The scribes in the NT, also known as teachers of the law (Lk 5:17), are the professional torah teachers of the day, but in subsequent history they have been remembered more for their confrontations with Jesus and their partnership with the Pharisees. In fact, when the scribes encounter Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel, they almost seem to be identical to the Pharisees (e.g., Mt 5:20; 12:38; 23:2–31); however, Luke, who still closely associates the two groups, reveals more of a distinction (see Lk 11:39–46). It is probable, then, that the scribes are a subset of the Pharisees, scholarly experts among pious laypeople.
Since these teachers of the law have devoted themselves to understanding and applying the law’s legislation to their contemporary setting, they are keen to hear how Jesus does the same. Therefore, the scribes often test Jesus by besieging him with questions about his beliefs, lifestyle, and actions (Mt 15:1–2; 21:15–16; Mk 2:16; 11:28; 12:14, 28; Lk 11:53–54). On the whole, however, they strongly disagree with his answers. In turn, Jesus asks questions that these “experts” cannot—or will not—answer (Mt 12:10; 21:25; Mk 12:37; Lk 14:3).
Being rendered speechless before crowds by such questions embarrasses these teachers of the law (Mk 11:29–33; Lk 14:3–4; 20:26). So also, the people’s praise for Jesus’s authority over against their own teachings vexes them (e.g., Mt 7:29; Mk 1:22; 11:18). Thus, with Jesus’s blistering comments adding insult to injury (Mt 23:1–32; Lk 11:45–51), the scribes’ animosity toward him comes as no surprise. So great is their hatred for Jesus that it leads them to join with the chief priests in their plan to kill him (Mk 11:18; 14:1; Lk 22:2). Finally, with Judas’s betrayal of Jesus, the teachers get their wish: they arrest Jesus quickly, accuse him vehemently, and mock him mercilessly (Mt 26:57–58; 27:41–42; Mk 14:43–53; 15:1, 31–32; Lk 23:10).
However, these actions smack of irony in that they validate Jesus’s very prophecy about them: “The Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death . . . [but] on the third day he will be raised” (Mt 20:18–19; cf. 16:21; Mk 10:33–34; Lk 9:22). This irony was not lost on the early church, who interpreted Ps 2 to refer to these specific events; indeed, the scribes plotted in vain as they took their stand against the Lord and against his anointed one—only to do what God already decided beforehand (Ac 4:24–28).
The NT documents and other contemporary sources attest to a two-stage judicial proceeding against Jesus: first, a religious trial before the Sanhedrin that found him guilty of blasphemy, and second, a political trial before Pilate on the charge of sedition, resulting in Jesus’s crucifixion. The evidence outside the NT supports three facts: (l) Jesus was crucified by Roman authority under the sentence of Pontius Pilate (Josephus, Tacitus); (2) the Jewish leaders made a formal accusation against Jesus and participated in the events leading to his execution (Josephus); and (3) Jewish involvement in the trial was explained as a proper undertaking against a heretic or seducer who led Israel astray (Talmud).
Our best sources of information are the accounts of the four Gospels. The Gospel writers narrate a unified story of some twenty episodes. An arrest warrant issued after the raising of Lazarus (Jn 11:47–57) marks the beginning of the legal process and, in effect, makes Jesus a fugitive from Jewish law. At a subsequent meeting of the council at the palace of Caiaphas “two days before the Passover” (Mk 14:1; cf. Mt 26:2; Lk 22:1), the discussion centers on a covert plan to get rid of Jesus without causing an uproar during the feast (Lk 22:2; cf. Mt 26:4; Mk 14:2). The arrest in Gethsemane is instigated by agents of the Jewish court in collaboration with the Roman authorities.
The Jewish Trial. Swiftly following the arrest, probably before midnight, the Jewish leaders begin an interrogation and trial of Jesus, arguing the case throughout the night and returning a death verdict at daybreak. The Gospels bring together four graphic scenes. First, Jesus is initially interrogated by Annas, a former high priest (AD 6–15) and father-in-law to his successor, Joseph Caiaphas (AD 18–36) (Jn 18:24). Second, while Jesus is inside the high priest’s residence until about 3 a.m., Peter is outside in the courtyard below denying that he knows Jesus (Mt 26:69; Jn 18:16). Third, there is a nighttime trial before Caiaphas (Mt 26:59–68; Mk 14:55–65). A false charge is contrived that Jesus has threatened to destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days (Mt 26:61; Mk 14:58; cf. Jn 2:19). Then the high priest himself, driven by Jesus’s unwillingness to answer the charge, presses for an admission of guilt (Mk 14:61; cf. Mt 26:63). Jesus’s reply (Mk 14:62; cf. Mt 26:64; Lk 22:69) links his identity to three elevated titles—Messiah, Son of God, and Son of Man. This claim constitutes blasphemy in the eyes of the court (Mk 14:64; Mt 26:66). The blasphemy charge has three components—messianic claims, threats against the temple, and false prophecy—any one of which could carry a death warrant. Finally, Luke records the morning session of the Sanhedrin for the purposes of formulating the charges against Jesus (Lk 22:66).
The Roman Trial. The trial before Pilate depicts a separate prosecution aimed to secure a death sentence under Roman law. The Sanhedrin, knowing that blasphemy is not a capital offense in the eyes of Rome, tells the governor that Jesus has committed treason. John makes it clear that the Jews come to the Roman authority because it is not legal for them to put anyone to death (Jn 18:31). Pilate does not simply ratify the Jewish decision but makes a new investigation of the case (Jn 18:29; cf. Mt 27:12; Mk 15:3; Lk 23:2). Luke lists the charges against Jesus: leading astray the nation, forbidding payment of taxes to Caesar, and claiming to be the Messiah, a king (Lk 23:2; cf. 23:5, 14). The political overtones of this accusation explain Pilate’s question “Are you the King of the Jews?” (Mt 27:11; Mk 15:2; Lk 23:3; Jn 18:33). After Pilate’s two failed maneuvers to avoid responsibility for Jesus—his transfer of Jesus to the jurisdiction of Herod Antipas and his release of Barabbas instead of Jesus (Mt 27:15–26; Mk 15:6–15; Lk 23:6–25; Jn 18:39–40)—Jesus is sentenced to death by crucifixion (Mt 27:26; Mk 15:15; Lk 23:24–25).
At the Lithostroton (“Stone Pavement,” Jn 19:13), the formal sentence of death is spoken from the judgment seat (bēma), where Roman law required the magistrate to pronounce a capital sentence. The issue of kingship in Pilate’s court raises the alarm of sedition (Jn 19:12), an act deserving crucifixion. Scourging and mockery are integral to Pilate’s decision and emphasize the role of the Roman soldiers who carry out the order (Mt 27:27, 31; cf. Mk 15:16, 20). Scourging could be inflicted as the first stage of capital punishment or, as it is in the Gospels (Lk 23:16, 22; Jn 19:10), an independent penalty followed by release or imprisonment (cf. Ac 16:23; 22:24). The details of the Gospel narratives are, on the whole, in remarkable accord and are fully intelligible in light of the legal situation in Roman Palestine.
Matthew’s Trial Scene and the Responsibility for Jesus’s Death
An important theme in Jesus’s trial before Pilate in Matthew is that of innocence and culpability. Jesus alone is innocent (Mt 27:4, 19); Matthew spreads the responsibility for his death broadly, so that Judas, the chief priests and elders, the crowd, and Pilate are implicated in Jesus’s death (Mt 27:1–2; cf. 27:4, 20, 24–26; Mk 15:1, 11; Lk 22:66; 23:1).
The emphasis in Mt 21–28 is on the Jerusalem leaders as Jesus’s primary antagonists (e.g., Mt 21:15, 45–46; 23:1–39; 26:3–5; 28:11–12). More ambiguous are the Jewish crowds, who have been understood at some points in history as primarily responsible for Jesus’s death, especially with the words attributed to them at Mt 27:25 (“His blood be on us and on our children!”). Yet there are problems with attaching primary blame here since the makeup of the “people” at Mt 27:25 is ambiguous. They would seem to be identical to the “crowd” just mentioned at Mt 27:20, 24, who have been persuaded by the Jerusalem leaders to call for Jesus’s execution and may be related to the handpicked “crowd” sent by those same leaders at Jesus’s arrest (Mt 26:47). This places the greater culpability back on the Jewish leadership (Mt 27:20). In fact, the very “people” (Mt 27:25) who presume to own responsibility for Jesus’s death are the same people whom the Jerusalem leaders fear will be open to the deception of the resurrection (Mt 27:64).
The context of the people’s words at Mt 27:25 points to Pilate (along with the Jerusalem leaders) as primarily responsible for Jesus’s death. The political reality is that only Rome can legally execute Jesus. Pilate, as Rome’s representative in Jerusalem, authorizes Jesus’s execution (Mt 27:1–2, 26). Though in Mt 27:24 Pilate claims that he is innocent of Jesus’s blood and transfers responsibility to the people, he is no more able to do this than the Jewish leaders who say the same words to Judas (Mt 27:4). Unless he transfers his authority to the people, Pilate cannot transfer his responsibility for using it. Innocent blood (Mt 27:4, 24; cf. 23:35) is not so easily washed away.
The first three Gospels are called the Synoptic (“seen together”) Gospels. Alert readers quickly realize that they contain many similarities in the stories they tell. The “Synoptic problem” is the phrase used to explain how Matthew, Mark, and Luke agree, yet disagree, in three main areas: content, wording, and order.
In terms of content, about 90 percent of Mark’s material is found in Matthew, while about 50 percent is found in Luke. In addition, nearly 235 verses in Matthew and Luke are similar. When Jesus’s three-year ministry is considered, it is surprising that Matthew, Mark, and Luke often narrate the same events. Compared to John, the Synoptic Gospels have much in common. Why do we not find more unique stories in each of the Synoptics, such as we find in John’s Gospel?
In the places where there is agreement in content, there are sometimes incredible similarities in the precise wording, even down to the same tense and mood of Greek words. Since Jesus probably spoke in Aramaic, these similarities are even more astounding because the Gospels were written in Greek. These similarities are found not only in the words of Jesus but also in descriptions of events. The Gospel writers sometimes have identical parenthetical material, which was not spoken by Jesus (“let the reader understand” in Mk 13:14 = Mt 24:15). Despite these similarities, each Gospel writer also has his favorite vocabulary, themes, and emphases. Some “parallel” passages have very little in common, with each Gospel writer choosing his own unique words to describe an event.
Alternating agreement and disagreement in order between the three Gospels is also surprising. Sometimes the Synoptics have many passages in the same order. This similarity is all the more striking because many passages are gathered together for thematic reasons and are not chronological. For instance, the flashback to the death of John the Baptist would probably not be located in the exact order in two Gospels on the basis of oral tradition because it interrupts the story’s chronological flow (Mk 6:17–29 = Mt 14:3–12). At other times, though, there is very little agreement on order.
Keeping in mind that any solution must do justice to both these similarities and differences, there are various explanations to this Synoptic problem. Many scholars feel that there is no viable solution to the Synoptic problem. We simply do not have enough information to decode how they relate to one another.
Others think that oral traditions can account for the similarities found in the Synoptics, and suggest that there are no literary relationships. But what is the probability that three different authors often chose the exact same words and word order to describe events from Jesus’s life? Oral tradition would also struggle to explain phrases that seem to be parenthetical, such as “he told the paralyzed man” (Lk 5:24) or “let the reader understand” (Mk 13:14).
As a result, the majority of scholars hold to some kind of a literary relationship between the Synoptics —thinking that two of the Gospel writers, under the inspiration of the Spirit, used one or more of the other Gospels when they wrote. Though the solutions are myriad, the main literary solutions can easily be summarized.
Markan priority proposes that Mark wrote first, and that Matthew and Luke used Mark independently as a written source when they wrote their Gospels. Some of the Markan priority solutions posit a “Q” source to account for the occasional similarities between Matthew and Luke—thus receiving the name “Two-Source Hypothesis” (Mark and Q are the literary sources) or “Four-Source Hypothesis” (Mark, Q, M [Matthean material], L [Lucan material]). The main line of evidence for Markan priority is that it seems Matthew and Luke have improved upon Mark’s grammar and vocabulary in many places.
Other Markan priority proponents have eliminated the need for a Q source by suggesting that Mark was written first, followed by Matthew and then Luke, who used both Mark and Matthew as literary sources.
The Two Gospel (or Griesbach) Hypothesis suggests that Matthew was written first, Luke then used Matthew, and Mark then used both Matthew and Luke. This theory easily accounts for the “minor agreements” between Matthew and Luke.
The relationship of the Gospels to one another is not trivial but quite relevant for matters of apologetics, exegesis, and the theology of the individual Gospels. Any of the views are viable; the main question is which is more probable.
In the Gospels, Jesus often refers to himself in the third person (about one-fifth of the time in Mark’s Gospel). Surprisingly, he doesn’t call himself “Christ” or “Son of God,” two titles favored by Christians. A couple of times he refers to himself as “prophet” (Mk 6:4; Jn 4:44) and “Teacher” (Lk 22:11; Jn 13:14). His favorite self-designation, however, is “Son of Man,” a rather vague title. Perhaps Jesus calls himself the Son of Man in order to identify with humanity. In other words, Jesus is claiming that he is as much a son of Adam (in Hebrew “Adam” means “man” or “humankind”) as any other person. However, none of Jesus’s contemporaries would have doubted he was human (they were offended when he made claims of divinity), so there would be no reason for him to emphasize his humanity. Therefore, most scholars argue that Jesus is making a special claim when he calls himself the Son of Man.
The few times “son of man” appears in the OT, it is used to emphasize the finiteness of humans compared to the majesty of God (e.g., Jb 35:8; Pss 8:4; 80:17; Is 51:12; 56:2; Ezk 2:1; Dn 8:17). The only place where “son of man” refers to a heavenly being is in Daniel’s vision of the Ancient of Days (Dn 7:13). In that vision, one “like a son of man” (note the simile) receives from God an eternal kingdom on earth. This is probably the association Jesus is trying to make when he repeatedly calls himself the Son of Man. He believes he is the inaugurator of a heavenly kingdom on earth (Mt 4:17). As the Son of Man he has the authority to forgive sins (Mk 2:10) and rule on Sabbath obedience (Mk 2:28). Jesus even quotes Dn 7:13 twice to support his claim: for his disciples (Mk 13:26) and during his trial (Mk 14:62). The surprise, however, is that Jesus insists that the Son of Man—this heavenly ruler—has to suffer and die to make Daniel’s prophecy come true (Mk 10:33).
A study of the family of Jesus highlights Jesus’s genuine humanity and gives insight into a number of the most significant leaders in the development of Jewish Christianity.
The NT presents Mary as Jesus’s mother and the carpenter Joseph as his father. To embrace the virginal conception (Mt 1:18; Lk 1:26–28), however, one should qualify Joseph as adoptive father, which explains Joseph’s relative lack of mention either in the NT, notwithstanding Matthew’s birth narrative (Mt 1–2), or in church tradition. Mary, on the other hand, is a different story. While Mary is not mentioned by name in Paul’s writings, he does declare that Jesus was born of a woman (Gl 4:4), establishing Jesus’s very human birth. Mary dominates Luke’s birth narrative (Lk 1–2) and appears in numerous other passages in the Gospels. Although Mary is typically cast as lacking insight into the nature of Jesus’s mission (Mk 3:20–21; Jn 2:1–12), Luke names her as one of the 120 followers of Jesus who gather in Jerusalem after Jesus’s ascension (Ac 1:13–14).
Paul offers the earliest references to the presence of bodily brothers of Jesus (1 Co 9:5), specifically naming James the Lord’s brother as a leader of the Jerusalem church in the mid-first century (Gl 1:19; 2:9). The Synoptic Gospels provide more detail. Mark 6:3 (cf. Mt 13:56) mentions four brothers of Jesus—James, Joses (the abbreviated form of Joseph, the name given by Matthew), Judas (abbreviated Jude and the likely author of the NT letter bearing that name), and Simon—as well as at least two sisters. Extracanonical sources identify the sisters as Mary or Anna, and Salome.
As early as the second century, the apparent clarity of the terms “brother” (adelphos) and “sister” (adelphē) led to the belief that these were actually “blood” brothers and sisters born to Mary and Joseph after the birth of Jesus. This position has been challenged by at least two streams of tradition, reaching back to the fourth century. One of these contends that the “brothers” and “sisters” were actually children born to Joseph by a previous marriage. The other competing theory argues that the names listed in Mk 6:3 were in fact cousins of Jesus born to Mary’s sister, Mary of Clopas. Both challenges appear to be an attempt to defend the developing tradition of Mary’s perpetual virginity. While it is true that the term “brother” in Greek can be applied to masculine relatives however distant, or even figuratively to anyone devoted to Jesus, there is no reason apart from ecclesial or confessional needs to think the named persons in these texts were anything other than brothers and sisters of Jesus.
Unfortunately, any further statements about Jesus’s family must rest on speculation drawn from fragmentary and legendary extracanonical sources. Finally, it should be noted that Jesus’s true family consists of those who do the will of God (Mk 3:35).
Jesus never calls himself a servant or a slave. He does, however, imply he is a servant when he teaches his disciples about his mission, giving them an example of service they should follow (Mk 10:43–45; Jn 13:12–17). Jesus emphasizes the humility that comes with being a servant and illustrates the lesson by his self-sacrifice, offered for the good of others. After James and John ask for honorable positions in his kingdom, Jesus contrasts the way “rulers of the Gentiles” use their positions of power to “lord it over” their subjects with the way the disciples will serve one another. The moral is anchored by the example of Jesus: even the Son of Man (who should be served) has come to serve by giving “his life as a ransom for many” (Mk 10:43–45).
In John’s Gospel, a story is told how Jesus performs the menial task of a household servant by washing the disciples’ feet, despite the objection of Peter (Jn 13:1–11). Jesus even looks the part of a slave, laying “aside his outer clothing” and wrapping a towel between his legs and around his waist. After he finishes, Jesus asks the disciples whether they understand the lesson modeled for them. They rightfully call him “Teacher,” yet he has humbled himself and washed their feet like a slave. Therefore, they should do the same for one another. The way of Christ is humble service.
In light of these stories, it is surprising that the early church does not emphasize more how Jesus has fulfilled the role of the “humble” servant of the Lord prophesied in Isaiah (Is 42:1–9; 49:1–7; 52:13–53:12). Matthew claims Jesus has fulfilled the prophecy, but it has more to do with the withdrawal of Jesus from the crowds (Mt 12:15–21). Luke records Peter and the first Christians referring to Jesus as God’s servant who suffered at the hands of Pilate and Herod (Ac 3:13; 4:27). The clearest example comes from an early Christian hymn quoted by Paul: Jesus humbled himself when he became a man—like a slave he was “obedient to the point of death—even to death on a cross” (Php 2:7–8). Christians over the ages have featured the servant role of Jesus in many poems, liturgies, songs, sermons, and devotional materials.
Among Herod the Great’s most extraordinary building projects was his reconstruction of the temple and the expansion of its courtyard. This replaced the relatively unimpressive temple built after the exile under Zerubbabel’s supervision (516/515 BC). Although Zerubbabel’s structure was completely supplanted, Herod’s temple is not considered to be the Third Temple, since sacrifices continued throughout the period of its construction. The work began in 20/19 BC and continued until AD 63, though most of the work was completed within a decade. It was subsequently destroyed by the Romans in AD 70.
In accordance with its predecessor, Herod’s temple was divided into three main portions. The vestibule served as the temple’s entrance hall. Through its veiled back wall, access was given into the sanctuary, where the seven-branched menorah, the table of the Bread of the Presence, and the incense altar each stood. Two thick veils separated this space from the most holy place farther in. Occupied by the ark of the covenant in Solomon’s temple, this space was empty in Herod’s temple—save for the protrusion of the hill’s bedrock through the floor. The building’s dazzling exterior was entirely white wherever it was not covered with gold plating.
The temple itself faced east, situated at the highest level within the Temple Mount. Each successive courtyard was lower in elevation. Surrounding the temple was a high wall, which had three gates on each of its northern and southern sides. Within this wall to the east side lay a courtyard where the great altar stood (Mt 23:35). Beyond this, the courtyard was divided into two parts—the inner strip was the Priests’ Court, while the outer strip was the Court of Israel, open only to Jewish men (Mt 5:23–24; Lk 18:10–13; 24:53). A wall and another gate set these courts off from another court on the east known as the Court of the Women, where both Jewish men and women were permitted access (Lk 2:37).
Surrounding all of this was the large outer court, the area of which was doubled by Herod (approximately thirty football fields). But this space was also divided—a square area closest to the temple was reserved solely for Jews, set off from the Court of the Gentiles by a low balustrade. Entrances through this barrier were marked by engraved slabs warning Gentiles of their ensuing deaths should they presume to enter (cf. Ac 21:27–29).
This outer courtyard was surrounded on all sides by roofed colonnades, the southern one of which was Herod’s magnificent Royal Stoa (Mt 21:23; Lk 2:46). It was likely from this area and the nearby courtyard that Jesus expelled the money changers and sacrifice sellers (Mt 21:12–16). At the northwest corner of the courtyard stood the Antonia, a fortress Herod built to guard the Temple Mount. Its southern staircase descended to the courtyard for quick access (Ac 21:31–32).
The Destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70
Throughout its history Jerusalem has seen its share of heartache and horror. In 586 BC, Nebuchadnezzar razed the city, its walls, and Solomon’s temple. In AD 134, Jerusalem was destroyed after the Bar Kokhba revolt, which led to the wholesale banishment of all Jews from the city. Israel’s failure to repent of its moral shortcomings pointed out by several of God’s prophets and even his own Son resulted in the dismantling of Jerusalem.
The destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70 marks the second of three times the holy city of David fell. The oncoming atrocities actually began in AD 66 when Cestius Gallus marched south from Syria with his legions to squelch a problem in Judea. But they had to withdraw and in their retreat suffered heavy casualties at the hands of Jewish insurgents. This may have caused the inhabitants of Jerusalem to feel like they were reliving the glory days of Judas Maccabeus. Once troubles in Rome were quelled, however, a new general, Vespasian, returned to begin a systematic subjugation of all the areas surrounding Jerusalem. Eventually, he committed the final task of crushing this current Jewish revolt to Titus, the military commander in Judea.
The siege of Jerusalem began in April of AD 70. Although the defenders resisted desperately, by the end of September all attempts to withstand Titus failed. All that was left was the mopping-up operations of destroying three remaining strongholds, one of those being the practically impregnable Masada.
Interestingly, Jesus cryptically predicts the destruction of Jerusalem in Lk 23:28–31. As Jesus is led away to Golgotha, he addresses some mourning females with a chilling and sad note. The key to his message is connected to his reference to “green” and “dry” wood in verse 31. If people would exact this kind of punishment on him when the wood is green, what will they do when it is dry? Dry wood burns better. The contrast is driven deeper between the wood on which Jesus is crucified and the wood of Jerusalem. Jesus is basically giving them a warning that there are worse things on the horizon. The crucifixion of Jesus is one thing, but the destruction of Jerusalem will be another.
Crucifixion was effective as an instrument of cruelty and shame, of military and political retribution, and of intimidation and fear, used by ancient Near Eastern rulers to control their subjects, especially the conquered and lower-class peoples. It was a standard form of execution in the ancient world predating the Roman period. The Persians and the Carthaginians particularly relished tormenting condemned criminals and enemies of the state.
As early as 519 BC the Persian Darius I crucified three thousand of the leading citizens of Babylon. The Greeks did not use crucifixion as extensively as others, but in 332 BC Alexander the Great crucified two thousand survivors of his invasion of Tyre. Although Jews viewed crucifixion as especially abhorrent, likely because of the curse expressed in Dt 21:23, the Hasmonean king Alexander Jannaeus crucified eight hundred Pharisees during the Jewish period of Hellenistic influence. The Carthaginians likely introduced crucifixion to the Romans, and, by the NT period, the Romans were regularly using crucifixion, particularly for the execution of noncitizens and slaves. In 73 BC the Roman general Marcus Licinius Crassus put down a slave revolt led by Spartacus and crucified along the Appian Way over six thousand gladiator and slave rebels on six thousand crosses. Vespasian and Titus also used the crucifixion of thirty-six hundred Jews related to the siege of Jerusalem in AD 70 as a deterrent to further revolt.
Although there were certainly variations based on the specific crime of the condemned and even based on the whims of the soldiers who carried out the deed, the pattern of events surrounding a Roman crucifixion was rather typical. This included the flogging of the criminal, not so much as a means of torture but as a means of forcing submission and of reducing resistance. The loss of blood and excruciating pain from the flogging would weaken even the most strong-willed person. The condemned criminal customarily carried to the place of execution at least the crossbeam upon which he would die, further weakening him and decreasing his ability to resist. Public shame was central to Roman crucifixion. The Romans designated crucifixion sites near major thoroughfares into prominent cities, so as to create a public spectacle. This made crucifixion a deterrent, a warning about the consequence of a particular crime, identified by a sign hung on the cross or around the neck of the condemned. Upon reaching the place of execution, the offender was placed on the cross and the cross uprighted. The hands were either tied or nailed to the crossbeam, and the feet were attached to the upright by a single nail through both feet. Typically the condemned straddled a small board that would at least partially support his weight. Breathing was extremely difficult in such a position, but in many cases a person might survive for several days. It was not unusual for the body of the crucified to be left on the cross, not only until death, but until the body was devoured by wild animals, which would eliminate the necessity of burial.
The crucifixion of Jesus as recorded in the NT is consistent with what is known about crucifixion from extrabiblical sources. These accounts give the reader the framework for Roman crucifixion, but with little of the morbid detail. The four Gospels provide very similar versions of Jesus’s crucifixion (Mt 27:27–56; Mk 15:16–41; Lk 23:26–49; Jn 19:16–30). All four accounts include a preceding scourging; the carrying of Jesus’s cross by Simon of Cyrene; the placement of an inscription on the cross; the crucifixion at Golgotha (the Place of the Skull); the nailing of Jesus’s body to the cross; the mockery by soldiers, religious leaders, and onlookers; and a relatively quick death, followed by the removal of the body from the cross before the beginning of Sabbath.
Mark 16:9–20 represents one of the most difficult textual problems in the NT. The two oldest and most important Greek manuscripts of the NT omit the longer ending of Mark (Mk 16:9–20), as do several early translations, versions, and testimonies of church fathers. The literary character of Mk 16:9–20 also differs from that of the rest of the Gospel of Mark. Twenty-seven new words occur in the longer ending, plus several stylistic features otherwise absent from Mark. The role of signs in Mk 16:17–18 contradicts Mk 8:11–13. These and other factors make it virtually certain that Mark did not write Mk 16:9–20. This longer ending of Mark, which was added in the early decades of the second century, consists of a resurrection harmony excerpted from the other three Gospels. The various excerpts appear to have been selected and edited in the secondary ending in accordance with the theme of the unbelief of the disciples.
If the Gospel of Mark originally ended at Mk 16:8, then readers, like the women at the tomb, are left in a state requiring a response of faith, which must be elicited by hearing rather than by sight. This is the conclusion that a majority of modern scholars draw with regard to the oldest ascertainable ending of Mark. Although Mark may have ended his Gospel at Mk 16:8, it is not certain—and perhaps even unlikely—that he did. It seems hard to imagine that Mark, who begins his Gospel with a direct and bold declaration of Jesus as God’s Son and promised Messiah, would end his Gospel on a note of bewilderment (Mk 16:8). Very few ancient texts end as inconclusively as Mk 16:8, which breaks off in mid-sentence. The addition of the longer ending at a later date, and a different shorter ending in some manuscripts (see the CSB footnote for Mk 16:8), is certain if artless evidence that the early church considered Mk 16:8 a defective ending. It seems probable, therefore, that the Gospel of Mark originally concluded with a resurrection narrative, similar perhaps to that of the Gospel of Matthew. Not infrequently ancient manuscripts suffered the loss of first and last pages due to wear and tear, and this may have been the fate of the final leaf of Mark’s original manuscript. Although Mark, most probably the earliest of the four Gospels, does not contain in its present form a resurrection appearance of Jesus, it should be remembered that the earliest written testimony to the resurrection occurs in 1 Co 15, written a decade earlier by the apostle Paul.
The birth of Christ by a virgin describes the method God chose for the incarnation. The scriptural emphasis is that Mary conceived a child due to the supernatural influence of God’s Holy Spirit without human intercourse. This means the Son she birthed was willed by God rather than caused by humans.
The biblical evidence for virgin conception seems rather scarce at first. Only Matthew and Luke tell the story, and their stories relate different details. Mark and John seem uninterested in Jesus’s special birth, and the letters seem occupied with Jesus’s ministry. Does this mean that the virgin conception proves insignificant for Christian faith? Not at all! Although only Matthew and Luke give accounts of Mary’s virginity at the time of Jesus’s conception, all of the NT affirms it when touching on the issue (compare Mk 6:3 to Mt 13:55). The true significance of the virgin conception concerns the very nature of Jesus. God could have chosen to bring Jesus to earth through a special creation similar to the way he created the first Adam. However, Matthew’s and Luke’s portrayal of how God connected eternity with history places Christ’s eternal nature at the very core of the Christian faith. John’s Gospel exposes this most clearly with his opening statement about Jesus’s preexistence before his historical birth in Bethlehem (Jn 1:1–18).
Put differently, the virgin conception joins or unites the preexistent (or eternal) nature of Christ with his historical (or temporal) existence in a way that preserves both natures as coexistent. Without the virginal conception, there must have been a point of adoption, a specific historical time when Jesus became “Son of God.” The problem with the idea of adoption is that it ultimately makes Jesus 100 percent human and 0 percent God. Adoption changes belonging, not being.
Some scholars have tried to connect Jesus’s sinlessness to his virgin conception. Such efforts, however, misread the biblical material and make sin an issue of inheritance and chromosomes. Furthermore, it seems to suggest that Mary was sinless simply because she was a virgin. It proves more helpful to say that because Jesus was 100 percent human (born of a woman), he could have sinned; but, because he was 100 percent God (born of the Spirit), he also had the option not to sin. Opposite the first Adam, who also had the option not to sin, the second Adam, Jesus, remained sinless and restored what the first Adam destroyed (Rm 5:19; Heb 4:15). That Jesus was born of a woman secures that he can relate 100 percent to the human situation. That he was born of God’s Spirit secures that the salvation he offers is eternal, from God. The virginal conception therefore remains significant to the Christian faith.
The Synagogue in the Ancient World
The synagogue served as the religious, cultural, and social center for the Jewish community in Israel and beyond. Current knowledge of ancient synagogues comes from literary references and archaeological excavations.
The Greek term synagōgē refers to the building or the people who gathered for such a meeting. Traditionally, many Jews traced the synagogue back to Moses (Ac 15:21), although most likely the synagogue arose outside of Palestine at a much later time, possibly during the Babylonian exile or later in the Jewish dispersion when Jews lived far from Jerusalem. Ancient synagogues are known to have existed in Babylon and the Mediterranean world, and over a hundred synagogues have been excavated in Israel alone.
At the earliest stages, private homes or sometimes outdoor locations served as Jewish gathering places for prayer and Torah reading. Only later were buildings specifically erected as synagogues. Many bigger cities had more than one synagogue, sometimes as many as a dozen.
Synagogue floor plans varied, especially since some utilized buildings originally constructed for other purposes. Synagogues typically were oriented so that congregants would pray facing Jerusalem. The central item was a portable ark of scrolls or a permanent Torah shrine. A raised podium is where Scriptures were read, lessons taught, and benedictions led. The gatherers typically sat on stone benches lining the interior walls.
Synagogues also served as local centers for education and study. Religious instruction, including reading the Scriptures and discussing the law, served as the basic education for Jewish youths. Since the synagogue tended to be a large building, it often also functioned as a place for public meetings and political gatherings.
The synagogue’s presiding officer was a “leader of the synagogue” or “head of the assembly” (Mk 5:22; Lk 13:14; Ac 13:15; 18:8, 17), who maintained order, selected worship leaders, invited speakers, and represented the assembly to the outside world. Synagogues also utilized assistants to administer prayers, recitations, and other duties.
The Gospels describe Jesus teaching and healing in synagogues of Galilee. According to Acts, Paul’s strategy for spreading Christianity was to start first in the Jewish synagogues. The earliest followers of Jesus continued to meet in synagogues until they eventually were excluded in the mid- to late first century. It is not surprising, then, that Jms 2:2 refers to a Christian assembly as a “synagogue” rather than a “church” (Gk ekklēsia). Most likely, Jewish synagogues served as a formative template for early Christian worship practices.
The Gospels present women as central figures in the ministry of Jesus. The fact that Jesus included women in such vital and varied roles marked a stark contrast to the status of Jewish, Greek, and to a large extent, Roman women. While one must be careful not to overstate the situation in the first century, it is safe to say that women had limited opportunities outside of domestic roles and had little control over their own lives. When viewed in this context, the revolutionary implications of Jesus’s interaction with women come more fully into view.
Mary the mother, and future follower, of Jesus dominates Luke’s account of Jesus’s birth. Mary’s song (Lk 1:46–55) is the ultimate celebration of the “birth” of a revolution that will turn the current structures upside down, or perhaps more appropriately, right-side up. In this revolution the proud and wealthy are brought low and go hungry, while the humble and poor are elevated and filled. The song also infers that women, like Mary, will stand alongside men in the revolution. The presence of Elizabeth (Lk 1:5–7, 24–25, 39–45, 57–60) and Anna the prophet (Lk 2:36–38) provides confirmation. Men and women alike will participate in God’s coming reign.
The Gospels present women as models of faithful discipleship, some of long-standing nature who support the mission financially (Lk 8:1–3) and who often succeed when the male disciples fail. The list of such women includes Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Jesus, Salome, Mary the wife of Clopas, Joanna, Susanna, Mary and Martha of Bethany, and a number of unnamed women. While the Gospels depict these women as faithful followers of Jesus, nowhere is it more evident than during passion week. It is the women who remain with Jesus to the end. The woman who anoints Jesus beforehand for burial emerges as one of the few, if not the only one, who seems to understand Jesus’s prediction that he will die but on the third day arise. The Twelve remain completely in the dark. Furthermore, it is the “daughters of Jerusalem” who weep for Jesus as he is led away to crucifixion (Lk 23:27–31). In the Synoptics, while it is true that men stand alongside women as witnesses of the crucifixion, the emphasis is clearly on the women who were “watching from a distance” (Mk 15:40; cf. Mt 27:55–56; Lk 23:49). John highlights the women along with the Beloved Disciple standing by the cross (Jn 19:25–27). Similarly, the women alone observe the place where Jesus is buried (Mt 27:60–61; Mk 15:47; Lk 23:55–56). While each Gospel highlights the women a bit differently at the empty tomb, it is clear that women are the chief witnesses, the first to be commissioned “go and tell,” and in general display faith in strong contrast with the confused disciples (Mt 28:1–10; Mk 16:1–8; Lk 24:1–12; Jn 20:1–18).
Modern interpreters should resist the urge to make Jesus a thoroughgoing egalitarian. Jesus made little if any effort to overturn traditional domestic expectations of women in the first century. While women did constitute part of the outer circle of Jesus’s followers, he did not include a woman among the Twelve. Jesus did, however, work within the structures of the day in order to elevate the status of women both in the larger society and certainly in the coming rule of God.
The Lord’s Prayer is found, but not named as such, in Mt 6:9–13 and Lk 11:2–5. This prayer is a version of the Jewish Kaddish prayer revised around the theme of the kingdom of God and is a paradigmatic model of prayer given by Jesus to his followers. Matthew and Luke likely both knew the prayer from a common source (written or oral), and the differences between them are due to Matthew’s version being a more liturgical elaboration of Luke’s shorter and more “original” version. Both versions of the prayer agree that (1) God is the Holy Father; (2) the kingdom is yet to come in its fullness; (3) followers of Jesus depend on God for their daily provisions; (4) followers of Jesus depend on God for forgiveness, (5) which is reciprocated in the forgiveness of others; and include (6) the supplication that God not let them fall into the final tribulation.
The prayer can be broken up into a number of petitions. First is the petition addressed to God as Father and self-sanctifier. God is invoked as Father, and his name represents both his character as a loving Father and his authority as the Master over all creation. The prayer is theocentric, and it reads literally, “let your name be sanctified,” which is a plea that God’s holiness will become more and more evident.
The second petition is for God to finally establish his kingdom. The “kingdom of God” is more akin to God’s reign, rule, or government. It is referred to rarely in the OT (e.g., Dn 2:44; Ob 21); much more prominent there is the theme of God as King.
Third is the petition for daily provision of physical needs. The “daily bread” petition looks to God as the provider and caregiver of his people. Elsewhere in the Sermon on the Mount/Plain, Jesus preaches dependence on God as a means of escaping the worry and lure of wealth and money (Mt 6:25–33 // Lk 12:22–34). Bread was a powerful symbol for sustenance and life (e.g., Pr 22:9; Lm 2:12; Jn 6:35, 48).
Fourth is the petition for divine forgiveness in coordination with mutual forgiveness among the community of Jesus’s followers. The prayer does not ask God to forgive persons who then in turn forgive others; rather, in reverse, the prayer implies that God forgives in the same way that humans forgive each other (Matthew) or on the basis of humans forgiving each other (Luke).
Fifth is the petition to be spared eschatological tribulation and the malevolence of Satan. The prayer could constitute a plea for help in the face of personal trials and struggles in the believer’s life and in the journey of discipleship (e.g., 1 Co 10:13; Jms 1:2), or it could denote a request to be kept from the eschatological ordeal that will precede the final and full establishment of the kingdom of God (e.g., Mk 14:36, 38; Rv 3:10).
The Lord’s Prayer has remained a common thread in the devotional life of followers of Jesus for two millennia because it is simple, memorable, poignant, and yet profound. It is not the prayer of an elite few; it belongs to all who cry out to God as Father and see the way to God in Jesus Christ. This prayer encapsulates a motif of Jesus’s own mission: God as king and the love of God for his own people.
Jesus’s Seven Last Words from the Cross
1. “Father, forgive them, because they do not know what they are doing” (Lk 23:34).
This prayer for the Father to forgive Jesus’s enemies and executioners is actually answered by his own death, which makes forgiveness possible.
2. “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise” (Lk 23:43).
This promise offers paradise—a place of life, rest, peace, and fellowship with God—to the repentant criminal being crucified beside Jesus.
3. “Woman, here is your son.” . . . “Here is your mother” (Jn 19:26–27).
Since Joseph has presumably already died by this time, Jesus as the oldest son is now responsible to care for his mother. He does so by entrusting her to “the disciple whom he loved.”
4. “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” (Mt 27:46; Mk 15:34; cf. Ps 22:1).
Jesus quotes Ps 22:1, a prayer of King David, who was suffering unjustly. As the ultimate righteous sufferer, Jesus also confesses his feelings of abandonment by God.
5. “I’m thirsty” (Jn 19:28; cf. Pss 22:14–15; 69:21).
Jesus requests a drink likely in order to speak the final few words as well as to fulfill Scripture. Here he alludes to Ps 22:14–15 and Ps 69:21.
6. “It is finished” (Jn 19:30; cf. Ps 22:31).
The word “it” refers to Jesus’s redemptive work, “finished” means to be “paid in full,” and the verb tense indicates an action that has been completed but has ongoing results. The Son’s work stands accomplished—now and forever!
7. “Father, into your hands I entrust my spirit” (Lk 23:46; cf. Ps 31:4–5).
The backdrop is Ps 31:4–5. Jesus anticipates restored fellowship with the Father and entrusts himself to the Father’s care.
Was the Resurrection of Jesus a Fabrication of the Early Church?
The resurrection of Jesus is a core event of the Christian faith. It points to an exalted Jesus at God’s right hand. It shows there is life after death. This is why the church commemorates this event each year and preaches it so regularly from its pulpits. Interestingly, nowhere in the NT is the resurrection itself described. Rather, the NT records the effects of resurrection as seen in the empty tomb and the appearances of Jesus.
Skeptics often claim the early church fabricated the accounts of Jesus’s resurrection. But what Scripture presents regarding the resurrection works against this claim. First, women are the first witnesses to the empty tomb and receive the first announcement of resurrection. Women did not have a legal right to be witnesses in the first century, so if you were making up a story to introduce a controversial idea (Gentiles did not believe in resurrection and neither did Sadducees), would you pick nonwitnesses to begin your case? That is very unlikely. Second, if you were creating the story to give it credibility, would you have your chief leaders be so unbelieving upon first hearing the news? When the women report the resurrection to the disciples, the disciples think the women’s story is nonsense (Lk 24:11). Only Peter and John go to check to see what has taken place (Lk 24:12; Jn 20:3). This unbelief does not put the disciples in a good light in terms of their faith. Third, the early church could have made up a simpler story that fit Jewish expectations, if they had created it. They simply could have argued that Jesus would be raised at the end, in line with Jewish expectation, and that he would lead the judgment. But what was expected is not what happened. Something created the third-day precedent of a resurrection within history. Such features show that it is very unlikely this account was made up.
Some like to suggest that the resurrection was really only a visionary experience. Usually it is seen to have been grief induced. But this cannot explain the meals Jesus is said to have taken (Lk 24:36–43), nor the group appearances, such as the appearance to five hundred recorded in 1 Co 15:6. Still others argue that the earliest traditions were empty-tomb traditions, which do not require a resurrected body and might allow for the removal of the body to create an impression of resurrection. The major problem with this theory, which Mt 28:13 notes, is the disciples were persecuted for and were willing to die for this belief in resurrection. Those who took the body would have had to be able to do so successfully in the face of the tomb being guarded and then convince others about the resurrection. They would have had to be willing to go to the grave with their secret. In sum, the best explanation for the resurrection is that it happened.
“Incarnation” means “infleshed” (Latin in carne) and should not be confused with the similar-sounding term, “reincarnation.” Biblically speaking, “incarnation” is a term used to express what happened when Jesus, who had been with God for all eternity, stepped onto the historical scene as a human being. The significance of incarnation, therefore, goes beyond the specific circumstances surrounding Jesus’s birth (1 Tm 3:16). John, for example, claims those who reject incarnation prove themselves to be anti-Christ (1 Jn 4:2; 2 Jn 7). Similarly, Paul interprets Jesus’s work on the cross in light of the incarnation (Col 1:22) and considers incarnation the reason Christ could accomplish what the law of Moses could not (Rm 8:3; Eph 2:15).
The biblical emphasis on incarnation moves faith from the realm of mythology to the realm of history. God is not out there in the unknown but chose to step into history and reveal himself in a personal manner. Christ’s incarnation secures the connection between God and the issues of the human situation. It follows that Christian faith cannot be indifferent to historical issues of faith.
At the heart of the Christian doctrine on incarnation lies a statement about Christ’s being. The NT story of incarnation shuts down any notion that Jesus was merely a pious person or prophet whom God adopted. Rather, he was 100 percent God and 100 percent man. Not “just” man, not “just” God, nor 50 percent of each. To say that Jesus is 100 percent God does not mean that he equals the Father but that his being is the same as the Father’s. Everything about Jesus is an exact expression of God, yet Jesus is not the Father.
Opposite the early Christians, who knew Jesus as a human being and struggled to understand his divinity (Jn 10:25–30; 14:9–10, 28), Christians today struggle to understand the significance of Jesus’s humanity and find it easier to make him 100 percent God and 0 percent human. Being 100 percent God means he is the true Savior—not just one who can point to a saving God. That he is 100 percent human means he is fully acquainted with human experience. The incarnation calls followers of Christ to live lives that actively proclaim that God’s love is not long-distance love but a present and personal love (Heb 2:18; 4:15).
Jewish Marriage and Wedding Customs
Even more than many of their Mediterranean contemporaries in the first century, Jewish people highly valued marriage and childbearing. Later rabbis treated procreation as a sacred duty, avoidance of which was sinful; they required divorce for infertility. While a few Jewish sages considered marriage a distraction from Torah study, most considered it instead a relief from temptation (hence from distraction). Some Jews, however, differed from this cultural mainstream; for example, many ancient sources suggest that some Essenes remained celibate.
Virtually all religious Jews, however, morally confined sexual intercourse to marriage and expected those who were married to normally engage in sexual relations. Monogamy was the norm. Though polygamy was legal for those who could afford it, there were very few cases (the most obvious being Herod the Great). The two schools of Pharisees (Shammaites and Hillelites) differed on grounds for which husbands could divorce wives: the former restricted it to a wife’s infidelity, but the latter allowed it for virtually any cause. (Jesus apparently sided with Shammaites.) Following Greek custom, wealthier women also could divorce husbands, though this was probably not the norm for most Judeans or Galileans.
The age of marriage tended to be younger in antiquity than today; Jewish girls could legally marry once they entered puberty, and most probably married in their teens, and Judean men often by twenty. Betrothal was an economic agreement between families more binding than modern engagement; it could be ended only by either divorce or the death of one of the parties.
The wedding (sometimes after a year of betrothal) ideally could last seven days, though many guests outside the main party and family would attend only some of those days. The first night was probably most important, and first intercourse would normally be attempted then. Wedding banquets provided much food and wine and hence tended to be costly; people invited as many guests as possible, sometimes even the entire village. Weddings and funerals represented the epitome of joy and sorrow, respectively, and joining either kind of procession was a community obligation.
Judean women had more freedom to be in public than classical Athenian women did. Nevertheless, pietists frowned on men speaking with women other than their wives or relatives. Once married, Jewish women customarily covered their hair in public, reserving it for their husbands’ view. Ideally the husband’s specified duties included providing financially for the wife at the standard of living to which her upbringing had accustomed her. The wife’s specified household duties included grinding flour, cooking, nursing, and spinning. Wives were also expected to obey their husbands in this culture (an expectation emphasized even more among Hellenistic Jewish writers).
In the OT the concept of “life” is largely limited to life in the present (Dt 30:19). Life is recognized as a creative act and the gift of God. The blessings of life (including security, health, and prosperity) are also a divine gift. To participate in the fullness of life is in some sense to participate in God himself, because God is the source of all life.
In its vision of the resurrection, Dn 12 marks a pronounced shift from a this-world focus to life as a never-ending, postmortem reality: “Many who sleep in the dust of the earth will awake, some to eternal life, and some to disgrace and eternal contempt” (Dn 12:2). Here the words “eternal life” (the only OT occurrence of the phrase) are closely connected with the resurrected state. Since the Jewish literature closer to Jesus’s day continued to preserve this association, his language of “eternal life” must also entail the notion of resurrection.
In their respective emphases, John and the Synoptic Gospels treat eternal life differently. When compared to the Gospel of John, the Synoptics show only sparing use of the phrase. By contrast, John refers to “life” or “eternal life”—the two are virtually interchangeable—some three dozen times. Indeed, the prospect of his readers’ obtaining eternal life is John’s very reason for writing (Jn 20:31). Where “eternal life” does occur in the Synoptic Gospels, it consistently refers to the resurrected age to come (Mt 25:46; Mk 10:17, 30; Lk 10:25). While John also sees eternal life as a future hope (Jn 3:36; 5:39), unlike the Synoptic witness he emphasizes this life as something that can be possessed in the present (Jn 5:24; 10:10).
Some have suggested that John’s emphasis on the “present-ness” of eternal life reflects the influence of Greek Platonic philosophy. Although the evangelist uses terms that no doubt would have been appreciated by readers familiar with Greek philosophy, the substance of his thought derives from a Jewish framework. John sees eternal life as a gift (Jn 5:25; 6:51), received by faith (Jn 3:15; 5:24), and co-identical with a personal knowledge of God the Father and the Son (Jn 17:3). And since Jesus is both the mediator and source of divine self-revelation, he is also the mediator (Jn 6:32–33; 10:10) and source (Jn 4:13–14; 11:25; 14:6) of eternal life. Until eternal life comes to full flower in the general resurrection, it remains an active agent in transforming individual lives and empowering for corporate mission.
The origin of the Samaritans is historically murky, with competing views espoused by different groups. The Jews contend that the Samaritans’ ancestors were the foreigners transplanted into Palestine by Assyria (2 Kg 17:24–41), who embraced the Jewish faith while retaining their pagan religions. The Jews argue this same group was rebuffed by the returning exiles in their offer to help rebuild the temple (Ezr 4:1–4).
Alternatively, the Samaritans maintain that they derive from a faithful remnant of Israelites who rejected the defilement of the Israelite faith when the place of worship was moved from Shechem to Shiloh and eventually to Jerusalem. Accordingly, they claim to have preserved the legitimate place of worship on Mount Gerizim and the true priesthood.
Recent scholarship has rejected the links between the Samaritans and 2 Kg 17 or Ezr 4, since these passages most likely function with a political and geographical reference. Rather, the Samaritans have been associated with nonexiled, northern Israelites, who migrated to Shechem following Alexander the Great’s violent suppression of a revolt in 331 BC. These were either joined or even preceded by priests who were expelled from Jerusalem during the stringent reforms in the wake of Ezra and Nehemiah. At some point in the fourth century BC they built a temple on Mount Gerizim, making explicit their rejection of the Jerusalem temple and its traditions (cf. Jn 4:19–24).
Over time, tensions developed between the Samaritans and the Jews on matters of priesthood legitimacy, temple location, and traditional interpretations. These tensions boiled over in 128 BC, when the Hasmonean John Hyrcanus conquered Shechem and destroyed the Samaritan temple. This antipathy expressed itself later in the scattering of bones by Samaritans in the temple precincts during Passover between AD 6 and 7 and in the massacre of Galilean pilgrims to Jerusalem in AD 52. Noteworthy also are Jesus’s instructions not to enter Samaritan towns during his disciples’ missionary journeys (Mt 10:5) and the rejection of Jesus by a Samaritan village (Lk 9:51–53; cf. also Jn 8:48).
The Samaritans are best understood as a conservative form of Judaism, adhering solely to their own recension of the Law—the Samaritan Pentateuch. In general, the Samaritans believed in one God who communicated his law to his people through Moses. Jesus’s provocative casting of the Samaritan as the one who truly loved his neighbor implies a positive view of Samaritan law observance (Lk 10:30–35). Samaritans also anticipated the end-time coming of a prophet like Moses. The Samaritan woman’s reference to Messiah’s coming may be John’s paraphrase of her actual reference to the coming of this “prophet” (Jn 4:25).
The word “sign” appears almost twenty times in John’s Gospel, predominantly in Jn 2–12. Though Jesus performed many signs (Jn 2:23; 20:30), John chose ones that would best inspire belief in Jesus, so that those who believe might find life (Jn 20:30–31). Signs signify something more glorious than the miracles themselves. They hint at the true nature of Jesus’s messianic identity and his mission as the Son who was sent by the Father to bring life.
Signs lead to faith in Jesus as God’s agent of salvation. They do not, however, coerce faith. Although sign-based faith is insufficient (Jn 2:23–24), it often serves as a step toward true belief and salvation. One of John’s goals is that people would believe even when they have not seen a sign, unlike Thomas (Jn 20:29).
John explicitly uses the term “sign” for only four of Jesus’s actions (Jn 2:1–11; 4:46–54; 6:1–15; 11:38–44). There are two other miraculous actions of Jesus that John indirectly refers to as a “sign” (Jn 5:1–9; 9:1–7). Since the number seven indicates perfection or wholeness, interpreters often identify seven signs in John’s Gospel. However, John does not clearly enumerate seven signs, and so there is not complete agreement on the identification of the seventh sign. Besides Jesus walking on water (Jn 6:16–21), other proposals include the cleansing of the temple (Jn 2:13–22), the resurrection of Jesus, and the miraculous catch of fish (Jn 21:1–11).
1. The changing of the water to wine (Jn 2:1–11) signifies that by changing the water used for Jewish ceremonial cleansing into the expected wine (Am 9:11–14), Jesus is renewing Israel and launching the new covenant, which is superior to the old covenant (Jn 2:10; cf. Heb 8:6–12).
2. The healing of the official’s son (Jn 4:46–54) signifies that Jesus is the bringer of life. The son is on the verge of death, but Jesus heals him and gives him life.
3. The healing of the sick (Jn 5:1–9; see 7:31) signifies that the kingdom of God is now here, when “the lame will leap like a deer” (Is 35:6). Jesus the Son makes himself equal to God the Father (Jn 5:18) by working to heal the needy in order to give life, even on the Sabbath (Jn 5:21, 24–26).
4. The feeding of the five thousand (Jn 6:1–15) signifies that only Jesus can truly satisfy spiritual hunger. Just as bread is a necessary element of the Mediterranean diet for physical survival, the full ingestion of Jesus—complete faith in him—is necessary for spiritual life.
5. Walking on water (Jn 6:16–21) may be the seventh sign (see discussion above). It signifies that Jesus is master over nature. As the Word, who was with God in the beginning at creation, he is Lord over creation.
6. The giving of sight to the man born blind (Jn 9:1–7; see Jn 9:16) signifies that just as Jesus is able to heal physical blindness, he is able to heal spiritual blindness. In the OT, blindness is evidence of the curse of disobedience (Dt 28). Now, in Jesus, there is a reversal of God’s curse for those who respond to him (Jn 9:38).
7. The raising of Lazarus from the dead (Jn 11:38–44; 12:18) signifies that Jesus has come to give life to those who believe in him. It also foreshadows Jesus’s own resurrection from the dead.
John uses the expression “I am” much more frequently than the Synoptic Gospels. John uniquely uses seven “I am” constructions with a predicate. These explain different aspects of Jesus’s mission as the one sent by God to fulfill Israel’s promises:
1. “I am the bread of life” (Jn 6:35, 41, 48, 51) who meets not only physical but also spiritual needs.
2. “I am the light of the world” (Jn 8:12; 9:5), the one who fulfills the Festival of Shelters’ light ceremony and reveals how to find life and freedom from darkness.
3. “I am the gate for the sheep” (Jn 10:7, 9) who intimately knows, protects, and provides for the sheep. Jesus is the only way to enter the fold and be “saved” (Jn 10:9).
4. “I am the good shepherd” (Jn 10:11, 14) who comes to rescue the injured and the strays, in contrast to the bad “shepherds,” the blind Jewish leaders (Ezk 34; Jn 9:40–41).
5. “I am the resurrection and the life” (Jn 11:25) who overthrows the permanence of death.
6. “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (Jn 14:6) who provides the only way to the Father.
7. “I am the true vine” (Jn 15:1, 5) in fulfillment of Israel, who was called “the vine” in the OT. In contrast to Israel’s lack of fruit (Jr 2:21), Jesus obediently follows the Father, as do his followers who stay connected to the vine.
At other times, though, “I am” is used without a predicate (often appearing in the English translation as “I am he”). Jesus uses “I am” as a title to identify himself with the Sovereign God of the OT. In Exodus, when Moses asks God for his name, he replies, “I AM WHO I AM” and tells Moses to say, “I AM has sent me to you” (Ex 3:13–14; cf. Is 43:10–11, 25).
This absolute use of “I am” is most frequent in John (e.g., Jn 4:26; 8:24, 28, 58; 13:19; cf. 6:20). When the mob comes to arrest Jesus, saying they are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, Jesus tells them, “I am he,” and the crowd backs away and falls to the ground (Jn 18:4–6). The soldiers act like men who are in the presence of deity, falling to the ground before Jesus. Jesus not only is the one who comes in the name of the Father, but he comes with the name of the Father—Jesus is not just human, he is the divine “I am.”
Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus
Ancient Jerusalem reached its peak size shortly before the time of the First Jewish Revolt (AD 66–70), after Agrippa I’s decision to incorporate the northern outlying suburbs by building what is called the third wall. The Jerusalem of Jesus’s time, being marked out only by the first wall and second wall, was considerably smaller: not even a half square mile in area.
The first wall was both the most ancient and the most extensive. It ran westward from the southwest corner of the temple (which itself was situated on the eastern hill at the far northeast corner of the city) all the way to Herod’s palace (the praetorium) on the northwest corner. It is undoubtedly because the north side of Jerusalem was the only side without the natural protection of the hills that Herod the Great (37–4 BC) chose this spot—on the north edge but away from the temple—for building not only his base of operations but also three impressive towers: Hippicus, Phasael, and Mariamne. From here the wall plunged south for roughly a half mile, running along the brow of the western hill overlooking the Ben Hinnom Valley (which Jesus refers to as Gehenna). By the point where the wall met the Gate of the Essenes, so called because of a nearby “Essene quarter” and road leading out to Qumran, it veered eastward. Enclosing certain important water sources, including the Pool of Siloam (Jn 9:7), the city wall then shifted northward back toward the temple, hugging the eastern hill of the city overlooking the Kidron Valley to the east.
While the course of the second wall, built during the second century BC as an extension of the city’s north side, cannot be firmly determined, we can be fairly sure that it began at the Garden Gate (which was probably about halfway across the northern edge of the first wall), shot up a quarter mile toward the north, and then eventually came back down to the Antonia Fortress, which sat along the northwest corner of the temple grounds. These same walls in Jesus’s day served to protect a base population of some forty thousand to fifty thousand people.
The city of Jerusalem was very economically diverse. On the one extreme was the wealthy high-priest class, who lived in expansive and luxurious homes outside of Herod’s palace. On the other extreme were “the poor,” a landless peasant class who fled from the countryside into the city in some hopes of eking out an existence through begging or unskilled day labor. In between were merchants, artisans, and tradesmen—most of whom depended on the temple and temple-related business. Relationships between the socioeconomic classes were often tense: economic resentment brewing in Jesus’s time would have at least partly explained the emergence of the Zealots and the subsequent Jewish uprising a generation after Jesus’s death. Jesus’s recurring warnings against greed were a continuation of John the Baptist’s preaching on this theme (Lk 3:10–14), which also happened to be largely directed against Jerusalemites (Mk 1:5).
The city was equally mixed on a sociocultural level. Jewish pilgrims from Galilee and from far abroad would make regular pilgrimages to the Holy City, causing its population to swell during festival times. Given the highly politicized nature of these festivals, and the highly politicized nature of the temple itself, the Romans were also sure to make their military and cultural presence felt. It was a presence that was simultaneously feared and resented. Finally, due to its status as a world-class tourist spot (which had as much to do with Herod’s political renown as with his improvements on the temple), the city attracted visitors from all reaches of the known world. The swirling cultural maelstrom within Jerusalem’s walls virtually guaranteed that any strident political claim, including Jesus’s implicit claims of messiahship, would go neither undetected nor uncontested. The cultural and political mix of Jerusalem, together with the watchful Roman eye on anyone liable to upset the status quo, certainly influenced the style, content, and timing of Jesus’s public communications.
It is first and foremost the Gospel of John that focuses on Jesus’s ministry in Jerusalem. In Jn 5, for example, we read of the lame man who frequents the pool by the Sheep Gate, just north of the temple grounds. Through this same Sheep Gate, herders would usher in the sacrificial flocks; it is a location that may well have set the stage for Jesus’s parable of the sheep and the sheep gate (Jn 10:1–18). Elsewhere, when Jesus declares himself to be the “light of the world” (Jn 8:12) or associates himself with “living water” (Jn 7:37–38), he is probably using images drawn from temple rituals taking place at the concurrent festivals. In John especially, Jerusalem and its temple become a primary source of images for Jesus’s teaching.
Both John and the Synoptic Gospels give detailed accounts of Jesus’s last week in Jerusalem. There is almost certainly symbolic significance to Jesus’s entering Jerusalem from the east, that is, across the Mount of Olives (Mk 11:1–11; cf. Zch 14:4). Over the next few days, Jesus and his disciples spend the nights at nearby Bethany but carry out their daytime activities in or right around the temple (Mk 11–13). After partaking of the Last Supper, which early tradition locates on Mount Zion (the south end of the western hill of the city), Jesus and his disciples proceed east, past the temple, and across the Kidron Valley to Gethsemane (Jn 18:1), on the lower slope of the Mount of Olives. After being arrested, Jesus is then led back and forth between Caiaphas’s home near Herod’s palace and Pilate’s base at the Antonia Fortress (Lk 22:47–23:25; Jn 18). The best evidence suggests that Jesus was crucified due west from here, outside the city walls, at a location marked today by the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. After being raised, Jesus appears to the disciples over the course of forty days, and then finally he ascends from the Mount of Olives (Ac 1:12).
Jerusalem was the focal point of Judaism’s eschatological hopes; it was also the final stage for Jesus’s ministry and calling. Given the complexities of the city’s social and economic life, which constituted a microcosm of the Roman world as a whole, Jesus’s turning his face to Jerusalem allowed not only the fulfillment of Scripture but also the confrontation of dark realities that have haunted individuals of all times and places.
Unlike the other feasts that Jesus attends in the Gospel of John, the Festival of Dedication was a minor, more recent celebration. It recalled the desecration of the temple in 168 BC by the Greek monarch Antiochus IV Epiphanes, the corrupt priests installed by him, and the Maccabean wars, which finally regained and purified the temple in 164 BC. A moving account of this is given in 1 Maccabees 4:36–58, which is followed by Judas Maccabeus’s announcement that this dedication (Hanukkah) should be celebrated each winter on the twenty-fifth day of the Jewish month Kislev (November-December).
The subject of the discourse in Jn 10:1–21 applies directly to the Festival of Dedication (Jn 10:22), which recalled the corrupt priests of the Greek era (Jason and Menelaus) and had in Jesus’s day evolved into a ceremony of priestly rededication. Synagogues read aloud Ezk 34, in which false priests are described as false shepherds. Therefore, in a season that studied religious leadership and its historic failings, Jesus gathers up the current metaphor from Ezk 34 and interprets it in light of his own mission. Just as with the corrupt priests of the Maccabean era, Jesus suggests that there may still be false leaders of God’s people whose intentions are malevolent.
Mary, Martha, and Lazarus appear together only in Jn 11–12. We do not know much about them: they live in Bethany, care for one another deeply, and love Jesus.
Luke 10:38–42 recounts Martha opening her home to Jesus and serving him, while her sister Mary sits at Jesus’s feet and listens. Martha and Mary also have great faith in Jesus. Both know that if Jesus “had been here, my brother would not have died.” Martha’s declaration of faith in Jesus is perhaps the climax of John’s Gospel (Jn 11:27; cf. 20:30–31). After Lazarus is raised, Martha again serves Jesus at a dinner given in his honor, at which Mary extravagantly anoints Jesus’s feet with expensive perfume (Jn 12:1–3).
We know Jesus loves this family (Jn 11:5) and apparently visits their home often. When Lazarus becomes sick, the sisters send word to Jesus, trusting he will help. Despite death threats in Judea, Jesus returns to Judea to help Lazarus. Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead, a powerful display of God’s glory. While this raising leads many Jews to believe in Jesus (Jn 11:45), it also leads the Jewish leaders to plot his death (Jn 11:46–53).
The name Lazarus is also used in a parable (Lk 16:19–31). Lazarus was the third most common name for Palestinian Jews of that time period. Some have suggested that Lazarus is the “one Jesus loved,” the author of the Fourth Gospel (based on Jn 11:3, 5, 36). But it makes little sense that Lazarus is called by name here and later referred to with a cryptic designation of the “one Jesus loved.”
The Dating of the Last Supper in John and the Synoptic Gospels
The Synoptic Gospels record that, during his last week of ministry, during the Passover festival, Jesus enjoys a final meal with his disciples (Mk 14:12–25). Each Synoptic writer terms this “the Passover” (Mt 26:17; Mk 14:12; Lk 22:7–9), which is ordinarily served after dusk on the Jewish date of 15 Nisan (in March-April). The Gospel of John mentions such a meal (Jn 13:2, 26) and indicates through mention of the betrayal of Judas (Jn 13:21–30) that this meal is the Passover from the Synoptics (cf. Mk 14:17–21).
However, John’s date seems not to be 15 Nisan (Passover), for later he will say that Jesus is crucified on 14 Nisan, when the temple lambs are being slaughtered (Jn 19:14). Hence John’s story shows the meal to be on the day of preparation, one night prior to the Passover feast.
Scholars have solved this riddle in a variety of ways. The easiest and most popular solution is simply to say that one Gospel tradition or the other is incorrect. But critics can find fault with each account: Would the Sanhedrin hold a trial on a feast day, as the Synoptics contend? Or has John moved the cross to 14 Nisan to develop a paschal emphasis for Jesus’s death (cf. Jn 19:32–37)? Others have pointed to competing calendars in the first century. Still others think that Jesus was simply offering an irregular Passover meal one day early.
But there is another solution that deserves consideration. It is clear that John understands this meal to be the same one as in the Synoptics. The reference to Judas Iscariot (Jn 13:21–30; cf. Mt 26:20–25) solidly links the two. John also implies that this is indeed a Passover meal: pilgrims must eat it in Jerusalem as the law requires (Jn 11:55; 12:12, 18, 20), it is a ceremonial meal with formal “reclining” (required at Passover), Jesus does not leave the precincts of Jerusalem after the meal (as the law required) but goes to Gethsemane, Passover alms are distributed (Jn 13:29), and the disciples are in a state of Levitical purity (Jn 13:10) required at Passover. Therefore John’s meal clearly suggests a Passover meal. But what about the passages that imply Jesus is crucified on “preparation day”?
The argument that, according to John, Jesus was crucified on 14 Nisan (the day of preparation) is anchored to five texts that imply the Passover has not yet happened when Jesus is crucified: Jn 13:1–2, 29; 18:28; 19:14, 31. But these texts do not necessarily imply that the meal in Jn 13 was before Passover.
In Jn 13:1 “before the Passover Festival” probably describes when Jesus knew his hour had come, and the meal mentioned in Jn 13:2 refers to the Passover itself, described in Jn 13:1. John 13:29 records that Judas must make a purchase for the feast, but this may well be something they need at the moment—or something needed for the next day. In Jn 18:28 the authorities fear defilement from Gentile contact, but such ritual uncleanness would expire at sundown (if it were 14 Nisan). These men likely refer to eating an afternoon meal (the Jewish hagigah) on the day following the night of Passover (15 Nisan). Finally, the “preparation day” referred to in Jn 19:14 and Jn 19:31 does not necessarily refer to preparation for the Passover. It may refer to preparation for the Sabbath. In fact, Jn 19:31 makes the connection with the Sabbath explicit. Mark 15:42 refers to Jesus’s day of crucifixion (Friday) in this manner as well. Furthermore, we have no extrabiblical evidence in Aramaic or Greek describing 14 Nisan as “the preparation day for the Passover.” Many scholars think the phrase may simply be an idiom meaning, “Friday of Passover week” (or, “the day of Sabbath preparation within the week of Passover”).
If this line of reasoning is correct, John’s chronology fits the Synoptic outline perfectly. Thursday evening begins the date 15 Nisan, when Jesus hosts a Passover meal; on Friday afternoon Jesus is crucified on the day of (Sabbath) preparation during Passover. This explanation may appear complex, but it is important, especially to critical discussions of the historical reliability of John’s Gospel.
The Holy Spirit in the New Testament
John the Baptist prophesies that the mighty one will baptize in the Holy Spirit and fire (Mt 3:11; Lk 3:16). John probably recognizes the coming one as divine; he will baptize the wicked with fire (cf. Mt 3:10, 12; Lk 3:9, 17) but the repentant, by contrast, with the Holy Spirit. The OT sometimes associates the Spirit with spiritual purification (Ezk 36:25–27) but most often associates the Spirit with power like the biblical prophets have.
The OT prophesies that the Spirit will be poured out in the time of God’s people’s promised restoration (Is 44:3; 59:21; Ezk 36:24–28; 37:14; 39:29; Jl 2:28–29). Because of this, Jesus can speak of the kingdom active through his works by the Spirit (Mt 12:28; cf. Lk 11:20). Likewise, Paul envisions the Spirit as the “down payment” (2 Co 1:22; 5:5; Eph 1:13–14), “firstfruits” (Rm 8:23), or foretaste of Christians’ future (1 Co 2:9–10; cf. also Heb 6:4–5).
Paul shows that everything in believers’ lives depends on the Spirit. The Spirit produces in believers the fruit of God’s own character (Gl 5:16–25; Rm 8:2–17). Likewise, every believer is invited to minister to others by ministries or gifts energized by the Spirit (1 Co 12:1–31; cf. Eph 4:11–13).
Luke tends to emphasize the prophetic empowerment of the Spirit (Ac 2:17–18) and especially the Spirit’s inspiring power for witness (Ac 1:8). Whereas other writers articulate principles about the Spirit, only Acts depicts the experience of the church. Here Luke shows that, though in principle believers receive the Spirit at conversion and might experience empowerment at conversion (Ac 10:44–45), sometimes they experience this afterward (Ac 8:14–17) and can do so on multiple occasions (Ac 4:8, 31; 13:9). Luke might choose to record incidents of prayer in other tongues at three of the initial receptions of the Spirit (Ac 2:4; 10:45–46; 19:6) because of his book’s emphasis (Ac 1:8): this gift serves as a potent symbol that the Spirit has empowered the larger church to speak for God across cultural barriers.
John’s Gospel sometimes associates the Spirit with the water of life (cf. Jn 7:37–39). Jesus’s gift is greater than Jewish water rituals such as John’s baptism (Jn 1:31–33), ritual purity (Jn 2:6), proselyte baptism (Jn 3:5), a supposed healing shrine (Jn 5:6–8), and so forth. Based on Zch 14 and Ezk 47, Jewish people expected rivers of living water from Jerusalem’s temple at the time of the end; Jesus, the foundation stone of a spiritual temple, claims to be the true giver of such water (Jn 7:37–39).
Jesus’s Farewell Discourse announces that the Spirit will come as a Counselor (Jn 14:16, 26; 15:26; 16:7). The Spirit, coming to dwell in believers after Jesus’s resurrection (Jn 20:22), will ensure that believers are continually in God’s presence (Jn 14:16–17, 23). The Spirit would also continue Jesus’s ministry to the world, perhaps through believers’ witness (Jn 15:26–27; 16:7–11).
John’s description of the Counselor (Jn 14–16), as well as some trinitarian passages (most obviously Mt 28:19), shows that the Spirit is also a person, like the Father and the Son. The primary focus in the NT, though, is on what the Spirit does: revealing the Son, transforming believers into his likeness, and empowering believers to experience Christ and share his eschatological life and kingdom ministry with others.
Jesus’s Postresurrection Appearances
In 1 Co 15:5–8, Paul lists key postresurrection appearances by Jesus, outside of the initial appearance to the women in the Gospels. One of the more informative of the appearances comes to the pair of men walking to Emmaus in Lk 24:13–35. Here they express their hope that Jesus might be the promised Messiah, but they are as of yet uncertain about the claims of an empty tomb. Jesus eventually opens up the Scriptures for them and reveals himself to them. John 20:10–18 shares details of an appearance to Mary Magdalene. The physical nature of Jesus’s body is evident when she clings to him. Jesus tells her to let him go, because he must go to the Father. The appearance to Thomas in Jn 20:24–29 is significant because Jesus appears to one who doubts and invites Thomas to touch him. This invokes a confession from Thomas of “My Lord and my God,” a high point in John’s Gospel and a call to believe without having to see a raised Jesus.
Interestingly, no private appearance to Peter is recorded. Nor is there a detailed appearance for James. The failure to have such appearances points to the care of the church in presenting this material. Second, other skeptics claim these appearances are the product of hope in the church in the midst of grief, as if these are grief-induced events. But claims about Jesus appearing to five hundred at once stand against such notions of emotional suggestion, especially when Paul notes that many of these people are still alive. Third, some attempt to distinguish empty tomb accounts from appearance accounts, but this is an artificial distinction made by skeptics who argue that the idea of a physical resurrection is a later development. Finally, there are appearances where Jesus has a meal with the disciples (Lk 24:36–43). These accounts are designed to show the resurrection was physical (i.e., bodily) in nature and counter the suggestion that these appearances were the result of visions or dreams.
John 21 and the Editing of John’s Gospel
The origin and placement of the final chapter of John’s Gospel has perplexed many. John 20:30–31 seems to be a natural ending to the Gospel, whereas Jn 21 seems to be an appendage. In Jn 20:29 a blessing is given on those “who have not seen” and yet believe, and here we hardly expect another visit from the resurrected Christ. It is even possible that the editors who included this chapter identify themselves in Jn 21:24.
That John’s Gospel has experienced some editorial attention need not surprise us; hints to this effect have been seen all along. We noted the prologue already (Jn 1:1–18) and the account of the adulterous woman (Jn 7:53–8:11, which also raises manuscript variant problems). Each is a narrative with its own unique history. Some scholars also would reverse Jn 5 and 6 for greater sequential clarity. And finally, some have pointed to Jn 11 and 12, suggesting an expansion to the Book of Signs.
But to note such features is not to say that these additions cannot be from the pen of the Fourth Evangelist. On the contrary, each narrative enjoys a striking unity with the rest of the Gospel. In Jn 21 these connections are numerous. In Jn 21:14 the appearance of Jesus is numbered as his third, which presupposes his appearances in Jn 20:19 and Jn 20:26. Typical of the Fourth Gospel is the John/Peter rivalry in Jn 21:7 (cf. Jn 13:23–25; 20:3–9). There is also characteristic Johannine language, such as the charcoal fire in Jn 21:9 (cf. Jn 18:18), the word for “fish” in Jn 21:9–10, 13 (cf. Jn 6:9, 11), the reference to Thomas and Nathanael in Jn 21:2 (cf. Jn 1:45–46; 11:16; 14:5; 20:24), the name of Simon’s father in Jn 21:15 (see Jn 1:42), and the double use of “truly/amen” in Jn 21:18 (see, e.g., Jn 5:19; 6:26; 8:34).
This evidence suggests that Jn 21 is authentically Johannine but secondary to the original format of the Gospel. John 21:20–23 implies that John the apostle has died and that the community he founded is wrestling with his absence. Disciples who have survived their master identify themselves in Jn 21:24. They may even be the source of other editorial “seams,” the testimonials such as that in Jn 19:35, and the special title for John the son of Zebedee, “the [disciple] Jesus loved.” No doubt these disciples collected together John’s teachings—including Jn 21—and gave the Gospel its final form.
From Jerusalem to the End of the Earth
Many have considered Ac 1:8 as providing the ground plan of Acts. In geographical terms, this verse does point to the movement of the gospel: from Jerusalem to Judea and Samaria, and ultimately reaching “the end of the earth.” Not to be missed, however, is the significance of the language used in this verse. The phrase “when the Holy Spirit has come on you” reflects the language of Is 32:15 (cf. Lk 24:49), a passage that points to the eschatological restoration of Israel. The call to be Jesus’s “witnesses” also finds its closest parallels in the prophecies of Isaiah (Is 43:10, 12) where the eschatological people of God will witness the powerful work of God at the end of time.
In light of these references to Isaiah, the references to “Jerusalem,” “all Judea and Samaria,” and “to the end of the earth” take on added significance. According to the programmatic statement in Is 40:1–11, the eschatological era consists of a three-part program: (1) the arrival of the salvation of God in Jerusalem (Is 40:1–2), (2) the restoration and reunification of Israel (Is 40:9–11), and (3) the mission to the Gentiles (Is 40:3–5). Here in Acts, “Jerusalem” likewise points to the first step of this program as God fulfills his promises to Israel. The emphasis on “all” Judea and Samaria points to the reunification of Israel, as “Judea” becomes a symbol for the southern kingdom, and “Samaria” for the northern kingdom. When both “Judea and Samaria” accept the gospel message, one witnesses the fulfillment of God’s promises (Is 11:13). Finally, the phrase “to the end of the earth” appears only four times in the OT (in the Greek Septuagint), in Isaiah (Is 8:9; 48:20; 49:6; 62:11), where it points to the Gentiles. Therefore, this phrase most likely refers to this ethnic group rather than a precise geographical locale such as Spain or Rome. In the context of Isaiah, this phrase points to yet another stage of God’s work, when he rebuilds his people in the messianic age.
From this discussion, it becomes clear that Ac 1:8 not only provides the geographical ground plan of Acts but also points to the three stages of the fulfillment of God’s promise to Israel. In this sense, then, Luke is not merely tracing the geographical expansion of the early Christian movement; he is also describing how the events that follow the ascension of Jesus are significant events in God’s redemptive history.
The word “Sanhedrin” usually refers to the supreme Jewish council in Jerusalem. However, in Mt 5:22; 10:17; and Mk 13:9, it refers to local courts, and in Lk 22:66 and Ac 4:15, it probably refers to the chamber in which the Sanhedrin met.
According to Jewish tradition, the Sanhedrin began with the seventy elders Moses summoned to assist in adjudicating disputes (cf. Nm 11:16). The actual origin, however, probably goes back to Persian times when it was called the council of elders. During the period of the Roman procurators, the Jerusalem Sanhedrin exercised its greatest power.
The Jerusalem Sanhedrin was composed of aristocratic, high priestly members belonging to the Sadducees and was presided over by the high priest. By NT times, representatives of the Pharisees were also admitted to membership (Jn 11:47; Ac 5:34; 23:6).
After the raising of Lazarus, the Sanhedrin determines to put Jesus to death (Jn 11:47–53). Following Jesus’s arrest and a preliminary hearing, Jesus is sent to Caiaphas, the high priest (Jn 18:24). At daybreak, the entire Sanhedrin is convened (Lk 22:66), and they question Jesus and charge him with blasphemy (Mt 26:63–66; Mk 14:60–64). Since this is insufficient to merit capital punishment, the Sanhedrin turns Jesus over to Pontius Pilate on the charge of treason (Mt 27:11–14; Mk 15:1–5; Lk 23:1–5).
Later the Sanhedrin admonishes the apostles to stop preaching in Jesus’s name and has them flogged (Ac 4:5–21; 5:21–41). The martyrdom of Stephen follows his spirited defense before the Sanhedrin and his stinging attack on their leadership (Ac 6:12–8:1).
The apostle Paul stands before the Sanhedrin accused of violating the sanctity of the temple (Ac 21:27–30). He shrewdly bases his defense on the doctrine of bodily resurrection, a conviction shared with the Pharisaic members of the Sanhedrin but rejected by the Sadducees. This results in a “hung jury” (Ac 23:6–10). Some Jews seek to convene another meeting of the Sanhedrin in order to assassinate Paul (Ac 23:12–15), but the plot is discovered and thwarted (Ac 23:16–35).
In the aftermath of the First Jewish Revolt (AD 66–73), the Roman government dissolved the Sanhedrin. A new “Sanhedrin” was constituted at Jamnia (ca. AD 68–80), quite different from its predecessor, composed of rabbinic scholars (successors to the Pharisees) and concerned only with matters of religious law. Its authority lay in voluntary compliance by observant Jews.
Martyrdom in the New Testament and the Early Church
Martyrdom, being put to death for one’s faith, is the extreme of religious persecution. The English term “martyr” is a loan word from the Greek terminology for “witness” (martys and cognates). In the NT there is a connection between being a witness, or testifying, and persecution and death. For example, Jesus warns that persecution, including death, will come to his followers because of their testimony (martyrion; see Mt 10:17–25; 24:9–14; Mk 13:9–13; Lk 21:12–19; cf. Jn 16:1–4). Revelation (2:13; 6:9–11; 12:11; 17:6) also makes a connection between death and being a witness (martys) or giving testimony (martyria). Nevertheless, it was not until the late second or mid-third century that “martyr” became a technical term for one who died for religious faith; the term “confessor” was used for one who gave testimony before authorities but was not killed. To die for one’s faith was seen as admirable, and martyrs came to be honored heroes of Christianity (cf. Rv 2:10). While some Christians were eager for martyrdom (e.g., Ignatius of Antioch), the church soon decided that intentional martyrdom was not honorable.
The NT mentions OT saints (and perhaps faithful Jews of the Maccabean period) who were killed for their faith and preaching (Mt 23:27–36; Lk 11:44–51; Ac 7:51–53; Heb 11:32–40). John the Baptist is imprisoned and killed (Mt 14:1–12; Mk 6:14–29; Lk 3:19–20; 9:7–9), and Jesus himself is persecuted and killed (Jn 5:2–18; Ac 7:51–53). Stephen is considered the first specifically Christian martyr, one who dies for his faith in Jesus Christ (Ac 6:8–8:2; cf. 22:20). James the apostle is killed by Herod Agrippa I (Ac 12:1–2). And Paul indicates a readiness to be martyred (Ac 20:22–24; 21:13; Rm 8:35–39; Php 1:12–21; 2:17; 2 Tm 4:6–8). Extrabiblical sources describe the martyrdoms of the apostles—all except John, who is said to have died a natural death at Ephesus.
Roman Soldiers in the New Testament
In the NT, Roman soldiers play four primary roles: they serve as agents of government, as examples of Gentile faith, as protectors of Paul, and as metaphors for Christian disciples. First, as agents of government, soldiers execute orders to flog and crucify Jesus, during which time they also mock him and gamble for his garment (e.g., Mt 27:26–31; Lk 23:36; Jn 19:23–24, 32–34). Later, soldiers obey orders to guard Jesus’s tomb (Mt 27:65), and after his resurrection they—following instructions from the Jewish leaders—endorse the lie that the disciples stole Jesus’s body (Mt 28:12). Soldiers also act as agents of government in Acts, where they are charged with guarding Peter and Paul in prison (e.g., Ac 12:4–18; 24:23; 28:16).
Second, Roman soldiers serve as examples of Gentile faith and inclusion into the Christian community. For instance, the centurion in Mt 8:5–13 amazes Jesus with his faith (cf. Lk 7:2–9); consequently, Jesus presents this soldier as an example of Gentiles who will participate with the patriarchs in the kingdom of heaven. Similarly, in Ac 10:1–48, God uses another soldier, Cornelius, to demonstrate to Peter that the Lord does not show partiality to the Jews, but that God accepts even Gentiles who fear him and who work righteousness (Ac 10:34–35). Another possible act of faith is that of the centurion in Mt 27:54 who, upon witnessing the crucifixion, professes that Jesus was indeed the Son of God (cf. Lk 23:47).
Third, God uses soldiers to protect Paul from hostile opponents so the apostle can make it to Rome; more than once the soldiers save Paul from the violent mob (Ac 21:30–35; 22:22–24) as well as from would-be assassins (Ac 23:11–35; but cf. 27:41–42).
Finally, NT writers draw on the commitment and calling of Roman soldiers to illustrate Christian discipleship. For instance, Epaphroditus and Archippus are referred to as Paul’s fellow soldiers (Php 2:25; Phm 2). Moreover, Paul admonishes Timothy to share in suffering as a good soldier of Christ and to avoid entanglement in “concerns of civilian life” so that his enlisting officer may be pleased (2 Tm 2:3–4). Similarly, Paul compares Christian leaders to soldiers in order to argue that these leaders, too, are worthy of payment (1 Co 9:7).
After Jesus’s ascension, the believers follow his instructions and go back to Jerusalem to wait for the promised gift of the Holy Spirit (Ac 1:4). In Jerusalem, they stay in a house with a large upper room and join together constantly in prayer (Ac 1:12–14). This passage foreshadows the significant role that houses would play in the life and mission of the early church.
When the promised Spirit comes upon the believers, they again are all together in a house (Ac 2:1). The outcome of this event is the bold witness of the disciples and a great spiritual harvest of over three thousand people (Ac 2:47).
How would the church take care of and teach these new believers? Where would they meet for their worship and prayer gatherings? Such questions must have been at the forefront of issues for the apostles after the birth of Christ’s church. According to Acts, the answer to these questions was not to build large church buildings. (This did not occur until the fourth century when Constantine began erecting Christian basilicas.) Rather, it was to break the large group of believers into smaller groups. In addition to meeting in the temple courts, they regularly met in homes for teaching, prayer, worship, caregiving, meals, and the Lord’s Supper (Ac 2:46).
Most of these churches likely consisted of large homes owned by upper-class Christians (archaeologists have discovered first-century homes of the wealthy in Jerusalem that could hold over one hundred people). Examples of these homeowners include John Mark’s mother, Mary (Ac 12:12); Lydia (Ac 16:15); Nympha (Col 4:15); Philemon (Phm 2); and Priscilla and Aquila (Rm 16:3–5; 1 Co 16:19). In the first century, home ownership was a clear sign of wealth, and in the early church these wealthy believers served as benefactors who would open their homes as Christian gathering places and undoubtedly provide ample hospitality. It is noteworthy that many of these house-church hosts were women.
These house churches met a practical need of providing a gathering place that was relatively inconspicuous during a time when persecution was a constant threat. They also could easily be multiplied as the church grew. They enabled the church to serve common meals and the Lord’s Supper. And ultimately, the house church provided a great context for discipleship and experiencing Christian community.
Roman Names and “Saul—Also Called Paul”
Roman citizens were required to have a tripartite name: a given name (praenomen), a clan/ancestral name (nomen), and a family/tribe name (cognomen). Somewhat the reverse of American culture, Romans often used only their family name in letters. The nomen was not typically used alone in letters. Given names were so limited and common that they were often just written as an initial. Thus the famous orator M. (Marcus) Tullius Cicero referred to himself as Cicero. The nomen came from the gens, the ancestral founder of the family (or the one granting citizenship). Roman culture had great aristocratic families, including the Julius, Brutus, Aemilius, Vettenius, and Sergius clans.
Acts 13:7 tells of the proconsul Sergius Paulus, perhaps L. (Lucius) Sergius Paulus, brother of Q. (Quintus) Sergius Paulus. Perhaps they had a family connection with the aristocratic Sergius clan, but more likely when an ancestor of the Paulus family received his citizenship, he took the nomen of Sergius. Freedmen then used their given name for their new family name. Thus Marcus Tullius Cicero freed his secretary-slave, Tiro, who then became Marcus Tullius Tiro. He did not adopt the Cicero family name.
So what about “Saul—also called Paul” (Ac 13:9)? It is unlikely the apostle changed his name; he simply began using a different part of it. His name was perhaps Saul(us) Paul(us) or Paul(us) Saul(us). We are not given his full name. No Roman citizen in the NT is described by all three names, but Greeks, Egyptians, Jews, and Christians were less likely than Romans to use all three names anyway (e.g., Apion was called Antonius Maximus). Acts places Paul’s name switch precisely at the point of meeting Sergius Paulus. Paul subsequently visits Pisidian Antioch, where the Pauli had connections. Some suggest Saul’s family was freed (manumitted) by a Paulus (Ac 22:28). If so, his name was perhaps Paul Saul, but it seems less likely that “Paul” was his clan name, since he uses it alone in his letters. It is not impossible the apostle was distantly related to the Paulus family, thus Saul Paul.
From inscriptions, ostraca (inscriptions on pottery), and Josephus, we know the name Saul was common in Palestine but not in the Diaspora. Yet King Saul was the most famous person in Paul’s tribe, Benjamin (Php 3:5), making “Saul” a great family/tribal name. In any event, why switch from Saul to Paul? Only Jews would be familiar with a Hebrew king named Saul from a thousand years earlier, making it a great given name or nickname in Jerusalem. Most Greeks had never heard of someone named Saul. They would assume it was a nickname. They only knew the adjective “saulos” (meaning the provocative way prostitutes walked). Also, as Saul moved into regions where the Paulus family was well known, a connection to them became an asset rather than a liability, while the name “Saul” became the reverse.
The Ruling of the Jerusalem Council
As James concludes his speech in Ac 15, he gives the recommendation of the Jerusalem Council about the minimal requirements that should be imposed on the Gentiles as they participate in the people of God (Ac 15:20).The exact nature and meaning of these prohibitions is a subject of intense debate. Some have considered this to be a selection of Mosaic commandments, but this is contrary to Peter’s assertion that the “yoke” should not be placed on the neck of the Gentiles (Ac 15:10). Moreover, the precise selection of these commandments from within the Mosaic law cannot be explained by this reading. Others have pointed to the laws concerning the foreigners living in the land of Israel in Lv 17–18 as the possible context of the decree. These two chapters in Leviticus do address issues concerning idolatry, sexual immorality, and blood, and the purpose of that section in Leviticus is to facilitate the interaction between Israelites and foreigners within the same land and community. The apostolic decree may well address the same sociological concern, as the prohibitions are meant to facilitate the practical interaction between Jews and Gentiles. These, then, should not be considered as requirements through which one can be saved.
A third option is to see this apostolic decree within the context of polemic against pagan worship. This would obviously explain the mentioning of “idols” in the first part of this decree. “Sexual immorality” may point to cultic prostitution or even a general criticism of the immorality of those who worship false gods. References to “anything that has been strangled” and “blood” may also point to Gentile cultic practices. If so, what the decree focuses on is the call to the Gentiles to worship the one and only living God. This reading is preferable because the decree is addressed not to those living in the land of Israel, as in the case of Lv 17–18, but to those who are living in Gentile lands. Both the second and third reading point to the need to read this decree in its proper historical and cultural contexts. Rather than providing abstract and absolute laws for future Christians to observe, this decree calls the Gentiles to live as faithful followers of Jesus Christ.
Luke devotes almost as much space in Acts to describing the apostle Paul’s ministry experiences while in Roman custody as he does to telling his readers of Paul’s free-ranging missionary exploits. Moreover, five of the thirteen Letters of Paul are prison epistles.
Roman incarceration served a number of purposes in antiquity. An accused might be confined for protection or to prevent flight. Prison could also be a place to await sentence or execution and might even serve as the place of execution. Magistrates also used imprisonment as a means of coercion. It was not formally recognized in Roman law as a punishment in itself, but conscious magisterial delay in giving prisoners due process effectively made it such.
The range of Roman custodial possibilities from most to least severe were: prison, military custody, entrustment to civilian sureties, and freedom on one’s own recognizance. There was further variability within each of these arrangements. Prisons and their relative appointments could be better or much worse. The keeping could be relaxed or very close. Chains and stocks might be applied or not. Chains might be light in weight, or so heavy that they severely chafed and even crippled the wearer over time.
Whether one was incarcerated and the severity of the conditions were a function not only of the seriousness of the crime alleged but also of the known relative status of the accused and plaintiff. So, for example, when accused by Romans in a Roman court of law in Philippi, Paul and Silas cannot affirm their Roman citizenship without, by implication, also denying their Jewishness (= Christianity). Consequently, the apostles suffer the humiliation of a severe public beating and imprisonment, treatment normally reserved for low-status malefactors (Ac 16). Alternatively, in Acts wherever Paul’s citizenship becomes known to the Roman authorities, the conditions of his keeping are significantly improved (in the centurions’ barracks in Jerusalem, the governor’s residence in Caesarea, and his own rented apartment in Rome).
Paul’s final letter, 2 Timothy, is a prison epistle that bears witness to another significant dynamic. Greco-Roman culture was driven by issues of honor and shame; within that framework, one of the social consequences of imprisonment and chains was dishonor and shame for the prisoner (Ac 16:37; 1 Th 2:2). Feeding, clothing, and otherwise helping prisoners took great courage, because helpers had to act against the urge to protect themselves from the risk of being “infected” by association with one so publicly disgraced (2 Tm 1:8–12; cf. Heb 10:34). Paul celebrates Onesiphorus and his household for standing alongside and helping him during his imprisonment in Rome (2 Tm 1:16–18). Sadly, however, the apostle also recalls others who have abandoned him in his time of need (2 Tm 4:9–10, 16).
The Greco‐Roman Religious Setting of the New Testament
The Greco-Roman religion was in many ways animistic, with the gods representing natural forces (e.g., Jupiter, the heavens; Juno, women; Apollo, music or youth; Diana, woods and the hunt). At the same time, it was mainly communal and corporate, as the cultic rituals were intended to hold society together. Unlike religion in much of the modern West, the stress was not on individual choice but on group participation in the sacred rites. Religious participation brought together the family, the polis, and national identity. There was no separation between church and state; religion permeated and united every aspect of life. Religion was also a contract between the deity and the person, with obligations on both sides. The purpose was to influence the gods to work on behalf of the people. In all things they sought peace with the gods, and whenever troubles came they thought that the harmony had been somehow broken.
The Greek pantheon was numerous and diverse, with detailed mythology to support the pantheon of the gods. The Roman gods were not as complex as the Greek deities; they had no marriage or offspring, no set of genealogical relationships, and no developed mythology. Therefore, when the Romans conquered the Greeks, they simply took over the Greek gods and identified their gods directly with the Greek gods. At the head of the gods was a supreme council of twelve: Jupiter/Zeus, Juno/Hera, Vesta/Hestia, Minerva/Athena, Ceres/Demeter, Diana/Artemis, Venus/Aphrodite, Mars/Ares, Mercury/Hermes, Neptune/Poseidon, Vulcan/Hephaestus, and Apollo (in both). Then there were earth gods and heroes. The philosophers had long doubted the existence of the gods, but at the same time the sense of civic and familial duty kept the allegiances alive.
In addition, both families and trades would have patron deities, so there arose the Roman cults, where groups would worship a single deity who then became their sponsor in life. The Romans were also open to new deities and new religious ideas—for example, the number who became “God-fearers” and embraced the Jewish religion. Also influential were the growing number of “mystery religions” (e.g., the cults of Isis, Demeter, Cybele, Mithra), which began in the New Testament times and became huge by the third century. Central was the view that the cycle of growth in the harvest represented the cycle of life, death, and especially the afterlife. Secret initiation rites (= mysteries) allowed adherents to rise above the earthly, unite with the deity, and achieve immortality. Some scholars have considered Christianity one of the mystery religions, but the differences are greater than the similarities.
Artemis, known as Diana to the Romans, was a popular Greek deity. She was the daughter of Zeus and Leto, whose twin brother was Apollo. In art and literature she is portrayed as the wandering huntress and chaste virgin. Within the context of Asia Minor she also seems to have acquired characteristics of a mother goddess. Near Ephesus was a grove called Ortygia, which the Ephesians identified as the birthplace of Artemis. The celebration of her birthday each year was one of Ephesus’s largest religious celebrations and attracted thousands of pilgrims. A second popular festival was the Artemesia, during which young men and women traditionally chose their marriage partners.
The temple of Artemis in Ephesus standing in the first century was actually the fifth temple on the site. Built in the fourth century BC, this fifth temple was the largest religious building in the Hellenistic world and was numbered among the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Two other temples to Artemis were located in the province of Asia—at Sardis and at Magnesia on the Meander. The religious image associated with this period is the many-breasted Artemis depicted on coins and statues.
Besides its religious function, the temple of Artemis served three other functions in Ephesus: (1) economic, as the banking center; (2) civic, as the repository of governmental inscriptions; and (3) social, as an asylum offering protection and aid to debtors and the indigent. The special covenant relationship between the city and Artemis’s patron deity is evidenced by the cry raised by the silversmiths and the crowd in Acts: “Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!” (Ac 19:28, 34). The city clerk quiets them by recalling that everyone knows Ephesus is the temple keeper (neokoros) of Artemis and of her image fallen from heaven (Ac 19:35). This neocorate relationship was depicted on some Ephesian coins, which portrayed a woman holding a temple in her outstretched hands.
Roman citizens possessed several specific rights and privileges. Among them was that of conubium, the right to enter a licit Roman marriage, which gave their offspring the rank of Roman citizens and claim to their father’s estate. Roman citizens had the right to both own and sell property outright, the jus commercii, and to access the Roman courts. While both women and men enjoyed these privileges, the latter benefited from the additional rights of voting, joining the Roman legion, and holding public office.
These basic rights of citizenship did not change over time; what changed was the criteria for inclusion on the citizen registry. Initially, the city of Rome granted all privileges of citizenship to male Patricians, wealthy, freeborn landowners. Freeborn men who belonged to the lower class of the Plebeians, and women in both categories, also enjoyed the rights of conubium and commercium.
For most of the history of the Roman Republic, only Roman citizens could serve in the legions. As Rome’s influence stretched across Italy and Latin tribes were given the franchise (often as a group), the need for more troops grew. As a result, first Italians and then free men from free cities within the provinces were admitted to the legions, after first being given Roman citizenship. Julius Caesar began an aggressive program of offering Roman citizenship status to certain regions within the growing boundaries of Rome’s influence. Augustus and subsequent emperors continued this trend in varying degrees. Those in the auxiliary forces were granted citizenship after completing their obligation of twenty-five years of service. Under the emperor Claudius, the grant was extended to the soldier’s wife, children, and descendants retroactively.
A slave, male or female, owned by a Roman citizen was usually granted citizenship upon his or her manumission. Once freed, these new citizens could form licit marriages and their children were recognized as citizens. If either the mother or the father was a Roman citizen, but the other was not, then the marriage was not considered licit under Roman civil law, and the child followed the mother’s status (Roman or non-Roman, slave or free). This general practice was qualified with the lex Minicia (ca. 90 BC), which restricted a foreign man (peregrinus) who married a Roman woman from having children with Roman citizenship. In this case, the children followed the father’s status, even though the marriage was not licit by civil law.
A registry of citizens’ names was kept in Rome and updated approximately every five years, coordinated with the census. The names of freed slaves would be recorded in the local registry with copies sent to Rome. Similarly, a child born to a citizen would be registered within thirty days of birth, and a personal copy of the documentation could be kept at their home. The official document was held in the city’s public archives and perhaps in Rome as well.
There is a final way citizenship could be gained—by paying for it. Such is the situation of Claudius Lysias, the tribune who supervised Paul’s arrest recorded in Ac 22:26–29; 23:26. The tribune states he paid a large sum for his citizenship, which, as his name suggests, he seems to have received under the emperor Claudius.
In the early decades of the first century AD, a Roman citizen was numbered among a distinctive few who had access to resources and privileges. By AD 212, this distinction evaporated, when the emperor Caracalla extended Roman citizenship to all the inhabitants of the empire.
Following his rise to power through the chaos and disruption of civil war, Augustus gave attention to establishing a Roman Empire free of the fear of invasion and piracy, adequately networked with roads and open seaways for ease of transportation and communication, and serviced by a reliable coinage. The effect of these measures was a significant increase in trade and travel. The timing of these arrangements could not have been better for the geographical spread of the gospel, as obedient believers and apostles became a part of that traffic (Ac 1:8).
One means of travel during this time was aboard ships. Mediterranean ships varied considerably in size and configuration depending on their function. Merchant galleys were small, oared craft. While not dependent on the winds, they were slow, worked a more local trade, and stayed quite close to the shoreline. The average sailing vessel was a coasting craft with a single mast rig. With favoring winds, such craft made its destinations speedily and boasted an extended trade range. The ships taken by the apostle Paul and his colleagues from Philippi to Patara (Ac 20:6–21:1) and Caesarea to Myra (Ac 27:1–5) were coasters. Apostolic opportunities in gospel proclamation and stops for congregational encouragement often coincided with the time taken to load and off-load cargo in various ports along the way. Finally, it was left to much larger, multimasted ships like the famed Egyptian grain carrier Isis (it had three masts and an approximate 114-foot keel length and 1,228-ton carrying capacity) to risk the open waters of the Mediterranean individually or in fleets. Paul also traveled on such larger vessels (Ac 27:6; 28:11).
Ships carried a great variety of cargoes: foodstuffs like wine and olive oil, building materials, metals, various kinds of exotica, and that commodity most critical to the health and welfare of the empire and especially Rome: grain. The Egyptian portion of Rome’s grain supply was strategic. The province of Egypt and its grain production were closely controlled by the emperor, and there were rich official inducements for free-merchants and investment cooperatives to ensure Rome’s regular supply, even if that meant traveling during the dangerous season.
Mediterranean shipping was generally subject to seasonal weather patterns. Ancient sources indicate a safe season from early May to mid-September. The periods from early March to the end of April and from mid-September to early November were more risky. The most dangerous time was from early November to early March. Inclement weather could obliterate a view of the sun, moon, and stars, by which mariners navigated, and render well-known coastlines unfamiliar. Violent Mediterranean storms claimed countless ancient vessels. Luke’s account of the wreck of the Alexandrian carrier on which Paul was a passenger (Ac 27)—not the first but the fourth shipwreck of Paul (2 Co 11:25)—reads with great accuracy to meteorological conditions in the dangerous season, the ship’s appointments, and the attempts of crew and passengers to preserve the ship and its cargo. The account also redounds to the faith of Paul and the faithfulness of God (Ac 27:21–44).
Known as the Eternal City, Rome captured the imaginations and terrified the hearts of many from its rise to power in the fifth century BC to its fall in the fifth century AD. Rome’s origins reach back into myth and legend. The Latins who settled Rome trace their ancestry to Aeneas, son of the goddess Venus and defender of Troy, whose adventures are recounted by Virgil in The Aeneid (first century BC). Among Aeneas’s descendants were twin boys, Remus and Romulus, who are credited with founding Rome in 753 BC. Legend asserts that as infants the twins were left to die near the banks of the Tiber River, but they were suckled by a she-wolf, Lupa Capitolina, who came to represent Rome itself. Julius Caesar and his adopted son Octavian (later Emperor Augustus) traced their ancestry back to Aeneas and Venus.
Rome sits on the western side of the Italian peninsula. The earliest settlers lived on the hills that rise from the eastern shores of the Tiber River. The seven hills of Rome became an identity marker for the city. Rome itself is situated on the Tiber River, which emptied into the Mediterranean Sea at the port of Ostia, approximately sixteen miles from Rome.
In the seventh and sixth centuries BC, a marshy area between the Capitoline, Palatine, and Esquiline Hills was drained; the Roman forum was built on the resulting field. When the seventh and final king of Rome was overthrown in about 510 BC, Rome established itself as a Republic. By Augustus’s time (ruled 27 BC–AD 14), 150,000 spectators watched chariot races at the Circus Maximus from bleachers extending around three-quarters of the oval track.
Wealth poured into Rome. By the end of the third century BC, Rome was the largest city in Italy, rivaling contemporary Alexandria, Egypt, and Antioch in Syria. Julius Caesar’s murder in 44 BC plunged the city into a bloody civil war, with most Romans longing for peace. The subsequent rise to power of his adopted son, Octavian, signaled the end of the Republic and the beginning of Imperial Rome. The new emperor, known as Augustus, recorded his accomplishments in the Res Gestae, wherein he declares he built or refurbished eighty-two temples in Rome.
In AD 64 a great fire consumed roughly 70 percent of the city. According to the historian Tacitus, it began at the Circus and quickly spread through the overcrowded wooden structures. The people blamed Nero, who deflected their accusations onto Christians, brutally killing many. Nero’s suicide in AD 68 threw the city into disarray, but within a year the great general Vespasian became emperor (ruled AD 69–79). His son Titus quelled the Jewish rebellion in the Roman province of Palestine and sacked Jerusalem (including the temple) in AD 70; an arch commemorating that victory was commissioned by the Senate in AD 81, after his death. The monument includes a relief of Roman soldiers carrying away pillaged treasures from the Jerusalem temple. The Colosseum, perhaps the best-known building today in Rome, was commissioned by Vespasian to house gladiatorial games. The fifty-thousand-seat amphitheater was built in no small part by Jewish slaves using plunder taken after the Jewish War.
Outside the city walls can be found catacombs, burial tunnels used by Jews residing in Rome beginning in the first century BC. Inscriptions indicate there were at least thirteen synagogues within Rome. In the second century AD, Christians also used catacombs as burial sites.
The confession that “faith alone” makes a person right with God became a central element of the Reformation and continues to distinguish Protestant Christianity from Roman Catholicism. Paul’s teaching on this matter—which appears prominently in Galatians and Romans, but also elsewhere in his letters—may be found in brief form in his summary assertion that someone is made right with God by faith, not works of the law (Rm 3:28). The background to Paul’s statement lies in the contention between God and the human being, who in idolatry and unbelief rejects the good Creator and declares him a liar, and in so doing becomes a liar (Rm 1:18–32; 3:1–8). The holy, good, and gracious law of God was given to Israel in order to increase sin and thus to manifest the truth that we all are under the power of sin (Rm 5:20; 7:1–25; 2 Co 3:4–11; Gl 3:19–22). In this way the law points us to Christ (Rm 3:19–21).
Paul’s Jewish-Christian opponents and many other Jews imagined, however, that the law was given in order to further God’s grace to them and so improve them (Rm 2:17–29; Gl 1:6–9; 5:1–12). Paul’s assertion, that justification takes place by faith, apart from the law, constitutes an attack on that view. “Faith” for Paul is not an abstract quality but rather exists only in relation to the proclamation of the incarnate, crucified, and risen Christ, in whom all God’s unconditional promises have come to fulfillment. Therefore, when Paul says we are “justified by faith,” he is saying we are justified by Christ, by whom God creates faith in the fallen human heart (Rm 3:21–26, 28; Gl 3:23–29; Php 3:2–11).
Justification is the act of God’s saving judgment—an extraordinary righteousness that transcends guilt and recompense—that took place in the cross and resurrection of Jesus and is distributed through the preaching of the gospel (Rm 1:16–17; 3:21–26; Gl 2:15–21). As an act of God, it is simultaneously a declaration and a deed, both a word and a work of God, in which the fallen human being is both forgiven and created anew (Rm 6:1–11; 1 Co 6:11; 2 Co 5:17–21; Gl 2:19–21). Our righteousness remains “located” in the crucified and risen Lord, to whom we are bound by faith (Rm 10:4; 1 Co 1:30; Php 3:6–11). In this way, the fallen and idolatrous human being is restored to faith in the Creator, the right relation to God in which we were made to live (Gn 3:1–13; 15:6). God counts this faith as righteousness, just as he did with Abraham, through whom he promised to bring blessing to all nations (Rm 4:1–9; Gl 3:6–9). This justifying work of God in the gospel is the fulfillment of God’s promise to reveal his saving righteousness before all nations in an act of “ruling and judging” in which the Creator of the world conquers the powers of chaos and evil and establishes righteousness, just as he did in the original act of creation (Pss 89:5–18; 98:1–9; Is 51:9–11; 59:9–11). “God’s righteousness” is thus distinct from “God’s faithfulness” in that it presupposes the context of battle and contention over righteousness.
Similarly, justification and sanctification are different dimensions of the one saving act of God in Christ, and not distinct events that may be placed in a logical order (1 Co 1:30; 6:11). Justification differs from sanctification in that justification bears a distinctly verbal (and thus forensic) dimension, bringing human beings to confess the wonder of God’s righteousness in the face of our sin and rebellion. As the entrance of the new creation into the present, fallen world (2 Co 5:17–21), God’s justifying work in Christ stands in closest proximity to Jesus’s announcement of the kingdom of God as it appears in the Gospels (Mt 5:6, 20; 6:33; cf. Rm 14:17). Since in God’s work of justification we already share in the age to come by faith in Jesus Christ, in Christ God shall yet bring us through final judgment to salvation (Rm 5:9–10, 15–21). The works by which we shall stand at the final judgment are precisely the fruit of the Spirit and the age to come already at work in us (Gl 5:1–6, 22–26; 6:14–16). Since God’s justifying work in Christ is nothing other than the final judgment brought into the present, it becomes clear that Paul and James complement each other (Rm 3:21–31; 4:1–25; Jms 2:18–26). To be justified is to have Jesus Christ as Lord and to live in the assurance that he has conquered our sin and our death in order that we might live forever with him in his kingdom.
Law and Grace in Paul’s Letters
Although the law is the good and holy gift of God to Israel (Rm 7:12), through the law we fallen human beings come to know the tragic and wretched experience of sinning (Rm 7:7–13). We thereby come to know ourselves as sinners, who are accountable for our deeds and yet under the power of sin (Rm 3:9–20; 7:14–25). The law thus furthers God’s wrath (Rm 4:15). The law comes to us fallen human beings as a sanction and demand to which life and death are attached: “The one who does these things will live by them” (Lv 18:5; see Rm 10:5; Gl 3:12). For this reason, Paul speaks of the law as “written code” (Rm 2:25–29; 7:6; 2 Co 3:6). Even if we are able to conform with its outward demands (Php 3:6), no one can remove coveting from their heart. No one fears, loves, and trusts in God above all things. The law thus works our condemnation (Rm 7:7–13). It is weak “by the flesh,” that is, through our bondage to sin (Rm 8:3).
In the wonder of God’s grace, God’s saving righteousness has been revealed “apart from law” in the gospel (Rm 3:21–26). In Jesus Christ alone, God has spoken and acted decisively on our behalf (Rm 5:1–3, 15–21; 7:25; Gl 1:6; 2:21; 5:4). In Christ and his resurrection, the law’s righteous offer of life has come to its fulfillment (Rm 8:3–4). In the hand of God, then, the law works in a strange and backward way to further God’s final purpose: God gives life to those whom he has first put to death, justifies those whom the law condemns, and makes saints out of those whom the law declares sinners (Rm 3:9–31; 4:1–25; 5:11–8:39; 2 Co 3:4–18). In this way, the law serves the saving purpose of God. The law was given long after God gave Abraham his unconditional promise of blessing (Gl 3:15–18). The law comes to its goal in Jesus Christ, in whom the age to come has entered the present (Rm 10:4). As the good but limited gift of God to Israel, the law anticipates God’s greater gift of himself to us in his crucified and risen Son (Rm 10:5–13). Paul thus takes up the language of Jr 31:31–34 and characterizes the law and its demands as “the old covenant” (2 Co 3:14). It has been overcome and transcended by the new covenant fulfilled in Jesus Christ, in whom God’s Spirit and grace are found (Rm 7:6; 1 Co 11:25; 2 Co 3:6).
In Rm 9:4–5, Paul lists several characteristics that constitute Israel’s privileges. As Israelites, they bear the name of honor that God gave to Jacob (Gn 32:28–39). They received the adoption and thus are God’s “firstborn son” (Ex 4:22; Dt 14:1; Hs 11:1). As Abraham’s descendants, Jews therefore have a unique, special relationship with God. They also have glory, the manifestation of God’s weighty presence in their midst, focused on the tabernacle and later the temple (Ex 29:43–45; 40:34–35; 1 Kg 8:1–13). They have the covenants, God’s commitments in the time of Abraham (Gn 15:1–21), Isaac (Gn 26:4–5), Jacob (Gn 28:4, 13–14; 35:11–12), Moses at Sinai (Ex 19:5), Joshua (Jos 8:30–35), David (2 Sm 23:5), Josiah (2 Kg 23:3), and Nehemiah (Neh 9:1–10:39). They have the law; they therefore received the revelation of God’s holy, good, and just will. They have the temple and worship, allowing them access to God (Ex 12:25–26; Jos 22:27). They have the promises God made to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to Moses and to David and to other leaders of Israel, including the promises concerning salvation and eternal life. They have the ancestors—the patriarchs—the leaders of God’s people since Abraham. And the Messiah comes from Israel, representing the fulfillment of the promises God made to the ancestors.
Paul also links these attributes with believers in Jesus Christ, whether they are ethnic Jews or converted Gentiles. Paul notes that not all Israelites truly belong to Israel; rather, it is the children of the promise, those who believe as Abraham believed (Rm 4), who count as true descendants of Abraham (Rm 9:6–8). Believers in Jesus Christ therefore have received God’s Spirit, who grants them “adoption” into God’s family as God’s children (Rm 8:14–15, 23; cf. Gl 4:5–7; Eph 1:5). As a result of faith in Jesus Christ, the glory of God, which humankind has lost, is restored to all who believe (Rm 3:23–24; 5:1–2; 8:17–21). Believers in Jesus Christ experience the benefits of the new covenant (Rm 8:3–4; cf. 2 Co 3:6; Eph 2:12). Believers have access to God on account of the saving work of Jesus Christ, worshiping God in everyday life (Rm 5:1–2; 12:1–2). The promises given to Abraham are fulfilled in all people who believe as Abraham believed (Rm 4:16; 15:8–9). Gentile believers are also counted among Abraham’s descendants (Rm 4:16). Believers in Jesus acknowledge him as Messiah, whether Jews or Gentiles, while unbelieving Jews do not know him (Rm 9:5).
This does not mean that Israel’s privileges have been transferred to “the church” (conceived of as consisting of Gentile believers). But these privileges do not guarantee the salvation of all Jewish people. Paul wants them to be saved, but this means that they must come to faith in Jesus as Messiah and Lord. Israel’s unbelief also does not mean that the word of God has failed. God’s promises for Israel have not been canceled. Being authentic descendants of Abraham is determined not by birth but by the sovereign will of God. As Paul confirms in Rm 9:6, God’s promises for Israel have not been abrogated.
Most commentators interpret the term “Israel” in Rm 11:26 as a reference to ethnic Jews. If this is correct, Paul asserts that “all Jews” will be saved. This does not likely mean “all Jews/Israelites throughout history.” The suggestion that there is a separate path to salvation for Jews and for Gentiles, with the former being saved at the end through their faithfulness to the (old) covenant and their obedience to the law, is unlikely in view of Paul’s burning desire for the Jewish people to be saved (Rm 9:1–3; 10:1), which happens when they no longer stumble over Jesus the Messiah (Rm 9:32–33).
Most suggest that “all Israel will be saved” means that there will be a large-scale conversion of Jews to faith in Christ at the end, with the word “all” referring to the corporate identity of Israel as a whole. Others understand “all Israel” as believing Jews and believing Gentiles who have been integrated into the one people of God’s new covenant on account of God’s grace through Jesus Christ. (For this comprehensive meaning of “Israel” as designation of the people of God consisting of Jewish and Gentile believers in Jesus, see Gl 6:16.)
Those who see in Rm 11:26 a reference to a future conversion identify the coming of the “Deliverer” (cf. Is 59:20) with the risen Lord Jesus who comes “from Zion,” who returns from the heavenly Jerusalem at the end of the present age. Those who see a reference to a process that takes place in the present and that culminates in future conversions of Jews identify the coming of the deliverer from Zion with the coming of the historical Jesus, on account of whose death in Jerusalem God grants redemption to Jews and Gentiles.
These main plausible interpretations of “all Israel” all have a difficult element. Either “all” is reduced to “many,” or “Israel” in Rm 11:26 is given a different meaning than in Rm 11:25.
There can be no doubt that Paul wants Jews to be saved now and that he reaches out to the Jewish people in his missionary work. Whether there will be a large-scale conversion of Jews in the future before the end does not change Paul’s eagerness to evangelize in the synagogues of the cities in which he works as a missionary.
The “Weak in Faith” in Romans 14:1–15:6
In Rm 14, Paul describes as “weak in faith” (Rm 14:1) those believers who constrain themselves with certain dietary practices: they eat only vegetables (Rm 14:2), they do not drink wine (Rm 14:21), and they observe certain days (Rm 14:5). These were likely Jewish believers (and Gentile Christians influenced by Jewish traditions) who practiced the dietary laws and who observed certain days as holy (including probably the Sabbath).
Eating meat and drinking wine are not prohibited by the Jewish law. However, Jews could eat only meat that was kosher—in other words, slaughtered according to the rules of the law (Israelites may not eat blood; cf. Dt 12:15–16). When Claudius evicted the Jews from the city of Rome in AD 49, the Jewish slaughterhouses were probably shut down, prompting Jews who remained in the city (and Jews who later returned) to refrain from eating meat altogether in order to avoid any unclean meat. As wine may have been offered in ritual libations in pagan temples before it was sold in the market, a scrupulous observance of the law led some Jews to refrain from drinking wine altogether (cf. Daniel and his friends, Dn 1:3–16; 10:3).
Paul argues that those who observe these practices must not condemn those who do not, and that those who eat and drink anything must not despise those who have religious scruples regarding matters related to diet. Paul does not refrain from giving his opinion: those who have scruples concerning food or the observance of certain festival days are weak in their faith.
The apostle Paul succeeds in his Gentile mission due in large part to a network of Christian brothers and sisters he began to establish shortly after his call to be an apostle (Gl 1–2). Depending on how broadly the term is defined, eighty to ninety people are described as Paul’s “coworkers” in Acts and the NT letters attributed to him. Some appear to relate to Paul as equals (e.g., Barnabas, Apollos, Priscilla, and Aquila), and others as subordinates (e.g., Timothy, Titus, Tychicus). Some work closely with Paul (e.g., Timothy, Luke, Silvanus); others independently (e.g., Apollos, Priscilla, Aquila, Barnabas). Some carry out their work primarily in a local setting (e.g., Philemon, Euodia), and others travel with Paul or serve as his delegates when he cannot travel (Luke, Timothy, Titus).
In his letters, Paul refers to these associates by a variety of terms. The types of services these associates provide Paul and his congregations depend primarily on the gifts given to each (e.g., Rm 12:6–8; 1 Co 12:4–11). Coworkers assist Paul in his travels, in his preaching and teaching ministry, in hosting church gatherings, in repairing problems in the churches, in meeting his needs while he is in prison, and in writing letters. When Paul establishes a church, he identifies and trains local leaders to work in cooperation with him. He instructs leaders and congregations in person when present and by letter when absent.
While the term “apostle” may be used narrowly to refer to “the Twelve” (e.g., Ac 4:35–37), Paul uses it more broadly to refer to others including himself, Apollos, and Barnabas. The phrase “apostles of the churches” extends the usage further by referring to individuals chosen and commissioned by local congregations (e.g., Epaphroditus [Php 2:25] and Andronicus and Junia [Rm 16:7]).
Remarkably, given women’s social status at the time, Paul designates a number of women as coworkers. Phoebe, Euodia, Syntyche, Apphia, Priscilla (= Prisca), and Junia exercise leadership locally and serve as traveling missionaries. The more affluent among them serve as benefactors, providing hospitality by opening their homes for lodging and for gatherings of the local churches. Women gifted otherwise are involved in ministries of preaching and teaching.
Some of Paul’s coworkers contribute to the letters he writes. Eight of the thirteen letters attributed to Paul name cosenders. Paul’s name and titles appear first, followed by the names of others, including Sosthenes, Silvanus (= Silas), Timothy, and Titus. The extent of their contribution is unclear, but they likely have some role in composing the letter. Likewise, most of Paul’s Letters bear the distinct marks of secretarial influence. The only named secretary in Paul’s Letters is Tertius (Rm 16:22). His greeting “in the Lord” demonstrates he is a coworker in the mission. In the final analysis, Paul’s Letters are not products of a single mind. Properly understood, his letters are a collaborative enterprise, an interchange of ideas and traditions between Paul, his secretaries, and his cosenders.
Corinth is located about fifty miles west of Athens, Greece, on the northern side of the Peloponnesus. Corinth is situated on a four-and-a-half-mile-long isthmus between two harbors and is an international crossroads between the western Mediterranean and Asia.
Corinth was a Greek city-state before the fifth century BC and a leading center of commerce before its conquest by Rome in 146 BC. The city was not rebuilt for a century, but it was eventually repopulated by ambitious and competitive freedmen from Rome, whose social status was just above that of a Roman slave. In the first century BC, during the reign of Julius Caesar, the city made a significant shift toward its development as a Roman colony. Excavations have revealed the use of Latin coins dating from 44 BC, and the practice of civil religion no longer focused on the Greek gods but focused on the emerging emperor worship of the Romans.
A century later, when Paul lived in Corinth for eighteen months, Greek was still the official language, but the inscriptions and names of those in the city were predominantly Latin. Eight of the seventeen Corinthian Christians named by Paul have Roman names.
The aristocracy of the “new” Corinth reflected the ambition and independence of the “newly rich.” Indeed, slaves outnumbered free citizens within the city two to one, which is an indication of the new wealth that was created in Rome’s new Corinthian colony. The elite of the city identified with Rome, but Greek influence still prevailed in much of the city’s culture. Corinth was the host city for the Panhellenic games, athletic events second only to the Olympics of Athens’ fame.
However, like any urban city today, there was a wide disparity between the haves and have-nots, and the turmoil this often creates is clearly reflected in Paul’s concern regarding the unity of the church and its witness to the city at large. Most Corinthian Christians were not wealthy (1 Co 1:26) and many were slaves (1 Co 7:20–24), but social conflict over status does appear to have been an issue in the Corinthian church. The independent, competitive spirit that had rebuilt the city was alive and well in the Christian faith community.
The church of Corinth also reflected similar conflicts and problems that are still common today in any large harbor city with a culturally and socially diverse population and booming business. Corinth was a cauldron in which a broad religious pluralism mixed with crime, sexual promiscuity, and a variety of entertainment options. Five years before Paul founded the church during his second missionary journey, a fourteen-thousand-seat theater was renovated. And although the official practice of the empire’s civil religion didn’t require belief in any particular god, there were at least twenty-six sacred places and sanctuaries. The most popular sites were sanctuaries devoted to Asclepius, Athena, and Aphrodite.
Scholars differ on the extent of Corinth’s reputation as a place for all sorts of sexual practices and pleasures. It is known that the temple of Aphrodite used many temple slaves as prostitutes. Ancient writers commented on the sexually promiscuous atmosphere of Corinth, some with a tone of condemnation and some with a measure of appreciation, promotion, and even humor. Prostitution was viewed as part of the city’s trade and commerce. The sexual behavior of male Gentiles would obviously come into conflict with the standards of monogamous purity mandated by Judaism. The influx of Jews from Rome to Corinth just before the founding of the church would certainly have heightened religious and social tensions within the city. This same tension and conflict within the church community seems to be a significant concern to Paul.
The apostle Paul stayed in Corinth for a year and a half (Ac 18:11) and was joined by a Jewish Christian couple who were exiles from Rome, Aquila and Priscilla (Ac 18:2). To say the least, Corinth was a challenging place for church planting. Not only did the pagan nature of the city make discipleship particularly difficult, but the Jewish population of the city notably resisted the establishment of the church, which they saw as an aberrant sect of Judaism. The volatile temperament of the city and its citizens is reflected clearly in Luke’s account of Paul’s appearance before the legal tribunal (Ac 18:12–17).