tradition found within the LXX is corroborated by the DSS, it does show that the Greek Old Testament should be studied in more detail than what is currently the case. This is especially true for New Testament studies since the theology, language, and text was heavily impacted by the Septuagint.

Overall, Law provides us with an excellent overview of the Septuagint and its development within Judaism and Christianity. Even if one disagrees with his assessment, the book displays a concise and clear overview of the Greek OT. When God Spoke Greek outlines the Septuagint’s history and even gives a short synopsis of each section of the LXX, which includes style, translation methodology, and general content.

In the final pages of the book, Law provides twelve pages of further readings that will help the reader who is unfamiliar with the LXX to explore in more detail those areas that piqued their interest. The book is thought-provoking and has left the door open for further developments in the fields of Septuagint studies, Old Testament, and New Testament scholarship.

If you have enjoyed this brief overview of T. Michael Law’s When God Spoke Greek and wish to read more about the New Testament and the world in which it was composed, would you kindly subscribe?

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There will always be the absurd claim that the Orthodox and Catholics worship Mary, make idols of her, etc., but I wanted to address some foundational texts in order to show how the Church has spoken about the most important human in Salvation History.

Hopefully these exegetical explorations will clear up some of these unfounded assertions slandering the Church.

This initial post will start with an exceptionally important Christological title for Mary: Mother of God (the orthodox title in Greek, Theotokos, “God-bearer”). This honorific became dogmatically orthodox at the Council of Ephesus, AD 431,

This was the sentiment of the holy Fathers; therefore they ventured to call the Holy Virgin, the Mother of God (Theotokos, lit. “God-bearer”), not as if the nature of the Word or his divinity had its beginning from the Holy Virgin, but because of her was born that holy body with a rational soul, to which the Word being personally united is said to be born according to the flesh. (Session 1, The Epistle of Cyril to Nestorius (Intelligo quosdam meae)

“God-bearer” (theotokos) is commonly translated into English as “Mother of God” because one who bears and births a child becomes a mother, so it is most natural to understand the two terms as synonymous.

That said, the term Theotokos never shows up in Scripture, nor does the title “Mother of God.” Or, does it? To require the precise phraseology in Scripture is simply a word-concept fallacy—identical lexemes are not required to convey a thought or idea.

The phrase, μήτηρ θεοῦ (mētēr theou), may not be found in Scripture, but I will show that the germ of this thought—if not the identical meaning—resides in Luke’s Gospel. Paul Bradshaw and Maxwell Johnson, The Origins of Feasts, Fasts, and Seasons in Early Christianity 198 comment,

Further, even the term Theotokos seems now to have been used earlier and rather more widely than many have assumed previously. Some modern biblical scholars, in fact, would push the evidence for the idea, if not the title, back into the New Testament infancy narratives, where, at least, Elizabeth’s designation of Mary as “Mother of my Lord” (Luke 1.43) may well mean “Mother of Yahweh”!1

My article will attempt to illustrate how precisely Luke 1:43 can reflect this idea. I will demonstrate what Luke most probably intended through an examination of how “Lord” (kurios) was used in the Old Testament and Early Jewish literature to reflect God, as well as note the parallels with the Davidic monarchy.

Translation of Luke 1:41b–43

|41b| And Elizabeth was filled (ἐπλήσθη) with the Holy Spirit,2 |42| and she cried out with a great shout (κραυγῇ μεγάλῃ)3 and said,

“You have been blessed (εὐλογημένη) among women,
and the fruit of your womb has been blessed (εὐλογημένος).4

|43| “And how5 is this happening6 to me, that the Mother of my Lord (ἡ μήτηρ τοῦ κυρίου μου) approaches me?”7

Kurios in Early Jewish Literature

In order to situate what Luke meant by having Elizabeth call Mary the “mother of my Lord,” we must examine why this is significant. The key word in the phrase is Lord, which in Greek is kurios (κύριος).8

I will discuss the Septuagint (LXX) first, showing translational trends for expressing the Divine Name—YHWH—and a few other words that are important for understanding God in the OT.

The Deuterocanonical (DC) books will be assessed separately because these works were composed later and in Greek—or, they are preserved in Greek.9 As such, this is not only a witness for translational habits. Rather, these works will demonstrate how the Divine (Name) was used in Greek originals, most probably dependent on how the translators rendered God from the OT. If these authors were Hellenistic Jews, it is unlikely that the majority would be familiar with the Hebrew underlying their Greek Scriptures. As such, they would have adopted the verbiage present in translation.10

Lastly, I will explore examples from the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (OTP) to illustrate further how Jews were rendering the Divine name up until the 1c. and beyond.11 As I said above about the DC authors, so I assume for the Hellenistic Jews composing these documents.

This lexical examination will lay the foundation for discussing what Luke intended by using kurios in 1:43.

The Septuagint

The LXX was influential in the composition of the NT. Many trends and ideas are encapsulated in the translation of these foundational texts, and the words these unknown translators employed had significant ramifications. The art of translating impacts how readers understand the original text that lurks underneath.

The translation of the Hebrew Scriptures was a crucial development for Hellenistic Judaism because these Greek documents gained a status of authority. For instance, the Letter of Aristeas presents the original translation as a miraculous and praiseworthy endeavor,

The outcome was such that in seventy-two days the business of translation was completed, just as if such a result was achieved by some deliberate design. When it was completed, Demetrius assembled the company of the Jews in the place where the task of the translation had been finished, and read it to all, in the presence of the translators, who received a great ovation from the crowded audience for being responsible for great blessings (307–308; transl. Shutt in Charlesworth OTP)

In defense of the Law, Philo, too, speaks of the Greek translation, and how it perfectly reflects what is in the Hebrew,

But this, they say, did not happen at all in the case of this translation of the law, but that, in every case, exactly corresponding Greek words were employed to translate literally the appropriate Chaldaic words, being adapted with exceeding propriety to the matters which were to be explained…

…considering these translators not mere interpreters but hierophants and prophets to whom it had been granted it their honest and guileless minds to go along with the most pure spirit of Moses. (On the Life of Moses 2.38, 39; transl. C. Yonge, The Works of Philo, 494)

Philo is obviously wrong in this statement because there are changes, alterations, and significant differences. But, the LXX was foundational for Hellenistic Jews like Philo because Hebrew concepts underwent a transformation when conveyed through an Indo-European language. It brought the Hebrew Bible to diaspora Jews who no longer knew Hebrew (or Aramaic).

The importance of the Greek translations cannot be overstated for understanding evolutions in Hellenistic Jewish thought. In turn, the expression of the Divine Name is certainly one of the most critical developments in Early Judaism and Christianity alike. There are numerous ways in which God revealed himself and his name in the Hebrew Bible, and it is critical to understand how the LXX translators rendered these expressions.

For the NT, this corpus is of particular importance. J. Dines notes,

It is clear that for all NT authors the Greek texts constitute authentic and authoritative Scripture, and that for most of them they are their only source… There are far-reaching implications to the realization that foundational Christian experience was articulated mainly in terms of the Greek biblical texts, and not directly the Hebrew ones. It is still normal to approach key theological ideas, such as covenant and redemption, by analysing the use of such terms in the MT. But it would be methodologically preferable to begin by examining the LXX and writings depending on it. (The Septuagint, 142-143).12

There are thousands of instances of the Divine Name,—YHWH—God, Lord, the Most High, All-Powerful, etc. in the OT. To examine each instance of kurios alone would be voluminous, and it would be rather unnecessary for this examination.

I have selected a number of occurrences that I believe are most important for our study. God’s revealed name, YHWH, is the main focus of this analysis.

Nota Bene: The Hebrew and Greek are both present within parentheticals throughout this article. I have transliterated the Hebrew, but know I have not supplied the vowel pointing, and all yods and waws are represented by a “y” and “w” respectively, regardless if they serve as a vowel or consonant.

The revelation of the Divine Name narratively derives from Exodus 3, but it is worth noting that “YHWH” occurs repeatedly before it is revealed to Moses, e.g., Gen 24:26–27 in the chart.13

In Exod 3:14–15, there are three elements employed to depict the Divine Name:

1. I AM (Ἐγώ εἰμι, ego eimi)

2. The one who is (ὁ ὤν, ho ōn, an articular participle of εἰμι, eimi)

3. Lord [YHWH] (Κύριος, kurios)

The first two come in v. 14,

God said to Moses, “I am who I am” (‘hyh ‘šr ‘hyh, Ἐγώ εἰμι ὁ ὤν [excessively literal: “I am the being”]).

The third is in v. 15,

God also said to Moses, “Say this to the people of Israel, ‘The Lord (YHWH, Κύριος)…”

There is also a fourth, “God,”—θεὸς, theos—which is used when God is narratively said to be speaking to Moses. Additionally, theos is accompanied with generational relationships: Abraham, Isaac, etc.

As a side note, Christian iconography adopted the name, “The One Who Is,” which is represented in a unique halo for Christ:

We will not explore the usage of “I Am” in this article, for I will be composing a piece on Jesus walking on water in Mark, which makes use of this potentially. I reserve the conversation for there.

But, as for this passage in particular, it is critical to understand that kurios became the standard way of reflecting the Divine Name—YHWH. If you examine the chart provided above, it is consistently used for this name .

This might become confusing at times, though, because kurios is not used exclusively for God’s name. The word simply means “lord” or “master,” and it is employed to describe humans, too. Consider Genesis 24:26–27,

|26| The man bowed his head and worshiped the Lord, |27| and said, “Blessed be the Lord, the God of my [lord] Abraham, who has not forsaken his steadfast love and his faithfulness toward my [lord]. As for me, the Lord has led me in the way to the house of my [lord’s] kinsmen.”

I have altered the RSV of the Hebrew to reflect what is happening in the Greek. Below, I have provided a visual aid to understand what is happening in the Hebrew and Greek.

In the Masoretic Text (MT, the Hebrew), there are distinct lexemes in use: YHWH and “lord” (‘dn). In the LXX, it is the same word: kurios. The Green highlighting corresponds to YHWH/Kurios, and the pink lines show adonai/kurios.

The blue highlighting is for God, and the yellow lines are for words of blessing/worship.

In this example, we have a text discussing God and Abraham using the exact same word, kurios. Is it confusing? Certainly not. But, this example is to illustrate that kurios itself is not enough to signify the Divine Name in the LXX.

Patriarchs are not the only figures who received this title; it was an honorific used for priests. For instance, Eli is called kurios in 1 Samuel,

And she said, “Oh, my lord (‘dny)! As you live, my lord (‘dny), I am the woman who was standing here in your presence, praying to the Lord (YHWH). (1:26)

The phrase “my lord the king” is frequently employed for addressing royalty,

|36| And Benai′ah the son of Jehoi′ada answered the king, “Amen! May the Lord (YHWH; κύριος), the God (‘lhy; ὁ θεὸς) of my lord the king (‘dny hmlk; τοῦ κυρίου μου τοῦ βασιλέως), say so. |37| As the Lord (YHWH; κύριος) has been with my lord the king (‘dny hmlk; τοῦ κυρίου μου τοῦ βασιλέως), even so may he be with Solomon, and make his throne greater than the throne of my lord King (‘dny hmlk; τοῦ κυρίου μου τοῦ βασιλέως) David.” (1 Kings 1:36=3 Kingdoms 1:36 LXX)

This title is used most often in 2 Samuel, but this phrase appears 55 times,14 describing even foreign kings, e.g. Dan 1:10. From these examples, there is no lexical shift in the Septuagint to denote the Divine Name as opposed to a “lord” or “master.”

As you can imagine, if you are a Hellenistic Jew unfamiliar with the Hebrew, this could easily be confusing. Not necessarily in this case, but a quotation out of context could potentially become ambiguous. At the very least, the Hellenistic reader would not be able to say with certainty when the underlying Hebrew had YHWH or ‘dn.

An English example might help illustrate this. Take for instance the use of “rite" in the Catholic Church. There are Sacramental rites—e.g., of institution—and liturgical rites (e.g., Byzantine or Latin). There is one lexeme to express two different concepts. If you were to read the sentence, "What are the rites of the Catholic Church?” you would not know if the person is inquiring about the Sacraments or liturgical expressions without context or further explanation.

Many of the other instances of kurios in the chart illustrate the frequency of “I am YHWH their God” (Lev 26:44–45; Deut 5:9; Joel 2:27; Isa 48:17). In Hebrew, it is not at all ambiguous because it is a statement of divine personage—stating a revealed name—with an ontological category: “I am YHWH (name), their God (ontology).” This would be similar to saying “I am Brosephos (name), your author (ontology).” Additionally, the usage of separate lexemes to distinguish between the name (YHWH) and status (lord) is critical—it eliminates ambiguity. And, there are times when YHWH is called lord (‘dn, e.g., Ps 8:2, “O YHWH, our lord” [Gk: “O Lord, our lord”]).

But, in translation, this is less explicit. The statement could be understood as two states of ontology: “I am the Lord, your God” or “I am your Master, your God.” It is less clear that “Lord” here is a divine name.

Yes, Jews would be familiar with the Divine Name, but the repeated usage of Kurios rather than a distinct lexeme could very well morph into sloppy representation outside of translation.

We will explore this more in Greek originals below in order to illustrate that this construction became a statement of title rather than a name of identification exclusively. And, to preview the NT, this ambiguity was manipulated and developed in order to incorporate Jesus into the Divine Identity.

One final remark, it is interesting that Isa 48:17 is anomalous. The Greek dropped kurios, and the translator has only “I am your God.” Is this an error? Did his Hebrew not have YHWH? Did the translator believe theos was sufficient for conveying the thought? It is all speculation when contemplating the motivation and results.15

The Deuterocanonical Books

Before we explore non-canonical Greek originals, we will examine some of the Deuterocanonical Books. There are debates on whether some books were originally composed in a semitic language, but there is general consensus that the Wisdom of Solomon and 2 Maccabees are Greek texts. Sirach and 1 Maccabees are most probably semitic originals, which Sirach even states in the prologue,

It seemed highly necessary that I should myself devote some pains and labor to the translation of the following book, using in that period of time great watchfulness and skill in order to complete and publish the book for those living abroad who wished to gain learning, being prepared in character to live according to the law.

As such, the following examples will be assessed with these complications in mind, but ultimately the Greek of these documents is critical for evaluating how later authors were representing the Divine Name.

From even a cursory examination of this limited data—there is much more evidence—the use of kurios is intended to be God. Now, can we determine with absolute certainty that the Divine Name is intended? Not entirely, but the way in which kurios is implemented, it has striking similarities to what we observed in the LXX.

I will begin with a more certain instance. Compare Sir 51:10 to what we have preserved in the Hebrew,

I appealed to the Lord (κύριον), the Father of my lord,/ not to forsake me in the days of affliction… (LXX)

Here we have a instance of the LXX employing kurios for YHWH, assuming what is contained in the Cairo Genizah Collection is correct.

That said, the text contained in 51:1 is rather different. So, do we have a difference in translation methodology or a textual variant?

Since the text reads so differently, it seems more probable that this is a variant text rather than a translation choice. Regardless, from Sir 51:10, we at least have some certainty that kurios was employed to convey the divine name.

And, regardless of what the Hebrew contains, the translator chose to represent God with kurios.

As for a Greek original, Bel and the Dragon joins together both kurios and theos, which we saw in the LXX (Lev 26:45; Deut 5:9; Joel 2:27; Ezek 39:22). The concept behind this usage is most likely YHWH if we consider the pattern from the translation of the Hebrew into the Greek.

Our final example will be Tobit 4:5,

Remember the Lord our God (κυρίου τοῦ θεοῦ ἡμῶν) all your days…

Based on what we saw in Sirach, we might expect the same. We do possess fragmentary evidence of semitic documents of Tobit. When comparing the fragments from Qumran (the Dead Sea Scrolls), our Greek may not be accurately reflecting what is present in the original.

4Q200 frag 2.3 reads,

3 […] Blank And all your days /my son/ [re]member God […]
(transl. F. Martı́nez & J. Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls Sudy Edition, 397)

Again, this problematizes the situation in part. Is the original Aramaic/Hebrew God or YHWH? This is impossible to determine, but the evidence in the fragmentary remains does not help further the idea that the name YHWH was employed.

In 4Q200 frag 6.9, the text uses both ‘adonai and ‘elohim,

9 [and exalt him before eve]ry living creature, for he is yo[ur] Lord (‘d/w/nyk[mh]), and he is [your] Go[d …] (‘lh[ykmh])
(transl. F. Martı́nez & E. Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition (translations), 399.

This does not determine if the Divine Name is absent from the Hebrew or Aramaic versions of Tobit. Again, our evidence from the DSS is so incredibly fragmentary, there is not enough data to make an assessment. What we can say, though, is that the Greek version of Tobit contains kurios to represent God.

Further complicating this dilemma, Sirach 2:1 has kurios with a textual variant, theos.

Thus, it is impossible to decide what the Hebrew may have contained based on the Greek translations alone because both of these options are available. Was the original YHWH or ‘elhm (or, less likely, ‘dn)?

The Hebrew we have, though, reads YHWH,

In this instance, we possess a Hebrew text that in all likelihood confirms the original contained the Divine Name. We are not always so fortunate to have this clarity. And, it is impossible for us to know with certainty what the Greek translator possessed.

As such, when we are evaluating these translations, it is speculation and probability that drive what we believe may be lying underneath. This does not account for textual variants and translational decisions that may impact what we now possess.

The main purpose for exploring this maddening topic is to demonstrate how inconsistent and varied the transmission of these texts have been. I have explored trends and label it as such to underscore that there are significant permutations that exist in the history of ancient documents.

Be that as it may, I have shown that kurios is a common and stable representation of the Divine Name in the Deuterocanonical books. Even though we may have instances of theos being a possibility in the case of Sirach, it should be noted that it is a variant in the recensional material.

And, regardless, if kurios happens to be used both for the Divine Name or the more generic theos, both words indicate God. And, this would mean that the all-powerful creator of the universe was still intended by the implementation of kurios.

The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha

We possess a similar dilemma when it comes to the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (OTP). Some of these texts are Greek originals, some are not but we only have a Greek translation. Other texts may be a Greek or Hebrew/Aramaic original, but it is preserved only in Ge’ez, etc. These texts and their manuscript histories are varied, and it leads to much speculation.

There are many assumptions and guesses that must be made with this corpus just like when guessing about the LXX. That said, we will evaluate what we have in Greek to try and demonstrate how kurios was used in this corpus.

These examples I have selected illustrate how easy it is to read kurios and think YHWH. In each instance, we have a parallel in the LXX to show that these Greek originals are dependent on the translation decisions to reflect the underlying Hebrew.

1 Enoch 22.14, though, may well have ‘dn (master) in mind because—since YHWH is a name—“YHWH of glory/righteousness” does seem nonsensical.

In the Prayer of Manassa, the appeal to kurios followed by “God of [insert Patriarch]” is parallel to what we saw in Exodus 3.

The Testament of Solomon, The Life of Adam and Eve, and Psalms of Solomon all contain the kurios theos pattern we witnessed previously in the OT, which certainly indicates a reliance on this formulation. As such, I believe it is safe to assume that this phraseology is reliant on the concept of “YHWH our God” (e.g., Lev 26:45; Deut 5:9; Joel 2:27; Ezek 39:22, 29; Isa 48:17). Not all of which are identical, but they each pair YHWH (kurios) and ‘lhm (theos).

From this brief examination, I have demonstrated that kurios is a consistent and stable representation of the Divine name through Early Judaism, both in translation and original compositions. It is difficult to deny that this lexeme would be significant for the NT authors.

We will now explore the Gospel of Luke in particular, but we will also examine some other NT texts that may help shed light on how kurios is functioning in Luke 1:43.

Kurios in Luke-Acts

There are far too many occurrences of kurios to explore individually in this article, so I will limit myself to speaking about them broadly, offering a few examples. I comment on each instance in chapter 1, though, because I believe it establishes a pattern and foundation for explicating 1:43.

That said, there are seemingly three main usages in the Gospel.

1. God

   1. And when the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him (Jesus) up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (κυρίῳ). (2:22)

   2. Variant (YHWH in Scripture): saying, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord (κυρίου; Heb. YHWH)! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” (19:38, quoting/adapting Ps 118:26)

2. Jesus as Lord (Davidic? God?)

   1. And when his disciples James and John saw it, they said, “Lord (κύριε), do you want us to bid fire come down from heaven and consume them?” (9:54)—A divine action? (E.g., Gen 19:24; Lev 10:1–2; Num 11:1–3; 1 Kings 18:38 [Elijah])

   2. …who said, “The Lord (κύριος) has risen indeed, and has appeared to Simon!” (24:34)

   3. So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord (κύριε), will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6)

   4. “…Let all the house of Israel therefore know assuredly that God has made him both Lord (κύριον) and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.” (Acts 2:36)

3. Master (parable, RSV translates to make the distinction [Lord vs. master])

   1. And the Lord (κύριος) said, “Who then is the faithful and wise steward, whom his master (κύριος) will set over his household, to give them their portion of food at the proper time?…” (12:42)

   2. Permutation (Sir): And he answered him, “Let it alone, sir (κύριε), this year also, till I dig about it and put on manure.” (13:8)

A compelling narrative of an ambiguous occurrence of kurios—God or Jesus?—happens at Paul’s conversion in Acts 9.16

When Jesus “appears” and speaks to Saul/Paul, he does so just as God did at the baptism of Christ and the Transfiguration—a Voice.

|4| And he fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” |5| And he said, “Who are you, Lord (κύριε)?”17 And he said, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting…” (9:4–5; cp Luke 3:22 and 9:35)

The Voice is specifically identified as Christ.

But later when Ananias is commanded to minister to Paul, the text remains ambiguous from the start. It appears to be a shift to God; Luke never designates who is speaking specifically:

|10| Now there was a disciple at Damascus named Anani′as. The Lord (ὁ κύριος) said to him in a vision, “Anani′as.” And he said, “Here I am, Lord (κύριε).” |11| And the Lord (ὁ δὲ κύριος) said to him, “Rise and go to the street called Straight, and inquire in the house of Judas for a man of Tarsus named Saul; for behold, he is praying… (9:10–11)

It is not until Ananias approaches Paul is it made clear that Jesus is the one who appeared in the dream,

And laying his hands on him he said, “Brother Saul, [the Lord (ὁ κύριος) sent me, Jesus the one who appeared] to you on the road by which you came, that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” (9:17)

I have altered the RSV here slightly in brackets. The RSV reads, “the Lord Jesus who appeared…” which betrays the grammar/syntax marginally.

Even here, with how the sentence is constructed, Luke leaves the ambiguity of kurios present for as long as he is able. It is not “the Lord Jesus,” as if kurios and Jesus are located side-by-side or that kurios is used as a title for Christ. Rather, Luke has Ananias say, “The Lord sent me,” and then clarifies with an appositive, “Jesus, the one who appeared to you.”

Σαοὺλ ἀδελφέ, ὁ κύριος ἀπέσταλκέν με, Ἰησοῦς ὁ ὀφθείς σοι ἐν τῇ ὁδῷ ᾗ ἤρχου

I begin here in Luke-Acts intentionally to establish the wordplay present in the narrative. I contend Luke—and other NT authors—deliberately established his Christology not only with images, typologies, and narratives but also with his grammar and syntax. This is not a mistake. The delay of mentioning Jesus is intended to preserve the obscurity as long as possible in this particular pericope.

It is most natural to read Ananias’s dream as God speaking to him.

This feature must be understood in order to situate what is occurring in Luke 1:43. The narrative is left intentionally vague. Afterall, this is a driving question in all the Gospels: Who is Jesus? What does it mean that he is the Christ? Who and what is he as kurios, the Lord?

These authors also want to preserve the Oneness of God while simultaneously incorporating Jesus into the Divine Identity.

A simple example of this manipulation of kurios to make a Christological claim can be found in Mark 5 after the healing of the Garasene Demoniac,

|19| But he refused, and said to him, “Go home to your friends, and tell them how much the Lord (kurios) has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.” |20| And he went away and began to proclaim in the Decap′olis how much Jesus had done for him; and all men marveled.

Notice the simple narrative move that is made. Jesus tells the man to tell what the Kurios (God) has done for him, yet he goes and tells what Jesus had done. This is a potentially tacit claim in Mark.18

Now the foundation has been laid, I will now build upon this to show that Luke 1:43 has a conflated meaning with the implementation of kurios. The usage is multivalent since the Third Evangelist intended for chapter one to establish numerous theological and Christological points.

My argument concerns analyzing how kurios functions in chapter 1. This will entail an analysis of how kurios mou (“my Lord”) is applicable for God. This discussion will develop how this implementation establishes deeper Christological ideas by also exploring parallel instances in other NT literature.

Luke 1 and the usage of Lord

In chapter 1, there are 17 instances of kurios, and each occurrence refers to God (Heb. YHWH), with similar formulations that we have seen in the examples above.

I may have over-stated my position a bit in the opening of this section, but I will clarify with another image to demonstrate what I mean.

It is most natural to read nearly every instance of kurios in chapter 1 as YHWH from the examples we explored above in the OT, DC, and OTP. My initial remark may be a bit bold, but I will go over each now briefly to add clarity.19

The commandments and ordinances of the Lord (1:6) needs no further exploration. It is abundantly obvious that God is intended rather than Christ. Jesus has yet to be born; he has yet to be announced to Mary. But, to be thorough, consider Deut 4:2,

You shall not add to the word which I command you, nor take from it; that you may keep the commandments of the Lord your God (mtswt YHWH ‘lhykm; τὰς ἐντολὰς κυρίου τοῦ θεοῦ ὑμῶν) which I command you.

As for the temple of the Lord (1:9), we saw this phrase in Judith 4:2, and the expression is not unique to the DC, for example 1 Chronicles 29:7–8,

|7| They gave for the service of the house of God (byt-h’lhym; οἴκου κυρίου)... |8| And whoever had precious stones gave them to the treasury of the house of the Lord (byt-YHWH; οἴκου κυρίου).

Here, the LXX does not distinguish between “God” and “YHWH,” employing kurios for both. Naturally, this usage in Luke 1 intends God—YHWH. One should not quibble over the difference of house/temple; both clearly are referencing the same concept.20

The angel of the Lord (1:11) is a common phrase employed in the OT, too, so this needs little exploration. But, consider Judges 2:1,

Now the angel of the Lord (mlak-YHWH; ἄγγελος κυρίου) went up from Gilgal to Bochim…

1:15 intends a vow to God, as is explained; so Jesus cannot be in mind. 1:16’s usage of “Lord their God” has been discussed previously as a commonly occurring phrase (e.g., Lev 26:44–45; Deut 5:9; Joel 2:27; Isa 48:17).

Now, 1:17 is our first instance of potential ambiguity. This anticipates 1:76 and 3:1–6, so I will leave this note unresolved until we come to the later portion of this section.

1:25 and 28 must mean the Lord God because it would otherwise be nonsensical.

1:32 repeats “Lord God” in the second portion of the verse, which we have already explored, but the first half identifies Jesus as “son of the Most High.” The “Most High” is another divine appellation.

Son of “God” paired with the throne of David has clear and apparent messianic overtones (cp. 1 Kings 1:36 above), which could point to the usage of kurios in the Gospel to mean Jesus is a Davidic King, as we explored with “my lord the king” previously. That said, I believe kurios can be used as a both-and, as I will explain further.

Meanwhile, 1:38 offers another instance of YHWH, for Jesus would be nonsensical.

1:43 is the object of this discussion, and I concede there is ambiguity of who and what is intended here with kurios. Ultimately, I am making the claim that it is both a high Christological claim, tacitly asserting that Jesus is God, while simultaneously evoking the Davidic and Messianic expectation of the “son of the Most High.”21 We must explore the final example here to make this explicit.

The remaining occurrences of kurios in Luke 1 sans v. 76 must mean God. They otherwise do not make any sense if read to be Jesus, for they are appealing to what God has done. As for 1:76, there is great ambiguity here.

In the prophetic proclamation by Zechariah in 1:68–79, who is the kurios of v. 76—is this Jesus or God, or could it indicate both? This prophesy is an allusion to Isa 40:3,

A voice cries: “In the wilderness prepare (ἑτοιμάσατε) the way of the Lord (drk YHWH, τὴν ὁδὸν κυρίου), Make straight in the desert a highway for our God (l’lhynw, τοῦ θεοῦ ἡμῶν).

I want to underscore that this passage is clearly about God and is not messianic. This is explicit in vv. 9–10,22

|9| …say to the cities of Judah,
“Behold your God (‘lhykm; ὁ θεὸς ὑμῶν)!”

|10| Behold, the [lord YHWH]23 (‘dny YHWH; κύριος) comes with might,
and his arm rules for him…

This is not anticipatory of a figure who will save and redeem Judah. It is God—YHWH—who is the subject of this passage. It is God who comes and rules, not a messianic figure. This must be kept in mind for what we are about to explore.

Compare with Luke 1:76,

…for you will go before the Lord (κυρίου) to prepare his ways (ἑτοιμάσαι ὁδοὺς αὐτοῦ).

And, the angel of the Lord spoke similarly to Zechariah about John the Baptist (1:17),

and he will go before him in the spirit and power of Eli′jah,
to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children,
and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just,
to [prepare (ἑτοιμάσαι)] for the Lord (κυρίῳ) a people [made ready].”

The lexical connections cannot be coincidence, especially since each and every Gospel implements this verse to speak of John the Baptist preparing the way for Christ.

The Gospel of John makes it exceptionally explicit by putting the verse in John the Baptist’s mouth, declaring who he is.

This is a potential incorporation of Jesus into a text that was about God, YHWH.24 This is difficult to argue against since Isaiah clearly pairs “YHWH” and “God” together. V. 5 even notes that, “the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,/ and all flesh shall see it together.” Additionally, due to the ambiguity of the LXX with “Lord,” it allowed for the NT authors to fold Jesus brazenly into the passage.25

When we consider the implications of making Isaiah 40 about a messianic figure, it certainly blurs the line between mortal and divine.26 Even if one wants to argue that this passage is being read as purely messianic,27 the figure undergoes some form of apotheosis. As I argue in 1:43 I will so here, there is an ontological mixing with the play on kurios—Christ is both a messianic figure and divine.28

It is difficult to argue on the narrative level that Jesus is not the intended kurios of this citation, that it is he who is going up to Jerusalem. The paths that are to be prepared by John are those of Christ’s because the Gospels all explicitly establish that John’s ministry for forgiveness of sins is anticipatory of Jesus’s salvific mission (“the salvation of God”).

“My/Our Lord” in Early Jewish Literature

There could be some consternation that the phrase found in Luke 1:43 is “my Lord,” which would be awkward if it were YHWH. As far as I was able to locate, there are no instances in the Hebrew in which someone says “my YHWH.” In turn, this is reliant on the LXX for the development to occur, which does not negate the possibility that God is meant by kurios here.

Let us examine a few examples from Jewish literature and the NT.

I have chosen to explore the Psalms because they have numerous instances in which kurios is used both for YHWH and adonai, and if you do not know the Hebrew underlying the text, it is not always clear which was originally written.

Ps 8:2 would be relatively intelligible that there are two different lexemes underlying the Greek. But, Ps 16:2 is not explicit. If one is unfamiliar with how Hebrew suffixes show possession, it might not be discernable. A Hellenistic Jew could very easily assume the usage of kurios is the same in the address and the quotation. The words are identical.

In the case of Ps 35:23, the pairing of theos and kurios to represent YHWH has been explored, so the reader would have to know that there is something happening in the Hebrew that is different. We have explored numerous examples where the Hebrew is not always precisely represented by the Greek, so this development could easily be adopted to represent “my YHWH” without the author being fully aware of it. This shows some conceptual bleeding; the Divine Name is became quite titular.

Ps 135:5 makes this point clearer. In each instance, YHWH is behind kurios except for in that final line. A Hellenistic Jew ignorant of Hebrew would most assuredly assume that each usage of kurios here is the same.

This may be unconvincing at this point, but trends in the DC and OTP reveal this concept.

We do not have the Hebrew/Aramaic of Tobit for this passage, so we must go off of what is present in the Greek. It would not be surprising if ‘dn is lurking underneath kurios, but that is just an argument of probability from what we have witnessed previously. That said, lord and God are conjoined here, so the Hebrew is moot. The idea still persists that God is lord, and it is conveyed with kurios.

As for the remaining examples, there are clear appearances of kurios plus a possessive pronoun to convey the Divine. These are all obvious and apparent situations in which the author employed my/your kurios to speak of God.

Now, to be thorough, I also supplied an example from the Testament of Abraham to show this could also be applied to an angel.

Even if we presume that Hellenistic Jews—all Jews for that matter—understood the distinction, that ‘dn was intended, that word is used explicitly for God. The argument does not collapse because YHWH is also called ‘dn. If Luke—a Greek author, keep in mind—did intend ‘dn to be behind kurios, that does not mean God was not the intended object.

The final example I wish to explore is from the New Testament to show that even within this corpus, the phrase is inarguably used for God. In Rev 11:15, the author contrasts the Lord with Christ,

The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord (τοῦ κυρίου ἡμῶν) and of his Christ (τοῦ χριστοῦ αὐτοῦ), and he shall reign for ever and ever…

If the distinction is not clear enough, what follows is explicit,

|16| And the twenty-four elders who sit on their thrones before God (θεοῦ) fell on their faces and worshiped God (τῷ θεῷ), |17| saying,

“We give thanks to thee, Lord God Almighty (κύριε ὁ θεὸς ὁ παντοκράτωρ, who art and who wast (ὁ ὢν καὶ ὁ ἦν),
that thou hast taken thy great power and begun to reign.

In these verses, we see numerous names and phrases for God that we have witnessed both in translation and Greek originals. Based upon this lexical usage within Revelation, it is fair to assume that the kurios used in Luke 1:43 could intend God.

I offered earlier that a both-and reading is in mind contingent upon Jesus’s incorporation of Isaiah 40, but to establish this reading would require a more extensive exploration on Davidic messianic expectations, which will be reserved for a later discussion. My purpose of this paper is to establish just one aspect, the likelihood that God is an intended meaning of kurios in 1:43, and these examples further support that proposition.

Synthesis & Conclusion

From this lengthy exploration on the usage of kurios in Early Jewish literature, it is apparent that one cannot dismiss God underlying the text in Luke 1:43. On an exegetical level, we obviously cannot impose the understanding of the Council of Ephesus onto the Gospel, but it is certainly probable that God was in mind—a Christological claim pertaining to Jesus.

I contend this is a multivalent expression intending to appeal to God and Jesus as the Christ. The usage of kurios for the Divine Name and title of God (‘dn) is too widespread, prevalent, and numerous to assert there is no possibility that Luke is playing with this concept.

The incorporation of Jesus into Isa 40:3 at the outset of the Gospel certainly underscores the dual meaning of kurios in 1:43. That said, I do believe a more extensive analysis is needed in regards to Jesus as a Davidic Messiah, e.g., Lukes usage of Ps 110:1 in Luke 20:41–44.29

Be that as it may, I have sufficiently shown that God could certainly have been intended, and it most likely is a tacit high Christological claim prior to Jesus’s birth.

And based on how other NT authors played with the Oneness of God and the usage of Lord in the OT, it should be assumed that Luke, too, would partake in this practice—I have written on this extensively in my MA thesis.

The impetus for most to deny this exegetically sound reading is typically due to some form of anti-Catholic/Orthodox bent, wishing to deny Mary the title “Mother of God.” But, like at Ephesus, the title has little to do with Mary and everything to do with Christ.

Thus, a denial of the high Mariology present in chapter one results in a denigration or lowering of the Christology in the Third Gospel. One should be cautious to be so willing to dismiss a solid reading of Luke due to one’s own personal baggage they bring to the text.

If you have enjoyed this overview of how kurios has been used in Early Jewish literature in relation to the Gospel of Luke and wish to read more about the New Testament, would you kindly subscribe?

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In this article, I will provide a translation of the passage and then discuss the meaning of these verses. This will include talking about a few key words concerning prayer and the structure of the passage.

I will conclude with a brief explanation why this passage is irrelevant for condemning the Christian practice of praying for the dead or requesting intercessory prayers from Mary, the angels, and the saints.

Translation

|2:1| Then first of all, I encourage you to make petitions (δεήσεις), prayers (προσευχὰς), intercessions (ἐντεύξεις), and thanksgivings (εὐχαριστίας) on behalf of all men—|2| on behalf of kings and all who are in authority—so that they lead (διάγωμεν) a smooth and quiet life in all reverence and dignity.

|3| This is good and acceptable before our savior God, |4| who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of truth:

|5| For God is one,1
One also is the mediator for God and men,
The man Christ Jesus,
|6| The one who gave himself as a ransom (ἀντίλυτρον, hapax) on behalf of all,
The witness at the proper time.

|7| For which I was made a preacher and apostle,—I speak truth; I am not lying—a teacher for the Gentiles in faith and truth (πίστει καὶ ἀληθείᾳ).

Notes on the Translation

There are some difficult features in this pericope.2 The two major ones I wish to examine are the seeming synonyms for prayer in v. 1 and the logic of what is said in these seven verses.

I have structured my translation to visually represent this in part, but this entire passage is not about prayer.

1. Make Petitions, Prayers, Intercessions, and Thanksgiving

Paul certainly had specific activities in mind when he listed four words for prayer that have significant semantic overlap. Nuance must be present.

This would be similar to saying, “At Thanksgiving, I want you all to eat, consume, ingest, and imbibe.”

All those words have subtle distinctions,—some being more categorically different, eat vs. drink—but they all basically mean ingesting a solid or liquid that will lead to the filling of one’s belly.3

Another example to illustrate the point is drink, sip, imbibe, and quaff. Each word is basically the same meaning: consume a liquid. But, for native English speakers, there is subtle distinction with each word.

So here in 1 Tim 2:1, each of these words have prayer in mind, but there is lexical distinction. This is made difficult because we are not native Greek speakers of the first century, and the subtle differences are more elusive for us. Presumably, the audience would have a better idea of what was meant.4

As such, I will explore each to attempt to clarify what precisely was intended.

A. Petitions | deе̄sis (δεήσις)

Deе̄sis is a fairly common word in the Septuagint (LXX, 79x), New Testament (NT, 22x), and Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (OTP, 18x)—with a few occurrences in Philo (8x).

BDAG notes for the LXX,

The literature indicates that this form of prayer is a desperate plea or entreaty to God or at times a royal figure, e.g., a king. In the case of Ps 5:2 (LXX 5:3), it is both,

Hearken to the sound of my cry,
my King and my God (ὁ βασιλεύς μου καὶ ὁ θεός μου),5
for to thee do I pray.

(LXX: πρόσχες τῇ φωνῇ τῆς δεήσεώς μου, Give heed to the voice of my petition)

The idea being, desperate requests are made to God. This is a specific type of prayer—entreaty, petition, plea.

1 Macc 11:49 is worth noting, that this noun could be used as an appeal to a king,

|49| When the men of the city saw that the Jews had gained control of the city as they pleased, their courage failed and they cried out to the king with this entreaty (δεήσεως), |50| “Grant us peace, and make the Jews stop fighting against us and our city.”

This is not the typical usage seen within the literature, but it is a worth observing that the intent is similar regardless of the recipient—a king or God. The situation is dire, so it is once again an entreaty or petition in time of need.

In 3 Kgdms 8:45 (=1 Kings), this usage of prayer is used synonymously with another word in 1 Tim 2:1,

…then hear thou in heaven their [petition] and their [prayer] (τῆς δεήσεως αὐτῶν καὶ τῆς προσευχῆς αὐτῶν), and maintain their cause.

We will examine proseuchе̄ in the following subsection, but I want to point out that in 3 Kingdoms, there appears to be little distinction. Here, it is likely an instance of two words used synonymously for emphasis. This is why pinpointing precisely what was intended can be difficult.

Regardless, the idea is still apparent. It is a request for God to hear the petitions of his people.

The desperate need expressed by this word can be found in Judith 9:12,

Hear, O hear me, God of my father, God of the inheritance of Israel, Lord of heaven and earth, Creator of the waters, King of all thy creation, hear my [petition] (τῆς δεήσεώς μου)!

The list of titles emphasize the expressed need of the petition—repeated appeals to honorific titles underscores this. It is an entreaty made out of desperation.

Now, as for the OTP, the Testament of Abraham has a fascinating example of Abraham praying for a dead individual (a soul), who has entered neither heaven nor hell,

|5| Abraham said to the Commander-in-chief, “Come, Commander-in-chief Michael, let us offer a prayer on behalf of this soul (ποιήσωμεν εὐχὴν ὑπὲρ τῆς ψυχῆς ταύτης) and see if God will heed us.”6

And the Commander-in-chief said, “Amen, let it be so.” |6| And they offered supplication and prayer on behalf of the soul (ἐποίησαν δέησιν καὶ εὐχὴν ὑπὲρ τῆς ψυχῆς), and God heeded them, and when they arose from prayer (ἀπὸ τῆς προσευχῆς) they did not see the soul standing there. (14.5–6)

There are a number of things to note here.

1. The usage of “make,” poieō (ποιέω) + “petition,” deе̄sis (δεήσις) + “on behalf of,” huper (ὑπὲρ)—parallel grammatical structure to 1 Timothy 2

2. The synonymous usage of prayer words found in 1 Tim 2:1

There is a new word here for prayer not found in 1 Timothy, euchе̄ (εὐχή), a permutation of proseuchе̄. This also showcases the lexical overlap of many words relating to prayer. It is worth noting that 2 Macc 12:44 also contains the verbal form for this word in regards to prayers for the dead:

For if he were not expecting that those who had fallen would rise again, it would have been superfluous and foolish to pray (εὔχεσθαι) for the dead.

Desperation may not be the emphasis in The Testament of Abraham with deе̄sis, but the idea of petitioning is certainly present in v. 6 when coupled with prayer. The prayer, I posit, is generic in v. 5, and the combination in the following verse narrows and underscores the meaning of the action.

Now, as for the NT, consider Luke 1:13,

But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechari′ah, for your [petition] (δέησίς) is heard, and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call his name John…”

Elizabeth was barren, so a petition to God for a child is a natural understanding of this type of prayer.

In Rom 10:1, we can see Paul petitioning to God for Israel to be saved,

Brethren, my heart’s desire and [petition] (δέησις) to God for them is that they may be saved.

In these instances, the word goes beyond “prayer,” a generic word. Rather, deе̄sis appears to be more specifically a petition to God in a time of need.

B. Prayers | proseuchе̄ (προσευχή)

Proseuchе̄, according to BDAG, is a more generic work for prayer, listing also a petition to God. This word for prayer is more common in the LXX (109x), OTP (21x), and NT (36x) compared to the previous entry.

The lexical usage for general prayer is typified in 2 Kgdms 7:27 where David comes before God after establishing a Covenant with him. David states,

For thou, O Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, hast made this revelation to thy servant, saying, ‘I will build you a house’; therefore thy servant has found courage to pray this prayer (προσεύξασθαι… τὴν προσευχὴν) to thee.

The statement and usage is a general appeal to conversing with God. There is no idea of petition of anything deeper.

In Tobit 3, we can see a semantic overlap with deе̄sis because Tobit and Sarah are making a petition to God, especially Sarah who wishes for death out of despondency. After their prayers, the text records,

The prayer (προσευχὴ) of both was heard in the presence of the glory of the great God.

Both made a petition due to their woes, but the author chose a generic word for prayer.

To compliment this thought, Judith 13:3 contains this understanding of general prayer,

Now Judith had told her maid to stand outside the bedchamber and to wait for her to come out, as she did every day; for she said she would be going out for her prayers (προσευχὴν). And she had said the same thing to Bago′as.

Tobit—again—in 12:8 reflects this general understanding,

Prayer (προσευχὴ) is good when accompanied by fasting, almsgiving, and righteousness. A little with righteousness is better than much with wrongdoing. It is better to give alms than to treasure up gold.

And, one final example from the Deuterocanon, Sirach 7:10 reads,

Do not be fainthearted in your prayer (προσευχῇ),
nor neglect to give alms.

This idea is also conveyed in the New Testament, which is exemplified in Acts 2:42,

And they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers (προσευχαῖς).

Thus, I believe it is safe to conclude that the meaning here relates to praying for others in a general sense—that is, when you converse with God, mention others.

C. Intercessions | enteuksis (ἔντευξις)

The first two words we examined appear fairly regularly, but enteuksis is sparse in the OT (1x), NT (2x), and OTP (2x).

BDAG offers,

The only instance in the LXX is 2 Macc 4:8, which is not helpful, because it is a petition before a king—not a form of prayer.

In the NT, the two instances are both in 1 Timothy, 2:1 and 4:5,

|4| For everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving (εὐχαριστίας); |5| for then it is consecrated by the word of God and prayer (ἐντεύξεως).

The coupling here does not elucidate what is meant in 2:1. Rather, it makes it a bit more confusing because this seems to be generic prayer, and it begs the question, why was proseuchе̄ not used?

It is never wise to question why an author did not choose a word we might expect, but I believe this indicates, once again, the lexical overlap many of these words have. We have seen the first three used for generic prayer, so there may be nothing to glean from this usage in 4:5.

In the Apostolic Constitutions, there are recorded synagogal prayers, and one contains enteuksis,

Upon you the hopes of devout people have relied:
the Father of the blameless,
the Hearer of those who call upon you with honesty,
the one who knows the petitions (ἐντεύξεις) unspoken.
…
the incense that comes through prayer (προσευχῆς) and words is sent up to you.
(7:33, transl. from Charlesworth OTP)

Here, this appears to indicate just a petition or a request. The idea being, God takes care of the needs of a person, even if those needs are unspoken. So, there is not an idea of intercession.

The second instance occurs in the Letter of Aristeas, which is a “petition” to the king, not a prayer. Thus, here are two instances that show a closer meaning to deе̄sis.

In the Shepherd of Hermas, though, there is a clear and apparent usage of enteuksis as an intercessory prayer. The author describes how it is difficult for the rich to pray before God, so they are to take care of the poor, for their prayers hold more weight. As such, the poor would intercede before God on behalf of the wealthy:

…for the poor person is rich in prayer of petition (ἐντεύξει) and praise, and his or her intercession (ἔντευξις) has great power before God.

…and the rich person is continually concerned about the poor, that the poor may continue unceasing in life, for the rich one knows that the [intercession] (ἔντευξις ) of the poor is acceptable and rich in the sight of the Lord. (2:5, 6; transl. C. Osiek, Shepherd of Hermas: A Commentary, 161)

There must be distinctions in mind when Paul wrote 1 Timothy 2:1. Our first examination of deе̄sis is more clearly a petition before God. As such, it is unlikely that enteuksis is to be understood in the same way.

Rather, I offer that the meaning lies closer to what is in the Shepherd of Hermas. Paul is instructing multiple types of prayer on behalf of others, and I contend that the usage here indicates Paul wishes for the Church to intercede on behalf of others to God.

D. Thanksgivings | eucharistia (εὐχαριστία)

Eucharistia, just like the previous word, is relatively uncommon in the OT (4x), NT (15x), OTP (8x), and the Apostolic Fathers (7x, all instances in Ignatius except 1 in the Didache).

Eucharistia is used specifically for the Eucharist in Ignatius and the Didache, but is that the case for here in 1 Timothy 2 and the NT? As tempting as it may be to want this to be present in our current passage, that seems rather unlikely.7

But, generally, the term is used for showing gratitude or thanksgiving. Within the Pauline corpus, the term is coupled with prayer outside of 1 Timothy 2,

Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer (προσευχῇ) and supplication (δεήσει) with thanksgiving (εὐχαριστίας) let your requests be made known to God. (Phil 4:6)

Continue steadfastly in prayer (προσευχῇ), being watchful in it with thanksgiving (εὐχαριστίᾳ)… (Col 4:2)

Philippians has three of our four terms together, but the context does not begin to clarify the specificity of what the terms can mean. The broader examination of how the words were used in other literature has been more helpful.

Within the LXX, all instances fall outside of the Hebrew originals. 2 Macc 2:27 reads,

…just as it is not easy for one who prepares a banquet and seeks the benefit of others. However, to secure the gratitude (εὐχαριστίαν) of many we will gladly endure the uncomfortable toil…

The usage here is more generic having nothing to do with prayer or God. The term just reflects thanksgiving of guests at a banquet.

Wis 16:28, though, does link thanksgiving and God,

…to make it known that one must rise before the sun to give thee thanks (εὐχαριστίαν), and must pray (ἐντυγχάνειν) to thee at the dawning of the light…

The context of this statement concerns the manna from heaven for the Israelites. Here we see again a connection between prayer and thanksgiving to God, but the word for prayer here shares the root with enteuksis (ἔντευξις).

In short, the most likely intent here is to reflect the idea of giving thanks to God.

2. Syntax and Logic of the Passage

Now that we have generally established what the words for prayer are in the first verse, it is critical to establish the flow of the text. The RSV calls all of chapter 2 “Instructions concerning Prayer,” but that might be a bit misleading.

The entire section is not dealing only with prayer. I have highlighted my translation above to illustrate what is happening in the text: prayer > transition > creed > Paul’s mission.

The yellow text relates to prayer, but the green material is a transition. V. 3–4 explains why praying to “God our Savior” is good and God’s desire for the salvation of all. This seems to trigger in Paul’s mind another topic: what is the “knowledge of truth” as it pertains to salvation.

Vv. 5–6 appear to resemble a creedal/catechetical/liturgical formula,8 potentially a quotation of what this truth on salvation is. And, it appears to play a game of word association.

One is God.9
There is One mediator between God and men,
That mediator is the man Jesus who gave his life as a ransom.

V. 7, in turn, is a personal note on how Paul relates to this truth.

V. 8 then speaks of prayer again. So, the verses that fall between vv. 2 and 8 are not about prayer. The use of “mediator” in v. 5 then has nothing to do with prayer; it instead concerns salvation and how it was brought about for all of humanity.

An Explanation of Prayer and Mediation

I have talked around the confusion of 1 Tim 2:5 by the very nature of discussing the meaning of these words for prayer and the structure of the passage. It is evident from the context that what is discussed in 2:1 is different from what is stated in 2:5.

In the first verse, Paul is instructing the need for the faithful to pray on behalf of others, especially leaders and the authorities. Whereas, in v. 5, this is a discussion of how salvation comes to humanity, via the death of Christ.

As such, Christ as the one mediator has nothing to do with the prayer of v. 1. The mediator role has to deal with salvation. Afterall, the petition in 2:1 is meant to request intercessory prayer on behalf of others to God for their salvation and well-being. We are all called to be intercessors, which does not certainly infringe on the mediatorial role Christ serves in v. 5.

It is worth noting that intercessory prayers, even for the dead, are not a Christian invention. This was seen above in 2 Maccabees and the Testament of Abraham,

|5| Abraham said to the Commander-in-chief, “Come, Commander-in-chief Michael, let us offer a prayer on behalf of this soul (ποιήσωμεν εὐχὴν ὑπὲρ τῆς ψυχῆς ταύτης) and see if God will heed us…”
…And Abraham said to the angel, “Where is the soul which you were holding in the middle?” 8 And the angel said, “It was saved through your righteous prayer, and behold a light-bearing angel took it and carried it up to Paradise.” (T.Abr. 14.5, 7)

For if he were not expecting that those who had fallen would rise again, it would have been superfluous and foolish to pray (εὔχεσθαι) for the dead. (2 Macc 12:44)

These two examples show that there was this developing understanding within Judaism that prayers on behalf of the dead could have salvific ramifications.

Even within the NT, there is this idea that the prayers of the righteous could have salvific repercussions, and there is even lexical parallels to 2 Maccabees and The Testament of Abraham:

|14| Is any among you sick? Let him call for the elders (πρεσβυτέρους) of the church, and let them pray (προσευξάσθωσαν) over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord; |15| and the prayer of faith (εὐχὴ τῆς πίστεως) will save (σώσει) the sick man, and the Lord will raise him up; and if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven.

|16| Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray (εὔχεσθε) for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man has great power in its effects. (James 5:14–16)

There is a confluence of salvation, forgiveness of sins, and healing for this type of prayer: euchе̄. Though the root of this word is a permutation of proseuchе̄, which we discussed previously, it is related to what I classified as “general prayer.” In this context, it is hard to argue that there is not some idea of intercession with the presbyters.

James is specifically instructing for them to pray or intercede on behalf of others to God. This is not an instance of prayer on behalf of the dead, but it shows that intercession on behalf of the faithful is efficacious, akin to what we saw in the Shepherd of Hermas. There is even this idea that prayer by some is more beneficial than others; here, it is that of the righteous man.

This idea logically translated to prayers for the dead in Christianity, though, which we can observe in the NT apocrypha.

In the Acts of Paul and Thecla, Falconilla—a deceased girl—appears to her mother in a dream, and requests that someone pray for her so that she might attain eternal life,

Mother; let the young woman, Thecla, be reputed by you as your daughter in my stead; and desire her that she should pray for me, that I may be translated to a state of happiness… (8.5)

My daughter Falconilla, has appeared to me, and ordered me to receive you in her room; wherefore I desire, Thecla, that you would pray for my daughter, that she may be translated into a state of happiness, and to life eternal. (8.6)

When Thecla heard this, she immediately prayed to the Lord, and said: O Lord God of heaven and earth, Jesus Christ, thou Son of the Most High, grant that her daughter Falconilla may live for ever. (8.7; transl. W. Hone, The Apocryphal New Testament)

Though this text is a 2c. forgery, composed by a priest out of love for Paul (cf. Tertullian, de Baptismo 17),10 this document represents concerns of the time period. This story is a historical witness to Early Christian beliefs that prayers for the dead were effective.

M. O’Connor has an excellent article—“A Soul’s Second Chance: The Testament of Abraham and Traditions of Praying for the Dead” JSP (2026): 1–15—evaluating documents that mention prayer for the dead in earlier Jewish and later Christian literature.

His overview of the texts, explanation, and evaluation of scholarship on this topic is superb and worth reading for a more detailed examination of this topic.

In all the passages we have explored, we see the intercessory importance for Christians to pray on behalf of others. Does this then infringe on Christ as the one mediator?

Obviously it does not since there is a distinction here between intercessory prayer and mediation of salvation. Praying on behalf of another does not detract from the work of Christ. Rather, conceptually, it is working in cooperation with this act.

Any and all prayer that is effective is contingent upon the ransom of Christ. To tie this back in to 1 Timothy, Paul instructed the necessity of prayer on behalf of others. It, in turn, is logical that Paul would discuss prayer and the salvific work of Christ. The two are intricately linked, for it is God who is our Savior. He accomplished this through his Son’s death, as Paul claims.

That then leads into Paul’s purpose: to preach this truth to other so that they, too, might be saved. The prayer on behalf of others, this intercessory act, is meant to lead to Salvation, which is made available via the death of Christ.

Conclusion

To pit intercession and mediation against each other in this passage is to miss Paul’s point entirely. The intercessions Paul wishes others to conduct is intricately linked to Jesus’s death for salvation.

1 Timothy 2 in no way denounces prayers for the dead or requesting the Saints in heaven to pray on our behalf. Rather, as the Church developed her thought on the Communion of the Saints, it is completely complementary to pray for and request prayers from those who have fallen asleep.

All are united in Christ by his death, so one must twist Paul’s meaning of intercession and mediation in 1 Timothy 2 to denounce prayer for/to the dead.

We see the importance of this practice as we explored in the literary history of Judaism and Early Christianity. This thought persisted also among the Fathers. Tertullian wrote,

As often as the anniversary comes round, we make offerings for the dead as birthday honours. (De Corona 3)

The Martyrdom of Polycarp also emphasizes the importance of saintly relics and honoring the deceased,

|2| And so later on we took up his bones, which are more valuable than precious stone and finer than refined gold, and deposited them in a suitable place.

|3| There, when we gather together as we are able, with joy and gladness, the Lord will permit us to celebrate the birthday of his martyrdom in commemoration of those who have already fought in the contest and also for the training and preparation of those who will do so in the future. (18.2–3, ca. AD 200, cf. C. Moss, "On the Dating of Polycarp"; transl. by M. Holmes)

This concept of praying to and for the dead is not even remotely prohibited in 1 Timothy 2. Rather, it is the germ for understanding communal prayer for all Christians, living or dead, for we do not cease to be part of the body of Christ when we fall asleep.

As a final note to go beyond the realm of historical-critical exegesis, it is in the Divine Liturgy or the Mass where this communion is truly achieved. It is a liturgical event—precisely in the Eucharist—where the earthly and heavenly realms converge for worship.

The intercessions and prayers of the living and the dead are made a reality in the worship of God and the re-presentation of Christ’s death, which transcends both space and time.

Prayers to or for the dead in no way contradict the ideas present in 1 Timothy 2. Rather, it is a natural extension of the concept because we are all called to pray and intercede for one another. If we truly believe there is no death in Christ, then requesting those who have already finished the race to petition to God is quite complementary.

If you have enjoyed this overview of prayer and mediation in 1 Timothy and wish to read more about the New Testament, would you kindly subscribe?

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Historicity is a difficult topic; our standards, access to information, and styles are exceedingly different from the ancients. I have broached this topic in a three-part series on Luke-Acts and speechcraft.

When we examine the Gospels, it is apparent that there are differing details in the narratives of Christ’s life. Some of these cannot be harmonized, but is this a problem for historical reliability? As stated, the standards of now are not the same as then.

This difference, though, does not simply make the problem of historical reliability dissipate. The jarring paradoxes, inconsistencies, and differing details all point to a conclusion. An answer must be given to the inevitable question, are the Gospels reliable?

When we read the Gospels, they each tell a different tale; they all weave their own yarn. Each author has an intended purpose, and each wishes to convey different theological points than the others. There are congruencies, yes, (Jesus was baptized, had a ministry, was crucified, and rose from the dead), but we would have no need of 4 Gospels were they identical.

We also know without a doubt that textual sharing occurred,—a large percentage of Mark appears in both Matthew and Luke—but it is not apparent which came first and which followed chronologically. The literary connection between them is undisputed, though, and the analysis of how these documents are related is called the Synoptic Problem.

In this article, I will cover this topic briefly because it is foundational before we are able to explore the historicity of the Gospels. In turn, it is critical to establish the genre of these documents, for that dictates how they should be read and what is expected by the reader. Finally, I hope to reflect on the purpose of the Gospels generally.

Are they meant to be historical records? Do each of the evangelists have the same concerns and problems? Are we even asking the appropriate questions?

Nota Bene: This is an uncomfortable conversation, but it is one that is necessary. A coherent answer must be given to resolve these issues in a post-modern world. It is necessary to have an explanation why Scripture is a reliable epistemic witness to truth.

These inquiries and topics cannot be fully explicated in a single SubStack article, but I do hope to produce something that will prime the pump for later discussions.

The underlying thrust of this project, ultimately, is to re-evaluate the hermeneutical approach of the Evangelists when they composed their Gospels. The term I wish to use is Re-Written Gospel,1 based upon James Kugel’s work on re-written Bible.

The Gospel writers were all composing with literary works in hand,—some we have, some we do not—and they are re-shaping these sources to tell their own stories. This may appear tangential, but it is a critical component of assessing historicity: How were the Evangelists manipulating their sources to tell their story?

We know for certain that there was inter-dependence in composition, and this article will illustrate how these authors manipulated and changed these narratives to achieve their own theological ends. This ultimately culminates with a reflection on how this process impacted historicity and what inerrancy ultimately is for the Gospel narratives.

The Synoptic Problem

Before we can explore Gospel historicity and the other topics above, I think it best to discuss the Synoptic Problem: which Gospel came first, the dependency of the others in composition, and the literary relationship they all share.

Ultimately, the conclusion and reality are immaterial for my ultimate point because no one disagrees that the Gospels are copying each other, and there is certainly a reliance on other writings and/or oral tradition. Be that as it may, I want to display the 3 major views in the field—Lucan priority will not be discussed because it is the most unlikely situation.

The traditional explanation is called the Augustinian Theory, which holds Matthew was composed first, followed by Mark and then Luke—the canonical order.2

The scholarly permutation was posited by Johann Griesbach, which assumes Matthean priority, with Luke written next and then Mark.

The majority view in the academy is called the Two-Source Theory.

In this model, Mark was composed first, and there existed a sayings source, known as Q,—short for German Quelle, “source”—which has only been hypothesized. When the Gospel of Thomas was discovered, this document was believed to be Q since it was essentially what had been theorized. Today, this opinion has been abandoned. That said, it admittedly does strengthen the case for Q because a document of its kind was discovered.

Matthew and Luke, in turn, wrote having no knowledge of the other. They both use Mark and Q.

The final view was promulgated by Austin Farrer, and it has gained additional ground and prominence due to the work of Mark Goodacre—consult Goodacre’s book The Synoptic Problem: A Way through the Maze.

In this theory, Mark was composed first, followed by Matthew and then Luke, with each subsequent author possessing what was composed before him.

All positions assume John is the final Gospel to have been written.3

It is important to note, not one theory truly resolves the problem, for there are issues with each. These details will not be explicated in this brief examination, but I will be presupposing the Farrer/Goodacre theory.

Why? I do believe Mark was written first. Its brevity and more cryptic Christology are signs of an earlier record of Christ’s life. There are significant features missing such as a birth narrative, the virgin birth, and extended preaching discourses (e.g., the Sermon on the Mount/Plains).

This does not necessarily prove that Mark was written first, but the easier explanation from silence is that Mark did not have these narratives, whereas the later Gospels did. It is simpler to assume addition happened rather than extensive deletion.4

The Messianic Secret and the general cryptic nature of the Gospel contribute to my position. In many ways, the other Gospels appear to be amending Mark in order to clarify what he meant—more on this to follow.

I also am not comfortable with accepting the existence of a hypothetical document we have no concrete evidence for. Goodacre’s work—The Case Against Q—is compelling enough to cast doubt on the hypothetical document.

Finally, a major feature of the discussion centers on shared material. There are three main categories,

1. Triple Tradition—a story shared by all three

2. Double Tradition—two of the Synoptics share the narrative (specifically when Matthew and Luke agree)

3. Single Tradition—the pericope is contained in only one Gospel

These features will be impactful in the following section, where I wish to discuss how the Evangelists composed their Gospels, dependent on sources they developed and altered.

Re-Written Bible and Re-Written Gospel

In my most recent article, I briefly explored James Kugel’s discussion of re-written Bible as an Early Jewish hermeneutic for interpreting OT texts.

Kugel explains the hermeneutic as follows,

Retelling, it should be said, was actually the preferred form of biblical commentary in this period. That is, instead of citing a particular verse and explaining its meaning (as our modern-day, and some ancient, commentators do), Second Temple writers preferred to retell the text, substituting for a problematic word or phrase one that would be understood by all readers... This form of writing (Jubilees is only one example) has been termed the “Rewritten Bible,” but it was almost never a rewriting for rewriting’s sake; by retelling the text in their own words, commentators were able to explain things and eliminate any perceived inconsistencies or problems.5

He begins his chapter detailing that it is relatively unknown how precisely the Hebrew Bible was compiled prior to Christianity, explaining that various groups likely compiled parts together, which then led to a complete corpus later.

It must be remembered, the ancients did not conceptualize Scripture like we do today for various reasons. Accessibility, especially in the Ancient Near East, would have been non-existent for most. Mass production was an impossibility. Reading was not a skill everyone acquired. Communication was exceedingly more limited.

The documents we have preserved are significant, and they have withstood the test of time. But, that is not to say that everything we consider inspired now, was then, nor does it mean that these communities were not reading other documents that we do not believe to be authoritative. We see this in the first century concerning differences in various Jewish sects, e.g., Pharisees, Sadducees, and Qumran.

Later in the chapter, Kugel explains that the need for interpreters rose due to the inability of people to understand what had been written. The entire OT was not composed within 20 years. As such, those returning from the Babylonian exile were so far removed from when the Torah was written, there were words, phrases, and concepts that would have been wholly unintelligible to them, so an authoritative interpretation needed to be established.

We also see this, as Kugel points out, in translation, i.e., the Old Greek or Septuagint.6 There are many instances in which the varied translators took the liberty to interpret what they believe was happening in the Hebrew—an example of this can be found in my Matthew 16 article.

Additionally, perceived narrative contradictions needed to be reconciled, so interpreters undertook this task by explaining them in their commentaries, in their re-tellings of biblical events.

He brings a plethora of examples from the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (OTP)—1 Enoch, Jubilees, Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, etc.—Qumran, and Philo to illustrate this developing hermeneutic.

In his conclusion writing on exegetical motifs, he expresses an important sentiment for what I wish to discuss concerning the Gospels,

There have been many interpreters since these first generations. Later Jewish and Christian exegetes built on the interpretations they received from their forebears. Patristic exegetes, thought they inherited the attitude to the text and a considerable body of interpretations from earlier times, created a highly developed set of typological and allegorical interpretations of their own; their writings ultimately led to the medieval doctrine of four levels of meaning in every biblical text (22).

Now, it may seem nonsensical to discuss Kugel’s chapter on re-written Bible for our current study, but I believe this hermeneutic aptly displays what is happening in the Gospels.

We will take my assumption that Mark was composed first in this article. As such, he created his narrative from his own thoughts, likely oral traditions, and there may have been other documents he had at his disposal. We may not have any of this confirmed in the historical or literary record, but it seems unlikely that he had nothing at all and generated the Gospel from nothing.7

In time, Matthew then composed his Gospel, relying on Mark, and then Luke decided to write his own narrative, reliant on both Matthew and Luke. Due to this literary dependence, they are shaping and re-working material in their own compositions.

We can see a window into this from Luke’s prologue (1:1–4),

|1:1| Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things which have been accomplished among us, |2| just as they were delivered to us by those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word, |3| it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent The-oph′ilus, |4| that you may know the truth concerning the things of which you have been informed.

In the opening verses of Luke’s Gospel, we have a clear statement that he compiled evidence. V. 3 feels pointed, too, that he wants to create something “orderly,” implying others have done work that he believes needs updating, or the texts require explanation—interpretation.

There is no way to read this introduction and not assume he is in part referencing Mark and Matthew—at the very least Mark because he takes so much from his Gospel.

Because of this literary reliance, we can observe interpretation of these documents shortly after they were composed.

Evolutions of Mark in Matthew and Luke

In order to discuss re-written bible as an exegetical practice in the Gospels, it will be most apparent if we look at concrete examples.

There are instances in which Matthew and Luke either clean up something they do not like in Mark, or they wish to shift a theological emphasis. This is achieved in a number of different ways. A few of these tactics I want to explore include,

1. Alteration of Mark

2. Expansion of Mark

3. Deletion from Mark

Matthew and Luke are both working solidly with Mark as if it is their base text—the chronology is nearly identical, and the heavy reliance on Mark’s content establishes this. In turn, when Matthew and/or Luke diverge from Mark, there is a reason. It is not always apparent why, but that is the onerous task of the historian and exegete: explain why the change happened.

Our first example comes from the account of the “rich young ruler”—a convenient title contrived based on his differing descriptions in the Synoptics. Here, Mark presents Jesus saying something alarming that seems to denigrate himself:

|17| And as he was setting out on his journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” |18| And Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone… (10:17–18)

In this instance, Matthew appears uncomfortable with Jesus excluding himself from being good, so he implements an alteration to Mark. Check the synopsis below:8

Matthew changes the man’s question, which results in a different response from Jesus: “Why do you ask me about what is good?” Why? The easiest explanation is that he was uncomfortable with how Mark framed the narrative. So, Matthew simply retells the tale in order to smooth over a potentially embarrassing detail in Mark.

Now, I will not delve into this deeply because it distracts from the point, but Mark does not imply Jesus is not “good.” He heals the man with the withered hand in 3:1–6, implying he has done “good,” a lexical tie that is critical for understanding this passage.

Joel Marcus has a convincing article on this topic, “Authority to Forgive Sins Upon the Earth” (1994).

As for discussing re-written Gospel, the alteration is done as an interpretive shift akin to the examples provided by Kugel of Second Temple exegetes. This hermeneutic of re-written Bible is precisely parallel to what is occurring here in Matthew 19. A word or phrase has been changed to smooth out a potentially problematic position.

The next example I want to highlight is Peter’s confession in Mark and Matthew. Matthew greatly expands the Marcan narrative, elevating Peter’s status among the apostles; the synopsis shows,

I have written an expansive article on this pericope in Matthew, so I will refrain from repeating myself here—link above. But, I do want to reflect on the why this occurred. Obviously, there is no detail in the text that explicitly states the purpose behind the elongation of the narrative. There also is no hint if this is a Matthean invention, if this is an oral tradition, or if there was a written document recording this material.

One can only speculate the source and the impetus. That said, based on what we have explored in re-written Bible, we can postulate that this is an interpretation of Mark. Matthew’s audience may have had allegiance to Peter or had a special interest in the apostle. Or, maybe Matthew just personally wanted to advocate for Peter’s prominent role.

There may also have been developing trends within the Church that caused Matthew to desire to put authoritative words in Jesus’s mouth in order to advocate for Petrine leadership in a unique way. It could be a further clarification concerning the successors of the apostles, that they have a special authority in the Church (cp. Matt 18:15–20 on binding and loosing).

We cannot say definitively why, but it is clear that Matthew made an interpretive expansion to Mark’s narrative.

Another obvious example is Jesus walking on water, and Peter’s inclusion in Matthew.

Here we have 2 examples of the three instances above: an expansion—Matthew—and a deletion—Luke. In this survey of re-written Gospel, we are not concerned with the exegetical explanation. I just wish to illustrate these features.

It all falls under a similar hermeneutic as re-written Bible. Mark is a base text that Matthew and Luke are amending for interpretive reasons. It is more complicated than what was occurring in the Second Temple Period because the impetus was different, but the exegetical practice is similar. By this, I mean they are writing—more than likely—before the death of the author whom they are copying rather than hundreds of years later.

In this third case, we have an example where Matthew felt compelled to say something about Peter and interpret further Mark’s Gospel. Whereas, in Luke, he must have felt the narrative was not as critical for his theological narrative—regardless, a shocking omission.

EDIT: 12 May 2026—an example for Luke

We have focused mostly on Matthew altering or adding to Mark, so I want to provide an example of Luke potentially expounding on a pericope. In Mark 3:31–35, it is quite easily to interpret this passage of Jesus putting down his family, which includes his mother.

If we check the synopsis, the accounts are relatively the same, but Luke may be interpreting this passage later in his Gospel.

In chapter 11, a similar phrase is said by Jesus that appears on the surface to exclude Mary his mother again, which would be odd considering the developed Mariology that is present in the introduction to the Gospel.

And this is precisely what is key. In the Third Gospel, Luke seems to want to unpack Mark’s potentially exclusionary phrase9 in Luke 11:27–28:

This is an instance of a pericope that is unique to Luke, and I am positing that this interaction was included in order to highlight Mary as the epitome of one who hears the word of God and keeps it. I have a short article explicating this.

So, for our study, we have an instance here in Luke where he mostly retains what Mark has, but he adds a quick narrative later to provide some explanation, albeit this explication is subtle and relies on previous positive statements concerning Mary.

This is a critical component to contemplate, though. Were it not for Luke, the development of Mariology could very well have been quite different. Since he has far more of an emphasis on Mary than Mark, it would not be surprising if this interaction were added to supply narrative cohesion to promote the importance of Mary’s role in the life of Christ.

EDIT: 5 May 2026—an example I forgot to include.

Our last example will be the final words of Christ. Of the four Gospels, we have three exceedingly different records for Jesus’s final words.

Here, we see agreement between Matthew and Mark, but Luke and John differ. So, we have examples of copying—Matthew—and alteration—Luke (and John).

These differences are significant for our analysis in two ways. First, each record cannot be historically accurate, and an attempt to harmonize will lead to a preposterous result. Second, these shifts are clearly for a narrative reason. Each author wished to have Jesus’s last words mean something significant for their own theological story.

Ultimately, we must remember that each Evangelist wrote for a purpose, and their decision to add, remove, or alter narrative details and events were done so to interpret who Jesus was as the Christ,—the Son of God—contingent on sources they are re-writing and interpreting.

The Gospels are more complicated than just simply stating they are a product of writing Mark with a twist. As I discussed in the Synoptic Problem section, 76% of Mark is shared between all three, but this makes up less than 50% of Matthew and Luke. Each Evangelist was constructing their own story.

As such, this idea of re-written Gospel explains only so much, but I do believe the hermeneutic of re-written Bible helps us understand what is happening when Matthew and Luke are adapting Mark. It is a way for us to reevaluate this material because these authors are potentially revealing how they understood the Second Gospel.

It is a means of interpretation while simultaneously incorporating a story into their own narrative. This is not an act of mere plagiarism.

This becomes apparent when comparing the similarities between Mark and John, especially in the shared narratives that the Fourth Evangelist expanded.

The Gospel of John as Commentary on Mark

The tide has been shifting in scholarship on the relationship between John and Mark. Previously, the majority view was that John had no knowledge of Mark. That view is becoming less popular.

In this final section on re-written Gospel, I want to show why I believe John knew Mark, and how he employed similar techniques to those found in documents like Jubilees and 1 Enoch—re-written bible.10

It must be kept in mind, though, that John is a different type of Gospel from the Synoptics. Mark, Matthew, and Luke follow nearly the same chronology, but John differs greatly. If John does borrow a story shared by the Synoptics, we do not see the same literary copying as we do with the others. As such, his re-written Gospel is a different type, but the general principle still applies: he is interpreting the stories that came before.

I will explore only one example to illustrate my point of re-written Gospel in John and Marcan dependence: The miraculous feeding in the Wilderness. I have written on the Feeding of the 5,000 in Mark and the Bread of Life discourse in John, if you wish to see my thoughts on these pericopes independently.

I have not explicated this connections in either work, but the discussion in John 6, I believe, is deeply contingent on the Evangelist’s reading and understanding of Mark 6:30–44 and a number of relevant pericopes.

First, I must establish that the Feeding of the 5,000 is meant to be Eucharistic, at least a foreshadowing of the ritual in the Last Supper based on lexical and syntactical features.

In my article on bread in Mark above, I argue that the Wilderness Generation and the provision of Mana in the Torah, the Psalms, and extra-Jewish literature is foundational for understanding the passage—really, all of Mark 6–8. Mark is not explicit that this OT type is present in the text like it is in John.

This OT narrative is meant to prefigure the Feeding of the 5,000 and ultimately the Last Supper/Eucharist.

My argument rests on significant internal parallels in the Feeding of the 5,000, the Feeding of the 4,000, and the Last Supper—the blessing and breaking of the bread.

And taking (λαβὼν) the five loaves (ἄρτους) and the two fish he looked up to heaven (ἀναβλέψας εἰς τὸν οὐρανὸν), and blessed (εὐλόγησεν), and broke (κατέκλασεν) the loaves (ἄρτους ), and gave them to the disciples (ἐδίδου τοῖς μαθηταῖς) to set before the people (6:41)

…and he took (λαβὼν) the seven loaves (ἄρτους), and having given thanks (εὐχαριστήσας ) he broke (ἔκλασεν) them and gave (ἐδίδου) them to his disciples to set before the people (8:6)

And as they were eating, he took (λαβὼν) bread (ἄρτον), and blessed (εὐλογήσας), and broke (ἔκλασεν) it, and gave (ἔδωκεν) it to them, and said, “Take; this is my body.” (14:22)

Notice in all three instances of the event, there is a genetic relationship: taking bread, blessing/giving thanks, breaking, and giving.

In Mark 14, the final phrase is key, “this is my body.” It is quite natural then to perceive the other two feeding miracles as anticipatory of the Last Supper, and the miraculous feeding of Manna in the Wilderness for the wandering generation is the prefigurement.

It is, in turn, logical to conclude that these are primitive images of the Eucharist in the ministry of Christ. But, this underdeveloped thought may not be as half-baked as one might think when considering Paul’s discussion of the Eucharist in 1 Corinthians 10–11,—he also relies on the Wilderness Generation—which I have explored in my John 6 article (above).

In our earliest attestation of the Words of Institution, we see these same features present, sans the giving to the disciples. Be that as it may, the persistent tradition centers around “this is my body.”

Now, as for re-written Gospel in John, I contend that John is fully aware of this feature in Mark. The Fourth Evangelist was writing most likely in the late first, early second century, and the Eucharistic rite had been practiced for decades, and with it, the concept of real presence was developing from as early as Paul.

When John recounts the Feeding of the 5,000, he retains the Wilderness Generation and the Manna prefigurement—contrasting it specifically in the Bread of Life discourse—while explicating what precisely this text signifies. Just as Jubilees takes narratives from Genesis and develops them for his own reasons, so John took Mark as a base text and put his sacramental thought into Jesus’s mouth in order to detail what he believed was happening in the rite.

In his own miraculous feeding, John has Jesus perform the ritual similarly,

Jesus then took (ἔλαβεν) the loaves (ἄρτους), and when he had given thanks (εὐχαριστήσας), he distributed (διέδωκεν) them to those who were seated… (6:11)

There is present the taking, the giving thanks, and the distribution. Admittedly, it is unfortunate the “breaking” is not present,11 but we have seen variation in the presentation already. What matters is the genetic relationship between all these presentations.

In a way, there are two levels of rewritten bible occurring. John is retelling the miraculous feeding account from the OT as anticipatory of Christ, as well as interpreting the germ from Mark and rewriting it for his own developed theological purpose.

John makes it explicit that Mark is working within a framework of the Wilderness Generation: “Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died” (6:49). This dialogue following the Walking on Water account in the Fourth Gospel is interpretive commentary on Mark.

The appeal to the Exodus is not a creation by John; it is dependent upon Mark. He is explicating the OT foundation and presenting a eucharistic explanation of the rite in the late first, early second century. This is further underscored by Mark’s clear parallelism of the two feedings and the Last Supper. John, recognizing this connection, chose to have his Eucharistic discussion in chapter 6 because of the interdependence of these pericopes in Mark.

But, it may not always be interpretation or commentary that is occurring in an alteration. John intentionally shifts the day on which Christ was crucified. In the Synoptics, Jesus dies after Passover, but in the Fourth Gospel, it is on the day of Preparation, which precedes the Passover meal.

The why goes beyond the scope of this article,—I have written on this elsewhere—but briefly the intent is to make a theological statement: Christ is the paschal lamb.

This motif is not present in the Synoptic Gospels, so the narrative change is done to make a greater theological point (cp. 1 Cor 5:7). The author’s theological perspective drove him to construct the narrative in this way regardless of the strict historicity.

And, the development happened for the author’s own independent purposes. This is not an interpretation of Mark. John even felt comfortable contradicting the Synoptics—at least Mark.

In these narratives, the authors want to tell a story about Jesus in order to express their theology, so this must be kept in mind when evaluating the narrative inconsistencies, changes, contradictions, and expansions.

Thus, this instance is not an example of re-written Gospel. There is no interpretation or explanation occurring. Rather, he changed the narrative purely to make his own theological statement.

I think this distinction is necessary because not all evolutions of Mark, et al. fall under this hermeneutic.

When we understand all three Evangelists are working at some level with the other Gospels that came before, though, it becomes clear that there is exposition occurring in these writings. John is not just merely writing his beliefs, but he is supplying additional commentary on Mark, just like other Early Jewish authors did in their re-written bible accounts.

So, this ultimately leads to a discussion of historical reliability and what is truth.

Gospel Historicity, Genre, and Purpose

All three of these aspects of the Gospels are intrinsically linked. One cannot determine historicity if the genre has not been established, and it is impossible to understand purpose without locating the type of literature.

As such, it may be best to start with genre, for this situates the way in which a document should be read.

Genre: What is a Gospel?

Are the Gospels a unique genre of ancient literature that is particular to Christianity? In a way, yes, but this is a bit misleading.

The Synoptic Gospels are commonly understood to be Greco-Roman bioi (sg. bios). Graham Stanton, The Gospels and Jesus (2nd ed.), succinctly explains,

A careful study of the methods of the Greek and Roman biographers leads to a positive conclusion of some importance. Even though ancient biographers did not trace character development and rarely summed up their subject’s character in their own words, they were interested in the method of characterization. They allowed the actions and words of a person to speak for themselves. (17)12

This genre of literature traces the life of an individual, selecting stories that emphasize a characteristic(s). This can include unique birth events, epitomic virtues present from childhood, and heroic feats designed to illustrate the idyllic person. The narratives are heavily doctored to venerate the person.

We should be careful, though, to define the genre so narrowly and be aware of the limitations. The Gospels do not perfectly fit within this category, but it is a sufficient base with which to begin.

Recently, Jeremiah Coogan published a chapter—“Gospels and Other Narrative Experiments in the Roman Mediterranean”—problematizing the Greco-Roman bios for the Gospels. He notes that the explosion of bioi did not occur in the literary record until later,—e.g., Plutarch—and the set characteristics were not nearly as firm as has been assumed. He astutely notes,

Early narratives about Jesus… participate in this capacious network of literary experiments. My argument is thus not that gospel are sui generis. Much to the contrary, they occupy a vibrant literary field that shaped the expectations of early audiences… Narrative prose in the early Roman period is characterized by far more generic instability, experimentation, and innovation than gospels scholarship has acknowledged. (8)

Regardless of the precise label we place upon the books, it is clear based on the Synoptic comparisons, there are a number of characteristics to note:

• These are not historical documents, meaning recording history is not the impetus

• There is room for expansion, exaggeration, and explication

• Fabrication is not off limits to illustrate a theme or perspective

• Theological reflection and expression drive the narrative

Ultimately, these are theological stories or narratives. The Synoptics are generally the same in so far as they present stories about Jesus to convey aspects of who he was and what he accomplished. At times the narrative is meant to focus on a particular aspect of Christianity, e.g., discipleship, whereas there are also overarching themes that pervade the narrative and find their expression in multiple pericopes, e.g., Christology and soteriology.

Now, the Fourth Evangelist is rather different, as I have argued in my John 6 and John 3 papers, but I will not expound on that further here.

The Early Church even acknowledged this, as Clement of Alexandria represents,

But John, last of all, conscious that the outward facts had been set forth in the Gospels, was urged on by his disciples, and, divinely moved by the Spirit, composed a spiritual Gospel. (recorded in Eusebius, Eccl. Hist., 6.14.7)

I believe I have done a sufficient job elsewhere, but tersely, I understand John to be more similar to a Platonic dialogue than a Greco-Roman bios.

But, this is still not entirely accurate. A Platonic dialogue did not narrate the entire life of Socrates. Rather, it would be one event that was expanded into a lengthy dialogue with interlocutors. John, then, could be seen as categorically the same as the Synoptics with these philosophical dialogues injected into the plot.

Now, with the genre parameters established, what does that mean for historicity?

Historicity: Is the Theological Narrative Reliable?

Quite simply, these are not historical documents. There are significant differences in the tellings of Jesus’s life in the Gospels, so to conclude that they are strictly historical texts would miss the greater meaning of these works. Or, you must accept the contradictory nature of the documents.

For instance, the cleansing of the temple in the Synoptics happens at the end of the narrative just prior to the arrest and crucifixion of Christ, whereas in John, this event occurs at the beginning. In order to harmonize these differences, one would have to argue there were instances of this event. That is rather preposterous.

We then have minor glitches such as the color of Jesus’s robe at the mock coronation, scarlet in Matthew and purple in Mark. The significance of which pertains to the intent of each individual author, as I have written about here specifically concerning Mark:

One of the major chronological issues pertaining to the Synoptics and John is the number of trips Jesus makes to Jerusalem. Mark, Matthew, and Luke have Jesus travel but one time, yet Jesus enters the city on numerous occasions in John. What is most likely historical? This is difficult to determine, obviously, but John in my estimation presents a more probable scenario.

That said, the way in which Jesus teaches differs between John and the Synoptics. In Mark, Matthew, and Luke, Jesus speaks extensively in parables to cause confusion, while he also preaches, e.g., the Sermon on the Mount/Plains. John depicts Jesus as far more philosophical, speaking cryptically about theological developments from his own time. Which is more likely historical? I would wager that the Synoptics are closer to how the historical Jesus operated.

Does that mean there is a problem of historicity in the Gospels? Well, that depends. Is this question even appropriate to ask? If it is understood by the audience that these are documents written to convey primarily theological thought, the historical reality is only secondary. It is just a vehicle to transmit the author’s beliefs.

This is more abundantly obvious in John as I have argued, but I do believe each Gospel suffers from this dilemma. Not each and every detail or pericope is confined to a strictly historical event. I do believe that much of the Gospels are rooted in reality, but to say that every word and letter are meant to be taken as factual betrays what the Gospels are.

Purpose: Why Compose a Theological Story?

This, in turn, leads to purpose. What was the intent of the Gospel writers? To put it simply, it is to detail who they thought Jesus was—in the words of Peter, “You are the Christ.”

In order to explicate this description, each of the Evangelists had their own idea of who Jesus was, and they chose to highlight different features of his mission and what he meant for the salvation of the world.

There are obviously other topics of importance, e.g., discipleship, the church, ritual, etc., but each of these concepts ultimately orbit the conversation of who is the Christ.

This purpose, as such, is the most critical aspect to understand, not historicity. If we focus too much on what must have been, we will lose the forest for the trees. We should, rather, analyze each Gospel on their own and then compare that perspective with the others, understanding that Gospel inter-dependence is critical for comprehending aspects of these works.

Once we set all the Evangelists at the table, allow them to speak for themselves, and then put them in conversation with one another, we are, in turn, more capable of appreciating each for what they wished to convey. This can later lead to a more coherent theology, a step that proceeds the exegetical process.

Concluding Thoughts

For the faithful, a solution must be given for these paradoxical occurrences in the Gospels. I will not delve deeply into the conversation of infallibility or inerrancy for the NT; this article has not the space for it.

But, if we are to hold these beliefs, it is critical to specify what we mean by them. On a historical or narratively cohesive level, we must conclude that these terms cannot apply. The writers do not agree in the strictest sense of historicity.

This should not be troubling, nor should it invalidate the claims within these Early Christian texts for a number of reasons.

First, as we discussed, that is not the purpose of these documents. The impetus more is to say something about Jesus’s significance for humanity, as well as put forth who he was. This goes beyond history. It is commentary.

Contrived narratives such as the conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus in John 3 are intended to give an explication of a belief—here, the significance of Baptism. As for expansions, the extended dialogue concerning the Eucharist in John 6 is meant to provide a sacramental theology for a critical rite in the economy of Salvation. One a narrative creation, the other an expansion, both are authorial reflections on the life of Christ applied to the evolving Church.

If this is a standard hermeneutic of the Second Temple Period, the impetus is commentary, not history. Therefore, the expansions and creations should not be perceived as historical inaccuracies, for that is not the purpose.

The motivation lies outside of history, so to claim inerrancy is compromised would be problematic. As such, narrative shifts and changes between the Gospels are equally interpretive or explanatory for that particular Evangelist’s message; these cases of re-written Gospel again lie outside of the scope of history.

Second, perceived imperfections in a text should not lead to disqualification. This is especially the case when we consider the broken vessels God has used through Salvation History, e.g., a murderer like David or a liar like Abraham.

Statements and phrases, though seemingly said in error or with the wrong intentions can be the truth unknowingly. For instance, in John 11, Caiaphas is unintentionally prophetic,

|49| But one of them, Ca′iaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, “You know nothing at all; |50| you do not understand that it is expedient for you that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation should not perish.” |51| He did not say this of his own accord, but being high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus should die for the nation

Through bad intentions, prophecy is spoken.

And this understanding, in part, is required to have Jesus become the Messiah. When Isaiah and the Prophets wrote, they had no concept of Jesus. They wrote their prophetic messages with no knowledge of the incarnation. Their prophecies were intended for their time, but due to developments, they became applicable in the first century.

Without the hermeneutical and theological developments that occurred in the Second Temple Period, a historical-critical reading of Isaiah would not result in Jesus as the Christ. We as Christians must realize that God is the God of History, and he works within evolutions to achieve his ends.

History, literature, prophecy, and thought is not nearly as stable as we might think or desire. Over the course of thousands of years, we must realize the fluid nature of the literary and historical records we possess.

As such, any consternation we may feel when evaluating these uneasy results, should be assuaged by the reality of how Jesus became Lord within a literary tradition. It is through re-written Bible and historical & literary developments that such interpretations could have been accepted, and it is via re-written Gospel that Jesus tradition was able to further evolve to arrive at theological truth, to the meet the needs of ever-evolving ecclesial communities.

We develop our doctrines, our Faith, and our customs through similar means. The trinity and the hypostatic union, for example, are not explicitly taught in Scripture, but by reason and philosophy, the doctrine developed in order to reveal divine truth.

The purpose of this article has been to track a number of topics that culminate into an understanding of how we understand historicity in the Gospels. It is a far more complicated answer than everything is correct or there are errors, so the Gospels are suspect.

Rather, we must appreciate the Gospels for what they are. They are theological records, stories, narratives, and contrivances about the life of Jesus, meant to convey divine truth. This means that the purpose far outweighs the historical accuracy of what was recorded. As Coogan, “Gospels,” comments, “the experimental literary landscape of the Roman Mediterranean prominently thematizes questions of truth and fiction” (8).

The Gospel writers did not work with strict categories as we might assume today. We must also accept to some degree that fallible hands created these texts.

How we talk about and interpret these events transcend history and plumb a more convoluted subject, and this must be kept in mind when processing the words of the Evangelists.

When we think about “God-breathed” Scripture (2 Tim 3:16), does that mean historically perfect? For me, no, that cannot be the conclusion as per the examples above. When we discuss the sacred or divinely inspired, the inerrant truth must not pertain to these details. Rather, it is the revelation of God that must take center stage. As for 2 Timothy, inerrancy is not even the topic of the phrase, as I have shown.

The Word of God was still transmitted to humanity through the hands of imperfect humans, and the result is not exact precision in what we might assume or desire.

Rather, Scripture is a corpus of literature that was not planned out by any one person. The numerous authors composed over thousands of years. There was no roadmap for what was to be written. In fact, each text for Christianity has multiple levels of meaning and importance.

The confluence of all these ideas and readings come together to reveal perfection in the God-man Jesus. These records are not to convey historical truth but divine revelation. Once we appreciate this reality, the Gospels can then work as they were intended, to reveal the identity of who Christ was for humanity now and forever, not a bland historical account of what was.

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Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God (John 3:5)

I have written about this second passage extensively:

It is a liturgical event where we die and rise with Christ (Rom 6:4).

In the economy of salvation, though, is Baptism necessary? Does it save?

According to Mark 16:16, both belief and baptism are required,

He who believes and is baptized will be saved; but he who does not believe will be condemned.

Although there is certainly a connection between belief and baptism in Mark and John, is there a salvific quality the rite provides? According to 1 Peter 3, there is a direct connection between the flood waters of Noah and Baptism—both are salvific events.

In this brief exploration, I will illustrate that 1 Peter clearly has an idea that the early Christian ritual was necessary for salvation based upon Noah’s flood (Genesis 6–7) as a prefigurement.

Translation of 1 Peter 3:18–22

|18| Because, Christ also suffered (ἔπαθεν) once for sins—the righteous on behalf of the unrighteous (pl.)—in order that he might lead us to God, on the one hand having put on death in the flesh, but on the other having been made alive in the spirit.

|19| By this,1 he went to the spirits2 in prison and preached, |20| to those who were formerly disobedient at the time3 God’s patience waited in the days of Noah when the ark was built,4 in which a few—that is, eight souls—were saved through water,

|21| which5 is an antitype, and baptism now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the flesh, but as a request to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, |22| who is at the right hand of God, having gone to heaven, with6 the angels, authorities, and powers subject to him.

Commentary on the Translation

1 Peter 3:18–22 is a bit of a logical and grammatical mess. The point is fairly clear, but it is rather difficult to untangle and convey in English.

I chose to break this pericope into two sentences, but it really reads as one with numerous subordinate clauses—circumstantial participles and genitive absolutes—with numerous relative clauses. This is difficult to reflect coherently in English, but I believe I have retained the Greek syntax fairly well without losing meaning.

The main purpose of this section is to explicate what was just said previously with an example from Christ:

For it is better to suffer for doing right, if that should be God’s will, than for doing wrong. (RSV, v.17)

The true thesis is the first part of v. 18 that Christ, the righteous, did the right thing by suffering for the sins of the unrighteous.7

The text then trails off with what almost feels like a game of word association:

—> Christ is the prime example of Peter’s point: he did what was right—God’s will, suffering for sins—rather than doing wrong (start of v.18)

• So, he died in the flesh but was made alive in the spirit (v.18)

  • Since he is alive in the spirit, he went to the spirits in prison to preach to them (v. 19)

    • Those spirits were alive during Noah when the Ark was built (v.19)

      • Those few in the Ark were saved through the water (v.19)

        • Those salvific waters of the flood correspond to your baptism (water), which saves you—the flood waters were a prefigurement (v.20)

          • Conclude with Christological claims, i.e. the resurrection, which makes the baptismal waters salvific

—> “Since therefore Christ suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves with the same thought, for whoever has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin…” (4:1)

Baptism is not the focus of this passage.8 Rather, it is about doing good rather than evil. Peter does not necessarily lose his train of thought, but he does go down a number of rabbit holes while making this point.

The purpose of this particular article is to focus on one phrase in particular:

which is an antitype, and baptism now saves you…

The text clearly emphasizes that the flood waters saved Noah—a purification of the earth—just like the baptismal rite saved—cleansed—those addressed in the epistle. We will now explore some extra-Jewish literature to make this case, for Peter is not alone to conceptualize the flood as a cleansing event.

Genesis 6 and Rewritten Bible in the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha

Let us first start by examining the account in Genesis because it is critical to note important features of the original text for exploring later developments in Jewish thought.

These later interpretive works will then be examined. James Kugel calls these texts “Rewritten Bible” because they reflect the original accounts with interpretive changes. He explains,

Retelling, it should be said, was actually the preferred form of biblical commentary in this period. That is, instead of citing a particular verse and explaining its meaning (as our modern-day, and some ancient, commentators do), Second Temple writers preferred to retell the text, substituting for a problematic word or phrase one that would be understood by all readers... This form of writing (Jubilees is only one example) has been termed the “Rewritten Bible,” but it was almost never a rewriting for rewriting’s sake; by retelling the text in their own words, commentators were able to explain things and eliminate any perceived inconsistencies or problems.9

These developments in thought are significant because NT authors also adopted these interpretations. In many ways, we do not have Christianity without these hermeneutical evolutions.

Not only were the evolutions in how the OT was understood adopted by NT authors, but these techniques were as well.10

One easy example of this is the Epistle of Jude and how there are numerous references to extra-biblical literature and thought, which I have explored in a miniature commentary series:

As such, we will explore a number of passages from the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (OTP) and other literature in order to better understand what is happening in 1 Peter 3:20–21.

The Flood Account in Genesis 6–7

We will not explore the whole account; I want to focus solely on the reason for God wishing to cleanse the earth of wickedness and the flood.

The first mention of God’s desire starts in Gen 6:5–8,

|5| The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually… |7| So the Lord said, “I will blot out man whom I have created from the face of the ground, man and beast and creeping things and birds of the air, for I am sorry that I have made them.”

It is because of an increase of evil that God chooses to cleanse the earth. Though the word “cleanse” is not present, the act of flooding the earth will remove all of God’s creation, thus eliminating the wickedness.

God repeats this idea to Noah in 6:13,

I have determined to make an end of all flesh; for the earth is filled with violence through them; behold, I will destroy them with the earth.

The completion of God’s intent then gets detailed after Noah and his family are in the ark in 7:23,

He blotted out every living thing that was upon the face of the ground, man and animals and creeping things and birds of the air; they were blotted out from the earth. Only Noah was left, and those that were with him in the ark.

The emphasis of the Genesis account is removing all evil, wickedness, and violence from the earth. This idea is repeated numerous times, and the process is concluded with God’s promise to Noah when he makes a covenant with him in 8:21–22,

|21| And when the Lord smelled the pleasing odor, the Lord said in his heart, “I will never again curse the ground because of man, for the imagination of man’s heart is evil from his youth; neither will I ever again destroy every living creature as I have done. |22| While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease.”

In this final remark, God promises never to destroy the earth again. This is a seemingly negative occurrence, the flood, for it destroyed all life. Be that as it may, it removed all the wickedness and evil from God’s creation.

This should be remembered. It will be important for analyzing a number of OTP works and 1 Peter 3.

Jewish Texts on Noah’s Flood, a Cleansing Event

The flood in Genesis was not conceptualized as a negative or purely destructive event since it was designed by God to “blot out” the wickedness of the world. It was part of the divine plan, and it was an act God deemed necessary for humanity.

That, at least, is the implication of Genesis. He saved Noah and his family because Noah “found favor in the Lord’s eyes” (Gen 6:8) and he was a righteous man (v. 9). The entirely of the earth save for him were vile, and the world needed purification.

This interpretation can be seen in various Jewish and Christian texts outside of the New Testament.

The author of 1 Enoch explicitly states the purpose of the destruction:

|2| “[Sariel,] Go to Noah and say to him in my name, ‘Hide yourself.’/ and reveal to him that the end is coming, that the whole earth will perish;/ and tell him that a deluge is about to come on the whole earth and destroy everything on the earth...”

|20| “[Michael,] Cleanse the earth from all impurity and from all wrong and from all lawlessness and from all sin,/ and godlessness and all impurities that have come upon the earth, remove... |22| And all the earth will be cleansed from all defilement and from all uncleanness... (1 En. 10.2, 20–22, transl. VanderKam)

The text shows incontrovertibly that the author believed the purpose of the Flood was to cleanse the earth from all the wickedness produced by men, which included sin. He even expounds on what that evil is in more detail than the Genesis account.

In contrast, Jubilees 5.19, 21 has the ark as a vehicle of salvation for Noah from the flood,

|19| But to any who corrupted their way and their counsel before the Flood, he did not show partiality, except Noah alone, for he showed partiality to him for the sake of his sons whom he saved from the waters of the Flood…

|21| And he commanded Noah to make an ark for himself so that he might save himself from the water of the Flood… (transl. Wintermute)

Here, Moses needs savings from the water because it is a destructive force.11

The Book of Wisdom, too, has the wood as the instrument of salvation. Really, the focus is more on Wisdom than the ark, but the sentiment is closer to Jubilees than 1 Enoch:

When the earth was flooded because of him, wisdom again saved it,
steering the righteous man by a paltry piece of wood. (10:4)

This certainly does not negate the reading of 1 Enoch or how 1 Peter also reflects on what the Flood accomplished.

These texts show multiple ways in which the flood and the ark could be understood. 1 Peter 3:21 shows the thematic parallel with 1 Enoch, where the flood waters cleansed the earth from corruption.

The Testament of Adam also alludes to the flood as purifying:

You have heard, my son Seth, that a flood is come and will wash the whole earth. (3:5)

Philo, too, speaks of the flood in this way and connects it with ritual washings,

When the Creator took it to mind to cleanse the earth by means of water and decided that the soul [symbolized by the earth] should be purged of its unmentionable ill deeds and have its uncleanness washed away in the manner of a sacred purification… (The Worse Attacks the Better 170)

In these instances—sans Jubilees and Wisdom—the authors conceptualized the flood as a means of purification.

Pseudo-Clementine Homilies 8.17.4 and Origen (Contra Celsum 4.21) are two later Christian examples that demonstrate this interpretive tradition—the flood as a cleansing event—was held in the Early Church. Justin Martyr, though, emphasizes the wood of the Ark as the mode of salvation for Noah, though he does incorporate the importance of water, faith, and wood in salvation by Christ:

Now, since Christ was the First-born of every creature, He founded a new race which is regenerated by Him through water and faith and wood, which held the mystery of the cross (just as the wood saved Noe and His family, when it held them safely on the waters). (Dial. 138, transl. T. Falls)

This shows that there has always been diversity of thought when employing Noah and the Flood in both Early Judaism and Christianity. One final example, Tertullian, De bapt 8.4, compares the flood waters to baptism, and equates the ark to the Church. Variance in usage does not negate what is happening in 1 Peter 3.

Because of these interpretive traditions and fluidity of thought—authors commonly make appeals to biblical events to bolster their particular message—we must establish which vein of tradition Peter is implementing or the unique thought he is developing.

These Second Temple texts do no express the idea of Salvation, but they do emphasize cleansing and purification. This concept is critical for realizing what Baptism accomplishes according to Peter.

Now, as for 1 Peter 3, let us explore how the flood is functioning in the text and the implications it has for baptism.

Baptism and the Flood in 1 Peter 3

I have already explained the logic of how the verses progress, so that will not be repeated here. Rather, let us explore the reason for why Peter drew a parallel between the Flood and Baptism.

The text explicitly says it is the water, not the Ark, that saved Noah and crew. This concept in 1 Peter 3 resonates with the extra-Jewish literature from the previous section.12 The idea, here, is that Noah and his family were saved by the waters, not the ark: “a few—that is, eight souls—were saved through water.”

The only mention of the ark is a temporal reference, which comes before the salvific statement. For the parallel with the ark to be the focus in 1 Peter, salvation would have to be said to have come through it, but that is not the case. The text explicitly states it is through water that Noah and his family were saved.

How is the flood a salvation event? The implied understanding is akin to what we saw in the OTP; the Flood cleansed the world of impurity, wickedness, violence, sin etc.

The most natural reading here, in turn, is that the waters of the Flood which saved Noah is a prototype or a prefigurement for the waters of baptism, which is part of the salvation process for all believers.

As the waters of the Flood cleansed the earth, so the waters of baptism cleanse the believer.

The word “antitype” in 1 Peter 3:21 is meant to signify this connection, too. As BDAG explains (highlighted),

Church Fathers similarly implemented typologies to relate something from the OT to Christ. For example, Clement of Alexandria claimed,

And he is Isaac,… who is a type of the Lord: on the one hand, [he was] a child as a son (for he was the son of Abraham, as Christ [was] the Son of God)… (Paedagogus 1.5.23)

The Epistle of Barnabas also describes Isaac as a type,

…and he was intending to present the vessel of his spirit as a sacrifice on behalf of our sins, in order that the type that was established by Isaac, who was presented upon the altar, might be brought to fulfillment (7.3)

This is also a common NT device,13 for example Jesus is the New Adam (Rom 5:14) and the Exodus prefigured baptism and the Eucharist (1 Cor 10:1ff). Jesus is a New Moses in Matthew (cf. D. Allison, The New Moses), and Jesus is a New Isaac in John:

1 Peter similarly is making the claim that the waters of the Flood prefigured the waters of Baptism. As John Elliott, 1 Peter, 668–69, comments,

The parallel to v 20 in v 21 represents the first time in Christian thought that a correspondence (signaled by kai and antitypon) is drawn between the Flood and Christian baptism and, specifically, their correspondence as events of divine salvation…

The parallel terms for “save” provide explicit evidence that the correspondence concerns two analogous saving events: the earlier saving of Noah and his family (“a few—that is, eight persons—were saved through water”) and the present saving of the believers effected by baptism (“baptism now saves you too… through the resurrection of Jesus Christ”).

The salvific qualities of the baptismal rite are made even more explicit when the text explains the ritual is not a bath; it is not a removal of dirt from the body. There is something more occurring in the plunge for salvation. There is a ritual cleansing, an appeal for a good conscience.

This is not to say that Baptism is effective on its own, for it is through the resurrection of Christ that it is made effective. This is a topic that is too complicated for this present article, but I have explored it in John 3 already—link above.

Conclusion

In this quick exploration, I wanted simply to explore the connection between the Flood and Baptism in 1 Peter 3. It is abundantly clear in the text that Baptism is seen as part of the economy of salvation. The ritual is crucial and necessary in the normative practice of being saved within the Church.

Just like the flood cleansed the earth and saved Noah and his family, so Baptism offers a salvific cleansing for the believer.

If you have enjoyed this quick exploration of Baptism in 1 Peter 3 and wish to read more about the New Testament, would you kindly subscribe?

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Here is the abstract from the initial publication in Bibliche Notizen,

This article illustrates how Paul framed the ecclesial structure in 1 Corinthians through the image of a model Greco-Roman household. Although Paul is not as explicit with the power structure as in the Deutero-Pauline letters, the germ can be found in this epistle. I reveal that these ideals influenced Paul’s writing, and numerous aspects of the letter are best understood within the Greco-Roman frame work of proper hierarchy in the home.

Nota Bene: I am putting up a paywall for this article since it is one of my lengthier, more researched works. If you are a free subscriber, you have a lengthy preview of the article. The full piece will become available to all free subscribers a week after the initial publication date.

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The second article will be on the House Hold code found in Ephesians, which is a developed idea based on similar Greco-Roman cultural norms.

The third and final piece will be on 1 Clement since this text is highly dependent on this thought. I will show that Clement’s epistle to the Corinthians is a later evolution of these Greco-Roman concepts. In short, order and hierarchy have always been a critical component for harmony in the Church.

This idea is not something that evolved over time. Paul’s usage of the body as a metaphor in 1 Corinthians also illustrates this concept.

I. Introduction

The cosmology of the Greco-Roman world was defined by structure and hierarchy in every realm of life. Each institution was a microcosm of the grander universe, and everything was stratified, so that each person had a proper place. In this article, I show that Paul intentionally framed his appeal for unity in Corinth upon these ideas of cosmic hierarchy1 and proper order through the image of household management.2

By asserting that he is an oikonomos (οἰκονόμος) in 4:1, Paul established himself as the steward of the community. He was the estate manager charged to regulate the home and ensure that stability persisted. In v.1 he calls himself the community’s father. These seemingly paradoxical titles are best understood within the social context of Greco-Roman society, where slavery and household management were linked.3

Concerning the image of the household, I focus on Xenophon’s Oeconomicus.4 Although it is uncertain if Paul read this text—or any others referenced in this article—one can perceive potential parallels with Paul’s epistle in order to gain a better understanding of his argument.

Regardless of the audience’s or Paul’s direct knowledge of these documents, Paul was dealing with a realm of thought that was pervasive in the culture. Richard Horsley states,

According to principles of rhetorical analysis, the persuasive work that a speech or letter does is inextricable from its particular historical circumstances. Indeed, the communication or persuasion that takes place is a function of the contingent local people party to the communication and their background, circumstances, and interests.5

Since Paul was a product of his time, his arguments are largely contingent on many social constructs of his day.6 For Xenophon, everyone in the household had a role to play, and all members were reliant on one another to fulfil their duties. This model is also seen in the Corinthian body.

Paul, the oikonomos and father of the community, inculcated the idea of communal interdependence in order for the church to prosper. Paul desired to foster solidarity amongst difference in the congregation. By constructing his argument around the concept of a household, he rhetorically built a case for them to coexist in harmony.

This analysis begins with a brief survey of Greco-Roman conceptualizations of the household (oikonomia [οἰκονομία) and slavery (oikonomos [οἰκονόμος]). The second section includes a discussion of 1 Cor 4:1 and 9:17 and how these verses exemplify these Greco-Roman influences on Paul’s writing of the epistle since they pertain to oikonomia. Many scholars appeal to John Reumann as an authority on oikonomia in the New Testament, but his thesis on the subject is unsatisfactory, for the term has greater significance than just relating to God’s plan for salvation.

This article argues that Paul established the Corinthian church to resemble an ideal household that would have been found within the first century Greco-Roman world.7 He constructed this model to impart to the community the importance of hierarchy in the Church. Paul accomplished this by appealing to his status as the oikonomos, which harkens back to the notion of proper household management.

II. The Household and Slavery

By the first century, the structure of the cosmos was well-established in Greco-Roman thought.8 In this section, I illustrate how hierarchy, proper order, and the cosmos are interconnected in order to form a functioning entity through an examination of ancient conceptualizations of the home.

The household was influential in ancient thought because it

was the basic unit of society, and was a microcosm of the hierarchies operating in the wider society. The household included the immediate family and dependents of the householder, including, of course, his slaves.9

We will examine the divine's relation with humanity, household management, and slavery to demonstrate the ordering of the cosmos, since these aspects are prominent in 1 Corinthians.10

II.1 The Divine’s Involvement with Mankind

The gods and goddesses of classical mythology were considered integral in human affairs throughout ancient history, so all realms of life revolved around their direct involvement.11 Xenophon advises,

Know of a surety that right-minded men offer prayer for fruits and crops and cattle and horses and sheep, aye and for all that they possess (Oecon. 5.20 [Marchant, LCL])

This is also exemplified in Plato’s Symposium with regard to good and evil (181a, 183 d–e) and in Herodotus’s comments on homage to Pan (Hist. 6.106). The extensive interest of the gods in Homer’s Iliad and Hesiod’s Theogony and humanity’s reception of technē (τέχνη) from Prometheus (Aeschylus, PB 475–506) are all instances of the divine’s etiological role in the human sphere.12

Hierarchy and order are exemplified on Mount Olympus considering the structure of the mythos. Zeus is the father over all the gods and each god and goddess has his or her own realm of influence. There is even a sense of deities possessing a lower, subservient status, which Hephaestus represents when he serves the gods at the end of book one of the Iliad.

In theory, when all perform their specific function, the cosmos is in order. This model is akin to the paterfamilias and the empire, since the patriarch and emperor dictated the workings of the household and realm respectively. Stephan Joubert, Households, 213 writes,

A so-called “patriarchal religion” also took shape in the empire ever since Augustus (who officially acquired the title pater patriae in 2 BCE) became pontifex maximus in 12 BCE and associated his family gods with those of the state. Imperial rule now became an image of the divine rule since Jupiter was also regarded as the paternal guardian of the empire. His rule as father of the gods and mankind thus provided the analogy for the “patriarchal” reign of the emperors.

Similarly in 1 Corinthians, the Lord is the paterfamilias who is absent from the home (e.g., 4:5).

Thus, the gods were the paradigm of order, and it was believed that this order was exacted by humanity through proper imitation of the divine example. With respect to household duties, Xenophon claims the gods ordained what roles were proper for both men and women:

For it seems to me, dear, that the gods with great discernment have coupled together male and female, as they are called, chiefly in order that they may form a perfect partnership in mutual service… Now since we know, dear, what duties have been assigned to each of us by God, we must endeavour, each of us, to do the duties allotted to us as well as possible… If a man acts contrary to the nature God has given him, possibly his defiance is detected by the gods and he is punished for neglecting his own work, or meddling with his wife’s (Oecon. 7.18, 29, 31 [Marchant, LCL]).

Xenophon explains how to manage an estate efficiently. This deals with the relationship between a husband and his wife because the gods designed each gender to play a specific role in the home.13

Earlier in the dialogue, the interlocutors—Ischomachus and Socrates—discuss the hierarchy that exists in the family. In the midst of this discussion, Xenophon notes the strengths and weaknesses of the husband and wife. This leads into an explanation that a interdependent relationship is necessary so that the estate prospers:14

And just because both have not the same aptitudes they have the more need of each other, and each member of the pair is the more useful to the other, the one being competent where the other is deficient. (Oecon. 7.28 [Marchant, LCL]).15

This ideology also appears in the conceptualization of society and the body. Dale Martin, Body, 39 argues,

Like the private body, the public body is a hierarchy, with different members… assigned by Nature to positions in the body and to particular roles in the harmonious cooperation of the body’s parts.

Thus, when all parts work together for the betterment of the whole, all prosper. Where one lacks, another supplies.

II.2 Concerning the Household

The oikos (οἶκος) was the basic element of ancient society.16 Wayne Meeks, First Urban Christians, 39 comments,

The structure of the oikos was hierarchical, and contemporary political and moral thought regarded the structure of superior and inferior roles as basic to the well being of the whole society.

Proper order was exacted through social hierarchy where each individual knew his or her place in this cosmic play.17 Xenophon describes these interactions through multiple analogies in order to explain how the estate should operate. One parallel in particular illustrates that order is an intricate aspect of the household:

My dear, there is nothing so convenient or so good for human beings as order (taxis [τάξις]). Thus, a chorus is a combination of human beings; but when the members of it do as they choose, it becomes mere confusion, and there is no pleasure in watching it; but when they act and chant in an orderly fashion (tetagmenōs [τεταγμένως]), then those same men at once seem worth seeing and worth hearing (Oecon. 8.3 [Marchant, LCL]).18

He proceeds to explain the workings of bees, sea voyages, the military, and marriage to illustrate how everything functions in a similar orderly fashion.19 Everything is connected, and all things operate analogously in this worldview.20

To be a member of a household was to be part of a web of connections. Wayne Meeks, First Urban Christians, 30 defines the family,

not first by kinship but by the relation ship of dependence and subordination. The head of a substantial household was thus responsible for—and expected a degree of obedience from—not only his immediate family but also his slaves, former slaves who were now clients, hired laborers, and sometimes business associates or tenants.

Hierarchy prevailed in the familia where the pater is the ruling entity over those who are a part of his home.21

This aspect is an important facet of Greco-Roman society because, as Jane Gardner, Women, 5 explains,

the father (pater) was head of the familia, the basic social and property-owning unit. The familia under his control consisted of his children, whether living with him or not; his sons’ children, if any; his wife, if married with manus; and his slaves.22

Thus, a network of relations was created where the pater’s authority was over his own family and the offspring of his children and slaves.

II.3 Slavery in the Household

This study will include only a précis of rural-estate, male slavery in the Greco-Roman world since,

Most of the law relating to slaves could apply to persons of either sex, and need not be separately discussed… in practice female slaves were less likely than men to be employed in certain areas of activity, e.g., as bailiffs or agents (vilicae, actores) in rural estates.23

Additionally, there was no typical slave life in the ancient world. The life of a slave working in the mines was far different from that of a Senator’s slave. Some had great opportunities to learn extensively and had upward mobility in society, but that was not the case for most. Since our examination pertains to Paul as the oikonomos of the church, this analysis will explore how this role was understood in its Greco-Roman context.

Slavery was a great concern for the Romans because it was “the standard by which all else in society was measured and judged: a way of thinking about society and social categorisation.”24

In general,

The slave had no legal rights and was subject to the absolute power of the master. Slaves had no right to marry and their children belonged to the owner of the slave mother, yet slaves did form de facto marriages (contubernia), and inscriptions indicate some slaves were able to maintain family life.25

Even if the slave attained manumission, the now freedman still retained the stigma of having been a slave.26 Aristotle asserts that slaves were “living property” (Pol. 1.2.4–5), and that “the slave is a living tool and the tool a lifeless slave” (Eth. nic. 8.11). In summary, the slave was an intricate part of society who did not possess any legal standings independent from his master.27

Since slaves possessed no rights, they were largely dependent on their master. A slave’s role and responsibilities depended upon his master’s status. Their position in society became intricate with respect to business, and the power at the slave’s disposal became expansive if the master had been a notable citizen.28

Westermann, Slave Systems, 83 notes,

Under specific consent of his owner for a definite case or under a wider authorization which would include a given transaction a slave was able to deal in the master’s name (domini nomine) with third parties, either for the purpose of acquiring or of alienating property for his master. In such transactions the slave became a physical extension of his owner’s legal person, capable of acting as his owner might act and limited only by his incapacity to engage in fields where civil law forms prevailed… A slave or a free person might be appointed to act in a representative capacity, as an institor, who was legally recognized as authorized to engage in business with the property of his employer or master.

In many social realms slaves had power that was unique to them due to their association with a notable figure. In some cases, if the slave bore the name of a powerful master, he could wield more authority than if he had been free.29

Here, hierarchy plays an important role in the life of slaves. As Pseudo-Aristotle writes,

Of such administrations (oikonomia [οἰκονομία]) there are four main types, under which all others may be classified. We have the administration of a king; of the governors under him; of a free state; and of a private citizen” (Oecon. 2.1345B [Armstrong, LCL]).30

Each sphere functioned in this fashion. As the cosmos operates, so also the state, city, and family, and this hierarchical thought trickled down to the level of the slaves.

The role of the oikonomos in the home was paramount for proper estate management. This position was not the same in all instances, and not all were slaves; some were freedmen.31

The duties of the oikonomos ranged from being a public official, an official in the emperor’s household, or the representative of a private citizen.32 In many instances, this individual was more of a business agent who served his master in financial affairs.33 Recall, the slave was the extension of his master, and he could use the master’s authority as needed.34

Thus, “often a slave mentioned the senatorial or consular rank of the owner or gave the master’s title (for example, primipilus, the senior centurion of a legion).”35 A hierarchy was established within the slave community based upon rank and one’s master. These two factors were paramount, and it even led to some slaves possessing more power than that of a poorer non-slave.

III. The Household in First Corinthians

1 Corinthians reveals that Paul was raised in a Greco-Roman context, and the ideals discussed above weighed on his conceptualization of how the Church ought to be structured. The oikos was such a foundational element of Greco-Roman thought that it is no wonder Paul appealed to these ideologies.36

This analysis focuses on how Paul arranged the church in a hierarchical fashion in order to bring stability to an otherwise divided community. Since the oikos was a common metaphor, John Reumann’s analysis must be expanded to include a broader discussion of oikonomia in the New Testament.

My argument begins with 4:1 where Paul calls himself the household manager, the oikonomos. The following analysis confronts Reumann’s proposition and reevaluates the understanding of oikonomia for 1 Corinthians and the New Testament.37

III.1 Paul the Oikonomos (Οἰκονόμος)

In 1 Cor 4:1, Paul asserts that he and others are

servants (hypе̄retas [ὑπηρέτας])38 of Christ and stewards (oikonomous [οἰκονόμους]) of the mysteries of God. (RSV)39

Paul established himself as the household manager (oikonomos) of the community.40 A. Thiselton comments,

This office normally included responsibility for overseeing a household budget, purchasing, accounts, resource allocation, collection of debts, and general running of the establishment, but only as instructed within guidelines agreed by the employer or the head of the house.41

This shows the slave’s dependence on the master, but he still has the authority to do the master’s biddings.42 Since the slave was conceived as a natural extension of the master, he possessed the master’s title and power when conducting business affairs. Hence, the slave could serve as an emissary dictating the commands issued by the master; these are the mysteries that Paul and the apostles are commissioned to disseminate.43

In this passage, Paul has established the household of God wherein Paul has jurisdiction over the other “slaves” in the community.44

The text continues to expound on a number of characteristics that establish Paul as an authoritative slave. In v.2, Paul states,

In this matter, moreover, it is sought among oikonomois that they be found trustworthy/loyal (πιστός; Vulgate, fidelis).

Loyalty was a desired characteristic in antiquity when it came to managers because they regulated the estate and business affairs.45 For instance, Xenophon remarked:

It is delightful for you whenever you receive a maid who is unskilled (anepistе̄mona [ἀνεπιστήμονα]) in spinning and you make her skilled (poiе̄sе̄s epistе̄mona [ποιἠσῃς ἐπιστήμονα]) in it, and her worth doubles; and whenever you receive a maid who is unskilled (anepistе̄mona [ἀνεπιστήμονα]) in housekeeping (tamieias [ταμιείας]) and service (diakonias [διακονίας]) and you make her skilled in it, making her trustworthy (pistе̄n [πιστήν]) and serviceable (diakonikе̄n [διακονικήν]), you find her worth any amount… (Oecon. 7.41).46

From this the reader can see that trustworthiness was important for proper household management. Therefore, the master would invest in the proper upbringing of a trustworthy slave, since this person would be a managing member of the master’s business affairs. It is logical then that Paul would appeal to this characteristic since he is the Lord’s oikonomos.

Paul in vv. 3–5 states that the community has no right to judge him or one another. The church’s structure consists of Paul as the household manager and the congregants as common slaves. Thus, he is not subject to their critiques since they are all fellow slaves in Christ.47

As Pheme Perkins, Corinthians, 77 claims, “the οἰκονόμος had an authoritative role over the master’s other slaves (see Columella, De re rustica, 1.8.3).” In 6:20 and 7:23, Paul asserts that the Corinthians had been bought with a price (agorazо̄ [ἀγοράζω]), which was a term used for purchasing slaves.48

The use of oikonomos insinuates that there was hierarchy in the church similar to that of a household, and the Lord has commissioned Paul to regulate the home. The image continues in 4:4b–5 when Paul proclaimed that the Lord (their master) will judge them all, so all should refrain from judgment until he comes.

Paul has framed the discussion in a master-oikonomos-slave relationship where the Lord is the absent paterfamilias who has instructed Paul, the oikonomos, to watch over his house, the church.49

The image seemingly shifts in v. 15 when Paul then calls himself their father.50 Fitzmyer discusses the Greek in the first part of the verse concerning the Corinthians not having many fathers, even if they have many paidagо̄gous (παιδαγωγούς).51 He states that paidagо̄gos literally means “child-leader,” and then expounds on the background of the term. It relates to the oiketе̄s (οἰκέτης) of the ancient Greek world who was an elderly slave who would teach and mentor a young boy.

This slave “had a great deal to do with the character training of those of whom he was in charge.”52 Fitzmyer contends that the other Apostles are similar to the oiketе̄s for the Corinthian church because the community is not able to have many fathers, but they can possess a profusion of spiritual guides. The rhetorical technique thus shifts to Paul revealing that he alone begot (egennе̄sa [ἐγέννησα]) them through the Gospel, and so he alone has the authority as their father.53

One could criticize Paul that he has blurred the metaphor resulting in a paradox. At one moment, he calls himself a slave of Christ in order to establish his authority (4:1),54 but then he calls himself their father to make a similar claim (4:15).55 This shows that Paul saw himself as both their estate manager and father.

In connection with chapter three, Gordon Fee claims there is a shift in metaphors,

What is significant for this paragraph is the change of metaphors. In 3:5-9 the word diakonoi was used, emphasizing the servant nature of their task under God, with secondary emphasis on the division of labor. Now the metaphor changes to that of a house hold.56

There is no shift in metaphor for it all falls under the analogy of the oikos.57 In three, Paul speaks of their position generally, but in four Paul makes clear their rank. The idea of a “division of labor” is accurate when one considers 12:1–11, 27–31, where Paul enumerated spiritual gifts and ranked them.58

Paul can appeal to his status as Christ’s slave while simultaneously being their father, for this model is seen in the ancient world.59 I discussed the notion of the familia previously wherein the pater is the head of his own nuclear family and all those born from his children and slaves.60

Paul is working within a framework in which God the Father is the paterfamilias of the church with Christ as his Son.61 Paul is then an oikonomos of this church who is simultaneously the father of his own community, the Corinthians.62 Based upon Paul’s dual role as father and estate manager, the members of the community are concurrently both Paul’s “children” and “slaves” of the Lord’s household.63

Lastly, let us consider the nature of Paul’s status as a slave, specifically the instructions that Paul dictated in chapter seven.64 In v.10 Paul states,

But to those who are married I give an instruction (paraggellō [παραγγέλλω])—not I but the Lord—women, do not be separated from your husband.65

The actual assertion matters little for my proposition; the important aspect relates to the instruction Paul claimed the Lord wanted him to relay to the community. The message is conveyed through Paul, his slave.66

On a similar note, Paul expresses in v.25,

Now concerning virgins, I have no command (epitagе̄n [ἐπιταγήν]) from the Lord, but I give my opinion since I have been shown mercy by the Lord to be trustworthy/loyal (pistos [πιστός]; Vulgate: fidelis).67

The sense of v. 25 shows that Paul, as the Lord’s emissary is a trustworthy slave who is worthy of bearing his master’s title.68 He feels entitled to disclose his own opinion as a command due to his status as the oikonomos. The need to appeal to his authority is again shown in v. 40 when he claims he has the Spirit of God.

The idea behind these verses is contingent on Paul’s status as the slave who regulates the home while the master is away.69 He wants a community that conforms to the ancient ideal household in order to promote unity. Like the household, the church will thrive when is is properly ordered.70

III.2 Paul Entrusted with Oikonomia (Οἰκονομία)

Margaret Mitchell persuasively refuted the notion that chapter nine disrupts the argument presented between chapters eight and ten, demonstrating that the three chapters resemble the genre of Greco-Roman homonoia speeches. In her view, the thesis of the epistle is contained in 1:10,

But I beseech you, brothers and sisters, through the name of our Lord Jesus Christ that you all say the same things, and that schism be not among you, but that you all be complete in the same mind and the same purpose.71

Paul appeals to their Lord/master, and he then encourages the community to be united. The purpose of this epistle is to instill solidarity in a divided community. This concord is achieved predominately through two metaphors in the epistle: the oikos72 and the body.73

The discussion of 9:17 in most commentaries fails to explicate the exact meaning Paul wished to convey with his use of oikonomia (οἰκονομία). For instance, Gordon Fee submits:

His point is that if his labor is not voluntary, as in v. 16 has made clear, then he is not entitled to pay. He makes that point with a metaphor previously used in 4:1. His apostleship is similar to that of a “steward” (usually a slave) who has been “entrusted with” managing a household. Such a person is entitled to no pay, which is exactly the point he will make in the next verse, and therefore is the reason for these two sentences.74

Thiselton simply states, “It is almost, as it were, like being within a given management chain (οἰκονομία), to which Paul also alludes in 4:1.”75 Both succeed in making a connection to 4:1,76 but fail to identify this idea with the overall logic of the epistle.77

Paul implemented the term in order to show that he was an estate manager, an elite slave, commissioned by God, which is why he cannot receive wages (misthos [μισθός]) for his duties:78

For if I do this voluntarily, I receive a wage (misthos [μισθός]); but if unwillingly, I have been entrusted (pepisteumai [πεπίστευμαι]) with household management (oikonomian [οίκονομίαν]) (9:17).79

This sentence illustrates Paul’s role as an oikonomos since slaves were unable to receive a wage. Paul has revealed that he performs his duties involuntarily since he is one of the Lord’s managerial slaves.80

This is furthered in v.19 when Paul claimed that he has enslaved himself. This is an indication that he voluntarily sold himself into slavery to God for the promulgation of the Gospel.81

When the topic of oikonomia arises, many appeal to John Reumann, who insufficiently explains what the term signifies in the New Testament:

οἰκονομία is a rare but important New Testament word denoting God’s plan of salvation.82

His article expounds on the use of oikonomia by the Early Church Fathers, which is then used as a lens for comprehending the word’s meaning in the New Testament. This approach fails to wrestle with the context of the household.

In an earlier article, Reumann interacts with Greco-Roman texts, but he does so from the standpoint of religious cults. While intriguing, this deals little with the home, which has the stronger parallel; there is only a brief appeal to the divine household that is not developed.83

Reumann also fails to discuss adequately the other instances in which oikonomia is used. Oikonomia appears only nine times in the New Testament (Luke 16:2, 3, 4; 1 Cor 9:17; Eph 1:10; 3:2, 9; Col 1:25; 1 Tim 1:4), and each instance relates to estate management. If the reader examines these pericopes within their respective contexts, then it becomes apparent that the ancient notions of oikonomia are crucial for understanding the structure of the argument. This idea of “divine plan” is inadequate for understanding this passage because oikonomia is technical language.

Dale Martin touches on this topic insofar as it bolsters his thesis, but he refrains from illustrating how the household functions in 1 Corinthians. He asserts that the Corinthians are slaves who belong to Christ based upon the language Paul employed. Martin appeals to the image of the household, noting that slaves passed from one home to another in the Greco-Roman world, parallel to how Paul described conversion.84

Later, Martin identifies the meaning of oikonomia “with the management of a household and, by extension, the management of businesses, cities, states, and governments.”85 His focus pertains to the oikonomos and salvation rather than with the household structure and ecclesial configurations. His attention to the topic is paramount because the slave was constitutive to the household, and Paul depicted himself as a slave in God’s oikos.86

The body was an excellent metaphor for expressing how society and the home function, and many from antiquity appealed to this metaphor. Dale Martin asserts,

Use of the human body as an analogy for human society is ancient and widespread. The microcosm of the body was used to explain how unity can exist in diversity within the macrocosm of society.87

This study will explicate chapter twelve, which precedes the body metaphor. The impetus behind this chapter was to engender solidarity in a diverse community. 12:4–11 identifies the gifts that have been imparted to the congregants, all of which are centered around the Lord. The thesis of the section appears in v. 5b–6:

…and there are a variety of gifts, and the same Lord; and there are a variety of gifts, but the same God who works all things in everything.

Recall the idea in ancient households where the gods partitioned to each man and woman tasks to perform for the betterment of the estate. This is supported further in 7:17 where Paul claims,

Except, as the Lord apportioned (emerisen [ἐμέρισεν]),88 and as God called (keklе̄ken [κέκληκεν]) each, thus, let each live; and so this I command (diatassomai [διατάσσομαι]) in all my churches.89

These sections contain the idea that the Lord allotted to each their place in the community, each with a particular gift that is necessary for prosperity.90

The end of this discussion concerns the building up of the community based upon two lexically related words, oikodomе̄ (οἰκοδομή)91 and oikodomeō (οἰκοδομέω).92 Oikodomе̄ occurs in 3:9; 14:3, 5, 12, 26 and oikodomeō in 8:1, 10; 10:23; 14:4, 17. These terms are semantically related in 1 Corinthians and are etymologically linked with both oikonomia and oikonomos—house (oikos) based language.

Paul employed such terms because they are lexically associated with the word oikos.93 Since Paul exhorted the community in 1:10 to be unified, he wished to relativize everything with one slogan in mind: is this good for church unity? This is essentially stated in 10:23:

All things are permitted, but all things are not expedient (sumpherei [συμφέρει]); all things are permitted, but not all things are edifying (oikodomei [οἰκοδομεῖ]).

Paul previously discussed the destructive nature of eating meat sacrificed to idols in chapter eight, and he began subtly with an exhortation pertaining to oikodomе̄ in chapter ten, which is right after his discussion of oikonomia in chapter nine.

The exhortation comes to fruition in chapter fourteen where the majority of these occurrences appear. Chapter thirteen conditions this discourse with the theme of love, which is witnessed at the outset of the argument in 8:1, “Knowledge puffs up, but love edifies (oikodomei [οἰκοδομεῖ]).94

Paul encourages them to pursue love because it is what will ultimately bind the community together. This is vital for an estate to run in its intended manner. In chapter fourteen, Paul fulfils his role as the oikonomos, for it is here that he designates the proper way in which the people are to use their gifts.

Vv. 26–40 structure the order of worship and instils in the community how people should conduct their service.95 This seemingly odd directive makes perfect sense in the realm of hierarchy and order in the ancient mindset.96 That is why Paul claims in v. 40,

but let all things be done presentably (euschе̄monōs [εὐσχημόνως])97 and according to proper order (taxin [τάξιν]).98

This ties together all the strands. Paul wished for concord, and this is attained by building up one another through the proper administration of gifts in the community.99 Once all the members work together for the edification of the estate/body/community, the master will be well-pleased.

IV. Conclusion

In Paul’s view, without proper order existing in the body, the church will fail. Paul, as the house manager, equipped with the power and authority of Christ, maintained the house he had established. The appeals to estate management and the hierarchy of the home are salient in the epistle; Paul rhetorically encouraged the community to become united under one roof through contemporaneous mores of the Greco-Roman home.

This idea persisted throughout the course of the nascent Church’s history, which can be seen in the Deutero-Pauline epistles. Wayne Meek notes,

In time, in circles that appealed to the memory of Paul as an authority, whether or not they stood in any concrete social continuity with the Pauline mission, the whole church would be constructed as “the household of God,” with great stress upon the hierarchical order of the various roles peculiar to the ecclesiastical organization.100

Paul’s influence went beyond the first letter to the Corinthians. By fulfilling his role as the oikonomos, he ensured the survival of God’s household by imbuing his communities with hierarchy and proper order until his master’s return. Thus, it is fitting that Paul closed the letter as such: “If someone loves not the Lord, let him be anathema. Our Lord, come!” (16:22).

These same concepts are found in both Ephesians and 1 Clement. I plan to release two more articles on this topic focusing on these two other writings, which are dependent on Paul’s thought in 1 Corinthians.

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I was certainly wrong about that. The discourse of John 6 was by far the weightiest of these three narratives—and I cut that analysis short.

As such, I have hit on many relevant topics in the first two articles on sacramental readings of John, so it might be helpful to have read them first:

Nota Bene: This is the first article where I am putting up a paywall. If you are a free subscriber, you have approximately a 5,000 word preview, ~40% of the article. The full piece will become available to all free subscribers a week after the initial publication date.

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Perhaps one day I will reorganize and compile this into a more systematized work on John as a sacramental Gospel. I have currently been assembling this puzzle in short segments, and it all must be read together to see the full picture.

In this present study, I will obviously be focusing on John 3 as an exposition of Baptism and its significance. This will be done by starting with an analysis of the introduction to the Gospel (John 1:1–28). The first chapter of John establishes many key themes necessary to understand what is happening in John 3, but it is also significant for the other sacramental pericopes I have already explored.

(Again, this is why this work should have been first. Alas).

John 3:1–21 will then be the focus of the study, analyzing key aspects for understanding the sacramental significance of the exchange.

The following narrative—the differing Baptisms of Jesus and John the Baptist (3:22–30)—plays a critical role for understanding the exchange between Jesus and Nicodemus, so I will have a brief section on this pericope. The placement of this account is not accidental; it is intended to highlight that Jesus was just discussing the rite of Baptism with Nicodemus.

The final aspect of this analysis concerns Jesus as the one who came down from heaven (John 3:31–35). This authorial comment adds further explanation of the exchange with Nicodemus while simultaneously anticipating the eucharistic reading of John 6. The passage plays a critical role for understanding the flesh-spirit dichotomy in John, too, so it must be examined.

Ultimately, these two rituals—baptism and the eucharist—were inexorably linked to the Evangelist; participation in these rites were necessary for attaining eternal life and abiding in Christ.1 So, it is only natural that these theological reflections have significant points of contact.

Before we dive into John 3, I want to address two topics that are paramount for framing this study: the genre of John and the usage of the word “Sacrament.”

The Genre of John

I had a brief note on this topic in my initial post on John 6, and I think it bears repeating because John 3 has clear narratorial commentary. John 1 for that matter has explicit and obvious authorial contemplation baked into the presentation of the Word becoming flesh—the incarnation.

It is foundational to establish genre because this informs how the reader should approach a text. If one is reading a political satire, and the reader takes it as a historical account, the person will walk away with the wrong message. To make a ludicrous example, if you were to read Animal Farm and believe this to be a real—rather than fanciful—story of farm animals, you have missed the point entirely.

As for the Gospel of John, it is not a gospel characteristically when compared to the Synoptics—Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Those Gospels are more similar to a Greco-Roman bios where an author wishes to discuss the life and teachings of a person in order to make a case for something.2

John is a bit of a different animal. He does not have Jesus speak and teach like the Jesus of the Synoptics who talks in parables and performs miracles. Yes, the miracles are still present, but Jesus is far more philosophical, and he speaks far more theologically in discourses than he does in the Synoptics. He is a bit less cryptic, yet crowds still fail to understand. John’s voice also erupts into the text frequently, which muddies the waters.

In contrast to Matthew, Mark, and Luke, I read John more in line with Platonic dialogues where you have a character—Jesus—discussing topics of a later generation. I hold that John was composed long after the synoptics, probably as late as AD 100, if not 110, because the gospel shares so many concerns with contemporary writers of the early 2c.3

This is not to say that there are no historical nuggets within the Fourth Gospel, but the impetus for his composition was not history. Rather, the Evangelist wished to discuss his theology and his beliefs as they pertain to the late first, early second century, and he chose to do so while describing Jesus’s life and mission.

For example, the Gospel of John has Jesus cleanse the Temple at the beginning of his ministry (John 2:13–22), whereas the Synoptics have it happen near the end (Matt 21:12–17//Mark 11:15–19//Luke 19:45–48). Jesus has a Passover meal in the Synoptics (Matt 26:17–30//Mark14:12–26//Luke 22:7–38), whereas in John it is just a final supper since he changes the time when Jesus dies—the Day of Preparation (John 19:14).

It is quite similar to how Plato placed his voice in Socrates’s mouth. There are certainly teachings of Socrates present in these texts, but there is plenty of Plato present, especially in the later dialogues. So in John, we have a document where Jesus is put in various scenarios—some historical, some likely contrived—in order to discuss a theological topic. In our present case, the ritual of baptism is John’s focus.4

Thus, there are multiple levels of reading the Gospel of John. The narrative level and the audience level. Christopher Skinner, Reading John, 34 puts it well:

Scholars have long recognized that the Gospel of John is a two-level drama, operating similarly to what I have described above. At its most basic level, John’s Gospel recounts one version of Jesus’ origins, life, vocation, and death, while beneath the surface is a story of the community for whom the gospel was originally written.5

There is more to the Fourth Gospel than just a narrative detailing Jesus’s life and death. There is simultaneously a meta-discussion aimed at communicating themes, ideas, and theology for Christians of a later generation.

Establishing the genre in this way is not to place doubt on the historical reality of Jesus. But, it is to refocus how we read the Gospel of John, at least a bit. As I said in my John 6 article, if this is not your cup of tea, you may discard the discussion. If each and every word and action of Christ in this narrative are purely from history, that does not weaken my case.

From the evidence within the text, though, I do believe there is more going on here than a strict recording of the events in Jesus’s ministry. There are significant theological beliefs John wished to impress upon his readers, which includes the rites of baptism and the eucharist,—both of which culminate with Christ as king and the paschal sacrifice—and he achieved this end by means of philosophical stories.

The Usage of “Sacrament” and the Historical Problem of “Anti-Sacramentalism” in John

I would be remiss if I did not reserve a modicum of space dedicated to language and concepts when approaching these ideas in the New Testament. First and foremost, I am a historian and a critical exegete. By this, my intention for writing is to extract from a text the author’s original intent regardless of my own particular religious sentiments. It is a difficult practice, to be fair, but it is something we historical-critical exegetes strive to achieve.

In turn, I want to address briefly my use of “Sacrament” in this text and the two other articles I have composed on John and the Eucharist. I employ the word “Sacrament” as a bit of linguistic convenience. I do not believe the NT writers had a full-blown sacramental theology of the Medieval period where transubstantiation is assumed in the text—that would be preposterously anachronistic.

The implementation of the word “Sacrament” is for simplicity because we all generally comprehend what I mean by this term. What is clear from the evidence, Early Christians were deeply concerned with ritual, and the two most important rites or practices were Baptism and the Eucharist. I have argued that Paul and John in particular had a clear and distinct understanding that something more is happening in the Eucharistic practice than just a snack.

A. D. Nock summarizes my position on the usage of this word and the general idea of these practices in the first century well,

...we have all grown up with the category of sacraments as things of a specific kind; we are all aware of the centuries of controversy about their meaning and number. There was no such category in the first century of our era and even in the fifth century what we call sacraments were not set sharply apart from other aspects of the Christian revelation. Then, as in the first century, baptism and the Eucharist were part of the whole economy or dispensation of salvation... To isolate what we have come to think of as the sacraments is to misunderstand them and to misunderstand the whole early Christian movement.6

This article and a few recent conversations with a colleague and friends have inspired a lengthier piece on historicity of the Gospels, so I will keep this section brief. It is critical when approaching an ancient text to lay aside our presuppositions and attempt to read as if we are in the time period when the document was composed. A difficult task it can be, but it is something we must attempt to do. The purpose and function of these narratives may not be what we expect, and it is paramount to read these as the author intended.

Now to transition to a practical application, I mean to address the “Anti-Sacramental” position that has become more prolific in low church protestant sects—e.g., evangelicals/baptists, such as D. A. Carson, whom I addressed in a footnote on John 6—whose roots lie in Rudolf Bultmann’s work on the Fourth Gospel. I will not detail this greatly, but in short, Bultmann held a more extreme position that John is a text dedicated to dismantling the rise in sacramental or ritual developments in the Early Church—baptism and the eucharist.

David Aune has an excellent article refuting this position, “The Phenomenon on Early Christian ‘Anti-Sacramentalism,’” wherein he goes through Early Christian data, and illustrates how tenuous this theory is. He summarizes Bultmann’s biased position harshly, writing,

The total absence of any evidence regarding the criticism of sacramentalism in early Christianity makes it more than probable that the attribution of such a stance to the Fourth Evangelist is in reality the infusion of the values of a modern existentialist Lutheran rather than a historically valid interpretation of the thought of the Fourth Evangelist. (213, emphasis my own)

This encapsulates the difficulty for historians. We come heavily burdened by our own philosophies and presumptions that we frequently unload our bias onto the text, wishing to validate ourselves and our positions. I may be accused of this now in my articles on John 3, 4, and 6, but I have attempted to situate these writings as best I can in the early 2c. when they were likely composed.

As I have shown with the Eucharist I will do now with Baptism, that to reject a sacramental reading in John is historically irresponsible. I will only deal with the internal data within John because this article is already 13,000+ words, but the anti-sacramentalism in Early Christianity is sparse—at least in our literary records.

In order to hold an anti-sacrimentarian position, one must confidently argue that John was on an island. The Fourth Evangelist was a pioneer, writing against the universal Church. Additionally, this would go against our entire literary witness of how Baptism was discussed as well as how the Gospel of John was interpreted.7

Aune reviews this ancient material well, but Everett Ferguson also has a comprehensive work that shows how significant the practice was in antiquity, Baptism in the Early Church: History, Theology, and Liturgy in the First Five Centuries. The data undeniably shows how crucial Baptism was for Early Christians, and the Church has always taught something spiritual occurred in the baptismal plunge.

These rituals—Baptism and the Eucharist—were significant not only in Early Church writings, but the NT itself attests to their spiritual and salvific importance.

I. The Flesh and Spirit Paradox in the Gospel of John (1:1–18)

The beginning of John establishes many necessary elements for comprehending what follows in the text. John 1:1 grounds the importance of typology, allusion, and OT prefigurement. With just three words, in the beginning,—two in Greek—the Fourth Evangelist evokes the Genesis account of creation,

Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἐποίησεν ὁ θεὸς τὸν οὐρανὸν καὶ τὴν γῆν

In the beginning, created God, heaven and earth. (Gen 1:1 LXX)

Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ λόγος, καὶ ὁ λόγος ἦν πρὸς τὸν θεόν

In the beginning, was the Logos, and the Logos was with God

I rendered Gen 1:1 awkwardly, retaining the Greek syntax, in order to show the syntactical parallels between the two texts: Identical prepositional phrase-verb-subject.

The Fourth Evangelist wants the creation account in Genesis to be on the reader’s mind.8 This establishes the divine Logos as both God9 and a participant in creation—an action that is part of the divine prerogative.

More significantly, the Logos should not be perceived as a written word. Rather, the Logos is something that is spoken, for God spoke, and creation occurred (cp. Gen 1:3, 6, 9, 14, 20, 24 [καὶ εἶπεν ὁ θεός]). This further adds to the creative properties that Jesus has in the introduction. Not only this, but other documents describe creation with the logos,

By the word of the Lord (λόγῳ τοῦ κυρίου) the heavens were made,/ and all their host by the breath [or, spirit] of his mouth (πνεύματι τοῦ στόματος). (Ps 33:6 [32:6 LXX])

O God of my fathers and Lord of mercy,/ who hast made all things by thy word (λόγῳ)... (Wis 9:1)

The appeal to words and voice throughout the Gospel, I offer, are dependent upon this concept, that Jesus is a creative force because of his connection with Genesis 1 and traditions related to the Psalms and Wisdom of Solomon.10

For our study, this is a common feature of John’s Gospel. The Fourth Evangelist will allude to OT stories, sometimes subtly, as prefigurements in order to reflect on how Jesus revealed his glory in his earthly ministry.

Not only that, but he wants to situate the Christ as pre-existent. He was involved with creation. He has a spiritual, divine quality about him—“God is Spirit” (πνεῦμα ὁ θεός, 4:24).

Before we move to John 3, we must first explore a number of foundational elements in chapter 1 because these will illuminate some nebulous and often misunderstood aspects that appear in the exchange between Jesus and Nicodemus:

1. The Divine Logos, the Spirit, and the Flesh

2. Born—not of blood—to become Children of God & Belief

3. OT Prefigurements

4. Christ’s Glory

Each of these aspects in the introduction to the Gospel will play their part in order for a proper exegetical analysis to occur in chapter 3.11 These foundational elements also make the narrative more intelligible when contemplating what the Fourth Evangelist wished to discuss concerning the early Christian rituals, Jesus’s sacrifice, and what it means to abide in Christ. All of these strands are woven together in the mind of John.

1. The Divinity of the Logos, the Implications of the Spirit, and the Word Becoming Flesh

First and foremost, there is no occurrence of the spirit in the introduction to John (vv. 1–18); the first appearance comes from John the Baptist’s mouth (vv. 32–33). There are many significant themes and repeated words critical in the Gospel,—e.g., light/darkness, flesh, glory, grace—but shockingly the Spirit is not mentioned.

This is surprising considering how crucial this concept is for the Fourth Evangelist.

I posit that this is an intentional omission. The start of the Gospel is about the Logos and its close relationship with God—with him in the beginning and an active participant in creation. The Logos is, ergo, not of the flesh (ontological). That is the implication of the framework established in the first few verses. The Divine Logos comes from above, another phrase the Evangelist avoids here (spatial).

These ontological and spatial descriptors peppered throughout the Gospel may be absent, but the germ of both concepts is present. And, that is what is significant.

In v. 11, John notes that the word came “to what was his own,” yet they rejected him—that is, the Jews. This then sets up the familial framework that we will discuss later in chapter 1, which has critical thematic connections with chapter 3.

Shortly after this, the text reads (1:14),

And the Word became flesh (σὰρξ) and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth; we have beheld his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father.

This reveals both the otherness—the Logos is not originally flesh—and the spatial distance—the Logos did not originally dwell among us.

Noting that the Logos became flesh (sarks, σὰρξ), indicates the Word is ontologically something other. We humans are made of flesh, so the ontological characteristic that is put in contrast is the spirit. Though this is not stated in the first 18 verses of the Gospel, the implication is obvious when considering how this distinction is made throughout.

John does not delineate this in chapter 1; he reserves the discussion for later, e.g., John 6:63,

It is the spirit (πνεῦμά) that gives life (ζῳοποιοῦν), the flesh (σὰρξ) [benefits nothing (ὠφελεῖ οὐδέν)]; the words (ῥήματα) that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.

The contrast is apparent in chapter 6, so the logical implication is that if the Logos took on flesh, it must be something ontologically distinct. At the same time, the Word is both flesh and spirit in the incarnation, making the Logos an ontologically unique being12—to use perhaps an imprecise word—for John.13

I have argued this in the two other pieces that this statement in 6:63 is not meant to be read as a denial of the physical. Were that the case, the Logos would not have taken on flesh in order to reveal the Father (1:18)—the text would otherwise be docetic or gnostic, depending. This would be a narrative contradiction; John wishes to live in a paradox, which I will expound upon later.

We see the hints here in the introduction of the Gospel that there is a dichotomy in understanding what the flesh and the spirit can accomplish. It is the physical that is energized by the spirit that will make the rituals—baptism and the eucharist—efficacious.

This anticipates later discussions in the Gospel, so we will leave this here for now. What we should take from this first chapter, though, is the establishment that the Spirit and the Flesh are two separate categories, but the Logos—something positioned in the ontologically spirit category—took on something foreign to itself, the flesh.

2. Re-birth in John 1

Being born again or from above does not originate in John 3. The idea is introduced at the beginning of the Gospel, and the idea is connected with why the Word became flesh.

After stating the Logos came into the world, John establishes a familial framework by stating that Christ was rejected by his own people, the Jews (v. 11).

John then introduces the concept of being born into God’s family,

|12| But to all who received him, who believed (πιστεύουσιν) in his name, he gave power to become children of God; |13| who were born (ἐγεννήθησαν), not of blood nor of the will of the flesh (σαρκὸς) nor of the will of man, but of God.

We will explore this more when we examine John 3, but the word for born in v. 13 is the same used when Jesus tells Nicodemus he must be born from above (3:3, γεννηθῇ ἄνωθεν). Adoption into God’s family is firmly established in the introduction to the Gospel.

In vv. 12–13, there are a number of crucial elements to notice:

1. The importance of belief to become children of God

2. To be born—not of blood

3. The distinction of spirit and flesh

The necessity of belief for the action to be efficacious is made clear. One can only be born into the family of God, as one of His children, if you have belief first. This concept was explored in my two previous articles, specifically,

This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent. (6:29)

Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony... (4:39)

In chapter 6, eternal life is contingent upon this belief. This is why it is critical at the end of the pericope that many do not believe, and they abandon the Christ (6:64). Without this belief, one cannot be re-born as a child of God.

Now, as for this birthing process, the introduction to the Gospel does not detail how this happens. This is reserved for John 3, and I just wish to establish the basis for this concept.

Is this birth, then, from a woman? John specifically rejects this idea stating it is not from the will of the flesh,14 which once again underscores this distinction between flesh and spirit. This should not be read as a denial of the physical as I have been arguing, for that would be a gnostic understanding, which the Evangelist does not embrace. This becomes even more apparent in John 3 and 6. There is a deep connection between the two ontological categories via the incarnation of the divine Word.

With these two verses, though, John has begun to pave the way for understanding how one becomes a child of God. It is in the discussion with Nicodemus that John has Jesus expound more fully on how this happens and how it is connected with Christ’s death and sacrifice.15

3. Establishing the Importance of Old Testament Allusions, References, and Prefigurements

John relies heavily on the OT for making his theological statements. In each and every pericope we have explored in this 3 part series, I have emphasized how reliant the Evangelist is on the OT.

In chapter 1, as we have already noted, John alludes to Genesis 1:1 to introduce the Christ, the divine Logos.

The importance of the OT for formulating his thought is made more explicit in 1:17,

For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.

This dichotomy is not meant to denigrate Moses, Jewish history, or the OT. Rather, the Fourth Evangelist merely states the law came through Moses as a foundational element necessary so that grace and truth might come through Christ. The syntactical parallelism is important for driving home this concept:

These are not accidental moves by the Evangelist. He establishes the point through identical syntactic phrasing.

John is deeply reliant on the OT for expressing prefigured concepts. By this, I mean that John sees OT tropes as fulfilled in Jesus Christ so that “grace and truth” might come to humanity, and with it eternal life and salvation.

I explored these concepts specifically in John 4 with Abraham’s servant and Rebekkah and in John 6 with the manna from heaven.

Without the law of Moses, the OT figures, and works of God in Jewish history, the salvific sacrifice could not be possible, so the partaking in early Christian ritual for eternal life would also be impossible.

4. The Death of Christ, the Revelation of his Glory

I will not delve too deeply into this topic here, for my senior thesis from Princeton Theological was on this topic, specifically on Jesus as an “only son” of God as an Isaac typology—I have uploaded it in 2 parts on SubStack. This also gels with my research on Mark 6–8,—especially since I believe John knows Mark—which I am continuing to develop and publish here.

In short, Jesus’s glory is fully revealed on the Cross because it is his sacrifice as the (paschal) lamb of God for the remission of sins. This is similar to the revelation of glory in Mark with Jesus on the Cross.

Anything John discusses in his Gospel is contingent upon this act, for it is the reason why Christ took on flesh; it is his work. As our work is to believe, Christ’s is to die. It is what makes all the rituals that we have discussed pneumatically infused, and we will continue this line of thought as we delve more deeply into chapter 3.

5. A Contrast of Baptisms

A final point in chapter one that I would like to make is based upon what John the Baptist says about his baptism,

|26| I baptize with water (ὕδατι); but among you stands one whom you do not know, |27| even he who comes after me, the thong of whose sandal I am not worthy to untie...

|32| I saw the Spirit descend as a dove from heaven, and it remained on him. |33| I myself did not know him; but he who sent me to baptize with water said to me, “He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain, this is he who baptizes with the Holy Spirit (πνεύματι ἁγίῳ).” |34| And I have seen and have borne witness that this is the Son of God.

There is much to unpack here, but I want to focus on one critical aspect for our current study. John contrasts his baptism with Jesus’—this is the first occurrence of this distinction.

For now, I just want to note that John claims that his baptism is with water, but Jesus will be with the Holy Spirit. There is something more to Baptism than just a water bath (cp., 1 Peter 3:21). There is a Baptism that is coming in the Gospel that will be with the Spirit. But, does that necessarily mean that water will not be involved?

This is preparing the reader for what is to come, and John discloses what he means by this distinction in chapter 3. To preview this discussion, the statement is intended to distinguish between what John the Baptist did prior to Jesus’s ministry and what Christ established to be practiced in the Early Church.

II. A Discussion about Baptism between Jesus and Nicodemus (John 3:1–21)

There is a strain in the Gospel of John. The Evangelist attempts to walk a tightrope, balancing the flesh and the spirit. He wants to say that true reality is spiritual, yet he does not want to deny that the physical world is still a critical component of Christian life.

This is why there are so many paradoxical statements about the flesh and spirit—juxtapositions emphasizing the necessity of interacting with the physical. And, to be clear, the diminishing comments on “the flesh” are not meant to be read as physical; it is a distinction of the human and the spirit.

In John 3, we see the same battle between these seemingly diametrically opposed ontological categories. The idea that the spiritual is true reality, yet the sacrament must be conducted with a physical medium.

How then is one baptized with the Holy Spirit according to John? The action must occur by use of physical water, which becomes pneumatically infused because of Christ’s death.

Some wish to deny that this passage discusses the rite of Baptism, but as with the eucharist in John 6, one should not expect the word baptism to appear here in John 3. The Fourth Evangelist is not explicitly direct when discussing these rituals, and he chose to speak about them through a narrative.

I will analyze the following aspects of this pericope in order to establish the necessity of water baptism:

1. Signs as they pertain to John 2 and 6

2. Play on words: Born from above/again (ἄνωθεν, anōthen)

3. To be born of water and spirit

4. Flesh vs. Spirit—though, I have touched on this in my John 6 article

5. The connection with Jesus’s death, Crucifixion, the OT prefigurement, and eternal life

These features work in concert in order to speak of the importance and efficacy of baptism in Early Christianity.

1. The Significance of Signs

Signs in the Gospel of John is a difficult topic because the Evangelist throws the word around quite liberally. He numbers some of the signs,—a bit haphazardly—yet he says Jesus performs other signs that lack this designation.

The reason I plan to incorporate this difficult discussion in this article is due to Nicodemus’s opening words to Jesus,

Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs (τὰ σημεῖα) that you do apart from the presence of God. (3:2)

What signs does Nicodemus mean? As far as the narrative is concerned, this is an appeal to previous events in the Gospel leading up to this discourse.

Our first numbered Sign comes in chapter 2 with the water-turned-wine at the Wedding in Cana (2:1–12), which I have already explored concerning the Eucharist.

The next pericope that mentions Signs comes between Cana and Nicodemus’s visit—the cleansing of the Temple (2:13–25). Jesus speaks of the Temple as a portent of his own death and resurrection (vv. 18–22), but that is not the Sign.

At the end of the back-and-forth, the narrator notes,

When he was in Jerusalem during the Passover festival, many believed in his name (ἐπίστευσαν εἰς τὸ ὄνομα αὐτοῦ) because they saw the signs (σημεῖα) that he was doing. (2:23)

This narratorial remark contains many key themes in the Gospel:

• Jerusalem—the place where Jesus will be sacrificed

• Passover—the time when Jesus will be sacrificed

• Belief—the action necessary by those who follow Christ

• Signs—miraculous works that reveal who Jesus is

These signs are meant to point ultimately to Christ’s work—his mission—that he is to die on the cross as a ransom for the sins of the world. He is a cultic sacrifice as the (paschal) lamb of God, and each of these signs provides some information about this.

In Cana, it was a foreshadowing of eucharistic discussions that were to follow, which are connected with Christ’s death—the event ends stating his glory was revealed, and the disciples believed. In John 6, the multiplication of bread is called a sign (v. 14). Jesus then discusses that he is the bread of life—from heaven—and directly connects the eucharist with his death (vv. 50–51, 55–57).

The official’s son in John 4:46–54—the second numbered Sign—is a miracle of death commingled with resurrection. We have a boy who is “near death,” and Jesus states, “Unless you see signs and wonders (σημεῖα καὶ τέρατα) you will not believe (πιστεύσητε)” (4:48). Though the boy does not ultimately die, the image is still death to life.

The entire idea of these signs is meant to impress upon the reader that belief is necessary for Christ to be effective in the Christian—to abide in him. The man’s son is not healed because of Jesus and only Jesus; the belief of the official is also required—his work.

Could Jesus have healed the man’s son without belief? Presumably, yes. But, the narrative purpose of this “second sign” (v. 54) is to connect—once again—death and belief.

So, going back to the authorial comment in John 2, we have a confluence of these themes that anticipate Jesus’s climactic end in the Gospel on the Cross. It is on the cross that water and blood flow out of Christ in 19:34, which is representative of that outflowing of the Spirit and the Sacraments.

With Nicodemus in John 3:2 mentioning signs, it is to signal the reader that the discussion will revolve around Jesus’s death. In turn, Jesus glides over the comment because he has something in mind he wishes to discuss: Baptism.

2. Born from Above or Born Again?

Jesus is generally reluctant in the Gospels to be forthright with anyone. In the Synoptics, Jesus speaks in parables to confuse, whereas in John he speaks philosophically at times to generate misunderstanding.

This narrative in John 3 is by no means an exception. After Nicodemus praises him, Jesus responds, saying,

Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above (γεννηθῇ ἄνωθεν). (3:3)

Nicodemus, baffled, retorts,

How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time (δεύτερον) into the mother’s womb and be born? (3:4)

This confusion makes little sense in English. The reason Nicodemus misunderstands is due to the ambiguity of anōthen (ἄνωθεν) in Greek. The primary meaning is “from above,” but it can also mean “again,” which is the more “logical” reading—at least to Nicodemus.16

This misunderstanding could only occur in Greek, as Raymond Brown explains,

Such a misunderstanding is possible only in Greek; we know of no Hebrew or Aramaic word of similar meaning which would have this spatial and temporal ambiguity. Once again, it is not impossible that the meaning “again” is intended by John on a secondary, sacramental level.17

This points to the likely possibility that this dialogue is contrived; it is a creation by the Evangelist because he wanted to discuss Baptism in his narrative.

Regardless, this misunderstanding is intentional, for Christ intends both meanings, though not as Nicodemus understands it.18 He thinks Jesus means there will be a literal re-birth from a mother.

That said, even if both are in mind, the primary meaning must be from above with again being secondary.19 So, Nicodemus is simultaneously wrong, but he is also partially correct. This concept of “born again” is not completely Johannine, for it appears in 1 Peter, though employing more precise terminology,

|1:3| Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy we have been born [again (ἀναγεννήσας)] to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead...

|23| You have been born [again (ἀναγεγεννημένοι)], not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God

For John, the one who believes is to be born again, but he is to do so from above, i.e., a spiritual birth experienced through Baptism.20 This is meant to anticipate the part of the dialogue where Christ discusses being born of both water and spirit—two descriptors of a singular action.

3. Baptism: to be born of Water & Spirit

Jesus’s appeal to birth in chapter 3 is meant to resonate with this topic in the introduction of the Gospel. In 1:12, the narrator claims,

But to all who received him, who believed in his name (πιστεύουσιν εἰς τὸ ὄνομα αὐτοῦ), he gave power to become children of God, |13| who were born (ἐγεννήθησαν), not of blood or the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

We have two major points of contact since this was introduced:

• Belief in his name (2:23)

• Birth (3:3)

In this dialogue with Nicodemus, John expounds on how one is re-born—from above—as a child of God; it is through baptism,

Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the Kingdom of God without being born of water21 and Spirit (γεννηθῇ ἐξ ὕδατος καὶ πνεύματος). (3:5)

For, how is one born of God (1:13)? It is via the Spirit, which is accomplished through Baptism to enter the Church, the Kingdom of God.22 This is not a statement of two events but one. It is through the waters of the rite that a person is baptized with the Holy Spirit.

This is made even more explicit in the context of John the Baptist comparing his baptism Christ’s,

He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain, this is he who baptizes with the Holy Spirit (πνεύματι ἁγίῳ). (1:33)

The threads have been woven together here in John 3:5, for it is in Baptism that water and spirit come together so that the one who believes might be born again, from above—a spiritual birth.23 The water here must indicate something other than a synonymous double-statement where water also means spirit.

Just like in John 6, though, the Fourth Evangelist does not employ the words eucharist or baptism, but he discloses his view through a dialogue between Jesus and an interlocutor(s). It requires drawing from multiple pericopes in the Gospel to knit together John’s intended meaning.

Now, this is complicated because there is a denial of the flesh in place of the Spirit, which can be misinterpreted to mean a denial of the physical.

4. The Paradox of Flesh & Spirit

John has Jesus curb this statement, asserting that this is a spiritual birth, not a physical one,

τὸ γεγεννημένον ἐκ τῆς σαρκὸς σάρξ ἐστιν, καὶ τὸ γεγεννημένον ἐκ τοῦ πνεύματος πνεῦμά ἐστιν.

What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. (3:6)

This is not a comment that water baptism is ineffective or that water is irrelevant. Rather, it is an explanation of what was stated in 1:12 about the children of God, that they are born “not of blood or the will of the flesh or of the will of man.” The contrast is ontological, the difference between mortal and spiritual realities.24 This is not a denial of water baptism. It is a comment on spiritual birth to become a child of God.

The statement is a claim of spiritual rebirth from above, which is accomplished through the physical medium of water. This water has been pneumatically infused via Christ’s death upon the cross. The image, otherwise, is nonsensical; the most natural reading is in light of the baptismal rite where water is involved.

“Flesh” here is also not to be read as a negative, sinful quality either. Raymond Brown explains,

For John “flesh” emphasizes the weakness and mortality of the creature (not the sinfulness as in Paul); Spirit, as opposed to flesh, is the principle of divine power and life operating in the human sphere.25

Jesus’s statement is a contrast of types; it is not meant to be read with Paul’s view of sinful flesh in mind.

The birth that Nicodemus misunderstands—a physical re-entry into a mother to be reborn—is preposterous. This is another birth that is not from flesh or from blood; it is by the Spirit that this birth happens. An act is still required.

In v. 7, Jesus plays off of this understanding when he repeats himself,

Do not be astonished that I said to you, “[it is necessary that you be] born from above/again (δεῖ ὑμᾶς γεννηθῆναι ἄνωθεν).”

Jesus emphasizes with dei (δεῖ) that “it is necessary”26—the action is a requirement. You must be born of water and spirit, born from above, born again. This is accomplished through the rite of Baptism. There is no symbology here; it is not a choice.

This necessary practice must be accomplished through baptism because John contrasts it with a person’s literal birth, i.e., physical birth from the flesh. The distinction necessitates that some performance must occur since birth is a literal event in everyone’s life. To be born again—from above—must be associated with another literal event, and the most logical Christian action that involved water would be Baptism.

In turn, the phrase “born of water” cannot be in reference to physical birth. First, there are no instances in which this phrase is used for birthing in antiquity.27 The closest biblical parallel comes from 2 Esdras 8:8,

And because thou dost give life to the body which is now fashioned in the womb, and dost furnish it with members, what thou hast created is preserved in fire and water, and for nine months the womb which thou has formed endures thy creation which has been created in it. (RSV)

This instance, though, does not gel with John 3 since the birth is not expressed in these terms. The context pertains to a condemnation of abortion/infanticide (see v. 14).

Secondly, every human being is born, so emphasizing the necessity of birth and coupling it with the Spirit is narratively and theologically pointless.

Nicodemus is still perplexed,28 questioning how this is accomplished, and Jesus insults him for not understanding since he is a “teacher of Israel.” The pericope then shifts to Jesus tying the rite to his death (vv. 11–15), which concludes with a narratorial exposition (vv. 16–21).

5. The Sacrament of Baptism, Christ’s Death, and OT Prefigurements

Just like we explored in John 4 and 6 with their own OT prefigurements to ground the discussion, so too does John here. Rather than using an image for baptism specifically as he did for the Eucharist, he links Christ’s death with an image from Israelite history.

Prior to this, he tells Nicodemus that he should understand this teaching since he is a teacher himself. Meaning, he should be familiar with Israelite history, and he should comprehend what Jesus means.

a. Belief, Earthly Things, and Heavenly Things

Christ rubs salt in the wound, stating,

If I have told you about earthly (ἐπίγεια) things and you do not believe (πιστεύετε), how can you believe (πιστεύετε) if I tell you about heavenly (ἐπουράνια) things? (3:12)

This illustrates that Nicodemus does not understand the teaching; he does not comprehend that Jesus is discussing the earthly practice of Baptism to attain the spiritual indwelling, to abide in him. It is still early in the Gospel, and Jesus has yet to explicate this fully.

It is critical to note Jesus does not say fleshly things and spiritual things. Rather, he uses two words that contrast physical spaces rather than ontological states. That is, he contrasts earth and heaven rather than flesh and spirit.

Now, these concepts certainly have overlap, but the lexical shift is important. The reason? Jesus will soon discuss the place from where Jesus came: heaven (3:13 and again in 3:31–36). This contrast anticipates the discussion, while simultaneously emphasizing that Jesus is talking about something of earth: physical water baptism.29

Still, Nicodemus does not understand what Jesus means, so he cannot grasp the spiritual, the heavenly.

b. The Ascent and Descent of the Son of Man

Jesus then comments on the origins of the Son of Man.30 This ties directly to Jesus’s biting question about Nicodemus’s comprehension:

No one has ascended into heaven (οὐρανὸν) except the one who descended from heaven (οὐρανοῦ), the Son of Man. (3:13)

Jesus, the Son of Man—the Bread which comes down from heaven (6:35–38)—is the one who comes from a spiritual realm. He has taken on flesh to reveal the spiritual.

As such, the question and statement pairing is meant to show the interconnected nature of spirit and flesh, heaven and earth, for it is in the incarnation of the Word that these spheres converge. It is by the divine Logos taking on flesh that the heavenly is revealed.

With the revelation of the spiritual, the heavenly—and so, the Father—becomes intelligible. It is all revealed through the Son, but more specifically, it is accomplished through his work: to die on the cross.

c. The OT Prefigurement Explanation

Jesus does not express outright what he means here. He makes a number of digs at Nicodemus, then explains in veiled language, as if the comments are meant more for the reading/listening audience than the narrative one.

This is where John’s voice truly begins to come through, but it really will not occur until v. 16.

Regardless, he does not explain to Nicodemus what he meant by flesh and spirit, earthly and heavenly. He instead talks about the one from above who descended from heaven to reveal these things. He then speaks of the Old Testament, specifically Moses and the serpent,

|14| And as Moses lifted up (ὕψωσεν) the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of man be lifted up (ὑψωθῆναι), |15| that whoever believes (πιστεύων) in him may have eternal life (ζωὴν αἰώνιον).”

The account comes from Num 21:9, and I will present both the Hebrew and the Greek since they differ,

So Moses made a bronze serpent, and set it on a pole; and if a serpent bit any man, he would look at the bronze serpent and live. (RSV)

And Moyses made a snake of bronze and put it (ἔστησεν) upon a sign (σημείου), and it came to pass that when a snake bit a person and he looked at the bronze snake, then he lived. (NETS—based on the LXX)

This is where NT studies is difficult. It is unbelievably tempting to want to draw signs in John with this shift from “pole” (MT) to “sign” in the LXX. Could this be a reason why the Fourth Evangelist is fixated on signs?31 This may be impossible to determine, but Wisdom of Solomon contains complementary, midrashic lines,

|6| they were troubled for a little while as a warning,
and received a token of deliverance [or, “symbol of salvation” (σύμβολον ἔχοντες σωτηρίας)] to remind them of thy law’s command.

|7| For he who turned toward it was saved (ἐσῴζετο), not by what he saw,
but by thee, the Savior of all. (16:6–7, RSV)

The idea certainly gels with Johannine soteriology and the crucifixion. Salvation comes to those who “turn” toward the cross—for John, “believe in the name.” God sent his son to achieve this end. Additionally, later in Wisdom 16, the author’s usage of “word” is intriguing, since it resonates with John 1 and the coming of the Divine Logos,

|12| For neither herb nor poultice cured them,
but it was thy word (λόγος), O Lord, which heals all men.

|13| For thou hast power over life and death (ζωῆς καὶ θανάτου);
thou dost lead men down to the gates of Hades and back again.

The concept of the word healing all men, giving them life in place of death, and leading men back from Hades certainly parallels key soteriological themes in John. But, showing dependency is onerous.

What may strengthen the case further, though, are the lines pertaining to the Manna from Heaven,

|20| Instead of these things thou didst give thy people [nourishment/provisions] of angels (ἀγγέλων τροφὴν),
and without their toil thou didst supply them [bread from heaven (ἄρτον ἀπʼ οὐρανοῦ)] ready to eat,
providing every pleasure and suited to every taste.

|21| For thy sustenance manifested thy sweetness toward thy children;
and the bread, ministering to the desire of the one who took it,
was changed to suit every one’s liking.

These concepts are certainly parallel with John 1, 3, and 6, and I contend there is some level of dependency or influence from the Wisdom of Solomon. The Fourth Evangelist, regardless, chose to interpret the account from Numbers in a similar fashion.

Unfortunately, John does not quote Numbers 21; he only alludes to it. Regardless, his emphasis here is on the “lifting up” (ὑψόω, hupsoō), not on the pole, sign, or cross. Though this lacks any clear resonance with what has come previously, the purpose of this reference is to anchor the thought with an OT prefigurement.

The serpent Moses lifted up on a pole is meant to anticipate the lifting up of Jesus on the cross. The Evangelist makes a direct connection with baptism and the crucifixion.

Additionally, John throws in v. 15, which connects the importance of belief for eternal life. We see the confluence of many themes here that have been discussed: a ritual, belief, and Jesus’s death. These elements are all present in John 6, too, because it is the death of Christ that makes the Spirit available.

d. The Narratorial Explication of Baptism’s Connection with the Death & Sacrifice of Christ

The author’s commentary now becomes more apparent. There is no clear break in the text that Jesus is no longer speaking, but the discussion here about salvation and death is most naturally read as Johannine commentary.

What did Jesus’s death mean? Light and Dark? Good and Evil?

I will not explore each line of vv. 16–21 closely for that will take up too much space. Rather, let us just draw from this narratorial exposition what is necessary for understanding the rite of baptism with the themes we have so far examined.

i. Belief, Death, and Eternal Life—The Red Thread of John 3, 4, & 6

The narratorial comment begins with v. 16, which is further clarification of vv. 14–15 about Jesus’s death and belief:

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes (πιστεύων) in him should not perish but have eternal life (ζωὴν αἰώνιον).

The commingling of death, belief, and eternal life are once again emphasized. This is similar to John 6 where the Evangelist connects these same themes with the Eucharist:

1. Christ’s death—the bread, his flesh, which he will give (δώσω)—on behalf of the world (6:51),

2. the work of the people is to believe (6:29),

3. Eternal life

   1. For those who believe (πιστεύων, 6:47)

   2. For those who eat his flesh and drink his blood (6:54)

   3. Peter pronounces, “you have the words (ῥήματα)32 of eternal life, and we have believed (πεπιστεύκαμεν, perfect tense)... (6:68)

John 4 also contains these ideas concerning the Eucharist:

1. Jesus heals the official’s son,—the second sign—an image of death and resurrection (4:46–54)

   1. He believed the word (λόγῳ)33 Jesus spoke, and his son was healed (4:50, 53)

2. Many believe:

   1. The Samaritans because of the woman’s testimony (διὰ τὸν λόγον... μαρτυρούσης, 4:39)

   2. Many believed because of Jesus’s word (τὸν λόγον, 4:41)

   3. “It is no longer because of your words (σὴν λαλιὰν) that we believe, for we have heard (ἀκηκόαμεν)34 for ourselves” (4:42)

3. Eternal life, Salvation

   1. The water Jesus will give is a spring for Eternal Life (4:14)

   2. Those who reap “gather fruits for Eternal Life” (4:36)

   3. “...we know that this is indeed the Savior of the world” (4:42)

Thus, these three sacramental scenes are all interconnected with this idea of action (the rite), belief in Jesus, voice/words/hearing,35 his death making salvation available, and eternal life. It is in the actions that John believes that something efficacious, something spiritual is occurring.

In John 3, it is by being born from above/again that one enters the Kingdom; it is in the consumption of Christ’s living water that eternal life is achieved in John 4; it is in consuming the body and blood of Christ that eternal life is transmitted in John 6.

These actions all have their corresponding sacramental, ritualistic actions in the Early Church. These passages comment on the pneumatic significance of these practices for they are tied with belief and Christ’s death, so that Christians might attain eternal life.

Contrastingly, there are narrative characters and groups who represent a failure to believe. In John 3, Haenchen, John, chapters 1–6, 200 makes the observation,

...the answer of Nicodemus is foolish and grotesque. And one can scarcely explicate it as being anything else. The Evangelist thus paints the lack of understanding on the part of Nicodemus (= the man without faith) in the most lurid colors.

John 6 has the Jews who hear the message of Christ, understand the implications of what he says, and they refuse to believe. Although Nicodemus comes around, the Jews do not, and the reader must walk away with the realization that eternal live and salvation are not available to all. There are those in the Gospel who hear the voice of Jesus and turn away due to a dearth of belief.

ii. Salvation and Condemnation

In what follows, John qualifies in part what salvation means. Even if God sent his son for the salvation of the world, is it alone salvific for everyone? Per 3:17–18, it is not. One must also believe.

|17| For God sent the Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him. |18| He who believes in him is not condemned; he who does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God.

Although condemnation is not part of the work of Christ, it is a natural byproduct of it, for those who do not believe will be condemned. That is not to say that Jesus’s death is not for everyone, but its efficacy is contingent upon the individual’s belief, their work.

The importance of this passage for our study, though, relies on the final line. We have seen this phrase in John twice up to this point,

But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God (1:12)

Now when he was in Jerusalem at the Passover feast, many believed in his name when they saw the signs which he did (2:23)

These two previous passages play into what we have already discussed. In 1:12, this anticipates the re-birth of the believer so that he/she may enter the Kingdom of God and become one of his children. In 2:23, the temporal and locative settings are meant to resonate with Jesus’s death.

Belief is a necessary component for these rituals to be effective according to the Gospel of John. It is in these statements that we see numerous points of contact; the act is not sufficient in and of itself (cp. Mark 16:16). This again is not to denigrate or deny the efficacious properties of the physical water, bread, and wine with which the believer will interact. Rather, it is by belief in Christ, because of his death, that these become spiritual realities for eternal life.

III. The Differences of Baptisms, Jesus & John the Baptist (John 3:22–30)

John concludes his narratorial interjection and moves to a scenario where Jesus’s and John’s baptisms are contrasted.36 If there is any doubt that Jesus is discussing baptism with Nicodemus, the Evangelist underscores this in 3:22–23,

|22| After this Jesus and his disciples went into the land of Judea; there he remained with them and baptized (ἐβάπτιζεν). |23| John also was baptizing (βαπτίζων) at Ae′non near Salim, because there was much water (ὕδατα πολλὰ) there; and people came and were baptized (ἐβαπτίζοντο).

It is no coincidence that John constructs his narrative to have a discussion of differing baptisms just after furtively developing his views on the rite in the previous pericope.

The verb “baptize” appears three times in these two verses. This introduction is intriguing because it claims that Jesus is baptizing. This is in stark contrast to what John writes in 4:1–2,

|1| Now when the Lord knew that the Pharisees had heard that Jesus was making and baptizing (βαπτίζει) more disciples than John |2| (although Jesus himself did not baptize (οὐκ ἐβάπτιζεν), but only his disciples),

Although speculative, the imprecision in 3:22 compared to 4:1 may be intentional. It could be due to when the text was originally composed, John forgot and added the note in chapter 4 for clarity. But, it also could be because in 3:22ff., John is specifically contrasting Jesus’s and John’s baptisms, so he allowed the imprecision to make this clear.

Regardless, the narrative shifts in v. 25 to a debate of what baptism does, essentially,

Now a discussion arose between John’s disciples and a Jew over purifying (καθαρισμοῦ)...

This is a strange remark that goes unresolved, for no further explanation is given. John never details the resolution to this argument.37 That said, baptism is not of Christian origins, for it was used within Judaism as well.

“Baptism” and Ritual Cleansing in the Old Testament, Dead Sea Scrolls, and the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha for Deciphering 3:25

In Judaism, washings and baptisms were for ritual cleansing, a purification. It could also be used for healing. But, John the Baptist’s was different in some way, for there would be no dispute were John’s for ritual purification.

Here are a few examples from the OT and extra-Jewish literature to illustrate the usage of water for ritual purity.

In this chart, I chose to group based on the Old Testament (OT), Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS), and then the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (OTP) rather than categorically.

As you can see, ritual cleansing with water was normal within Judaism prior to the ministry of John the Baptist and the coming of Christ. The OT references I provided for washing with water concern priestly cleansing, but 2 Kings (4 Kingdoms LXX) is for healing. Judith and Sirach are just two examples to show ritual “baptisms” were still practiced in the inter-testamental period, as are those from the OTP.

I do want to highlight that the word for “washing” appears consistently throughout the texts: λούω.

The most intriguing for Christians, though, is the Testament of Levi, which connects priesthood, ritual washing, and a eucharistic image (bread and wine). The connections run deeper since vv. 13–14 details the priesthood with an expectation that “a king will arise and shall found a new priesthood in accord with the gentile model and for all nations.” There is even a mention of the “Lord’s table” (τράπεζαν κυρίου) in v. 16.

Although appetizing, this really just shows a similar vein of tradition that was likely influential on the NT writers. This idea of a priest-king is akin to Psalm 110, which makes a similar move with the Order of Melchizedek (cp. Hebrews 7),

|2| The Lord sends forth from Zion/ your mighty scepter./ Rule in the midst of your foes!

|4| The Lord has sworn/ and will not change his mind,// “You are a priest for ever/ after the order of Melchiz′edek.”

The reference to bread and wine here is most probably a similar allusion; cp. Gen 14:18–20,

|18| And Melchiz′edek king of Salem brought out bread and wine; he was priest of God Most High.

If early Christians were reading the Testament of Levi, though, it would be most natural for them to see these christological ideas intertwined with baptism and the eucharist. But, we have no smoking gun showing John was familiar with the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs; I just thought this was an interesting aside to include.

Regardless, what is critical for our analysis is the example of a ritual washing. Though similar to Exodus 30, Leviticus 16, and Numbers 19, these pertain specifically to the priesthood, which is not as applicable in John.

The usage of water for ritual cleansing, though, indicates that John was not entirely unique, per se. His purpose as far as the Gospel writers were concerned, was to prepare for the coming of the Messiah; he was a second Elijah preparing the way of the Lord with a form of ritual cleansing.

That becomes apparent when we reconsider the dispute between John’s disciples and a Jew in 3:25; it pertained to purification, katharismos (καθαρισμός). As stated above, the full conversation is not presented and no conclusion given, but I advance that this statement is a window into John’s perception of what the Baptist’s purpose was: ritual cleansing and forgiveness of sins prior to the Word becoming flesh.

We can witness in these passages that there is a concern with water and the washing away of sins. But, similar to what we have discussed in the Gospel of John, the water is not efficacious enough on its own, e.g., 1QS from the DSS.

Jesus provides something else, something new. His baptism, as John the Baptist contrasted, is with the Holy Spirit. Jesus’s waters have been pneumatically infused as I have discussed previously, which makes his baptism different.

To tie in some archaeological data with Qumran, examine the following images of a ritual pool for the community.

Note in the sign there is a quotation by Josephus, who describes the Essenes, which are hypothesized to be those who occupied Qumran. These people were rather particular about ritual purity, and attained this status with cleansing in these ritual pools, as their literature explains.

In short, these examples show the usage of water for ritual purity or even preparation for ordination and sacrifice. These all impact our understanding of 3:25, for these would be common knowledge for Jews in the 1c. They would understand the importance of ritual washing, and the ties with John’s baptism would not be perceived as wholly unique.

The dispute with the Jews, I offer, concerns what purpose the Baptist’s washing served, and John uses this to contrast it with Jesus’s.

The Difference between the Baptisms of John the Baptist & Jesus

What then is different between the 2? Simply, Jesus’s baptism has the Spirit. John’s does not. Yet, Jesus’s Baptism is still with water. This is implicit in the narrative detail that John and Jesus are both at this location, “because there was much water there” (3:23). Jesus was still baptizing with water.

John never denies the necessity of the water. The distinctiveness is Jesus giving the Spirit, which happens at his death. This is why all these sacramental passages are connected with his crucifixion.

Connecting this with Nicodemus, Jesus states that the person must be born both of water and spirit, meaning that the baptismal act with water is critical. It is not a denial of its necessity. The text, rather, emphasizes the importance of the pneumatic infusion that Christ is able to provide.

It is incumbent upon the reader to realize that Jesus has a nebulous talk with Nicodemus about baptism and his death, and then Christ goes to Judea in order to baptize. The following pericope with John the Baptist is to clarify that Jesus was just discussing water baptism—what it is and why it is important.

Comingled with baptism is an idea of heavenly influence. Afterall, in this discussion, this is explicated when the disciples say Jesus is baptizing, and John replies, “No one can receive anything except what is given him from heaven (ἐκ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ)” (3:27). That which Jesus is providing in his Baptism is from above, from heaven—it is Spirit. This harkens back to the discussion with Nicodemus about “heavenly things (ἐπουράνια),” which emphasizes that spatial dimension. Jesus’s Baptism is intended to be understood as coming from heaven, for it has the Spirit imbued within it.

The contrast between the two baptisms is underscored since John the Baptist denigrates himself in his retort. He is not the bridegroom; rather, he is just a friend.

...the friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears (ἀκούων) him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice (φωνὴν, 3:29)

This verse points backwards and forwards. The voice of the bridegroom certainly resonates with Jesus as the Logos, the word, in chapter one. This then reverberates later in the discourse of the Good Shepherd,

When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice (οἴδασιν τὴν φωνὴν, 10:4)

In these discourses there is a deep connection with recognizing who Jesus is by his voice and what he says and commands, as I have detailed in my John 21 article. It is in this recognition that the Christian experiences the Spirit in these rituals. This phrase from John the Baptist is meant to underscore Jesus’s teaching, that his baptism is of Spirit, made experiential through the water in baptism.

The Word became flesh so that he could die upon the cross and make the Spirit available to all.

This is the true contrast of John the Baptist and Jesus. It is in Jesus’s ritual that the Spirit is made available after his death and resurrection, as I have discussed concerning the Eucharist.

IV. The One Who Descended from Heaven, an Explanation of the Spirit (John 3:31–36)

These final verses of the chapter cap the discussion of baptism and anticipate the eucharistic message that follows because it provides a meta discussion of John’s operative pneumatic sacramental theology.

The discussion revolves around Jesus’s source, and as such, contemplates how Christ is able to make these rituals effective. The initial verse bookends the discussion of born from above/again, though it lacks the double entendre:

He who comes from above (ἄνωθεν) is above (ἐπάνω) all; he who is of the earth belongs to the earth, and of the earth he speaks; he who comes from heaven is above (ἐπάνω) all. (3:31)

The same word in 3:3 (ἄνωθεν) for born from above/again appears here, indicating the importance of the “above” nature of the discourse with Nicodemus. Here it makes clearer what Jesus means. One must be born from above because heavenly things are “above” those earthly things—a spatial and conceptual play-on-words, certainly.

Thus, being born again in the discourse indicates that it must also be from above because Jesus bears witness to it.38 In this, the Spirit is what makes this possible, for there is a contrast as we have discussed between flesh and spirit. The origins of the Divine Logos, heaven (from above), is critical here.

This, in turn, anticipates the Bread from Heaven discourse in chapter 6:

For I have come down from heaven... (καταβέβηκα ἀπὸ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ, 6:38)

The Jews then murmured at him, because he said, “I am the bread which came down from heaven.” (καταβὰς ἐκ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ, 6:41)

These discourses are concerned with Jesus’s source: from above, heaven, with God. Just as chapter 1 indicates the descent,—“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (1:14)—there is a constant emphasis on Jesus being from above, being Spirit, and the importance of these aspects for being beneficial for us mortals, the flesh.

Skipping to v. 34, John notes

For he whom God has sent utters the words of God (τὰ ῥήματα τοῦ θεοῦ), for it is not by measure that he gives the Spirit.

The one who has come down from heaven, the Logos (Word), speaks the words of God, which again ties into the motif of hearing a voice and recognizing it. This is directly connected with the giving of the Spirit, which is administered as I have argued in the Christian rituals of Baptism here and the Eucharist elsewhere.

This passage bridges the two. It is through belief, in the recognition of the Good Shepherd’s voice that the believer is able to experience the Spirit in the baptismal waters and the eucharistic bread and wine. This short explanatory pericope is intended to connect these two sacramental discussions because the Eucharist begins in chapter 4 and climaxes in 6.

The final emphasis on belief for the efficacious experience comes in v. 36,

He who believes in the Son has eternal life; he who does not obey the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God rests upon him.

What makes the pneumatic infusion in the rites effective? It is empowered by the death of Christ when water and blood flow forth, yet the belief from the Christian is just as critical. It is in the belief that this spiritual experience can be had. Additionally, obedience to the Son is necessary for life.

It is in belief and obedience that the Christian hears the voice of the Good Shepherd. And, it is then in this hearing of the Voice of the Logos that the spirit becomes available in the baptismal and eucharistic rituals. That is the purpose of this narratorial commentary that bookends the discussion with Nicodemus and anticipates the Woman at the Well (John 4) and the Bread from Heaven discourse (John 6).

V. Conclusion and Synthesis

Jesus was meant to descend and then ascend, for he is not of this world. That is the importance of the Spirit, the coming of the paraklete to spiritualize matter for a proper indwelling.

We are able to abide in Christ while he is away precisely through our participation in the physical elements of water, bread, and wine. We abide with Christ through the spirit, and it is through these Christian rituals this is achieved.

There is no denial of the physical. Rather, it is an emphasis of the spiritual so that the flesh might abide in Christ after his ascension, when he is no longer physically here. His Kingdom is not of this world (18:36).

Within the NT corpus, the Gospel of John is one of the latest compositions. I personally argue a rather late work, around AD 110 (at most), and the Fourth Evangelist is aware of numerous other writings—I say for sure he is familiar with 1 Corinthians and Mark.

This discussion, in turn, with Nicodemus concerning Baptism is a development of earlier Christian thought:

There is too much here to develop in this already lengthy article, but I wanted to show the diversity of thought about Baptism within the NT corpus. That said, there are some congruences we see with John.

In all instances, Baptism is perceived as something more than just a bath; the ritual is more than just a dip in the water (1 Peter 3:21). Rather, there is a spiritual component where the participant is joined with Christ and the community (Gal 3:29; 1 Cor:12:12). There is a connection with salvation and regeneration (Acts 2:38; Mark 16:1639).

John 3 falls in line with these concepts where Baptism was understood as a requirement for salvation in order to become children of God, to enter the kingdom. I have demonstrated that the water of chapter 3 must be understood as baptism, considering how the remainder of the narrative plays out up to John 4.

The Fourth Evangelist has a philosophical, nebulous discussion within a fabricated narrative to detail what he believes about baptism and why it is important (3:1–21).

He develops the message more in the following pericope with a contrast of Baptisms (3:22–30). The purpose of this distinction is to emphasize and fulfill John the Baptist’s words that one greater than he will appear and Baptize with the Spirit, which will come via Jesus’s own Baptism.

The chapter closes with a meta discussion concerning the flesh-spirit dichotomy, which ultimately describes how Baptism is pneumatically infused (3:31–36). This final authorial explanation is meant to detail why this is made possible—because the divine Word is from above. He embodies the Spirit, and as such, makes the baptismal water spiritual, just like the bread and wine in the eucharist become spiritually infused as the body and blood of Christ (John 6); this climaxes on the cross.

These two rituals are deeply tied together in John’s Gospel. These early Christian practices were always considered more than just a bath and a snack. As such, the Fourth Evangelist chose to have a theological discussion of these practices put in Jesus’s mouth, employing his voice.

That same Word came down from heaven in order to spiritualize the flesh, which is dispensed to the Church via Baptism and the Eucharist.

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Wednesdays and Fridays in the Byzantine Church are dedicated to the Holy Cross, and the troparion for the day is quite beautiful,

“O Lord, save Your people and bless Your inheritance. Grant victory to the Faithful over all their enemies, and protect Your people by the power of Your Cross” (Publicans Prayer Book)

Fridays for Christians have traditionally been a day of fasting because it is the day the Lord was crucified, died, and was buried. The Catechism of the Catholic Church states,

The seasons and days of penance in the course of the liturgical year (Lent, and each Friday in memory of the death of the Lord) are intense moments of the Church’s penitential practice. These times are particularly appropriate for spiritual exercises, penitential liturgies, pilgrimages as signs of penance, voluntary self-denial such as fasting and almsgiving, and fraternal sharing (charitable and missionary works). (CCC 1434)

And, I believe the Catholic Missal (rev. 1943) has an excellent explanation of Ash Wednesday and the Season:

During the Great Fast (Lent), it is most appropriate even more as we are preparing for the Liturgical Season of Pascha (Engl. Easter)—the commemoration of the death and resurrection of our Lord.

In this quick article, I want to share some pictures from the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, and speak on the significance on a few icons as we prepare for this season of prayer and fasting.

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is in a rather remote section of Jerusalem, and you would not really think of it as a church from the outside.

When you step in, you are surrounding by icons, lamps, and candles; if you are fortunate, you hear the sounds of various languages praying liturgies of all sorts of Christians, for there are multiple chapels for Catholics and the Orthodox.

I want to focus on the Chapel of the Crucifixion, which marks where it is traditionally believed Christ was crucified—on Golgotha.

So they took Jesus, and he went out, bearing his own cross, to the place called the place of a skull, which is called in Hebrew Gol′gotha. (John 19:17)

There is actually a hole in the ground where you can touch the rock where Jesus was crucified. I seemingly forgot to take a picture, though…

Directly below this area in the church is the Chapel of Adam.

It is believed that Christ was crucified over Adam’s grave, so the blood of Christ dripped down on him, symbolizing the redemption of all humanity. Within this chapel, there is a window to see this grave.

Lastly for our pictorial journey is the Sepulchre itself. This is a tomb where a structure has been built around it, which is beautifully decorated with large candles and lanterns, and iconography surrounds the area.

Reading Icons

These beliefs that we have discussed are reflected in iconography, which makes these depictions theologically rich. It is crucial to be able to read an icon, for in them are contained many concepts and ideas that are in Scripture. But, there are also theological traditions contained within them.

In most icons of the Crucifixion, you will see a skull that rests in the ground beneath the cross with blood trickling down upon it. This, again, represents Christ redeeming all of humanity with his blood, for that is the First Adam.

Consider what Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 15

|21| For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead. |22| For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive.

Christ, the New Adam, redeemed the first, and by extension, all of humanity is saved through his salvific death.

Then, in the icon of the Resurrection, we see Christ pulling out two humans—a man and a woman—from the grave. These people are the First Adam and the First Eve. This action in the icon is a representation of Jesus saving all of humanity; that is why Old Testament patriarchs, kings, and prophets are typically seen in the background.

This is related to 1 Peter 3,

|18| For Christ also died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh but made alive in the spirit; |19| in which he went and preached to the spirits in prison…

The plundering of Hades is a significant aspect of the death and resurrection of Christ because he is the first fruits of the resurrection.

As Paul also wrote in 1 Corinthians 15,

|48| As was the man of dust, so are those who are of the dust; and as is the man of heaven, so are those who are of heaven…

…|54| When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:

“Death is swallowed up in victory.
|55| O death, where is thy victory?
O death, where is thy sting?”

|56| The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. |57| But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

The conquering of sin and death is found in the death of Christ.

Final Reflection

Though not Byzantine, Ash Wednesday is a wonderful practice to contextualize the season of Lent leading up to Pascha. The Mass focuses specifically on the failures of Adam and humanity, and how futile life would be without Christ. The Latin phrase,

Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris

Remember, O man, that you are dust, and to dust you shall return

is a poignant reminder of our failings (cp. Gen 3:19). It reminds us of our dependence on the death and resurrection of Christ.

As we continue through this penitential season, this is a critical phrase to remember. And, I will close with a gorgeous Gregorian Chant, Parce Domine (“Spare, O Lord”), whose antiphone derives from Joel 2:17.

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(This paragraph is a bit redundant since I also changed my email footers, but so be it)

On social media, I frequently see evangelicals appeal to Luke 11 to show that Jesus demotes Mary, claiming there is nothing special about her—going as far as calling her “just a vessel.” They believe this is an example of Jesus countering any kind of Marian veneration.

Ironically, this passage does quite the opposite as we will explore.

In this short probe, I will provide a translation of the two verses, and then I will explain how this passage relates to the beginning of the Gospel, which very much is the germ of all Marian veneration. Afterall, without the introduction of Luke, Mariology would likely not have developed as it did.

Translation of Luke 11:27–28

|27| And it happened after he said these things, some woman from the crowd raised up her voice and said to him, “Blessed (μακαρία) is the womb that bore you and the breasts, which you sucked.”

|28| And he said, “Rather, blessed (μακάριοι) are those who hear the word of God (τὸν λόγον τοῦ θεοῦ) and keep (=obey/observe)1 it.”

The Meaning of the Passage

In order to believe that this is an exclusionary statement by Jesus is to misread the context in particular and the Gospel as a whole. The lady in the crowd blesses Jesus’s mother2 for two things:

1. Her womb for bearing

2. Her breasts for nursing

Although these are a natural and necessary part of motherhood, these are not aspects that Jesus wants to emphasize for considering someone blessed. This word is key, makarios (μακάριος).

Rather, Christ wants to focus on something deeper: hearing the word of God and obeying it. If one wishes to cut Mary out of those who are blessed, you should probably re-read the beginning of the Gospel.3

The Word of the Lord Comes to Mary

At the beginning of the Gospel, the angel—a messenger of the Lord—Gabriel comes to Mary with a message:

|1:26| In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth…

This detail is critical because a messenger of the Lord is speaking on behalf of God, which makes his words equivalent to God’s. This is one of the purposes that angels served; they delivered God’s message to others.

The details of which include that Mary would bear the Son of God, the Messiah (Christ). Mary responds with confusion for she has no husband and, therefore, has never been with a man. Gabriel explains that she will conceive by the Holy Spirit, and she will bear a child.

These details are less critical for our present analysis, but Mary responds appropriately,

|1:38| Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord (κυρίου); let it be to me according to your word (ῥῆμά).

From this interaction, Mary has heard the word of the Lord, and she has submitted to God’s will. Based upon this interaction alone, Mary has fulfilled Jesus’s corrective statement. She received the greatest message of all time concerning Salvation History, and she willingly agreed to be mother to the Son of God, the Christ.

Mary, Blessed Among Women

Not only does Luke tacitly show Mary is the epitome of one who hears the word of the Lord and keeps it at the Annunciation, but he explicitly calls her blessed for her obedience.

Elizabeth, while great with child,—John the Baptist—has a speech that explains why Mary is blessed,

|1:41| …and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, |42| and she cried out with a great shout and said,

“Revered (εὐλογημένη; RSV, “blessed”) are you among women;

and revered (εὐλογημένος; RSV, “blessed”) is the fruit of your womb!

|43| Why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord (ἡ μήτηρ τοῦ κυρίου μου) has come to me? |44| For behold, as the voice of your greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped with joy.

|45| And blessed (μακαρία) is she who believed (πιστεύσασα) that there will be a fulfillment (i.e., a telos; τελείωσις ) with respect to what was spoken to her by the Lord (κυρίου).”

These words do not come only from Elizabeth because she was under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. She declares that Mary and the Child are special. There is no lexical connection in 1:42 with what is said in 11:28. This does not detract from the clear parallel that is intended, though.

Both Mary and the fruit of her womb are to be revered. I chose a lexically distinct word from “blessed” so that there would be no confusion. But, this does not contradict what is said. Mary and the child—the Christ—are special; they are unique.

Elizabeth expresses how unique this is by exclaiming that she has been graced to meet the Mother of God.4 This interaction is also underscored by her own child’s recognition of Jesus in the womb.

François Bovon and Helmut Koester comment,

The child leaps for joy in the mother’s womb (vv. 41, 44), which here attains the nature of a sign. God makes use not only of words but also of body language. In antiquity, people made predictions about the future of children from the signs and wonders surrounding their birth. Just as Esau and Jacob anticipate their future relationship already in their mother’s womb (Gen 25:22–28), the Baptist even now exercises his prophetic function as precursor” (Luke 1, 58–59).

Now, to make the connection with 11:28 even more explicit, 1:45 contains the lexical connection we might have wanted to see in 1:42, makaria (μακαρία), “blessed.”

Elizabeth under the influence of the Holy Spirit explains precisely why Mary is blessed: she believed the word on the Lord, that there would be a completion to what God spoke to her.5 There is no mention of Gabriel because he is just the messenger; his words to Mary were the Word of the Lord.

Mary, then, is the epitome of what Jesus was saying in 11:28.6 Mary heard the Word of the Lord and kept it, which brought about the coming of the Messiah, the savior of the world.

Mary herself expresses this same idea in the Magnificat (1:46–55),

|48| For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed (μακαριοῦσίν)…

The lexical and thematic connections between Luke 11 and 1 are significant, which further emphasizes that Mary is certainly not diminished in Jesus’s response.

Conclusion

The words in Luke 11 are not meant to be read as a denigration of Mary. Rather, the particle (μενοῦν, menoun), should be read as a shift in emphasis.7 Blessed are not the womb and breasts of Mary; instead, Mary, the Mother of God, is blessed because she is the paragon of Jesus’s statement—one who hears the Word of the Lord and keeps it.

This statement in 11:28 is not reserved for Mary alone, obviously. It is a broader statement for everyone who hears the Word of the Lord and keeps it. My point, though, is that based on Luke 1, Mary encapsulates this correction from Christ.

When God requested that she become the mother of Jesus, she immediately submits. She is not like Jonah who had to be coerced into action. Rather, she heard and assented. She is the epitome of obedience, which is ultimately underscored when reading 11:28 in light of the Gospel’s introduction.

There is no diminishing of Mary in this text. Luke 11:28, in fact, emphasizes how unique Mary was since she was so willing to become the Mother of our Lord.

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John 212 appears to be an attempt to curb this emphasis on the Beloved Disciple by giving Peter a more significant leadership position. It is not—arguably—as blatant as Matthew 16, but based on Jesus’s discourse about the Good Shepherd in chapter 10, this back-and-forth in 21:15–19 is significant for understanding Peter’s primacy in leadership for the Church.

This piece was intended to be just a quick probe, providing a translation of the pericope and noting the parallels between chapter 21 and 10. But as the project developed with the addition of the Church’s memory about Peter, this article has evolved into a lengthier study.

I will begin with a translation of the passage and then move into a discussion of John 21, specifically on the tending and shepherding of the sheep by Peter. The next section details how John 10 is significant for establishing Jesus’s role as a Davidic messiah, a leader, and the Good Shepherd and how this impacts the meaning of Peter shepherding/tending the sheep in John 21:15–19. The analysis will close with a survey of biblical and Early Church literature on Peter’s leadership role and his death in Rome.

I. Translation of John 21:15–19

|15| When they had eaten breakfast,3 Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John (Ἰωάννου; cp. Matt 16:17 Βαριωνᾶ), do you love (ἀγαπᾷς) me more than these?” [Peter] said to him, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love (φιλῶ) you.”

[Jesus] said to him, “Tend (βόσκε) my lambs (ἀρνία4).”

|16| [Jesus] said to him a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love (ἀγαπᾷς) me?” [Peter] said to him, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love (φιλῶ) you.”

[Jesus] said to him, “Shepherd (i.e., lead; ποίμαινε) my sheep (πρόβατά).”

|17| [Jesus] said to him a third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love (φιλεῖς) me?” Peter was grieved because he said to him a third time, “Do you love (φιλεῖς) me?” And Peter said to him, “Lord, you know all things, you know that I love (φιλῶ) you.”

[Jesus] said to him, “Tend (βόσκε) my sheep (πρόβατά).”

|18| “Truly, truly I say to you, when you were younger, you would gird5 yourself and walk wherever you wish. But, when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird (you) and carry you somewhere you do not wish.”

|19| [Jesus] said this, signifying by what sort of death he would6 glorify God. And after saying this, [Jesus] said to him, “Follow (ἀκολούθει) me.”

II. The Significance of “Tending” and “Shepherding” the Sheep

There are numerous intriguing details in this exchange that warrant a discussion—e.g., the lexical shifting of “love”; the parallelism with Peter’s denial and Jesus’s questioning—but will go unanswered in this article. I want to be brief here, so I will focus on one aspect in particular: what does Jesus mean when he tells Peter to “tend” and “shepherd” his sheep?

Not to jump the gun, but these statements are meant to highlight Peter’s leadership role in the Church.7 John wrote well after Peter had traveled to Rome, led the flock there, and been crucified under Nero.

The purpose of this pericope is to accentuate his importance in the Church’s memory. He was the shepherd on earth after the Good Shepherd ascended, commissioned to tend and shepherd Christ’s sheep.8

Tend (βόσκω) My Lambs/Sheep

First, I do believe the chiastic structure of the responses is significant:

“Tend (βόσκε) my lambs (ἀρνία).”

“Shepherd (i.e., lead; ποίμαινε) my sheep (πρόβατά).”

“Tend (βόσκε) my sheep (πρόβατά).”

The verbal shift from βόσκω to ποιμαίνω and back to βόσκω is intentional, signifying the important role that Peter had in the community—he was their shepherd. These are three separate statements with varying degrees of emphasis, which is highlighted by the chiasm with the most prominent meaning found in the middle.

But, before we can address this more concretely, I want to establish what precisely βόσκω means. Both BDAG and LSJ show that the verb signifies either “tend/care for” the flock or the “feeding” of the animals. This is why there is some variety in how this verb is rendered in English—though, most major translations have “feed.”

I chose “tend” to indicate a lexical uniqueness here in John, for it is in chapter 21 alone this word appears. “Feed” may tempt the reader to think of John 6 or elsewhere when eating or consuming is more significant, but I do not believe these passages are relevant. It is a specific idea John has in mind.

In the Septuagint (LXX), the word is used in a variety of ways:

Tending to Sheep—Gen 29:7, 37:12

Animals feeding—Gen 41:2; Job 1:14; Isa 5:17, 11:6–7 (2), 30:23, 65:25 (cp. 11:6–7)

Metaphorical Tending—Jer 38:10; Ezek 34:2 (x11)

Metaphorical feeding—3 Kgdms 12:16; Isa 14:30, 34:17, 49:9

The two instances I wish to explore concern metaphorical tending because they contain leadership connotations.

Jer 38:10 (LXX; MT 31:10)9 reads,

Hear a word of the Lord, O nations,

And declare it in the islands far off; say,

“He who winnowed [or, scattered] Israel will gather him

And will keep him, as he who [tends (βόσκων)] his flock.” (NETS)

Jeremiah depicts God as a shepherd who will tend his flocks. Chapters 30–31 (MT) detail the return from exile and the restoration of Israel and Judah. Because the previous shepherds—the kings—failed, God must adopt this role for his people.

Jack Lundborn, Jeremiah 21–36, 429 explains this common shepherding metaphor as follows,

Shepherding is another widely used metaphor in the Bible and throughout the ancient world, describing the rule of kings and royal appointees (see Note for 2:8) and the rule of God or the gods. The last years of both Israel and Judah saw shepherds unfit for royal office, which led to the demise of the two nations. Jeremiah had harsh words for Judah’s kings, through whose negligence the flock (= subjects) was scattered (10:21; 13:20; 23:1–2; 50:6; cf. Ezek 34:1–10). But Yahweh is the good shepherd, leading and watching his flock, feeding it, and gathering the lambs in his arms (Psalms 23; 77:21[Eng 77:20]; 80:2[Eng 80:1]; Isa 40:11). Here he promises to shepherd Northern Israel, a promise made later also to Judah (23:3–4; cf. Ezek 34:11–16). In the NT, Jesus is the good shepherd (John 10:1–18).

John may not have Jeremiah or any of these other texts precisely in mind; but, it is not out of the question. That said, I wish to show that shepherding was a common metaphor used to indicate a leadership role, which Jesus adopts in John 10. It is significant because as God “tends” to his sheep (Israel and Judah),—as Christ also does as the Good Shepherd—when Jesus commands Peter twice to “tend” the lambs and sheep, it is a critical identity statement for Peter concerning his leadership position.

The lexical importance cannot be overlooked. The word is not common in the NT, appearing only a handful of times:

The Garasene Demoniac—Matt 8:30//Mark 5:11//Luke 8:32, the pigs “feeding”

Prodigal Son—Luke 15:15, feeding the pigs

It is difficult then not to assume at least some of these shepherding OT texts are in mind. Showing an exact dependence based upon one word and a general thematic parallel is difficult. That said, the preponderance of shepherding metaphors makes it apparent that this chiasm is meant to highlight a leadership role.

When we consider the failure of the religious leaders (e.g., Herod; the Pharisees; etc.) in the Gospels, it is natural that John would implement a shepherding metaphor to speak of Christ and then his representative, especially when Jesus was considered to be a Davidic messiah.

The second passage is a bit lengthier, but it explicitly connects shepherding and leadership. Ezek 34:210 (LXX) reads,

|1| And a word of the Lord (λόγος κυρίου) came to me, saying:

|2| Son of man (Υἱὲ ἀνθρώπου), prophesy against the shepherds (ποιμένας) of Israel; prophesy, and say to the shepherds, This is what the Lord says: Oh, you shepherds of Israel, do shepherds [tend (βόσκουσιν)] themselves? Do not shepherds [tend (βόσκουσιν)] the [sheep (πρόβατα)]? |3| Behold, you devour the milk and wrap yourselves with the wool and slaughter the fatling, but you no not [tend (βόσκετε)] my sheep.

|4| You did not strengthen the weakened and did not build up the unwell and did not bind up the crushed and did not turn about the one that strayed and did not seek the lost, and you subdued the strong with hardship.

Ezekiel 34 depicts God as the shepherd,11—the people, his flock—who will replace the inadequate shepherds—the deficient kings of Israel and Judah. Though he is the chief shepherd,—my term—the kings of Israel and Judah are his subordinate shepherds commissioned to care for his sheep in his stead.

These leaders have failed, as Ezekiel elaborates throughout. Moshe Greenberg, Ezekiel 21–37, 694–95 remarks,

The political leaders are responsible for the disaster that befell Israel. The captive kings Jehoiachin and Zedekiah, along with their advisors and officials, all in disgrace, are the putative audience (see Structure and Themes). For the exiled community—the real audience—the message is that this discredited leadership will be replaced by God.

Both instances in Jeremiah and Ezekiel use shepherding metaphors, specifically “tending,” to describe the inadequacy of Israel/Judah’s leadership, and God is ultimately the shepherd of his people. He will save them; he will tend to them; but he will also raise one up to “shepherd” his flocks.

These prophets are looking forward to the restoration of Israel and Judah where a Davidic messiah will become king and be a shepherd once more on behalf of God, as Ezekiel describes,

|23| And I will raise up over them another shepherd, and he shall shepherd them, my slave Dauid, and he shall be their shepherd, |24| and I, the Lord, will be a god for them, and Dauid shall be ruler in their midst; I, the Lord, have spoken. (34:23–24, NETS)

It is difficult to read Ezekiel 34 and not see the clear and apparent parallels with the NT as a whole. And in particular, Ezekiel uses both βόσκω and ποιμαίνω, which helps lexically ground the connection in John 21. Additionally, when we consider the Fourth Gospel’s usage of the Good Shepherd in chapter 10, the dependence upon this idea becomes undeniable.

John 21, in turn, employs βόσκω to emphasize the role of the leader in his shepherding role. He should tend to the needs of the flock. This is twice repeated, once for lambs and then for sheep. This distinction may have some significance, but it is not apparent.

I posit that the first usage of lambs refers to Peter taking care of the neophytes, the catechumens, the newly initiated of the Church. The second then emphasizes that a leader’s responsibility to tend to the needs of the sheep do not cease once they become full-grown. The congregation—that is, the flock—will need nurturing no matter their spiritual age.

Regardless if there is this exact precision contained in the lexical shift, the overall message is clear: Peter will take over the shepherding role of Jesus to tend to the needs of the flock in his absence.

Shepherd (ποιμαίνω) My Sheep

This leadership role is then emphasized in the center of the chiasm when Jesus tells Peter, “Shepherd (i.e., lead, ποίμαινε)12 my sheep (πρόβατά).” To comment briefly on this feature of the discourse, the most important of the three statements in the chiasm is in the middle, which ultimately underscores Peter’s leadership responsibility: be the shepherd for the Church.

The nurturing/tending/feeding of the flock is important, but Peter, as Jesus’s replacement shepherd should primarily be the one who shepherds—leads—the sheep. The distinction being, the first term refers to caring for the flock, whereas the second concerns directing and leading.

The usage of shepherding metaphors for leadership is so prevalent in the OT, it is hard to deny that the implication in John 10 has to do with Jesus being the leader of the sheep. So, by extension, when Jesus commands Peter to tend and shepherd (lead) the sheep, the metaphor must be functioning dependent on this idea—it is as much christological as it is about Peter.

Here are the critical instances for our study on shepherding language and leadership in the OT—the translations are from the RSV, but I will be supplying the LXX (Greek) in parentheses.

The prevalence is so overwhelming that it is incumbent upon the reader to understand shepherding language as clearly an indication of leadership, especially since the verb we are now analyzing has been used so frequently to suggest leading the sheep, i.e., the people.

Now, I want to explore a few of these instances in particular to build a case for what is meant in John 21.

The shepherding metaphor for leadership makes perfect sense when we consider David, the idyllic king of Israel, was himself a shepherd:

|11| And Samouel said to Iessai, “Have the boys come to an end?” And he said, “There is yet the smallest; behold, he is shepherding (ποιμαίνει) among the flock.” And Samouel said to Iessai, “Send, and fetch him; for we will definitely not recline until he comes.” (1 Kgdms [=1 Samuel] 16:11, NETS)

Upon his arrival, the Lord commands Samuel to anoint David. This ties together the monarchy and shepherding in the narrative.

Then later, when David is chosen to take over from Saul, the shepherding metaphor is employed once again,

|2| ...and yesterday and the third day, while Saoul was king over us, it was you who led out and brought in Israel, and the Lord said to you: It is you who shall shepherd (ποιμανεῖς) my people Israel, and it is you who shall become a ruler over Israel...” and they anointed (χρίουσιν) Dauid king over all Israel. (2 Kgdms [=2 Samuel] 5:2–3//1 Chron 11:2, NETS)

David, the man chosen to replace Saul as king, was pulled from his role as a literal shepherd of his father’s flocks to shepherd the people of Israel (cp. Ps 78:70–72). This makes the theme all the more significant, and the image could arguably be said to have its roots in the occupation of their greatest king—Moses, too, was a shepherd (Exod 3:1ff).13

Shepherding metaphors are not limited to human leadership. Isaiah 40 portrays God as a shepherd who will comfort his sheep,

|11| He will [shepherd (ποιμανεῖ)] his flock (ποίμνιον) like a shepherd (ποιμὴν)

And gather lambs (ἄρνας) with his arm

And comfort those that are with young (NETS)

There are a few key aspects to note about this chapter which solidifies this verse in particular is critical for understanding John. First, the voice (φωνὴ) calling out in the wilderness to prepare the way of the Lord (τὴν ὁδὸν κυρίου), a significant theme in Mark—and by extension John (cp. 1:23)—is found in 40:3.

Secondly, the word for “lambs” is the same used for the first time Jesus tells Peter to tend his lambs. Though this does not prove direct dependence, I think it is worth noting the confluence of all these ideas in these terse responses from Christ—messianic prophecies, leadership, Davidic kingship, and nurturing/leading the flock. As it is commanded for Peter to do, Christ first had to embody.

In this text, we see God taking on the shepherding leadership role of the people to bring them home to Israel. The NT authors latched onto this idea, and John in particular applied it to Christ as the Good Shepherd, which then the Fourth Evangelist extends to Peter as a leader of the Early Church.

The final two passages I wish to explore are connected to what we examined previously in Jeremiah and Ezekiel.

Jeremiah, first, looks forward to a restoration of shepherds, while simultaneously condemning previous ones for their atrocious leadership:

|3:15| And I will give you shepherds (ποιμένας) after my own heart (cp. 1 Sam 13:14), and in shepherding (ποιμαίνοντες) they will shepherd (ποιμανοῦσιν) you with skill.”

|23:1| Ah, the shepherds (ποιμένες) who destroy and scatter the sheep (πρόβατα) of their pasture! |2| Therefore this is what the Lord says regarding those who shepherd (ποιμαίνοντας) my people: It is you who have scattered my sheep and have driven them away, and you have not visited them. Behold, I punish you for your evil doings.

The first instance in Jeremiah prophesies a Davidic king—“after my own heart”—who will shepherd (=lead) his people as the kings of Israel and Judah should have.

The second passage then brings condemnation on those kings who were not as David was. They will be blamed and punished for their destructive leadership.

It is difficult not to see the notable parallels with Jesus and the Jewish leadership in the Gospels. Those who were shepherding the people have failed, and Jesus as the new Davidic messiah will supplant them. He will be the good shepherd who will shepherd his people as they should have done.

With how pervasive this theme is in the OT, there is no doubt that the NT authors were well aware of these types. Even if we cannot firmly establish which texts in particular may have been in mind, it is obvious that there is an idea of pastoral leadership present. I will with some confidence, though, state that the passage from Isaiah and Jeremiah14 were in the John’s mind.

As for our final text, I mentioned it briefly when discussing Ezekiel 34,

|23| And I will raise up over them another shepherd, and he shall shepherd (ποιμανεῖ) them, my slave Dauid, and he shall be their shepherd, |24| and I, the Lord, will be a god for them, and Dauid shall be ruler in their midst; I, the Lord, have spoken. (NETS)

This passage is looking for the re-establishment of the Davidic throne:

So in vv. 23f., the messianic hope of the pre-exilic prophets is taken up, yet depicted in a peculiar shape. The special problem in this passage consists in the unique way in which, once the full reasons have been given for Yahweh’s decision himself to take over the office of being shepherd over his people, we are next informed of his intention to appoint his servant David as the one shepherd, who shall feed his people. (W. Eichrodt, Ezekiel, 475)

This concept is adopted in John 10 as it pertains to Jesus, and now in John 21, the Fourth Evangelist applies this idea to Peter who will assume these responsibilities to nurture the flock.

As I noted in the previous section on Ezekiel 34, God is the chief shepherd, the kings of Israel and Judah are subordinate shepherds tasked with tending the flocks. This then can be mapped onto John 21: Jesus is the chief shepherd, and Peter has been chosen to tend the flocks in his place.

We must consider the significance of this from the perspective of a 2c. text. John was not written soon after Jesus’s death, but nearly 70 years later, long after the death of Peter as well (ca. AD 64–68). What significance does this verse serve?

Preliminarily, I will just note that the purpose is to establish the preeminence of Peter as a shepherding leader who must tend the flock in Jesus’s absence. Before we can expound on that further, we must first discuss the role of Jesus as the Good Shepherd.

III. The Connection with Jesus as the Good Shepherd (John 10)

For our purposes, I plan only to establish Jesus as the Good Shepherd in John 10. To discuss the various images of the (sheep)gate and the gatekeeper/stranger/hireling15 will take up more space than necessary because the only image that is critical for chapter 21 is that of the shepherd.

One important characteristic of this passage is the sheep knowing the gatekeeper and the Good Shepherd’s voice (φωνή, phōnē):16

• To him the gatekeeper opens; the sheep hear his voice (φωνῆς), and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. (v. 3)

• When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice (φωνὴν). (v. 4)

• A stranger they will not follow, but they will flee from him, for they do not know the voice (φωνήν) of strangers.” (v. 5)

• And I have other sheep, that are not of this fold; I must bring them also, and they will heed my voice (φωνῆς). (v. 16)

• My sheep hear my voice (φωνῆς), and I know them, and they follow me (v. 27)

There is a lot at play here with hearing and recognizing the voice of the Shepherd that is dependent upon the divine Logos (Word) in John 1.17 When modern readers hear “word,” it is natural to think of a written document, but that is not John’s reference. Rather, it is the spoken word that is evoked.

Consider Genesis 1;—an apparent appeal in John 1—when God creates, he speaks, “And God said, ‘Let there be...’” This is a critical component of the Gospel, for Jesus is that divine Word, that spoken part of creation that brought all things into being. As the Fourth Evangelist claims in 1:3,

...all things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made.

The Logos is not a written document, but a spoken word. This plays directly into the Genesis 1 motif John uses at the beginning of the Gospel—and, arguably with Isaiah 40 as discussed above.

As such, here in John 10, the Shepherd’s voice is dependent on this idea. The sheep hear the spoken word, φωνή (phōnē), of the Good Shepherd. They do not recognize the voice of a stranger for he is not their true leader. He is not the one who tends to them, lays down his life for them, nor does he lead them.

This connection is critical because the sheep know their shepherd’s voice. The idea of leadership and recognition are tied together in John 10.

And I have other sheep (πρόβατα), that are not of this fold; I must bring them also, and they will heed my voice (φωνῆς μου). So there shall be one flock (μία ποίμνη), one shepherd (εἷς ποιμήν). (10:16; cp. Ezek 37:24 in the chart)

The implication being there are more sheep to gather, and they will acknowledge Jesus as their leader because they recognize his voice. This then is related to a unified flock,—there is one flock, one Church18—and Christ alone is their true shepherd.

This may seem to compromise my thesis that Peter is meant to be read as a shepherd in Jesus’s place. But, this concept of one flock, one shepherd underscores Peter’s unique leadership role once Christ has departed in John 21. Jesus chose him to tend and shepherd his flock in his stead. This verse should not be read as a denial of Peter’s position, but rather—when applied to the end of the Fourth Gospel—an emphasis on his importance.

It also does not deny Jesus is the one, true shepherd.

There is a subtle christological statement in 10:9, which emphasises the davidic messianic hope in the OT,

I am the door; if any one enters by me, he will be saved, and will go in and out (εἰσελεύσεται καὶ ἐξελεύσεται) and find pasture.

This may not seem nearly as significant, but the image is dependent on who is able to lead the sheep in and out. John has conflated the metaphor a bit here since Jesus is both the gate—whosoever might enter attains salvation—and shepherd.

Regardless, the Good Shepherd message follows right after,—a clear Davidic expectation fulfillment—so these following OT parallels are critical:

|16| Let the Lord, the God of the spirits and of all flesh (κύριος ὁ θεὸς τῶν πνευμάτων καὶ πάσης σαρκὸς),19 consider a person over this congregation (συναγωγῆς), |17| who shall go out (ἐξελεύσεται) before them and who shall come in (εἰσελεύσεται) before them and who shall bring them out (ἐξάξει) and who shall bring them in (εἰσάξει), and the congregation of the Lord (συναγωγὴ κυρίου) shall not be like sheep that have no shepherd (Num 27:17, NETS)

...it was you [David] that led out (ἐξάγων) and brought in (εἰσάγων) Israel (2 Sam 5:2)

Though the words for “leading” are not lexically the same, the going out/in from Numbers are. This idea of no shepherd to lead the flocks in Numbers 27 is “fulfilled” by a “Jesus” in v. 18—“Joshua,” Gk. Ἰησοῦν υἱὸν Ναυη. This, then, could also be understood as fulfilled later in 2 Samuel with David. He is a true leader who will shepherd his sheep as king.

Directly related is Christ’s role as the Good Shepherd—a new Joshua/Jesus. He will protect his flock and lay down his life for the sheep, but also he will lead them in and out as a leader should. This metaphorical usage of shepherding in Numbers and 2 Samuel is the basis for understanding Jesus as the gate/shepherd in John 10:9; he will lead the sheep/people to salvation.20 Christ is the fulfillment of these OT types, these shepherding leaders.

One final aspect I wish to explore concerns the following pericope when the Jews question Jesus about his status and he responds,

|26| but you do not believe (πιστεύετε), because you do not belong to my sheep (προβάτων τῶν ἐμῶν). |27| My sheep hear my voice (φωνῆς), and I know them, and they follow (ἀκολουθοῦσίν) me.

Here we have an inverse of leading. When the Jews ask if Jesus is the Christ,—a Davidic and messianic leadership role is implied—he is evasive with his answer. He instead responds similar to John 6 about belief. Since the Jews here do not believe, he knows they are not one of his sheep.

Jesus then expounds on this as the Good Shepherd that those in his flock hear his voice and he knows them. They, in turn, follow him. This implies that Jesus—the Good Shepherd—is shepherding them, leading them. Those who do not recognize him as the Good Shepherd, in turn, do not hear his voice, and they do not follow.

V. 27 underscores Jesus’s leadership role as the shepherd; he leads his flock. So, when Jesus tells Peter to shepherd his sheep, this is a direct appeal to his responsibilities. Peter is to take over the shepherding responsibilities for the visible Church that remains since the Good Shepherd is no longer on earth.

What truly ties these two passages together, though, is 21:19,

And after saying this, [Jesus] said to him, “Follow (ἀκολούθει) me.”

Jesus, ultimately, is still the Good Shepherd; Peter still follows him. Christ is still the one who shepherds. But, this does not imply that Peter has not been given this special task in chapter 21, for Jesus said twice to tend his flock and then once to shepherd his sheep.

Similar to how God was the Shepherd for the people in Ezekiel 34 who would then choose another shepherd to lead his people, a Davidic king, I believe a parallel image is at play. Jesus as the Good Shepherd is now bequeathing his role as shepherd on earth to Peter. This does not diminish Christ or deprive him of the title “Good Shepherd.”21 Rather, similar to Matthew 16, Peter is a representative of the Davidic king.22

This is also parallel to Ps 77:20 (76:21 LXX)

You guided (ὡδήγησας) your people like sheep (πρόβατα)

By the hand of Moyses and Aaron (NETS)

God is the shepherd who leads his people, but he chose to use Moses and Aaron to shepherd them. In turn, Christ shepherds his people by the hand of Peter.

This image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd is obviously Christological. It is a statement that Jesus has come as the Davidic king, but now his time will soon arrive to return from whence he came. His kingdom is not of this world (18:36), but there is still an idea present that a leader must remain for the Church. And, this unique position has been given to Peter.

IV. Peter’s Legacy: His Leadership & Death in the Church’s Memory

I would like to end our analysis with the Church’s memory of who Peter was and how he died. This is relevant for John 21 because the Fourth Evangelist composed well after Peter’s death, and he alludes to both of these details in the pericope.

The first section concerns how Peter’s leadership was remembered in the Early Church, briefly discussing his position in Antioch and his move to Rome.

The second portion explores early literature that discusses Peter’s death and crucifixion, drawing parallels with John 21.

Peter in Antioch & Rome

In Gal 2:9, Paul mentions apostolic leadership,

...and when they perceived the grace that was given to me, James and Cephas and John, who were reputed to be pillars, gave to me and Barnabas...

Here, Paul does not describe specifically where they were “pillars,” but he does specify that Peter went to Antioch,

But when Cephas came to Antioch I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned. (2:11)

The specifics concerning works of the Law, justification, and the Jew-Gentile relationship are irrelevant here; the purpose of this quotation is to show attestation that Peter came to Antioch—perhaps as a leader; he is a pillar. Though Paul travels to Antioch multiple times in Acts (11:25–26; 13:1–3; 14:26–28; 15:35), Peter is never mentioned.

As for Peter’s position in Antioch, James Dunn, Galatians, 116 comments,

Paul writes as one who had up to that time been a representative of Antioch, and who had been recognized at Jerusalem as a spokesman for the missionary work among the Gentiles which the Antioch church had sponsored (see on 2:9). Paul implies therefore also that Peter, in coming to Antioch, had entered more into the realm of authority of the Gentile mission, which he, Paul, represented. The equivalence in commissioning and success between Peter and himself, which he had stressed in 2:7–8, was therefore even more significant in Antioch than in Jerusalem.

Scripture provides us little about Peter’s exact leadership roles; there are just opaque references. Peter had involvement in Jerusalem (e.g., Acts 15:1–21; Gal 1:18–19), but it is reasonable to assume James—not the brother of John—shouldered the primary leadership burden (e.g., Acts 21:18; Gal 1:18–19; cp. Josephus, Ant. 20.9.1). Paul in Galatians attests to Peter then coming to Antioch, but he does not precisely claim a leadership position. We receive more details in post-biblical literature.

In Eusebius’s Church history (4c.), when discussing the bishopric line, he mentions Peter’s role in Antioch,

|1| Distinguished men at the same time were Papias, |2| who was himself bishop of the diocese of Hierapolis, and Ignatius, still a name of note to most men, the second after Peter to succeed to the bishopric of Antioch. (Hist. eccl. 3:36.1–2; transl. Kirsopp)

That said, he does not mention Antioch in Peter’s missionary journey in 3.1.1.

Rome, rather, is featured predominately in our records. Peter’s death and his ties there are more explicit, and there are many references that help establish the Church’s memory of his position in Rome.

Irenaeus of Lyons (c. 180, Against Heresies) mentions the establishment of the Church in Rome by Peter and Paul when discussing the authorship of the Gospels,

Matthew also issued a written Gospel among the Hebrews in their own dialect, while Peter and Paul were preaching at Rome, and laying the foundations of the Church. After their departure, Mark, the disciple and interpreter of Peter, did also hand down to us in writing what had been preached by Peter. Luke also, the companion of Paul, recorded in a book the Gospel preached by him. Afterwards, John, the disciple of the Lord, who also had leaned upon His breast, did himself publish a Gospel during his residence at Ephesus in Asia. (3.1.1; transl. Roberts and Rambaut).

Later in book 3, he discusses succession of bishops and the preeminence of Rome, mentioning its foundation again upon Peter and Paul:

Since, however, it would be very tedious, in such a volume as this, to reckon up the successions of all the Churches, we do put to confusion all those who, in whatever manner, whether by an evil self-pleasing, by vainglory, or by blindness and perverse opinion, assemble in unauthorized meetings; [we do this, I say,] by indicating that tradition derived from the apostles, of the very great, the very ancient, and universally known Church founded and organized at Rome by the two most glorious apostles, Peter and Paul; as also [by pointing out] the faith preached to men, which comes down to our time by means of the successions of the bishops. For it is a matter of necessity that every Church should agree with this Church, on account of its preeminent authority (3.3.2)

There are more sources that focus on Peter in Rome, but since they pertain to his death, I will reserve discussing them until the next section.

Jerome (4c.) in De Viris Illustribus provides a succinct overview of Peter’s life and leadership,

Simon Peter the son of John, from the village of Bethsaida in the province of Galilee, brother of Andrew the apostle, and himself chief of the apostles, after having been bishop of the church of Antioch and having preached to the Dispersion—the believers in circumcision, in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia—pushed on to Rome in the second year of Claudius to overthrow Simon Magus, and held the sacerdotal chair there for twenty-five years until the last, that is the fourteenth, year of Nero.

At his hands he received the crown of martyrdom being nailed to the cross with his head towards the ground and his feet raised on high, asserting that he was unworthy to be crucified in the same manner as his Lord...

Buried at Rome in the Vatican near the triumphal way he is venerated by the whole world. (§1; transl. Richardson)

Though this attestation of Peter’s role in Rome is late, it serves as an excellent segue. Jerome establishes in one text many of the popular traditions that were circulating in the Church, which solidified the memory of Peter. He helped establish the Church in Antioch, was bishop there, and eventually made his way to Rome where he finished the race.

Death by Crucifixion

As for Peter’s death, I plan to deal with this in two sections. The first concerns the Gospel of John and discussing Jesus’s “prediction” that Peter would die by crucifixion.

The second explores important texts in the Early Church that provide extra details about where Peter expired and the events that surrounded the event.

The Gospel of John

When Jesus speaks prophetically in the narrative of John 21, this is a detail that—presumably—his audience would be well aware of. The pericope ends with Jesus predicting how Peter would die:

|18| But, when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands (ἐκτενεῖς τὰς χεῖράς σου), and another will gird (you) and carry you somewhere you do not wish.” |19| [Jesus] said this, signifying by what sort of death he would glorify God.

This usage of “stretch out your hands” was used to signify crucifixion:

Epictetus (b. ca. AD 50, slave-turned-philosopher) describes taking a bath, while positioning oneself as if getting crucified—the context is immaterial; this is just to illustrate the lexical usage:

when you have taken off your clothes and stretched yourself out (ἐκτείνας σεαυτὸν) like those who are crucified (ὡς οἱ ἐσταυρωμένοι) you may be rubbed on this side and on that... (Discourses 3.26.22)

Josephus (1c. AD Jewish historian) describes a play where people are crucified, using this language:

for an actor was introduced, by whom a leader of robbers was crucified (σταυροῦται), and the pantomime brought in a play called Cinyras, wherein he himself was to be slain (lit. “stretched out”; ἐκτείνετο), as well as his daughter Myrrha, and wherein a great deal of fictitious blood was shed, both about him that was crucified (τὸν σταυρωθέντα), and also about Cinyras. (Ant. 19.94; transl. Whiston)

An intriguing example comes from the Epistle of Barnabas (a work in the Apostolic Fathers dating between AD 70–132; cf. Holmes), who parallels Moses stretching out his arms as a type for Jesus’s crucifixion:

And again he speaks to Moses, when war was being waged against Israel by foreigners, and in order that he might remind those being attacked that they had been handed over to death because of their sins, the Spirit says to the heart of Moses that he should make a symbol (lit. “type”; τύπον) of the cross (σταυροῦ) and of the one who was destined to suffer because, he is saying, unless they place their hope in him, war shall be waged against them forever.

Therefore Moses piled one shield upon another in the midst of the battle, and standing high above them all he stretched out his hands (εξέτεινεν τὰς χεῖρας), and so Israel was again victorious. (12.2)

We see here a tradition from Barnabas, that Moses was a type for Jesus’s death. Based upon this, one could argue that Peter also suffered a fate similar to Christ—a parallel that appears in early Christian literature. I am not implying that John is connecting Jesus’s crucifixion with Moses, but the Evangelist makes a similar move when he paralleled Jesus and Peter’s death, as well as their leadership roles in the Church.

Extra-Biblical Literature

This is the most we learn from Scripture about Peter’s death, which is a bit shocking. The NT overall details little about how the Apostles died; we are reliant on tradition for the majority of them. Though, James’s death can be found in Acts 12, which also mentions Peter’s arrest:

|1| About that time Herod the king laid violent hands upon some who belonged to the church. |2| He killed James the brother of John with the sword; |3| and when he saw that it pleased the Jews, he proceeded to arrest Peter also. This was during the days of Unleavened Bread (ἡμέραι τῶν ἀζύμων).23

As for the death of Peter and the details surrounding it, there are a few key places to analyze. We will not be discussing the historicity of these claims because this paper is already lengthy enough. I just wish to explore what is contained in the Church’s literary memory.

Eusebius (4c. Church historian) is a good place to begin since he records Peter and Paul’s death with sources:

|5| In this way then was he the first to be heralded as above all a fighter against God, and raised up to slaughter against the Apostles. It is related that in his time Paul was beheaded in Rome itself, and that Peter likewise was crucified (ἀνασκολοπισθῆναι),24 and the title of “Peter and Paul,” which is still given to the cemeteries there, confirms the story, no less than does a writer of the Church named Caius, who lived when Zephyrinus was Bishop of Rome.

|6| Caius in a written discussion with Proclus, the leader of the Montanists, speaks as follows of the places where the sacred relics of the Apostles in question are deposited: “But I can point out the trophies of the Apostles, for if you will go to the Vatican or to the Ostian Way you will find the trophies of those who founded this Church.” (Hist. eccl. 2.25.5–6; transl. Kirsopp [LCL])25

From Eusebius, we have recorded the general time when Peter and Paul were killed—during the reign of Nero—and where their relics were located.

In book 3, Eusebius discusses further Peter and Paul’s missionary responsibilities and deaths,

Such was the condition of things among the Jews, but the holy Apostles and disciples of our Saviour were scattered throughout the whole world. |2| Thomas, as tradition relates, obtained by lot Parthia, Andrew Scythia, John Asia (and he stayed there and died in Ephesus),

but Peter seems to have preached to the Jews of the Dispersion in Pontus and Galatia and Bithynia, Cappadocia, and Asia, and at the end he came to Rome and was crucified head downwards (ἀνεσκολοπίσθη κατὰ κεφαλῆς), for so he had demanded to suffer.

|3| What need be said of Paul, who fulfilled the gospel of Christ from Jerusalem to Illyria and afterward was martyred in Rome under Nero? This is stated exactly by Origen in the third volume of his commentary on Genesis. (Hist. eccl. 3.1.1–3; transl. Kirsopp)

Now, this is the fourth century’s memory. He does note his sources which obviously predate him, but there are other instances of Peter’s death that are mentioned in earlier literature.

1 Clement (AD 95–97 traditionally; must be after Neronian persecutions [64–68]; cf. Holmes) only mentions Peter’s death, but provides no details:

There was Peter, who because of unrighteous jealousy endured not one or two but many trials, and thus having given his testimony went to his appointed place of glory. (5.4)

The majority position is that 1 Clement was composed in Rome, but we cannot say for certain if the text reflects this as the city where Peter died.

Ignatius of Antioch (d. during the reign of Trajan, AD 98–117 [cf. Holmes]; Epistle to the Romans) has a vague appeal to the deaths of Peter and Paul, which implies they were martyred in Rome since Ignatius is headed there for his own martyrdom:

I do not give you orders like Peter and Paul: they were apostles, I am a convict; they were free, but I am even now still a slave... (4.3)

It would be apropos for Ignatius to appeal to Peter and Paul when telling the Church at Rome not to intervene with his martyrdom—the context of chapter 4. This is likely a tacit appeal to their leadership and authority in Rome and their martyrdom. The weight of their voices would be significant for these particular Christians.

The Apocalypse of Peter (before AD 150), a text detailing the second coming of Christ and the resurrection of the Dead—told to Peter—does not detail Peter’s death because he is a character in the narrative, but it alludes to his ministry (and death?) in Rome:

I have spoken this to you, Peter, and declared it to you. Go forth therefore and go to the city of the west [=Rome] and enter into the vineyard which I shall tell you of, in order that by sufferings of the Son who is without sin the deed of corruption may be sanctified. As for you, you are chosen according to the promise which I have given you. Spread my gospel throughout all the world in peace... (§14; transl. Elliott)

This text was known in antiquity, and it was amongst those texts disputed in the Muratorian Fragment, but Eusebius (Hist. eccl. 6.14.1; 3.3.1–2) records it was considered inauthentic.26

The Ascension of Isaiah (ca. late 2c.?, some parts as late as 4c.?) contains a “prophecy,” predicting Nero and the death of some of the Apostles, but Peter is not mentioned specifically,

[Beliar, the great angel/ruler] will descend from his firmament in the form of a man, a king of iniquity, a murder of his mother—this is the king of this world—and will persecute the plant which the twelve apostles of the Beloved will have planted; some of the twelve will be given into his hand.27 (4.2–3; transl. Knibb)

“Some of the twelve” is certainly a reference to Peter and Paul,—though he was not one of the twelve—for they are the apostles known to have been slain by Nero. It may not be clear, but these verses are discussing Nero who had his mother—Agrippina—murdered in AD 59.

Lastly, the Acts of Peter (AD 150–200) contains the most famous detailed account of Peter’s crucifixion upside down (§30–41),

“Of you executioners, I ask to crucify me with head downwards, and not otherwise. And the reason I shall explain to those who listen.” After they had hanged him up as he wished he began to speak again... [explains the symbolism of being crucified upside down]

[After Peter’s death] Marcellus awoke he told of the appearance of Peter to the brethren, and he remained with those who had been strengthened by Peter in the faith of Christ, strengthening himself even more till the arrival of Paul at Rome. (§37, 40)

I want to point out two significant features here. First, is the obvious point: Peter is crucified in Rome. Nero is in the text as well (e.g., §41), but I thought these sections were more critical.

As for the second point, there is a clear parallel between Jesus and Peter concerning their deaths. I did not provide all of §40, but after Peter gives his explanation, the parallels are notable, particularly with the Gospel of John:

Peter, just like Christ, was taken down from his cross, his body was anointed with spices and oils, laid into a tomb, appeared to someone, and his message was relayed to others. The parallels with John are the tightest, but there seems to be some borrowing from the synoptics, e.g., the tomb being Marcellus’s like in Matthew the tomb is that of Joseph’s.

Overall, the connections with John and the Synoptics are worth noting, and they further emphasize the parallels between Jesus and Peter in ancient literature. Although this is not evidence, it certainly helps show a parallel concept in John 21.

Just as Jesus is the Good Shepherd in John 10, Peter adopts the shepherding role in chapter 21 when Jesus tells him to shepherd his sheep. The “prophetic” claim that Peter would “stretch out his hands,” a reference to Peter’s own crucifixion, helps establish this parallel between the two in this pericope.

Finally, Tertullian (ca. AD 200–220) in his Prescription against Heretics emphasizes the importance of Rome because of the deaths of Peter and Paul, establishing her authority,

Since, moreover, you are close upon Italy, you have Rome, from which there comes even into our own hands the very authority (of apostles themselves). How happy is its church, on which apostles poured forth all their doctrine along with their blood! Where Peter endures a passion like his Lord’s! Where Paul wins his crown in a death like John’s where the Apostle John was first plunged, unhurt, into boiling oil, and thence remitted to his island-exile! (§36; transl. P. Holmes)

By Tertullian’s time, the legacy of Peter and Paul ministering and dying in Rome was well-established. Though this obviously does not prove historicity, the amount of early evidence up through the 3c. strongly suggests it is likely that both were crowned with martyrdom in Rome.

Concluding Remarks

As I stated about the keys in Matthew 16, I will repeat myself here. Peter’s role as shepherd is christological. If Jesus is not the Davidic Messiah, the Good Shepherd, the leader of the flock, then neither is Peter.

This role that Christ has commanded Peter to assume is contingent upon Jesus’s own position. Peter cannot be a shepherd in Jesus’s place unless Jesus is the Christ, the anointed Davidic Messiah, the shepherd of God’s flock.

The purpose of this pericope is to establish the importance of Petrine leadership in the Early Church and to show that this role was commissioned by Christ. This may be the germ for later developments, but some of the texts we explored were composed contemporaneously or before the Fourth Gospel. That said, the Church focused extensively on promoting Peter’s importance in Rome, as we have explored.

Although there is no exact or precise indication of apostolic succession in John, it must be a lingering thought. Giving the apostles the power to remit and retain sins (20:23) and this concept of Peter as a surrogate shepherd must rely on continued leadership responsibilities.

As I have argued elsewhere—John 6, John 4—the Fourth Gospel is a text dealing with late 1c., early 2c. issues. These narrative details are working on two levels: the first being the narrative, the second commenting on contemporary theological topics. As John 6 pertains to the Eucharist, so John 21 deals with Petrine leadership and his successor(s).

How else are we to understand the importance of emphasizing Peter’s leadership if he is long dead? This is the most probable reading of the passage. It is not just to record the significance of Peter in the Early Church, for that would already be known. This is commentary on the role of Peter in the Church as a foundation for the prominent role of his successors.

If we truly want to argue against apostolic succession, it is onerous to deny the Church’s desire to establish this idea early.

1 Clement makes it clear, using Scripture:

|42.4| So, preaching both in the country and in the towns, they appointed their first fruits, when they had tested them by the Spirit, to be bishops (ἐπισκπόπους) and deacons (διακόνους) for the future believers. |5| And this was no new thing they did, for indeed something had been written about bishops (ἐπισκόπων) and deacons (διακόνων) many years ago; for somewhere thus says the scripture: “I will appoint their bishops (ἐπισκόπους) in righteousness and their deacons (διακόνους) in faith (Isa 60:17 LXX).”28

|44.1| Our apostles likewise knew, through our Lord Jesus Christ, that there would be strife over the bishop’s office. |2| For this reason, therefore, having received complete foreknowledge, they appointed the leaders mentioned earlier and afterwards they gave the offices a permanent character; that is, if they should die, other approved men should succeed to their ministry.

The model from Ignatius for a singular bishop as a leader of a community is also paramount:

Therefore as the Lord did nothing without the Father, either by himself or through the apostles (for he was united with him), so you must not do anything without the bishop and the presbyters. Do not attempt to convince yourselves that anything done apart from the others is right, but, gathering together, let there be one prayer, one petition, one mind, one hope, with love and blameless joy, which is Jesus Christ, than whom nothing is better. (Epistle to the Magnesians 7.1; transl. Holmes)

These are all arguments from silence because there is no precise claim on these matters. That said, this is the most natural reading and understanding of the data. We as historians must deal in probabilities and what is most likely to have happened or what was believed.

has an excellent overview of the historical data on this topic, particularly for the Bishop of Rome.

Classical Christianity

Did Rome Have a Bishop Before the Late Second Century?

Did Rome Have a Bishop in the Early Second Century…

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7 months ago · 10 likes · 7 comments · Luca D'Anselmi

We are dealing with a difficult topic because our information is so limited. But, based upon what we do have, the simplest explanation is that a hierarchical system was implemented early, and the bishop was the head of their flock. A similar concept appears in 1 Peter pertaining to presbyters being shepherds (cp. Acts 20:28, ἐπισκόπους), anticipating the return of the Arch-Shepherd:

|1| So I exhort the [presbyters (πρεσβυτέρους) among you, as a fellow [presbyter (συμπρεσβύτερος)] and a witness of the sufferings of Christ as well as a partaker in the glory that is to be revealed. |2| [Shepherd] the flock of God (ποιμάνατε τὸ ἐν ὑμῖν ποίμνιον τοῦ θεοῦ) that is your charge, not by constraint but willingly, not for shameful gain but eagerly, |3| not as domineering over those in your charge but being examples to the flock (ποιμνίου). |4| And when the chief Shepherd (ἀρχιποίμενος) is manifested you will obtain the unfading crown of glory. (5:1–4)

As discussed previously with God as shepherd and the kings of Israel and Judah as subordinate shepherds, this concept has a clear parallel in the Early Church.29 John 21 just specifically applies it to Peter, and I believe it is an authorial reflection on his unique position.

The germ of this thought must be the OT concept of shepherding to represent the monarchy and other leaders, which John explicitly adopted, as I have shown. As such, this was then mapped onto the apostles and their successors as the shepherds of the Church. Significantly for our passage, though, it is Peter who has this unique role emphasized in chapter 21, just like we see in Matthew 16.

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In this article, I want to touch on a few areas that illustrate how incongruous Christianity and the pro-choice movement truly are—historically and ethically. This will not concern the science of when life begins—or Aristotelian beliefs on the soul and the quickening—since this ultimately is a distraction from the actual moral dilemma.1

My presupposition here is that life begins at conception, as the Church teaches,

Human life must be respected and protected absolutely from the moment of conception. From the first moment of his existence, a human being must be recognized as having the rights of a person—among which is the inviolable right of every innocent being to life. (CCC 2270)

Since my SubStuck focuses on NT studies, the Early Church, and exegesis, my analysis largely focuses on Scripture, extra-Jewish literature, and what the Church has taught on the subject from its infancy, but I will conclude with a modern reflection.

Scripture on Abortion?

Scripture may not appear to be the strongest place to being this discussion since abortion is not directly mentioned, nor is it outright condemned. Appealing to such verses as Exod 20:13—“You shall not kill”—is not exactly convincing since this is a bit of a broad directive.

Though, I do believe it is a satisfactory place to start the discussion and to define abortion for what it is—the intentional killing of an unborn child. This, though, requires some finagling for some.

Thankfully, Sola Scriptura is not controlling in this discussion—nor is it a doctrine of epistemology—and I am able to make my case from other philosophical groundings, which is ultimately how I will approach this moral dilemma.

I begin with Scripture because it is the base upon which to build a case for rejecting abortion since the act is diametrically opposed to Christian ethics and morality. If we can find the germ in Scripture, then it is far simpler to argue for a deconstruction of this vile, evil action that has become so pervasive in our morally sick society.

Nota Bene: Scripture does not touch on every topic that we may wish to discuss in life, but the Church certainly can extrapolate from the text a fitting morality for any subject. Just War theory, proper usage of atomic weaponry, etc. can be deduced from philosophical reasoning.

Theological topics such as the trinity and the hypostatic union are not derived purely from an explicit passage from Scripture, but these cardinal doctrines were constructed from the foundational truth in Christianity while simultaneously applying logic and reason. Afterall, both Athanasius and Arius employed Scripture at the First Ecumenical Council.

There are even some practices, in turn, that are conducted by all Christians which have not their origins in Scripture, e.g., the Mass, Divine Liturgy, Christmas, Pascha, Lent, et al. The Church has never been bound to a book alone.

Abortion should not be excluded from this type of reasoning, and I show there is an ample supply of passages that ground the claim that abortion is abominable in Christianity.

Exodus 21:22–25 (MT, Hebrew) | Laws Concerning Violence & a Premature Birth

My first point of reasoning will be on the attack, tackling the most difficult passage. This pericope is commonly referenced to justify abortion, which I find rather objectionable. Abortion is not the subject here directly, but this portion of the law has been weaponized to establish how the ancient Israelites viewed an unborn child, as property or less valuable, i.e., not an equivalent human life to one who is born.

The Text

I have altered what the RSV contains—anything in brackets [text]—and if you want to understand my reasoning, check the footnotes.

|22| When men strive together, and [they strike]2 a [pregnant]3 woman, [and her child comes forth],4 and [there is no fatal accident (to the child)],5 [he]6 shall be fined, according as the woman’s husband shall lay upon him; and he shall pay as the judges determine.

|23| If [there is a fatal accident (to the child)], then you shall give life for life, |24| eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, |25| burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.

The law is commonly used to show that a fetus was just property when a miscarriage is an accidental byproduct due to violence, indicating that abortion is not morally problematic. For, death is not the resulting punishment; only a fine is to be paid.

I will show this is a distortion of the text in order to diminish the value of unborn life.

Exegetical Analysis

First and foremost, I am not a Hebrew Bible expert; I am a NT specialist.

That said, how I assess the passage, the penalty for injury concerns the child and not the woman. This is against the majority reading, but based on the grammar7 and the logic of the verses, it is far more natural reading.

The crux of the argument is contingent upon the “fatal accident” or “harm” and to whom it applies. By analogy, the two sections before (vv. 20–21) and after (vv. 26–27) concern the abuse of a slave. If they are struck, then X punishment occurs. So, the majority opinion runs, since the woman is struck, then the punishment is contingent upon her damages.

Rather, this part of the law should not be analyzed in light of these two other ordinances, but instead, with the entire list of violence and punishments as a whole (vv. 12–26). The more natural reading concerns the child who was in the womb and then was forcibly birthed. In this instance, if any “fatal harm” occurs, it should be repaid life for life since an actual miscarriage has happened.

Consider this previous directive,

|18| When men quarrel and one strikes the other with a stone or with his fist and the man does not die (וְלֹ֥א יָמ֖וּת) but keeps his bed, |19| then if the man rises again and walks abroad with his staff, he that struck him shall be clear; only he shall pay for the loss of his time, and shall have him thoroughly healed.

The parallel here is similar—if one is struck, the punishment changes upon injury or death, though death was handled just before (vv. 12–14). The same logic should apply to a woman who is struck inadvertently in a quarrel. Our section, though, focuses on a pregnant woman, specifically on the unintentional birthing of the boy or girl.

It is more sensible to read this text as pertaining to the child who has “come forth,” and if any harm has come to him/her.

Otherwise, what is the purpose of including that it is a pregnant woman with a premature birth? If a woman is struck, the same logic should control as in the surrounding examples. Specifying that the woman is pregnant reveals that it is the outcome of the ill-timed, forced birth that is problematic, not the condition of the woman after being struck.

The majority reading originates from rabbinical texts, as Sarna, Exodus, 125 comments,

damage Hebrew ʾason elsewhere always signifies a major calamity; therefore, the most likely issue here is whether or not death ensues. Rabbinic tradition construes the phrase in this way and understands it as referring to the mother.55

fn 55: MdRY Mishpatim 8, pp. 275–276; so Targums.

A pushback may come based on v. 24, that it would seem more likely that the payment for injury is based on the damages the pregnant woman sustained. But, a child could also come out alive in a premature birth and be disfigured in some way, for which the husband would be due recompense.8

Let us, for the sake of argument, assume I am mistaken in my reading, and this is not a case of “life for life” for the child.9 Let us just run with the idea that the fetus is merely property—we have to ignore the horrendous dehumanization for the sake of argument. The death/destruction is still considered wrong.

If this is the line of argument you wish to pursue, then fine. It is not “murder,” but it is still unjust. It is still immoral. It is still an offense.

This passage cannot be used in order to justify the horrendous action. The only ground you gain is that it is less bad than what it could be, and it certainly is not a defense in support for abortion.

Even if one wants to extrapolate that the fetus is property and the owner can choose to dispose of him/her, the text does not deem this permissible with slaves,

|20| When a man strikes his slave, male or female, with a rod and the slave dies under his hand, he shall be punished. |21| But if the slave survives a day or two, he is not to be punished; for the slave is his money.

The slave is still a human being. The master is not permitted to destroy him or her at will.

The most anti-pro-life position from this passage still would not condone the intentional killing of the child,—abortion—for there is no way to extrapolate from the text that the termination is still acceptable.

The Septuagint (LXX),—the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible—further supports my reading.

Implications of the Greek Translation of Exod 21:22–25 (LXX)

The translation of this pericope in the Septuagint differs significantly from the RSV’s rendering of the MT:

|22| Now if two men fight and strike a pregnant woman and her child comes forth not fully formed (μὴ ἐξεικονισμένον), he shall be punished with a fine. According as the husband of the woman might impose, he shall pay with judicial assessment.

|23| But if it is fully formed (ἐξεικονισμένον), he shall pay life for life, |24| eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, |25| burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe. (NETS)

Notice that there is no confusion concerning who the victim is; it is the child. The translator of Exodus clearly read the Hebrew text similarly to how I read it—the woman is not the subject of concern. Though, it is important that the “fatal accident” is not directly translated.

Rather, the Septuagint contains the distinction between a “not fully formed” or “fully formed” child. The result, though, is that a punishment is still applied in the case of a premature birth. This indicates either a mistranslation, that he understood ‘sn as an indication of the developmental stage of the child, or the translator injected his own beliefs on the child’s growth in the womb.

Interestingly, though not all that helpful, in Gen 42:4, 42:38, 44:29, this translator rendered ‘sn as μαλακία/μαλακισθῆναι, “softness, weakness, ailment.”

Concluding Remarks on Exodus 21

In summary, this was a lengthier explanation to say even the ancient Israelites considered a child in the womb as worthy of “life for life.”

Even if, for the sake of argument, I am incorrect in my assessment of the Hebrew, the Greek text shows a shift in understanding, and we will see this development again in Josephus and Philo—1c. Jewish writers. Within the context of Christianity, it will become even more apparent that this passage cannot be used to justify abortion.

The prophetic texts that we will now examine add further confirmation that the unborn child is considered valuable, created specifically by God for a purpose.

Jeremiah 1:5 | Jeremiah’s Call & Commission in Utero

The opening of Jeremiah begins with the prophet’s calling before he is even born,

|4| Now the word of the Lord came to me saying,
|5| “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
and before you were born I consecrated you;
I appointed you a prophet to the nations.”

There is no designation of when life begins or any argument concerning at what moment the soul entered Jeremiah, but the Lord clearly indicates that the unborn child is more than just “property.”

This formula is obviously an exaggerated and poetic way of saying God chose Jeremiah extremely early, but it still reveals how the unborn were perceived. That said, we are not required to believe poetic means hyperbolic. The text clearly intends to reflect that Jeremiah was chosen before birth. Jeremiah was a beautifully and wonderfully made human who was destined to speak for God.

Jack Lundborn (Jeremiah 1–20, 231), notes that this expression is not limited to just Jeremiah; it can also be seen in Isaiah: “formed in the womb” (Isa 44:2, 24; 49:5), and “called from the womb” (Isa 49:1).

He notes for the NT,

John the Baptist is filled with the Holy Spirit ‘from the womb’ (Luke 1:15), and Jesus’ infilling with the Holy Spirit is announced before birth (Matt 1:20; Luke 1:35). The clearest echo of the present call comes in Paul’s statement in Gal 1:15, where he says, “(God) set me apart before I was born.”

To hang your hat on a legal text from Exodus—that a fetus is mere property—to justify the moral acceptability of abortion intentionally ignores or disregards the significance of how the unborn are described elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible.

Psalm 139:13–16 | The Inescapable God

Contained within Psalm 139 is a clear and apparent conceptualization of Hebrew thought that a child is a person that is chosen and crafted by God within his or her mother,

|13| For it was you who formed my inward parts;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
|14| I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
that I know very well.
|15| My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
|16| Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.
In your book were written
all the days that were formed for me,
when none of them as yet existed.

Again, this is not a passage concerned with abortion, but the psalmist—purported “Psalm of David”—describes the intricate role that God plays in the formation of each and every human being. The Lord cares for all his creation, and he is involved in their formation.

Were we all just property prior to exiting our mother’s womb, the logic of this text makes little sense.

A. Weiser comments,

For the Old Testament idea of creation makes quite clear both that man’s whole existence belongs not to himself but totally to God and has no meaning without him, and also that God is actively involved in it right from the beginning, not only as knowing about it but as controlling and molding it and effecting the whole thing” (The Psalms, 804–805).

The way in which the Hebrew Bible presents children in the womb betrays a conceptualization that life can be easily disregarded just because they have not yet “come forth.”

The Hebrew Bible never presents an ontological change once a child has exited the womb. Rather, the evidence clearly shows that a human life was considered precious even before conception occurs. God knows our days, our lives, and our personage even before he knits us together.

Luke 1:41–44 | John the Baptist Jumps for Joy in the Womb

The Gospel of Luke begins with two miraculous conceptions: John the Baptist and Jesus. The Evangelist records that the presence of the Lord was apparent,

|41| And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the babe leaped in her womb (τὸ βρέφος ἐν τῇ κοιλίᾳ αὐτῆς); and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit |42| and she exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! |43| And why is this granted me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? |44| For behold, when the voice of your greeting came to my ears, the babe in my womb (τὸ βρέφος ἐν τῇ κοιλίᾳ μου) leaped for joy. |45| And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.”

In the NT, it is an unborn baby, John the Baptist, who recognizes Jesus.

François Bovon and Helmut Koester comment,

The child leaps for joy in the mother’s womb (vv. 41, 44), which here attains the nature of a sign. God makes use not only of words but also of body language. In antiquity, people made predictions about the future of children from the signs and wonders surrounding their birth. Just as Esau and Jacob anticipate their future relationship already in their mother’s womb (Gen 25:22–28), the Baptist even now exercises his prophetic function as precursor” (Luke 1, 58–59).

Additionally, they provide other instances of unborn children who parallel John the Baptist:

• Targum to Ps 68:27, “Praise God, you embryos in the womb, you seed of Israel!”

• Odes Sol. 28.2, “My heart continually refreshes itself and leaps for joy, like the babe who leaps for joy in his mother’s womb.”

It is wholly dishonest to assume that the NT would present Jesus and John in this way, yet abortion would be conceptualized as a permissible act. These texts so far have illustrated that there is value and importance in children who have yet to “come forth” and exit the womb.

Jesus and John were treated as people in the womb. They are critical characters in Salvation History, and their worth and significance starts even before they were born.

Synthesis of OT and NT Texts

One must truly twist the presentation of the unborn in Scripture and the Jewish understanding of life to justify abortion. And, a significant starting place from Scripture to justify this evil derives from a legal text in Exodus.

We do not determine what is life or our personal philosophies based upon legal systems, so we should not impose this upon the ancients. An action might be legal and yet immoral.

Our conceptualization of ethics and morality certainly are not—nor should they ever be—contingent upon how the law has potentially constructed something.

We do not determine our moral systems based upon a legal standard. Reading the Old and New Testament holistically, it is repugnant to suggest that life in the womb is not sacred.

Extra-Biblical Sources (Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, Josephus, and Philo)

Although these works are non-canonical, they reveal other ancient perspectives in the Jewish milieu that help form our understanding of how unborn children and abortion were perceived in antiquity. Reading and comprehending these texts help us also situate the writings contained in the NT, as well as developed beliefs in the Early Church.

Each of these instances condemns abortion and infanticide, which illustrates that the Jewish people leading up to the 1c. and after condemned this practice:

• 1 Enoch 99.5 (300–200BC [early parts]; 100BC [later parts])

In those days, they (the women) shall become pregnant, but they (the sinners) shall come out and abort their infants and cast them out from their midst; they shall (also) abandon their (other) children, casting their infants out while they are still suckling. They shall neither return to them (their babes) nor have compassion upon their beloved ones.” (transl. Charlesworth, OTP)

• Pseudo-Phocylides 184–185 (1c. BC–1c. AD)

|184| Do not let a woman destroy the unborn babe in her belly/ |185| nor after its birth throw it before the dogs and the vultures as a prey (Charlesworth, OTP)

• Sibylline Oracles 2.279–82 (Dating uncertain, debated, possibly as late as 3c. AD)

Again, those who defiled the flesh by licentiousness,
or as many as undid the girdle of virginity
by secret intercourse, as many as aborted
what they carried in the womb, as many as cast forth their offspring unlawfully.(Charlesworth, OTP)

• Josephus, Against Apion, 2.25 (late 1c., early 2c. AD)

The law, moreover, enjoins us to bring up all our offspring, and forbids women to cause abortion (ἀμβλοῦν) of what is begotten, or to destroy (διαφθείρειν) it afterward; and if any woman appears to have so done, she will be a murderer of her child, by destroying a living creature, and diminishing human kind; if any one, therefore, proceeds to such fornication or murder, he cannot be clean. (Whiston)

• Philo, Hypothetica, 7.7 (1c. AD)

That no one shall eradicate the generative powers of a man. That no one shall cause the offspring of women to be abortive by means of miscarriage, or by any other contrivance (Yonge).

It is critical to understand the Jewish world in which the NT was written because these texts did not spring up with no context.

Jews in the first century did not condone abortion, nor did they believe it to be a good thing. It was considered murder, as Josephus himself even claims, which shows an apparent respect for life in the mother’s womb.

Although the NT never directly comments on this action, it will be onerous to convince anyone that Jews around that time found the practice acceptable. Within this literary context, it should be assumed that abortion was condemned because you will be hard pressed to find anyone justifying it.

Life was considered precious, especially that of a child. To believe that the apostles and their successors would justify the ending of life in the womb is absolutely preposterous, and the Church has denounced abortion since its conception.

Early Church & Patristic Writings

Just like the OT, the NT never directly addresses the topic of abortion. That said, using logic, reason, and philosophy, it is not difficult to extrapolate that abortion was condemned, as we just explored.

In turn, the Early Church was exceptionally clear on its stance concerning abortion and infanticide.

In the Apostolic Fathers,—a collection of our earliest non-canonical texts written after the NT, or contemporaneously in some cases—there are two texts which clearly condemn abortion:

• Didache 2.2 (ca. 100AD, disputed)

You shall not abort a child (φονεύσεις τέκνον ἐν φθορᾷ) or commit infanticide.

• Epistle of Barnabas 19.5, 20.2 (1 or 2c. AD)

You shall not abort a child (οὐ φονεύσεῖς τέκνον ἐν φθορᾷ) nor, again, commit infanticide. (19.5)

...(they) do not know the one who made them, are murders of children (φονεῖς τέκνων), corrupters (φθορεῖς) of God’s creation...” (20.2)

These two early documents show there was an aversion to abortion in the Church.

Now, there are two other texts from the NT Apocrypha—the Apocalypse of Peter 8 and the Apocalypse of Paul 40—that have much more developed discussions on abortion and infanticide, but they are too lengthy to include.

As for early patristic literature, I will provide some quotations to illustrate that abortion has been denounced in the Church throughout the centuries, and it should still be considered an evil practice for the modern Church.

• Tertullian, Apologeticum 9.8 (2c. AD)

For us, since murder has been forbidden, it is also not permitted to dissolve what is conceived in the womb while the blood is being formed into a human being. It is an anticipation of murder to keep one from being born; nor does it make a difference whether one takes the life of one already born, or disturbs one in the process of being born: even the one who is going to be a human being is one.

• St. Hippolytus of Rome, Refutation of All Heresies 9.7 (3c. AD)

Women who were reputed believers began to resort to drugs for producing sterility. They also girded themselves around, so as to expel what was being conceived. For they did not wish to have a child by either slave or by any common fellow – out of concern for their family and their excessive wealth. See what a great impiety the lawless one has advanced! He teaches adultery and murder at the same time!

• St. Jerome, Epistle 22 §13 (4c. AD)

Some go so far as to take potions, that they may insure barrenness, and thus murder human beings almost before their conception. Some, when they find themselves with child through their sin, use drugs to procure abortion, and when (as often happens) they die with their offspring, they enter the lower world laden with the guilt not only of adultery against Christ but also of suicide and child murder.

• St. Basil the Great, Epistle 188 §2 (4c. AD)

The woman who purposely destroys her unborn child is guilty of murder. With us there is no nice enquiry as to its being formed or unformed. In this case it is not only the being about to be born who is vindicated, but the woman in her attack upon herself; because in most cases women who make such attempts die. The destruction of the embryo is an additional crime, a second murder, at all events if we regard it as done with intent.

• St.Augustine, “De nuptiis et concupiscentia” 1:15 (5c. AD)

At times their lustful cruelty or cruel lust goes so far as to obtain poisons to cause sterility; and if this does not work, to somehow extinguish and destroy the fetus conceived within the womb, wishing the offspring to be killed before living, or if it was living in the womb, to be killed before being born.

The Church has remained uncompromising on this topic. It is not until the modern period that some wish to attack this firmly held belief.

A Modern Perspective

Today, the Catholic Church has been quite clear on its stance concerning abortion and the preservation of life. In the Catechism of the Catholic Church, the full discussion of abortion and the Catholic Church’s view can be found in paragraphs 2270–2275.

Briefly, the Church holds,

Since it must be treated from conception as a person, the embryo must be defended in its integrity, cared for, and healed, as far as possible, like any other human being. (CCC 2274)

There is not question or doubt how the Church feels about this modern evil that is considered permissible in our twisted society. Pope Francis remarked in September of 2024 the Church’s unwavering position on the morality of abortion:

Women have the right to life: their own life and the lives of their children. Let’s not forget to say this: abortion is murder. Science tells you that within a month of conception, all the organs are already there. A human being is killed. And doctors who engage in this are—allow me the word—hitmen. They are hitmen. This cannot be disputed. A human life is killed. And women have the right to protect life.

Concluding Thoughts

Within the confines of Christianity, pro-choice sentiments are an indefensible position to hold. The above analysis and Church teachings make it abundantly clear that the destruction of life is vile. It is evil. It is contrary to nature. It is an abominable practice that must be eradicated.

Even in antiquity, abortion was not condoned, and it was not seen as justifiable. This should come as no surprise since it is antithetical to our humanity and our biology to destroy our children no matter the circumstance.

What is most disturbing in the modern debate on the ethics of abortion is the supporting rhetoric. The pro-choice movement fails to address the morality of the issues. Rather than actually critique the position, the lion share of justifications are just distractions:

• Dehumanizing language: it’s just a fetus, a clump of cells

• Why don’t pro-lifers adopt more—they do, but let’s avoid the astronomically absurd cost to adopt

• Women’s rights—as if the unborn have none

• When does life begin?—a sidestep of the issue

• Rape & incest—as if responding to one evil with another is justifiable

• The child will grow up in poverty—so life has less value if you are poor?

• Debilitating conditions or mental deficiencies—implying these people have an inferior quality of life

The rhetoric is intentional; the argumentation is deliberate to obfuscate the moral dilemma. As masterfully—and much more eloquently than I am able—wrote in his recent piece on IVF,

There is a troubling parallel here with the so-called ‘rape exception’ in abortion debates. In both cases, a principle affirmed in one context—that human life is inviolable from conception—is quietly set aside when the circumstances become sufficiently difficult or emotionally charged. The logic is the same: at the threshold of maximal suffering, the principle is reinterpreted not as a truth to be upheld but as a burden to be relieved. But if the dignity of the person is truly inalienable, it cannot be suspended when adherence to it becomes costly. Either the principle holds in all cases, or it holds in none.

The Pallinode

Blessed Is the Fruit of Thy Test Tube?

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8 months ago · 14 likes · 2 comments · Will Anselm

But, this is a more extreme case. This is not the normal course for most abortions.

Rather, the discomfort of bringing forth a new life into the world may be avoided if the mother is inconvenienced or must suffer;—physically or mentally—all that is required is a wish to eliminate the stressor with no justification necessary in the West.

The greatest evil in today’s modern society—seemingly—is suffering, which disregards and rejects the Christian ideal that to die is to gain (cp. Phil 1:21). Are we not called to suffer, to take up our cross and follow Christ (cp. Mark 8:34; also John 16:21–22)?

How, then, does the intentional destruction of life for convenience cohere with these Christian ideals?

Even if we jettison the burden of suffering, mere preference can take hold of the discussion. When you consider how children who are diagnosed with Down’s syndrome are eliminated 60% of the time in the U.S., 98% in Denmark, 90% in Europe, and Iceland proudly proclaims they have eliminated the syndrome entirely, you begin to ponder and realize this is just a disgusting display of eugenics. Check out this article, if you are in doubt.

When 95% of all abortions are elective and have nothing to do with rape, incest, or medical complications, those arguments for the necessity of abortive “healthcare” fall absolutely flat; see here. It is repugnant to think that we as a culture have allowed the termination of life for convenience, and we fail to reflect on the moral repercussions of these actions.

UPDATE: 28 April 2026

Considering the gruesome methodology for how this end is met, is unconscionable. The clear and apparent discomfort just further indicates that these modes of removing a life from a mother are sick, they are grotesque, and they are evil.

https://x.com/i/status/2049160492438917349

I cannot fathom attempting to defend such procedures, which further reinforces how unethical any apologetics for abortion are.

The slippery slope then leads to genetic preference. Where then is the line? Is eye color an acceptable excuse? Is IQ? Is strength? What disorders are ethically permissible to eliminate? This then leads to genetic tampering and selection based on optimal traits, which devolves into a far more complicated discussion, which travels beyond the scope of this paper.

Consider how many children of Gen X, Millennials, Gen Z, and Gen Alpha we have lost because of preference or convenience. These decisions are not made on philosophically justifiable grounds. Rather, it is for career, disinterest, or reluctance to grow up and accept our biological telos, our ecclesial and societal responsibility.

The immature progeny of past generations—their refusal to grow up, marry, and rear children—will forever be a blight on contemporary history that will take decades if not a century to remedy, if it is even possible or desired.

The selfish impulse to remain unburdened by a child will forever haunt my generation, and it is a specter I hope and pray future generations will exorcise.

As for the modern “church,” probably one of the most disturbing videos I’ve seen is from a “minister” who had the audacity to bastardize the beatitudes, “preaching,” “blessed are those who end pregnancies, for they will be known for their loving kindness”:

Not only is it antithetical to the Gospel, but it shows a complete disregard for—if not ignorance of—Church history and teachings.

Additionally, what sick and twisted logic must be employed to arrive at the conclusion that an abortion is loving? That it is kindness? In what world does a Christian appeal to and distort the words of Christ to emotionally assuage their conscience because deep within the pit of their being they know this action was vile; it was evil.

To appeal to our Lord and Savior—the Author of Life—who also claimed, “Let the children come to me, do not hinder them; for to such belongs the kingdom of God” (Mark 10:14, RSV) to justify this heinous practice is revolting.

It is a distortion of the Gospel to proclaim this filth from the pulpit.

Now, when it comes to our political sphere, I am an absolute political vagabond, especially considering the previous clowns we just had in the circus we call an election.

It is easy to have contempt for Kamala who makes insensitive statements concerning your faith:

First and foremost, no one wants to tell women what to do or to have control over their bodies; the concern is about the child. Again, notice the destructive rhetoric to obfuscate. The disregard for religious, moral convictions and the strawman argumentation are entirely disingenuous.

But, on the right, Trump and Melania have horrible statements that are as dyspeptic.

If you even begin to speak out that Trump is not the pro-life Messiah or “the most pro-life president ever,” be prepared for the dogpiling. E.g.,

It is typically satisfying being right, but in this instance, I find it sickening. Not only are we commanded to stomach the lies that Trump is a pro-life advocate, but then we are demanded to tolerate his wife, who produced this masterpiece:

What a sick, twisted society we have become where our Pro-Life Messiah is just another sycophant for the altar of modernity, perfectly comfortable discarding life for political gain, and yet our “conservative” “Christians” defend this heinous mentality.

We are at a place as a culture, as Christians, where it is morally incumbent to speak up and defend the most helpless in our society: the unborn. For, they have no voice with which to speak. They have no means of defending themselves. They are reliant completely on the voices and actions of those willing to defend them, and it is within the Church that this must be grounded.

The Author of Life does not wish to have us discard our children no matter the reason, for “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14) to save the world, not condemn it.

Abortion is an inversion of Christ’s action to take on flesh and redeem humanity; it is a denial of life. There is no justification for discarding the gift of life that God so graciously chose to give:

Lo, sons are a heritage from the Lord,
the fruit of the womb a reward. (Ps 127:3)

All women—all people—should long to hear the words, “blessed is the fruit of thy womb.” Not only is this a verse about the Messiah, but it is a distinct exclamation relevant for all humans—something we all should pray to experience, the joy that Mary also had.

This certainly was not the most pleasant topic, but it is a discussion that I believe we should take more seriously. It is one that could have ramifications for centuries, and abortion should be considered the greatest evil of our modern times.

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Now, we continue our examination, which will now focus on another quotation (v. 18). This section begins with further warnings and then progresses to exhortations.

A Teaching from the Apostles (vv. 17–19)

Jude begins this transition with an appeal to the Apostles:

|17| But you must remember, beloved, the [predictive words (ῥημάτων τῶν προειρημένων)] of the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ; |18| they said to you,

“In the last time there will be [deceivers (ἐμπαῖκται)], following their own ungodly (τῶν ἀσεβειῶν) passions.”

|19| It is these who set up divisions, worldly people (ψυχικοί), devoid of the Spirit (πνεῦμα μὴ ἔχοντες).

This transition, though, is not speaking to those in the community about themselves. Rather, it is continued reproach of the “ungodly” in the community.

Before we discuss what exactly this additional reproach is, there are a few details that must be examined.

Is Jude an Apostle?

Based on the phrasing here, on first read it could be easy to see this statement as exclusive. Jude is providing an unknown—to us, anyway for this is the only attestation—quotation from “the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ,” which certainly seems like he is not including himself. One might expect the author to throw in an “I” or indicate that he should be considered part of this group.

That said, this could also be understood as a direct appeal to some form of oral tradition that was circulating at the time of the letter’s composition. If this was a commonly known apostolic—or at the very least, a phrase that was attributed to the apostles—saying, then the phraseology is not necessarily exclusive.

It could be a reference to a common teaching that was circulating in the Early Church, and this is the only record we possess. As such, it would not necessarily exclude the author from the apostolic office.

As we discussed in the introduction, though, the authorship of this epistle is difficult. Is it Jude, the brother of James, the half-brother of our Lord? Is it a different Jude? This phrase could swing either way. It could indicate that this is a different Jude, not one of the apostles. Or, he is appealing to a tradition, and it does not reveal anything about himself or his title.

There is not enough data to be conclusive on this point, but at the very least, the epistle contains a piece of oral tradition that was never documented elsewhere.

The Quotation

This is the only record we have of this quotation. This is not an uncommon aspect of Scripture, though, where something is referenced—a tradition (1 Cor 15:29) or text—and we have no other attestation of it.

For instance, Paul appeals to the words of Christ in Acts 20:35,

“It is more blessed to give than to receive.”

This is not a known saying amongst the logoi of Christ from the canonical Gospels. This is potentially Jesus tradition.

As for this quotation in Jude, the closest parallel we have is 2 Peter 3:3,

First of all you must understand this, that [deceivers (ἐμπαῖκται)] will come in the last days with [deceiving (ἐμπαιγμονῇ)], following their own passions (τὰς ⸄ἰδίας ἐπιθυμίας αὐτῶν).

But, this is problematic because, as we have seen, there are significant links between 2 Peter and Jude in places, which could indicate dependency.

One might think deceivers/mockers/scoffers would be a key to understanding the potential parallels, but this word ἐμπαῖκται (empaiktai) appears in the NT only here and 2 Peter 3. In the LXX, it shows up only in Isa 3:4,

καὶ ἐπιστήσω νεανίσκους ἄρχοντας αὐτῶν, καὶ ἐμπαῖκται κυριεύσουσιν αὐτῶν.

And I will place youths as your rulers, and deceivers/mockers/scoffers will lord over you.

As tempting as it might be to assume this lordship language accompanied with deceivers might be a path for understanding the origins of the quotation, this appears more coincidental than related.

The word—from my brief search—does not appear in the OTP. As such, this may simply go back to the oral tradition of the Apostles, and it is not dependent on another phrase.1

Now, the reason for this quotation cropping up here is apparent when we look at the repeated use of “godless” in the epistle. This quotation, just like 1 Enoch 1:9, is being applied to those who rejected Jesus as Lord and squandered their gift of grace from God. But this time, it is used in relation to their “passions” or “desires.”

The purpose of the quotation is also relatively clear: the Apostles warned you these types of people would attempt to infiltrate the Church and lead it astray for their own benefit.

The quotation is then followed up with a pinch of explanation. These ungodly people will divide and lack the Spirit—akin to 1 John 3:24, 4:13. Those in the community, those who abide in him—to use Johannine language—will have the Spirit, and they will not seek their own “godless desires.”

Concluding Thoughts on the Quotation

So, continuing his line of thought, Jude further chastises the ungodly of the community. He has referenced multiple images from Jewish history; he has appealed to nature; he has quoted 1 Enoch; and now most recently he has employed apostolic tradition.

The epistle is making it clear to the readers that those who cause others inside the Church to sin or—worse—to fall away will be met with divine judgment. It is his wish and desire to encourage those who have encountered these “ungodly” infiltrators to stay strong in the faith and resist temptation.

Exhortations and Warning (vv. 20–23)

Now, Jude shifts to exhortations for the community:

|20| But you, beloved, build yourselves up on your most holy faith; pray in the Holy Spirit; |21| keep yourselves in the love of God; wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life. |22| And convince some, who [are to be judged/are separated/dispute (διακρινομένους)]; |23| save some, by snatching them out of the fire; on some have mercy with fear, hating even the garment spotted by the flesh.

These verses are some of the most text critically contentious verses in the NT. We will not delve into the complexities of what is most likely original here, but we will follow the RSV (and the NA28) for evaluating these verses.

An Encouragement (vv. 20–21) and a Command (vv. 22–23a)

Vv. 17 and 20 have an identical transitional phrase: Ὑμεῖς δέ (humeis de), “But you…” This is a common way an author shifts from one person/subject matter to another. In both vv. 17 and 20, the author is rhetorically signaling a move to another topic.

In v. 17, Jude is addressing the community about how the Apostles predicted these infiltrators when the Church was being established.

In v. 20, Jude is addressing the community directly, expounding on how they are able to keep the Faith.

The topics are reversed from the opening of the letter. V. 17 corresponds with v. 4 and v. 20 with v. 3:

Beloved, being very eager to write to you of our common salvation, I found it necessary to write appealing to you to contend for the faith which was once for all delivered to the saints. (Jude 3)

How is this achieved, per v. 20?

1. Pray in the Holy Spirit

2. Abide in the Love of God

3. Anticipate the mercy of Christ which will lead to Eternal Life

But, that is not all the community is called to do. In v. 22, Jude commands the Church to seek out others who have fallen away. Even though the majority of the letter has condemned the “godless” infiltrators, he has hope of reconciliation.

He goes so far as to beg these early Christians to “save some, by snatching them out of the fire” (v. 23), which resonates with v. 7 (the fires that consumed Sodom and Gomorrah; and potentially v. 11, the followers of Korah [Num 16:35, Sir 45:18–19]—as we discussed). Even though some have abandoned the community and attempted to pollute others, Jude leaves open the possibility of their redemption—yet some will still fall away permanently.

This group is ambiguous, though. Does it refer to the “godless” teachers or to those whom they have misled? Jude is not particularly clear here as to which group can be snatched from the “fire.” Perhaps both are in mind.

If this reference to fire and judgment is akin to that in v. 7, the more positive reading is that those “godless” people who corrupted others—who squandered their Grace and denied the Lordship of Christ (v. 4)—could still repent, be saved, and restored to the Church.

Of Dirty Garments (23b)

Considering how interconnected this letter is and the constant allusions to other OT narratives and Jewish tradition, it is hard not to see something lurking underneath the text here:

on some have mercy with fear, hating even the garment spotted by the flesh.

The first part of the verse is fairly straightforward: continue this missional work of saving others from the fires of eternal judgment,—mercy—but approach them with trepidation,—fear—for they might corrupt you in the process.

The second part of the verse,

τὸν ἀπὸ τῆς σαρκὸς ἐσπιλωμένον χιτῶνα

The garment stained by the flesh

is tantalizing. What exactly does Jude have in mind? Is it just a coincidental phrase, or is there an appeal to something else here?

First, the word here for “stained” (σπιλόω) is an uncommon word in the NT appearing here and in James 3:6,

And the tongue is a fire. The tongue is an unrighteous world among our members, staining the whole body (σπιλοῦσα ὅλον τὸ σῶμα), setting on fire the cycle of nature, and set on fire by hell.

There may be points of contact here that seem relevant: Staining (obviously), the community, fire/hell.

That said, this is tenuous, and it is better explained by an Early Christian understanding of what corruption can do to the Body of Christ. James and Jude are not dependent on each other for this idea.

In the Septuagint (LXX), the word appears once in Wis 15:4,

But thou, our God, art kind and true,
patient, and ruling all things in mercy.
|2| For even if we sin we are thine, knowing thy power;
but we will not sin, because we know that we are accounted thine.
|3| For to know thee is complete righteousness,
and to know thy power is the root of immortality.
|4| For neither has the evil intent of human art misled us,
nor the fruitless toil of painters,
a figure stained (σπιλωθὲν) with varied colors,
|5| whose appearance arouses yearning in fools,
so that they desire the lifeless form of a dead image.
|6| Lovers of evil things and fit for such objects of hope
are those who either make or desire or worship them.

Although v. 2 is intriguing to contemplate considering sinlessness in 1 John 5:18, it has no direct application here. Additionally, sin in Wisdom 15 is not relevant considering the stained figure in v. 4 is concerned with idol polemics. This is not the context of Jude,—perhaps it is in 1 John 5:12, “Little children, keep yourselves from idols”—so an appeal to Wisdom is unlikely.

The word also appears once in the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (OTP)—T. Ash 2.7—but it speaks of a stained soul, not garments, in relation to breaking commandments.

R. Bauckham, 2 Peter, Jude, 116ff. suggests Zech 3:3–4 (MT),

|3| Now Joshua was standing before the angel, clothed with filthy garments (LXX: ἐνδεδυμένος ἱμάτια ῥυπαρὰ). |4| And the angel said to those who were standing before him, “Remove the filthy garments from him.” And to him he said, “Behold, I have taken your iniquity away from you, and I will clothe you with rich apparel.”

The LXX has no lexical parallel here, so we must assume a thematic connection if we are to believe that this is the allusion behind Jude 23b.

What helps solidify this connection comes from Zech 3:2,

And the Lord said to Satan, “The Lord rebuke you, O Satan! The Lord who has chosen Jerusalem rebuke you! Is not this a brand plucked from the fire?”

The phrase “The Lord rebuke you” is quoted in Jude 9 by the Archangel Michael when disputing with Satan over Moses’ body—again, likely dependent on the Assumption of Moses, at the very least the tradition. This, then, could very well be in Jude’s mind when referencing the “filthy garment” since he certainly is familiar with Zech 3:2.

The other resonances with “plucked” and “fire” assuredly seem fitting considering what Jude just requested of the community in v. 23. As for a lexical connection with “pluck,” though, there is not one:

ἁρπάζοντες (ἁρπάζω)—Jude 23

ἐξεσπασμένος (ἐκσπάω)—Zech 3:2 LXX

מֻצָּ֥ל—Zech 3:2 MT

But, even if this is in mind, the context of Zechariah 3 does not seem all that relevant other than the potential of redemption. If this passage is in Jude’s mind, it may indicate that although the “godless” have sullied tunics as of now, they may still be redeemed and clothed in fine garments:

“Behold, I have taken your iniquity away from you, and I will clothe you with rich apparel.” (Zech 3:4).

Regardless, that is not apparent, even if it is a nice image—those who are sinful and stained may dress anew in beautiful clothes bereft of excrement.

The directive and warning, though, are clear: when showing mercy to these ones, in an attempt to snatch them from the fire, beware of their carnal sins and temptations. And, that could very well be the simple message with no ties to another text directly, but Jude is steeped in Scripture and the image was appealing—this for me seems most probable.

Concluding Thoughts on the Exhortation

The moral of these verses is something that I believe can apply to us all: be merciful to any who fall away from the faith. You never know what impact you might have to draw them back into the Church; no one is forever lost. There is always a chance.

In doing so, be cautious of not falling into sinful ways that may be tempting. Although Jude has something specifically in mind concerning those who departed from the community and tempted others with (sexual) sins, the idea persists and applies even now. We should always be cautious with whom we associate, even in ministerial endeavors.

The Doxology (vv. 24–25)

We come to the closing remarks of the epistle,

|24| Now to him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you without blemish before the presence of his glory with rejoicing, |25| to the only God, our Savior through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and for ever. Amen.

The previous exhortation from Jude concerned saving others from the eternal fires while also not being corrupted in the process—“on some have mercy with fear, hating even the garment spotted by the flesh.”

Jude then concludes with a doxology, giving praise to God, while also reassuring the community that he will not allow them to fall away. By not falling away, they are then to be presented “in the presence of [God’s] glory,” but “without blemish” (ἀμώμους).

This term, “without blemish” (ἀμώμους), appears 83 times in the Septuagint (LXX) and 8 times in the New Testament, Eph 1:4, 5:27; Phil 2:15; Col 1:22; Heb 9:14; 1 Peter 1:19; Jude 24; Rev 14:5.

Many of the instances in the NT apply to Jesus as a blameless sacrificial victim, but there are other instances—as in Jude—where the believer is offered up.

As R. Bauckham, 2 Peter, Jude, 122 comments,

Of these, Jude 24; 1 Thess 3:13; Eph 5:27; and Col 1:22 are eschatological in reference, and all of them use the sacrificial metaphor; Christians are to be presented before God as sacrificial victims without blemish.

This idea is underscored by the use of ἄμωμος in the LXX—the sacrificial victims are supposed to be “without blemish,” e.g., Exod 29:1; Lev 1:3; Numb 6:14; Ezek 43:22.

When used in relation to Christ, this makes good sense: he who has no sin, a spotless sacrifice without blemish:

how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify your conscience from dead works to serve the living God. (Heb 9:14)

but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot. (1 Peter 1:19)

But, what does that mean for the Christian to be presented before God’s glory without blemish?

Are we to read this as meaning that the Christian should be without sin when we approach God? If so, how is that achieved? Jude does not give us an explanation in this doxology, but is the assumption that Jesus’ sacrifice is sufficient?

Or, is this a possible parallel with 1 John 5:18 and its (potentially) perfectionist position:

We know that any one born of God does not sin, but He who was born of God keeps him, and the evil one does not touch him.

Based on the grammar, it appears that the former may be in mind. The doxology begins with a statement of what God is able to do: keep you from falling. The connective “and” makes the next infinitive—“to present you without blemish”—contingent upon what God is able to do.

Thus, the closing is a praise to God: to the one who is able to guard us and present us blameless with rejoicing. Jude states it definitively who he has in mind in what follows: “to the only God, our savior.”

Lastly, Jude states how God is able to do these actions; it is through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Jude is playing off of the Christological title “Lord,” which is what was used in the LXX for translating YHWH (the name of God). This is akin to Jude 4,

They deny our only master and Lord (κύριον) Jesus Christ.

And, in v. 8

They reject his Lordship (κυριότητα).

The doxology here is further emphasizing the importance of Jesus as Lord which the godless ones in the community have been denying—one of their many sins.

Jude is ambiguous on the precise relationship between God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ,—meaning, it is not detailed explicitly because the belief is assumed—but this text is, in part, concerned about Christology. It is clear from the epistle that some infiltrators in the community—the godless ones—have denied Jesus as Lord. This doxology is just one more statement emphasizing their error, while stating the truth of Jesus’ status and the power and authority of God.

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It would also be beneficial to have read the entire epistle before engaging with this material. Now, I will continue with the commentary starting with v. 11.

More Examples of Judgment and Condemnation from the Old Testament (v. 11)

As in vv. 5–7, Jude now lists another string of parallels from the OT to condemn the “ungodly” people:

Woe to them! For they walk in the way of Cain, and abandon themselves for the sake of gain to Balaam’s error, and perish in Korah’s rebellion.

This is a typical Woe-formula that we see in the NT, such as Jesus in the Gospels (e.g., Matt 11:21, 18:7, 23:13–16, 26:24; Mark 13:17, 14:21; Luke 6:24–26; 10:13, 11:42–47; 17:1; 21:23, 22:22), and is also a prevalent aspect of 1 Enoch 92–105.

Here, there are three instances of judgement and condemnation that derive from the Old Testament, stories which you may not remember. Regardless, one must also be familiar with some developing Jewish traditions up to the first century to appreciate the gravity of what Jude is writing.

“They Walk in the Way of Cain” (Gen 4:8)

The most easily recognizable figure in this list is the son of Adam and Eve who murdered his brother Abel: Cain.

In the intertestamental period, Cain’s narrative, character, sin & punishment, and legacy are developed and expanded in Jewish literature—e.g., the Deuterocanonical books, the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, and Josephus.

His Death:

And at the close of this jubilee Cain was killed after him [Adam] in the same year; for his house fell upon him and he died in the midst of his house, and he was killed by its stones; for with a stone he had killed Abel, and by a stone was he killed in righteous judgment. Therefore it is ordained in the heavenly tablets: “With the weapons with which a man kills his fellow/ he shall be killed/ just as he wounded him,/ thus shall they do to him.” (Jubilees 4:31–32, transl. Wintermute [OTP])

His Cursed Lineage:

And he [Raphael] said to me: “This is the spirit which went forth from Abel, whom his brother Cain slew, and he makes his suit against him till his seed is destroyed from the face of the earth, and his seed is annihilated from amongst the seed of men.” (1 Enoch 22:7)

Blamed for the Flood:

But when an unrighteous man departed from her [Wisdom] in his anger, he perished because in rage he slew his brother. When the earth was flooded because of him, Wisdom again saved it, steering the righteous man [Noah] by a paltry piece of wood. (Wisdom 10:3–4—the temptation to relate “paltry piece of wood” to the cross is great)

Continued in his evil; brought about “cunning craftiness”:

However, he did not accept of his punishment, in order to amendment, but to increase his wickedness; for he only aimed to procure everything that was for his own bodily pleasure, though it obliged him to be injurious to his neighbors. He augmented his household substance with much wealth, by rapine and violence; he excited his acquaintance to procure pleasures and spoils by robbery, and became a great leader of men into wicked courses.

...he changed the world into cunning craftiness (Josephus, Ant. 1.2.2)

It would be too far to assume that the accusation here against the apostates is murder. Rather, it would not be stretch to believe that Jude is aware of this developed tradition about Cain, and they have fallen into depravity: corruption and greed; metaphorical children of this cursed figure.

In short, this is a condemnation for general corruption of the body of Christ.

Based on what is recorded in Genesis alone, the parallel is not quite as clear. As I will show in the following references, knowing the developing Jewish tradition is critical for having a better understanding of the condemnation of the apostates.

“Abandon[ed] themselves for the Sake of Gain to Balaam’s Error”

Balaam is probably less recognizable—except for maybe the donkey scenario (Num 22:21ff.)—since his story comes from Numbers, which most—when/if they read it—have their eyes glaze over from all the numbers.

His account starts in Numbers 22–24 where he is commanded by Balak, a Moabite king, to prophesy against Israel, but he is unable to do so.

His condemnation comes in Num 31:16

Behold, these [women] caused the people of Israel, by the counsel of Balaam, to act treacherously against the Lord in the matter of Pe′or, and so the plague came among the congregation of the Lord.

This increase in worship of Baal at Peor due to Israelite men having sexual relations with Moabite women is recorded in Numbers 25, but there is no mention of Balaam. Rather, it is understood based on the text that he was blamed for this increase, which was certainly the understanding in the first century as Josephus shows.

Josephus reports a speech in which Balaam tells Balak that the Hebrews cannot be conquered by war, plague, etc., so he should doll up some Midianite women in order to seduce the men, and these women, in turn, will then persuade the Hebrews to forsake their own laws “and the worship of [their] God who established them, and to worship the gods of the Midianites and Moabites” (Ant. 4.6.6). The result:

Now the young men were induced by the fondness they had for these [Midianite] women, to think they spake very well; so they gave themselves up to what they persuaded them, and transgressed their own laws; and supposing there were many gods, and resolving that they would sacrifice to them according to the laws of that country which ordained them, they both were delighted with their strange food, and went on to do everything that the women would have them do, though in contradiction to their own laws. (Ant. 4.6.9)

This same understanding is adopted in Revelation:

But I have a few things against you: you have some there who hold the teaching of Balaam, who taught Balak to put a stumbling block before the sons of Israel, that they might eat food sacrificed to idols and practice immorality (2:14)

Balaam is a negative figure, whose condemnation relates to sexual immorality—just like Sodom and Gomorrah—and false worship. This could be a tacit comment on the actions of the infiltrators Jude is chastising. They have led members astray through sexual immorality and their denial of Jesus’ lordship.

“And [They] Perish in Korah’s Rebellion”

Another example from Numbers, specifically chapters 16–17, Korah and a group of 250 rise up against Moses and challenge his authority. The result?

|31| And as he finished speaking all these words, the ground under them split asunder; |32| and the earth opened its mouth and swallowed them up, with their households and all the men that belonged to Korah and all their goods. |33| So they and all that belonged to them went down alive into Sheol; and the earth closed over them, and they perished from the midst of the assembly.

For rebelling against Moses and Aaron and attempting to usurp their authority over the people, they are punished by being swallowed up by the earth.

The punishment of the 250—consumed by fire (Num 16:35)—is conflated in Sirach 45:18–19, which is reminiscent to the punishment in Jude 7 concerning Sodom and Gomorrah:

|18| Outsiders conspired against him,

and envied him in the wilderness,

Dathan and Abi′ram and their men

and the company of Korah, in wrath and anger.

|19| The Lord saw it and was not pleased,

and in the wrath of his anger they were destroyed;

he wrought wonders against them

to consume them in flaming fire.

Josephus comments on their attempt to steal the authority of Moses and Aaron as follows:

Hereupon Moses, after these men were destroyed, was desirous that the memory of this judgment might be delivered down to posterity, and that future ages might be acquainted with it; and so he commanded Eleazar, the son of Aaron, to put their censers near the brazen altar, that they might be a memorial to posterity of what these men suffered, for supposing that the power of God might be eluded (Ant. 4.3.4)

Based on Josephus’s retelling, challenging the authority of Moses and Aaron was equivalent to challenging God.

Ultimately, Jude is wishing for divine wrath against these “ungodly persons” who have attempted to challenge authority.

Now, it is unclear if this is connected with Jude 8, where he discusses the rejection of authority. It seems clear that he intends that they rejected the authority of Jesus with the play on “Lord” in the Greek.

Here, though, with the example of Korah, it would appear ecclesiastical authority is in mind. Afterall, the rebellion was against Moses, specifically, though the text reads as contention with God as well.

It could be argued that the rejection of ecclesial authority is also a rejection of Christ’s lordship, too. If Jude has a particular idea in mind, I do not believe it is clear. We can deduce from the epistle as a whole, though, that the apostates rejected both Christ as Lord and the Church, so I believe there is likely a both-and in this reference, especially if Jude had a similar idea in mind as Josephus’s retelling.

Synthesis of Examples from the Old Testament

These additional three examples of villains in the OT parallel what was seen previously in Jude 5–7. Both emphasize rebellion, improper worship, and sexual immorality. Both lists include punishments for these sins.

At the core of the issue here, Jude is lambasting the corruption of the Church. These infiltrators, apostates, and godless people have besmirched the grace that God had given them by denying the authority of Christ. While doing so, they also led others to rebellion, seemingly, and corrupted them with sexual immorality.

Cain represents improper worship; Balaam aligns with temptation and sexual immorality, as well as improper worship; and Korah epitomizes sedition.

So, we see in these OT traditions, that these False Teachers are the embodiment of corruption. They were, in a way, prefigured in history, and Jude hopes for a swift and decisive divine punishment: “The Lord Rebuke You” (Jude 9)

Analogies from Nature & the Love Feast (vv. 12–13)

After appealing to a number of OT stories to condemn the apostates, Jude turns his condemnation to nature. He writes,

|12| These are [reefs (σπιλάδες)] in your love feasts, as they boldly [feast (συνευωχούμενοι)] together, looking after themselves; waterless clouds, carried along by winds; fruitless trees in late autumn, twice dead, uprooted; |13| wild waves of the sea, casting up the foam of their own shame; wandering stars for whom the nether gloom of darkness has been reserved for ever.

Rocky Reefs or Blemishes?

First, there is a dispute on how to render σπιλάδες, spilades, “reef.” RSV contains “blemishes” and others take this as a “stain” on the community. Problematically, this seems to be influenced by 2 Peter 2:12–13, which very well might be dependent on this verse:

|12| But these, like irrational animals, creatures of instinct, born to be caught and killed, reviling in matters of which they are ignorant, will be destroyed in the same destruction with them, |13| suffering wrong for their wrongdoing. They count it pleasure to revel in the daytime. They are blots and blemishes (σπίλοι καὶ μῶμοι), reveling in their dissipation, [feasting (συνευωχούμενοι)] with you.

The two words are nearly identical—σπιλάδες (spilades) and σπίλοι (spiloi)—but they are not the same word; additionally, the first (in Jude) is feminine and the second (in 2 Peter) is masculine.

Jude also enjoys employing vivid imagery,—vv. 12b–13—so it seems more natural that a shipwreck type metaphor—that is, the natural dangers of sailing—is in mind. The analogies from nature that follow seem to solidify this, especially since the author has transitioned from judgment and condemnation for wrongdoing in Jewish history.

This flow of the text makes more sense. As he just detailed three illustrations once (vv. 5–7) and then three again (v. 11),—with another intervening image (v. 10)—the repeated analogies from creation follow the pattern:

1. Reef

2. Waterless Clouds

3. Fruitless Trees

4. Wild Waves

5. Wandering Stars

To go from a natural occurring impediment to a list of 4 other examples makes far more analogical sense than starting with a vague appeal to “blemish” or “stain” and then transitioning to nature.

More importantly, though, what is the significance?

Just like the OT examples were illustrations of bad behavior and the consequences that resulted from such actions, now the “godless” persons are compared to natural occurrences that can lead to destruction.

1. A Reef—ships, unable to see a ref, could crash into them and sink.

2. Waterless Clouds—a useless natural occurrence; for, without water, what good is a cloud for crops? (Cp. Prov 25:14 [Hebrew])

3. Fruitless Trees—Akin to waterless clouds, if you bear no fruit, what good is a tree? (Cp. Jesus and the fig tree [Mark 11:12–14]; bad trees are chopped down [Matt 3:10])

4. Wild Waves—a dangerous natural phenomenon that causes disorder and possible shipwrecks (Cp. Isa 57:20 [Hebrew]; Wis 14:1)

5. Wandering Stars—in ancient cosmology, the universe (kosmos) is meant to be ordered (a full discussion is too long for here; I have written on this, but more in connection with the household).1 So, to wander aimlessly as stars would be extremely negative, and could impede proper navigation while at sea, leading to shipwreck (Cp. perhaps 1 Enoch 18:13–16; 21:3–6—possibly falling stars in Isa 14:12–15; sim. to Rev 8:10; 9:1).

Are these examples meant to point to specific transgressions of those who have infiltrated the Agape Meal? No, I do not believe so. Rather, it is a general comment on those who have corrupted the Church through their vile behavior and wicked teachings.

It is a condemnation through vivid imagery to illustrate the destruction that can ensue should they be followed:

They are a reef—hidden and dangerous—that can lead to destruction.

They are clouds that may look promising to water your crops and provide good food, but in reality they offer nothing to help you grow.

They are fruitless trees that bear no sustenance. They are good for nothing and offer nothing nutritious. They are dead trees, so they should be uprooted.

They are waves that crash and cause turmoil, producing filth that only stains.

They are stars with no path, which will mislead and guide you towards oblivion.2

The natural analogies would resonate with the audience perfectly. They are further illustrations from creation that show how those “godless” ones who deny the Lordship of Christ and squander their gift of grace can defile an entire community.

The Love Feast: The Lord’s Supper? The Eucharist?

This is the earliest attestation where this meal is described with the word love (ἀγάπαις, agapais). In Paul, this meal is greatly discussed in 1 Corinthians, where he calls it the Lord’s Supper:

|20| When you meet together, it is not the Lord’s supper that you eat. |21| For in eating, each one goes ahead with his own meal, and one is hungry and another is drunk. |22| What! Do you not have houses to eat and drink in? Or do you despise the church of God and humiliate those who have nothing? What shall I say to you? Shall I commend you in this? No, I will not. (1 Cor 11:20–23)

He discusses the meal more at length in 1 Cor 10:16–17 and 11:23–26.

As for other documentation in the NT, there is a clear reference in Luke when Jesus appears to two disciples (24:30–31)—it is at the breaking of bread (while they recline at table) that Jesus is revealed.

We then see this practice in the Early Church:

|42| And they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers… |46| And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they partook of food with glad and generous hearts, |47| praising God and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved. (Acts 2:42, 46–47)

The Eucharist was incorporated with a meal in our earliest attestations.

As for the meal being called a “Love Feast,” there is a variant reading in 2 Peter 2:13,

...reveling in their <love feasts (αγαπαις αυτων)>, [feasting (συνευωχούμενοι)] with you.

The variant is somewhat expected since 2 Peter is quite similar to Jude in places. This mistake is natural, and it is not confusing to see how it could have arisen in the transmission and copying of the text.

As for others in the Early Church, there is some variety.

In the Didache, it is called the Eucharist:

Now concerning the Eucharist, give thanks as follows. |2| First, concerning the cup:

We give you thanks, our Father,/ for the holy vine of David your servant,/ which you have made known to us/ through Jesus, your servant;/ to you be the glory forever.

|3| And concerning the broken bread:

We give you thanks, our Father,/ for the life and knowledge/ that you have made known to us/ through Jesus, your servant; to you be the glory forever.

Ignatius of Antioch (2c.) connects the two:

|1| Only that Eucharist which is under the authority of the bishop (or whomever he himself designates) is to be considered valid |2| Wherever the bishop appears, there let the congregation be; just as wherever Jesus Christ is, there is the catholic church. It is not permissible either to baptize or to hold a love feast (ἀγάπην) without the bishop. But whatever he approves is also pleasing to God, in order that everything you do may be trustworthy and valid. (Smyrn 8.1–2)

As for corroborating evidence of the Early Christian Practice,—he uses neither term—Pliny the Younger records,

They asserted, however, that the sum and substance of their fault or error had been that they were accustomed to meet on a fixed day before dawn and sing responsively a hymn to Christ as to a god, and to bind themselves by an oath, not to some crime, but not to commit theft, robbery, or adultery, not to break their word, nor to deny a trust when called upon to honor it. After this, it was their custom to disperse and then reassemble later to partake of food—but ordinary and innocent food. Even this, they said, they had ceased to do after my edict by which, in accordance with your instructions, I had forbidden political associations. (Epistulae 10.96)

This comment on “ordinary and innocent food” concerns many who thought Christians were cannibals on account of how they talked about the Eucharist, Christ’s body and blood, and partaking.

Here in Jude, there is clearly an appeal to the gathering of Christians for a meal, which likely included the Lord’s Supper/the Eucharist. These ungodly ones who are there are corrupting this meal—possibly similar to that in Corinth (see 1 Corinthians 10–11)?

The examples from the OT and the natural analogies are meant to illustrate how they are taking away from this gathering. They are corrupting the Church and destroying the intended community.

For such actions, Jude is hoping for judgment. And, this is a clear example—like in 1 Corinthians—that the Eucharist was an important ritual for the Earliest Christians. This was a time of community and worship, so these “godless” ones, these infiltrators have no business partaking in the Lord’s Supper.

1 Enoch in Jude (vv. 14–16)

The body of the epistle so far has been dealing with apostates who have polluted the community, and Jude has appealed to the Old Testament, Jewish tradition, and nature. Now, he will quote a book that is not in most canons, 1 Enoch.

|14| It was of these also that Enoch in the seventh generation from Adam prophesied, saying,

“Behold, the Lord came with his holy myriads, |15| to execute judgment on all, and to convict all the ungodly of all their deeds of ungodliness which they have committed in such an ungodly way, and of all the harsh things which ungodly sinners have spoken against him.”

|16| These are grumblers, malcontents, following their own passions, loud-mouthed boasters, flattering people to gain advantage.

Is 1 Enoch Canon?

The use of 1 Enoch in Jude is a complicated matter. Is 1 Enoch canon? Well, for most of Christianity, no. The Ethiopian Orthodox Church has it as part of their inspired works, and this is in part because the text is preserved in Classical Ethiopic (or, Ge’ez). So, too, Jubilees is part of their canon, and it also survives in Ge’ez. This is not a reason why, but Ethiopian Christians thought the texts were important, and so they continued to copy them and use them.

For 1c. Jews, though, would 1 Enoch be considered canon as, say, the Torah or the prophets? Probably not. But, it is important to note, that Judaism had not fully established their canon, nor had Christians, by the time Jude was writing this letter.

As such, we have to tread carefully about how we discuss what is “inspired” or “Scripture” when discussing the NT. This is a topic for a later time (see Metzger, The Canon of the New Testament: Its Origin, Development, and Significance), but it is important to note that these texts were circulated and read.

Bauckham, 2 Peter, Jude, 96, astutely notes on the use of “prophesied” and Enoch,

Ἐπφοψήτευσεν, “prophesied.” While this word indicates that Jude regarded the prophecies in 1 Enoch as inspired by God, it need not imply that he regarded the book as canonical Scripture. At Qumran, for example, the Enoch literature and other apocryphal works were evidently valued without being included in the canon of Scripture.

Even if 1 Enoch was not considered as canonical as Genesis or Isaiah, that does not mean it was not influential for early Christians. Jude in particular relies heavily on the document, as I have noted previously. If you peruse Bauckham’s commentary, he makes frequent notes on parallels with Jude and 1 Enoch. Regardless of the book’s status “officially,”—to use a loose term—the epistle writer felt comfortable quoting it directly in his letter.

The Quotation of 1 Enoch 1:9

I marked the text from 1 Enoch in the block quotation above to make it clear what is from Jude and what is 1 Enoch. There is some difficulty here, though, since the Greek of 1 Enoch has not been completely preserved like the Ge’ez—as I said previously.

As such, what we do possess to compare differs slightly:

Nota Bene: This comparison was done rather hastily, so the translations provided are more to show congruencies and divergences. I am not necessarily married to the precision of the translations—they are quite literal, syntactically rigid, and lexically uncritical—since I am focusing on comparing the texts of Jude and the surviving Greek of 1 Enoch 1:9.

As for the most complete witness of the text, 1 Enoch 1:9 (Ethiopic) reads,

Look, he comes with the myriads of his holy ones,/ to execute judgment on all,/ and to destroy all the wicked,/ and to convict all humanity/ for all the wicked deeds that they have done, and the proud and hard words that wicked sinners spoke against him. (translations of 1 Enoch [Ethiopic] come from G. Nickelsburg & J. VanderKam, 1 Enoch, 20)

Jude’s version is slightly different, which may attest to a different textual tradition, or the author forgot the particulars, and the divergences is from a shaky memory—or, this was a deliberate alteration.

What is critical to note: the quotation is intended to speak about the Lord coming to judge the godless.

The Meaning of 1 Enoch 1:9 in Jude 14–15

It might be best to start with the context of 1 Enoch 1:9 since most have not read the full text—with this book being part of the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, most would consider it useless for understanding Christianity.3 That said, this work in particular was of unique interest to Jude.