Scripture and Theology – Page 9

On Poverty, Jesus, and the Gospel of Luke (for Epiphany 6C)

As we work our way this year through the Gospel of Luke, we will encounter a number of references to “the poor”. Early in his public activity as an adult, Jesus declares that he intends to fulfil the ancient prophetic words to “bring good news to the poor” (Luke 4:18, citing Isa 61:1). Addressing his disciples, he speaks words of blessing on “you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God” (6:20), and then tells messengers from John to “go and tell John what you have seen and heard: … the poor have good news brought to them” (7:22). And at the very end of this public activity, he praises a poor widow placing her gift in the Temple treasury, for “out of her poverty [she] has put in all she had to live on” (21:3–4). Concern for the poor is a theme running throughout the Gospel.

Performing acts which assist “the poor” is in the teaching that Jesus gives in the earliest version of his life, the Gospel of Mark (Mark 10:21). It is intensified in Luke’s later account. “Give to everyone who begs from you”, he teaches (6:30), while on another occasion he exhorts his followers to “sell your possessions, and give alms” (12:33). This word is then repeated with a deeper intensity when Jesus tells them, “none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions” (14:33).

On one occasion while he was eating “in the house of a leader of the Pharisees … on the sabbath” (14:1), Jesus instructs his host, “when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind” (14:13). He then tells a parable in which a person giving “a great dinner” instructs his slave to “go out at once into the streets and lanes of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame” (14:21).

He also tells a story in a parable about a rich man who ignored a poor man lying at his gate; the rich man dies and is sent to be tormented in Hades (16:19–23). Sometime after that, Jesus meets a rich man, commending him for his obedience to Torah, but then commanding him to “sell all that you own and distribute the money to the poor” (18:22). As he approaches Jerusalem, Jesus encounters Zacchaeus of Jericho and visits his home for a meal; Zacchaeus, taken by this act of grace, promises to change by pledging to Jesus that “half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much” (19:8).

In fact, Luke would have us understand that the followers of Jesus attended to these words with serious diligence. Peter, speaking for all the disciples, declares that “we have left our homes and followed you” (18:28). Later, Luke characterises the community of believers that formed in Jerusalem after Jesus had been crucified, and then raised from the dead, as one in which “they had all things in common” (Acts 2:44), “they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need” (2:45), “no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common” (4:32).

Although Luke declares that “there was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold” (4:34), we might reasonably assess that this is a “gilding of the lily” which romanticises the fidelity of the early community in a text written at least half a century later. The purpose was to encourage those who had means and possessions to be generous with what they had, to share with “the poor”.

One matter that merits attention in considering this theme is the question about the socio-economic level of Jesus and of the disciples to whom he was delivering these instructions. Was he one of “the poor”, advocating for their rights? Or did his family have some means at their disposal? Were his disciples “poor” or (in our terms) “middle class”?

After all, in his letter to the Corinthians, Paul wrote that “not many [of you] were of noble birth” and that “God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are” (1 Cor 1:26, 28). And in writing to the Galatians, Paul talked about the “acknowledged pillars” asking that Paul and Barnabas “remember the poor, which was actually what I was eager to do” (Gal 2:9–10). Such references might well suggest that the early Jesus movement was a movement amongst “the poor”.

Some interpreters have claimed that Jesus was born in poverty, deriving this from the “born in a manger … no room at the inn” element of “the Christmas story” (Luke 2:7), as well as Luke’s later comment that when Mary brought the offering for her purification (Luke 2:22), it was the lesser option prescribed for one who could not afford to offer a sheep (Lev 12:8). Further, that he was known as “the carpenter” (Mark 6:3) or as “the carpenter’s son” (Matt 13:55) is seen to be evidence of his lowly status.

More careful analysis, however, indicates that this is too simplistic. British Anglican scholar Ian Paul has posted a detailed consideration of this matter, in which he draws on very helpful research by historians and economists who have turned their attention to the ancient world. (Ian Paul can be aggressively dismissive of arguments that do not align with his clear-cut conservative-evangelical-Anglican perspective, especially when it comes to the debate about sexuality and gender in the. Church of England; but in this post—as in many others on his page—his careful scholarly analysis is most helpful.)

Paul notes what others before have observed—that a tiny minority of people in the Hellenistic world had power and wealth, but a substantial proportion of people were at the other end of the social stratum. At the very bottom, in the most precarious position, were those who were desperately poor: orphans, widows, unskilled workers, beggars, prisoners, and disabled people—perhaps 25 to 30% of the population. Above them were those who were dependent on their labour to meet their day-by-day needs—perhaps 30 to 40% of the population; and then above them, a further 20 to 25% of the population who generally lived just above the minimum level required to sustain a reasonable life: most merchants and traders, skilled artisans, freedpersons (formerly slaves), and families living on larger farms.

This breakdown is based on estimates by biblical scholar Bruce Longenecker in his analysis of social levels in Pauline churches (Remember the Poor, Eerdmans, 2010). Longenecker in turn draws on the work of historian Peter Oakes, who had undertaken careful analysis of demography and housing in Pompeii (Reading Romans in Pompeii, SPCK, 2009).

The Gospels provide a number of clues as to where the disciples might have fitted into this schema. The toll collector Matthew (or Levi) was a small business man operating to collect tolls from travellers along the roads (Mark 2:14; Matt 9:9); the four Galilean fisherman ran their own fishing businesses with their “hired men” (Mark 1:20). As for Jesus, Paul observes that “as a tekton, a general builder (Matt 13:55; Mark 6:3) working with stone and wood (though not metal), it is more than likely that Joseph (and therefore Jesus) … was above either 55% or 82% of the population not including slaves, across the Empire as a whole”.

See https://www.psephizo.com/biblical-studies/was-jesus-actually-born-into-a-poor-family/

So we can see that the teachings of Jesus that instruct his followers on the matter of wealth and possessions are designed to stimulate the consciences of his followers, who were not beggardly poor, to alert them to their responsibilities towards those in the lowest socio-economic levels of society. They are to act towards them remembering that God has long had good news for the the poor and liberty for the oppressed (Isa 61:1–2, quoted at Luke 4:18), knowing that Jesus blesses those who are poor, hungry, and weeping (Luke 6:20–21), and recalling how Mary sang that God has “lifted up the lowly [and] filled the hungry with good things” (Luke 1:52–53), which itself evoked the ancient song of Hannah that God “raises up the poor from the dust [and] lifts the needy from the ash heap” (1 Sam 2:8, repeated at Ps 113:7).

In order to make sense of this thread running throughout the Gospel—and into the early chapters of Acts—we need to remember key elements of life in ancient times. First, that society was not individualist (like modern Western society), but thoroughly communal (as many cultures around the world still are today). Second, that the fundamental economic dynamic at work was that of patronage; everyone had their place in society, and they related “up” to people with greater means and power than they had, as well as “down” to those with less power and means.

Third, that society was an honour—shame culture, in which everyone knew what was appropriate and what was not, and which acts performed out of place would damage the honour of a man, or the shame of a woman. Such acts of care and support for those lowly and impoverished would gain honour in the public sphere.

And finally, within ancient societies there was an acceptance that there were limited goods in society. Unlike the modern idea that “progress” could create more )more goods, more wealth, more power) in ancient societies it was accepted that what there was needed to do for everyone; there’s no “more” to be made.

So these dynamics shape the way that these teachings of Jesus functioned in his society; and they agitate us to live in socially responsible ways in our society today. Christians have a responsibility to ensure the material wellbeing of all in society, including (and especially!) a commitment to support and advocate for those most at risk and most impacted.

Indeed, my own denomination, the Uniting Church in Australia, published a Statement to the Nation when it was formed in 1977, which made clear this responsibility and affirmed this commitment in very clear terms. This Statement declares that the Gospel cannot be reduced simply to personal piety or sexual morality or doctrinal disputation or practical ethics. The Church is most fully on mission when its people are engaged in society, not only tending to the needs of vulnerable and impoverished members of society, but also advocating for their rights, lobbying for changes in the law, pressing for justice in daily life. See

Alongside the Basis of Union, there was the Statement to the Nation

Receiving and passing on a living tradition (1 Cor 15; Epiphany 5C)

In the verses proposed by the lectionary for this coming Sunday, we come to a central claim of Christian faith. As the fourth century Apostles Creed puts it: we believe in Jesus Christ … who suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and buried, descended into hell, rose again on the third day, ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of God. Four of those claims (crucified, died, buried, rose again) are articulated in the passage from this first letter to the Corinthians that we will hear on Sunday (1 Cor 15:1–11).

What is the nature of the confessional affirmation that Paul and Sosthenes offer in this passage? The previous chapters of 1 Corinthians have alerted us to the disorganised ethos of the community in the cosmopolitan port city of Corinth. Those earlier chapters have indicated a number of problems that existed within the community of followers of Jesus. There was factionalism (chs.1–4), immorality (ch.5), resorting to civil lawsuits (ch.6), and dissension regarding marriage, celibacy, and sexuality (ch.7). There were differing attitudes towards consuming meat bought in the marketplace after it had been offered to idols (chs.8–10), and multiple issues that manifested in their gatherings for worship (chs.11–14).

The letter proceeds by addressing each of these matters in turn, all undertaken with the same intention, to bring about order in the midst of the chaos that existed in Corinth. His words in the midst of the lengthy discussion about marriage, celibacy, and sexuality state his purpose with clarity: “I say this for your own benefit, not to put any restraint upon you, but to promote good order and unhindered devotion to the Lord” (7:35).

The disorder and chaos evident in worship, in particular, led Paul and Sosthenes, in the chapter immediately preceding this passage, to advise the Corinthians to seek to speak to others in worship “for their upbuilding and encouragement and consolation” (14:3). The letter writers advise them to exercise their spiritual gifts appropriately; to “strive to excel in them for building up the church” (14:12), to “not be children in your thinking … but in thinking be adults” (14:20). Their advice is, “let all things be done for building up” (14:26), noting that “all things should be done decently and in order” (14:40), for “God is a God not of disorder but of peace” (14:33).

People speaking over the top of each other in worship, not attending to important words of prophecy and tongues, reflected the disordered chaos of the apparently quite libertine community. The infamous words ordering women to “keep silent” (14:33b—36), along with the adjacent commands to “keep silent” while one interprets tongues that are spoken (14:27–28) and “keep silent” to those seeking to offer a word of prophecy while others are still prophesying (14:29–31), are included in this letter precisely to address this chaotic disorder. And not for the first time in this letter, Paul invokes his higher authority to support his directions: “[you] must acknowledge that what I am writing to you is a command of the Lord” (14:37; see also 5:3–4; 7:40; 10:20–22; 11:27–28; 16:10; and cf. 7:25).

Immediately after this extensive discussion about worship, Paul and Sosthenes turn to the foundational message about Jesus, in a four-part statement: Christ died—was buried—was raised—and then appeared to various people (15:3–5). He uses terms that denote the passing on of traditions: “I received … I handed on … which you received … in which you stand” (15:1); and he insists on the importance of what he passes on: “you are being saved, if you hold firmly to the message that I proclaimed to you” (15:2). These two verses provide a strong, insistent introduction to what follows in the ensuing verses.

We see this dynamic also in an earlier chapter, in the familiar words associated with the Last Supper: “I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you” (1 Cor 11:23), as well as in the commendation of the Corinthians as they “maintain the traditions just as I handed them on to you” (11:2).

The core tradition that Paul and Sosthenes cite is the fourfold declaration that Jesus died, was buried, was raised, and appeared (vv.3–5). It may have already have been an existing formula; we know that Paul, in this letter that he wrote with Sosthenes, as well as in other letters, was willing to make use of very short credal-like statements that it is likely had already been developed by others, some of which he cites in order to refute, such as: “is well for a man not to touch a woman” (7:1), “all of us possess knowledge” (8:1), “all things are lawful” (10:23), and “how can some of you say there is no resurrection of the dead?” (15:12).

There are other succinct sayings which appear as the basis for further developments in the argument being made, such as “I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified” (2:2), “knowledge puffs up, but love builds up” (8:1), “there is no God but one” (8:4), and “all things are lawful, but not all things build up” (10:24). The discussion of factions in chs.1–4 is built off “I belong to Paul … I belong to Apollos … [but] what then is Apollos? what is Paul?” (3:4–5), while Paul’s lengthy discussion of spiritual gifts (12:4—14:40) jumps off from the unspiritual “Jesus be cursed!” and the spirit-inspired response, “Jesus is Lord” (12:3).

Furthermore, Paul writes a number of longer credal-like statements, some of which seem shaped for liturgical usage: the words which became the “words of institution” in the church’s eucharistic practice (1 Cor 11:23–26), and others such as Rom 8:28; 2 Cor 4:14; Gal 1:3–5; Phil 2:6–11. The writers in the school of Paul who later wrote letters claiming to have his authority ( the “pastoral epistles”) followed this practice (see 1 Tim 2:5–6; 3:16; 2 Tim 2:11–13; Titus 2:11–14).

Two clauses in this tradition-based affirmation of 1 Cor 15:3–5 are buttressed by reference to scripture, another voice of authority alongside “the tradition”. What the specific scripture passages are, Paul and Sosthenes do not state; this has left open the door for speculation by later interpreters.

Supporting arguments by reference to scripture is not unknown in Paul’s writings; as a Pharisee, he had attained a good awareness of Torah and its application to life (see Gal 1:14; Phil 3:5–6). He bases his magnum opus, Romans, on a scripture citation (Rom 1:17, citing Hab 2:4) and there is barely a chapter of this letter that does not contain scripture quotations and allusions in abundance.

Key moments in 1 Corinthians are likewise supported by verses from Hebrew Scripture (1 Cor 1:19, 31; 2:9, 16; 3:19–20; 14:21; 15:54–55), and the well-known “words of institution” themselves (11:23–26) reference the tradition which emerges in later decades in the Synoptic Gospels, recording the words of Jesus himself at the last supper (Mark 14:22–25; Matt 26:26–29; Luke 22:14–20).

By using the terminology of traditions being received and handed on, Paul and Sosthenes are reining in the wayward Corinthians, recalling them to the fundamentals of their faith. So he sets out the dynamic of died—buried—raised—appeared (15:3–5) as the foundation for then discussing, in the remainder of the chapter, issues associated with the resurrection of Jesus (15:6–58).

Who saw the risen Jesus? First, Paul and Sosthenes tell of an appearance to the early leaders, Cephas (Peter) (v.5) and James (v.7)—although none of these appearances are reported in any Gospel.

Then, they indicate that Jesus appeared to “the twelve” (v.5) and “all the apostles” (v.8)—apparently alluding to narratives found in the later texts of three Gospels Matt 28:16–20, Luke 24:33–48; John 20:19–23, 24–29; 21:1–14. (The appearances narrated in the shorter and longer endings of Mark, added after 16:8, are not relevant; these are later patristic additions based on the other three Gospels, designed to harmonise the ending of Mark with these others.) Acts 1:6–11 might also be relevant here.

An interesting question is, how did he distinguish between these two groups—“the twelve” on the one hand, and “all the apostles” on the other. Indeed, these terms appear to be inherited by the letter writers from earlier traditions. This is the only place in all Pauline letters which refer to “the twelve”; and besides, the Gospel narratives noted above do not have Jesus appearing to “the twelve”, as Judas was absent from all of them, and so was Thomas in John 20:19–23.

As far as the word “apostle” is concerned, in 16 of the 18 occurrences in the Pauline corpus (including those not authentic to Paul) Paul explicitly apply the term to himself. Paul acknowledges others as apostles: James (Gal 1:19), Peter (Gal 2:8), perhaps Barnabas (1 Cor 9:1, 5–6), an unspecified number of believers who were given gifts to be apostles (1 Cor 12:28–29; see also Eph 4:11), and most strikingly, Andronicus, a male, with Junia, a female (Rom 16:7). Are these the people that Paul has in mind at 1 Cor 15:8? Or is this simply a phrase inherited from the tradition, which Paul has repeated?

Next, Paul and Sosthenes identify an appearance to “more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time” (v.6), which again has no place in any Gospel account. Last, Jesus appears to Paul himself (v.8), which he briefly reports at 1 Cor 9:1 and Gal 1:1. Strikingly absent from his list is the empty tomb and the appearances to Mary in the garden (John 20:14), to the women as they left the tomb (Matt 28:9–10), to the two travellers to Emmaus (Luke 24:15), or to the seven fishing by the Sea of Tiberias (John 21:1–4). What a perplexing inconsistency between the various testimonies to these appearances!!

This is an early collection of “witnesses to the resurrection”; Paul and Sosthenes wrote to the Corinthians in the mid 50s. But there is no mention of what was important to all four evangelists, writing in later decades: the women at the empty tomb and the role that women played in bearing testimony to the risen one. Is this accidental? or deliberate? Given what we have noted about 1 Corinthians as a whole—and especially what ch.14 reveals about the disorderly behaviour of Corinthian women—we might well wonder, are Paul and Sosthenes shaping the received tradition to “fit the context” already at this early stage? It is a tantalising suggestion.

There is a wonderful quote that is pertinent to this issue, which is attributed to Gustav Mahler, the late 19th century Austro—Bohemian composer: “Tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire.” These words indicate that if tradition stands still, it will run out of momentum and fizzle out of energy. Tradition always needs to be reinvigorated and renewed, in the way that fire sizzles and snaps as it continually changes its shape and form.

And that’s a fine thought for us to have as we consider the resurrection of Jesus. As the Apostles Creed affirms, echoing 1 Cor 15:3–5, we believe in Jesus Christ … who was crucified, died, and was buried … who rose again from the dead on the third day. We need to renew and rekindle that tradition, to find fresh ways to understand and proclaim that mysterious happening, which sits at the heart of classic Christian confessions.

I’ve offered my own initial reflections on precisely that task in this blog:

Liberating Life: a new way of being. Easter Sunday Reflections

Appropriating prophetic passages in the season of Epiphany (Epiphany 4C to 7C)

Every Sunday throughout the Christian year (save for the six Sundays in the season of Easter), the Revised Common Lectionary provides a passage from Hebrew Scripture as the First Reading in the set of four readings for that Sunday. (During Easter, a passage from Acts stands as the First Reading, providing stories from the early years of the movement which Jesus founded.)

Each year, during the season of Epiphany, the First Readings relate to the prophetic figures of ancient Israel. In Year C (this year), they are drawn from the books of Isaiah and Jeremiah. I think we need to be wary how we hear and interpret these prophetic passages. There is often a temptation to hearvthesemoldermreadings and argue that, because of what the Gospel passage says, they have now been “ fulfilled” in Jesus.

That’s a danger that we should work carefully to avoid—for if we simply take Hebrew Scriptures as providing the “set up” which is being “fulfilled” in Jesus, we are running the risk of an inappropriate appropriation of the older texts. It’s a path that can lead us to a supercessionist attitude towards Hebrew Scriptures and, by extension, to Judaism. (By supercessionism I mean “the belief that Christians have replaced Jews in the love and purpose of God”.) This post is designed to steer us in a different direction.

Each year, the Feast of Epiphany includes Isaiah 60:1–6 as the First Reading. In this passage, the prophet foresees that “nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn” (Isa 60:3); he specifies that when they come to the light of the Lord, “they shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the Lord” (Isa 60:6). The reason for reading this on Epiphany is obvious—it correlates well with the story in Matthew of when the magi came to visit Jesus, and “they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh” (Matt 2:11).

The first Sunday after the Feast of Epiphany is always the day on which the Baptism of Jesus is recalled. One year (Year B) places the beginnings of the priestly creation account (Gen 1:1–5) alongside this Gospel story. In the other two years, passages from Second Isaiah are offered; for this year, Year C, this is Isaiah 43:1–7, which includes the affirmation, “do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine; when you pass through the waters, I will be with you” (Isa 43:1b—2). The presence of water in both of these passages seems to be the reason for their linking with the baptism of Jesus.

The sequence of passages will continue with selections from Third Isaiah (Isa 62:1–5, Epiphany 2C), First Isaiah (Isa 6:1–13, Epiphany 5C), and two excerpts from Jeremiah (Jer 1:4–10, Epiphany 4C, and Jer 17:5–10, Epiphany 6C). A section of Nehemiah 8 is offered on Epiphany 3C, while the sequence concludes with a story recounting the moment when Joseph revealed himself to his brothers when they had come to Egypt (in Gen 45) on Epiphany 7C.

I think it is noteworthy that two of these passages relate specifically to “call”. For Epiphany 4C, the call of the young prophet Jeremiah is placed alongside the Lukan account of the reception accorded to the young(ish) Jesus when he spoke at the synagogue in his home town. Jeremiah is told by the Lord that the message he will speak to his people will be about “to pluck up and to pull down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant” (Jer 1:10). It won’t be a straightforward task for Jeremiah—as the rest of the book reporting his oracles confirms.

In like manner, Jesus is initially met with amazement “at the gracious words that came from his mouth” (Luke 4:22). However, after he recounts older stories in which he commends the faith of outsiders (a widow of Zarephath, a leper of Syria), the people turn on him, “drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff” (Luke 4:29). The duality of positive and negative responses, evident throughout the ministry of Jesus, is signalled in this early, programmatic incident.

For Epiphany 5C, when the Gospel moves on the recount the call of Simon Peter and those who were fishing with him (Luke 5:1–11), the Hebrew Scripture passage placed alongside this is the narrative of the call of Isaiah (Isa 6:1–13). Simon and his fellow fishermen were beside the lake of Genessaret, while Isaiah was in the Temple in Jerusalem. Both men, however, recognize that they are in the presence of an awesome power. Isaiah cries out, “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!” (Isa 6:5). Simon Peter “fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’” (Luke 5:8).

Isaiah’s commissioning alerts him to the reality that those to whom he speaks will be struck with incomprehension; they will “not look with their eyes, and listen with their ears, and comprehend with their minds, and turn and be healed” (Isa 6:10). His role will be to call for repentance from a sinful people. Simon Peter is given the charge, “from now on you will be catching people” (Luke 5:10). That imagery also refers to the reality that in the prophetic rhetoric of years past, the metaphor of fishing for a human being has indicated the means of carrying out the judgement of God (Jer 16:16–18; Hab 1:14–17; Ezek 29:4–5). See

Fishing for people: not quite what you think! (Mark 1; Epiphany 3B)

The two Hebrew Scripture call narratives thus inform and enrich the Gospel passages that are heard alongside them on those days. A similar dynamic is at work on Epiphany 6C, when the Gospel offers a set of blessings and curses spoken by Jesus (Luke 6:20–26). Alongside this is a pair of sayings, a curse and a blessing, that Jeremiah spoke to Israel: “cursed are those who trust in mere mortals … blessed are those who trust in the Lord” (Jer 17:5–8). Both Jeremiah and Jesus address their contemporaries with a challenge through their words. The challenge is to meet the testing of the Lord (Jer 17:10) and to receive the “great reward” awaiting in heaven (Luke 6:23).

And perhaps the tale of reconciliation told in Genesis 45 dramatically illustrates the central theme of the words of Jesus which are offered on Epiphany 7C: “love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return … be merciful, just as your Father is merciful” (Luke 6:35–36). Joseph exemplifies what Jesus teaches.

As I noted above, I think there is always a temptation to hear a passage from the older scriptures, inherited from the ancient stories of Israel, as being “fulfilled” in a story told in the later scriptures, formed by the early Church. This pattern draws on a flat reading of the statement by Jesus that “everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled” (Luke 24:44). It fosters a perspective that sees everything in Hebrew Scriptures as material that Jesus “brought to fulfilment”. It contains an implicit ideology that anything that took place in Judaism was “incomplete” and “in need of fulfilment”. The pathway into supercessionism is clear. For further discussion of supercessionism, see https://johntsquires.com/tag/supercessionism/

By contrast, I think that each of these paired passages can be read in a way that accords greater value to the Hebrew Scripture texts. I am reminded of what Richard B. Hays has written about in his book Echoes of Scripture in the Gospels (Baylor, 2017). Hays describes what he labels as figural reading, which is to read back from the Gospel into the older texts and see patterns and figures at work that may not have been evident at the time they were created.

The later texts in the New Testament can throw light on the passages in Hebrew Scripture, without insisting that hey “predict Jesus” and are “fulfilled” in Jesus. We can notice, not only how the NT writers shaped their words in ways that drew from Hebrew Scripture passages, but also how the internal dynamics in the later texts both utilise and illuminate those earlier passages, drawing forth from them new levels of meaning.

As the blurb for this book states, “He shows how each Gospel artfully uses scriptural echoes to re-narrate Israel’s story [and] to assert that Jesus is the embodiment of Israel’s God.” I think that is a really helpful way to think about how the paired passages work together, informing and enlightening each other. And that’s an appropriate thing to be looking for in those season of Epiphany—mutual understanding and enlightenment!

The greatest of these is love (1 Cor 13; Epiphany 4C)

For the passage to be read and heard this coming Sunday, the Lectionary has proposed what is perhaps the most well-known part of the first letter to the Corinthians that Paul wrote together with Sosthenes: the chapter on love (1 Cor 13:1–13). Paul and Sosthenes wax lyrical about love, telling the Corinthians that love “bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things; love never ends” (13:7–8), and builds to a wonderful rhetorical climax in which he affirms that “faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love” (13:13).

As well as being a rhetorical tour de force, and the most beloved part of this letter of Paul, this chapter is also, in my view, the most misunderstood and misused chapter of this letter—as I will attempt to explain below.

It is clear from the description that is offered by Sosthenes and Paul that, when the community in Corinth gathered for worship, there was a high degree of disorder manifested. They devote four chapters of their letter to this issue (11:1—14:40). Throughout this section of the letter, Paul and Sosthenes write with a single focus in mind; they write to bring order and decency to this situation (14:40).

The two letter writers begin their consideration of the disorder evident in the community by asserting the importance of maintaining “the traditions just as I handed them on to you” (11:2), reminding them of words that “I received from the Lord” and duly “handed on to you” (11:23). They instruct the Corinthians to seek to speak to others in worship “for their upbuilding and encouragement and consolation” (14:3).

They advise them to exercise their spiritual gifts appropriately; to “strive to excel in them for building up the church” (14:12), to “not be children in your thinking … but in thinking be adults” (14:20). They continue, “let all things be done for building up” (14:26), noting that “all things should be done decently and in order” (14:40), for “God is a God not of disorder but of peace” (14:33).

The hymn in chapter 13 is an integral part of that overarching purpose. As well as his reminder of “the traditions just as I handed them on to you” (11:1), Sosthenes and Paul assert that they must acknowledge that “what I am writing to you is a command of the Lord” (14:37). Drawing from various authorities, they allude to scriptural ideas (11:3, 7–9, 10; 14:4), directly cite Hebrew scripture (14:21, 25), refer to the words of Jesus (11:24–25), claim the precedent of nature (11:14) and church custom (11:16), and in a controversial passage, they refer to what takes place “in all the churches of the saints” (14:33b–34).

Chapter 12 contains an adaptation of an image which was extensively used in political discussions about the city state (“the body is one and has many members”, 12:12) as well as what may be a reference to a developing baptismal liturgy within the early church (“we were all baptised into one body”, 12:13) and a very early creedal statement (“Jesus is Lord”, 12:3).

Throughout these chapters, those who are inclined to diverge from the commands given by Sosthenes and Paul are portrayed in negative terms: they are “contentious” (11:16), showing “contempt” (11:22), acting “in an unworthy manner” (11:27) and with “dissension” (12:25); their behaviour conveys dishonour (12:22–26) and shame (14:35).

The selfish behaviour of some at the common meal warrants their condemnation (11:32) and justifies the illness and death that has occurred within the community (11:30). The individualistic participation of others in communal worship builds up themselves, but not others (14:4, 17); they are not intelligible in speech (14:9), but are unproductive in their minds (14:14) and childish in their thinking (14:20), leaving themselves open to the risk, “will they not say that you are out of your mind? (14:23).

In the centre of this section stands the famous “hymn to love” (12:31–13:13), now often treated in isolation and over-romanticised. In context, the passage provides a sharp, pointed polemic against the Corinthian community. The qualities they possess are consistently inadequate when measured against love.

The speech of the Corinthians is like “a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal” (13:1), an allusion to the mayhem brought about by speaking in tongues in worship (1:5; 12:10, 28–30; 14:6–8). Whilst they readily express their “prophetic powers” in worship (11:4–5; 12:10, 28–30; 14:1, 4–5, 23–24, 29–32, 37, 39), for Paul and Sosthenes, these abilities are nothing without love (13:2).

Likewise, they claim that they are able to understand mysteries (2:7; 4:1; 14:2, 23) and have knowledge (1:5; 8:1–3, 7, 10, 11; 12:8; 14:6) as well as faith (2:5; 12:9; 15:14, 17; 16:13); but Paul and Sosthenes insist that all of these are nothing in isolation from love (13:2).

Elsewhere in this letter there are direct accusations to the Corinthians that they are precisely what love is not. Love does not boast (13:4), but the Corinthians are regarded as being boastful (1:29; 3:21; 4:7; 5:6). Love is not arrogant (13:4), but in the eyes of Sosthenes and Paul the Corinthians are arrogant or “puffed up” (translating the same Greek word in 4:6, 18–19; 5:2; 8:1).

Love does not rejoice in wrongdoing (13:6), but Paul and Sosthenes berate the Corinthians for taking fellow-believers to court to seek redress for wrongs; indeed, “you yourselves wrong and defraud—and believers at that” (6:7–8). Love means that people do not insist on their own way (13:5), but they consider that the way that some behave in relation to meat offered to idols in the marketplace advantage; “do not seek your own advantage”, they advise them, “but that of the other” (10:24).

In like manner, when they gather to celebrate the supper of the Lord, “when the time comes to eat, each of you goes ahead with your own supper, and one goes hungry and another becomes drunk” (11:21). Selfishness and acting without regard for the other characterises their common life.

Love “hopes all things” (13:7), but some in the community at Corinth are accused of failing to share in the hope of the resurrection (15:12–19). The assertion that “we know only in part” (13:9–10) is directed squarely against the Corinthian claim to have full knowledge (8:1, 10–12) whilst the image of the child, not yet adult (13:11), reflects criticism levelled by Sosthenes and Paul against the Corinthians, whom they see as infants, not yet ready for solid food (3:1–2; 14:20).

So the hymn alleged to be in praise of love is, more accurately, a polemical censure of the Corinthians’ shortcomings, in which every word used and every phrase shaped by Paul and his co-writer Sosthenes cuts to the heart of the inadequacies of the Corinthian community. Try preaching that at a wedding!!

The theological construction of “The Twelve” (Narrative Lectionary for Epiphany 4C; Luke 6)

The Narrative Lectionary proposes a passage for this coming Sunday containing three distinct events. First, Jesus is engaged by some Pharisees while he “was going through the grainfields” (Luke 6:1–5). Next, after he “entered a synagogue and taught”, he healed “a man whose right hand was withered” (6:6–11). Then, after spending a night on a mountain in prayer, Jesus “called his disciples and chose twelve of them, whom he also named apostles” (6:12–16).

I have already reflected at length on the first two sections of this passage; see

Plucking grain, healing, and choosing twelve apostles (Narrative Lectionary for Epiphany 4C; Luke 6:1–16)

In this blog I focus on the third section, in which Jesus chose twelve disciples “whom he named as apostles”, presumably in recognition of their role in representing his message to those whom they encounter.

“The disciples” in Luke’s account is a broad, inclusive group of followers. It’s a term applied to those who began following Jesus from early on.The Pharisees refer to “your disciples” (Luke 5:33); they are “going through the grainfields” (6:1); and it is from this group that Jesus specifically nominates twelve “who he also named as apostles” (6:13). Jesus evidently attracts “a great crowd of disciples” (6:17) and they follow Jesus where he journeys (7:11; 8:1, 22; 9:18, 43; 11:1; 12:1; 16:1; 17:1), hearing the parables and teachings of Jesus and witnessing the miracles he performs.

Time spent with Jesus involves not just learning from him—although this is the bedrock of the relationship—but also putting his ethic into practice. First, the group of twelve are commissioned by Jesus “to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal” (9:1–2). Then, a larger group of seventy, having spent time with Jesus learning, are challenged to exercise leadership within the Jesus movement. They are sent out “like lambs into the midst of wolves” (10:3) to proclaim peace and declare that “the kingdom of God has come near” (10:4–11).

Eventually, the disciples follow Jesus into Jerusalem (19:29). As they enter the city, the noise made by “the whole multitude of the disciples” (19:37) caused the Pharisees to tell Jesus to order them to stop (19:39). There, the disciples share a final meal with Jesus (22:11). As it was a Passover meal, it would have been a larger group, presumably including the women who were with Jesus in Galilee (8:1–3), who shared in this meal; although Luke, surprisingly, says only that “the apostles” were present (22:14).

The reason for this may be that a few verses later, Jesus tells the disciples, “I confer on you, just as my Father has conferred on me, a kingdom, so that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom, and you will sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel” (Luke 22:29–30; a similar saying can be found at Matt 19:28). On the four occasions when “the twelve apostles” are designated (Mark 3:14; Luke 6:13; Matt 10:2; Rev 21:14) they are intended to mirror and replicate the twelve sons of Jacob, whose names were given to the twelve tribes of Israel.

In the traditions of the church, “The Twelve Apostles” has come to be a standard phrase. A non-canonical work setting out teachings of Jesus styles itself “The teaching of the Lord to the Gentiles by the twelve apostles” (Didache 1.1). This group appears to have ben known at some stage in the early period of the movement.

But there questions about who, exactly, makes up those twelve. Is Judas in “the twelve”? And if so, what about Matthias also (Acts 1:21–26)? Or is Matthias there in place of Judas? And what of poor Joseph Barsabbas, who like Matthias witnessed everything in the ministry of Jesus but missed out replacing Judas by a whisker? Are they not both apostles?

Paul indicates that Jesus appeared to “the twelve” (v.5) and “all the apostles” (v.8)—apparently alluding to narratives found in the later texts of three Gospels Matt 28:16–20, Luke 24:33–48; John 20:19–23, 24–29; 21:1–14. The appearances narrated in the shorter and longer endings of Mark, added after 16:8, are not relevant; these are later patristic additions based on the other three Gospels, designed to harmonise the ending of Mark with these others. Acts 1:6–11 might, however, be relevant here, for Jesus appears for the last time over the forty days since his resurrection (Acts 1:3) to an unnamed and uncounted group; Luke simply recounts that “they had come together” (1:6).

An interesting question is, how did Paul distinguish between these two groups—“the twelve” on the one hand, and “all the apostles” on the other. Indeed, these terms appear to be inherited by Paul from earlier traditions. This is the only place in all Pauline letters which refer to “the twelve”; and besides, the Gospel narratives noted above do not have Jesus appearing to “the twelve”, as Judas was absent from all of them, and so was Thomas in John 20:19–23.

As far as the word “apostle” is concerned, in 16 of the 18 occurrences in the Pauline corpus (including those not authentic to Paul) Paul explicitly apply the term to himself. Paul also acknowledges others as apostles besides himself: James (Gal 1:19), Peter (Gal 2:8), perhaps Barnabas (1 Cor 9:1, 5–6), and an unspecified number of believers who were given gifts to be apostles (1 Cor 12:28–29; see also Eph 4:11). Most strikingly of all , Paul describes Andronicus, a male, and Junia, a female, as “most esteemed amongst the apostles” (Rom 16:7). (And Jesus himself is called “the apostle and high priest of our confession” by the unknown writer to the Hebrews, at Heb 3:1).

Are any of these the people that Paul has in mind when he refers to “all the apostles” at 1 Cor 15:7? Or is this simply a phrase inherited from the tradition, which Paul has repeated? That seems the likely conclusion, to me. And did Paul have a picture of “the twelve apostles” in his mind? Again, I think that unlikely. He is simply using phrases from the tradition in what he writes to the Corinthians. And the origins of those phrases are now, to us, quite unclear.

So the conclusion that I hold to is that “the twelve apostles” was a theological construction devised at an early stage of the movement, that did not bear any relationship to any historical reality of which we are definitely aware.

The Twelve Apostles, a striking rock formation
off the coast of Victoria, Australia,
seen from The Great Ocean Road

An interview with Luke (an imaginative exercise)

The following “transcript” reports an imagined interview that I conducted with “Luke”, the person claimed to be the author of the third Gospel and its sequel, Acts. (Of course, what the “Luke” of this “interview” articulates is what I have come to think about him and how he saw things.) Wouldn’t it be great if we did have the transcript of an actual interview with the author of this Gospel? Well, for the moment, we will just have to settle for this. Enjoy ………

What motivated you to write about Jesus?

I thought I had something to offer, in short. Lots of stories about Jesus have been passed on by word of mouth for some years now; there have been collections made of his best sayings and parables, as well as sets of well-known miracles. There is also an account of how he met his death (some call it “the passion of Jesus”) which has obviously been put together by someone who knew the psalms, especially the psalms of the righteous sufferer.

But beyond hearing these oral accounts, I have become aware more recently that some others have written about Jesus. I wanted to provide an extended version of the story of Jesus that highlighted both his connection to his Jewish heritage, and also how what he said and did provided the foundation for the development of the church. To achieve this I actually had to write a second volume, which some have called “the acts of the apostles”. But because I am convinced that the whole life of Jesus was guided by the Spirit, and that has continued on into the church, I prefer to think of it as “the acts of the holy spirit”.

At any rate, I wanted to provide my personal understanding of this important figure and the movement that he instigated. For everything that took place, I believe, is on accord with the predetermined plan of God. This plan involves both the very good things that took place, as Jesus drew people to him and as the movement spread across the world, as well as things that seemed to be quite a setback, such as the crucifixion of Jesus, the stoning of Stephen, and the trials of Paul. They are all part of this overall plan. We know that God confirmed all of this by raising Jesus from the dead—and by blessing the spread of the movement as the number of disciples grew—why, even some priests became followers!

So I think that my account, which is orderly and accurate, will stand well alongside these other works that I know of. Indeed, it is presented as a consistent work with an overarching theme of divine providence, which has been a favoured theme of numerous historians in the past, and much considered by philosophers in every age. So I am quite sure that the corrections and expansions that I offer in my work, as well as the deepened theological understandings that it contains, are all important to put on the public record.

Finally, I must express again my thanks to my patron Theophilus, whom I have acknowledged in the prefaces to each volume of my work. I am indebted to him for his provision of lodging, access to his wonderful library, and material support during the months when I was researching and writing my two volumes. I am most grateful to him for all of this. He has served me well as a fine patron.

Where did you get your information from? How well did you know Paul, for instance?

Well, I stated right at the start of my work that I was drawing from people who were actually with Jesus and were eyewitnesses of what took place, right from the very first. These people subsequently made sure that the words of Jesus and stories about him were remembered and passed on by word of mouth. The remembrances that they provided were very helpful, because I didn’t actually see anything in person of what I wrote about.

As well as stories from these eyewitnesses, I also drew from the recollections and writings of those who were part of the growing movement that developed in the years after the time of Jesus, as word spread around the various provinces of the Roman world—and beyond, down to Ethiopia, even. It has been important for me to receive and assess a whole host of stories from these “servants of the word”, as I call them. Even if some of them were, well, a little rough and unformed. So, I have worked diligently to put them in an order that conveys the truths that Jesus and the apostles each in turn spoke. All inspired by the Holy Spirit, of course.

Paul? Well, I’ve heard of him, of course; who hasn’t? Quite a character he was, it seems. Rather divisive, it is said; people either loved him or hated him. But I have never met him. Never travelled with him. Never heard him speak. Just heard about him, where he went, what he did, who he travelled with, what he said; and what eventually happened to him when the might of the Roman Empire caught up with him, despite his best efforts to defend himself. So I have tried to capture this in my second volume.

I have heard that Paul was quite a letter writer—although for myself, I haven’t seen many of his letters. What I have read seems to have been quite sharp and polemical. Perhaps that reflects his rabbinic upbringing at the feet of Gamaliel; he learnt how to argue hard! But I am not sure how helpful his polemical stance has been for the development of the movement.

I know that Paul was a faithful follower of Jesus in the years after his conversion, so I have given him the benefit of the doubt, making sure that any of his words that I included were consistent with what the apostles in Jerusalem had preached in earlier years. Harmony and consistency across the movement is important, I believe, despite the conflicts we have experienced over the years. That’s why I provided a careful account of the council held in Jerusalem in my second volume, when a major tension within the movement was resolved by the leaders coming together—and the spirit, of course.

It is said that you are a doctor. Where did you learn your medical skills?

Ah, yes, this old chestnut. So let’s be clear: I have no medical qualifications. I have never provided trained medical assistance to anyone. I do, however, know about medical things—like anyone who takes the time to read and think about these things does. I know technical medical terms. I know how healers operate. Indeed, I had to learn about this in order to give an accurate portrayal of Jesus as he went about healing people.

However, the medical insights you can see in my work don’t come from my own particular training or experience. No, it’s because I have read widely in literature that includes technical discussions of ailments and illnesses and healings, that I know about these things. As would any well-read person, I assume.

But this whole matter has not been helped, no doubt, by the fact that there are references to a person with the same name as me in letters associated with Paul. Although I haven’t seen these letters, I am told that in one letter written while he was imprisoned in Rome, Paul sends greetings from “Luke the beloved physician” to Nympha and Archippus, and those in their household gatherings.

That’s all well and good, but I can assure you that this particular person is not me. It’s simply a case of sharing the same name—a common-enough occurrence. I mean, how many people do you know named Paul? Or John? Or Mary? As I said before: I have never travelled anywhere with Paul. So I am not a physician, as this particular companion was. Although I am quite happy to be known as “beloved”. Someone amongst the followers of Jesus surely deserves this appellation!

Your story about Jesus is often called “the Gospel for the Gentiles”. What do you think about this description?

It’s true that I really wanted to offer an explanation to the wider world in which we live—beyond the Judaism of the land of Israel itself—about the relevance and the importance of the movement that Jesus initiated for everyone in that wider world. He fulfils the prophetic word that “all flesh” shall see the salvation that God is bringing through Jesus.

So I am undertaking the process that some call “apologetics”; writing a work that “speaks out” the meaning of the faith (that’s what “apologetics” means), reaching across the divisions of language and culture to explain a message from one context in a way that makes sense in another context. Like others who have done this before. I try to anticipate the difficulties and objections that might be raised, and try to provide ways that people of the Way can respond to these objections.

Yes, it is true that Jesus was a Jewish man, from Galilee, who taught in parables and debated Torah interpretation with the scribes, and went on pilgrimage to the Temple in Jerusalem—presumably to offer sacrifices to the Lord God. There’s no doubting his Jewishness. Nevertheless, I am certain that his teachings about the reign of God are applicable to people who do not know the God of Israel. So my two volumes show how the words of this Galilean prophet offer hope and salvation to Gentiles across the world.

And, you know, for a long time now, Jews have lived in many places beyond Jerusalem. There are many Jews that live in diaspora (in the Dispersion), and they have done so ever since the time of the Exile, when the people of Judea were taken away into captivity by the Babylonians. Many of them stayed where they were taken, married locals, learnt the language, planted vineyards, and established family businesses. And they emigrated elsewhere around the Mediterranean Sea—not just back to Israel, but to Egypt and to many other provinces which are under Roman rule.

So those of us who follow the Torah while we live in Diaspora have a particular interest in the teachings and the vision of this Galilean prophet.

Wait a minute: you said “those of us who follow the Torah while we live in Diaspora”, did you? But I thought you were a Gentile!

Yes, that’s a common misunderstanding. Just because I speak and write Greek, live outside Israel, in a strongly hellenised city amongst people who continue to worship many gods, and participate in public ceremonies along with other well-to-do citizens, does not mean that I am not one who keeps Torah. I believe in the one God, I follow the high ethical standards set out in Torah, and I take part in gatherings in the synagogue as often as I can, given my other civic duties.

Some people say that I am a “godfearer”, thinking that I am a Gentile who is attracted to the synagogue because of its high ethical standards. And that makes for a fairly easy transition to follow the way of Jesus, I must admit. I actually included a number of such characters in my second volume, you know: Cornelius, Lydia, some men attached to the synagogue in Antioch, Titius Justus and Crispus in Corinth, some leading women in Thessaloniki, and a group of some significant women and men in Beroea, for instance.

However, I was born, in diaspora, into a Jewish household. I was taught Torah as well as reading the literature of Greece and Rome. I have read from the scroll in the synagogue, just as I report Jesus doing—although I have never said “today this scripture has been fulfilled”, as he did! And yes, since you undoubtedly want to know, I am circumcised. I can read Hebrew, obviously, and can also speak our local language of Aramaic, just as Jesus did. And I am so pleased that I could report how Jesus, speaking in the synagogue after he read from the scroll, affirmed that God wants “release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, [and] to let the oppressed go free”, just as the prophet declared.

But all of this has not stood in the way of my reading and learning from Greek philosophers and historians, enjoying plays and poems by Greeks and Romans, as well as studying Torah and the teachings offered in the synagogue. I am a Jew, but I suppose you would say a very hellenised Jew. In fact, if there’s anyone in the work that I have written that I admire, and who I identify with—apart from Jesus himself—is Apollos of Alexandria. He’s quite cosmopolitan, well educated, and has a way with words. He was raised a Jew but has known about the Way of Jesus since the early days of John. I’d like to think I am rather like him.

If you had your time over again, what would you do differently with the story that you wrote?

There’s a couple of minor glitches that eagle-eyed readers of my work have drawn to my attention. The reference made by the Pharisee, Gamaliel, to the revolutionary Theudas was a slip of the pen: Gamaliel was speaking in the early 30s, but Theudas was active in the 40s. His uprising, which did not last long, was some years after the speech that I placed on the lips of Gamaliel! And I would remove the reference to the census that took place in Syria under Quirinius, as this confuses the matter. Some of my critics have said, wasn’t Jesus born when Herod was still alive? So I regret that error.

I think I should also clarify that the description of the Temple being surrounded and destroyed by the Roman army that I placed on the lips of Jesus was actually informed by my own knowledge of those events, as I have learnt about it from others closer to that event itself. I shouldn’t have had Jesus speak in such detail. I know that he was a prophet, and that he saw the ways that our people had become disobedient, but I don’t think his prophetic insight stretched quite as far as the specific details I provided.

And in contrast to those who say that I have confused the order of things in the account of the last supper that Jesus had with his disciples, I maintain that I got it right. A blessing over a cup of wine comes before a blessing over the bread—and then other blessings follow, including another blessing over another cup. At least, that’s the practice that I am used to.

In the same vein, to those who have criticised me for retaining the saying by Jesus about how “this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place”: I simply note that he said it! I think I have made it clear in other speeches of Jesus just how this expectation has already been modified and altered within the movement. Such reinterpretation is going on all the time!

Any final comments?

Thanks for giving me the chance to talk about my work, to explain some key things, and to set a few things right. I appreciate that. I hope everyone who reads it enjoys it and learns from it.

*****

What did “Theophilus” think about the work that “Luke” wrote? I have also written a series of Letters to Luke in which I imagine how his writings might have been received. You can find the links to these six letters at

Letters to Luke (an imaginative exercise)

*****

The above “interview” and these “letters” draw on the research on Luke and Acts that I have undertaken over the years, which has been published as:

The plan of God in Luke—Acts (CUP 1993)

“The plan of God in Acts” in The Witness of the Gospel: the Theology of Acts (ed. I.H. Marshall and D. Peterson; Eerdmans, 1998)

At table with Luke (UTC Publications, 2000)

A commentary on “The Acts of the Apostles” in the Eerdmans Commentary on the Bible (ed. J.D.G. Dunn and John Rogerson; Eerdmans, 2003)

“The Gospel of Luke” in the Cambridge Companion to the Gospels (ed.Stephen C. Barton and Todd Brewer; CUP, 2006)

Many of the blogs on this website also reflect this continuing research.

Letters to Luke (an imaginative exercise)

I have written series of posts offering imaginary letters from the ancient world, only recently “discovered”. The letters, we might imagine, could reflect what the recipient of the “orderly account of the things that have come to fulfilment ” (what we know as the Gospel of Luke), the man named Theophilus, wrote to the author of that work, as he received sections of the “orderly account” in sequence.

I make prayers on your behalf (Letters to Luke #1; Year C)

I rejoice in the gift of writing (Letters to Luke #2; Year C)

How exciting it was! (Letters to Luke #3; Year C)

I write briefly (Letters to Luke #4; Year C)

I am happy to report that we have held another reading (Letters to Luke #5; Year C)

I was astonished to receive your brief note (Letters to Luke #6; Year C)

These six “letters” formed one session of my presentations at a conference held at St Hilda’s College, University of Melbourne, in November 2000. The conference was entitled “Preaching and Teaching in the Year of Luke: a national conference on preaching, teaching and learning”. It was sponsored by the national Uniting Church agency, Uniting Education, in association with Otira, the Continuing Education agency of the Synod of Victoria. The keynote addresses were subsequently published as AT TABLE WITH LUKE (UTC Publications; UTC Bible Studies 2, 2000) ©John T. Squires 2000

Plucking grain, healing, and choosing twelve apostles (Narrative Lectionary for Epiphany 4C; Luke 6:1–16)

Continuing to offer us selections from Luke’s Gospel, this year, the Narrative Lectionary proposes a passage for this coming Sunday containing three distinct events. First, Jesus is engaged by some Pharisees while he “was going through the grainfields” (Luke 6:1–5). Next, after he “entered a synagogue and taught”, he healed “a man whose right hand was withered” (6:6–11). Then, after spending a night on a mountain in prayer, Jesus “called his disciples and chose twelve of them, whom he also named apostles” (6:12–16).

Each section contain words which presage significant elements in the time when Jesus was active. The question of the Pharisees, “why are you doing what is not lawful on the sabbath?” (6:2), is later thrown back on the Pharisees and scribes by Jesus in another healing scene (14:3), asked in a way that strongly suggests that what Jesus was doing was, indeed, in accordance with the provisions of Torah.

Still later, the assembly of “the elders of the people, both chief priests and scribes” accuse Jesus of three breaches of law, as they tell Pilate that he has been “perverting our nation, forbidding us to pay taxes to the emperor, and saying that he himself is the Messiah, a king” (23:2). Three times, Pilate refuses to accept these charges as proven: “I find no basis for an accusation against this man” (23:4); then “I have examined him in your presence and have not found this man guilty of any of your charges against him [and] neither has Herod … he has done nothing to deserve death” (23:14–15); and finally “I have found in him no ground for the sentence of death” (23:22).

We know, however, that the Pilate created by the writers of the Gospels eventually succumbs to the cries of the crowd; Luke reports that “Pilate gave his verdict that their demand should be granted … he handed Jesus over as they wished” (23:24–25). It’s almost like a counter-Trumpian scenario: we know he is in innocent, but we will backpedal and condemn him anyway. (With Trump, we know he is guilty, but the courts backpedal and dismiss the charges.)

The accusation of being “lawless”—a serious matter for a Torah-abiding Jew, such as Jesus (see my blog on Luke 4)—rears its head again in the sequel to Luke’s Gospel narrative, when one of the followers of Jesus who have all been faithful in their participation in the Temple rituals (Luke 24:53; Acts 2:46; 3:1; 5:42) is accused directly in words reminiscent of those brought against Jesus: “this man never stops saying things against this holy place and the law; for we have heard him say that this Jesus of Nazareth will destroy this place and will change the customs that Moses handed on to us” (6:13–14). Stephen, of course, goes to his death, just as Jesus did.

Following this pattern, later in Acts a crowd of “Jews from Asia” seized Paul in the Jerusalem Temple, who claim “this is the man who is teaching everyone everywhere against our people, our law, and this place; more than that, he has actually brought Greeks into the temple and has defiled this holy place” (Acts 21:28). Paul is subsequently brought before Roman authorities. The tribune in Caesarea referred him to Governor Felix, noting that “he was accused concerning questions of their law, but was charged with nothing deserving death or imprisonment” (23:29).

In Paul’s defence, he affirms “I worship the God of our ancestors, believing everything laid down according to the law or written in the prophets” (24:14), just as in Jerusalem he had maintained “I am a Jew, born in Tarsus in Cilicia, but brought up in this city at the feet of Gamaliel, educated strictly according to our ancestral law, being zealous for God” (22:3). Left in prison for two years, Paul is later brought before Governor Porcius Festus, who travels to Jerusalem to receive a report against Paul from “the chief priests and the leaders of the Jews” (25:2; see earlier 22:30), the same group (albeit of a later generation) which had charged Stephen (6:12; 7:1) and, before him, Jesus (Luke 22:66; 23:13–18).

Festus involves Agrippa and his consort Berenice; between the three of them they agree, “this man is doing nothing to deserve death or imprisonment” (26:31). Yet in a perverse result (once again seemingly counter-Trumpian), Agrippa notes that “this man could have been set free if he had not appealed to the emperor” (26:32).

So there is a strong thread running through the two-volume narrative which Luke has created: accused of breaking the law, Jesus and the leading figures in the movement initiated by him are steadfastly deemed to have been Torah-observant. So the Gospel reading for this Sunday sounds an important theme which receives extensive apologetic treatment in Luke’s narrative.

The theme is developed in the first two sections of the designated passage, where specific instances of “breaking the law” are narrated. In both stories, Jesus is accused of “working on the sabbath”: something that was prohibited in The Ten Words, in the command relating to the seventh day, when “you shall not do any work” (Exod 20:9–10; Duet 5:13–14; see also Lev 23:3; Jer 17:24).

However, a blanket prohibition like this needed some nuancing. What about “working” to prepare food and drink on the sabbath? What about “working” to attend to the animals kept on the farm on the sabbath? What about “working” to save a life on the sabbath? Commonsense would indicate that certain exemptions were necessary.

Of course, ongoing rabbinic discussion did canvass precisely that: just what were the acceptable exceptions and what were not. We have access to these originally oral discussions through the written text of the Mishnah, a third century CE collection of rabbinic discussions of Torah. In the second Division, Moed, “festivals” are considered, and the first of these is Shabbat, discussing who is “liable” and who is “exempt” in a whole range of situations. It is this written discussion which best informs the stories told in in Luke 6—even given that Luke wrote in the late C1st, while the Mishnah is an early C3rd document (which lays claim to providing accounts of earlier oral discussions).

In terms of the first issue—plucking grains of head on the sabbath—the debate is conducted with reference to relevant scripture texts. The primary text, as,we have noted, is “do no work on the sabbath”. However, Hebrew Scripture does contain indications of ways to moderate that commandment: in particular, the plucking of grain to assuage hunger was permitted (Deut 23:25).

When the disciples plucked the grain on the Sabbath, technically they were harvesting food and then processing it (rubbing it in their hands to create a floury substance). Now one part of scripture seems absolute on this matter: “Six days you shall work, but on the seventh day you shall rest; even in plowing time and in harvest time you shall rest” (Exod 34:21). The expectation was that people would prepare for Sabbath meals before the time of rest began on sundown on Friday (see Exod 16:23–26).

However, Jesus—like the Pharisees—does not simply let things rest there. It is not a matter of “this is what the text says; that settles it”. No; Jesus—like the Pharisees—makes use of the time-honoured debating technique of midrash to offer a different way of considering the issue, to propose a different line of interpretation.

We should note that Jesus does not criticise the law as such, but rather the Pharisees’ interpretation of it. He offers a different interpretation, drawing on another part of scripture—a story involving David from the narrative section of Hebrew Bible (1 Sam 21). In doing this, Jesus demonstrates the midrash technique so often used by Pharisees and, later, rabbis. Jesus uses this story to demonstrate that in some instances, circumstances can override the foundational law.

David breached the law by requesting, and receiving, from the priest Ahimelech some of the “holy bread” which was reserved for use only in the sanctuary. (In telling this story, Luke eliminates an error made in the early version found in Mark, where the high priest was mis-identified as Abiathar; see Luke 6:4 and cf. Mark 2:26.) The conclusion is an application of analogy (another method used by a Pharisees and rabbis): just as David was permitted to eat what was not lawful because of his great hunger, so Jesus was permitted to heal on the day when this normally was prohibited. That is, the circumstances justified the action.

We should note that Jesus, here, does not speak against the commandment itself (do not work on the sabbath). Rather, he shows how the application of a fundamental principle can be modified if there are circumstances that justify this. And that justification is provided by drawing from elsewhere in scripture to support the exemption.

We know from the later rabbinic literature that even amongst themselves, the Pharisees rarely agreed on the interpretation of any Law — many alternative interpretations exist in Mishnah, Tosefta, and Talmuds, for each of the commandments being discussed. In particular the Rabbinic schools of Hillel and Shammai were famous for their disagreements; far too often they offered different interpretations of the same law.

It’s a common Christian misconception that Jesus’ interpretations of the law are always new and very different from any Jewish interpretation. This is simply not the case. In this debate with some Pharisees, Jesus draws a conclusion that is often seen to be revolutionary. However, a number of rabbis, using Hebrew bible parallels (cf. Exodus 23:12; Deuteronomy 5:14) also stressed that the sabbath was for people as well as for their refreshment after labouring. One saying found in the Rabbinic writings (Mekilta on Exod, 31:14; b. Yoma 85b) declares that “the sabbath is handed over to you, not you to it”.

The principle can then be applied to the scene that follows, when in an unidentified synagogue on “another sabbath”, Jesus encounters the man with a withered hand. He heals him, again infuriating the scribes and the Pharisees who were watching on, waiting to trap him (Luke 6:6–11). After healing the man, Jesus quotes a principle—the priority of not doing harm, of saving life—demonstrating that human need can override the foundational principle of “no work on the sabbath” (6:9). Torah always needs to be explored and interpreted. Jesus does just that.

What’s in our character? For “Australia Day”, 26 January (part 2)

Today, 27 January, is the day after Australia Day, 26 January. But because that day fell, this year, on a Sunday, all state and territory governments have gazetted today as a public holiday. Because, you know, we neeeeeed that end-of-January long weekend!!

I have previously considered the use of the term “Australia” and thought about the names we use. See

What’s in a name? For “Australia Day”, 26 January (part 1)

Before 1788, there was no single name for the whole island continent. Some have claimed that the word bandaiyan was a name that referred to the entire continent of Australia. However, this is a Ngarinyin word, from the Kimberley region. It was not necessarily used by, or known to, any of the speakers of the 250 or more languages that were spoken (in what is now thought to be around 800 dialects) by others living on the continent.

It is estimated that there were 750,000 people living in the 500 or so First Nations located across this large island continent—and on many of the smaller islands associated with the larger continental landmass. Each of these language groups had their own terms for the country where they lived, on the land they had cared for since time immemorial.

Arthur Philip, in a July 1788 letter to William Petty, wrote: “It has been my determination from the time I landed, never to fire on the Natives, but in a case of absolute necessity, & I have been so fortunate as to have avoided it hitherto. I think they deserve a better Character than what they will receive from Monsr. La Perouse, who was under the disagreable necessity of firing on them. I think better of them from having been more with them. they do not in my opinion want personal Courage, they very readily place a confidence & are, I believe, strictly honest amongst themselves. most of the Men wanting the Right front tooth in the Upper Jaw, & most of the Women wanting the first & second joints of the little finger of the left hand, are circumstances not observed in Capt. Cooks Voyage.”

It is a tragedy that this irenic form of relationship did not continue through the early years of the Colony; and certainly, the string of massacres that took place throughout the 19th century, and into the 20th century, reflect the arrogant, imperialising mentality of the invading colonisers. “The Natives”, when they stood in the way of land acquisitions, were simply to be disposed of. The project in the University of Newcastle, led by Prof. Lyndal Ryan, currently identifies 438 seperate massacres of First Peoples, where a massacre involved the death of six or more people who were unable to defend themselves.

Each yellow dot represents the location of a massacre
documented by the University of Newcastle project.

This project currently lists over 10,000 deaths in total, but of course, as the stories of more sites are discovered, that number will grow. In an 1885 letter discovered during this research, a Bob McCracken writes about the Calvert Downs massacre of,earlier that year, stating that “killing odd ones or even twos or threes is no good, they are never missed and nothing but wholesale slaughter will do any good.”

Bob McCracken’s 1885 letter to his sister,
which details the Calvert Downs massacre.

These massacres form a massive collective stain on the consciences of modern white Australians who can trace their ancestors back onto those early decades of the Colony. How much do they signal,what is unfortunately increasingly evident in the Australian on the 2020s: we are less tolerant of “outsiders”, more likely to,turn our attacks (verbal, and physical), on “foreigners”, ready at times to shout “go back to where you came from” to people who look or sound different—even if they happen to have been born on this land! Is that an expression of our national character? I hope not.

We should reflect on these issues deeply this day, and each day, as we enjoy the benefits of our contemporary lifestyle.

I have consulted the following websites for this blog:

https://firstfleetfellowship.org.au/events/letter-from-governor-arthur-phillip/

https://c21ch.newcastle.edu.au/colonialmassacres/statistics.php

https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2022/mar/16/attempted-aboriginal-massacres-took-place-as-recently-as-1981-historian-says

https://c21ch.newcastle.edu.au/colonialmassacres/detail.php?r=1040

What’s in a name? For “Australia Day”, 26 January (part 1)

Today, 26 January, is Australia Day, by official government decree. It remembers the landfall on the eastern shores of this continent made by the British-appointed Governor Arthur Philip, his troops, and the convicts of what we now call The First Fleet. Prior to his departure from Britain, Phillip had received Instructions (composed by Lord Sydney) from King George III, “with the advice of his Privy Council”. These Instructions included Phillip’s Commission as Captain-General and Governor-in-Chief of New South Wales.

Despite extensive searching, these Instructions cannot be located in any library or state records office in Australia, nor in Britain. (Philip obviously had an inefficient PA !!) There is an amended Commission, located with the Public Record Office in London, dated 25 April 1787. This document designated the territory of New South Wales as including “all the islands adjacent in the Pacific Ocean” as well as the mainland mass running westward to the 135th meridian, that is, about mid-way through the continent. Such was the way of British imperialism.

We don’t know exactly what Philip said on 26 January 1788. He subsequently wrote a letter on 3 July that year to William Petty, 1st Marquess of Lansdowne and 2nd Earl of Shelburne, in which he explained that “Port Jackson … I have preferd to Botany bay as affording a more eligible Situation for the Colony, & being with out exception the finest Harbour in the World” and notes that “this Country will hereafter be a most Valuable acquisition to Great Brittain from its situation.”

That’s what we remember on Australia Day. This day has, of course, been celebrated on other days in the past. In 1915, it was held on 30 July. The Australian War Memorial notes that it was suggested to the Premier of NSW that “an ‘Australia Day’ [be held] as a way of drawing on the pride of Australians in their soldiers’ recent achievements at Gallipoli”. The next year, the Australia Day committee that had formed in 1915 to organise the war effort fundraising determined that it would be held on 28 July.

In NSW, since the time of Governor Lachlan Macquarie, 26 January had been commemorated as “Anniversary Day” or “Founders Day”. There are records from as early as 1808 of ex-convicts participating in “drinking and merriment” on the evening of 25 January to celebrate their new home. In Tasmania, by contrast, “Hobart Regatta Day” was established on 1 December 1838, to commemorate the anniversary of Abel Tasman’s discovery of the island he named Van Diemen’s Land, in 1642. In 1879 it was moved to be earlier in the year, in January or February.

The name “Australia” was further entrenched in the (un)imaginatively-named Western Australia. Overwest, “Foundation Day” has long been held on the first Monday in June, to commemorate the founding of the Swan River Colony in 1829. In the equally (un)imaginatively-named South Australia, “Proclamation Day” celebrated the date the government was established in South Australia as a British province, on 28 December 1836. It was when South Australia held its “founding day” celebrations for decades, until they unified with other states to celebrate “Australia Day” on 26 January. But there are still celebrations for “Proclamation Day” each year on 28 December.

By 1935, celebrations were held in all states on 26 January, although it was still known as “Anniversary Day” in NSW, and “Foundation Day” in other areas. The Sesquicentenary (150th anniversary) of British colonisation of Australia was widely celebrated in all state capitals in 1938. A significant protest took place on this day in 1938, when the Australian Natives Association held a “Day of Mourning”. The main celebrations were held in Sydney, but newspapers from others states show that the language of “Anniversary Day” had been adopted there for 26 January, recognising it to be a national date of significance. Its place in national life was, despite Indigenous protests, now settled.

In 1946, the Federal Government and all state governments agreed to unify all the state-based Australia Day celebrations and celebrate on 26 January as a country. The “Australia Day” public holiday was taken on the Monday closest to the 26th, giving the traditional “long weekend” in late January, which for many signalled the end of summer, the return to school and work.

Questioning of the celebratory status of Australia Day gained impetus during the 1988 Bicentenary, when many protests were staged across Australia, involving both Indigenous and non-Indigenous people. They wanted Australia Day to become a commemoration rather than a celebration of Australia’s history.

However, in 1994 the conservative Federal Government decided that the public holiday would be on the actual day of 26 January itself. And so it has been, for 31 years. (So that’s tomorrow: enjoy!)

For many centuries Europeans believed there must be a vast land in the southern hemisphere, which they called Terra Australis Incognita, a Latin phrase for “the Unknown South Land”. (In Latin, austral means “south”.) A few decades after the 1788 British invasion and colonisation of the lands around Port Jackson (Sydney Harbour), Matthew Flinders circumnavigated the continent in 1803. Flinders used the name “Australia” to describe the continent on a hand drawn map in 1804. That map was published in 1814 and the continent was named “Terra Australis”.

Dutch explorers had been referring to the continent as “New Holland” since the 17th century. On colonising the region, the British had initially named the Colony “New South Wales”, and that name, of course, has continued to be used to apply to various eastern parts of the continent. In 1817, however, Governor Lachlan Macquarie endorsed the name “Australia” to replace “New Holland” in a dispatch to the Colonial Office in London; over time, this name came into common local usage.

By 1824 the British Admiralty started to officially use the name, and the term “Australia” was first used in British legislation which decreed that British law was to apply to the two colonies of “New South Wales” (named in reminiscence of a region in Britain that the landscape allegedly reflected) and Van Diemen’s Land (named after its Dutch “discoverer”). Other state names that came later managed to reference the main name of “Australia” (South, or Western), as well as Victoria (in the state of the same name), the long-reigning British monarch (reflected in Queensand).

More to come tomorrow (on the public holiday), reflecting further on what it is that we “celebrate” on this day …

What’s in our character? For “Australia Day”, 26 January (part 2)

*****

I have consulted the following websites for this blog:

https://www.library.gov.au/research/research-guides-0/where-name-australia-came

https://www.sbs.com.au/voices/article/the-many-different-dates-weve-celebrated-australia-day/vuhb3ar1c

https://www.abc.net.au/news/2025-01-24/australia-day-public-holiday-janaury-26-sunday/104837212

https://www.foundingdocs.gov.au/item-did-35.html

https://firstfleetfellowship.org.au/events/letter-from-governor-arthur-phillip/

Because of the connection with the arrival of British imperial colonizers and their subsequent expanding “settlement”, do we need to change the date? For a fun discussion of “change the date”, see

So, change the date—to what?

	Michelle on Why Jesus never did, and never…
	John T Squires on Why Jesus never did, and never…
	Michelle on Why Jesus never did, and never…
	Karen M Brown O.A.M. on Wisdom from ages past for the…
	John T Squires on Controversy, Context, and Crea…

	Michelle on Why Jesus never did, and never…
	John T Squires on Why Jesus never did, and never…
	Michelle on Why Jesus never did, and never…
	Karen M Brown O.A.M. on Wisdom from ages past for the…
	John T Squires on Controversy, Context, and Crea…