By Ryan Leasure

It’s not uncommon for Christians to throw shade on the Old Testament. These Christians say they love Jesus, but they could do without those primitive Jewish texts. In fact, many Christians suggest that much of the Old Testament is ahistorical. Events such as the flood, Jonah being swallowed by a big fish, or the fiery judgment of Sodom and Gomorra never happened. And then there’s the infamous quote that Christians simply need to “unhitch themselves from the Old Testament” because much of it is embarrassing or difficult to understand. Why can’t we just focus on Jesus instead?

We can certainly sympathize with these sentiments. After all, the flood and Sodom’s judgment seem pretty incredible and kind of harsh to boot! Wouldn’t it just be easier to disregard this ancient corpus? This position seems reasonable until one realizes that the same Jesus these Christians adore also happens to hold the Old Testament in high regard. Not only does he affirm the Old Testament’s inspiration, he also affirms its historicity and authority.

The Old Testament is Inspired

Historically, Christians have affirmed the verbal plenary inspiration of the Bible. That is to say, they recognize that every word of Scripture is “God-breathed” (2 Tim 3:16-17). At the same time, God spoke through human agency. Therefore, Scripture not only has a divine author, it has human authors as well.

Jesus affirmed the human authors of the Old Testament. Repeatedly, he recognizes that Moses is the one who gave the Law (Matt 8:4; 19:8; Mark 1:44; 7:10; Luke 5:14; 20:37; John 5:46; 7:19). He’ll say things like “do what Moses commanded” (Mark 1:44). Or “Moses said, Honor your father and your mother” (Mark 7:10). With respect to other Old Testament authors, Jesus declares, “Well did Isaiah prophesy . . .” (Mark 7:6). Also, “David himself, in the Holy Spirit, declared . . .” (Mark 12:36). And “So when you see the abomination of desolation spoken of by the prophet Daniel . . .”(Matt 24:15). It’s worth noting that just about all critical scholars call into question the authorship of these individuals in clear contradiction to Jesus.

At the same time, Jesus affirms that these individuals wrote divinely inspired Scripture. As was just alluded to, Jesus noted in Mark 12:36, “David himself, in the Holy Spirit, declared, . . .” In other words, David wrote, but his writings were the result of the Holy Spirit’s work (2 Pet 1:20-21). He also declared “Well did Isaiah prophesy . . .” (Mark 7:6). The mere mention of prophecy suggests that Isaiah wrote from God. Prophecy, after all, is by definition “a word from God.” The same could be said for Matthew 24:15 when Jesus refers to Daniel as “the prophet.” Moreover, when speaking to the scribes and Pharisees, Jesus asserts, “You leave the commandment of God and hold to the tradition of men” (Mark 7:8). He then goes on to clarify that the commandment of God was what Moses wrote in Exodus 20.

As John Wenhan notes, “To [Jesus], Moses, the prophets, David and the other Scripture-writers were truly inspired men with a message given by the Spirit of God.”1

The Old Testament is Historically Accurate

While many are willing to grant the Old Testament’s inspiration, many of these same individuals deny that it’s historically accurate at every point. They might affirm its historical nature in general (God created the world, called Abraham and the Jewish people, the Jews were exiled, etc.), but they balk at some of the more challenging texts (the flood, Sodom, Jonah, etc.). That said, Jesus has no qualms about affirming the historical nature of the Old Testament—even the most difficult texts to believe. Here are a few examples:

He believed that Cain killed Abel (Luke 11:51), that God sent a flood but spared Noah in the ark (Matt 24:37-39), and that God destroyed Sodom because of their wickedness (Matt 11:23-24). He even adds, “Remember Lot’s wife” (Luke 17:32). Additionally, Jesus believed that God sent down manna from heaven (John 6:31), the Israelites were healed by looking at the serpent (John 3:14), and that Jonah was swallowed by a big fish only to be regurgitated three days later (Matt 12:39-41).

The last text about Jonah is especially significant because it demonstrates that Jesus didn’t simply view these events figuratively. For the end of the text reads, “The men of Nineveh will rise up at the judgment with this generation and condemn it, for they repented at the preaching of Jonah, and behold, something greater than Jonah is here” (Matt 12:41). It’s hard to imagine how Jesus could assert that Ninevah would rise up in the final judgment against the people who rejected him if they were make-believe. The same could be said for Jesus’ statement in Matthew 24:37: “For as were the days of Noah, so will be the coming of the Son of Man.” In other words, just as God’s judgment was poured out in the days of Noah, so it will be again in the final judgment.

Again, Wenham remarks, “It is evident that [Jesus] was familiar with most of our Old Testament and that he treated it all equally as history.”2

The Old Testament is Authoritative

Because Jesus believed the Old Testament was divinely-inspired, he also affirmed its full authority. He demonstrated this authority by appealing to the scriptures dozens of times.

When asked what were the greatest commandments, he declares that “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart with all your soul and with all your mind. . . And the second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Matt 22:37-39). Jesus said that these two commands (Deut 6:4-6; Lev 19:18) sum up the totality of the Old Testament and are the guide to all ethical matters.

When facing temptation, Jesus appealed to the authority of Scripture to do battle against Satan. He repeatedly declares, “it is written, it is written, it is written” (Matt 4:1-11). Even as he was facing death, the final words on his lips were words from the Old Testament (Psalm 22:1; 31:5).

Jesus appeals to Genesis 1-2 when speaking about marriage and divorce. He asks, “Have you not read that he who created them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, ‘Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh?’ So they are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let no man separate” (Matt 19:4-6). By alluding to Genesis 1-2 here, Jesus asserts that his position on marriage and divorce is rooted in the authority of the Old Testament text. By contrast, Jesus’ opponents rooted their position in different Rabbis (Shammai and Hillel).

When disputing with the Sadducess about the resurrection, Jesus scolds them, “You are wrong, because you know neither the Scriptures nor the power of God” (Matt 22:29). In other words, the Scriptures give us the definitive, authoritative word about the resurrection. Jesus goes on to question them, “Have you not read what was said to you by God, I am the God of Abraham . . .?” (Matt 31-32) Again, Jesus appeals to the Old Testament text to assert God’s power over the resurrection.

Jesus goes so far as to state that “Scripture cannot be broken” (John 10:35). For Jesus, Scripture is so powerful, nothing can undo it.

Jesus and the Old Testament

All the evidence taken together suggests that Jesus held a high view of the Old Testament. Those who claim to hold Jesus in high regard but reject some of the Old Testament’s teachings are being inconsistent. If you hold Jesus in high regard, you must hold the Old Testament in high regard as well. As John Wenham notes:

“To Christ the Old Testament was true, authoritative, inspired. To him the God of the Old Testament was the living God, and the teaching of the Old Testament was the teaching of the living God. To him, what Scripture said, God said.” 3

*For more on this topic, see John Wenham’s book Christ and the Bible.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

Old Testament vs. New Testament God: Anger vs. Love? (MP3 Set) (DVD Set) (mp4 Download Set) by Dr. Frank Turek 

Jesus, You and the Essentials of Christianity by Frank Turek (INSTRUCTOR Study Guide), (STUDENT Study Guide), and (DVD)      

 

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Ryan Leasure is a pastor at Grace Bible Church in Moore, SC. For more on his background and interests, click here.

Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/rQYMyUQ

 

By Erik Manning

If you want people to trust their leaders, you usually would try to paint them in the best light possible. You don’t go out of your way to undermine their authority. But that isn’t what we see at all in the Gospels. Those who would eventually lead the church often look impulsive, incompetent, boastful, and stupid. If the Gospels are supposed to be PR for the apostles, their propaganda team was a dismal failure.

This kind of information is what NT scholars call the criteria of embarrassment. In his book, Marginal Jew, Meier writes:

The point of the criterion is that the early church would hardly have gone out of its way to create material that only embarrassed its creator or weakened its position in arguments with opponents. 

Marginal Jew

Those Faithless Disciples

Let’s look at the Gospel of Mark since most believe it is the earliest Gospel. Mark tells us that the disciples were often faithless. When encountered by a storm when crossing a lake, the disciples panicked. (Mk 4:35-41) They brazenly accused Jesus of not caring about them, and Jesus rebuked them for not having any faith. They were also terrified to see Jesus walking on the water only two chapters later. (Mk 6:50)

When a man brought his demonized son to his followers, the disciples were too incompetent to give the boy any help. Jesus chided them for their lack of faith. (Mk 9:17-19) Mark also tells us that Jesus’ own family thought that he was nuts. (Mk 3:21) Later we read in Acts, 1 Corinthians, and Galatians that James and Jesus’ other siblings became leaders in the church. (Acts 15, 1 Cor 9:5, Galatians 1-2) So far, the future heads of Jesus’ church look like a sorry bunch.

The Disciples Were Slow 

Mark also tells us that the disciples were extremely slow on the uptake. They asked questions about Jesus’ parables that he expected them, of all people, to understand. His main points were often lost on them. (Mk 4:137:18)

Jesus had previously fed a crowd of 5000 and later 4000 with a few loaves and fish. Shortly afterward, Jesus said that they should beware of the leaven of the Pharisees. What did the disciples do in response? They fussed with each other because they forgot to pack bread for their boat trip across the lake. Jesus had to remind them that food was neither his point nor an issue. That should’ve been obvious by then. (Mk 8:14-21)

The Disciples Were Rude

The disciples were notoriously bad-mannered. As I mentioned earlier, they accused Jesus of not caring about them when he was sleeping during the storm. Peter had the genius idea of rebuking Jesus when he said he was going to sacrifice himself. Jesus called Peter Satan in response, so yeah, that didn’t go over big. (Mk 8:31-33)

When people brought small children to be blessed by Jesus, like ogres, his disciples tried to run them off. (Mk 10:13-14) When the woman anointed Jesus’ feet with costly perfume, Mark tells us that “they rebuked her harshly.”  Not a smooth move. Jesus emphatically told them to leave her alone. She had more value for Jesus than they all did put together. (Mk 14:4-9)

The disciples fought over who was the greatest, and John and James had the brass to ask Jesus if they could sit at his right and left hand when he came into his kingdom. (Mk 9:33-3410:35-37) They clearly didn’t understand the kind of servant-leadership that Jesus was modeling.

The Going Got Tough, The Disciples Ran

In Jesus’ darkest hour, they bragged about being willing to die before abandoning him. (Mk 14:31) While Jesus was praying they all fell asleep. (Mk 14:37-42) And when he was arrested, they all fled. (Mk 14:50) Peter ended up denying him three times when pressed by a servant girl (Mark 14:66-72), and they all were AWOL on the day of the resurrection. (Mk 16:1-9) Even though Jesus repeatedly told them he’d rise again three days later. (Mk 8:31-329:30-3210:32-3414:28) Even atheist scholars like Gerd Ludemann use the criteria of embarrassment when arguing for the historicity of Peter’s denial. (The Resurrection of Christ, p 162)

Finally, who actually showed up at the tomb? The women (Mk 16:1). They were the first eyewitnesses to the empty tomb. This is itself an embarrassing detail, as a woman’s testimony in the 1st-century context carried very little weight.

  • “But let not the testimony of women be admitted, on account of the levity and boldness of their sex” … (Josephus, Antiquities, 4.8.15).
  • “Any evidence which a woman [gives] is not valid (to offer)” … (Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 1.8c).

Luke tells us that the disciples thought the women’s testimony was “nonsense.” They didn’t believe them. (Luke 24:11) 100 years later Celsus would mock the Christians for believing the tales of a hysterical woman. (Contra Celsum 2.54)

Again, if this is supposed to be Christian propaganda to make their leaders look good, or make the resurrection story more plausible, the Gospel writers caused problems for themselves. In the words of scholar NT Wright:

“As historians, we are obliged to comment that if these stories had been made up five years later, let alone thirty, forty, or fifty years later, they would never have had Mary Magdalene in this role. To put Mary there is, from the point of view of Christian apologists wanting to explain to a skeptical audience that Jesus really did rise from the dead, like shooting themselves in the foot. But to us as historians, this kind of thing is gold dust. The early Christians would never, never have made this up.”

The Resurrection of the Son of God

Embarrassing Details In Acts

And it’s not like things are hunky-dory in the Book of Acts, either. You know, that book about the apostles taking over after Jesus. You would think Luke would make them look like they finally got their act together. Instead, we see that Paul and Barnabas got in a big tiff over bringing Mark (the future Gospel writer!) because Mark got homesick and left them in the middle of ministry earlier. (Acts 15:36-40) Mark is later mentioned in Paul’s letters, so apparently, things got patched up later. (Philemon 24)

There was also racist bickering going on in the infant church in Jerusalem because the Hellenized Jewish widows were being neglected in the daily distribution of food. (Acts 6:1)

And even though Jesus told them to take the Gospel to the entire world it took a special vision for Peter to finally understand that it was OK to preach to those unclean Gentiles seemingly years later. (Acts 10)

What Real Christian Propaganda Looks Like

Luke and Mark hardly make the apostles out to be saints. Now compare this to other Christian propaganda. Eusebius wrote a biography of Emperor Constantine that was very charitable, to say the least. He slyly omits that Constantine had his own son Crispus and his other wife Fausta killed. Eusebius instead makes Constantine out to be a super saint. Now that is what real propaganda looks like.

It is hard to imagine the early Christians inventing embarrassments for themselves when they already had enough problems from persecution! And yet, it is difficult to read the Gospel of Mark without getting a negative impression of the apostles. Again, this is the earliest of the Gospels according to most scholars. Eyewitnesses would still be around, including some of the apostles. These negative statements are strong indications that these things were really said. NT scholar C.E.B. Cranfield concludes:

“The fact that the perplexing and offensive material…was preserved at all and reached Mark says much for the general reliability of the sources used by him.”

These self-damaging materials are one more reason why we can trust the Gospels. This kind of evidence doesn’t by itself prove that the Gospels are reliable, but it does lend some support to that view. It’s one part of a much larger cumulative case.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

The New Testament: Too Embarrassing to Be False by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3, and Mp4)

Why We Know the New Testament Writers Told the Truth by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3 and Mp4)

 

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Erik Manning is a Reasonable Faith Chapter Director located in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. He’s a former freelance baseball writer and the co-owner of the vintage and handmade decor business with his wife, Dawn. He is passionate about the intersection of apologetics and evangelism.

Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/MQacEd6

 

By Ryan Leasure

The Gospel according to John has received more scrutiny than the other Gospels put together. Case in point, dating back to the 1920s, critical scholars have argued that the apostle John could not have written the Gospel. Rather, they’ve suggested a whole slew of other possibilities (anonymous, John the Elder, Lazarus, John Mark, the rich young ruler, etc.) But is there any evidence to back up their contentions? Should we reject the traditional position which the church has subscribed to for almost two thousand years?

In this post, I will argue that John the son of Zebedee penned the fourth Gospel. I will make my case in three steps: First, I will examine the external evidence. Second, I will examine the internal evidence. And third, I will refute the common objections.

External Evidence for John’s Authorship

Writing around AD 180, Irenaeus of Lyons wrote, “John, the disciple of the Lord, who also had leaned upon His breast, did himself publish a Gospel during his residence at Ephesus in Asia.”1 In other words, Irenaeus declares that John wrote the fourth Gospel while living in Ephesus. And this John should be identified with the disciple whom Jesus loved and reclined on Jesus’ breast in John 13:23.

How would Irenaeus be privy to such information? He claims to be a spiritual grandson of John himself! Pay careful attention to how Irenaeus reminisces about his childhood experiences.

I remember the events of those days more clearly than those which have happened recently, . . . so I can speak even of the place in which the blessed Polycarp sat and disputed, how he came in and went out, the character of his life, the appearance of his body, the discourse which he made to the people, how he reported his converse with John and with the others who had seen the Lord, how he remembered their words, and what were the things concerning the Lord which he had heard from them, including his miracles and his teaching, and how Polycarp had received them from the eyewitnesses of the word of life, and reported all things in agreement with the Scriptures.2

Notice that Irenaeus claims to have been taught by Polycarp who was taught by John. That is to say, Irenaeus was in a position to know if John was the author of the fourth Gospel.

Other church fathers also affirm John’s authorship. Clement of Alexandria—also writing around AD 180—stated, “But that John, last of all, conscious that the outward facts had been set forth in the Gospels, was urged on by his disciples, and, divinely moved by the Spirit, composed a spiritual Gospel.”3

The Muratorian Fragment—a late second-century document—states plainly, “The fourth of the Gospels is that of John, [one] of the disciples.”

And finally, writing a couple of decades later, Tertullian reports, “Of the apostles, therefore, John and Matthew first instill faith into us; whilst of apostolic men, Luke and Mark renew it afterwards.” 4

On top of all this, every titled manuscript of the Gospel lists John as its author. In short, the early church affirmed that John wrote the fourth Gospel.

Internal Evidence for John’s Authorship

John 21:24 reports, “This is the disciple who is bearing witness about these things, and who has written these things, and we know that his testimony is true.” Which disciple is this? Verse 20 tell us. “Peter turned and saw the disciple whom Jesus loved following them, the one who also had leaned back against him during the supper.” In other words, the disciple whom Jesus loved and leaned on Jesus’ breast (John 13:23) wrote this Gospel.

But who is this mysterious disciple whom Jesus loved? He was certainly one of the twelve at the Last Supper (John 13:23). The synoptics make clear that only the apostles joined Jesus for this meal. Moreover, the disciple whom Jesus loved is repeatedly distinguished from Peter (John 13:23-24; 20:2-9; 21:20). Finally, he is one of the seven disciples who went fishing in chapter 21:2. That said, he cannot be Peter, Thomas, or Nathanael. He is, therefore, either one of the sons of Zebedee or one of the other two unnamed disciples that were present at the Sea of Galilee in John 21. It must be said, however, that James the son of Zebedee died in the early 40s, which rules him out as a potential author.

An additional note worth mentioning is that John is never mentioned by name in the Gospel. His absence would be extremely odd if someone else wrote this Gospel. After all, the Gospel mentions other prominent characters like Peter and Andrew and even less familiar characters like Philip and Judas (not Iscariot). Moreover, while the synoptic Gospels all refer to the forerunner of Jesus’ ministry as John the Baptist (it was necessary to distinguish him from the other prominent John), this Gospel only refers to him as John. In other words, the author did not feel it necessary to distinguish that John from himself.

Finally, John and Peter are repeatedly shown as close companions in the synoptic Gospels, Acts, and Galatians (Mark 5:37; 14:33; Acts 3:1-4:23; Gal. 2:9). Similarly, the fourth Gospel puts Peter and the disciple whom Jesus loved together frequently (13:23-24; 20:2-10; 21:20-23).

The most plausible explanation for this data is that John is the disciple whom Jesus loved, and therefore, the author of the fourth Gospel.

Answering Objections

One of the more frequently cited reasons for rejecting Johannine authorship is the self-description “the one whom Jesus loved.” In other words, John seems rather full of himself to give himself this title. This objection, however, should not deter us from accepting traditional authorship. After all, what Christian doesn’t affirm that God loves them? There is nothing boastful about making this claim. On the contrary, its the mark of humble gratitude. As Carson and Moo assert, it “is scarcely the mark of arrogance; it is rather the mark of brokenness.”5 Paul, for example, declares that Christ “loved me and gave himself for me” (Gal. 2:20). Nothing arrogant about that. Just plain awe and gratitude.

Another frequent objection to the tradition view is that the early church thought a different John wrote the Gospel. This objection stems from a quotation from Papias who mentions a particular “elder John” in addition to the “apostle John.” However, as Carson and Moo point out, the Greek syntax Papias uses, namely the anaphoric use of the article for the second John, strongly suggests that “elder John” and “apostle John” are really the same person.6 Also noteworthy is that Peter calls himself an “elder” in 1 Peter 5:1. In other words, the apostles also understood themselves as elders in the early church. Both 2 and 3 John are said to be by “the elder,” and Papias may simply be echoing that language.

A third objection is that an uneducated Galilean fisherman never could have penned this Greek Gospel. This objection fails on multiple fronts as well. First, while Acts 4:13 states that Peter and John were “uneducated,” that description does not imply that they were illiterate. “Uneducated” simply means that they hadn’t been officially trained in Jewish Rabbinical schools—not unlike Jesus (John 7:15). In fact, most Jewish boys received an education so that they could read the Scriptures. Moreover, John came from wealth (his father owned a large fishing business—Luke 5:3,10; Mark 1:20). Therefore, he most likely received an excellent education.

Recent studies also suggest that Palestinian Jews were often able to speak both Aramaic and Greek.7 With the discovery of Greek coins, Judean-Greek documents, Greek names on burial inscriptions, and even a Greek-speaking synagogue, it’s not unreasonable to think John wrote this Gospel. These pieces of evidence don’t even take into account that John had several decades in Greek-speaking Ephesus to brush up on his Greek before writing his Gospel.

The Gospel According to John

Based on the external and internal evidence, John the son of Zebedee is the author of the fourth Gospel. While the objections cannot be ignored, none of them undermine the evidence in favor of traditional authorship.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

The New Testament: Too Embarrassing to Be False by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3, and Mp4)

Why We Know the New Testament Writers Told the Truth by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3 and Mp4)

Jesus, You and the Essentials of Christianity by Frank Turek (INSTRUCTOR Study Guide), (STUDENT Study Guide), and (DVD)

     

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Ryan Leasure holds a Master of Arts from Furman University and a Masters of Divinity from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. Currently, he’s a Doctor of Ministry candidate at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He also serves as a pastor at Grace Bible Church in Moore, SC.

Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/InPkO6A

 

By Ryan Leasure

Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead is one of the most well-known stories in the Gospels. Yet, for some reason, Matthew, Mark, and Luke don’t mention it. This head-scratching absence has raised a lot of doubts about its historicity. After all, this story seems too significant to leave out. As you can imagine, skeptics think John made it up. But could there be a good reason that the earlier Gospels left it out?

While it does seem strange that the synoptic writers would leave out this story, I believe we have a good explanation for its absence in what Gerd Theissen calls “protective anonymity.”[1]

Pre-Markan Tradition

Protective anonymity is based on the premise that a pre-Markan tradition stands behind the passion narrative in Mark 14-16. In other words, while Mark composed much of his Gospel based on Peter’s eyewitness testimony, the last few chapters came from another source that dates much closer to the time of Jesus’ death and resurrection. While biblical scholars are somewhat divided on this issue, the evidence tilts in favor of this pre-Markan source.

For example, scholars have long noted that Mark didn’t arrange the pericopes (e.g., miracles, parables, proclamations, narratives, exorcisms, etc.) chronologically. Rather, he ordered them in ways that suited his purposes. In fact, Matthew and Luke’s orders often diverge from Mark’s. Meaning, Mark could have easily rearranged the stories in a different order without impacting the overall message. However, when one gets to the passion narrative, the entire account presupposes a chronological order. Instead of one short story after another, the entire passion account (ch. 14-16, possibly ch. 11-16) flows like one continuous narrative. Certainly, Mark could have composed these last few chapters himself. But a few features from the text suggest that it was composed earlier and in Jerusalem.

One reason for adopting this view is that Mark mentions “the high priest” but never mentions him by name (Caiaphas). This phrasing would be akin to saying “the president” instead of President Biden. If I had a conversation with someone today and mentioned “the president,” no one would think I was talking about Trump, Obama, Bush, or any other previous president. They would assume I was talking about our current president. The same could be said for Caiaphas. Since he ruled till AD 37, the passion narrative that merely refers to him as “the high priest” must have been in circulation before his tenure ended.

Another reason for thinking that the passion account is early and from Jerusalem is the mention of “James the younger” in Mark 15:40. Theissen argues, “It would have been particularly necessary in Jerusalem to distinguish a ‘James the younger’ (or ‘the less’) from the ‘older’ (or ‘greater’).”[2] He suggests that “James the younger” was the brother of Jesus, and “James the older” was the Son of Zebedee. If Theissen is right, then the need to distinguish the two James would have been necessary in Jerusalem where “James the younger” was overseer of the church. Furthermore, the need to distinguish the two James would only be necessary until AD 44 when “James the older” died.

One more reason for thinking the passion narrative is a pre-Markan tradition is the mention of “the insurrection” in which Barabbas was involved (Mark 15:7). Jews, however, were familiar with a significant uprising led by Theudas in AD 44-45 (Acts 5:36).[3] One would think that if Mark wrote this passion account in the 50s or 60s, he would have been careful to distinguish which uprising Barabbas participated in. The mere mention of “the insurrection” suggests that this narrative pre-dates the insurrection led by Theudas in AD 44-45. 

Protective Anonymity

With the pre-Markan tradition established, we are now in a position to answer the question of why Lazarus is never mentioned. Theissen argues that people are left anonymous or unmentioned because if their names got back to the Jerusalem authorities, they could be implicated as accomplices in Jesus’ “revolt.”

Consider the person who cut off the ear of the high priest’s servant in Mark 14:47. Mark never mentions him by name. He simply notes that “one of those who stood by drew his sword and struck the servant of the high priest and cut off his ear.” Mark doesn’t even make it clear if this is one of Jesus’ disciples. It’s not until John’s Gospel—written around AD 90—that we discover that the identity of this sword-wielding character is none other than Peter himself. John no longer feels the need to protect Peter’s identity because he was long dead by now. Since Peter most likely would have faced arrest for this attempted murder on the high priest’s servant, this early pre-Markan tradition kept him anonymous.

Another case of protective anonymity is the woman who anointed Jesus in Mark 14:3-9. Her actions would undoubtedly make her an accomplice in Jesus’ messianic “revolt.” Bauckham remarks,

At the time when this tradition took shape in this form in the early Jerusalem church, this woman would have been in danger were she identified as having been complicit in Jesus’ political subversive claim to messianic kingship. Her danger was perhaps even greater than that of the man who attacked the servant of the high priest, for it was she who had anointed Jesus as Messiah.[4]

It’s worth noting that Judas immediately betrayed Jesus to the authorities following the anointing. Once again, it’s John who reveals the identity of this woman as Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, when she no longer needed protective anonymity.

Lazarus

If we are right to believe that the pre-Markan passion narrative intentionally kept people anonymous for their protection, we could understand how it would leave Lazarus out of the story altogether. After all, John 12:10-11 notes that “the chief priests made plans to put Lazarus to death as well, because on account of him many of the Jews were going away and believing in Jesus.” That is to say, Lazarus was a thorn in the side of the Jewish leaders because he was convincing Jews to become Christians by simply walking around. Because Jewish leaders continued to persecute the early church for decades, this early passion narrative had to leave him out of the story altogether for his own protection.

However, some have argued that perhaps Lazarus does sneak into Mark’s passion narrative after all. During Jesus’ arrest, we read, “And a young man followed him, with nothing but a linen cloth about his body. And they seized him, but he left the linen cloth and ran away naked” (Mark 14:51-52). Without sounding too immature, I laugh every time I read about this anonymous streaker. Yet, this account is more significant than it may appear. With all the commotion going on (Peter had just whacked off someone’s ear), none of the disciples probably observed this scene. They had already “left him and fled” (Mark 14:50). Therefore, this story must go back to the eyewitness testimony of the streaker himself.

Again, his anonymity was necessary for his protection. After all, the only reason he must have fled naked is because he resisted the guards. Once they grabbed him, he was able to slip away, leaving his linen cloth behind. Undoubtedly, the Jewish leaders would have been looking to arrest this man who fought against them.

So who was this man? Some have argued that it was Lazarus. Wanting to still acknowledge Lazarus’ importance, this early account allows him this brief and very comical appearance. Others have argued that this person is John Mark himself. Like Alfred Hitchcock appearing in one of his own films or an artist painting himself into his picture, Mark inserted himself into the narrative. I don’t think we can know for sure. Although I kind of hope it’s Mark. That just makes for a better story.

[1] Gerd Theissen, The Gospels in Context.

[2] Gerd Theissen, The Gospels in Context, 178.

[3] Josephus, Antiquities, 20.97-98.

[4] Richard Bauckham, Jesus, and the Eyewitnesses, 2nd ed. 290.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

The New Testament: Too Embarrassing to Be False by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3, and Mp4)

Why We Know the New Testament Writers Told the Truth by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3 and Mp4)

 

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Ryan Leasure holds a Master of Arts from Furman University and a Master of Divinity from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. Currently, he’s a Doctor of Ministry candidate at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He also serves as a pastor at Grace Bible Church in Moore, SC.

Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/Mb80NbD

 

By Ryan Leasure

Modern critics doubt that eyewitnesses stand behind the four Gospels. In fact, they argue that the first followers of Jesus told others about Jesus who told others about Jesus who told others about Jesus, and eventually someone wrote all those stories down—much like the game of telephone. According to this theory, anonymous figures wrote the Gospels in places like Turkey, Greece, and Rome.

Biblical scholar Richard Bauckham begs to differ. One of the more brilliant ways Bauckham pushed back against the form criticism of the early twentieth century was to highlight that the names in the Gospels correspond to the names in the broader Palestinian record. In other words, one would expect a slew of unrealistic Palestinian names (like Marcus or Gaius) if someone was merely writing hearsay from across the Roman Empire. This point is especially true when one considers that the Jewish names across the Empire were radically different from the Palestinian Jewish names. The fact that the Gospels give realistic names suggests that the accounts can be traced back to Palestine itself.

But Bauckham also looks at the names from a different angle to provide further support for eyewitness testimony. He argues that the presence of certain names seems highly unusual unless they were the eyewitness sources behind their stories.

Anonymous by Default

Most of the people in the Gospels are anonymous. Besides the disciples, government officials, and a few key figures, just about everyone else remains anonymous. Allow me to give you some samples from Luke:

  • Luke 5:12 — “While he was in one of the cities, there came a man full of leprosy.”
  • Luke 6:6 — “On another Sabbath, he entered the synagogue and was teaching, and a man was there whose right hand was withered.”
  • Luke 7:2 — “Now a centurion had a servant who was sick and at the point of death, who was highly valued by him.”
  • Luke 8:43 — “And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and though she had spent all her living on physicians, she could not be healed by anyone.”
  • Luke 10:25 — “And behold, a lawyer stood up to put him to the test, saying, ‘Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?’”
  • Luke 13:14 — “But the ruler of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had healed on the Sabbath, said to the people, ‘There are six days in which work ought to be done. Come on those days and be healed, and not on the Sabbath day.’”

I could list more. By my count fifty-one anonymous characters appear in Luke. This does not count large groups such as the five thousand or the seventy-two. Nor does this list include generic statements where Jesus heals “many” or interacts with a crowd.

Since obscure characters are usually anonymous, we should take notice when one of them gets mentioned.

Simon of Cyrene

Mark mentions three obscure figures in Mark 15:21. He notes, “And they compelled a passerby, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to carry his cross.” It’s noteworthy that none of these three figures show up anywhere else in the narrative. Moreover, while Matthew and Luke also mention Simon of Cyrene, they leave out his two sons. What best explains this phenomena?

Church tradition suggests that Mark’s Gospel is more or less Peter’s account of things. Yet, Peter wasn’t in all places at all times. In fact, he drops out of the narrative in the previous chapter. He’s presumably in hiding after Jesus’ arrest. So how would Peter or Mark know that Simon carried Jesus’ cross? Who’s testimony stands behind this story?

It most certainly has to be Simon of Cyrene. Furthermore, the mention of his two sons Alexander and Rufus suggests that Mark expected his readers to know who they were. In fact, if Mark wrote his Gospel in Rome (as tradition suggests), it’s reasonable to believe that the church heard this story from Alexander and Rufus themselves. Think about it. Alexander and Rufus must have heard the story dozens of times from their dad. And now as they relayed this same story to the church in Rome, imagine how proud they must have felt. That’s our dad! He carried Jesus’ cross! Since neither Matthew nor Luke mention these two sons, we can assume that their audiences (places other than Rome) would not have been familiar with them.

Cleopas

After his resurrection from the dead, Jesus appears to two individuals on the road to Emmaus — Cleopas and an anonymous figure. Why mention Cleopas and not the other? The story obviously does not require him to be named.

The most reasonable explanation is that Cleopas must be the source for this specific account. Again, none of the disciples were present. Luke himself was not present. But as Luke mentioned in his prologue, he spoke with different eyewitnesses before compiling his Gospel account (Luke 1:1-3). Cleopas was one such eyewitness.

Also worth noting is that Cleopas was probably Jesus’ uncle. Elsewhere, John reports, “but standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene” (John 19:25). While the spelling is different in John, Bauckham argues that “Clopas is a very rare Semitic form of the Greek name Cleopas, so rare that we can be certain this is the Clopas who, according to Hegesippus, was the brother of Jesus’ father Joseph.”[1]

Writing in the early fourth century, church historian Eusebius references Hegesippus’ quote on Clopas. He writes:

After the martyrdom of James and the conquest of Jerusalem which immediately followed, it is said that those of the apostles and disciples of the Lord that were still living came together from all directions with those that were related to the Lord according to the flesh (for the majority of them also were still alive) to take counsel as to who was worthy to succeed James. They all with one consent pronounced Symeon, the son of Clopas, of whom the Gospel also makes mention; to be worthy of the episcopal throne of that parish. He was a cousin, as they say, of the Saviour. For Hegesippus records that Clopas was a brother of Joseph.[2]

According to church tradition, Clopas’ son, Symeon, the cousin of Jesus and James, became the overseer of the church in Jerusalem after James’ martyrdom in AD 62. Thus, we can see why Clopas’ testimony might carry some significant weight in the early church. He was the uncle of Jesus, and his son was a prominent leader in the Jerusalem church.

Names and Eyewitnesses

A few other names also fit this same description (Jairus, Bartimaeus, and Zacchaeus to name a few). By looking at the general pattern in the Gospels, these obscure figures should have remained anonymous. Therefore, their names seem rather significant. I believe Bauckham is correct when he suggests “that many of these named characters were eyewitnesses who not only originated the traditions to which their names are attached but also continued to tell these stories as authoritative guarantors of their traditions.”[3]

Notes

[1] Richard Bauckham, Jesus, and the Eyewitnesses, 47.

[2] Eusebius, Hist. Eccl. 3.11.

[3] Richard Bauckham, Jesus, and the Eyewitnesses, 39.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

Cold-Case Christianity: A Homicide Detective Investigates the Claims of the Gospels by J. Warner Wallace (Book)

The New Testament: Too Embarrassing to Be False by Frank Turek (MP3) and (DVD)

Why We Know the New Testament Writers Told the Truth by Frank Turek (mp4 Download)

The Top Ten Reasons We Know the NT Writers Told the Truth mp3 by Frank Turek

Counter Culture Christian: Is the Bible True? by Frank Turek (Mp3), (Mp4), and (DVD)      

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Ryan Leasure holds a Master of Arts from Furman University and a Master of Divinity from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. Currently, he’s a Doctor of Ministry candidate at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He also serves as a pastor at Grace Bible Church in Moore, SC.

Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/avG9mjt

 

By David Pallmann

Many Christians believe that it is wrong to offer unbelievers evidence for the truth of Christianity.[1] They argue that the traditional method of apologetics dishonors Scripture by not giving it the respect it is due. The concern is that offering evidence for the truth of Scripture gives evidence more weight than Scripture. The argument might be framed this way:

  1. If some activity requires us to treat something as a higher authority than Scripture, as Christians, we should not do it.
  2. Giving evidence for the truth of Scripture requires us to treat evidence as a higher authority than Scripture.
  3. Therefore, as Christians, we should not give evidence for the truth of Scripture.

Michael Krueger expresses the basic sentiment when he says,

“If the method of argumentation communicates to the unbeliever that he should believe the Bible only because it has received the stamp of approval from science, archaeology, and historical criticism, those disciplines, not the Bible, will be his ultimate authority.”[2]

In this article, I hope to show that the traditional apologist can answer this type of argument in a two-fold fashion. Once we clearly understand what it means to say that Scripture is one’s highest authority, it will become clear that this belief is not in conflict with presenting evidence for the truth of Scripture. In short, traditional, evidence-based, apologetics is harmonious with the affirmation that Scripture is the Christian’s highest authority.

Two Types of Authority

It will be helpful to begin by distinguishing between two types of authority. The Polish philosopher Józef Maria Bocheński made an important distinction between deontic authority and epistemic authority.[3] A deontic authority is roughly an authority which is able to tell you how you should act. Examples would include your boss or a police officer. These are individuals who can, to some extent, tell you what to do.

An epistemic authority is quite different. Epistemic authorities can tell you what you should believe. Examples would include a scholar, a doctor, or some other sort of expert. These are knowledgeable individuals who can be appropriately called “authorities” in their respective fields.

The key distinction between a deontic authority and an epistemic authority lies in the domains over which they exert their authority. Deontic authorities tell you how to behave. Epistemic authorities tell you what to believe.

Applying the Distinction

Armed with an understanding of these two types of authority, let’s explicate what it means to say that Scripture is our highest authority. It seems quite evident that this typically refers to Scripture as a deontic authority. To say that Scripture is one’s highest authority is, in essence, to say that one ought to obey God rather than men (Acts 5:29). Scripture will dictate a Christian’s behavior even when Scripture conflicts with another authority (e.g the government).

Thus construed, it becomes evident that the original argument is guilty of equivocation. Premise 1 refers to deontic authority while premise 2 refers to epistemic authority. As such, under a deontic understanding of Scripture as one’s highest authority, the conclusion of the argument simply doesn’t follow.

Scripture as an Epistemic Authority

Although on a deontic conception of Scriptural authority, the argument is flawed, there is one complication. Scripture does not merely tell us how to act, but it also tells us what to believe. Thus, while it is true that Scripture is a deontic authority, it also appears to function as an epistemic authority. Should we regard Scripture as our highest epistemic authority as well?

To answer this question, we need a clearer understanding of the role that epistemic authorities play in the formation of justified beliefs. In the first place, we need to observe that beliefs which are held on the basis of epistemic authorities inherently have weaker justification than beliefs held on the basis of evidence. This is because, when information is gained via authority, there is a further link in the chain between the believer and the truth of the belief. When one believes a proposition on the basis of evidence, then his connection to the truth of the belief is much stronger. When one relies on an epistemic authority, they are trusting the authority to accurately relay his own beliefs which (hopefully!) are based on a body of evidence to which the believer does not have direct access. The indirectness of the belief allows more opportunities for mistakes to be made. So whenever a belief is held on the basis of an authority, it necessarily has a lower probability of being true than a belief based directly on evidence. The upshot here is that epistemic authorities are not valuable because of anything intrinsic to that authority. They are valuable because they are a means of connecting us with truth. Epistemic authorities are only useful insofar as they achieve that goal. As Richard Feldmen observes,

“Inferential rules aren’t good ones simply because experts use them. Rather, experts are good guides to good rules simply because they have the best insight into the matter.”[4]

Now, none of that is meant to disparage the importance and value of epistemic authorities. Clearly, we cannot become acquainted with all the relevant evidence for every possible belief. Epistemic authorities, therefore, provide us with a convenient way of gaining knowledge about something without examining it in detail. The cost of that convenience, however, is that one incurs a greater risk that their acquired belief is not true.

To minimize this risk, it is crucial that we have good reasons for regarding an authority as reliable. If there were no way for recognizing an authority as reliable then we would either have to blindly follow anything that claimed to be an authority, make an arbitrary selection about which authorities to believe, or else reject epistemic authorities altogether. As John DePoe notes,

“Authorities play a valuable epistemic role because they are avenues for justified beliefs and knowledge that are inaccessible to us without them, or they make the procurement of such epistemic good more convenient. … Importantly, however, for me to embrace [an] authority justifiably, I must have good reasons to trust the source as an authority in the domains where I regard it as an authority.”[5]

So it is not possible, in principle, to have a highest epistemic authority if this is meant to be understood as an authority being one’s primary source of knowledge. A subject must always choose to believe what an authority says. And to make an informed decision about which authorities to believe, one needs access to independent evidence.

Highest Epistemic Authority

As the above discussion makes clear, evidence has primacy when it comes to justification. There is no highest epistemic authority comparable to a highest deontic authority. It is by means of evidence that we adjudicate between various epistemic authorities and determine which one’s are to be trusted. This is not to deny that there can be a highest epistemic authority from among a range of authorities. For example, suppose I have a medical condition which two doctors wish to diagnose. One doctor has only examined my condition superficially while the other has examined me thoroughly. Both doctors are authorities, but the one who has examined me thoroughly is the higher authority, and, as such his diagnosis will be taken more seriously. In this situation, I could be said to have a highest epistemic authority. However, notice that the word “highest” is being used in a comparative and contextual sense. I regard one authority as highest from among other authorities with respect to a specific topic. In the same way, the Christian can make Scripture his highest authority from among other authorities (pastors, theologians, etc.) with respect to the nature, will, character, and revelation of God. Thus, there is a sense in which Scripture can be considered a highest epistemic authority when this is meant to be understood as an authority among others which is given the most epistemic weight.

But since evidence is required to adjudicate between competing authority claims, it retains an epistemic priority over any authority. Notice, however, that this entails that evidence is not itself an authority. Thus, under this conception of evidence and authority, the second premise of the original argument is false. It confuses justification with authority. While authorities can play a justificatory role, not all justification comes in the form of authorities. If it did, we would be without justification for trusting any purported authority as such.

A Final Consideration

It seems to me that Christians who use this sort of argument mean something rather different by “highest authority” than I specified above. They don’t mean that Scripture is merely their highest epistemic authority from among a range of authorities about some particular subject. They appear to mean that Scripture should actually be our primary source of knowledge. To make belief in Scripture conditional upon sufficient evidence does indeed admit that Scripture is not one’s primary source of knowledge.

But I don’t see why this should be a concern for the traditional apologist. Having faith in an authority on the basis of evidence does not compromise that authority’s status nor does it somehow make evidence a “higher authority” in any meaningful sense. It is simply to acknowledge that one needs justification for believing that an authority is authoritative. Perhaps some will find this objectionable. But what is the alternative? To believe on the basis of nothing? This is epistemic irresponsibility. Moreover, it seems impossible. For surely before one can believe the teachings of Scripture, one must become acquainted with them through either hearing or reading Scripture. This shows that Scripture cannot be one’s primary source of knowledge.

If the critic still wishes to maintain that the traditional apologist is making evidence a higher authority than Scripture, then we may simply respond that he has equated “highest authority” with “primary source of knowledge.” This is a definition of “authority” that the traditional apologist is entitled to reject. If the critic still wishes to retain this definition of the word, then it is evident, I think, that he is deliberately defining words in such a way that he can accuse those who dispute his conclusions of lowering the status of Scripture. In this case, he is deliberately muddying the waters. Under the critic’s definition, the traditional apologist need feel no discomfort for not making Scripture his “highest authority.” The critic is now using this term to get the traditional apologist to say something which the traditional apologist never believed.

Summary and Conclusion

In this article, I have briefly outlined an objection to traditional apologetics which states that the traditional method turns evidence into a higher authority than Scripture. We have seen that the traditional apologist may give a two-fold response. First, he may respond by stating that he takes Scripture to be his highest deontic authority, but not necessarily his highest epistemic authority. If the critic replies by pointing out that Scripture is also an epistemic authority, the traditional apologist may reply by saying that epistemic authorities are limited in scope to specific topics. Thus, while he may well regard Scripture as his highest epistemic authority with respect to truths about God, he need not regard it as his highest epistemic authority with respect to the belief that Scripture yields accurate information about God. Moreover, he may argue that evidence does not function as an epistemic authority but rather functions as a means of recognizing an authority as such. Obviously, if evidence is not a type of authority, then it cannot be a higher authority than Scripture.

I conclude, therefore, that once we have clarified what is meant by “the authority of Scripture,” arguments such as that offered in the introduction either equivocate, are insensitive to the nature of epistemic authorities, or else mistake all justification for being a type of authority. In each case, the argument fails to establish its conclusion. Hence, the traditional apologist may confidently present evidence for the truth of Scripture without thereby sacrificing the authority of Scripture.

Notes:

[1] In particular I have presuppositionalists in mind. However, similar arguments can be found among critics of apologetics more generally. Such arguments are, by no means, limited to presuppositionalists.

[2] Michael J. Krueger, “The Sufficiency of Scripture in Apologetics,” TMSJ 12/1 (Spring 2001) Pg. 69-87

[3] J. M. Bocheński, The Logic of Religion, New York: New York University Press, 1965, Pg. 164-167

[4] Richard Feldman, “Authoritarian Epistemology,” in Earl Conee and Richard Feldman, Evidentialism, New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2004, Pg. 127

[5] John M. DePoe, “A Classical Evidentialist Response to Covenantal Epistemology,” in Debating Christian Religious Epistemology, New York, NY: Bloomsbury, 2020, Pg. 167-168

Recommended resources related to the topic:

Cold-Case Christianity: A Homicide Detective Investigates the Claims of the Gospels by J. Warner Wallace (Book)

The New Testament: Too Embarrassing to Be False by Frank Turek (MP3) and (DVD)

Why We Know the New Testament Writers Told the Truth by Frank Turek (mp4 Download)

The Top Ten Reasons We Know the NT Writers Told the Truth mp3 by Frank Turek

Counter Culture Christian: Is the Bible True? by Frank Turek (Mp3), (Mp4), and (DVD)    

 

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David Pallmann is a student at Trinity College of the Bible and Theological Seminary. He is also a member of the Society of Evangelical Arminians and directs the YouTube Apologetics ministry Faith Because of Reason.

Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/XvdBeMB

 

By Erik Manning

Many of the early church fathers say that Mark’s Gospel is based on Peter’s preaching. If that’s the case, it’s understandable why an apostle like Matthew or someone like Luke would use Mark as a source. You can’t get much closer to the life of Jesus than through the eyes of Peter.

We’ve looked at what the early church fathers had to say about Mark before. However, skeptics like Bart Ehrman say that this whole idea that Mark based his Gospel on Peter’s preaching stems from Papias, and Papias doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

OK, so now what?

While I don’t think that argument works, what if I said there was a way to bypass this objection? Are there any internal clues in Mark’s Gospel that point to Peter being the source?

In this video, I look at six internal evidences that demonstrate that Peter is Mark’s main source.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

The New Testament: Too Embarrassing to Be False by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3, and Mp4) Why We Know the New Testament Writers Told the Truth by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3 and Mp4)
Erik Manning is a Reasonable Faith Chapter Director located in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. He’s a former freelance baseball writer and the co-owner of a vintage and handmade decor business with his wife, Dawn. He is passionate about the intersection of apologetics and evangelism.
 
Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/Skw0LBH

By Wintery Knight

So, everyone from left to right accepts the early creed in 1 Corinthians 15:3-7 being dated to 1-3 years after the death of Jesus, even atheists like Crossley, Ludemann, and Crossan. The thing is, some people are not sure that the appearances of Jesus to individuals, groups, and skeptics really were physical appearances. They say, “well, Paul’s appearance was non-physical, so the other ones must have been, too.”

Let’s take a look.

Here’s a paragraph from my friend Eric Chabot, from his blog Think Apologetics. He explains why Paul’s use of the word “resurrection” to describe what the other witnesses saw means bodily resurrection.

He writes:

If Paul did have a vision, then the term “vision” is vague and must be defined. As Licona points out, visions are either objective (i.e., something that is seen without the use of our natural senses) or subjective (i.e., a  product of our minds). The real problem is with the vision hypothesis is that it doesn’t explain Paul’s use of resurrection to explain what had happened to Jesus.  The two words are used for resurrection in the New Testament “anastasis” (rising up) and “egersis” (waking up), both imply a physical body. Furthermore, the use of the word “opethe” (the Greek word for appeared) shows the Gospel writers did believe that Jesus appeared physically. “There you will see (opethe) him” (Matt. 28:7); “The Lord has risen and has appeared (opethe) to Simon” (Luke 24:24). When they used “opethe” here, it means that He appeared physically to them.

So when Paul gives his list of appearances in 1 Cor. 15, the issues become whether the appearance to him is the same as it was to the disciples. There is no doubt the post-resurrection body of Jesus (after the ascension) had to be somewhat different than the body the disciples saw. Also, whenever the New Testament mentions the word body, in the context of referring to an individual human being, the Greek word “soma” always refers to a literal, physical body. Greek specialist Robert Gundry says “the consistent and exclusive use of soma for the physical body in anthropological contexts resists dematerialization of the resurrection, whether by idealism or by existentialism.” [9] Furthermore, in N.T. Wright’s  The Resurrection of the Son of God shows that the Greek word for the resurrection which is “anastasis” was used by ancient Jews, pagans, and Christians as bodily in nature.

Now, I think my view on this, and I’m not sure if Eric would correct me, is that Paul got an objective but the non-physical vision of Jesus. There was something there that everyone else could see and hear, in my view. But in my view, Paul’s “veridical” vision was post-ascension and so non-physical. Paul uses the word resurrection to describe what the other eyewitnesses saw (and he met them at least twice, according to Gal 1 and Gal 2), and that means physical resurrected body.

Eric Chabot writes this in another place:

Now, I said before in 1 Corinthians 15, Paul could have chosen to only use the word pneuma. He doesn’t. He does say “spiritual,” but he’s got an adjective there. He also says, soma, “body.” What did Paul mean?

Philippians Chapter 3. It’s a short chapter. There are 21 verses, but Paul says three things in one chapter that indicate he’s talking about a physical resurrection. In the opening verses he says, “I was a Hebrew of the Hebrews” and “as touching the law,” he says, “I was a Pharisee.” Now, it’s very well known that the Pharisee believed in a bodily resurrection. In fact, according to Acts 23, as Paul was being taken captive by the Romans to prevent his being killed, he shouted out to the group of people and said, “Why are you taking me? Because I believe in the resurrec­tion of the dead?” He meant a literal resurrection.

When the Pharisees heard that, they said there’s nothing wrong with this guy. But the Sadducees [who didn’t believe in the Resurrection] didn’t like it. So as a Pharisee, he’s agreeing with the Pharisees.

So, the first evidence is from Philippians 3. As a Pharisee, Paul believes in a physical resur­rection.

Secondly, in verse 11 he says, “That I may attain the resurrection of the dead.” Now, the normal Greek word for resurrection is anastasis, but in this passage, Philippians 3:11, he puts a prefix on there, ek anastasis. Ekanastasis, according to all Greek scholars that I know of, is translated in this passage: “The out resurrection from among the dead.” Paul said, “I want to attain the out resurrection.”

Now, to a Jew, “out resurrection” means “what goes down is what comes up.” You come out from death. And then just a few verses later, Philippians 3:20,21, he said, “From Heaven, we look for Jesus who will change our vile soma (body) to be like unto His glorious soma (or body),” when he should have said pneuma, according to this other view.

So he’s a Pharisee who believes in a physical resurrection. Ek anastasis—“resurrection from out among the dead ones.”

Thirdly, Paul says, “He Jesus will change my body to be like His body.”

So right there in Philippians 3 alone, I think the picture of Jesus being some wispy spirit that appeared to him on the road to Damascus doesn’t fit Paul’s own data.

Yes, that’s why Philippians is my favorite book. You can get so much useful theology out of it. Something about the resurrection in Phil 3, something about Jesus’ divinity in Phil 2, and loads of practical advice on stewardship, charity, fellowship, endurance and practical love for others throughout. Some of it takes a little digging, but that’s what commentaries are for, am I right? But I digress.

If you want to read something a little more challenging, I found a paper from the Evangelical Theological Society (ETS) from their journal, where it talks more about soma and anastasis. If you want a bit of a challenge, download the PDF and read it. It’s by Kirk R. MacGregor, and the title is “1 Corinthians 15:3B–6A, 7 And The Bodily Resurrection Of Jesus.”

Recommended resources related to the topic:

Cold Case Resurrection Set by J. Warner Wallace (books)

Jesus, You and the Essentials of Christianity – Episode 14 Video DOWNLOAD by Frank Turek (DVD)

The Footsteps of the Apostle Paul (mp4 Download), (DVD) by Dr. Frank Turek

Early Evidence for the Resurrection by Dr. Gary Habermas (DVD), (Mp3) and (Mp4)

By John A. Limanto

The first genealogy within the Gospel of Matthew is an important cornerstone of the Gospel. This genealogy—a relic of the pre-Jewish-Roman War—contains, at the very heart of it, a Jewish tapestry that may only be deciphered by a thoroughly Jewish mind. In interpreting the genealogy, we find that it is indeed the pinnacle of the Jewish message of the Gospel. Containing within it is the stupendous claim that Jesus of Nazareth—the carpenter and the Son of Mary—is in the line of King David and is worthy of the Throne of Israel. Lingering deep within this chapter is the Messianic priority that has been reserved for the Jews. As the words of St. Paul proclaim, “for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.”[1]

However, far from being considered as a scrupulously precise report, Matthew’s genealogy has been widely regarded as incomplete. The differences that it bears with its Lukan counterpart along with the omissions of the names of several kings are demonstrably palpable. At surface value, these details may indeed impugn Matthew as a reliable source. Furthermore, the supposed symmetrical structure of the genealogy that Matthew posited seems to contain asymmetrical number of persons. This issue is critical especially when it is put in relation to the traditional doctrine of Biblical inerrancy—which is the doctrine that requires for there to be no error within the Scripture. How can this be accomplished when even the first genealogy in Matthew contains such follies? Have Matthew really crossed the unpardonable line of errancy?

Within this essay, I would like to present a case in support of the inerrancy for the Gospel of Matthew in light of the supposed problems found within Matthew’s genealogy. I believe that when we look at the case fairly—examining the evidences to their roots—we will begin to see how the first genealogy is not just inerrant, but has effectively accomplished its designed purpose. I will begin by providing some context to the Gospel of Matthew before moving on to the structure of the genealogy, the alleged “problems” before finally ending in my reconciliation between Biblical inerrancy and the Matthean genealogy

Context Regarding the Gospel of Matthew and the Genealogy

The Gospel of Matthew was likely written around the late AD 60’s.[2] Although this has placed the Gospel at a later date in comparison with Mark, it is likely that the information in the gospel has been gathered from the Gospel of Mark itself.[3] However, as the Gospel of Mark itself does not contain the names in the genealogy, Matthew must have had garnered the names from both the Old Testament and the extrabiblical sources found in Temple of Jerusalem prior to its destruction in AD 70[4]Thus, Matthew bears witness to names of kings that are not found anywhere else in the surviving Jewish Literature. R.T France wisely remarks, “While most of the names between Zerubbabel and Joseph conform to familiar Jewish types of name, there is no reason to link any of the individuals listed with anyone who is known to us from other sources.”[5]

One of the interesting things about genealogy is its etymology. The word used in Matthew (translated in the NIV as: “genealogy”) is the Greek word γένεσις (“genesis”). This alludes to the creation of the world; the coming of Jesus was supposed to mark a new creation—a new beginning. Moreover, Genealogies are particularly important within the Jewish tradition. It is said that out of genealogies, disputes were settled regarding properties and extensive genealogies were scrupulously preserved as records of the family.[6] Thus, it is very unlikely for Matthew, as a Jew himself, to contrive the names of the descendants of Jesus. As Matthew himself was writing very early after the death of Jesus, any fraudulent contrivances will be easily verified (assuming that the Matthean Gospel is written before the fall of the Temple of Jerusalem in AD. 70)

Structure of the Genealogy

The genealogy is divided into three main sections as Matthew himself claimed:

 17 So all the generations from Abraham to David were fourteen generations, and from David to the deportation to Babylon fourteen generations, and from the deportation to Babylon to the Christ fourteen generations.[7]

What importance does this hold? Matthew here seems to be designing his genealogy in a way that is symmetrical and easy to memorize. Thus, Matthew asserted that the genealogy contains fourteen generations per section. However, any shrewd reader will be apt to point out that the number does not correctly correspond to each section. Grant. R. Osborne points out,

There are fourteen names in the first series if David is counted. The problem is that there are only thirteen generations (periods between names)… In the second series, there are fourteen names only if David is not counted, so there are fourteen full generations (periods between names). In the third series, there are fourteen names if you count Christ.[8]

Here, Osborne rightly points out the numeral discord in each section. Let us consider the names in each series:

Series 1 (from Abraham to David): Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Judah, Perez, Hezron, Ram, Aminadab, Nahshon, Salmon, Boaz, Obed, Jesse, David (14)

Series 2: (David to Jeconiah): David, Solomon, Rehoboam, Abijah, Asa, Jehosaphat, Jehoram, Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, Hezekieh, Manasseh, Amon, Josiah, Jeconiah (15)

Series 3 (Jeconiah to Jesus): Jeconiah, Shealtiel, Zerubbabel, Abihud, Eliakim, azor, Zadok, Akim, Elihud, Eleazar, Matthan, Jacob, Joseph, Jesus (14)

Osborne offers a creative escape as a way of interpreting this without asserting inaccuracy: “This is resolved by simply assuming that Matthew is counting the generation leading to Abraham.”[9] Thus, counting from Jesus, one can omit either Jeconiah or David from the second series—assuming the former to belong to the third series and the latter to belong to the first series. Our new series will thus be:

Series 1 (from Abraham to David): Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Judah, Perez, Hezron, Ram, Aminadab, Nahshon, Salmon, Boaz, Obed, Jesse, David (14)

Series 2: (David to Jeconiah): Solomon, Rehoboam, Abijah, Asa, Jehosaphat, Jehoram, Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, Hezekieh, Manasseh, Amon, Josiah, Jeconiah (14)

Series 3 (Jeconiah to Jesus): Jeconiah, Shealtiel, Zerubbabel, Abihud, Eliakim, azor, Zadok, Akim, Elihud, Eleazar, Matthan, Jacob, Joseph, Jesus (14)

This strategy would satisfyingly do justice to Matthew’s original claim that there are fourteen generations each, while retaining the structural format.

The question as to why Matthew has chosen this particular format has perplexed the Biblical Scholar world. It is unclear as to what the number fourteen is supposed to represent. Nonetheless, many suggestions have been given.[10] One of the main suggestions has been gematria. This is the suggestion that even Osborne himself called as “the most likely.”[11] Gematria is the Jewish practice of using letters and alphabets for numbers. Every name and vowel has their own numeral significance—the word David in Hebrew consists of the three consonants dwd. Here, “d” equals to four and “w” equals to six (counted in Hebraic consonant order). In sum, the three letters produce the number fourteen. Scholars such as R. T. France, on the other hand, prefer the simpler explanation that fourteen is merely twice seven.[12]

The Omission of the Kings

This is the crux of the problem. The seemingly contrived structural format might have already given it away, but the genealogy has omitted—for some reason or another—the names of five kings along the line: Ahaziah, Joash, Amaziah, Jehoahaz, and Jehoiakim. Ahaziah, Joash, and Amaziah are supposed to be in between the line of Jehoram to Uzziah, while the two brothers Jehoahaz and Jehoiakim are in between Josiah and Jeconiah.

Analysis of the Kings

Any robust analysis of the omission of the five kings must contain a discussion of each of these kings. A pattern that of unrighteousness can be noticed within each of the kings. Ahaziah was blatantly described as an evil king who “walked in the ways of the house of Ahab.” (2 Chronicles 22:3). He was later captured in Samaria and killed by the men of Jehu, the tenth king of the Northern Kingdom of Israel. His successor, Athaliah, was subsequently executed and succeeded by Joash (2 Chr. 23:12-15)—who was the biological son of Ahaziah. Joash, in contrast, was first described as a righteous king (2 Chr. 24:2), but soon fell away at the end of his life. He was said to have served the Asherim and the idols and was later assassinated by his own servants (2 Chr. 24:18, 25). Likewise, Amaziah was a righteous king from the outset, but turned away later after striking the Edomites (2. Chr. 25:14).

It is obviously tempting for one to sway away the problem by merely attributing the omissions to the vile and the treacheries of these kings. Indeed, this solution has been proposed by R. T France himself. A clear success of such an approach is ambiguous, however—especially when the topic at hand is in regards to Biblical inerrancy. Such motives may give the opponents of the Scripture the necessary ammunition to impugn the Gospel of Matthew based on what they would perceive as “embellishments.”

Jehoahaz and Jehoiakim enters the picture as the two of the few ungodly kings recorded in 2 Kings 23-31 and 2 Kings 24:20. The Old Testament remarked that these kings include: Jehoahaz, Jehoiakim, Jehoiachin/Jeconiah, and Zedekiah. What does it, then, even mean when Matthew says “Josiah [is] the father of Jeconiah and his brothers?” A possible explanation is provided by Wilkins who points out that in the LXX (the Septuagint from where Matthew may have derived his genealogy from), the Greek word loakim denotes both Jehoiakim and Jeconiah.[13] It is possible that Matthew really intended for the word to have a double entendre—referring to both Jehoiakim and Jeconiah. Such an explanation will come more naturally when we understand the word “brothers” to not only mean the other rulers of the time, but also of the whole brotherhood of the Israelites sent to the exile—thus the whole clause is referring to a much greater scope than its literal meaning. Although this may be a possible interpretation, I shall adopt the worst possible scenario in this essay—that Matthew has actually omitted five kings from his genealogy.

In overall, the omission of the kings is a tougher issue to deal with for the inerrantist in comparison to the miniscule problem of the symmetrical structure. This understanding of Divine Inspiration is ubiquitous through the Christian tradition—and to deny such a doctrine costs a great price. Before we can proceed, however, it is good to inquire on what the biblical doctrine of inerrancy means.

Inerrancy

A solid understanding of what Biblical Inerrancy means will be vital to our discussion at hand. The most common misconception is that Biblical Inerrancy means that whatever the Bible says is true. However, this seems highly confused and misleading. For if whatever the Bible says is true, then the illustrations within the book of Revelation, would too, be literally true. But surely, this is absurd. The illustration in the book of Revelation is obviously a figure of speech or some sort. Thus, with this at hand, we can understand that defining inerrancy in its barest, narrowest sense will be counter-productive for any sincere truth-seeker. MacGregor avers:

“This classic doctrine of inerrancy stipulates that for each periscope within every document of the scriptural canon, when we first take into consideration that periscope’s original literary genre and the rules for what does and does not constitute an error in that genre, the periscope contains no errors.”[14]

The doctrine of Inerrancy does not concern what the Bible say on surface, but rather what the Bible teaches in its depth. We must determine the certain genre, literary tools, and context within a certain passage and determine whether it is correct in those senses.

Incompleteness and Inaccuracy

The best strategy for Christians, it seems, is to admit that there is incompleteness within the genealogy, but not inaccuracy. Herein, the difference is apparent. The Bible, for example, does not teach astrophysics or medicinal science. Does this mean the Bible is unqualified? By no means! Omissions of such details only signify an incompleteness of the Bible in discussing those topics.

However, here, we can go a step even further and ask ourselves, “is it appropriate for the Bible to omit such details?” Obviously, with regards to subjects such as astrophysics or medicinal science, one will adamantly agree that it is in all of a Bible’s propriety to leave out details that are not conducive to what the Bible focuses—the message of Salvation and knowledge of the One true God.

From here, we must likewise ask, “is it appropriate for the Gospel of Matthew to omit certain names within the genealogy?” If Matthew here meant to be precise and complete in his genealogy, doubtless that an incomplete genealogy would be Matthew’s errancy. However, does Matthew really intend for his genealogy to be perceived in such a way? Modern scholars think not.

The Purpose of the Genealogy

Matthew’s personal obsession in scrupulously arranging a symmetry is to be baffled about. Such an obsession, fortunately, helps to reveal to us Matthew’s original intent for the genealogy—an easy, memorisable, family data to help act as “signposts” for his Jewish audiences to identify Jesus within the line of the family of David. This identification of Jesus resonates with the unanimous view of New Testament scholars. Thus R. T. France says,

“But its [genealogy] main aim is clear enough: to locate Jesus within the story of God’s people as its intended climax, and to do it with a special focus on the Davidic monarchy as the proper context for a theological understanding of the role of the person whom Matthew, more than the other gospel writers, will delight to refer to not only as “Messiah” but also more specifically as “Son of David.”[15]

For such a purpose, the omission of the four kings will indeed be a beneficial tool in catalysing a compact genealogy for the purpose of easy memorization. In such a case, only the key people will be necessary within the genealogy with the purpose of acting as “signposts” pointing to the right direction. In fact, Craig S. Keener pointed out, “Matthew opens his Gospel by showing both Jesus’ historic inseparability from the history of Israel… The opening verse of the Gospel introduces two ancestors who become pivotal characters in the genealogy: Jesus is the son of Abraham (the ideal Jew) and the son of David (the Messiah).”[16] Here, Keener has even gone on to reduce the pillars of the genealogy to merely two characters: Abraham and David.

Keener goes on to argue that the main purpose of Matthew’s genealogy is not at all to show the genetic ancestry, but the emphasis has always been on His spiritual ancestry.[17] Ergo, he asserts, “Matthew thus establishes rhetorical community with his audience in his proem; proems typically appealed to audience sympathy.”[18] Keener’s view that such a genealogy is intended to build an emotional relation to the audience echoes well with Matthew’s colloquial and symmetrical format. Matthew here is not writing formally, but as a fellow Jew in his own relation to his brethren.

This theme of Jewish relation is indeed the majority view of Bible commentators with regards to Matthew’s purpose through the genealogy. Often times, this has been marked by the interpretation that Matthew has a theological focus more than one that is historical. Again, the theme is brought up that Matthew is not acting just as a historian in his writing, but also as a theologian. Wilkins’ statement is typical: “Matthew’s opening verse gives an important clue to his overall purpose and perspective. It had special meaning for those with a Jewish background, attempting both to awaken the faith of Jews and to strengthen the faith of Jewish Christians, insofar as Jesus is the “Messiah,” the “son of David,” the heir to the promises of Israel’s throne through King David.”[19] Some commentators have even gone so loose and say that for Matthew, this theological focus trumps over his historical focus. Thomas G. Long comments,

“It seems here that Matthew is more interested in making a theological point than in being genealogically precise. Almost every commentator has noted that this pattern of sets of uniformly numbered generation is an artificial creation, for each of these three time periods cover too many years to be spanned by only fourteen generations.”[20]

Comparison to Lukan Genealogy

A much broader issue appears once we compare the Matthean genealogy to its Lukan counterpart as expounded within Luke 3:23-38. Wilkins has formulated a list of five main differences that rifts apart the two genealogies.[21] 1) Matthew gives a descending genealogy, beginning with Abraham while Luke gives an ascending genealogy, starting with Jesus and tracing it backward to Adam. The Matthean genealogy here is more faithful to the Jewish tradition of genealogies while the Lukan genealogy adhere to genealogies more commonly found in Greco-Roman tradition. 2) Mathew places special emphasis on the covenants made with Israel, by tracing Jesus’ lineage to David and Abraham. Meanwhile, Luke places special emphasis on Jesus’ relation to all of humanity and to God by tracing his lineage to Adam and God himself. 3) The names of several persons after the Babylonian deportation differs between the two genealogies. Matthew follows the line through Jeconiah, Shealtiel, and Zerubbabel. Luke follows the line through Neri, Shealtiel, and Zerubbabel. 4) Matthew omits several names that are found in the genealogy of Luke. 5) Matthew puts emphasis on Jesus’ kingly lineage. David is not simply the son of Jesse—as Luke titles him—but that he is “King David”. Matthew traces Jesus’ genealogy through David’s son Solomon, while Luke traces the line through David’s son Nathan, who never reigned as king.

The issue of our interest regarding Matthean genealogy and Biblical inerrancy concerns third, fourth, and fifth point. The difference in the genealogy between Matthew and Luke itself is enough to crumble down the Biblical inerrancy. In the next passage, I shall attempt to reconcile the two together and provide a possible solution.

Reconciliation with Biblical Inerrancy

Henceforth, I will be arguing my last point—that by the context and the Biblical data that we have, we can see how the Matthean genealogy may be vindicated from accuses of errancy with regards to the omission of the four kings, differences with the Lukan genealogy and further, with regards to its symmetrical structure.

With regards to its symmetrical structure, we have observed that it is possible for us to view the genealogy in a way that will circumvent the issue of the asymmetrical number of people in each set. Although the first and third set contains fourteen people on its own, while the second contains fifteen, an easy way out would be to assume that Matthew was simply counting the generations leading to Abraham. Such a trick allows us to bypass the problem and retain the symmetrical structure of the genealogy that Matthew postulated.

With regards to the omission of the five kings, we have seen previously how this is consistent with the context of the Matthean genealogy—written colloquially in a structure that is memorisable to form an emotional relation with Jews who are reading the gospel. By the scrupulosity of Matthew towards its structural rigidity (despite the messiness that still ensues nevertheless) we can understand that Matthew never intended for his genealogy to be written as a complete, formal genealogy. Rather, his symmetrical focus and the unnecessity for the completion of the genealogy points to how Matthew deliberately omitted those kings in favour of the structural format.

Within such genre and context—there is no necessity for the genealogy to be precise. It ought to be precise only with regards to its theological and literary purposes—which it did. Therefore, form here we can infer that Matthew has indeed fulfilled its context, literary genres, and purposes; this is precisely what is needed to sufficiently fulfil the criteria for inerrancy. David L Turner is correct in saying, “Matthew has omitted three names … and other omissions can also be noted. But it is not that Matthew has erred, since he did not intend to work exhaustively and precisely.”[22]

Moreover, considering the insignificance of these five kings as signposts in the line of David, it would do little if those kings were omitted. To accomplish his purpose in the context of providing an informal genealogy for the lay people, the structural format has to be prioritized. In this regard, Matthew’s decision may even be praiseworthy as it shows his shrewdness as an author. It is further worthwhile to mention Keener’s remark that within the genre of ancient genealogies, it is not uncommon for such omissions to happen.[23] If this is indeed true, it would imply that not only such omissions permissible, but also in line with the mainstream tradition of ancient genealogies.

More, however, needs to be added with regards to the Lukan genealogy. There have been several possible suggestions posed as to how we can construe the differences in the Lukan and the Matthean genealogy. Luther has suggested that Matthew offered the Joseph’s ancestry while Luke offered Mary’s. This position, however, runs aground when we see the explicit wording in Luke 3:23 (cf. Luke 1:27). R. T France further excoriate this position by pointing out that ancient Jewish genealogies were not traced through the mother.[24] Another view that sprung up would be that either Matthew or Luke has simply invented names. But again, such a case is very unlikely. Genealogies are simply too important for any Jew to treat them so cavalierly.[25] Thus, Contemporary scholars have now opted for a third position that Matthew emphasized the royal lineage of Jesus by tracing the “throne-succession of the actual, and, after the exile, the putative kings of Judah.[26] Meanwhile, Luke may have emphasized the actual biological lineage of Jesus. France confesses that such a view may be speculative, but it is indeed possible that biological and dynastic line run on separate lines while converging on multiple occasions.[27]

Conclusion

I hope to have established a firm case for a reconciliation between the Matthean genealogy and Biblical inerrancy. As we have thus far seen, the obstacles into reconciling the two of them have fallen short. Though it is not at all unreasonable to doubt Matthew’s inerrancy—especially in light of its differences with the Lukan genealogy—, by the strength of the evidences, it seems more plausible for us to adhere to its inerrancy. Such a view is far more supported by our present understanding of Jewish tradition—their scrupulous preservation and recording of genealogies. With regards to the omission of the five kings and the asymmetrical number of people in the genealogy, I hope to have shown that there can be no reasonable doubt that Matthew has intended for the omission and this, too, fulfils the context, genre and purpose of the genealogy. The purported “asymmetry,” on the other hand, may be resolved simply with a quick re-evaluation as provided above.

Notes

[1] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. (2016). (Ro 1:16). Wheaton: Standard Bible Society.

[2] The date of the authorship of Matthew has been clouded with much obscurities. The general scholars have been divided into two camps: the pre-70 AD camp and the Infra-70 AD camp. The position posed within this essay is the traditional position of the early Church Fathers. See Iraneus’, Against Heresies, 3.1.1. For a complete discourse regarding the debate of Matthew’s date of authorship, see R.T France, The Gospel of Matthew, 18-19; Michael J. Wilkins, Matthew, 24.

[3] K Lachmann, 1835; C. H. Weisse and C. G. Wilke, 1838; H.j. Holtzmann, 1863; B. Weiss, 1886; B. H. Streeter, 1924. This impressive list of 19th century scholars who have persuasively argued for the primacy of the Gospel of Mark is gathered in Edwards, James. R. 2002. The Gospel According to Mark. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.

[4] Genesis Rabbah 98:8; j. Taʿanit 4:2; see Anthony J. Saldarini, Pharisees, Scribes and Sadducees in Palestinian Society: A Sociological Approach (Wilmington, Del.: Michael Glazier, 1988), 204–6.

[5] The genealogy in 1 Chr. 3 ends in Zerubbabel. See R.T. France, The Gospel of Matthew, 109

[6] Wilkins, Michael J. 2004. Matthew. The NIV Application Commentary. Grand Rapids: Zondervan. 57

[7] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. (2016). (Mt 1:17). Wheaton: Standard Bible Society.

[8] Osborne, Grant. R. 2010. Matthew. Michigan: Grand Rapids: Zondervan. 60.

[9] Ibid.

[10] See Davies and Allison, Matthew. They discuss eight views of this arrangement.

[11] Osborne, Grant. R. 2010. Matthew. Michigan: Grand Rapids: Zondervan. 59.

[12] France, R.T. 2007. Gospel According to Matthew. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co. 103.

[13] Wilkins, Michael J. 2004. Matthew. The NIV Application Commentary. Grand Rapids: Zondervan. 62.

[14] See Kirk MacGregor’s Luis de Molina, Life and Theology of the Founder of Middle Knowledge, 177. In the book, MacGregor offers a compelling model for Biblical inerrancy that ought to draw our attention.

[15] France, R.T. 2007. Gospel According to Matthew. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co. 103.

[16] Keener, Craig S. 1999. A Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co. 73

[17] Ibid. 77

[18] Ibid.

[19] Wilkins, Michael J. 2004. Matthew. The NIV Application Commentary. Grand Rapids: Zondervan. 65.

[20] Long, Thomas G. 1997. Matthew. Westminster John Knox Press. 10

[21] Wilkins, Michael J. 2004. Matthew. The NIV Application Commentary. Grand Rapids: Zondervan. 57-58.

[22] Turner, David L. 1994. Matthew. Baker Academic. 27.

[23] “But skipping some generations was common enough in ancient genealogies, and Matthew would have seen no harm in approximating generations.” Keener, Craig S. 1999. A Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co. 75

[24] France, R.T. 2007. Gospel According to Matthew. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co. 104

[25] Ibid.

[26] Ibid.

[27] Ibid.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

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John A. Limanto is a fellow leader of Philosophy group in Pelita Harapan School and an aspiring Christian apologist in his local community. After living for 7 years in Borneo, he now resides with his family in Jakarta, Indonesia where he is pursuing his research on Molinism and free will.

Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/NhIaPsr