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Jesus’ Birth Stories with Caleb Friedeman

To hear the podcast click here.

This transcript has been edited for clarity and space. 

Caleb Friedeman 

Hi, I’m Dr Caleb Friedeman, and I serve as David A. Case Chair of Biblical Studies and Associate Research Professor of New Testament at Ohio Christian University. 

David Capes 

Dr Caleb Friedeman. Caleb, good to see you. This is your first appearance on The Stone Chapel Podcast. 

Caleb Friedeman 

Yes, great to be on. Thanks for having me. 

David Capes 

I got to know you at Wheaton College a few years back when you were there, and since then, you have finished your degree. You’ve graduated, got your PhD, and are doing great work at your university. 

Caleb Friedeman 

Yes! I had a great time at Wheaton and enjoyed getting to spend a little bit of time together there. And the Lord blessed me with the opportunity to come to Ohio Christian University after I graduated, I’ve been here for going on eight years now. It’s hard to believe, in some ways. It’s been a good ride. And have had a lot of opportunities to preach, to teach, to write, and just feel very blessed. 

David Capes 

Well, you’ve written some great things, and the book that we’re going to talk about today is no exception to that. It’s a very interesting thesis, that is cutting some new ground. But let’s give a little bit more information about you. For those who don’t know, Caleb Friedeman, who is he? 

Caleb Friedeman 

I grew up in Jackson, Mississippi, and the Lord led me through my education. I went to Asbury University for undergraduate, and then Wesley Biblical Seminary for an MA. Then I went to Wheaton College for PhD work, which, of course, is where you and I met. Then the Lord opened up this job at Ohio Christian University. Right after that, I am married to Isabella. She’s from Honduras, and we have one son, Paul. I’m an ordained elder in the Church of the Nazarene. So, I am both a biblical scholar, but I also have a pastoral piece to my calling as well. And I do have some interest outside of writing and teaching. In high school I was a competitive power lifter, and I play piano and guitar as well. Transcribed by https://otter.ai – 2 – 

David Capes 

Well, you’ve written a terrific book entitled Gospel Birth Narratives and Historiography. The subtitle is Reopening a Closed Case. It’s published by Baylor University Press. It’s a really impressive book. Congratulations on it. First of all, let’s talk a little bit about it. What’s the big idea of the book? What are you trying to do here? 

Caleb Friedeman 

Well, as the subtitle implies, the Gospel birth narratives have really been a closed case when it comes to historical Jesus scholarship, for quite some time, I’d say. Easily, reaching back five to six decades, and maybe even longer. Just as one sounding on that, if you do a run through major books on the historical Jesus over the last 40-50, years, you’ll be hard pressed to find a substantive discussion of Jesus’s birth and childhood, even in significant, lengthy monographs. And sometimes, if you do find any kind of discussion, it’s simply to say why they’re disregarding the material. We do have these two birth narratives in Matthew 1-2 to and Luke 1-2, but scholars typically haven’t taken them very seriously. And so I try to dig into that in the book, and I distinguish between two things, two kinds of skepticism you can have toward a source. 

One is skepticism of intent, which is basically to say, I don’t think that this source is intended to be historical. For example, if someone is trying to reconstruct the historical person Don Quixote, using the novel Don Quixote, then you might protest that this source is not intended to be historical. So, you’re just off on the wrong foot from the beginning. But the other kind of skepticism would be skepticism of truth. So that basically says, I recognize that this source is intended to be historical. I just don’t think that it’s correct at a given point. 

If you look at those two, they’re both valid, and they’re both very important to use at certain points if we’re trying to do historiography. But skepticism of intent is a lot more efficient if you can pull it off. Which is to say, if I can convince you that what you’re looking at is more like Don Quixote or Goldilocks or something, than it is like Thucydides or some other historian or some historical biography, then we don’t really need to discuss the historicity of individual events. Because we’re just not dealing with that kind of a source. 

And what I basically suggest in the introduction to the book is that the unique skepticism the scholars have leveled at the gospel birth narratives really is unique. I don’t know of another part of the gospels that we disregard in that way. That unique skepticism really depends on the skepticism of intent, because it’s hard to produce truth-oriented reasons that would justify ignoring historical sources in that way. And interestingly, you have had a good number of scholars, who really articulated a skepticism of intent. Even people like John Meyer, for example, doesn’t think that the birth stories are intended to be historical, necessarily. 

David Capes 

So, you have these two kinds of skepticism. Both can be useful in their own way when you’re dealing with the right kind of material, as you articulate. Since Richard Burridge’s work on the Gospels, a lot of Transcribed by https://otter.ai – 3 – 

people accept the idea the Gospels are meant to be an ancient kind of biography. That means they are intended to be taken as historical. 

Caleb Friedeman 

Yes, and I think Burridge and that whole trend of recognizing the Gospels are ancient biographies is really where my project starts. And interestingly, one of the things that I agree with scholars, whom I disagree overall with, is the fact that the Gospels are ancient biographies. And certainly, if not that, at least that ancient biographies give us the best comparisons for how we should be reading the gospels. One thing that’s interesting is, if you look at scholars who have made these kinds of arguments for why birth material should be regarded as legendary or, ahistorical, they’re typically appealing to ancient biographies. 

You might say the argument goes something like this. From the other side, the side that I’m pushing back against scholars will say something like this: birth material, or birth stories in ancient biographies was not intended to be historical. The Gospel birth narratives are in ancient biographies, and so the gospel birth narratives also are not meant to be historical. 

I basically take that argument on and say, I’ll grant you that we’re dealing with ancient biographies here and that that needs to be the backdrop. But I actually disagree on all points. I basically say, let’s start with ancient biographies and look and see how it seems like their authors intended them to be read. My argument is basically birth material in ancient biographies was intended to be historical. And as ancient biographies, then the birth material that we find in the gospels, like in Matthew 1-2 and Luke 1-2 is also intended to be historical. I spend the first part of the book dealing with a range of different ancient biographers and looking at how they write their birth material. And then I get into the gospel birth narratives in part 2. 

David Capes 

Let’s talk about some of those historians, or historical figures that you’re talking about. Give us a bit of a rundown. 

Caleb Friedeman 

I’m basically looking for biographers who wrote within a century of the Gospels on either side. And I’m also looking ideally for biographers who have written more than one biography that has birth material we can look at because a sample size of only one biography for an author isn’t the most helpful. I end up going with Cornelius Nepos, and he is actually our first Roman biographer. And then I do Philo, who only has one biography, his Life of Moses. But that has been such a major player in these discussions. Because it’s our only Jewish biography at all that it’s worth dealing with, even given that we only have the one. And then I also do Plutarch. Of course, many people are going to be familiar with Plutarch’s Lives, and those are some of our most important sources for reconstructing what ancient biography was like. And then I do Suetonius as well. I spend a chapter on each of those authors. 

Just a little bit of the backstory of this book too. I mentioned earlier that there are these scholars who are making these cases about ancient biographies. When I was getting into scholarship, even preparing for PhD work, I started to read this scholarly literature about gospel birth narratives. And it wasn’t just Transcribed by https://otter.ai – 4 – 

about the historical parts. I was just reading things like Raymond Brown’s Birth of the Messiah and reading a whole range of works about the gospel birth narratives. And I kept encountering this claim by various authors that this material wasn’t intended to be historical. They were citing ancient biographies to back this up. And at some point, I just said to myself, okay, I want to go read this stuff for myself and see what’s going on. 

I started reading the kinds of biographies that were cited. For example, Plutarch’s Life of Alexander or Romulus or Suetonius Biography of Augustus. I just kept noticing these features that didn’t really track with the story I’d been told about what these biographies were supposed to be doing. For example, they would do things like cite sources for the information they were giving. Well, that’s an odd thing to do if you’re just writing something that’s meant to be legendary. I don’t find a lot of source citation in fairy tales. I would see something like that, or I would find a biographer mentioning differences among their sources. There are three accounts of how this happened. Here’s how the first one goes. Here’s how the second one goes. Here’s how the third one goes. And then they might even go further and say, and I’m going to evaluate these and tell you which one I think is the most accurate or truthful. Or maybe I’ll come up with my own reconstruction of what’s going on. 

And then one last thing is they would sometimes distance themselves from more miraculous or supernatural kinds of claims, or just more fantastic kinds of things. What I mean by distancing is basically putting distance between their authorial reputation and the claim that’s being made. Instead of simply asserting that, a God had intercourse with the subject’s mother and then that led to this person being born. They might say it is said that and then give the tradition. Plutarch might not want to be held accountable for that material, but it allows him to pass on this information into sources without taking responsibility for it, which again, indicates a historiographic consciousness. 

Those four things that I just mentioned, I call those historiographic features, and they’re the basis of the analysis in this book. Those would be sources. And by that, I mean citation of sources in some form or indication that an author has sources. And then transparency, that’s where you note differences between accounts. Then evaluation, where you evaluate the trustworthiness of those accounts, and then distancing, where you distance your reputation from a claim. I basically use those as at least one key part of my analysis when I get to these ancient biographers, and then also when I talk about the gospel birth narratives in part two. 

David Capes 

You have these criteria that you’ve looked at and evaluating. Now, Plutarch writes, in his Lives, I think about 50 plus different people. But he doesn’t give birth narratives to everyone right? 

Caleb Friedeman 

Correct! 

David Capes 

So, birth narratives aren’t necessarily a given feature of every biography. 

Caleb Friedeman Transcribed by https://otter.ai – 5 – 

Yes, that’s right. I would say some people have failed to notice that, and other folks have noticed that, but failed to consider the significance. One of the things that I talk about for Cornelius Nepos, Plutarch and Suetonius, because that’s the only place where you have the opportunity to talk about absence. Because obviously Philo has got birth material, so he’s not going to have absence because he has no other biography. When I am looking at these authors that have multiple ancient biographies, one of the things I talk about is how we make sense of the absence of birth material from their biographies. 

So not only do we find historiographic features in the birth material of many of these biographies, we also find that many of their biographies don’t have any birth material at all, or that the amount varies a lot. In some cases, you might have only a line or a sentence or two on somebody, or just even a very short sentence, if they’re just spinning all this out of whole cloth, and they don’t need any sources. They’re just making stuff up. Why not just have the same amount of birth material for everyone, or have the amount of birth material scale to how much they like the figure that they’re writing about. Which, again, just doesn’t seem to be the case. 

You find all kinds of places where you don’t have that kind of scaling. For example, I believe Thrasybulus is one of Cornelius Nepos favorite subjects, and he doesn’t give him birth material. Why? If all this stuff is meant to be is some sort of legendary, non-historical anticipation of what this person is going to become as an adult. It just doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense. I think that the better explanation for that absence is actually that the reason we have absence, in some cases, is either because the biographer lacks sources, which is the kind of problem a historian or a historical biographer would have for sure. Or the information in their sources just wasn’t relevant or interesting enough to include. But what that really keeps out of bounds is the idea that, they’re just making this stuff up. 

David Capes 

Yes. I like that. I think that’s an important part of the argument. Now, what we find too, in the New Testament is that Mark begins and has no birth narrative. And same thing is said of the Gospel of John as well. There’s not really a birth narrative. There’s a theological prologue in GJohn that talks about his pre-existence. But that seems to be of a different class than saying the things that you say in these birth narrative 

Caleb Friedeman 

Yes, I would say the fact that Mark and John don’t have what we might call a birth narrative proper has actually become a lot less surprising to me the more that I’ve studied ancient biographies Because you just begin to recognize this is not a requirement or even a norm necessarily that you’re going to have these. There are too many exceptions to say that this was a universal requirement, or even something that was odd to leave out. 

Just for example, as you look across those four authors that I mentioned, Nepos, Philo, Plutarch and Suetonius, I analyze 95 biographies from those authors. I can only discuss so many of those in detail in the chapters, but I give tables at the end of the book in appendixes that actually give an analysis of historiographic features of things like omens and miracles if they’re there. Then something called time elapsed, which we can come back to. But I give my analysis and those tables at the back. Transcribed by https://otter.ai – 6 – 

If you go through and look, I also talk about where the birth material actually is in each life. I think it’s 18 of the 95 that don’t have any birth material whatsoever. And then that’s even being very gracious, because I’m counting things like, if there’s a sentence that pertains to the person’s childhood or birth. I’m including that as birth material. So on that count, actually, if you were to grant that any kind of claim about someone’s childhood or birth counts as birth material, then you might say that Mark and John have a little bit because, you’ll find a mention about being the son of Mary or the son of Joseph. 

David Capes 

And it’d not necessarily in the first chapter or the first writing that you encounter, but you encounter in the story that he has brothers and sister and those types of things. 

Caleb Friedeman 

And by the way, if you want to say, let’s not count that kind of stuff, and you then had a harder line analysis for all these other ancient biographies that I deal with. Well, you might end up saying that a lot more than 18 don’t have birth material. 

David Capes 

Yes, exactly. 

Caleb Friedeman 

I just say that I think what we find as you cross the four Gospels and whether or not they have birth material is within the range of what we’d expect for ancient biographies. I don’t think that it’s particularly unusual that Mark and John don’t have a birth narrative, and then that Matthew and Luke do. 

David Capes 

I guess the bottom line is that ancient biographies, when they did talk about birth material, their intention was to say, I’m writing history here, and I’m making judgments about that history. And so when we come to the Gospels, we can say that at least the intention of Matthew and the intention of Luke is to say that I’m writing history here. Not only in the things that Jesus said and did as an adult, but also in the stories of his origins, the stories of his family. Even those that are interlaced with some dream interpretation and visions and those kinds of things. 

Caleb Friedeman 

I think that’s exactly right. And I guess the way that I would put it is Matthew and Luke and other ancient biographers wrote their birth material with historiographic intent. That’s to say that they didn’t have a unique approach to this material vis a vis other parts of their biographies. All I’m really saying is we need to read this material the same way we would read anything else in a nature biography. Instead of treating it as a special case, we just should approach it with the same kinds of assumptions that we approach their accounts of the person’s adulthood. And that should be self-evident, but I think it hasn’t been in scholarship, and that has generated the need for this kind of book. 

In addition to historiographic features and the absence of birth material that I look at, I also look at a couple other elements. One is their use of supernatural elements. Here I include both omens, which are Transcribed by https://otter.ai – 7 – 

things that today we might call coincidences, but the people in ancient times often saw significance to. You would maybe have a coincidence, and then you would interpret it in a certain way. So that would be something like an omen. Then you actually have supernatural events, which you might call miracles, where the biographer is actually affirming that something happens. One thing that’s really interesting coming out of that is that number one, you really don’t find biographers typically making miracle claims in birth material a lot. 

Usually, if they’re going to relate something supernatural, I would say the vast majority of the time, they’re going to include a historiographic feature that’s going to either distance them from it or make it just an act of transparency, where I have this in my sources. But it’s actually fairly rare to find a biographer affirming that kind of stuff. The number of supernatural claims that you find in birth material and these four ancient biographers that I deal with is actually fairly minimal. 

The other thing that’s interesting that I look at is the time elapsed between the subject’s birth, and when the biographer is writing the biography. And obviously it’s a little hard to analyze that, because you don’t know exactly when these things were published or and it’s even harder to say when the research began. When did Plutarch begin researching this person’s life? But I do that kind of calculus, just as a broad way of making a comparison. If you look across those four authors and their biographies, what I find is that the average time elapsed across all 95 biographies from those four biographers is over 360 years. 

David Capes 

Wow, that’s a long time. 

Caleb Friedeman 

That’s the kind of remove that they’re operating in. And. It doesn’t tell you anything about their intention, but it does tell you something about the kinds of sources they would have had available to them, or that they wouldn’t have had available to them. For example, in very, very few, if any cases, are these four biographers, outside the Gospels, going to have access to eyewitness sources, or even to family members of the person. Or people who knew eyewitnesses well. 360 years. Then you do a comparison to Matthew and Luke, and it becomes really interesting. 

But I just wanted to mention those two things, because they are pretty important for part one of the book. What all that does I think, is resituates the burden of proof when you get to the gospel birth narrative. If ancient biographers tended to write their birth material intended to be historical, then that means that if we’re going to deny that for Matthew and Luke, we need to have really good reasons why. But prior to that kind of analysis, I think many people would have said, well, you need to have extraordinary reasons to think that Matthew and Luke did intend their birth material to be historical. And I’m saying actually no, it’s the other way around. 

David Capes 

Yes. There are certain assumptions driving scholarship very often. And I’m curious what your conclusions were about the time between the events of the birth of Jesus and then the writing of that. You’re not talking about 360 years. You’re talking about, in some cases, maybe 60 years later, or 70 Transcribed by https://otter.ai – 8 – 

years later. There are some that would date Luke, and Matthew, or both into the second century. But more and more, it’s interesting to note that people are actually beginning to date the Gospels a bit earlier than they were just even a few years ago. This is really fascinating. You’ve done a fantastic job. We’re talking to Caleb Friedeman about his book, Gospel Birth Narratives in Historiography: Reopening a Closed Case. So, is it closed again, or is it still open? What do you think? 

Caleb Friedeman 

Well, I guess the case that I want to open is actually talking about the historical value of what Matthew and Luke are saying about Jesus’s birth and childhood. I think the reason it’s reopening a closed case is because it’s saying these are historical sources that we need to analyze as historical sources. As opposed to simply dismissing them as being legendary or non-historical. The analysis that you still need, or where the scholarship still needs to be done, is to say, if they’re intended to be historical, how well do they achieve that? I would say, by and large, scholars haven’t really even been asking that question for several decades. You might be able to find a few exceptions to that, but I would say by and large, we really haven’t been asking the question about truth. If we’re talking about intent and truth, I think I’ve done my best to answer the intent question in this book. Now the truth question remains, where I’d like to see us do more work. 

David Capes 

Dr Caleb Friedeman has been with us today to talk about his book, Gospel Birth Narratives in Historiography: Reopening a Closed Case. It’s a fascinating book, an important contribution to the study of the New Testament and of the life of Jesus, the historical Jesus. He is reopening a case that has been closed on many accounts. Thanks for being with us today. Dr Friedeman. 

Caleb Friedeman 

Thanks, David. It’s been great to be here. 

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No Inn in Which to Have No Room, with Ben Witherington III

Dr. Ben Witherington III argues passionately against burnishing the nativity stories of Luke and Matthew with unfounded speculation and mistranslations. He gives particular attention to the story of Jesus’ birth in Luke 2:7. Prof. Witherington is the Jean R. Amos Professor of New Testament for Doctoral Studies at Asbury Theological Seminary and is an emeritus professor of New Testament at St. Andrews University, Scotland. He has published widely including commentaries on every book of the New Testament. Two of his books won the Christianity Today annual top biblical studies book award: The Jesus Quest: The Third Search for the Jew of Nazareth and The Paul Quest: The Renewed Search for the Jew of Tarsus. His Biblical Theology; The Convergence of the Canon (Cambridge) won the Prose Prize National Book of the Year award in 2020 for books in religion and philosophy.

To hear the podcast (12 min) click here.

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Intertextual Echoes in the Matthean Baptismal Narrative

I published the following article in 1999, but I have requests for it from time to time. I hope you find it helpful. Unfortunately, in the version that came across the Greek has been turned into English characters. One day I’ll go in and clean it up, but not today!

Bulletin for Biblical Research 9 (1999) 37-49

Intertextual Echoes in the Matthean Baptismal Narrative

DAVID B. CAPES

Matthew’s story of Jesus’ baptism provides evidence of an “Immanuel” (“God with us”) Christology. In particular the first evangelist redacts Mark’s account and envisages Jesus as an apocalyptic prophet according to the order of Ezekiel. Moreover, the opening of the heavens and descent of the Spirit echoIsaiah 63-64 and portray Jesus as God’s answer to the petition longing for his presence and redemption. The dove image appears to have two intertextual functions: (1) to construe Jesus‘ baptism as the end of judgment and the beginning of new creation through the recollection of Noah’s deliverance, and (2) to signal Jesus’ role as sufferer through a lesser­ known image of the dove as a symbol for God‘s suffering people.

Key Words: intertextuality, Matthew, baptism (of Jesus), Christology, apocalyptic, Holy Spirit

In The Theology of the Gospel of Matthew Ulrich Luz suggests that the First Gospel should be read as an extended inclusio bracketed at the beginning by the “Immanuel” motif, “God with us,” and at the end by Jesus’ promise, “behold, I am with you always.”1 The Immanuel motif, he notes, demonstrates that Matthew’s Christology takes on a coherent, narrative shape that cannot be contained in static titles or concepts; it is worked out through the story itself. In the end, Luz believes, Matthew’s Gospel advances a Christology “from above”- namely that, in Jesus, God acts. For Matthew, Luz writes,”Jesus is an occurrence of God.”2

Luz presents a persuasive argument, particularly when inter­ preting the Gospel canonically. He isable to show how the Immanuel

  1. Ulrich Luz, The Theology of the Gospel of Matthew (trans. J. Bradford Robinson; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,1995) 4-5.
  2. Ibid., 31-33.

38                     Bulletin for Biblical Research 9

motif influences the pericope and drives.Matthew’s portrait of Jesus. Yet due to the nature of Luz’s book, the author can give only scant attention to any story. His proposal, therefore, begs treatment on the level of individual episodes.

Matthew’s story of Jesus’ baptism (3:13-17) provides an excellent laboratory to test Luz’s proposition. If forMatthew Jesus is an oc­ currence of God and this Christology is worked out in narrative and not titles, readingMatthew’s episode from this perspective may yield rich results. In what follows, this article will analyze Matthew’snar­ rative of Jesus’ baptism with a view to its Immanuel Christology. In particular, it will concentrate on the visionaryaspects of the passage­ namely, the opening of the heavens and the descent of the Spirit like a dove. In recognition ofthe important role played by scripture in apocalyptic visions and dreams, it will investigate these theophanic symbols as possible “echoes” of OT-and perhaps other-passages and images.3 Assuming Marean priority, it will show that the evan­ gelist alters Mark by utilizing an established “symbolic field” co6.ified in Israel’s scripture.Through the recollection of Israel’s past, its antic­ ipated future, and their linkage with the story of Jesus as “Imman­ uel,” the reader can appreciate more fully the narrative’s evocations.

I

The Synoptic Gospels relate the story of Jesus’ baptism at the begin­ ning of his public ministry (Matt 3:13-17; Mark1:9-11; Luke 3:21-22). While the Fourth Gospel (John 1:29-34) does not contain this account, it neverthelessappears implicitly in the Baptist’s witness to Jesus as the one upon whom the Spirit descends from heaven like a dove and remains. The absence of this narrative in John may be deliberate, as Stephen Gero notes, given the author’s interest in decreasing the significance of the Baptist.4 At any rate, for the evangelists, Jesus’ baptism marks the turning point in his life. Moreover, the opening of the heavens, the descent of the Spirit, and the heavenly voice’s dec­ laration 0f his Sonship proclaim God’s election of Jesus as his escha­ tological emissary of theKingdom.

The baptismal story has been interpreted in a number of ways. There are variations on these, of course, but discussion here will focus on two. First, some interpret this account as an historical event

  • Richard Hays, Echoes of Scripture in the Letters of Paul (New Haven: Yale Uni­ versity Press, 1989), offers an importantmodel for this study.
  • Stephen Gero, “The Spirit as a Dove at the Baptism of Jesus,” NovT 18 (1976) 17-35.

CAPES: Intertextual Echoes                             39

which the church embellished with mythological details (e.g., the opening of the heavens, the descent of the dove, the divine voice). These symbols serve to infuse the account with power, mystery and transcendence, magnifying the significance of Jesus to its implied audience.5 To my mind there are few serious objections to the con­ clusion that John did baptize Jesus and that this event did propel him into public, itinerant ministry.6 This is all the more likely given the apparent embarrassment that a lesser, John, baptizes one greater, Jesus. The absence of Jesus’ baptism by John in the Fourth Gospel as well as John’s initial statement forbidding it (Matt 3:13-14) appear to testify to this uneasiness. Second, others interpret this account as an historical event in which Jesus had an apocalyptic vision.7 Following his immersion, he saw the heavens opened and God’s Spirit descend in dove-like fashion on him and he heard a heavenly voice. James Dunn suggests that Jesus’ baptism occasioned an experience of God which, for Jesus, had immense import, themost striking of which was the Nazarene’s experience of the Spirit and cognizance of his unique t Sonship.8

There appears to be no route through the impasse. Either you

have an ecclesiastical invention designed to enlarge the stature of Jesus or you have an apocalyptic Jesus, a seer and transmitter of visions.9 Both conclusions offer significant discomfort for reading communi­ ties, be they conservative Christians or the Jesus Seminar. But dis­ comfort has never stopped the academy before, and it is not likely to stop it now.

The present investigation is not so much addressed to the Jesus of history or the Jesus of the nondescript early church; it is intended rather, to reflect on the account as narrated in the Matthean Gospel. In Matthew these fabulous, attendant phenomena arise as divine manifestations within an apocalyptic vision. It is this reading which provides the most satisfying and coherent narrative. This is not to say that Jesus himself was a thoroughgoing apocalypticist or that the early church wished to portray him as such. But it is to say thatthe

  • F. W. Beare, The Gospel according to Matthew (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1981) 99, remarks that these elements derive from the “realm of myth” and reflect a naive cosmology.
  • James Dunn, Jesus and the Spirit: A Study of the Religious and Charismatic Expe­ rience of Jesus and the First Christians as Reflected in the New Testament (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1975) 62.
  • Ben Witherington, The Christology o!Jesus (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990) 148-49.
  • Dunn, Jesus and the Spirit, 65.
  • Witherington, The Christology of Jesus, 151-52. If this is the content of an apoc­ alyptic vision, it must go back to Jesus himself.

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NT documents “suggest that on certain.occasions Jesus did receive vi­ sions which resemble the visions ofapocalyptic.”10

As is well known, the apocalyptic literary genre eludes adequate definition or illustration. To address this issue, in 1979 John J. Collins edited volume 14 of Semeia entitled, Apocalypse: The Morphology of a Genre. Therein Collins and a number of others grappled with the elusive nature of apocalyptic thought en route to a useful definition. Collins offered the following comprehensive definition:

“Apocalypse” is a genre of revelatory literature with a narrative framework, in which a revelation is mediated by anotherworldly being to a human recipient, disclosing a transcendent reality which is both temporal insofar as itenvis­ ages eschatological salvation, and spatial insofar as it involves another, super­ natural world.11

This definition appears well suited to the present study and suggests that one should see Matthew’s baptismal narrative as a piece of apocalyptic literature. First, the account is clearly mediated through a narrative framework both within and without the pericope. Sec­ ond, it provides revelation to Jesus of Nazareth and those who wit­ nessedhis baptism. Third, otherworldly entities-that is, the Spirit and the heavenly voice-convey the revelation. Fourth, the baptism and vision occur within a narrative framework which from first to last envisages God’s actions in Jesusto offer eschatological salvation. Fifth, it portrays the above-below spatial dichotomy via the descent of the Spirit and the voice from above. Since the Gospel baptismal narrative contains these elements, one may reasonably classify this story as one example of early Christian apocalypses.

Visions provide the landscape of apocalyptic literature. Among the fifteen Jewish apocalypses studied in Semeia14, fourteen contain visions.12 In the NT, Revelation, the only thoroughgoing apocalyptic book, contains numerous visions leading up to God’s final visitation. But within these visions, what is seen, how it is understood, and how it isconveyed often originate from the pages of the Hebrew Bible. Although apocalyptic literature contains few explicit quotations, it

10: Christopher Rowland, The Open Heaven: A Study of Apocalyptic in Judaism and Early Ozristianity (New York: Crossroad,1982) 358. On another occasion (Luke 10:17- 20) Jesus sees a vision in which Satan falls from heaven. On apocalyptic beliefs, prac­ tices, and literature in Jewish, Greek, and Roman contexts during the hellenistic era, see David Aune, The New Testament in Its Literary Environment (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1987) 226-40.

  1. John J. Collins, Apocalypse: Morphology of a Genre (Semeia 14; Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1979) 9, italics theirs.
    1. Ibid., 28.

CAPES:  Intertextual Echoes                                             41

abounds in symbols and imagery drawn from the OT and reinvested with significance for the present.13 As Rowland writes:

This shows how a mind saturated in the scriptures can utilize the imagery to express the character of thevision. There is no conscious attempt to quote Scripture. It is just the case that the many facets of the Bible, especially those with a visionary content, tend to determine the way in which the visionary expresses his experience verbally.14

Since Matthew’s account of Jesus’ baptism represents an apocalyptic vision and since apocalyptic accounts mine the OT for imagery and symbols to express the vision’s content, what Jesus saw, how he under­ stood it, and how he conveyed it must be interpreted in light of its intertextual relationships.

II

It is likely that Mark contains the earliest, original story of Jesus’ bap- t tism which the other Gospelwriters know and use with slight alterations. While Matthew’s and Mark’s version agreesignificantly, there are a few differences worthy of notation including: (1) Matthew adds t8ou(“Behold!”) to the visionary aspects of the story; (2) he changes Mark’s ax1t;oµevooc; woe; oupavouc;(“the heavens were split”)

· to 1′)vi:cpx011aav oi oupavoi (“the heavens were opened”); (3) he writes that Jesus saw the “Spirit of God”while Mark simply has the “Spirit”;

(4) he alters Mark’s phrase, the Spirit comes down “into him” (de; au- 1:6v), to say that the Spirit comes upon him (i’m’ au1:6v); and (5) he changes the heavenly voice to say, “This is my Son, the beloved, in whom I am well pleased” from Mark’s more personal “You are my Son, the beloved, in you I am well pleased.” This latter change, prob­ ably the most well known, functions within the story to direct the voice to spectators in attendance at Jesus’ baptism. In effect, God de­ clares to them that Jesus is his beloved Son. But for Matthew’s read­ ers and hearers in the first century and beyond, it functions as a declaration of the ongoing significance of Jesus as Immanuel, “God with us,” the one who promised to be “with you always, even to the end of the age.”

The Matthean alterations noted above were not stylistic matters. The evangelist was not merelyattempting to smooth out Mark’s brash

  1. N. T. Wright, The New Testament and the People of God (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1991) 280-81. Krister Stendahl, The School of St. Matthew (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1968; reprint, Ramsey, N.J.: Sigler, 1991) 158.
    1. Rowland, Open Heaven, 361.

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and exaggerated approach; rather they carried significant intertex­ tual import. Matthew, it seems, deliberately changes Mark’s state­ ment, axti;;oµevouc; ·rnu<;otipavou<; (“the heavens were split”), to read TJVEQlX0ricrav oi otipavoi (“the heavens were opened”). The reason for this: Matthew envisages Jesus’ experience as an apocalyptic seer against the record of another prophet and seer, Ezekiel.15 Numerous verbal and conceptual links draw these accounts together so they can be read against the other. First, both apocalyptic moments take place beside a river (Ezek 1:1: tn’t 10u 11:01aµou 10u Xo ap; Matt 3:13: tnl 10v ‘Iopocivriv). Second, both take place against the backdrop of exile (Babylonian for Ezekiel; Roman for Jesus). Third, both visionary ac­ counts begin similarly:

Ezekiel: Matthew:

iJvoixericrav Ol otipavoi, KUL dfov opci.crct<; 0EOU T]VEQlX0TJcrav oi otipavoi., Kal Ei8Ev nvEuµa 0rnu

Fourth, in both accounts the seers receive the revelatory w rd of God (Ezekiel 1: Eyevno A6yo<; Kupiou; Matt 3:17: <pcov17 EK,wv otipavwv). Therein, Ezekiel is addressed as “the Son of man” (2:1); Jesus is introduced as “the Son of God.” Fifth, the Spirit comes upon both men (Ezek 2:1: tn‘ tµe 11:VEiiµa; Matt3:16: nvi::uµa 0rnu … En’ ati16v). Finally, for both men this experience alters the directions of their lives; hereafter both will preach and perform through prophetic actions God’s message to Israel (Ezek 2:3: “the house of Israel”; Matt 10:6: “the lost sheep of the house of Israel”). Matthew, it seems, desires to relate the inauguration of Jesus into public life via reflection on the record of Ezekiel.

This perspective accounts for another change; Matthew adds the interjection “Behold!” (lfou) to thevisionary account twice to accord with its frequent occurrence in Ezekiel’s vision (e.g., Ezek 1:4, 15, 25). Inaddition to its intertextual significance, the word serves to enliven the narrative and underscore this new andextraordinary moment for the Nazarene.

Ezekiel, of course, had already become the prototype seer and the phrase “the heavens opened” had become well entrenched in visionary texts (Isa 64:1; Acts 7:56; 10:11; Rev 4:1; 19:11; 3 Mace 6:18; T. Levi 18:6-7; T. Jud. 24:2). This perspective was no doubt available for Matthew to use in his rendering of Jesus’ experience to his commu­ nity. It appears, in fact, that this formula had developed into a topos andcontained the following elements: (1) a passive verb or verbal of civoiyco with no agency expressed,certainly divine agency implied;

  1. Robert Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on His Handbook for a Mixed Church under Persecution (2d ed.; Grand Rapids,Mich.: Eerdmans, 1994) 52.

CAPES: Intertextual Echoes                             43

(2) a reference to heaven or the gates of heaven in singular or plural form; and (3) a verb form of seeing,doov or 81:wpiw, representing the seer’s experience. Attendant with this basic description might also havebeen reference to a heavenly voice and/or the word loou, mark­ ing this as a significant moment in the narrative. So it appears that these elements became a formula used customarily to convey a vision. Itoriginated-in Greek at least-with Ezekiel’s initial vision. If this is so, Matthew, cognizant of this ongoingpractice, renarrates Mark’s account to accord with this (Ezekielian) tradition.16

Ezekiel does not appear to be the only textual influence upon Matthew’s account. Isa 63:7-64:12 with itspleading for God to “open heaven,” come down, and restore Israel in hope of a new exodus may also resonate in Matthew’s scriptural memory. This psalm of praise and intercession begins (63:7-14) with a recollection of God’s gra­ cious deeds and acts of steadfast love, especially Israel’s deliverance from Egypt. Isa 63:9 reads (NRSV):

It was no messenger or angel but his presence that saved them; in his love and in his pity he redeemedthem;

he lifted them up and carried them all the days of old.17

The poem records that it had been God’s presence that saved them and nothing else. Yet God’s presence is no longer with them due to their sins. It asks (63:llb-13a):

Where is the one who brought them up out of the sea with the shepherds of his flock?

Where is the one who put within them his holy spirit

Who caused his glorious arm to march at the right hand of Moses,

Who divided the waters before them to make for himself an everlasting name,

Who led them through the depths?

Clearly, for the poet God is no longer with his people. He is distant, nowhere to be found. In 63:15-19 the intercessor pleads with God to look down from heaven, be a father again to his people, and turn back to redeem Israel from the afflictions of its enemies. Central to this petition is Isa 64:1 (LXX 63:19) which begs God to open heaven (fov avoi nc; -cov oupav6v) and cause the mountains to tremble as they did at Mt.Sinai. The presence of God would guarantee the safety

  1. The Greek OT contains only two references to the opening of heaven in this way (Ezek l:lff.; Isa 64:1). The translation of Isa 64:1 into a similar formula may result from this influence. Since other NT and noncanonical texts utilize this pattern, I con­ clude it originates with the translation of Ezekiel’s account.
    1. The Greek text reads similarly: “In their afflictions, no messenger, no angel saved them, but the Lord himself through his loveand compassion for them.” John F. A. Sawyer, Isaiah: Volume 2 (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1984) 199-20.

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and security of God’s people and Jerusalem once again. Yet the inter­ cessor recognizes God’s righteous anger and surrenders again to the will of the Lord, “our Father.” He writes (64:8): “we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.” The prayer ends, wondering if God will continue to be silent and thereby punish his people.   •

For Matthew and his church, the prayer for God’s visitation is satisfied by Jesus, the Immanuel presence of God, the one who promises to be with them until the end of the age. Therefore, in the openingof the heavens and the descent of the Spirit Matthew envi­ sions Jesus’ baptism as God’s answer to the prayer of Isaiah 63-64, a prayer pleading for God’s intervention to bring about marvelous deeds like he did of old. Through Jesus this hope, left unsatisfied for so long, had become God’s “Yes” to the prayer ofdeliverance.

This “new exodus” perspective accords well with Matthew’s in­ terest in displaying Jesus as a new Moses. Already in the birth nar­ ratives the evangelist recorded that like Moses the infant Jesus is imperiled by the decree of a king. Already Matthew had chronicled the family’s journey into Egypt and return as thefulfillment of Hos 11:1, “out of Egypt have I called my Son” (cf. Exod 4:22). Later in the Gospel, Jesus, like Moses, will ascend the mountain to deliver his teaching on the will of God for his disciples. Yet, as UlrichLuz points out, Matthew’s story of Jesus not only overlaps, it also subverts the story of Moses:

Egypt, formerly the land of suppression and persecution, is now a land of refuge. It is the King of Israel whonow takes on the role of Pharaoh. The pagan magi, formerly members of Pharaoh’s retinue, are given new rolesand now pay homage to the infant Jesus as the King of Israel. In any event, readers note that Matthew is notsimply retelling the Moses story in a new variant. Instead, the story of Jesus really is a new story; Jesus is at once new Moses and the inverse of Moses.18

In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus represents the Immanuel presence of God. He is more than Moses; he is more akin to the one who opened the heavens, came down on Mt. Sinai, and caused the earth to quake. For Matthew, Jesus’ baptism answers the prayer of Isaiah 63-64 and becomes that moment when God’spresence again visited his people. This reading of Matthew is confirmed by the episodes which follow,episodes which both parallel and subvert Israel’s story. Israel leaves Sinai to spend forty years wandering in the wilderness where God provides bread from heaven to sustain them. Jesus enters the wilderness, where for forty days and nights he fasts and experiences temptation (4:1-2). Though famished, unlike Israel herefuses to eat

  1. Luz, Theologi; of Matthew, 24-25.

CAPES: Intertextual Echoes                             45

the bread of miracle in preference for the tn;_e food of God’s Word (4:3-4; quoting Deut 8:3). In thewilderness Israel consistently tested God and refused to follow him. In contrast Jesus refused to put God to the test (4:7; quoting Deut 6:16). Israel went after other gods in their wanderings (e.g., Exodus 32). Jesus, on the other hand, repudi­ ates the worship of any except the true, living God (4:10; quoting Deut 6:13). It is not coincidental that, in responding to the tempter, Jesus quoted Deuteronomy, a text based on the exodus, Sinai, and wilderness experiences. These quotations suggest that Jesus’ temp­ tation report continues the new exodus motif and should be read against the narrative of Israel’s exodus and wilderness experience. Jesus, as both a new Moses and one greater than Moses, seems to pro­ vide an antithetical reading of Israel’s period in the wilderness and concurrently subverts its story. As God’s Son, he is morethan Israel; he transcends Israel as the one truly obedient Son of God.

This motif appears to continue in the Sermon on the Mount, the first extended discourse by Jesus.Therein he teaches his disciples to” address God in prayer as “our Father” (min,p 11µolY). This address of course is not new; it is contained in the new exodus petition and prayer of Isaiah 63-64. Note Isa 63:17 (NRSV):

For you are our father (LXX [63:16]: i’]µiilv d na1:f]p),

though Abraham does not know us and Israel does not acknowledge us;

you,0 LORD, are our father (LXX: na1:f]p i’]µiilv); our Redeemer from of old is yourname.

Again, the prayer continues (Isa 64:8):

Yet,0 LORD, you are our Father (LXX [64:7]: na1:f]p i’]µiilv), we are the clay, and you areour potter;

we are all the work of your hand.

It must be remembered that the Hebrew Bible seldom addresses God as “father.”19 Nevertheless, the “our Father” address in the prayer of Isaiah 63-64 may have influenced the model prayer offered by Jesus (Matt6:9), for ifl Luke’s parallel account, God is addressed simply as “Father” not “our Father.” One may well conclude that in the model prayer Matthew’s Gospel continues to echo the Isaianic plea, by addressing God as “our Father.”

  1. Claus Westermann, Isaiah 40-66: A CommentanJ (OTL; Philadelphia: Westmin­ ster, 1969) 393, believes the reason thatpreexilic texts do not call God “father” has to do with the fact that in ancient mythology gods often father children via humans. The OT offers an alternative reality wherein mankind is creature not a child. The Isaianic prayer (chaps. 63-64) evidences the apparent liftingof such a theological barrier.

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III

For all its ubiquity in Christian iconography and modern Christian art, the dove continues to evade interpreters. Throughout church history the dove represents the work of the Holy Spirit in the life of Jesus and the church, yet the only reference to a dove in the NT oc­ curs at Jesus’ baptism. In the vision Jesus “saw the Spirit of God de­ scending as if it were a dove and it comes upon him” (Matt 3:16).20 Many interpreters have offered possible sources for this imagery, but consensus has not been achieved. John Moorhead proposes that the descent of the Spirit as a dove recalls Sinai where in the LXX the same word Ka,a aivoo describes God’s descent on the mountain (Exod 19:llff .).21 Moorhead, however, does not answer the question, why a dove? Rowland interprets the dove image in light of new creation imagery. He points to the Babylonian Talmud and Simeon b. Zoma’s meditation on Gen 1:2 (b. I;Iag. 15a) in which the rabbi describes the hovering of the Spirit over the waters as a dove. For Rowland, the new creation motif satisfies the eschatological framework of John, Jesus and the early church; it also appears to explain the dove’s pres­ encein Jesus’ baptism, since this event inaugurates the new creation.22 Rowland’s proposal is attractive, but the latedate of the sources poses a critical problem to this explanation. Stephen Gero, noting extra­ biblical traditions, argues that two sources come together in the Gospel baptismal record. First, there existed a pre-Marean baptismal story eventually codified in the Gospel of Hebrews, which makes no reference to a dove. Second, there also existed another account which included the dove but with no connection to the Spirit (Odes Sol. 24). The Marean redactor, Gero argues, had both at his disposal when composing his Gospel and, wanting to retain all the details, merged them into one story. The dove image, he believes, can be ex­ plained by the recognition that Near Eastern legend and folklore often contain accounts of the descent of birds.Gero, however, never answers the question, why a dove?23 Robert Gundry provides another explanation. Observing that there lacks any accepted interpretation, he favors understanding the dove image as “historical tradition over ecclesiastical invention.”24 Again, however, unless Jesus saw a dove

  • Matthew changes Mark’s cii (“as”) to ciiod (“as if”). This change suggests that the dove refers adverbially to the manner ofdescent and not to the visible appearance of the Spirit. See Gundry, Matthew, 52.
    • John Moorhead, “The Spirit and the World,” The Greek Orthodox Theological Review (Spring-Summer 1983) 114.
    • Rowland, Open Heaven, 361. See also Dale Allison, “The Baptism of Jesus and a New Dead Sea Scroll,” BARev 18 (March-April 1992) 58-60.
    • Gero, “Spirit As a Dove,” 18-19.
    • Gundry, Matthew, 52.

CAPES: Intertextual Echoes                             47

in his vision, why did he refer to the Spirit’s descent “as a dove” and not some other bird?

Since the dove remark appears in a report of an apocalyptic vision and since the source of imagery for a vision originated often within the symbolic world of scripture, the OT itself provides the most favorable answer to the question, why a dove?

Within the biblical record the first mention of a dove occurs in the flood story (Genesis 8).25 Over fourteen days Noah sends out a dove three times to determine if the waters had subsided. The first time the dove returns, finding no place to land. God’s judgment still had not ended. The second time the dove returns with a freshly plucked olive leaf, heralding the nearness of their deliverance. The third time the dove fails toreturn, announcing to Noah and his family that their exile from earth had ended. This story continues to resound in the memories of early Jewish Christians, for in 1 Pet 3:20-21 the author finds in Noah’sdeliverance from the water a prefiguration (civ,humov) of Christian baptism. Furthermore, since God’saddress to Noah’ (Gen 9:1, 7) resembles his commands to the first humans at creation (Gen 1:28), the flood narrative could be construed as a new creation account. As a result, Christians late in the first century interpreted their salvation, actualized in baptism, in light of Noah’s story of de­ liverance and new creation. Perhaps Jesus, the evangelists, and the early church utilized the dove, resonating within the denouement of Noah’s story, to construe Jesus’ baptism as the end of judgment, the reversal of exile, the new creation, and the opportunity to herald the good news of God’s presence and Kingdom.

Another possibility exists to explain the presence of the dove in Jesus’ apocalyptic vision. Yet it doesnot arise from a coherent story. It arises from various suggestive texts in Jewish tradition regarding the dove. The locus for one such example is Psalm 74, a communal lament pleading with God to remember hiscongregation. A foe had vanquished them and razed the temple to the ground. Now the con­ gregation begsGod to regard the covenant and reverse the shame of his people. The key verse for consideration here is74:19:

Do not deliver the soul of your dove to the wild animals; Do not forget the life of your poor forever.

In this poignant passage God’s harassed people are called “your dove” and “your poor.” Enemies had overpowered them, subjugating and humiliating them in the face of the nations. Now rather than suffer

  • Jehuda Feliks, “Dove,” EncJud 6.184-85, mentions other scriptural signifi­cance including: (1) the law permits the eating of doves, (2) the law prescribes the dove as the offering of the poor and the Nazirites (Lev 5:7; Num 6:10), and (3) the dove sym­bolizes beauty, innocence, and purity (e.g., Cant 1:15; 2:14; 5:2).

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any longer, God’s dove, God’s poor cry out to him: “Have regard for your covenant” (Ps 74:20).

Second Esdras uses the dove image in similar fashion. In the second vision (5:21-6:34), the seercomplains that God has delivered Israel over into the hands of its enemies. He characterizes Israel using symbols derived from the OT. He likens Israel to a tree, a lily, a river, a city. Then he writes (5:26): “from all birds that have been created you have named for yourself one dove, and from all the flocks that have beenmade you have provided for yourself one sheep.” He con- tinues (5:28): “And now,0 Lord, why have youhanded the one over to the many, and dishonored the one root beyond the others, and scattered your only one among the many?” Here the seer refers to Israel as the one dove, the one handed over to the many, and asks, “Why, Lord?” In both Psalms and 2 Esdras, the dove becomes a sym­ bol of God’s injured, desperate people, handed over to its enemies. The dove, though pure and innocent, cannot withstand the power of its adversaries. Interestingly, another, later Jewish text ech’oes the same view: “There is none among the birds more persecuted than doves” (b. B. Qam. 93a).

The dove therefore came to symbolize Israel in all its sufferings at the hands of its enemies. If Jesus and the evangelists are aware of this representation, the dove’s presence in the baptismal story signals for Jesushis role as sufferer. Only he sees the Spirit’s flight as a dove. While the crowds in Matthew hear the heavenlyvoice declaring him God’s Son, Jesus alone sees the vision. Jesus alone catches its sig­ nificance; He willsuffer at the hands of his enemies, the one will be handed over to the many. If Jesus personifies Israel-as Matthew apparently signals in 2:15, “Out of Egypt I have called my Son”-he must then live his life in congruity with Israel, God’s suffering people. For Jesus to fulfill Israel’s story, there can be no other path except suffering. As the Gospel record will show, he will suffer and be rejected by his enemies, yet also in the plan of God.

This reading makes perfect sense of all that follows. The Spirit drives Jesus into the wilderness for fasting and the adversary tempts him to bypass his appointed task. Yet Jesus refuses to veer off course and abandon the road of suffering lying ahead. He addresses his dis­ ciples warning them of persecutions and mistreatments like Israel’s prophets had faced. At the high watermark of the Gospel, when the disciplesconfess him to be “Son of the living God” (Matt 16:16), Jesus remarks that this is not theirs; it is the Father’s revelation. As the hu­ man voice of the disciples echoes the heavenly voice at baptism, Jesus remembers his vision, sees again the Spirit descend like a dove, and recalls his appointed path of suffering. Consequently, Jesus begins to declare to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem, be rejected and

CAPES: Intertextual Echoes                             49

mistreated at the hands of elders, chief priests, and scribes. As the story unfolds, Jesus travels willingly toward Jerusalem and the suf­ fering that awaits him.

IV

For Matthew the life of Jesus represents a new work of God in recent history. Yet the evangelist sees it as part of a continuum of divine activity, indeed the fulfillment of Israel’s hopes and aspirations. The opening of the heavens and the Spirit’s descent as a dove in Mat­ thew’s baptismal story are best understood aselements of an apoca­ lyptic vision which reoriented Jesus’ life. These images belonged originally to thesymbolic world of Israel’s sacred texts. Matthew in­ tentionally alters Mark’s account, thereby amplifying his own pro­ phetic voice via linkage with the OT story. Utilizing a recognized vision formula, the evangelist portrays Jesus as the end-time, apoc­ alyptic prophet according to the order of Ezekiel. He sees visions, preaches and acts out his message to a rebellious people. At the same time he understands the Nazarene to beGod’s answer to the petition of Isaiah 63-64, a prayer yearning for the heavens to open and God’s presence to once again visit Israel as in the days of Moses. For Mat­ thew Jesus is “Immanuel,” “God with us,” the divine “Yes” to human longings. Furthermore, because the hope for a new exodus perme­ ates the prayer in Isaiah 63-64, Jesus not only represents Israel and Moses, he transcends them by his righteous obedience. This new exodus perspective carries through the Gospel in other accounts and sayings of Jesus, particularly the “Our Father” of the Sermon on the Mount. The Spirit’s descent as a dove continues to echo OT and extra­ canonical passages. The dove appears to recall the final episode of Noah’s deliverance, announcing the end of God-imposed exile and ushering in the new creation. For the evangelist, the arrival of Jesus sounded the final chords of judgment and heralded the beginning of God’s new creation. Accordingly, the story of Noah’s ark became inextricably linked with Christian baptism. Moreover, biblical and extrabiblical sourcesreveal that the dove could symbolize God’s suf­ fering people and likely signaled to Jesus his role as sufferer. In the final analysis this investigation supports Luz’s contention that the Immanuel motif governs the First Gospel and that the evangelist expresses his Christology “from above” through a story embedded with scripture and not merely through titles.

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The Grandmothers of Jesus with Amy Peeler

Dr. Amy Peeler is Associate Professor of New Testament at Wheaton College and Graduate School. Her research has concentrated in the Letter to the Hebrews, Paul and Gender, and the Gospel of Mark. She has contributed previous episodes to this podcast, and among her publications is Hebrews: An Introduction and Study Guide. Today’s topic: The presence and the selection of the women in Matthew’s opening genealogy is a call to reflection. How do their stories contribute to the story of Jesus and the world he came to save from its sins?

To hear the podcast (8 minutes) click here.

“Exegetically Speaking” is a weekly podcast of the friends and faculty of Wheaton College, IL and The Lanier Theological Library. Hosted by Dr. David Capes, it features language experts who discuss the importance of learning the biblical languages—Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek—and show how reading the Bible in the original languages “pays off.” Each podcast lasts between seven and eleven minutes and covers a different topic for those who want to read the Bible for all it is worth.

If you’re interested in going deeper, learn more about Wheaton’s undergraduate degree in Classical Languages (Greek, Hebrew, and Latin) and our MA in Biblical Exegesis. 

You can hear Exegetically Speaking on Spotify, Stitcher, Apple Podcasts, and YouTube. If you have questions or comments, please contact us at exegetically.speaking@wheaton.edu. And keep listening. Jesus

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Is the Kingdom Advancing Forcefully or Suffering Violence?

To hear the podcast (9 minutes) click here.

Bradley Trout is a Ph.D. student at North-West University, Potchefstroom, South Africa, and he teaches Greek and Hebrew at George Whitefield College, Cape Town, South Africa. His current research is on the law in Matthew’s gospel within the Greco-Roman milieu. Today’s topic: A key verb in Matt. 11:12 could be taken as passive or middle voice leading to opposing translations, negative and positive. Jesus may be declaring that the kingdom of God is being subjected to violence or that it is forcefully advancing. There are contextual reasons to favor the passive, negative sense.

“Exegetically Speaking” is a weekly podcast of the friends and faculty of Wheaton College, IL and The Lanier Theological Library. Hosted by Dr. David Capes, it features language experts who discuss the importance of learning the biblical languages—Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek—and show how reading the Bible in the original languages “pays off.” Each podcast lasts between seven and eleven minutes and covers a different topic for those who want to read the Bible for all it is worth.

If you’re interested in going deeper, learn more about Wheaton’s undergraduate degree in Classical Languages (Greek, Hebrew, and Latin) and our MA in Biblical Exegesis. 

You can hear Exegetically Speaking on Spotify, Stitcher, Apple Podcasts, and YouTube. If you have questions or comments, please contact us at exegetically.speaking@wheaton.edu. And keep listening.