ABORTION IS THE NUMBER ONE KILLER OF

black lives, outnumbering the CDC’s reported top 15 leading causes of deaths among blacks in 2014combined. The pro-abortion Guttmacher Institute (created by Planned Parenthood) reported 926,200 abortions in 2014, 28% of which were among black women. That’s 259,336 deaths (711 per day) via induced abortions versus 246,122, respectively. Read more here

A NEW HUMAN BEING IS CONCEIVED

“A new human being is conceived when a sperm fertilizes an egg. The sperm has 23 chromosomes and so does the egg. But the fertilized egg has 46, half from each parent, and is genetically unique. These 46 chromosomes, which are fixed at conception, establish the child’s sex and are a blueprint for how it will develop, both during pregnancy and after birth.” Science 

 

DID YOU KNOW THAT…?

True freedom is not found through sexual “liberation,” but through healthy boundaries. True freedom is found through recognizing human dignity. True freedom is found in living according to our design. As countercultural as it is, true freedom can only be found through embracing the biblical view of relationships, sex, and marriage.
SOURCE: https://stream.org/unraveling-sexual-revolution/

The Conundrum of the Council of Jerusalem

One of the greatest particular perplexities in New Testament scholarship is the discrepancy
between Paul’s account of the conference in Jerusalem in Galatians 2:1-10 and the council of
Jerusalem in Acts 15:1-35.
The main similarities are as follows:
1) Paul and Acts both say that Paul and Barnabas went together to a meeting in
Jerusalem.
2) Paul and Acts both say that the major issue of discussion was whether male Gentile
Christians should be circumcised.
3) Paul and Acts both state that the controversy was provoked by Jewish Christians who
advocated that Gentile Christians must practice circumcision and adhere to the Torah.
Paul describes these as “false brothers secretly brought in,” and Acts describes them
as “some believers who belonged to the sect of the Pharisees” who asserted that it
was necessary for Gentile Christians “to be circumcised and ordered to keep the law of
Moses.”
4) Paul and Acts both acknowledge that the meeting was tense. Paul says, “we did not
submit to them [the false brothers secretly brought in] even for a moment,” and Acts,
while emphasizing the positive outcome of the meeting, acknowledges that the Christian
Pharisees, with whom Paul and Barnabas had previously had “no small dissension and
debate,” were present..
5) Paul says James, Cephas, and John “recognized the grace that had been given to me”
and gave “Barnabas and me the right hand of fellowship.” Acts says that “the whole
assembly kept silence, and listened to Barnabas and Paul as they told of all the signs
and wonders that God had done through them among the Gentiles” and then James
made clear that the church in Jerusalem would affirm the mission to the Gentiles and not
require that Gentile males would have to be circumcised.
The key differences are as follows:
1) Paul portrays “a private meeting with the acknowledged leaders” of the church in
Jerusalem. Acts portrays an official council with “the apostles and the elders” who issued
a formal letter from the council to the churches in Antioch, the rest of Syria, and Cilicia.
2) Paul makes clear that the issue of contention was the circumcision of Gentile Christian
males. Acts portrays the council as primarily addressing the issue of circumcision,
but also states that the council decreed that Gentiles should “abstain only from things
polluted by idols and from fornication and from whatever has been strangled and from
blood.”
3) Paul says that the “leaders contributed nothing to me,” but later acknowledged that
“they asked only one thing, that we remember the poor, which was actually what I was
eager to do.” Acts says that, following the direction of James, the council agreed that
Gentile Christians should “abstain only from things polluted by idols and from fornication
and from whatever has been strangled and from blood,” which is a reference to the
requirements of the law of Moses in Leviticus 17-18 for “the aliens who reside among the
Israelites.”
4) Paul is clear that this meeting was his second visit to Jerusalem, but Acts portrays the
meeting as Paul’s third meeting. Both Paul and Acts state that Paul’s first visit was for
the purpose of Paul becoming acquainted with at least Peter [ a fifteen day meeting
when Paul was informed of the official traditions of the apostles concerning the story
and sayings of Jesus and the apostolic kerygma as indicated in 1 Corinthians 15:3-7].
However, Acts lists an additional visit by Paul to Jerusalem between the first meeting
and the council of Jerusalem: Acts 11:27-30 states that the church in Antioch sent an
offering of money to Jerusalem with Barnabas and Paul to relieve a famine.
It seems that Paul in Galatians 2 and Luke in Acts 15 are both discussing the same meeting.
Some of the differences between the two accounts are not significant.
Paul says that he took Titus with him to the meeting, but that Titus was not compelled to be
circumcised. Acts does not mention Titus. However, this is a detail from Paul’s memory which
was not necessary for Luke to mention.
Scholars often stress that Paul portrays a “private meeting” with “acknowledged leaders” and
only mentions specifically “James and Cephas and John,” but that Acts says that it was an
official council consisting of “the apostles and the elders” of the church of Jerusalem meeting
with Paul and Barnabas. However, if one reads between the lines of Paul’s letter to the
Galatians, it is evident that persons other than James, Peter (Cephas), and John were present,
for Paul’s singling out James, Peter, and John as “pillars” does not mean that there were not
other “acknowledged leaders” present, which is consistent with Luke’s characterization of “the
apostles and the elders” of the church of Jerusalem. Moreover, Paul also speaks of “false
brothers secretly brought in.” These would be identical with Luke’s mention of the presence
of “some believers who belonged to the sect of the Pharisees.” Obviously, Paul implies that
he did not think that these “false brothers” should have been present, but he does in effect
acknowledge that there was a party at the meeting which Luke describes as “some believers
who belonged to the sect of the Pharisees” who were advocating that the Gentile Christians
should be “ordered” to obey the law of Moses.
Moreover, Paul’s description of a “private meeting” gives the connotation of a personal
conversation conducted by a few key leaders of the church, but it may be that the meeting
was intended to be a confidential meeting of officials and relevant parties rather than merely
a personal conversation between Paul and Barnabas and select leaders of the church in
Jerusalem. Paul’s polemical description of “false brothers secretly brought in” indicates that
Paul expected that he and Barnabas would discuss the issue of circumcision with the leaders in
Jerusalem in a confidential meeting without the presence of those who were the agitators. From
Act’s account, one could infer that the leaders in Jerusalem intended all along to include the
agitators since their presence would be necessary to bring resolution to the dispute regarding
the relation of Gentile believers to the law of Moses.
Furthermore, Acts portrays Paul and Barnabas as delegates of the church in Antioch whereas
Paul does not state that he attended the meeting as a delegate from Antioch. Instead, Paul says
that he went “in response to a revelation.” However, both the acknowledgement of Barnabas’
presence with him and his allusion to an incident at Antioch in Galatians 2:11ff. is consistent
with Acts’ claim that Paul and Barnabas had attended the meeting together as delegates from
the church in Antioch, the center of the Gentile mission that had a special relationship with the
church in Jerusalem. It is not clear exactly what Paul means by “a revelation.” It sounds as if
he went to the meeting on his own initiative as a response to guidance from the risen Lord or
the Holy Spirit, perhaps experienced by him in the form of a vision. However, Paul’s agenda
in Galatians is to establish his apostolic authority in the eyes of the Galatian readers, and this
agenda would cause him to emphasize his own motivation in attending the meeting rather than
his agreement to be sent by the church of Antioch as one of its delegates. Probably Paul is
not even referring to an inner prompting or vision he had received when he speaks of going to
the meeting “in response to a revelation,” but he is talking about how he went to the meeting
in order to explain and defend his mission to the Gentiles which he had received “through a
revelation of Jesus Christ” (Galatians 1:12).
There are enough striking similarities between Galatians 2 and Acts 15 to assume that they are
accounts of the same meeting in Jerusalem. Indeed, the different descriptions of the meeting
by Paul and Acts can be reconciled rather well when one takes into considerations the different
purposes of the writers. Paul is making a personal report to the Galatians in the interest of
defending his apostleship to the Gentiles commissioned by the risen Lord, and the author of
Acts is narrating an important event in the life of the early church which gives the perspective of
all the participants in the council.
The conundrum consists of the two major differences between Galatians and Acts: Paul never
mentions any decree made at the meeting regarding the dietary rules, etc., and he is emphatic
that this meeting was only his second visit to Jerusalem. In discussing his activities, Paul says in
Galatians 1:20. “In what I am writing to you, before God, I do not lie!” [Jesus forbade oaths, but
Paul swears oaths all the time in his epistles!]
The scholarly debate about this conundrum has sometimes been as contentious as the
controversy in the early church over circumcision of Gentiles! It would be constructive if
everyone would be willing to both recognize that Paul was telling the truth (“I do not lie!”)
and that Luke, the author of Acts, had good information about the church in Jerusalem. As
Bruce Metzger has said, it is probable that Luke had access to “the archives of the church
in Jerusalem.” Luke’s information that the church in Jerusalem had issued a decree asking
Gentile Christians to observe what the law of Moses requires of “aliens who resides among
the Israelites” is accurate since both Revelation 2:14, 20 and early second century tradition
attest that this teaching was present at least in the churches in Asia Minor. How then can the
conundrum be solved?
One of the solutions proposed by scholars of Acts such as F.F. Bruce, beginning with J.B.
Lightfoot, is that Paul and Barnabas had a private meeting with James, Peter, and John when,
according to Acts 11:27-30, Paul made his second visit to Jerusalem with Barnabas to deliver
an offering to assist the poor in the church in Jerusalem. In other words, it is a mistake to
assume that the conference Paul describes in Galatians 2 is equivalent to the council Luke
describes in Acts 15; instead, the conference Paul describes in Galatians 2 took place during
his visit to Jerusalem which is described in Acts 11. Of course, Acts 11 does not mention
that Paul and Barnabas discussed the issue of circumcision, but Luke may not have known
about the personal conversation that occurred. This would mean that the official council
described in Acts 15 was held later during a third visit by Paul to Jerusalem and that the letter
to the Galatians was written by Paul before the council of Jerusalem (thus explaining why, in
Galatians, Paul speaks of having made only two visits to Jerusalem). The clue that Galatians 2
should be coordinated with Acts 11 is the mention in Acts that Paul and Barnabas had gone to
Jerusalem to present an offering for the poor, an offering that is mentioned in Galatians 2. The
beauty of this solution, especially from the perspective of Acts scholars, is that it removes the
apparent contradiction between Paul’s assertion in Galatians that he had only made two visits
to Jerusalem and the overall report in Acts that Paul visited Jerusalem five times (not counting
Acts 12:25 which most scholars think should be translated from the alternate codices which
read “from Jerusalem” rather than “to Jerusalem”). In other words, Luke’s report that Paul made
five visits to Jerusalem can be accepted because the two visits Paul mentions in Galatians
would be understood as referring to the two visits in Acts 9:26-30 and 11:27-30.
While this proposal should be taken seriously since it has been advocated by some of the most
distinguished scholars, there are very serious problems with it.
One major difficulty pertains to the portrayal of the offering. Luke only mentions an offering by
Paul to the church in Jerusalem in Acts 11:27-30, and he explains that it was an offering from
the church of Antioch to the church of Jerusalem to provide relief to the Christians in Jerusalem
suffering from a famine. However, It is very clear from Paul’s epistles that he engaged in a
specific major fund-raising venture among his Gentile churches to collect money to be used to
support the poor in the church in Jerusalem, and that he brought this offering with him on his
final visit to Jerusalem. Moreover, from Paul’s perspective, this offering was being collected
as a peace offering to bring healing between the churches of Paul’s apostolic mission to the
Gentiles and the Jewish Christian churches of Judea centered around the church in Jerusalem.
Moreover, it is probable that Galatians 2:10 refers not to a continuation of an offering Paul
was already making, but to an offering newly requested of him by the apostles in Jerusalem, a
request Paul says he was eager to accept. In other words, the offering of the church of Antioch
mentioned in Acts 11:27-30 is not the same thing as the offering mentioned in Galatians 2:10.
In fact, Luke does not even ever mention that the real purpose of Paul’s final visit to Jerusalem
was to present this large offering he had worked so hard to collect from the Gentile churches.
It is true that in Acts 24:17 Paul says that he had come to Jerusalem “to bring alms to my
nation and to make sacrifices,” but the meaning is that Paul had come to Jerusalem to present
a personal offering to the Temple treasury and to make sacrifices at the Temple. Upon close
examination, the meeting of Galatians 2 cannot be equated with the visit of Acts 11 on the
grounds of a mention of an offering in Acts 11.
The other major problem with equating the visit of Acts 11 with the meeting of Galatians 2 is that
this proposal requires that Paul wrote the letter to the Galatians before the council described in
Acts 15. This would seem to fit with Luke’s portrayal of the so-called three “missionary journeys”
of Paul. According to Acts, Paul had conducted missionary activity in southern Galatia in his
first missionary journey before the council of Jerusalem. However, the question is whether
there was an interference by the “Judaizers” during the period of Paul’s career before Paul
had conducted missionary activity in Macedonia and Achaia. According to Acts, Paul’s first
missions to Macedonia and Achaia occurred after the council. Acts never mentions any of
Paul’s letters and so it does not indicate when Paul wrote any of his letters to the churches. Yet
the evidence in the letters indicates that the “Judaizers” appeared only toward the end of Paul’s
career when he was active in Macedonia and Achaia. The only letters in which Paul mentions
the problem of the so-called “Judaizers” are Galatians, Philippians, and Romans. It is a common
agreement that Philippians and Romans are among the last letters Paul wrote (regardless of
scholarly opinions about the exact locations from which he wrote them or exactly what year(s)
he wrote them). Since Galatians has the same opponents in view as the letters of Philippians
and Romans, it is likely that Galatians was written at a time close to the time when Paul wrote
Philippians and Romans. These “Judaizers” are not in view in the Corinthians correspondence,
and therefore 1 Corinthians and 2 Corinthians were written before Galatians, Philippians, and
Romans. The “Judaizers” eventually arrived in Corinth, for Paul wrote Romans from Corinth,
but this indicates that they arrived after Paul had already written 1 Corinthians from Ephesus
and 2 Corinthians from Macedonia. Besides, we know that the letters to the Corinthians were
written before Romans on the basis of the information in all these letters about the progress
of the offering Paul was collecting from the churches. It should be remembered that Paul was
not reacting in these letters to general teaching, but to specific opponents–individuals who had
come from Judea to infiltrate Paul’s churches in a vigorous effort to denigrate Paul’s authority
and to require that Gentile Christians practice circumcision and submit to the law of Moses.
Therefore, it is not really plausible that Paul wrote Galatians before the council of Acts 15 since,
according to Acts, Paul had not even founded the churches in Macedonia (the location of the
church in Philippi to whom Paul wrote Philippians) or in Achaia (from where he wrote Romans in
Corinth). It is more plausible that Paul wrote Galatians after the council in Jerusalem which had
confirmed that Gentiles would not be required to be circumcised and that Paul was confirmed
as the apostle to the Gentiles and that it was written in response to the infiltration of “Judaizers”
near the latter phases of Paul’s missionary activity. In other words, those who advocate for the
accuracy of Luke’s portrayal of Paul’s missionary journeys in Acts and also claim that Paul must
have written Galatians before the council of Acts 15 do not present a credible picture of the
events which are described in the letters of Paul.
Moreover, there is such a similarity between Galatians 2 and Acts 15 that it strains credulity to
think that these two accounts are not about the same event.
Despite the pedigree of the scholars who have advocated that Galatians 2 should be equated
with Acts 11 (including the commentary on Acts in The New Interpreter’s Bible), this proposal
does not stand up to scrutiny, and it really represents special pleading for the chronology of
Acts. This proposal is not a solution of the conundrum, but an evasion of it.
Another solution to the conundrum is a proposal that Paul agreed to the decree of the council
of Jerusalem in Acts 15 regarding dietary rules for Gentile Christians, but he did not mention
it in Galatians 2. The assumption is that the decree regarding dietary rules was limited to the
church in Antioch, the other churches in Syria, and in Cilicia, but the decree was not intended
for the whole church or the whole Gentile mission. It is clear in Acts 15 that a letter was sent to
churches only in these regions. It could be argued that Paul would agree to these rules for the
church in Antioch and the regions in which it was active since he was a delegate of the church
of Antioch and wanted to preserve peace in the church. It would also have to be assumed that
Paul did not feel bound by this decree in his own missionary work in Macedonia, Achaia, and
Asia. If the incident of Galatians 2:11-14 is understood as having occurred after the council,
one might even argue that Paul considered the agreement of the council moot after Peter and
Barnabas withdrew from table fellowship (and the Lord’s Supper) with Gentile Christians at
Antioch. That is, subsequent breach of table fellowship by Peter based on a communication
from James in Jerusalem in effect violated the agreement that had been reached at the council.
Thus Paul could ignore the decree concerning dietary rules not only because its application
was limited to areas with ethnically mixed churches where Paul was no longer active, but also
because he may have considered the decree moot after the behavior of Peter and Barnabas at
Antioch following the council.
However, there are serious problems with this second proposal also. It is a fact that Paul never
mentions the decree about dietary rules in any of his epistles. There is not even a hint of it. The
most plausible explanation is that he knew nothing about it. Surely he would have mentioned
it since he discusses the issue of eating food that had been sacrificed to idols in 1 Corinthians
and Romans, but it is clear in those letters that Paul’s instructions to his churches were quite
distinct from that given by the council of Jerusalem. Would Paul really have ever agreed to the
decrees of the council, but if he did, would he really have felt free to ignore the council as he
conducted missionary activity beyond Syria and Cilicia? If Paul had agreed to the decree only
for the sake of peace between Antioch and Jerusalem, wouldn’t he have felt that he should
also honor the decree in the mainly Gentile churches he himself had founded in Macedonia and
Achaia? Moreover, while Paul mentions the incident of Galatians 2:11-14 after his discussion
of the conference in Jerusalem, it is probable that he was actually talking about an incident that
had occurred before the conference was held, and therefore the notion that Paul considered
the decree of the council moot as a result of this incident with Peter withdrawing from table
fellowship at Antioch is not very credible. Besides, there is no indication at all in Paul’s letters
that the conference he describes in Galatians 2 was anything other than successful. Of course,
Paul continued to have great anxiety about his relation to the church in Jerusalem, which is
why he put so much value on the difficult enterprise of raising money for the poor in Jerusalem
as a peace offering, but his offering was intended to seal a unity which had already been won
during the conference described in Galatians 2. (Because, in his letters, Paul presumes the
success of his conference with the Jerusalem apostles, the incident in Galatians 2:11-14 must
have occurred before the conference even though Paul mentions it after he has described the
conference. If the incident in Galatians 2:11-14 occurred after the council, Paul would have
considered his relationship with the church in Jerusalem to be broken and the whole church
divided. However, this was not the case at all.)
A third proposal made by Floyd Filson is a subtle but important variation of the second proposal.
Filson thinks that visits of Paul took place as Acts reports, but that, in Galatians, Paul did not
mention the visit of Acts 11:27-30 since the issue of the place of Gentiles in the church did
not arise during that visit. So then, Galatians 2 refers to same meeting as Acts 15. During
this meeting at Jerusalem, Paul agreed to the decree concerning dietary rules because it
was essentially the same kind of arrangement which he had led Gentile Christians to accept
from the beginning. Paul won the main victory at the council that Gentiles would not have to
be circumcised and keep the Mosaic law. But Paul could accept the other rules about diet
and say that the leaders in Jerusalem “added nothing to me” because he had always taught
Gentiles to practice “kosher” rules in their fellowship with Jewish Christians in order to maintain
peace in the church. Filson asks, “Did the Gentile Christians at once begin to eat pork and
other food revolting to Jews? Certainly not. Without thinking that any deep issue was involved,
the ethnically mixed church no doubt continued familiar Jewish practices as to food and daily
life, not with the idea that they were accepting the law and admitting that they must obey it to
be saved, but simply because it was common Jewish practice and also because it served to
separate the Gentile believers from surrounding paganism.” To explain why Paul never makes
any reference to the agreement reached at Jerusalem in his letters, Filson assumes that when
the “circumcision party” agitated in his churches for the keeping of the law by Gentile Christians
and “perhaps made a legalistic use of the Jerusalem agreement,” Paul made no further use of it.
Anyway, the agreement was directed to a limited region that was not his real mission field.
There is much that is attractive in this third proposal. Filson’s claim that the churches with
both Gentiles and Jews surely practiced “kosher” rules as a matter of course in order to have
table fellowship with one another is astute, and it surely applies to the church in Antioch
and its surrounding region where there were both many Jewish members as well as Gentile
members. On this basis it is conceivable that Paul could have agreed to the dietary rules as
a delegate from the Antioch church, especially since Filson also claims that the decree was
not an imposition of a law but a wise and necessary counsel. Furthermore, it would seem to
remove a disagreement between Luke and Paul regarding the number of visits Paul had made
to Jerusalem by the time the council was held.
As attractive as it is, there are still significant problems with Filson’s interpretation. It does
not quite adequately account for the brute fact that Paul never mentions the decree about
dietary practices in any of his letters. More importantly, it glosses over the fact that Paul says
that he visited Jerusalem for the council “after fourteen years”–which most scholars interpret
as meaning fourteen years since his first visit to Jerusalem, which had occurred three years
following his calling from the risen Lord. The tenor of Paul’s discussion of his visits indicates
that Paul means to say that he had made only two visits to Jerusalem. Yet, even if one allows
for the possibility that Paul had made another visit between these two visits, as Acts 11 reports,
and that Paul does not mention this extra visit only because it was not germane to the issue
of the place of the Gentiles in the church, frankly the “first missionary journey” reported in
Acts between Acts 11 and Acts 15 surely did not occupy fourteen years! His fourteen years
comprises the larger part of Paul’s career before his final visit to Jerusalem, and there is every
reason to assume that Paul spent this fourteen years conducting his mission all over the eastern
Roman Empire, including Macedonia and Achaia, when he founded the churches in Philippi,
Thessalonica, Athens, and Corinth. And if Paul’s experience with his Gentile mission was
already so deep and lengthy, it is difficult to imagine that he would have gone along with the
dietary rules even if they represented pastoral counsel rather than law. How could Paul in good
faith go along with the dietary rules knowing that he would need to explain them to, say, the
church in Corinth? Besides, the rationale given by James for the dietary rules are grounded
in the Torah, for James justifies the rules on the grounds that “Moses…has been read aloud
every sabbath in the synagogues” in every place. Perhaps, as a seasoned missionary to the
Gentiles, Paul could have gone along with the dietary rules to keep peace as long as the rules
were limited to Syria and Cilicia as a local agreement between the churches in Antioch and
Jerusalem, but it strains credulity to think that this was the case. If the rules were presented by
James on the grounds that the Torah is the basis of the life of the church, it is very, very hard to
imagine Paul agreeing with the rules as a matter of theological principle even if Paul considered
the rules as merely a local agreement between Jerusalem and Antioch that did not affect most
of his own mission.
A fourth proposal for a solution to the conundrum has been advanced by Joseph Fitzmyer and
others. It is that Luke conflated two events in his description of the council in Acts 15. In other
words, Luke combined the report about the council, which dealt only with the issue of whether
Gentile Christians should be required to obey the whole law of Moses, with a report about a
decree that the church of Jerusalem issued for the churches in Syria and Antioch. Is there any
evidence that Luke may have conflated two events in his account of the council in Acts 15?
There are two texts in Acts which provide significant evidence that Luke conflated the record of
a decision by a council held at the church in Jerusalem, which confirmed that Gentile Christians
did not have to submit to circumcision and adhere to the whole law of Moses, and the record
of a later decree by the church in Jerusalem to the churches under its influence that Gentile
Christians, while not required to observe the whole law of Moses, should practice the dietary
rules of the law as well as reject pagan idolatry and sexual practices.
One text is Acts 21:25. Acts 21:25 is a verse that occurs within the narrative of Paul’s meeting
with James and the other leaders of the church in Jerusalem after Paul arrives in Jerusalem in
his final visit to city. Acts 21:25 is a statement from the leaders (from the leaders under the
authority of James, the brother of the Lord). After expressing concern about how Paul will be
treated by the Jewish Christians who oppose Paul (21:20-21) and requesting that Paul join four
men who are taking a Nazirite vow in the Temple (21:22-24), the leaders say, “But as for the
Gentiles who have become believers, we have sent a letter with our judgment that they should
abstain from what has been sacrificed to idols and from blood and from what is strangled and
from fornication” (21:25). It is odd that the leaders inform Paul of a letter sent to Gentile
Christians which contained information about a decree of the church of Jerusalem which is
exactly the same as the letter described in Acts 15:23-29–a letter which had been sent by the
earlier council of Jerusalem. The clear impression in Acts 21 is that the leaders are informing
Paul for the first time about a decision they had made about what the Jerusalem church should
say to the Gentile Christians, and that this letter was sent to the Gentile Christians in the
churches under the influence of the church in Jerusalem. Surely this is the same letter sent to
the churches in Antioch, Syria, and Cilicia which is described in Acts 15:23-29. Acts 21:25 is a
strong clue that the decree of the church of Jerusalem, along with the letter which was sent,
was an action of the church of Jerusalem under James’ leadership that was done by that
church’s own initiative while Paul was away in Macedonia, Achaia, and Asia, and that Paul did
not know about it until he arrived in Jerusalem for the final time. Moreover, it appears that Paul
is being informed only of what the church in Jerusalem had decreed for the churches under its
influence, principally the church in Antioch with whom it had a close relationship and the
churches which had been established in Syria and Cilicia through the Gentile mission of the
church in Antioch. Paul is being informed of the way the church in Jerusalem is dealing with its
own very difficult problem of having in its membership many Christian Pharisees who are
insisting that Gentile Christians be required to obey the law of Moses and having responsibility
for churches within its sphere of influence whose membership consisted of both Jews and
Gentiles (unlike the predominantly Gentile churches which Paul founded in Macedonia and
Achaia). In effect, Paul is being told by James, “We have maintained our integrity with you by
not requiring the Gentiles to be circumcised, as we had agreed at our council earlier, but we
have asked that the Gentiles in our local churches to observe the dietary rules as well as, of
course, the moral commandments which the law prescribes for aliens who reside among
Israelites. By doing so, we are making it possible for Jews and Christians in these churches to
have table fellowship and the Lord’s Supper with one another (since the food will be ‘kosher”),
and we are hoping that this counsel will satisfy the members of our own church who are under
pressure from the converted Pharisees among us and also maintain peace in our ethnically
mixed churches.”
The other text is the letter described in Acts 15:23-29. It may be assumed that Luke copied this
letter from the archives of the church in Jerusalem and that it is not Luke’s own composition.
The letter says, “The brothers, both the apostles and the elders, to the believers of Gentile origin
in Antioch and Syria and Cilicia, greetings. Since we have heard that certain persons who have
gone out from us, though with no instructions from us, have said things to disturb you and have
unsettled your minds, we have decided unanimously to choose representatives [‘men’] and
send them to you, along with our beloved Barnabas and Paul, who have risked their lives for the
sake of our Lord Jesus Christ. We have therefore sent Judas and Silas, who themselves will tell
you the same things by word of mouth. For it has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us to
impose on you no further burden than these essentials: that you abstain from what has been
sacrificed to idols and from blood and from what is strangled and from fornication. If you keep
yourselves from these, you will do well. Farewell.”
The reader of Acts has an impression that the “men” being sent by the church in Jerusalem to
deliver the letter include Barnabas and Paul. Indeed, in Luke’s own introduction to the text of the
letter, Luke makes it clear that Barnabas and Paul would be among those who are sent to
deliver the letter and to explain its contents. In Acts 15:22-23 a, Luke writes, “Then the apostles
and the elders, with the consent of the whole church, decided to choose men from among their
members and to send them to Antioch with Paul and Barnabas. They sent Judas called
Barsabbas, and Silas, leaders among the brothers, with the following letter….” However, it is
very clear in the text of the letter itself that the representatives of the church of Jerusalem are
actually only Judas and Silas. On close inspection of the text of the letter, one would not
assume that Paul and Barnabas are the representatives being sent to the Gentiles from the
Jerusalem church. Fitzmyer notes that, in the letter itself, the prepositional phrase, “along with”
(syn) can modify “you” so that Barnabas and Paul are listed as formal recipients of the letter
along with the Gentiles to whom it is written. It is only when the letter is read in the context of
the council described in Acts 15 and following Luke’s own introduction to the letter in Acts 15:22-
23a that readers of Acts assume that the mention of Paul in the letter means that Paul is a
representative of the council who is delivering the letter to the Gentiles in the churches of
Antioch, the rest of Syria, and Cilicia. However, the text of the letter itself shows that Barnabas
and Paul were not the senders of the letter, but they were recipients of the letter being sent to
Gentiles since they are the leading apostles to the Gentiles known and respected by the
churches in the region. Acts 15:25-26 should be understood as meaning “we have decided
unanimously to choose representatives [“men”] and send them to you and also to our beloved
Barnabas and Paul, who have risked their lives for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ.” In other
words, Barnabas and Paul are being notified of the decree of the church of Jerusalem by letter
and personally, if possible, because of their prominent role as the apostles who had
evangelized the Gentiles in the regions of Syria and Cilicia. One would have to assume that
Paul never received his copy of the letter because he was working and traveling across a wide
area that ranged from Asia to Achaia at the time it was written.
The idea that this letter was sent at a time later than the council also fits the information derived
from Paul’s letters to the churches in Galatia, Philippi, and Rome. In other words, the letter from
the church in Jerusalem was written to the Gentiles in the churches under the influence of the
mother church in Jerusalem at the time when the “Judaizers” were also actively interfering with
Paul’s mission in Galatia, Macedonia, and Achaia (and threatening to also penetrate the church
in Rome).
Why would Luke conflate two events when he narrates the story of the council of Jerusalem in
Acts 15?
One possibility that should be taken seriously is that Luke conflated the decision of the earlier
council that Christian Gentile males did not have to be circumcised with a later decree by the
church of Jerusalem that certain essentials would be expected of Gentile Christians in the
churches under its authority when Luke was conducting his research in Jerusalem. Luke found
the letter requiring that the Gentiles should observe certain essential rules in the archives of
the church of Jerusalem. He assumed that this letter was an action of the council rather than
a separate later action of the church of Jerusalem. On that assumption, he interpreted the
grammar of a sentence in the letter that contained the prepositional phrase syn as meaning
that Barnabas and Paul were among the deliverers of the letter rather than its recipients, and
so he constructed an introduction of the letter to convey that meaning. In other words, Luke
understood the grammar according to the context of the presumed occasion of the letter rather
than according to the context of the text of the letter itself. However, the right interpretation of
the grammar is that syn modifies “you” rather than “send” so that the meaning is that the letter
is being sent to “you,” i.e. “the believers of Gentile origin,” and also to Barnabas and Paul, the
apostles to the Gentiles known to them and revered for the sacrifices they had made on the
Gentiles’ behalf. If this is what happened, then the conflation of two events might have been
triggered by Luke’s discovery of the letter in the archives of the church of Jerusalem on the
assumption that this letter was a part of the action of the council. If this occurred, then one must
assume that Luke’s memory of the communication of James and the other leaders to Paul upon
his arrival in Jerusalem in Acts 21:25 is a report of what was indeed said at the time, but that his
later discovery of the letter in the archives led him to conclude that the letter had been part of
the deliberations of the council. The assumption here is that Luke was present with Paul when
he arrived in Jerusalem for his final visit based on the fact that the “we” sections of Acts indicate
Luke’s presence with Paul on his journey to Jerusalem. This is not an implausible scenario, for
it is quite understandable that someone writing a history of the early church for the first time
is faced with the difficult task of constructing an account which is based on information from a
variety of sources–the memories of others, artifacts from archives, and also his own memory of
events in which he was personally involved.
Moreover, the conflation of two events fits Luke’s own purposes in writing Acts. Luke is telling
a grand story, and the narration of the council occurs right in the middle of Acts as the turning
point in the grand story. Acts 15 is the point when the narrative of Acts shifts from the story of
the church in Jerusalem and the church in Antioch to the story of Paul’s own mission to the
Gentiles in the farthest reaches of the eastern Roman Empire–thus fitting the scheme of the
story of the church proclaiming the gospel from Jerusalem and all Judea and Samaria to the
ends of the earth. Even if Luke had not conflated the events as a result of his discovery of the
letter in the archives and his judgment that it ought to be ascribed to the actions of the council,
it would have made sense for Luke to bring in the later decree of the church of Jerusalem at
this point in the narrative since this would be an apropos and economical way of including
information about all of the actions of the Jerusalem church pertaining to the issue of Gentile
Christians.
If the proposal that Luke conflated two events in his narration in Acts 15 is correct, then the
conundrum is basically solved. At least, once Luke’s narrative about the council is adjusted to
take into account his conflation of the council with a later decree by the church in Jerusalem,
both Paul’s account and Luke’s account of what occurred during the council would be
consistent. The only disagreement between the two accounts that would remain would be
the matter of how many visits Paul made to Jerusalem. Luke says five, but Paul says only
three. However, in this case, Paul’s account should be preferred over Luke’s since Paul knows
how many visits he made (based on what Paul says both in Galatians 1:18, 2:1 and also in 1
Corinthians 16:1-4 and Romans 15:25). This is a problem only for those who do not want to
admit that Luke may be in error about the number of visits Paul made. But those who realize
that Luke is not writing a history of Paul’s career but telling a bigger, simpler story of the
church’s life and mission take into account both that Luke was not exactly sure how often Paul
visited Jerusalem (he knew only that he had visited several times) and that it suited Luke’s
narrative to show Paul returning to Jerusalem after each of his “missionary journeys” since Luke
wants to emphasize that Jerusalem is the center of the church and that its mission expanded
in discrete phases from Jerusalem to Antioch and then to the farthest reaches of the eastern
Roman Empire and finally to Rome itself. It is more plausible to assume that Luke, writing years
after the events, had uncertain knowledge of the movements of Paul which occurred a long
time prior to Luke’s association with Paul rather than Paul himself was inaccurate about his own
movements when he was writing to the church in Galatia. The idea that Luke wrote Acts after
Paul’s death rather than while they were together in Rome is disputed, but most scholars think
that Luke indicates in his Gospel that he was writing after the fall of Jerusalem in A.D. 70 (based
on the way he describes the woes of Jerusalem in Luke 21:20 ff. in comparison with Mark 13:14
ff.).
I think the proposal that Luke conflated two different actions by the church of Jerusalem when
he narrated the story of the council of Jerusalem in Acts 15 is the right way to understand how
Paul’s account in Galatians is similar yet different from Acts 15. It makes the most sense of
all the evidence we have, and it alone takes into account the textual evidence of Acts in the
letter and the communication of the leaders of the Jerusalem church to Paul at the time of his
arrival in the city. I may be mistaken, but I think this proposal is far superior to the other major
interpretations on offer.
However one attempts to solve the conundrum of the different accounts of the historical meeting
reported in Acts and Galatians, the different theological positions regarding the law of Moses
among the early Christians are clear. All Christians knew that Jesus of Nazareth had been an
observant Jew who announced the coming of the kingdom of God and whose death had been
the means by which God had instituted a new covenant in the history of God’s relationship with
God’s people. All Christians accepted that God’s people now includes Gentiles as well as Jews.
The differences among Christians pertained to their understanding of the role of the Torah
in the life of the new people of God, the church. Was the covenant instituted by God through
Jesus Christ a renewed covenant that revivified the older covenants on the grounds of the
forgiveness of sins through the death of the Messiah and the power to live as God’s people by
the resurrection of the Messiah and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, but that the relationship of
the people of God to God is still ordered according to the law of Moses in the Torah; or, was it
an entirely new covenant that fulfilled and superseded the covenant God had made with Moses
so that the relationship of the people of God to God is based only on the obedience of faith in
Jesus the Messiah rather than according to obedience to the law of Moses in the Torah? While
the covenant now established through Jesus the Messiah was called “new,” the meaning of its
newness was understood differently in two primary senses.
Some Jewish Christians thought that the Torah is still the basis of the people of God who
confess Jesus as the Messiah of Israel and the Lord of the world, and they thought that both
Gentiles and Jews should be obedient to the law of Moses as if the Gentile members of God’s
people were now Jews.
James, the eventual leader of the Jewish Christians in Jerusalem, taught that the Torah is still
the basis of the church and that the church should include Gentiles the same way ancient Israel
included “residents who live among the Israelites,” namely, that they should not be required to
obey the Torah as Jews, but they should obey the Torah as Gentiles by forsaking idolatry and
sexual immorality and by observing the Jewish food laws in order that Jews and Gentiles may
have table fellowship with one another.
Paul’s teaching was more complex and radical. He viewed the Torah as the witness to God’s
revelation. However, he interpreted the Torah as teaching that God’s promise to Abraham to
be the father of many nations, i.e. Gentiles, was fulfilled in the death and resurrection of Jesus
the Messiah. As a result, in Paul’s view, the law of Moses given to Israel later in time after the
promise made to Abraham, has now been superseded for the church. However, this does not
mean that the church is without any law; its law is “the law of Christ,” which is fulfilled through
faith by the power of the Holy Spirit. This “law of Christ” is defined by the teaching of Jesus,
the Lord, and by his example. In a deeper sense, this “law of Christ” is the response of faith to
the righteousness of God that has been revealed in the death and resurrection of Jesus the
Messiah. Paul was in full agreement with all other Christians that the teaching of the Torah
regarding idolatry and sexual morality has not been abrogated by the new covenant instituted
through Jesus Christ because it is the revelation of God’s will grounded in creation as taught
by Jesus himself. Yet Paul did not agree with James that the dietary laws of Jews should be
imposed on Gentile Christians since Paul thought that the basis of the church’s life is not the
law of Moses in the Torah (which has been superseded for Christians), but the salvation of God
accomplished through Jesus Christ. Paul was not opposed to Jewish Christians continuing
to keep the law of Moses, but he viewed this as more a matter of custom than a theological
imperative.
Peter seems to have been a mediator among all the parties who was respected by all. Peter
was basically on Paul’s side, but he appreciated the wisdom of James’ position as the leader of
the Jewish Christians in Jerusalem. Peter was more sensitive than Paul regarding the political
challenges faced by James in Jerusalem. This is evident by Peter’s behavior in the incident at
Antioch reported by Paul in Galatians 2:11-14. Paul publicly denounced Peter for withdrawing
from table fellowship with the Gentiles in Antioch as a violation of the integrity of the gospel.
Paul claimed that Peter and “even Barnabas” were “led astray” into “hypocrisy” when “certain
people came from James” to the church at Antioch. While Paul was correct in principle, we are
not told Peter’s point of view in Galatians. It is probable that Peter himself did not think he was
being hypocritical, but that he was only being prudent at the moment. Apparently, James had
sent a communication from Jerusalem which expressed concern about Jews being in table
fellowship with Gentiles because James was afraid of the explosion in the whole church that
would occur as a result of the passions of the Torah observant Christian Jews at Jerusalem.
James wished to bring a halt to the table fellowship among Gentiles and Jews at Antioch until
he and the other leaders of the church in Jerusalem could settle things down. Peter, being
acutely aware of the issues in Jerusalem, knew this was an explosive situation at present and
temporarily withdrew from table fellowship until the crisis could be resolved. Galatians 2:11-14
is the most important text for illumining the raw tensions in the early church in the A.D. 40’s, but,
if one reads between the lines and takes into account the concerns of all parties rather than just
Paul’s convictions, one may perceive how Peter was in the most difficult position of anyone in
trying to affirm Paul’s mission to the Gentiles while also supporting James’ delicate handling of
his problems with the Jewish Christians in Jerusalem. (These same tensions at Jerusalem are
also evident in Acts 21:20-21.)
Selected Sources:
F.F. Bruce, Commentary on the Book of Acts (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing
Co., 1971).
Richard J. Dillon and Joseph A. Fitzmyer, “Acts of the Apostles,” The Jerome Biblical
Commentary (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1968).
Floyd V. Filson, A New Testament History (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1964).
Bruce M. Metzger, The New Testament: Its Background, Growth, & Content (Nashville:
Abingdon Press, 2003).

Jesus, Law and Love

Today it is not unusual for North American Christians to assume that Jesus was all about love rather than law and to assume that love is a matter of feelings. Since Christian doctrine is based
on the story of Jesus’ life as well as on the apostles’ proclamation of his death and resurrection,
such notions about Jesus’ teaching can contribute to an antinomian attitude toward the Christian
life, that is, a view that the law of God has little to do with Christian living.
One of the most important books written about the “historical Jesus” (the portrait of Jesus which
is based on scientific historical research) is John P. Meier’s A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the
Historical Jesus, Volume Four, Law and Love (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009). This
book fills a gap that is often missing in many commentaries, namely, a direct discussion of
Jesus’ teaching on the law in the Torah, the first five books of the Old Testament.
Meier demonstrates that Jesus was engaged in halaka, the practice of making legal rulings on
how to interpret the law in the Torah regarding how people should behave. Meier’s mantra is,
“The historical Jesus is the halakic Jesus.” Jesus was not a teacher of general moral principles,
but he was a Jew who claimed authority as the prophet of the kingdom of God to make rulings
about how to interpret the law in the Torah. In his rulings on how to observe the Sabbath, he
contested the strict rulings of the Essenes and some of those of the Pharisees and confirmed
the commonsense approach of the peasants, who believed that it was necessary to take actions
to care for their animals on the Sabbath and to rescue human beings who had accidents on the
Sabbath which endangered their lives, such as falling into a cistern.
There are two instances in which Jesus issued pronouncements which abrogated the law.
Jesus forbade divorce, which the law permitted, and he forbade the use of oaths, which the
law required in certain judicial cases. His prohibition of divorce was grounded in God’s will in
creation that “God made them male and female,” and “For this reason a man shall leave his
father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh” (Genesis 1:27
and 2:24; Mark 10:2-9). His prohibition of oaths was apparently for the sake of protecting the
sacred name of God from being used by people to attest to the truthfulness of their testimony
(Matthew 5:33-37). Even though Jesus claimed authority as the prophet of the kingdom of
God to issue pronouncements which went beyond the law, this does not mean that he was
opposed to the law but only that he was engaged in the Jewish debate about how the law
given to ancient Israel should be appropriated. Other Jews in Palestine were giving their own
interpretations, and some of them actually rewrote provisions of the law without implying that
their rewriting was a lack of reverence for the law as the will of God.
Meier thinks that the closest Jesus ever came to articulating a general principle for interpreting
the law was in his teaching (Mark 12:28-34) that the first commandment is to love God
(Deuteronomy 6:4-5) and the second commandment is to love one’s neighbor (Leviticus
19:18b). Meier thinks the idea that on these two commandments “hang all the law and the
prophets” (Matthew 22:40) is Matthew’s interpretation. Jesus himself only emphasized that there
is a first and a second commandment in the law. Jesus is the first person to ever link these two
commandments in the law together. Jesus did not merely allude to these two commandments
(the great Shema in Deuteronomy and another commandment buried in a series of laws in
Leviticus), but he literally quoted them and named them first and second. In doing so, Jesus
indicated that he was a student of the Hebrew Scriptures and that he was proficient in a
technique of exegesis whereby a rabbi was allowed to bring together two different texts for
mutual interpretation if both contained the same key word or phrase. The meaning of the key
word “love” in these two commandments of the law is not that of “strong emotions,” but of
“willing and then doing” so that love of God is primarily obedience to the one, true God and
love of neighbor is the commitment to will and do good toward a fellow Israelite even if one
feels some personal enmity toward him. In this teaching, Jesus is not making the rest of the law
superfluous, for if there is a “first” commandment and a “second” commandment, then there is
also a “third” commandment and so on.
Meier observes that “love” as a noun or a verb “occurs relatively rarely on the lips of Jesus,”
and when it does occur Jesus is often citing a text from the Scriptures or commenting on it.
The notable exception is Jesus’ command, “Love your enemies” (Matthew 5:44b; Luke 6:27b),
which is not an interpretation of the Scriptures but a unique pronouncement of the prophet of the
kingdom of God.
Meier does not think that Jesus made love “the hermeneutical key for interpreting the whole Law
or the supreme principle from which all other commandments can be deduced or by which they
can be judged.” Yet what Jesus said about love is “startling and innovative enough.” In the end,
Jesus’ reflection on the Torah as a whole “led to love–specifically to love of God and love of
neighbor as supreme. All you need is love? Hardly. For Jesus, you need the Torah as a whole.
Nothing could be more foreign to this Palestinian Jew than a facile antithesis between Law and
love. But love, as commanded by the Law, comes first and second.”
In Meier’s judgment, a portrait of a Jesus “who is not involved in the lively halakic debates of
his fellow Jews in 1st-century Palestine, who does not reason about the Law in typically Jewish
fashion, and who does not display his charismatic authority as the eschatological prophet by
issuing some startling legal pronouncements, is not the historical Jesus. He is instead a modern
and largely American construct, favored by some Christians because he is appealing to the
marketplace of popular religion in the United States today–a religion that is highly emotional,
mostly self-centered, predictably uninterested in stringent commandments, and woefully
ignorant of history.”
This “modern and largely American construct” of Jesus is not uncommon in our discourse in the
United Methodist Church today, including our conversation about God’s will concerning human
sexuality. Too often Jesus is portrayed as an idealist or a teacher of a kind of love which is
divorced from the law and whose name is evoked to support an antinomian agenda. It is ironic
that this occurs in a church which derives from John Wesley. If there is one thing certain about
Wesley’s theology, it is that he integrated law and gospel. His three sermons on the moral law
of God in his standard sermons clearly demonstrate Wesley’s conviction that the gospel did
not annul the law, but it “established” the law “through faith” for those who have been justified
by God’s grace through Jesus Christ and who are going on towards “perfection in love” by the
energy of the Holy Spirit.

Jesus and Purity Laws

In Volume 4 of A Marginal Jew, John P. Meier addresses Jesus’ attitude and actions pertaining
to purity laws.
Meier thinks that it is facile to stick labels such as “ritual” or “moral” on the laws in the
Pentateuch pertaining to purity. Nevertheless, he acknowledges that there are four categories
of impurity which can be distinguished in ancient texts. 1) Ritual impurity. This is the kind of
impurity which results from the normal cycle of human life–birth, disease, sexual activity, and
death. This type was considered contagious and needed to be expunged by rituals of cleansing,
but it had nothing to do with moral evil. 2) Moral impurity. This type is used of serious sins such
as murder, sexual behavior (such as incest, homosexuality, and bestiality), and idolatry. Moral
impurity was viewed as a threat to the integrity of the land or the Temple (Tabernacle), but it
is not contagious. 3) Genealogical impurity. This became a new concern after the Exile when
intermarriage with non-Jews was prohibited in the Book of Ezra (outside of the Pentateuch).
4) Impurity as a result of violating food laws. This is “the odd man out” in the previous three
types. The food laws are different from those pertaining to ritual impurity in that there are no
regulations about when or how one might eat pork, etc.; instead such eating is absolutely
prohibited. This would seem to put them in the category of moral impurity, yet it is never said
that eating forbidden food defiles the Temple (Tabernacle), and there is no precise punishment
for such a transgression. So this type stands between ritual and moral impurity. Meier briefly
surveys sociological theories which attempt to explain the food laws, but he does not take
a position on them. Meier simply acknowledges that the food laws represent a kind of “gut
religion” in more senses than one! They were a defining boundary marker and way of life for
Jews.
He notes that there was diversity regarding purity among Jews in the first century. Priests
practiced purity rules with stringency. Pharisees differed regarding food laws (such as whether
fowl and cheese could be eaten together or must be eaten separately) and yet apparently
remained tolerant of others’ views.
So then, in pursuing the quest of the historical Jesus according to a scientific methodology, the
question is, “What was Jesus’ position on purity?”
Most of the discussion by Meier is devoted to the longest pericope in the Gospels dealing with
this subject–Mark 7:1-23, a text which is notoriously controversial among exegetes. Mark 7:1-23
and its parallel in Matthew 15:1-20 are the two main texts which purport to present the teaching
of Jesus regarding purity laws. On the assumption that Matthew simply conflated Mark and
modified Mark’s text in accordance with Matthew’s own theological agenda, Meier devotes his
attention to an analysis of Mark 7:1-23. Meier analyzes this text with extraordinary rigor and
depth based upon voluminous research. I shall avoid going into his analysis (which would be
exhausting), but I shall present his conclusions.
He saves his discussion of Mark 7:1-5 until he has reached conclusions regarding the rest of the
pericope of Mark 7:1-23.
He first reaches a conclusion regarding Mark 7:6-8, which is Jesus’ statement to Pharisees
that they leave the commandments of God and hold fast the tradition of men based on a quote
from Isaiah 29:13. Meier contends that Jesus would not have made an argument based on
this text from Isaiah since it reflects use of the Greek translation in the Septuagint (LXX), which
changed the meaning of the Hebrew text. The main difference between the Hebrew text and the
LXX text is that the Hebrew text criticizes the people because “their worship of me is a human
commandment learned by rote” (NRSV) whereas the LXX criticizes the people because “in vain
do they reverence me, teaching the commandments of men and teachings.” In other words, the
LXX text provides the basis for Jesus’ criticism of the Pharisees’ teaching of their oral tradition,
“the tradition of the elders,” by which they “abandon the commandment of God and hold to
human tradition.” Moreover, Meier notices the similarity between Mark’s use of this text with
that of Colossians 2:20-23 where regulations regarding food are described as “simply human
commands and teachings”–an allusion to Isaiah 29:13 in the LXX. In other words, the early
Christian church or at least the Pauline tradition relied on the LXX of Isaiah 29:13 to construct
a polemic against food laws of Jews and/or syncretists in order to justify Christian liberty from a
life regulated by dietary rules. So then, the portrayal of Jesus’ argument in Mark 7:6-8 which is
based on the LXX of Isaiah 29:13 must be a Marcan construction.
Next he examines the statement on “corban” in Mark 7:9-13. He judges that this is a statement
of the historical Jesus which Mark included in his narrative, but that it is inserted into Mark
7:1-23 by Mark himself (or perhaps redactors of Mark). The word itself and the practice of
corban is attested in the writings of Josephus and therefore we have firm evidence that
the institution of corban existed in the first century. However, he does not think that Jesus’
statement about corban tells us very much because we do not have the original context. [Some
other commentators suggest that the original historical context may have been a particular
outrageous act by a son (who refused to give financial support to his elderly parents because
the money was designated as corban) which was the subject of much gossip in Palestine.]
Meier thinks that Jesus’ debating partners “might have been a group of Pharisees (not all
Pharisees) who took a very strict approach to the institution and who therefore refused any
annulment of the vow [of corban], no matter what the consequences….”
Then he examines Jesus’ aphorism on defilement and his explanation in Mark 7:14-23. The key
verse is the aphorism in Mark 7:15: “There is nothing outside a man that, by entering into him,
can defile him; but those things that come out of a man are the things that defile him.” (Matthew
15:11 says, “not what goes into the mouth defiles a man, but what comes out of the mouth,
this defiles a man”). Meier says there are arguments for and against the authenticity of this
saying in Mark. It strongly represents the style of Jesus with its two-part antithetical parallelism.
The possible historicity of this saying has enabled some exegetes to take a middle position
in their view of Mark 7:14-23, believing that Jesus’ original teaching is reflected here in this
saying in Mark 7:15, but that Mark has given it a more radical and sweeping interpretation by
the way he has shaped the entire narrative in Mark 7:1-23 and especially by his interpretative
aside in 7:19 (“Thus he declared all foods clean”). But Meier, setting aside Matthew 15:11 as
Matthew’s redaction of Mark rather than a version from a source independent of Mark and also
setting aside a similar statement in the Gospel of Thomas as probably dependent on Matthew,
argues that Mark 7:15 is inauthentic. It is interesting that one reason he rejects its historicity is
because he does think such a statement would mean what Mark says it means–a setting aside
all food laws–which is a notion Meier considers preposterous for a Jewish prophet or teacher.
(Curiously, Meier does not give any consideration to the possibility that this was a statement of
Jesus in which he was emphasizing that God’s will is that persons be “pure in heart” and does
not necessarily represent a rejection of all purity laws of Judaism, but Meier insists that it should
be viewed as meaning what Mark says it means, namely that Jesus declared all foods clean.)
On this basis, Meier goes on to argue that there would have never been such a fierce dispute
in the early church over food laws if Jesus had ever made a statement like that in Mark 7:15
or at least that someone would have cited the statement in support of their position in the
disputes in the early church. He does address Paul’s statement in Romans 14:14 which some
commentators think is an allusion to this statement of Jesus in Mark 7:15–”I know and am
persuaded in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself, but it is unclean for anyone who
thinks it unclean.” Meier argues that Paul is appealing to the meaning of Christ’s death and
resurrection rather than to a teaching of Jesus. (I do think Meier is right that Paul’s reference to
being persuaded “in the Lord Jesus” is not the usual way Paul alludes to a teaching of Jesus,
but the question would be whether or not Paul is giving an interpretation of a saying of the
historical Jesus based upon his understanding of the new covenant instituted through the death
and resurrection of Jesus the Messiah).
Meier’s view of Mark 7:17-23 (where Jesus speaks of the evils that come out a person) following
the aphorism introduced in 7:14-15 is that Mark 7:17-23 reflects not the historical Jesus’
teaching but a Marcan construction patterned after the “vice lists” in the letters of Paul and
elsewhere in the New Testament.
Finally, Meier goes back to Mark 7:1-5, the beginning of the pericope which pertains to a dispute
over handwashing. On the basis that the rest of the pericope, except for the corban saying,
is inauthentic, Meier concludes that 7:1-5 must also be understood to be Mark’s creation. He
bolsters his judgment by pointing out that “there is no clear evidence that any Palestinian or
Diaspora group of Jews in the pre-70 period taught that handwashing by laypeople before
eating meals was obligatory.”
On the basis of his deconstruction of the text of Mark 7:1-23, Meier says that this entire text
should be judged as a Marcan construction (except the corban saying) which was designed
to justify the attitude and practice of Christians in the church in Rome where Mark composed
his Gospel–namely, their freedom from Jewish food laws. Since he considers Matthew’s much
more succinct account in Matthew 15:1-20 (which lacks the asides to Gentiles found in Mark)
a mere conflation of Mark by Matthew, Meier insists that we have no other teaching in the
Gospels that directly pertains to purity laws.
Meier does go on to examine other possible references to ritual purity in the Gospels. Corpse
impurity is one case. The Gospels never raise the question of Jesus contracting corpse
impurity nor of his being purified from it according to the Law. Jesus is portrayed as touching
the daughter of Jairus in Mark 5:41, touching the bier of the son of the widow of Nain in Luke
7:14, and coming to the grave of Lazarus in John 11:38. The first two cases in Mark 5 and Luke
7 would definitely involve corpse impurity, but the Gospels never mention this fact. He does
notice that John 11:55 mentions that Jews went up to Jerusalem to purify themselves while
John 12:1 states that Jesus came to Bethany (near Jerusalem) “six days before Passover,”
perhaps suggesting that this might indicate that Jesus was participating in the seven day rituals
at the Temple for corpse purification–perhaps to be cleansed of impurity because of his contact
with Lazarus. But this is to deduce a great deal from two passing references not connected by
John.
The statements of Jesus in Matthew 23:27-28 and Luke 11:44 (which Meier judges to be from
independent sources) criticize the scribes and Pharisees as being like sepulchres. This may
mean that Jesus was attacking the Pharisees for the details of ritual purity regarding corpses
while at the same time having a morally defiling effect on their fellow Jews, but these sayings
really do not indicate Jesus’ position on the ritual impurity of graves.
Matthew 23:25-26 and Luke 11:39-41 appear to be from the same source, Q, and Meier
considers it to be an authentic statement of Jesus. Jesus criticizes the Pharisees for cleaning
the outside of the cup and plate but inside they themselves are unclean. In these sayings,
Meier believes that Jesus uses the issue of ritual purity on a metaphorical level to inculcate the
importance of moral purity, but that they tell us little about Jesus’ views of purity laws. [Take
note of Matthew 23:25-26 and Luke 11:39-41 because I will refer to them in my critique of Meier
following my presentation of his arguments.]
The story of the woman with a flow of blood in Mark 5:25-34 is not as relevant as it might
appear. The law of Moses does not state that a woman’s flow from the genital area
communicates impurity by that woman touching someone as this woman touches Jesus.
Anyway the issue of ritual impurity does not seem to be on the radar of the evangelist telling the
story.
Laws governing menstruating women in Leviticus 15:19-24 became very important after 70
A.D. since they could continue to be observed without a Temple. Meier thinks it is striking that
this form of impurity is never mentioned in the teaching of Jesus. It is striking because Jesus
traveled with both male and female disciples. The women disciples would be menstruating at
various times and would have exposed the males to impurity on a regular basis by being in
contact with them (although not sexually). Moreover, both Jesus and his disciples would have
had seminal emissions which caused considered ritual impurity in Leviticus 15:16-17. Yet there
is silence in the Gospels about these matters.
The stories of Jesus healing persons with skin diseases also do not give any indication of Jesus’
teaching on ritual purity. Mark 1:40-45 says Jesus touched a leper, but the Law in Leviticus
13-14 does not, strictly speaking, forbid a leper to touch a person or render someone unclean
who touches a leper. Later rabbinic law has these prohibitions, and Josephus has one oblique
indication that this may have been the rule in the first century. The Essene documents contain
no clear teaching on the subject. The fact that Jesus sent lepers to the priests for a bill of good
health does not indicate Jesus’ own stance on the Law since it was necessary for the lepers to
do this to return to society.
Meier’s conclusion is that “Jesus never made any programmatic pronouncements on issues like
handwashing before meals or the distinction between clean and unclean foods.” This silence
takes on weight when put in the context of other Jesus traditions. The “authentic Jesus tradition
is completely silent on the topic of ritual purity–sometimes in stark contrast to debates in the
early church.” This silence of Jesus stands out “like a sore theological thumb” in comparison to
his Jewish contemporaries and to the Christian Jews. The historical Jesus was not indifferent
to the Jewish Law in general, but it seems that ritual purity was “not only not a burning issue”
for Jesus, it was “not an issue at all” for him. Meier’s supposition for why this was so is that
Jesus was an eschatological prophet and miracle worker–”a religious charismatic.” A religious
charismatic by definition simply claims to know God’s will directly and intuitively–as indicated by
Jesus’ unique practice of prefacing solemn pronouncements with “Amen.” Apparently, Jesus’
“studied indifference to ritual impurity” can be explained on the basis that questions of ritual
impurity were not his concern as the charismatic prophet of the end time.
Now I wish to offer my own preliminary reflections on Meier’s views. However, at the outset I do
want to acknowledge the extensiveness and depth of Meier’s research. His footnotes occupy
as much space as his commentary. Moreover, I respect the scientific character of his work
because he is true to his objective and to his methodology as a historian.
I think his reflections following his critique of Mark 7:1-23 on all the other stories and sayings
of Jesus that could be considered relevant to Jesus’ attitude toward ritual impurity are very
illuminating and demonstrate the value of studying the work of a historian like Meier. The silence
of the Gospel traditions regarding the whole issue of ritual purity must have some significance,
and I think Meier’s argument that this silence indicates that Jesus was not very interested in
ritual purity because he was an eschatological prophet is the most plausible conclusion one can
reach, at least insofar as it pertains to issues of ritual purity such as corpse impurity and the like.
I would differ with Meier in his dismissal of Mark 7 and Matthew 15 as being irrelevant to Jesus’
attitude toward purity rules regarding washings and food laws on the grounds that they are
merely creations of the early church. If there is a historical basis for the texts, then we would
have to say that Mark 7 and Matthew 15 do indeed indicate something about Jesus’ own
teaching regarding purity laws and food laws.
One general point I would make about methodology in conducting exegesis of texts is that the
particular scientific methodology of the quest for the historical Jesus is a kind of straight-jacket.
It is rigorous, but I think it is too rigorous to be always followed in doing exegesis of the Gospels
because it is based on a hermeneutics of suspicion. That is, a historian presumes that any
given text is a creation by the early church unless some historical basis for it can be ascertained
from known documentary sources or other internal evidence in the Gospels. Such a rigorous
method often rejects a priori the possibility that a text may be grounded in a historical event
even when there is no extant extra-biblical historical documentation to support it or rejects the
possibility that the Gospels themselves may be considered a reliable source of history when
we have no other sources outside the Gospels to corroborate what they contain. For instance,
until the middle of the 20th century miracle stories in John were deemed pure creations of
the evangelist by critical scholars until archeological excavations demonstrated the precise
accuracy of the topography of scenes in the Gospel of John, thus causing a sea-change in the
way that historians like Meier view the historical reliability of the independent traditions in the
Fourth Gospel. Prior to these archeological discoveries, any exegesis that had been based on a
hermeneutics of trust had been criticized by historians as merely an exercise in “apologetics” or
a conservative effort to maintain a belief in the trustworthiness of the Gospel of John. Likewise,
Meier approaches Mark 7 and Matthew 15 with the presumption that they represent creations
of the early church and therefore he does not take into account the possibility that there may be
reasons for seriously considering that these texts represent a plausible historical memory.
A good example of what I mean is his discussion of Mark’s citation of Isaiah 29:13. Because
Meier contends that this citation is from the LXX, which changes the meaning of the authorized
Hebrew text, he says that this citation could have never been used by Jesus. He thinks Jesus
knew some Greek in order to do his business as a woodworker and may have been able to
converse with Pilate in Greek, but he does not believe that Jesus’ Greek was fluent enough
that he would have taught in Greek or that he would have used the LXX. Meier does think that
Jesus was literate in Hebrew. Thus the whole argument of Jesus against the human tradition
of the Pharisees based on a citation of Isaiah from the LXX presented by Mark is obviously a
Marcan creation. However, Meier knows that Hebrew texts of the Scriptures from Qumran are
different from the standard Hebrew texts, and they are very similar in meaning to the LXX; Meier
acknowledges this fact in A Marginal Jew when he discusses texts other than Mark 7. Since
we do not have a Qumran version of the particular text of Isaiah 29:13, Meier concludes that
the statement by Jesus in Mark must be an abbreviation of the text from the LXX. However, if
we know that there were alternative versions of the Hebrew Scriptures which are similar to the
LXX in use during Jesus’ time, then it seems to me that one cannot rule out the possibility that
Jesus may have been alluding to one of these versions and therefore might have been able
to present an argument against the human tradition of the Pharisees based on an allusion to
Isaiah 29:13. We don’t know, but it is not absurd or even implausible to consider this possibility.
See the comment by W.F. Albright and C.S. Mann in their commentary on the parallel text of
Matthew 15:8-9 in Matthew (Garden City, New York: Doubleday & Company, 1971), pp. 184-
185: “The quotation (Isaiah 29:13) is neither from the LXX nor from the Masoretic text. It may
derive from the ‘Old Palestinian’ tradition. This source we no longer have, but its existence has
been dramatically indicated by the OT material from Qumran.” (Their commentary is in the same
series of the Anchor Yale Reference Library as is Meier’s A Marginal Jew.) Therefore, Meier’s
argument about Isaiah 29:13 seems too rigorous, so to speak. It fits his methodology, which is
to base judgments about historicity only on the basis of documentary evidence. But an exegete
may indeed consider the fact of the existence of alternative Hebrew readings in assessing the
historical plausibility of this story in Mark and Matthew. A hermeneutics of trust would motivate
an exegete to take into consideration the “Old Palestinian” tradition of the Hebrew Scriptures
which is known to be remarkably similar to the LXX.
Regarding Mark 7:1-23, it is clear that the whole pericope (really, several connected pericopes)
is written with the intention to apply it to the life of the early church, i.e. to give an interpretation
of Jesus’ teaching regarding purity laws that all foods were declared clean by Jesus. Also, there
are other elements (7:3 and 7:11) that show Mark is giving explanations to a Gentile Christian
community about unknown Jewish customs as well as Mark’s famous Latinisms. Compare
Matthew’s version of this story which lacks all of Mark’s obvious efforts to apply this story to the
situation of Gentile Christians. By the way, Meier thinks Matthew is a conflation of Mark based
on the accepted hypothesis that Matthew and Luke used Mark as a source. We must not forget
that there is an alternative theory of source criticism which thinks Mark used Matthew and Luke-
-a theory not widely accepted, but which occasionally makes more sense than the standard
theory. Since Matthew says Jesus spoke about what comes out of the “mouth” rather than about
what comes out of a man, it may be that Matthew has some independent source for his version.
Moreover, Matthew’s version of the “vice list” is Jewish rather than Gentile and would make
more sense as a representation of the teaching of Jesus. We cannot say for sure, but we have
to be careful about deciding the authenticity of a story in one Gospel (Mark) simply by ruling out
of consideration a parallel story in another Gospel (Matthew) as being only a redaction by the
writer of the other Gospel rather than another version of the same story that might be based
on an independent source of information. C.S. Mann is a commentator who advocates the
“Griesbach hypothesis” that Mark was written later than Matthew and Luke and was dependent
upon both of them and altered them by conflation and addition of vivid detail (perhaps from
Peter); see C.S. Mann, Mark (Garden City, New York: Doubleday & Company, 1986). Mann’s
view is that Matthew’s parallel text to Mark 7:1-23 is an earlier Jewish Christian text that does
not reflect the “Roman stage” of Mark’s work as an evangelist when Mark was applying Jesus’
teaching to meet the needs of Gentile Christians (pp. 316-317).
I share the opinion of those whom Meier puts in the “middle position” regarding how to view
Mark 7. I think the aphorism of Jesus in Mark 7:15 is from the historical Jesus because it clearly
reflects the structure and style of statements attributed to Jesus that most exegetes judge to be
historically authentic. Meier definitely respects this opinion, although he jumps through
exegetical hoops to try to counter it. If the aphorism is from Jesus, then we do have an
indication of Jesus’ teaching as it touches on purity laws. The point of the saying is that what
matters to God is “purity of heart,” as it is expressed in the Sermon on the Mount. Purity of heart
fits Jeremiah’s depiction of the new covenant in which God writes his law on the people’s hearts
so that they know how to do God’s will. I think purity of heart (derived from Jeremiah’s prophecy
of a new covenant) was an essential dimension of Jesus’ proclamation of the kingdom of God
and interpretation of the law. The relevance of Jesus’ teaching on purity of heart to the purity
laws would be that Jesus makes the purity laws relative. He does not dismiss them or say that
one does not have to observe them, but he says purity is heart is what is most important to God,
and he would be implying that purity of heart is really the original divine intent of the purity laws.
My conception of Jesus’ teaching on purity of heart never appears at all in Meier’s discussion. It
is interesting how Meier does accept Jesus’ statement (Matthew 23:25-26 and Luke 11:39-41)
about the Pharisees being concerned about cleaning cups while they themselves are morally
impure. In fact, Meier says that Jesus’ statement in Matthew 23:25-26 and Luke 11:39-41 “uses
the issue of ritual purity on a metaphorical level to inculcate the importance of inner, moral
purity,” but he insists that this saying “tells us little about Jesus’ views of purity laws.” Doesn’t
that statement, which Meier acknowledges comes from Q (derived from the A.D. 40’s) and is
most likely authentic, fit with my contention that Jesus’ teaching involved an emphasis on purity
of heart as God’s will concerning the purity of Israel and human life? So then, I think Mark 7 and
Matthew 15 do provide a basis for getting a perspective on Jesus’ attitude toward purity laws. I
do not think that Jesus abrogates the purity laws (how could he and still be Israel’s
representative or at least a credible Jewish prophet?), but he does in effect make them relative
to God’s real intention for purity of heart. On that basis, Mark claims that Jesus did away with
food laws, but this is clearly only Mark’s interpretation after the fact to meet a need of the
Gentile church–an interpretation that goes far beyond what Jesus himself taught. No doubt
Mark, who was a companion of both Peter and Paul, is offering an interpretation or a broad
inference from Jesus’ more general teaching which was coherent with both the later belief of
Peter (who received a vision that all foods are clean) and the Gospel of freedom taught by Paul
on the basis of Paul’s understanding of the meaning of the new covenant instituted through the
death and resurrection of Jesus the Messiah.
Now consider the scene in Mark 7:1-8 that opens the pericope and which concludes with Jesus’
denouncement of human traditions concerning handwashing and the washing of cups and pots
and vessels based on Isaiah 29:13. Meier dismisses the opening scene about handwashing
mainly because he thinks it should be judged inauthentic since the rest of the pericope is
deemed inauthentic and also because of the alleged misuse of Isaiah. In the opening scene,
Jesus is arguing that the oral tradition of the interpretation of the law by men has gotten in the
way of hearing the word of God in the law. Jesus is not opposing the law of the Torah; he is
opposing an oral tradition advocated by some Pharisees in which purity rules about washing
prescribed only for priests in the Torah are being imposed on lay people.
I think there are grounds to believe that this scene comes from a historical context. After all,
doesn’t Meier say that Jesus takes the side of the peasants in his commonsense approach to
the Sabbath? Isn’t Jesus doing the same here with handwashing? Besides, many
commentators think that some Pharisees in the first century were scrupulous about these kinds
of rituals. Meier argues that there is no documentary evidence that the Pharisees were this way.
no writings at all from the Pharisees in the first century. Commentators who judge that this story
may be historical point to later rabbinic teaching as an indication of what the Pharisees taught in
the first century. Meier’s methodology rules out later rabbinic teaching as relevant to the thought
of Pharisees in the first century, but if later rabbis did indeed develop out of the Pharisee
movement (a disputed scholarly issue) then it is reasonable to consider that later teaching about
washing may have been rooted in the teaching and practice of the Pharisees. Scientifically, this
cannot be proven, but if you do not have a hermeneutics of suspicion toward the Gospels, then
the Gospels are evidence of at least some Pharisees’ teaching in the first century. In Meier’s
previous discussion of Jesus and the Sabbath, he argued that the Pharisees would not have
opposed Jesus’ healings on the Sabbath since there is no documentary evidence from the
period prior to A.D. 70 that there were rules against healing on the Sabbath. Much of the
evidence Meier cites is derived from the research of Lutz Doering. In a footnote, he
acknowledges that Doering did believe that the disputes between Jesus and the Pharisees
about healing on the Sabbath are rooted in historical fact. Meier says, “Doering admits that
there is not a single non-Christian source in the pre-70 period that mentions sabbath healings
as a breach of the sabbath. But the Gospel dispute stories plus the prohibitions in the Mishna
and the Tosepta lead Doering to suggest that, around the time of Jesus, the Pharisees or other
Jews similar to the Pharisees in teaching held that healing was a sabbath violation…. One
wonders whether this line of argument does not involve a certain amount of circular reasoning.”
Doering was appealing to the historical evidence in the Gospels from several sources that
Jesus’ Sabbath healings provoked disputes. I do not think Meier does justice to this multiple
attestation from several sources in the Gospels of the connection between Jesus’ Sabbath
healings and disputes. Moreover, his hermeneutics of suspicion prevents him from accepting
evidence from one of the most important historical sources for first century Judaism– the
Gospels. I further think that the reference in Mark 7:1-8 that the Pharisees were preoccupied
with ritual washings should be considered as historical indicators just like the stories in the
Gospels which state that some Pharisees disputed Jesus’ healings on the Sabbath. This cannot
be proven since we have no writings of the Pharisees. I appreciate how Meier rejects the
accounts in the Gospels on the basis of his scientific methods, i.e. we have no documentary
evidence outside the Gospels to verify that the Pharisees either opposed healing on the
Sabbath or were scrupulous about washing, but the historical reality of what the Pharisees did
may be quite different from the construction Meier makes in accordance with his rigorous
methodology.
Besides, I point out an inconsistency in Meier’s case against the historicity of the depiction
of the Pharisees in the Gospels as advocating purity rituals of washing. As I have already
mentioned, in his discussion of texts that might pertain to ritual impurity Meier says that Matthew
23:25-26 and Luke 11:39-40 are from Q (probably dating to the A.D. 40’s) and are authentic.
These parallel texts criticize the Pharisees for cleaning the outside of cups and plates but the
Pharisees themselves were full of extortion and wickedness, adding that it is necessary to be
cleansed on the inside. These texts–which Meier himself cites as two versions of an authentic
saying of Jesus from Q– would seem to contradict Meier’s own overall conclusion that we have
no evidence that Jesus criticized the Pharisees for their insincerity in being preoccupied with
ritual washings while defiling the people with their moral impurity!
By the way, in a footnote, Meier does have to acknowledge that archeological excavations
have uncovered large numbers of stone vessels in and around Jerusalem dating from the
first century, which some scholars contend represent how many people were influenced by
the Pharisees to engage in ritual washings (stone vessels were prescribed by later rabbis for
ritual washings because they were believed to be free from impurities). This archeological
evidence is no small bit of evidence, and it would seem to support the historicity of the portrayal
of Pharisees in the Gospels as a group that practiced ritual washings and advocated that
lay persons do so also in accordance with “the tradition of the elders” or their oral tradition of
interpreting the law.
Remember, Meier accepts the saying about corban as authentic. Doesn’t this saying fit with
the overall view that Jesus was deeply concerned about how oral tradition was distorting the
divine purpose of the law? If the corban saying is historical as Meier judges, then it is a solid
example of the principle which Jesus discusses in the scene in which he criticizes the Pharisees
for imposing ritual washing designed for priests on the common people. In other words, the
corban saying illustrates or reinforces the idea that Jesus did dispute rabbinic traditions (like the
institution of corban) that in effect violated the will of God expressed in the Ten Commandments
and the law in the Torah.
I do not have a strong opinion about the “vice list” attributed to Jesus in Mark 7:21-22, but I
do assume that Mark’s agenda to instruct Christian Gentiles (originally in the church in Rome)
means that his creative hand is evident in this section. Whether or not that explains Matthew’s
version I cannot say, but I would point out that Matthew’s list in Matthew 15:19 is more Jewish
and more limited to the Ten Commandments and therefore may be a version of an original
statement of Jesus unless one presumes that it is the product of Matthew himself. Matthew
15:19 is, “For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false
witness, slander,” while Mark 7:21-22 is, “For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil
thoughts, fornication, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy,
slander, pride, foolishness.”
To sum up the discussion of Mark 7 and Matthew 15, I think they do go back to a historical
dispute between Jesus and some Pharisees and that they do reveal Jesus’ attitude toward
purity laws. In the end, I am not in serious disagreement with Meier’s basic view of Jesus and
the purity laws. Meier thinks Jesus generally paid them no mind. I think Jesus was engaged in a
debate about them with Pharisees and perhaps others, that Jesus had a concern about the way
the rabbinic oral tradition, “the tradition of the elders,” could obscure God’s will in the law, and
that Jesus also emphasized the necessity of purity of heart as being integral to God’s original
purpose of humankind in creation and in the giving of the Torah.

Jesus and the Sabbath

The following is a brief overview with a general critique of the chapter on “Jesus and the
Sabbath” in John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus: Volume Four:
Law and Love (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009), pp. 235-341.
A few remarks concerning Meier’s program are in order to provide some background regarding
his judgments concerning the texts which he examines in this chapter.
Meier is attempting to engage in “the quest of the historical Jesus,” as Albert Schweitzer
called it in the English title of his famous book, The Quest of the Historical Jesus (New York:
Macmillan, 1922). Meier considers this quest to be a distinctive discipline that should be
engaged in a scientific manner. Accordingly, he thinks that it is an abuse of this discipline
when its practitioners use the quest as a way of doing christology, which is another distinctive
discipline. Meier is quite contemptuous of such abuse: “The Christian depiction of the ‘historical
Jesus’ tends to be co-opted either for traditional Christian theology or for a radical replacement
of traditional Christianity by whatever is deemed relevant in a given year or a given movement.”
I think Meier is quite correct that any quest for the historical Jesus should be a distinctive
discipline conducted in a scientific manner based upon certain definite presuppositions and
methods. Likewise, I think theology should be conducted as a science with its own object and
methods, a view of the task of theology which has been best explained by the late Thomas F.
Torrance in many works (see the publication of his early essays of the 1960’s in Thomas F.
Torrance, Theology in Reconstruction (Eugene, Oregon: Wipf & Stock, 1996). Meier’s appraisal
of the quest as a legitimate science is not incompatible with the science of theology since the
quest has a different object and different methods. Notably, Meier is very clear that the quest
is a discipline of historiography, and therefore the quest necessarily “brackets” all theological
claims being made in the Gospels and in other texts in the New Testament. Theology, on the
other hand, has as its object the Word of God to which the very theological claims or testimony
to the meaning of events portrayed in the Gospels and other texts of the New Testament bear
witness.
The methods which Meier employs to assess the historicity of narratives and sayings in the
Gospels are the well-known criteria of embarrassment, discontinuity, multiple attestation,
coherence, and Jesus’ rejection and execution, i.e. what words and deeds of Jesus fit with his
trial and execution. Secondary criteria include traces of Aramaic in sayings of Jesus, and vivid
detail in the narrative (which Meier does not consider helpful on the basis that vivid detail may
represent the artistry of an evangelist).
It is obvious that the employment of these criteria is based on a hermeneutics of suspicion
toward the Gospels as historical documents. Such a suspicion is necessary for a purely
scientific historical methodology applied to the portrayal of Jesus in the Gospels. By contrast,
the believing church approaches the Gospels and the rest of the New Testament with a
hermeneutics of trust that the canonical Scriptures are trustworthy as testimony to both the
general historicity of events and to the meaning of events as revelatory of the divine presence
and activity. Richard Bauckham has presented a searching critique of the hermeneutics of
suspicion and provided a plausible alternative to the kind of theory of the transmission of Gospel
traditions espoused by Meier in Jesus and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospels as Eyewitness
Testimony (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006), a book that represents a new general perspective
on the historicity of the Gospels based on studies of Greco-Roman historiography, the new
discipline of oral history, psychological research on memory recollection, and the value of
testimony as an essential dimension of historical research and as a philosophical category.
In other words, there are historiographical reasons as well as a faith in divine presence and
activity in history to justify a Christian hermeneutics of trust in the Gospels. Of course, basic
trust in the Gospels is not the same as a naive view which would not recognize the role of some
adaptation of the traditions in the interests of meeting the needs of communities, the hand of
the evangelists in redacting their traditions, or the presence of inaccuracies in the texts, not
to mention the fact that the traditions about Jesus in the Gospels often circulated as isolated
units without a remembrance of their concrete contexts, etc. The upshot is that Christians may
respect and learn from the discipline of the quest for the historical Jesus when it sticks to its
own strict methodology, but a Christian perspective is also always going to be in tension with
this discipline of the quest for the historical Jesus. The critical scholar John Knox suggested that
the church’s attitude toward scientific historical research on the life of Jesus is analogous to a
biographer’s research on your best friend’s life: while the biographer will probably tell you some
things which you did not know about your friend or even show you that you were mistaken about
some facts about his life so that your perspective on your friend has altered somewhat, it cannot
change your basic memory of your friend. Likewise, “In a way not too different the church bears
in its heart the memory of Jesus and would find inconceivable that the historian’s method should
ever discredit that memory.” See John Knox, Criticism and Faith (Nashville: Abingdon Press,
1952), p. 40.
It is also necessary to mention briefly Meier’s perspective on the miracles of Jesus since several
of the narratives concerning the sabbath involve miracle stories. Miracles are discussed in
Volume 2 of A Marginal Jew. Meier rejects the presupposition of someone like Rudolf Bultmann
who claimed that miracles are impossible from a scientific perspective, not only because
Bultmann’s “scientific” perspective is an outmoded model in light of contemporary physics, but
also because there is hard evidence that there are events which cannot be explained by known
causes. Meier cites the miracles of healing which occur at Lourdes–healings which are
rigorously examined by a board of scientists, some of whom are atheists. Meier is clear that
historians cannot make a judgment whether or not unexplained healings or events are really
“miracles,” i.e. attributable to acts of God, since this is a theological concept bracketed from
historical science. Yet the historical question is whether or not there are grounds to affirm that
Jesus, his disciples, or others believed that remarkable cures or events occurred in the ministry
of Jesus because of the power of God at work in his ministry. His global answer is that there are
solid grounds to think that the historical Jesus exercised a healing ministry in which remarkable
cures occurred, such as the blind recovering their sight. Interestingly, when he moves to
examine particular stories of miracles, he judges that the stories about the raising of the dead
are among the most credible on the basis of the application of his criteria for historicity,
including the raising of Lazarus in John. Nevertheless, he looks at each miracle story one by
one, and he affirms the probable historicity of some, the legendary nature of others, and a
judgment of non liquet (not decided or proven) for others. I mention this because, according to
Meier’s judgment, all of the miracle stories in the Synoptic Gospels that concern the Sabbath
come under the judgment of non liquet. This does not mean that Meier necessarily rejects their
historicity, but only that he does not think there are grounds to affirm their probable historicity on
the basis of his scientifically controlled criteria. For example, Meier reaches a judgment of non
liquet on the story of Jesus’ exorcism on the Sabbath in Mark 1:23-28 (cf. Luke 4:33-37)–a story
that does not involve a dispute. Meier believes that this story is a paradigm of Jesus’ ministry of
exorcism in the vicinity of Capernaum since there is multiple attestation that Jesus performed
exorcisms and that his ministry in Galilee was centered around Capernaum. Yet he does not
believe there is a basis for ascertaining the historicity of this particular account since the story
itself comes only from Mark (and taken over by Luke) and because the dialogue reflects the
later christology of the early church. [The early second century tradition from Papias and others
that Mark’s Gospel is based in part on the preaching of Peter in Rome is not considered a factor
of consideration according to the criteria which Meier employs. Hence a story with only one
source necessarily must receive a judgment of non liquet. The story may be based on an actual
particular event, but a historian cannot ascertain its historicity. Moreover, according to the
general nature of the story (shorn of the christological dialogue it contains) and its place in the
context of Mark’s redaction and creation of a narrative of Jesus’ ministry causes Meier to view it
as only a paradigm of Jesus’ exorcisms at Capernaum.]
Now, on to the subject of Jesus and the Sabbath….
Certainly, the most valuable contribution Meier makes to this subject is his exhaustive study
of the rules concerning the Sabbath in the Torah, the Deuterocanonical or Apocryphal books,
the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (Book of Jubilees) and Qumran (chiefly the Damascus
Document), Jewish Diaspora literature (Aristobulus, Philo, and Josephus), and the Mishna (A.D.
200-220). His exposition is so detailed that it ought to be studied, but the bottom line is that
there is nothing in all the sources which warrants the idea seemingly conveyed by the Gospels
that healing on the Sabbath was prohibited in first century Palestine.
The Torah contains two versions of the Sabbath command in Exodus 20 and Deuteronomy
5, the first grounding the Sabbath in the creation narrative and the second grounding it in the
Exodus from Egypt. Exodus 34:21 states that cessation of labor is required even in times of
plowing and reaping. Exodus 31:12-17 prescribes that anyone who labors on the Sabbath shall
be put to death. Exodus 35:3 adds a prohibition against kindling a fire in one’s dwelling on the
Sabbath. Leviticus 23:3 lists the Sabbath as an appointed feast of Israel. There are a few other
texts not worth mentioning for our summary. The story of the mana in Exodus 16 became the
basis of later rabbinic teaching for the prohibition of food preparation on the Sabbath. In the later
prophets, there is evidence of how Israel had to extend the prohibition of labor on the Sabbath
because of the change from a purely agricultural society to a more urban, commercial society
(Amos 8:5). Jeremiah warned the people not to carry burdens on the Sabbath (Jeremiah 17:19-
27). After the Exile, Nehemiah had to warn against the sale of merchandise and agricultural
products on the Sabbath (Nehemiah 10:32) although it is not certain that all Jews in Palestine
observed the ban, including during the first century A.D. None of the prohibitions in the Torah
or the rest of the Old Testament pertain to Jesus’ activity recorded in the Gospels, although
the accusation against Jesus’ disciples that they were reaping grain is relevant in Mark 2:23-28
and its parallels and the accusation against the healed paralytic carrying his mat is relevant in
John 5:1-9a. The one thing that Jesus himself is accused of–healing–is never prohibited in the
Scriptures.
There are some texts in the MIshna which indicate that “the post-70 rabbis had developed a
new type of sabbath prohibition concerning healing, enshrined literarily for the first time in the
Mishna.” These texts in the Mishna are different from the particular text in the Mishna which
contains the list of 39 prohibitions of activity on the Sabbath; in the list of 39 prohibitions,
healing on the Sabbath is never mentioned and therefore is not prohibited. However, some of
the texts scattered throughout the Mishna do have prohibitions on healing. For example, one
text indicates that it is illicit to use a food or ointment solely for the purpose of a cure although
one may use the food or ointment if one ordinarily uses it in one’s daily life without any thought
or intention of healing. On the other hand, another isolated text actually allows one to carry
an amulet out of his house on the Sabbath if the amulet has proven curative powers–hence
suggesting that healing on the Sabbath was not necessarily forbidden by rabbis in the third
century. Moreover, another document in the Mishna specifies that medicine may be dropped
into the throat of sick person on the Sabbath since there may be doubt whether the person’s life
is in danger, indicating that the risk of the loss of human life supersedes the Sabbath. So then,
in the third century, rabbis did begin to develop a new type of limited prohibition against healing
on the Sabbath, but clearly the Mishna is inconsistent and the overall impression of the teaching
of the Mishna is that it generally does not prohibit healing on the Sabbath. At any rate, the
rules of the Mishna cannot be retrojected back into first century Palestine–an error committed
by many exegetes, but no longer considered legitimate in contemporary historical studies
because of the obvious fact that rabbinic Judaism did not become established until following
the destruction of the Temple in A.D. 70 and the reformulation of Judaism in the successive
centuries.
Meier is clear that “no Jewish document prior to A.D. 70 gives the slightest indication that an act
of healing was considered a violation of the sabbath rest.” The new development emerging in
the third century Mishna ought not obscure this documentary fact.
Meier’s study of the Book of Jubilees (161-152 B.C.) and the Dead Sea Scrolls, especially the
Damascus Document, does yield some important information relevant to sayings of Jesus in the
Gospels. Jubilees shows a tendency to make lists of prohibitions of behavior on the Sabbath
(later amplified and codified in the Mishna), and these include prohibition of going on a journey,
plowing a field, kindling a fire, riding an animal, traveling in a boat, slaughtering or killing
anything, observing a fast, or fighting a war. All of its prohibitions are irrelevant to the indications
in the Gospels that Jesus’ miracles of healing the sick on the Sabbath represented a violation
of the law, but the prohibitions against agricultural labor and of carrying objects (prohibitions
already in the Torah or the prophets) are relevant only to the story of the disciples plucking
grain in Mark 2:23-28 (which is not a miracle story) and the story of the man healed of paralysis
in John 5:1-9 because the healed man got up and carried his mat. However, the Damascus
Document does have some relevant elements to the sayings of Jesus. Permission is given
to allow one’s cattle to pasture outside one’s settlement for a distance of 2000 cubits (1,000
yards), which is relevant to a saying of Jesus in Luke 13:15. Another passage forbids assistance
to animals in two cases: one should not help an animal give birth on the Sabbath, and if an
animal falls into a cistern or a pit, no one is to pull it up on the Sabbath. The prohibition in the
second case concerning an animal falling into a pit is contradicted by Jesus in Matthew 12:9-14
and in a separate story by Luke in Luke 14:1-6. The stringent approach of the Document to the
problem of animals falling into a pit is slightly mitigated in the case of human beings who fall into
a cistern or pit. Tools may not be used to get the human out, but someone may throw the victim
his garment to draw him out. The overriding concern in the Document seems to be to prohibit
the carrying of tools on the Sabbath. Yet it is important to note that the Essenes and perhaps
other sectarians were more strict than the later Mishna in that the Essenes did not adopt the
principle of later rabbis that the obligation to rescue human life overrode Sabbath prohibitions.
It is significant that the prohibitions in the Essene texts stand in contrast to Jesus’ sayings in
the Gospels, but they are not necessarily relevant to the narratives about Jesus’ actions on the
Sabbath in the Gospels as Meier will attempt to demonstrate.
After surveying all this Jewish literature, Meier proceeds to critically examine the Gospel
accounts of Jesus’ actions on the Sabbath and his sayings about the Sabbath.
Basically, what Meier wishes to ascertain is whether there are grounds to think that the historical
Jesus was perceived to have violated the law of God by healing persons on the Sabbath.
Meier does not think that the stories of Jesus’ healing on the Sabbath which do not involve a
dispute about Sabbath observance are relevant to his interest in whether or not the historical
Jesus was perceived as violating the law by healing on the Sabbath. So, he rules out of
consideration an exorcism performed on the Sabbath at Capernaum (Mark 1:23-28; Luke
4:33-37), the healing of Peter’s mother-in-law which is placed by Mark on the Sabbath day
(Mark 1:29-31) or miracles performed at Nazareth (Mark 6:2, 5) since Mark never states these
miracles at Nazareth were performed on the Sabbath. Meier’s judgment on the miracles in Mark
1:21-34 is that of non-liquet anyway.
The miracle stories that include disputes about the Sabbath are Mark 3:1-6 (and its parallels
in Matthew 12:9-14 and Luke 6:6-11), Luke 13:10-17, Luke 14:1-6, John 5:1-9a, and John
9:1-7. Since there are several stories about a dispute over Jesus’ healings on the Sabbath,
the impression is that there is multiple attestation to support the historicity of disputes about
Jesus violating Sabbath prohibitions in healing persons on the Sabbath. However, Meier thinks
that detailed examination of these narratives may yield a different perspective than this first
impression.
He examines the Synoptic stories first. Meier’s judgment of the historicity of every one of the
Synoptic stories of Jesus healing on the Sabbath is that of non liquet, mostly on the grounds
that there is only one source for them or that they do not meet the criteria of multiple attestation.
In other words, he has doubts that they are historical at all, although he does not rule out per se
their possible historicity.
Mark 3:1-6 concerns the healing of the man with a withered hand. Meier thinks the story is more
christological than halakic, i.e. the story serves Mark’s redactional purposes. At any rate, Jesus
actually does nothing except to give two short commands. How could this be a violation of the
Sabbath? Besides, no Jewish document prior to A.D. 70 gives the slightest indication that an
act of healing was considered a violation of Sabbath rest. Even some statements in the Mishna
which limit healing on the Sabbath concern some special act beyond ordinary actions in order
that the act would be considered “work,” but Jesus does nothing that meets even the standards
of a prohibition in the third century Mishna. Matthew’s version of this same story has a saying in
Matthew 12:11 which Meier discusses when he looks at the sayings of Jesus.
Luke 13:10-17 from the L tradition is about healing a woman who had been bent over for 18
years. Here Jesus both speaks a command and lays his hands on her. Again there is nothing
against healing on the Sabbath in the documents, and even the Mishna does not address a
healing of this kind that involves speech and a touch. There is a saying of Jesus that occurs in
Luke 13:15 which Meier addresses later.
Luke 14:1-6 is also from the L tradition, and it concerns healing a man with dropsy. Here
Jesus takes hold of the man, healed him, and let him go. Again there is no known violation of
the Sabbath in his actions. However, the story contains a saying of Jesus in Luke 14:5 to be
considered later–a saying Meier considers to be an alternate version of the saying in Matthew
12:11.
Meier concludes there are too many problems with the three Synoptic narratives of Jesus’
healing on the Sabbath for us to accept them as historically reliable accounts of Sabbath
disputes. Not only does Meier judge that there are not grounds for the historicity of the miracles
based on his criteria, but also he observes that the actions of Jesus described in the stories
could not be considered as violations of any Sabbath prohibitions. That may not be true of the
sayings in Matthew 12:11 and Luke 14:5 and Luke 13:15 which are embedded in some of the
stories about Jesus healing on the Sabbath.
Meier does believe that the stories of Jesus’ healings recorded in John 5:1-9a and John 9:1-
7 do go back to events in the ministry of the historical Jesus. Meier considers the Gospel
of John to be a Gospel which draws from sources independent of the Synoptic Gospels,
and his analysis of these two stories in Volume 2 in A Marginal Jew led him to the judgment
that the core of the stories are historical. In both cases, archeological discoveries confirm
the topographical descriptions in the stories; the attitudes of the sick man in John 5 are not
stereotypical of those of many miracle stories; and the particular actions of Jesus in John 9 of
using spittle to make clay to anoint the eyes of the blind man is unique in the Gospels despite
apparent but different parallels of Jesus’ use of spittle in two stories in Mark 7:31-37 and Mark
8:22-26 (in Mark Jesus uses spittle as a direct source of healing, but in John Jesus uses spittle
only as a symbol because the miracle occurs only in the washing done at Jesus’ command).
It might seem, then, that these two stories in John would be evidence that there were disputes
over Jesus’ violation of Sabbath prohibitions in healing persons on the Sabbath. However, while
Meier judges that the miracles themselves probably go back to the historical Jesus, he also
contends that the primitive form of the stories did not contain any reference to the Sabbath.
It is only after the miracle stories that the evangelist appends the further information that the
healings occurred on the Sabbath (John 5:9b and John 9:14)–information that serves John’s
literary and theological purposes. In other words, it is a pattern in John to use a miracle or
“sign” as the launching point for creating dialogues with “the Jews” which leads to a monologue
that affirms John’s christology. Also, the motif of the Sabbath drops out of view once the
christological monologues begin. He thinks the mention of the Sabbath is just “an artificial
literary and theological link” connecting short original stories of healing and John’s christological
monologues.
Meier concludes that we are faced with a paradox in analyzing the stories in the Synoptics and
John. In the Synoptic Gospels, the Sabbath motif enters early in the stories and shapes the
whole story. In John, the motif of the Sabbath has been added secondarily. As already stated,
Meier does not think that any of the stories in the Synoptics can be declared authentic whereas
the healing narratives in John most probably do go back to the events in the life of Jesus.
So then, despite first impressions, Meier says “in all four Gospels, we have not a single
narrative of a sabbath dispute occasioned by a healing that probably goes back to the historical
Jesus.” Note that his point is that we do not have a single story of a healing by Jesus that was
the occasion of a dispute about the Sabbath–not that every story of a healing is inauthentic.
Meier then turns to the sayings of Jesus on the Sabbath which are found in the Synoptic
miracles stories. In Mark’s story of the man with the withered hand in Mark 3:1-6 (cf. Matthew
12:9-14 and Luke 6:6-11), in Luke’s story of the bent-over woman (Luke 13:10-17), and in
Luke’s story of the man with dropsy (Luke 14:1-6), there is some kind of rhetorical question
posed by Jesus to answer the spoken or unspoken objections of his critics.
In Mark 3:4, Jesus asks, “Is it licit on the sabbath to do good or to do evil, to save a life or to kill
[it]?” Luke 6:9 repeats the Marcan form of this broad rhetorical question.
However, in the Matthean version of the same story, the unnamed opponents (who are the
Pharisees in light of Matthew 12:14), make the dispute overt by asking, “Is it licit on the sabbath
to do good or to do evil, to save a life or to kill [it]?” Jesus replies with a rhetorical question that
is more specific than Mark 3:14 in that it takes up a halakic matter disputed by Jews around the
turn of the era: “Which man among you, if he has a sheep that falls into a pit on the sabbath,
will not take hold of him and draw him up?” (Matthew 12:11). Jesus adds a second rhetorical
question, making explicit his argument: “How much more valuable is a human being than a
sheep?” Matthew then returns to the Marcan text, but he abbreviates Mark’s rhetorical question
in 3:4 and turns it into the logical conclusion of his own two rhetorical questions. One gets the
impression that Matthew’s inclusion of his two questions are his own redaction, but do the
questions represent some traditional saying of Jesus rather than Matthew’s creation?
In Luke’s unique story of the healing of the man with dropsy in Luke 14:1-6, Jesus asks
Pharisees and lawyers, “Is it licit on the sabbath to cure or not?” They remain silent. Then after
the healing, Jesus asks, “Which of you, if your son or ox falls into a cistern, will not immediately
pull him up on the sabbath?” (Luke 14:5).
Meier thinks Matthew 12:11 and Luke 14:5 represent two versions of a stray oral tradition
(originally in Aramaic) that came independently to each evangelist and that each evangelist
inserted it into a fitting situation. Matthew inserted it into Mark’s dispute story, and Luke selected
a story from his own unique tradition (L).
There is another rhetorical question in the story in Luke 13:10-17. The critic in this story is
“the ruler of the synagogue,” who is not identified as a Pharisee. He addresses the crowd by
criticizing it for coming to the synagogue for healings when they have six workdays to do that.
Jesus replies to the ruler, but addresses some presumed group of opponents: “Hypocrites!
Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or donkey from the manger and lead it away
to drink?” (Luke 13:15). This may be a secondary addition to a miracle story. The question is
similar to Matthew 12:11 and Luke 14:5 in that it speaks of farm animals in need on the Sabbath
and of the permission of the owners to meet that need. The difference is that the others refer
to an emergency whereas Luke 13:5 speaks of a need that would arise on any Sabbath which
would have to be met by any Jew keeping farm animals. Then in Luke 13:6, Jesus invokes the
Sabbath permission he has just described as an analogy for the justification of his healing. The
forced connection between untying an animal to let it drink and untying the bond of the woman
for 18 years may be another indication that Luke 13:15 was originally an isolated halakic saying.
The upshot of this inspection of sayings about the Sabbath embedded in miracles stories is that
we have multiple attestation for the claim that Jesus used rhetorical questions to argue with his
fellow Jews over the proper way to observe the Sabbath rest. Jesus is not “a vague preacher or
generic prophet who provides grand visions and general moral truths while avoiding the nittygritty
of detailed questions about observances of the Mosaic Law. Jesus…stakes out his own
halakic positions and tries to persuade others to adopt them.”
If someone were to object that Meier has already rendered the judgment of non liquet to the
miracle stories in the Synoptics but he thinks these sayings go back to the historical Jesus,
Meier replies that the case of the sayings are different. He has shown how they were insertions,
and they not only represent multiple attestation, they also seem to presuppose and react to
Sabbath halaka taught by certain groups of Palestinian Jews at the time of Jesus.
Meier thinks that the views which Jesus was opposing include those of the stringent Essenes
on the assumption that the strict rules of sectarians had a certain appeal to pious Jews who
were a part of no group. Were Pharisaic teachings also in view by Jesus? We do not have
direct attestation of the Pharisees’ views on the subjects Jesus’ rhetorical questions address.
However, in light of certain studies (which I will pass over), Meier says it is likely that the
Pharisees prohibited drawing animals out a pit on the Sabbath. It is understandable if Jesus
would have clashed with the Pharisees since some scholars contend the Pharisees were trying
to spread their influence among the common people–perhaps why the Gospels portray the
Pharisees as the group Jesus opposes. As far as the Pharisees’ teaching on accepting danger
to human life as justification for overriding the Sabbath is concerned, Josephus says Jews in
general permitted military battles on the Sabbath in cases of self-defense. The silence of the
Pharisees to Jesus’ rhetorical question in Mark 3:4 suggests that Jesus and his opponents
shared the view that one is permitted to take measures to save endangered human life on
the Sabbath. In this Marcan story, the dispute arises only when Jesus proceeds to extend this
principle by healing a paralysis (a withered hand)–which is not a case of endangered life.
Luke 14:5, which refers to drawing out a “son” or an “ox” who fell into a cistern, Jesus stands
on the side of the peasants who would draw out the ox whereas neither the Essenes or
the Pharisees would draw it out. As far as the “son” is concerned, Jesus and the peasants
would draw him out (of course!), and the Pharisees would probably agree with Jesus and the
peasants, but the Essenes would only permit you to draw him out with your own garment but not
with any tools.
Luke 13:15 pertains to the ordinary need of untying a donkey or ox so it can drink. No
documented halaka prior to A.D. 70 takes a position opposite to Luke 13:15. Not even the
Essenes prohibited this, and in fact they were more liberal than later rabbis in the Mishna
which prohibits tying and untying knots on the Sabbath. Jesus presupposes that no one would
disagree with his saying in Luke 13:15.
The point of all these detailed debates about Sabbath halaka is that “the historical Jewish
Jesus must be seen as a Jesus immersed in the halakic discussions, debates, and actual
practice of 1st-century Palestinian Jews. In particular, Jesus was a Jew who pointedly stood
over against the rigor of the Essenes, the Qumranites, and in some cases the Pharisees or
even the disciples of John the Baptist (Jesus’ disciples must not fast at all!). While we moderns
might prefer to call Jesus’ approach to sabbath observance ‘liberal,’ ‘broad,’ or ‘humane,’ his
approach was first of all the commonsense approach to halaka that probably many ordinary
Jewish peasants had no choice but to follow in their pinched and fragile existence. What Jesus
does is to confirm that their approach as the halaka that correctly reflects God’s will, even as he
presumes to reject what some might see as the admirable zeal and stringency of special sects
and parties. It may well be that Jesus saw it as part of his teaching task to protect the common
people from being attracted to sectarian rigorism.
Meier has a lengthy discussion of the story of the plucking of grain on the Sabbath in Mark
2:23-28. The bottom line is that he thinks this story is a creation of the Christian communities
in Palestine to justify their less stringent observance of the Sabbath in “the sea of Jews-notfor-
Jesus” who surrounded them. Indeed, Meier considers the story to be ridiculous because
it portrays Pharisees as spying on the disciples in a grain field (how could they have gotten
to the fields since they could only walk 2000 cubits or about 1,000 yards?) The scene looks
like one from a Broadway play–”O what a Beautiful Sabbath!” Moreover, Jesus is depicted as
interpreting a story about David from the Scriptures, but the interpretation is contradicted by the
Scripture itself. “If the historical Jesus made these embarrassing mistakes in his debate over
who knows the Scripture best, then so be it: the historical Jesus was ignorant of scripture.”
Such a Jesus would not have been feared by his opponents, but he would have been dismissed
as joke. But Meier does not think the historical Jesus was ignorant of Scripture or ineffective in
debate; quite the opposite, he was a skilled interpreter and debater (even Josephus’ portrayal of
Jesus fits this image), and so the story in Mark is an invention of the early church in Palestine.
Meier usually manifests a judicious temperament, but he is sarcastic in his discussion of the
historicity of this pericope (whose particulars I have not bothered to discuss). I think Meier fails
to gain a perspective on this text that augers well for its plausibility as a historical event. See, for
example, N.T. Wright’s analysis in Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press,
1996), pp. 390-396. Wright does not think this story is about a dispute over the law, but about
Jesus as the bringer of the eschatological Sabbath rest of the kingdom of God and the way in
which Israel’s chief symbols have to be reordered around his message. It is ironic that Meier
and Wright (whose discussion counters E.P. Sanders, not Meier, although Meier seems to be
influenced by Sanders’ analysis) take the positions they do about this text since Wright often
downplays Jesus as an eschatological prophet whereas Meier strongly affirms Jesus’ identity
as an eschatological prophet in A Marginal Jew. Other commentators also take a much more
respectful approach to the text in Mark as a plausible episode in Jesus’ ministry than does
Meier.
What is Meier’s overall conclusion to his study of Jesus and the Sabbath?
He does not think the miracles stories in all the Gospels which involved Sabbath disputes are
credible as dispute stories although the miracles in John were historical and the miracles in the
Synoptic Gospels could have been historical even though he cannot ascertain their historicity
according to his criteria. Yet the sayings about the Sabbath embedded in them are historical.
In sum, Jesus did not violate the Torah in his teaching about the Sabbath, and he joined in the
dispute about halaka (making rules about points of law to apply to personal behavior) by taking
a commonsense, humane approach toward the Sabbath. This leads to his overall portrayal of
the historical Jesus. Jesus was “neither a 1st century Jewish hippie nor a Cynic philosopher
nor a wild-eyed apocalyptic preacher who had no time for or interest in the details of halaka.
Instead, in these sabbath sayings, we find a truly Jewish Jesus arguing with the halakic opinions
of various groups that, like himself, were competing for adherence of ordinary Jews attached
to no one party.” He adds, “Far from a Paul-disguised-as-Jesus who preaches gospel versus
law (which is a caricature of Paul to begin with), the historical Jesus turns out to be the halakic
Jesus. If only older commentators had stopped for a moment to think about the matter from a
truly historical perspective, they would have realized: How could it be otherwise? First-century
Palestinian Judaism being what it was, how could a religiously oriented Jew who tried to lead a
religious movement by competing to gain a following among his fellow Jews be anything else?
The idea of Jesus consciously or unconsciously attacking, subverting, or annulling the sabbath-
-even apart from the penalty of death (at least in theory) for a serious transgression of sabbath
law–is too ludicrous to be taken seriously, despite the fact that it has been taken seriously by
many a critic. All questers for the historical Jesus should repeat the following mantra even in
their sleep: the historical Jesus is the halakic Jesus. This is the positive gain of this chapter that
we must never forget.”
I conclude with offering some of my own general preliminary observations about Meier’s
discussion of Jesus and the Sabbath.
I agree with Meier’ judgment that “the historical Jesus is the halakic Jesus.” Meier’s discussion
of Jesus’ sayings about the Sabbath is astute, and it clearly illuminates how the Gospels
disclose Jesus as a Jewish teacher engaged in the legal disputes of first century Judaism
concerning how to properly interpret the Torah and the Scriptures.
I am not so convinced that Meier is correct in his sweeping conclusion that none of Jesus’
healings on the Sabbath involved disputes about Sabbath observance. I do not think he ever
gives an adequate explanation of why there is a connection made between Jesus’ healings on
the Sabbath and disputes about the observance of the Sabbath in Gospels which draw upon
multiple sources–Mark, the L tradition, and the Johannine tradition. Meier tries to demolish the
fact that there is this connection across several independent sources through a strategy of
deconstruction of each particular story of a Sabbath healing in which there is a reference to a
dispute. Even if one grants that Meier can effectively demonstrate the hand of redaction by the
evangelist in making the connection between the healing and a dispute, it must be noticed that
a redaction by an evangelist is not necessarily a case of inventing, but it may be that
evangelist’s manner of handling and handing on a tradition he had received in which the
connection was already there. This observation puts a check on the assertion that the signs of
redaction mean that the evangelist himself made the connection–a connection by the way that
Mark, Luke, and John all make. Meier would posit that the connection probably arose during the
oral transmission of the tradition when the early church altered stories of miracles as dispute
stories in order to meet its needs to defend its observance of the Sabbath over against that
other Jews. Well, I think the overall theory of form criticism that there was a lengthy period of
anonymous transmission of Jesus tradition in which major adaptations were made is a theory
that itself doesn’t hold water, as Bauckham and an increasing number of critical scholars have
exposed. Even if one grants Meier his presupposition about the nature of the oral transmission
of Gospel traditions, exactly why would the early church change miracle stories of healings into
stories in which there is a dispute between Jesus and others about healing on the Sabbath?
What specific needs of the early church would be addressed by portraying Jesus as being
opposed for healing on the Sabbath? To posit that this was a way of distinguishing the Jewish
Christians and other Jews seems a little lame, for why would there be this consistent pattern of
stories from different traditions which indicate that the controversy was over healing on the
Sabbath? Perhaps if we knew the early church had healing services or exorcisms on the
Sabbath then there might be a Sitz im Leben for the creation of these miracle stories as dispute
stories–but the notion is preposterous, not to mention totally unknown in any documents. If the
response is that these dispute stories were merely a way of portraying opposition to Jesus, then
I would say that it seems odd that the church would create these dispute stories to portray
Jesus’ opposition since there was enough opposition to Jesus for other reasons that there was
no reason why these stories would have to be created. Likewise, if the motive was to portray
Jesus’ humane approach to the Sabbath, then this motive could be adequately fulfilled simply
by reporting his sayings, which Meier shows are historical. It seems to me that the existence of
the connection between disputes about the Sabbath with stories of Jesus healing on the
Sabbath–which appear across the board from independent traditions–are likely based on real
events in the life of Jesus.
I am impressed with Meier’s case that there is no evidence in documents from first century
Palestinian Judaism for prohibition of healing on the Sabbath. There is no reason to argue about
this. Yet I wonder if we have all the evidence. Based on what we do know about the history
of the Pharisees in the first and second centuries–recognizing that the quest of the historical
Pharisees is as complicated as the quest of the historical Jesus–there was a continuum of
opinion and practices among them. Is it implausible that there were some extreme Pharisees
whose zeal involved the opinion that Jesus’ healing on the Sabbath was a provocative act?
Just because we do not have documentary evidence of such zeal on the part of some does not
mean that it did not exist. After all, shouldn’t the Gospels provide some evidence that this is so?
I can imagine a Jewish scholar studying the history of the Pharisees who might cite the Gospel
stories as at least indications that perhaps there were some Pharisees in the early first century
C.E. who may have had a position against healing on the Sabbath since the New Testament
is one of the sources for information about first century Judaism. And, if we remember how
controversial Jesus was, it may be that his healing ministry provoked opposition not so much
because there was a settled opinion about healing on the Sabbath but because they were
looking for reasons to oppose him generally and some may have felt that he was being too
provocative by healing on the Sabbath when he had six other days to do what he wanted to do.
Now, according to the criteria for the quest of the historical Jesus, there are no grounds to
ascertain that Jesus’ healings on the Sabbath provoked disputes. In other words, there are no
scientifically controllable means for ascertaining that the healings involved Sabbath disputes.
That’s surely correct. However, even Meier is clear that “the historical Jesus” is a construct and
must be distinguished from “the real Jesus” just as any historical reconstruction of any figure of
the past is not the same as the person who really lived. On the basis of the distinction between
“the historical Jesus” scholars can construct by scientific methods and “the real Jesus,” there
may be grounds to suppose that there was a historical connection between Jesus’ healings
on the Sabbath and disputes about them as the Gospels portray even if we do not have any
evidence that this was so from outside the Gospels. Here is where a hermeneutics of trust
collides with a hermeneutics of suspicion. Moreover, here is where the issue of the transmission
of Gospel traditions also becomes relevant: if there is evidence that the Gospel traditions reflect
eyewitness testimony–testimony that was guarded by the Twelve in the Jerusalem church as
well as by the continuing presence of the Twelve and other living eyewitnesses during many
or most of the decades of the time or oral transmission–then one will give some credence to
claims in the written Gospels even if one does not find any other corroboration. And, I think
there is hard evidence for this in Paul’s epistles. He certainly reveals that the original apostles
(the Twelve) formulated a fixed version of the apostolic kerygma in 1 Corinthians 15. Moreover,
in 1 Corinthians 11 Paul shows that there was a firm tradition of Jesus’ words at the last supper,
which indicates that the same apostles had some control over the transmission of the tradition
of Jesus’ sayings and actions at the time Paul was writing in the mid-50’s. In Galatians, Paul
speaks of meeting with Peter for 15 days, a time when no doubt Paul received an official version
of the whole Jesus tradition and the apostolic kerygma; as C.H. Dodd remarked, they did not
spend a fortnight “talking about the weather.” The whole idea that the Jesus tradition was being
transmitted and adapted in a free-wheeling manner during the brief time between A.D. 30 and
the writing of Mark by about A.D. 65 is not plausible, especially since the Gospels themselves
provide internal evidence that Jesus traditions were handed on for their own sake even when
they were irrelevant to the churches’ needs (see “the Son of Man” sayings which did not figure
in the development of christology in the early church, etc.).
I do not think that questioning Meier’s opinion about the Gospel narratives of the miracle-dispute
stories calls into question his basic claim that “the historical Jesus is the halakic Jesus.” Nor
does it lead to a view of Jesus as someone trying to subvert the Sabbath because if there were
these disputes about Jesus healing on the Sabbath then they were with some extremists whose
own opinions may not have been widely accepted. Besides, Jesus clearly did not violate the
Torah, and while he sought to discern God’s will in the commandments and ordinances of the
written Torah on the basis of God’s original purpose for creation, he was not afraid to challenge
“the tradition of the elders.” Meier is surely correct that Jesus rolled up his sleeves and dove into
the halaka debates, but he did so on his own terms as one who claimed authority to interpret the
law and the will of God.