In this installment of Vos Group, we turn to p. 336 of Vos’ book Biblical Theology: Old and New Testaments, focusing on the temptations of Jesus Christ. This discussion ventures into the heart of Jesus’ wilderness temptations, offering a rich, theological analysis that challenges and enlightens. We consider the strategic use of Old Testament quotations by Jesus during his confrontation with Satan, underscoring the deep, theological significance of these moments.

This episode not only unpacks the unique messianic nature of Jesus’s temptations but also firmly opposes a moralizing interpretation, instead highlighting the redemptive work accomplished through Christ’s victory over sin. Through a careful examination of Jesus as the obedient Son and true Israel, this episode reveals the layers of meaning in these biblical narratives, connecting them to broader themes of redemption, covenant theology, and the Christian life. As we understand Jesus’ role as the mediator who binds and spoils the strong man, this episode encourages believers to find their identity in Christ, resting in his victorious work on our behalf.

Chapters

• 00:07 Introduction
• 04:44 Jesus’ Temptation as a Prime Example of His Earthly Ministry
• 08:43 The Wilderness Temptation
• 17:10 The Temple Temptation
• 23:05 The Mountain Temptation
• 28:44 The Emphases of Matthew and Luke
• 38:38 Overcoming in Jesus and Entering Paradise
• 45:01 Looking Ahead
• 48:11 Conclusion

Participants: Camden Bucey, Lane G. Tipton

Christmas wonderfully brings into focus the first advent of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ into the world. Long ago, in the little town of Bethlehem of Judea, the eternal Son of God, conceived by the Holy Spirit, was born of the virgin Mary. He who is the radiance of the glory of God was wrapped in swaddling cloths. He who upholds the universe by the word of his power was lying in a manger. Wonder of wonders, in the incarnation, the Son of God truly took to his divine person a real human nature, so that, as the God-man, he might save his people from their sins (Matt. 1:21).

While his coming was like a warm winter fire for a world frozen under the icy reign of sin, it nonetheless marked for him his entrance into his estate of humiliation (cf. Westminster Larger Catechism Q&A 46). As the surety of God’s covenant of grace, he freely subjected himself in his assumed human nature to the curse and demand of the law in the stead of his people to fulfill all passive and active obedience. He came for this very reason. He “did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped,” explains the apostle Paul, “but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Phil. 2:6–8). From the moment of his conception on, his life would violently cascade in ever-deepening humility until he finally crashed against the jagged rocks of crucifixion, death, and burial.

For such was the end toward which we were falling headlong in our sin. But he came to raise the sons of earth. In his poem “Nativity,” Geerhardus Vos captures this gospel truth of Christ’s suffering,

His smallness laden with our sin;
Born that his birth-cries might begin
Full thirty years of tragedy,
Each step a step toward Calvary.¹

In his estate of humiliation, the true nature of Jesus’ person and work was hidden by his Father, Lord of heaven and earth, from the wise and understanding (Matt. 11:25). It was veiled behind weakness, poverty, and outward insignificance, which kept those bent on possessing the kingdoms of the world and their glory (4:8) who trusted in their own righteousness before God and loved the praise of men from coming to any true knowledge of him. “Seeing they do not see” (13:13). Yet, Jesus’ true identity was revealed by his Father to little children who thereby came to know both him and his Father unto eternal life (11:25; 13:10; 16:17). Humbling oneself like a child is a prerequisite not only to know and enjoy the truth of Christmas, the humble birth of heaven’s high king, but also, relatedly, to enter his kingdom of heaven (18:3, 4). Who can be proud when the heavens are humble?

In other words, special revelation is necessary not only for finding the entrance into the kingdom of heaven but also perceiving rightly the crown prince of heaven in his humble estate from Christmas to Good Friday and beyond, until he comes again in the full splendor of his glory. The apostle Matthew underlines this necessity of special revelation by telling the marvelous story of Jesus’ birth through the eyes of Joseph. Not being told beforehand but only after the fact, Joseph would have to humble himself like a little child to receive God’s special revelation regarding the child in Mary’s womb. Only in so doing could he rightly perceive that the child in Mary’s womb was not to her shame but to her honor, even to the highest honor ever bestowed upon any woman.

So, the story begins, “When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit” (1:18). That this child was “from the Holy Spirit” was not immediately evident to Joseph. So, “being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, [he] resolved to divorce her quietly” (1:19; cf. Deut. 22:23–24; Matt. 5:31–32). “At once we see that Mary’s great honor was likely to be regarded as her shame,” notes Herman Ridderbos.² He then draws this insight,

Christ’s birth already contains a hint of the offense of the Cross. The miracle that stood behind it was hidden and unprovable, and it could be recognized only by the light of special revelation. To one who was not thus enlightened, the Son of God seemed an illegitimate child. Mary had to suffer the consequences of this. The sword that would pierce her soul (Luke 2:35) began to wound her deeply already before Jesus’ birth.³

What Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 1:18 is applicable by extension to the miracle of Christmas: “For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” Not only the obscurity of his birth but also the appearance of illegitimacy, indeed, contains a hint of the offense of the cross. As Adam needed special revelation to know that the fruit of a particular tree that appeared good for food would bring about his certain death (Gen. 2:17), so too, positively, in redemption, special revelation is needed to know that the Savior who appeared powerless to save could bring about a certain new life.

We see this, for example, in the answer to the following question: What brought about the change of Joseph’s determination to divorce Mary and instead to adopt this child as his own with all the inheritance rights of a son of David? It came about by means of a special revelation from God gifted to Joseph in the wrapping of a dream by an angel of the Lord. Matthew writes, “But as [Joseph] considered these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins’” (1:20–21). Ridderbos comments, “The angel’s revelation to Joseph also had deeper consequences for him, however. To his surprise once God had told him the truth, the shame that Mary had had in his eyes was turned into the highest honor.”⁴

Joseph, humbling himself like a little child in full obedience to this special revelation from God, rightly perceived and so received the miraculous child in Mary’s virgin womb as indeed the promised Son of David, who would save him, Mary, and all God’s people from their sins and restore them to true knowledge, righteousness, and holiness in fellowship with God in his kingdom forever (28:19). The Christmas miracle is not only unto the cross but beyond it through resurrection into the new creation for all who believe.⁵

Matthew specifically describes Joseph as a “just” man in terms of his willingness to do what God’s word required of him from the heart, at first to divorce his betrothed in fear, but then to receive the child in her womb as his very own (1:19). This being just is the kind of righteousness that Jesus came to fulfill, a righteousness that exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, who for the sake of their traditions made void the word of God (5:20; 15:6). In this we see the connection between Jesus’ requirements of righteousness (5:20), doing the will of his Father (7:21), and humbling oneself like a child (18:3–4) to enter the kingdom of heaven. These, while required, are ultimately gracious gifts from Christ himself, the king of heaven and earth.⁶

Christ can only be received and rested in by faith. The Belgic Confession states, “We believe that for us to acquire the true knowledge of this great mystery the Holy Spirit kindles in our hearts a true faith that embraces Jesus Christ, with all his merits, and makes him its own, and no longer looks for anything apart from him” (Article 22). Joseph believed God’s special revelation concerning the child in Mary’s womb and so received and rested in him as his own. Now risen from the dead and seated at the right hand of the Father in heaven, Christ as God’s special revelation must be believed so that those who humble themselves like little children might also receive and rest in him as their own. Christmas is for little children who in the kingdoms of earth may be disregarded but in the kingdom of heaven are, indeed, the greatest.

“Yes, it is well that we should celebrate the Christmas season,” says J. Gresham Machen, “and may God ever give us a childlike heart that we may celebrate it aright.”⁷

Notes

1. Geerhardus Vos, Western Rhymes (Santa Ana, CA: Geerhardus Vos, 1933), 1.
2. Herman Ridderbos, Matthew, Bible Student’s Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1987), 26.
3. Ridderbos, Matthew, 26, emphasis mine.
4. Ridderbos, Matthew, 27.
5. Matthew links Jesus’ genesis with Genesis.
6. The debate over whether righteousness in Matthew is a requirement or a gift or both is resolved by Vos who observes that the basis for the crowning structure of Paul’s doctrine of righteousness—as something wrought out in Christ and transferred to us by imputation—was laid by Jesus. See Geerhardus Vos, Grace and Glory: Sermons Preached in the Chapel of Princeton Theological Seminary (Grand Rapids, MI: The Reformed Press, 1922), 43.
7. J. Gresham Machen, God Transcendent (Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth, 2002), 203.

In this installment of Vos Group, Lane Tipton and Camden Bucey discuss pp. 322–329 of Geerhardus Vos’ book, Biblical Theology: Old and New Testaments. In this section, Vos discusses John’s testimony of Jesus after his baptism.

The testimony of John the Baptist as depicted in the Gospel of John emphasizes Jesus’ unique divine nature and eternal preexistence, distinguishing him from all others in redemptive history. This underlines John’s role as the one preparing the way for Jesus, who fulfills Old Testament prophecies as the sacrificial Lamb of God. It also highlights the immutable deity of Christ, who, despite his incarnation, remains unchanged in his divine person and essence. The narrative showcases Jesus’ baptism as an act of vicarious repentance and affirms his authority to bestow the Spirit, underscoring the theological depth of his identity and mission as witnessed by John the Baptist.

Chapters

• 00:07 Introduction
• 07:00 The Pre-Existence of Christ Revealed at His Baptism
• 12:10 Christ before and after John
• 15:36 John 1:15, 30
• 26:12 Malachi 3 and the Trinity
• 30:43 The Ecumenical Tradition and Scripture
• 33:42 Divine Relationality
• 39:32 The Immutability of the Person of the Son
• 44:16 The Religious Significance of Christ’s Divinity
• 49:34 Conclusion

Participants: Camden Bucey, Lane G. Tipton

We are pleased to welcome Dr. Bruce Baugus to our program to discuss his book, The Roots of Reformed Moral Theology, published by Reformation Heritage Books. In this comprehensive work, Dr. Baugus delves into the foundational elements that have shaped moral theology within the Reformed tradition. He provides both historical and theological contexts, covering a range of topics including the Old Testament’s influence on Reformed moral thought, the significance of the Ten Commandments, the Reformation’s impact on moral theology, and its evolution in the modern era. Additionally, Dr. Baugus explores the practical applications of Reformed moral theology for contemporary Christian living.

This conversation serves as a continuation of a dialogue that began during our online Symposium on Reformed Moral Theology, held in August 2023. In the symposium’s concluding session, Dr. Baugus and Dr. David VanDrunen each presented their perspectives on the role of law in the Gospels, with a particular focus on the Sermon on the Mount as recorded in the Book of Matthew. The session also featured an interactive discussion between the two scholars and T. David Gordon.

Dr. Bruce P. Baugus is Professor of Systematic Theology & Apologetics at Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary in Grand Rapids, Michigan. He earned a PhD in Philosophical Theology from Calvin Theological Seminary (2009) and served on the faculty of Reformed Theological Seminary in Jackson, Mississippi, for fourteen years (2008–2022) prior to joining Puritan Reformed. He is also the editor of China’s Reforming Churches (RHB, 2014) and has contributed numerous chapters, articles, and papers.

Dr. David VanDrunen is Robert B. Strimple Professor of Systematic Theology and Christian Ethics at Westminster Seminary California.

Chapters

• 00:00:07 Introduction
• 00:07:33 Moral Theology and Christian Ethics
• 00:12:49 Understanding the Roots of Moral Theology
• 00:15:10 Historical Developments in Reformed Moral Theology
• 00:18:38 A Distinctly Reformed Moral Theology
• 00:21:47 Moral Theology and Aquinas
• 00:23:51 The Law of Moses in the Reformed Tradition
• 00:33:53 Jesus and the Law
• 00:37:21 Jesus Showing the Climactic Character of His Coming
• 00:44:25 An Enduring Moral Law
• 00:51:51 The Redemptive-Historical Significance of Jesus’ Coming
• 00:54:46 The Law and the New Covenant People
• 01:03:01 The Natural Order and the New Creation
• 01:07:44 Conclusion

Participants: Bruce Baugus, Camden Bucey, David VanDrunen

Today, we turn to pages 318–322 of Vos’ Biblical Theology: Old and New Testaments to explore the baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist. Our goal is to offer a nuanced understanding by identifying both the similarities and differences between John’s baptism of Jesus and the baptisms John performed upon the people.

Vos aims to steer clear of two misconceptions: the first being that Jesus’ baptism and the people’s baptisms were entirely distinct events, and the second that they were essentially the same.

The baptism of Jesus holds dual significance. Firstly, it serves as a public and objective revelation of the Holy Spirit’s glory, manifested as the Spirit descended from heaven onto Jesus. Secondly, it has a sacramental meaning for Jesus himself, as he received something from the Spirit that furthered his earthly mission, which was a journey of suffering leading to glory.

In addition, we’ll examine the connection between Jesus’s baptism and his role as the Messiah, offering insights into both pneumatology—the study of the Holy Spirit—and eschatology—the study of end times.

Chapters

• 00:07 Introduction
• 00:37 Discussing the Recent Course on Aquinas’ Trinitarian Theology
• 09:49 John’s Baptism of Jesus
• 23:22 The Redemptive-Historical Roles of Jesus and John
• 27:05 Jesus Identifies with His People
• 29:55 The Objective Office of Messiah
• 41:42 The Descent of the Spirit upon Jesus
• 46:54 The Sacramental Significance of Jesus Baptism
• 50:31 The Beginning of the New Creation
• 58:49 Conclusion

Participants: Camden Bucey, Lane G. Tipton

We welcome Chris Castaldo to the program to explore the Beatitudes. In his book, The Upside-Down Kingdom, Castaldo offers a fresh perspective on these familiar teachings of Jesus, showing how they reveal God’s heart for the poor, the meek, and the persecuted. He also provides practical guidance for how we can live out these values in our daily lives, both as individuals and as a community of believers. The book is recommended for anyone seeking to deepen their understanding of the gospel and its implications for our lives today.

Castaldo argues that the Beatitudes challenge our cultural assumptions about power, success, and happiness, and call us to embrace a different way of living that is grounded in humility, compassion, and justice. Castaldo also draws on his own experiences as a pastor and theologian to provide practical guidance for how we can live out these values in our daily lives. Overall, The Upside Down Kingdom offers a fresh perspective on the Beatitudes that is both challenging and inspiring.

Chris Castaldo (PhD, London School of Theology) is the lead pastor at New Covenant Church in Naperville, Illinois. Follow him on Twitter at @chriscastaldo.

Books by Chris Castaldo

• The Upside Down Kingdom: Wisdom for Life from the Beatitudes
• Talking with Catholics about the Gospel: A Guide for Evangelicals
• The Unfinished Reformation: What Unites and Divides Catholics and Protestants After 500 Years
• Journeys of Faith: Evangelicalism, Eastern Orthodoxy, Catholicism and Anglicanism
• Holy Ground: Walking with Jesus as a Former Catholic
• Justified in Christ: The Doctrines of Peter Martyr Vermigli and John Henry Newman and Their Ecumenical Implications

Links

• Rebekah Eklund, The Beatitudes through the Ages
• The Center for Pastor Theologians

Chapters

• 00:07 Introduction
• 03:12 Introducing The Upside-Down Kingdom
• 04:11 Catholicism and Evangelicalism
• 08:03 Studying the Reformation in Italy
• 11:11 Chris’ Family History and the Beatitudes
• 12:49 Worldly vs. Biblical Measures of Success
• 17:58 The Beginnings of The Upside-Down Kingdom
• 19:14 Inaugurated Eschatology and the Kingdom
• 23:23 Addressing Cultural Assumptions
• 30:38 Meekness
• 36:32 Societal and Political Implications of Jesus’ Teaching
• 39:51 Liberal Christian Ethics
• 42:26 The Beatitudes and Catholicism
• 48:57 Hopes and Aspirations for Readers of the Book
• 52:40 Upcoming Projects
• 54:34 Integrating Our Studies
• 56:10 Lessons from Italian Christians
• 58:35 Conclusion

Participants: Camden Bucey, Chris Castaldo

Ryan Noha and Camden Bucey discuss two new courses from Reformed Academy as well as the new online community and several upcoming events. Camden, Jim Cassidy, and Lane Tipton will be attending a meetup in Dallas on August 1, 2023 while Camden and Carlton Wynne will be present for a meetup in Atlanta on August 11. Reformed Forum will also be hosting an online symposium on Reformed Moral Theology on August 24, 2023. Information is available on our calendar.

After discussing all these matters, we include Jim Cassidy’s first lecture from a new course on Barth as well as a recording of a live Q&A session with Jim on the lecture.

Links

• The Gospel of John: A Study in the Truth (Chapters 1–10)
• Van Til and Barth: A Confessionally Reformed Critique

Chapters

• 00:00:07 Introduction
• 00:03:02 Course on 1 Peter with Kevin Chiarot
• 00:06:14 John 1–10: A Study in the Truth
• 00:10:02 Van Til and Barth: A Confessionally Reformed Critique
• 00:16:25 Our Online Community
• 00:18:02 Local Meetups in Dallas and Atlanta
• 00:21:37 Symposium on Reformed Moral Theology
• 00:31:12 Online Study Groups
• 00:35:09 Jim Cassidy, Karl Barth Lecture 1
• 01:19:15 Live Q&A with Jim Cassidy
• 02:05:02 Conclusion

Participants: Camden Bucey, Jim Cassidy, Ryan Noha

We turn to pp. 311–314 of Geerhardus Vos’s book, Biblical Theology: Old and New Testaments to discuss revelation connected with John the Baptist. In this section, we are reminded of the importance of being methodologically self-conscious in our biblical theology. Vos provides valuable insights into John the Baptist’s mission and his place in the unfolding of God’s plan of salvation.

Through an exposition of Matthew 11:2-15, we explore Jesus’ correction of mistaken views and his explanation of John’s significance as “more than a prophet” as well as Vos’ biblical theology, emphasizing the redemptive event as preceding the interpretive word. Whether you’re a biblical scholar or simply interested in the history of special revelation, this episode is sure to provide you with valuable insights and a deeper understanding of John the Baptist’s role in the unfolding of God’s plan of salvation.

Chapters

• 00:00:07 Introduction
• 00:01:32 Join Our New Online Community
• 00:07:37 New Course Available on Van Til and Barth
• 00:16:10 Vos, John the Baptist, and Methodological Considerations
• 00:23:32 Baldensperger and the History of Religions School
• 00:29:04 John the Baptist in Luke 1
• 00:36:54 Baldensperger’s View of Luke 1–3
• 00:44:45 The Christian Philosophy of History
• 00:50:14 John the Baptist in Matthew 11:2–15
• 00:57:46 John and Impending Judgment
• 01:01:45 John Living under the Old Covenant
• 01:05:46 Rejoicing in Suffering for Christ
• 01:18:16 Conclusion

Participants: Camden Bucey, Lane G. Tipton

This episode looks at the testing of Jesus that comes on the heels of his baptism. At his baptism, the Father declares “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” Satan comes to test that claim. But God has his own purposes as Jesus is led into the wilderness to demonstrate that he is indeed who the father declared him to be.

Participants: Joel Fick, Mark A. Winder

Benjamin L. Gladd speaks about From the Manger to the Throne: A Theology of Luke, which is published by Crossway in the New Testament Theology series edited by Thomas R. Schreiner and Brian S. Rosner.

In the gospel, Luke demonstrates a rich knowledge of the Old Testament and points to Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection as the culmination of Old Testament prophecy. Dr. Gladd explains the dominant biblical-theological themes in Luke and demonstrates how drawing from the Old Testament, Luke affirms Christ’s long-awaited redemption.

Benjamin L. Gladd is professor of New Testament at Reformed Theological Seminary in Jackson, Mississippi. He is the author of Handbook on the Gospels (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2021) and From Adam and Israel to the Church: A Biblical Theology of the People of God (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2019). Along with G. K. Beale, he is the co-author of The Story Retold: A Biblical-Theological Introduction to the New Testament (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2020). Dr. Gladd is also series editor for IVP’s Essential Studies in Biblical Theology and Baker’s Handbook on the New Testament.

Links

• Conference: Preaching and Teaching the New Testament Use of the Old Testament

Chapters

• 00:07 Introduction
• 00:41 Cultivating an Intellectual Life
• 14:53 Approaching this Project
• 20:54 Who Was Theophilus?
• 27:04 The Early Chapters of Luke
• 29:47 Titles for Jesus
• 33:17 The Theme of Reversal
• 38:54 An Apostolic Hermeneutic
• 40:12 The Exodus Theme in Luke
• 47:31 The Wilderness Theme in Luke
• 54:29 A Conference on the NT use of the OT
• 58:04 Conclusion

Participants: Benjamin Gladd, Camden Bucey

We turn to pp. 306–308 of Geerhardus Vos’s book, Biblical Theology: Old and New Testaments to discuss revelation connected with the nativity. From the various texts that range from the annunciation of the angel to Joseph to the prophecy of Anna, Vos takes the “characteristic features” of these narratives and arranges them in a topical manner.

Chapters

• 00:07 Introduction
• 10:32 Continuity with the Old Testament
• 20:02 Revelation as an Organism
• 30:29 The New Redemptive Character of Revelation
• 36:04 The Absence of Political Aspects
• 47:18 The Absence of Legalism
• 53:37 Conclusion

Participants: Camden Bucey, Lane G. Tipton

The baptism of Jesus is a pivotal event in the life of Christ and in all of redemptive history. In this episode, we explore its significance, seek to answer the question of why Jesus would need to undergo a baptism of repentance, and examine some of the thematic elements of his baptism.

Participants: Joel Fick, Mark A. Winder

We welcome Dr. O. Palmer Robertson to discuss his new book, Christ of the Consummation, Volume 1: The Testimony of the Four Gospels (P&R Publishing, 2022). In this first of three volumes, Dr. Robertson emphasizes the eyewitness character of the four men who attest to the supernatural in-breaking of the Christ. In the rich tapestry of the Gospels, we see Christ overcome the powers of Satan, gradually unveil his identity by words and works, call and commission disciples, die on the cross, be raised, and ascend to heaven. By each witnessing distinctive aspects of the coming of the King and the establishment of his kingdom, the gospel writers boldly describe a new phase in redemptive revelation.

O. Palmer Robertson (ThM, ThD, Union Theological Seminary, Virginia) is the founder of Consummation Ministries. Previously, he was director and principal of African Bible University in Uganda and taught at Reformed Theological Seminary, Westminster Theological Seminary, Covenant Theological Seminary, and Knox Theological Seminary. He has also served for many years as a teaching elder in various pastoral roles.

He is the author of several books, including The Christ of the Covenants, The Christ of the Prophets, and The Christ of Wisdom, and The Israel of God. In 2008, a Festschrift was published in his honor. The Hope Fulfilled: Essays in Honor of O. Palmer Robertson, which includes contributions by Bruce Waltke, Richard Gaffin, George W. Knight III, Simon J. Kistemaker, Robert L. Reymond, and Morton H. Smith.

Chapters

• 00:07 Introduction
• 02:09 Background to Christ of the Consummation
• 10:22 The Messianic Self-Consciousness
• 17:00 The Kingdom of God
• 28:47 A Global Perspective of the Kingdom
• 35:02 The Centrality of Christ’s Death
• 39:50 The Synoptic Gospels and Their Relation to John
• 43:08 The Gospels Are Not the End of the Story
• 52:00 Conclusion

Participants: Camden Bucey, O. Palmer Robertson

In this episode we see how John, the last prophet of the Old Covenant, transitions us to the New Covenant era by announcing the arrival of the LORD in the person of Jesus Christ. The focus of the passage is not on the uniqueness of John the Baptist, but the uniqueness of the one toward whom he points.

Participants: Joel Fick, Mark A. Winder

We look at the significance of a trio of prophecies: the flight to Egypt, Jeremiah’s prophecy of the weeping of Rachel, and that “he would be called a Nazarene.” Matthew identifies Jesus with us, so that we might identify with him. The glorious king is not what many expected, and his kingdom does not look the way many expect.

Participants: Joel Fick, Mark A. Winder

Dr. Benjamin L. Gladd, Associate Professor of New Testament at Reformed Theological Seminary in Jackson, Mississippi, speaks about his new Handbook on the Gospels. This book is part of a series edited by Dr. Gladd and published by Baker Academic, which covers the entirety of the New Testament in three volumes. Neither becoming preoccupied with the minutiae of the text nor losing sight of the big picture, Gladd’s handbook address the content of the gospels thoroughly yet in an accessible and compelling manner.

Participants: Benjamin Gladd, Camden Bucey

We turn to the third sermon in Grace and Glory, a collection of sermons Geerhardus Vos preached at the Miller Chapel of Princeton Theological Seminary. In “Seeking and Saving the Lost,” Vos preaches from Luke 19:10, wherein Jesus describes his ministry to redeem sinners and to bring them into communion with the one true and living God.

Participants: Camden Bucey, Danny Olinger, Lane G. Tipton

Danny Olinger, Lane Tipton, and Camden Bucey discuss Geerhardus Vos’s sermon, “Hungering and Thirsting after Righteousness” from Matthew 5:6. This sermon is included in Grace and Glory: Sermons Preached at Princeton Theological Seminary.

Participants: Camden Bucey, Danny Olinger, Lane G. Tipton

Matthew’s account of the visit of the Magi is not exactly the story as we know it from our cultural Christmas traditions. The response of these wisemen to the birth of Jesus is what the response of Herod should have been, and what our response should be, namely, worship.

Participants: Joel Fick, Mark A. Winder

In today’s episode we look at Matthew’s account of the genesis of Jesus. In this account of his birth story Matthew draws our attention to the particular perspective of Joseph, the comforting message of the angel, the wonder of the virgin birth, the glory of the Immanuel promise, and the significance of the name of Jesus as the one who saves his people from their sins.

Participants: Joel Fick, Mark A. Winder

As the Gospel According to Matthew begins we are introduced to the royal line of Jesus, where Matthew presents Jesus to us as the Davidic king, the universal king, and the final king through whom all of God’s purposes are fulfilled.

Participants: Joel Fick, Mark A. Winder

We take a brief break from our regular schedule in Geerhardus Vos’s book, Biblical Theology: Old and New Testaments, to discuss Vos’s sermon “Rabboni,” on John 20:16. This sermon is found in Grace & Glory, a collection of Vos’s sermons preached at the chapel of Princeton Seminary.

John 20:1–18 (ESV)

Now on the first day of the week Mary Magdalene came to the tomb early, while it was still dark, and saw that the stone had been taken away from the tomb. ² So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” ³ So Peter went out with the other disciple, and they were going toward the tomb. ⁴ Both of them were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. ⁵ And stooping to look in, he saw the linen cloths lying there, but he did not go in. ⁶ Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen cloths lying there, ⁷ and the face cloth, which had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen cloths but folded up in a place by itself. ⁸ Then the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; ⁹ for as yet they did not understand the Scripture, that he must rise from the dead. ¹⁰ Then the disciples went back to their homes. 

¹¹ But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb, and as she wept she stooped to look into the tomb. ¹² And she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet. ¹³ They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” ¹⁴ Having said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. ¹⁵ Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” ¹⁶ Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher). ¹⁷ Jesus said to her, “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ ” ¹⁸ Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”—and that he had said these things to her. 

Participants: Camden Bucey, Lane G. Tipton

As we read about in Matthew 3, John the Baptist breathed in an “atmosphere surcharged with the thought of the end.”[1] In his mind his baptism was the final opportunity before “water” would be eschatologically outmoded by “the Holy Spirit and fire.” He thought that the time for repentance would reach its terminus with the appearance of the Christ—then water would be superseded by the Holy Spirit and fire, no longer for repentance but for final salvation and judgment.[2] Jesus, however, steps onto the scene and rather than enacting a redemptive-historical transition to his eschatological baptism, he comes to be baptized by John. But John protests. Now his protest was not for them to reverse roles as if Jesus was simply to administer John’s own baptism of water. Rather, John believes that it was now time for his baptism to be superseded by the eschatological baptism of Christ.[3] In John’s eyes, the appearance of the Messiah alone was enough to transition redemptive-history into the eschatological era of the Messiah. His protest reveals he was ignorant of what must first be fulfilled in order for this to happen. This confusion over the timing and nature of Christ’s coming will persist with John and his disciples (9:9-13; 11:2-6). In order to correct John’s redemptive-historical misunderstanding (or mistiming), Jesus responds, “Let it be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness (Ἄφες ἄρτι, οὕτως γὰρ πρέπον ἐστὶνἡμῖν πληρῶσαι πᾶσαν δικαιοσύνην, 3:15). The first clause (“Let is be so now”) affirms that John was correct to expect a redemptive-historical transition, but it was not yet time—more than just the appearance of the Christ was necessary. It was thus fitting for Jesus to be baptized now (ἄρτι) because he and John had not yet fulfilled “all righteousness” (πᾶσαν δικαιοσύνην). If Jesus’ words are responding to this larger redemptive-historical timing issue, then it would seem natural to understand “all righteousness” here as including, but also going beyond his baptism to encompass all that he accomplishes in his life, death and resurrection. For it is only after these accomplishments that the transition John anticipated takes place and Christ commissions his disciples to baptize the nations in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit (28:19).[4] Jesus, therefore, does not submit himself to John’s baptist as a mere example to be followed, but to propel redemptive-history forward in himself as the true Israel who repents not for his own sins, but for the sins of his people whom he came to save (1:21). It is important to keep in mind that John does not administer a different baptism to Jesus; it is still a baptism with water for repentance on account of sin. Already the presence and problem of sin has been elucidated and deliverance from it has been tied to the mission of Jesus, the son of Abraham, the son of David (1:1). In Matt. 1:21 the people are understood not in the abstract, but specifically as those who belong to Jesus (“his people,” τὸν λαὸν αὐτοῦ) and who personally possess their own sins (“their sins,” τῶν ἁμαρτιῶν αὐτῶν). How is someone saved from their sin? Forgiveness (see 9:2, 5, 6; 12:31). And how is someone forgiven? By the poured out blood of Jesus Christ (see 26:28). Therefore, the death of Christ was a necessary redemptive-historical accomplishment for John’s preparatory ministry and the eschatological shift that he anticipated (16:21; 17:22-23; 20:17-19)—much more than the mere appearance of the Messiah was necessary. In Matt. 3:6 we read of people confessing (ἐξομολογέω) their sins as they are baptized by John. In relation to Christ and his work, sin is forgiven by him and on account of him. In relation to people, sin is confessed. The confession (or repentance) cannot be isolated from its Christological basis, the death and resurrection of Jesus, that makes it effectual for salvation. But we may be able to say more than this, for Jesus himself undergoes John’s baptism with water for repentance. As the true Israel (cf. 2:15), he makes a true confession of sins, not for his own sins, but vicariously for the sake of his people he came to save. In fulfilling all righteousness, “[Jesus] had no other calling than to comply with the demands that God had imposed on every Israelite. … [So Matthew] brings out Jesus’ solidarity with the human race and, indeed, with sinners.”[5]

[1] Geerhardus Vos, Biblical Theology, 318. [2] On the Holy Spirit and fire pertaining to salvation and judgment, respectively, see Herman Ridderbos, Matthew, 54. The same juxtaposition can be found in Ezek. 36:26-32; Joel 2:28-31; Zech. 12:9-10. [3] Herman Ridderbos, Matthew, 57. [4] It seems this is the same eschatological baptism expected by John, but now expanded to include the Father and the Son, possibly corresponding with the revelation of the Son by the Father and the Father by the Son (so 11:25-27). [5] Herman Ridderbos, Matthew, 58-59.

Matthew often speaks of Christ as fulfilling the Scriptures (e.g., Matt. 1:22; 2:23; 8:17). When the Scripture referenced is a promise or a prediction, the idea of fulfillment is relatively straightforward (as in Matt. 21:4–5). But what can Matthew mean by saying that Christ fulfills the Scripture when the Old Testament passage in question was a historical notice? Consideration of one passage, Matthew 2:13–18, where this is the case may shed some light on the general meaning. This pericope contains two episodes, each ending with a fulfillment formula (Matt. 2:15, 18). These two episodes relate how Joseph took the child Jesus to Egypt to escape the wrath of Herod, who wound up destroying all the young children in the environs of Bethlehem. In this brief section, there are allusions to Genesis and Exodus, as well as quotations from Hosea and Jeremiah, which will be considered in turn.

Genesis 46

The patriarch Israel and his sons have been summoned to go into Egypt by Joseph, the betrayed brother who has risen to be ruler of the land. This news came as a shock to his father (Gen. 45:26), who had previously refused to be comforted for Joseph’s non-existence (Gen. 37:35; 42:36). As the journey reached its first stage, Jacob/Israel was confirmed in his purpose by speech with God “in visions of the night” (Gen. 46:2). God promised to go with them into Egypt, and bring them out again, as well as the note that Joseph would be present at Jacob’s deathbed (Gen. 46:4). It was thus by faith in God’s promised presence and restoration that Jacob left the land of promise to sojourn in the land of Egypt. These thematic echoes make this a suitable passage for Matthew to allusively incorporate into the fabric of his narrative of the early life of Jesus. The question of presence is important for Matthew’s account of Jesus. He is God with us (1:23), he is present wherever two or three gather in his name (18:20), and he is with his disciples as they pursue his commission until the very end of the age (28:20). Thus the promise of God’s presence in Egypt in the text of Genesis was likely to attract Matthew’s attention. Furthermore, Matthew relates the descent of Joseph, Mary, and Jesus into Egypt with a view to explaining that they came out: that juxtaposition of entrance and exodus is also found in Genesis 46. Although God addresses the patriarch as “Jacob, Jacob” (Gen. 46:2), the text itself speaks of Israel as journeying, and God speaking to Israel (Gen. 46:1–2). There is a certain ambiguity to the name, because it can refer to Jacob as an individual, or to the whole clan and nation springing from him. This ambiguity creates room in which Matthew can present Jesus as Israel, the one who finally recapitulates and encapsulates what is true of God’s people. Jacob went into Egypt, but only his embalmed corpse came out (Gen. 50:2, 13). Jesus went down into Egypt and returned, because God was with him, as the original promise given to Jacob in Genesis 46 guaranteed. How could it be otherwise when Jesus is the locus of God’s presence with his people (Matt. 1:23)?

Exodus

There are multiple allusions to the events of Exodus in this part of Matthew. There are at least tacit comparisons between Jesus and Moses on the score of being infants threatened with death by tyrannical monarchs (Matt. 2:13 and Exod. 2:3).[i] The fact that other infants die when the one special named infant does not is another point of similarity between the two narratives. There is also an echo of God’s words to Moses in Exodus 4:19 when Joseph is told that “those who sought the child’s life are dead” (Matt. 2:20).[ii] In the text of Exodus itself, it is clear that the experience of Moses the deliverer and Israel the delivered contain parallels. Both left Egypt in haste (Exod. 2:15; 12:39). Both were in a manner drawn out of water (Exod. 2:9; 14:22). Later revelation points out that ultimately both spent forty years in the wilderness (Acts 7:30; Num. 14:33). The dialectic of individual and people again allows an ambiguity where Matthew can represent Christ as the new Moses, as well as the new Israel.[iii] For instance, when Christ spends forty days fasting in the wilderness and being put to the test (Matt. 4:1–2) this inevitably reminds the reader both of Moses’ extended fast on Sinai (Exod. 34:28) and of Israel’s long years of trial (Deut. 8:2). This dual presentation is not an inconceivable stretch, because Moses was the representative and mediator of Israel as they were constituted a nation. It should also be noticed that in both Genesis and Matthew, Egypt is a place of safety and provision, whereas in Exodus it is the place of danger and bondage. Herod’s rule, then, makes Bethlehem into an analogue of Egypt, returning the promised land to the state it was in before God’s promises to Abraham were fulfilled through Joshua. The deliverer is born as promised in Bethlehem (Matt. 2:6), but as far as his safety went, pagan Egypt was a better place than the city of David. It is hard to imagine a more stinging indictment of the national condition at the time of Christ’s birth: the only way it could get worse is if they were to succeed in killing Christ…[iv] The importance of Exodus as a source of Matthew’s portrayal of Jesus is further confirmed by his explicit quotation of Hosea, since he chooses a passage in which Hosea remembers the events of Exodus.

Hosea 11:1

The prophet Hosea addressed an impassioned appeal to the disobedient kingdom of Israel (i.e., the northern ten tribes which had broken away from allegiance to the house of David). As part of that appeal he reminded them of the great watershed event of Exodus – their deliverance from Egypt. Thus God speaks of his love for Israel as a child, a love which was exhibited in calling his son out of Egypt. Here Hosea himself is alluding to the terms of God’s word to Moses in Exodus 4:22, as well as to the successful departure from Egypt recorded in the following chapters. The affectionate terms as well as the historic facts bore witness to the depth of God’s love for his people. And yet that people did not respond in kind, but were constantly unfaithful (Hosea 11:2). When Matthew took up that great word that God called his son out of Egypt, the quotation is from Hosea, but that quotation includes the allusion to Exodus 4:22. Thus the affectionate term for Israel, “my son” was applied to Jesus. He is truly God’s Son, the firstborn. The terms of Exodus and Hosea apply most fully and properly to him. The process of inner-biblical exegesis which led Hosea to reflect on Exodus 4 is continuing, with ever-increasing clarity. The faithlessness of corporate Israel (or “Ephraim” as Hosea says in 11:2, 8–9) placed an enormous question mark over its status as God’s son. Can it be that this is how the son of God behaves? The answer is no; but the full solution of this dilemma awaited the appearance of God’s ultimate Son, who fulfills all righteousness (Matt. 3:15). Blomberg argues for seeing in Matthew’s usage of Hosea an instance of “pure typology,” that is to say, “divinely intended ‘coincidence’” discerned in “striking parallels between God’s actions in history.”[v] This is not quite strong enough. The striking parallels are present because God is gradually making clear over time the ultimate referent of all these events. It is not that the Exodus was similar to the life of Jesus because God repeats himself. Rather, the meaning of the Exodus was Jesus. The deliverance of Israel from Egypt was a model meant to point to the greater deliverance of God’s true and natural Son, and of all God’s people in and through him. It is thus not sufficient to say that Exodus or Hosea can be appropriated to explain Christ: rather, Christ was the point all along (see Vos on Christology and Hermeneutics).[vi] As Ulrich Luz put it: “It is true for Matthew and for all of early Christianity that the OT alone makes it possible to proclaim and understand the risen Jesus.”[vii] This was made clear in the unfolding of revelation not only by successive recapitulations and the individual-corporate dialectic already mentioned, but also by the failures of the people which are so strongly emphasized in the context of Hosea 11:1. The deliverance of the people from Egyptian bondage was not an ultimate deliverance; in no small measure, they carried their bondage with them. That was why Herod could recreate Egypt in Bethlehem. The types necessarily looked forward. Their good features suggested categories within which God’s great work on behalf of his people and presence with them could be understood. But their very imperfections highlighted their prospective nature. Because of this future orientation, it is not the case that God did again with Jesus what he did before through Moses. Moses was just a preparatory prologue. Because Christ was not just another in a series of parallels, but the culmination and goal of the whole redemptive-history, fulfillment of prophetic utterance comes to its height in him. Matthew shows this by highlighting that even the surroundings of Christ are fulfilling prophetic words, in this case those of Jeremiah.

Jeremiah 31:15

As Blomberg points out, this verse contains one note of sorrow “that reflects the current grief surrounding the Assyrian and Babylonian exiles” in a chapter that is otherwise full of glorious promises.[viii] The sorrow of mothers bereaved of their children is personified as Rachel weeping for her children. As pointed out above, the language here may draw on Jacob’s grief over Joseph’s loss. Rachel is mentioned only three times in the Hebrew Bible outside of Genesis. There is reference to the location of her grave in 1 Samuel 10:2; her name is linked with Leah’s as a term of blessing in Ruth 4:11; and there is Jeremiah 31:15. The citation of this text in Matthew 2:18 provides the only New Testament reference to her. It is thus an interesting question why Jeremiah chose to speak of Rachel weeping for her children. The Genesis narrative reveals her as envious (Gen. 30:1), and as seeing herself in conflict with her sister Leah (Gen. 30:8). Her sorrow over her initial barrenness was perhaps only partially alleviated by Joseph’s birth (cf. Gen. 30:22–24). As she died giving birth to her second son and named him “Son of my sorrow”, she was a sufficiently natural choice as a type of grief (Gen. 35:16-19). It seems likely that the text was suggested to Matthew’s mind because of the association of Rachel’s burying place with Bethlehem (Gen. 35:19; 48:7). She weeps in Ramah because this was “a stopping-off point for the captives from Judah and Jerusalem on their way to exile in Ramah.”[ix] This last point can be verified by a reference to Jer. 40:1, which shows that Jeremiah was taken with other captives of the Babylonians as far as Ramah before being released. Perhaps the sight of the other captives who were not so fortunate added a very immediate pathos to Jeremiah’s composition of these words. In the sorrow of bereaved mothers, Matthew sees a point of contact between Jeremiah’s words and the aftermath of Herod’s massacre. It is as though all the sorrows of loss in the long record of Israel’s oppressions were now revealed in the desolation surrounding the unsuccessful attempt on the life of Jesus. Perhaps this fulfillment also suggested some comfort. Jesus would return from his time in Egypt, as Matthew goes on to narrate: just as Jeremiah had prophesied that the children who were not would return (Jer. 30:16).[x] Rachel ultimately need not weep for her non-existent children when Jesus has come in fulfillment of the prophetic word, as the presence of God with us, and as the one who saves his people from their sins. However that may be, it is clear that all kinds of prophetic words are finding their fulfillment in and around Christ. It is not the occasional messianic prediction only that he fulfills, but the meaning of the prophets taken quite broadly.

Conclusion

The preceding discussion leads to the conclusion that Matthew thinks of the prophetic word as something that required fulfillment, even when that word was not obviously predictive. Neither the quotations nor the allusions found in the section considered have any obviously future connotation in their original contexts, but are historical remarks. Even the quotation from Jeremiah, which does come from a context of promise, refers to the sorrow as a past or present event, not as something to be looked for in the future. For Matthew, however, these historical notices are not mere statements of fact, nor even (as might have been expected from the Hosea reference) the basis for strong exhortation or rebuke. Rather, they have a referent ultimately beyond the boundaries of the historical events considered in themselves. History can be fulfilled only if it had a meaning, a goal whose character was in some sense sketched out in the events leading up to it. In other words, Matthew’s typology is not simply a question of repeating patterns, but involves the whole concept of redemptive-history. It is a very clear lesson of the fulfillment formula that God is in control of the events. And in the events of the life of Jesus, the plan of God which was adumbrated in the past experiences of Jacob, Rachel, Moses, Israel, and Jeremiah is coming to its culmination. This has implications for Matthew’s hermeneutical method. If he is interpreting the Scriptures typologically within a redemptive-historical framework, it is not possible to say that he twists the Scriptures[xi] except by rejecting his presupposition of a genuine advance in the progress of redemption that is focused on the coming of Christ. “The concept of fulfillment is at the heart of biblical theology.”[xii] On Matthew’s presuppositions, then, the genuine twisting of the Scriptures would be by trying to understand them without reference to Jesus Christ. He is the fulfillment of all the prophetic word.

For Further Reading

Apart from the books mentioned in the endnotes—Commentary on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament and the collection of essays, The Right Doctrine from the Wrong Text?—readers may find these studies of particular interest.

• R.T. France, Jesus and the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1971)
• Hugh Martin, The Abiding Presence (Fearn, Ross-Shire: Christian Heritage, 2009)
• “Fulfillment in Matthew as Eschatological Reversal” and “The Last Adam: A Theology of the Obedient Life of Jesus in the Gospels”—two interviews with Dr. Brandon Crowe.

[i] Noted by Craig L. Blomberg, “Matthew” in G.K. Beale and D.A. Carson, eds., Commentary on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007), 7. [ii] Both parallels are mentioned by Ulrich Luz, Matthew 1–7: A Commentary on Matthew 1–7 (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2007), 119. [iii] Cf. the explanation of corporate solidarity in terms of “the interchange between the nation and its representative, with the Messiah being the embodiment of Israel’s hopes and the ultimate recipient of God’s promises to his people” by Richard N. Longenecker, “Who Is the Prophet Talking About? Some Reflections on the New Testament Use of the Old,” pp.375–386 in G.K. Beale, ed., The Right Doctrine from the Wrong Texts?: Essays on the Use of the Old Testament in the New (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 1994), 377. [iv] Luz, Matthew, 121 is right in saying that “What we have here, however, is not a merely biographical interest in documenting the various stations of Jesus’ vitafrom the OT but a christological statement made with geographical statements.” [v] Blomberg, “Matthew,” 8. [vi] Cf. the comment of Douglas A. Oss, “The Interpretation of the ‘Stone’ Passages by Peter and Paul: A Comparative Study,” (JETS1989), 182: “Primary to the approach of the New Testament is a pronounced Christocentric perspective that resulted in interpretations being conducted along Christological lines in a very consistent manner.” [vii] Luz, Matthew, 131. [viii] Blomberg, “Matthew,” 9. [ix] Gerald L. Keown, Pamela J. Scalise and Thomas G. Smothers, Jeremiah 26–52 (Dallas: Word Books, 1995), 119 [x] So Blomberg, ”Matthew,” 10. [xi] As does S.V. McCasland, “Matthew Twists the Scriptures,” pp. 146–152 in The Right Doctrine from the Wrong Texts, when he says (147–148): “As only Matthew records the flight to Egypt, there is a strong possibility that the entire episode is an inference from the misunderstood Hosea 11:1.” [xii] Longenecker, “Prophet,” 376.

Matthias Konradt, Israel, Church, and the Gentiles in the Gospel of Matthew. Translated by Kathleen Ess. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2014. Pp. xii + 485. $79.95 (hardcover). Konradt provides a stimulating reconsideration of the gospel of Matthew in order to determine the correct motive for the transition from Jesus’ exclusive ministry to Israel in 10:5-6 to the nations in 28:19. He challenges the traditional “rejection in Israel—turn to the nations” schema in favor of a more positive theological conception that is founded on Matthew’s gradually unfolding narratival Christology. The shift, he argues, is not a hard “break” from Israel to the nations as a consequence of Israel’s rejection, but an organic and “integral aspect of the narrative concept in which Matthew unfolds his Christology” (14). It is not a matter of replacement or supersession, but supplementation and expansion (86-87). In fact, the very opening statement of the gospel—prior to the rejection of the Christ by some within Israel—already has the nations as its ultimate goal and aim, linking the gospel with the universal promises still unfulfilled in redemptive-history. Thus, the opening up of salvation to the nations was not because of a failure on the part of Israel, for they had not yet failed within the story, but because of the nature and identity of Jesus Christ as the son of David, the son of Abraham (1:1). Konradt will specifically uncover the Christological foundation of this transition to be Matthew’s integration of Jesus’ identity as the Davidic-Messianic shepherd of Israel and the Son of God. Yet, the rejection of Jesus is not negligible, but significant to the narrative. In order to integrate both the positive Christological construction of the transition and the negative rejection of the Christ by the religious authorities and Jerusalem, Konradt makes a couple of helpful distinctions that seem to be inherent to the gospel itself. First, he distinguishes between the “nations” and the “church”—two separate entities that are often conflated or thought of as interchangeable. By distinguishing them it becomes apparent that the relationship between Israel and the nations is not the same as the relationship between Israel and the church. Second, he differentiates within Israel between the Jewish crowds, who respond positively to Jesus’ ministry as the one sent to the lost sheep of Israel, and the religious leaders who outright reject and oppose him at every point, even persuading Jerusalem (itself a character in the story distinguished from the crowds of Galilee and not to be confused with Israel as a whole) to have him crucified in the end. This guards against a collective view of Israel’s rejection of the Christ and helps to show how the church was initially formed within Israel by the replacement of the religious authorities with Jesus’ own disciples, which organically leads to salvation extending to the nations. Konradt develops his thesis in three steps: “Jesus mission to Israel, Israel’s reaction, and the possible consequence of a negative reaction” (14). The first step is taken in chapter 2, in which he argues that Matthew “systematically sculpted the orientation toward Israel, formulated programmatically in the mission logion in 15.24, as an essential feature of Jesus’ earthly ministry” (85). This is evident in the “altering of geographical details (4.23-25; 15.29-31)” and the editing of texts in which Jesus’ ministry towards various Gentiles (8:5-13, 28-34; 15:21-28) is presented as “exceptions” to the pre-Easter situation (74, 85), for the καιρός when salvation would extend to the nations had not yet come and would only come post-Easter. The central reason, however, for Jesus’ Israel-oriented ministry was Christological, that is, it was founded upon his identity as the Davidic-Messianic shepherd of Israel. This title integrates both the healing and teaching aspects of his ministry, and its positive connotation reveals that he carried it out not for the sake of justifying his denunciation and rejection of Israel, but positively to fulfill Israel’s promises of salvation (86). In chapter 3, Konradt highlights the differentiated reaction to Jesus in Israel, which he believes Matthew intentionally draws out by distinguishing the authorities and the crowds from one another (135). Maintaining his Christological focus, he notes that the conflict revolved around his authority as the Davidic Messiah, which the crowds recognized in his healings, but the religious leaders directly opposed. Likewise his teaching on the proper understanding of God’s will, i.e., the Law and the Prophets, also proved a dividing line. “To speak of healing and teaching is to speak summarily of the central aspects of Jesus’ ministry (cf. 4.23; 9.35; and 21.14 + 21.32a), and so the opposition against Jesus directed itself against his ministry as a whole” (136). In short, the division between the crowds and authorities was Christological. And this division remained a reality throughout Jesus’ passion, including 27:25. So, argues Konradt, Matthew does not have in view a collective rejection of Jesus in Israel; instead, Jerusalem is now included in the battle lines, which was anticipated in 2:3 and in Jesus foretelling his death (16:21; 17:22-23; 20:17-19). It was not Israel as a whole, but the authorities and the people of Jerusalem who decided against their Messiah (27:25). In chapter 4, Konradt looks at the same issue of differentiation now with regard to Jesus’ pronouncements against Israel—are they also to be distinguished? Konradt argues against the popular notion that Jesus rejected Israel wholesale and defends this against interpretations of various passages that have been used to support “the thesis that Israel as a collective entity will be punished or has forfeited her position” (263). When Jesus climactically declares that the kingdom will be taken from them and given to a people producing its fruit (21:43), Konradt sees this as fulfilled in the replacement of the current religious authorities with his disciples, not the replacement of Israel with the Gentile nations (352). The pronouncements against this generation (11:16-19; 12:38-45; 23:34-36), the destruction of Jerusalem (22:7; 23:37-39), and the parable trilogy all confirm a differentiation that takes place within Israel. This is in keeping with Konradt’s thesis that the transition is founded on positive Christological grounds. While the religious authorities are rejected, those within Israel replace them and are enabled for the task by the authoritative and true teaching of Jesus. Chapter 5 unfolds how the above conclusions relate to “the inclusion of the nations in salvation and the formation of the ecclesia” (264). The turn towards the nations cannot be owing to “the (collective) rejection of Jesus in Israel, the failure of his mission to Israel, or Israel’s guilt and condemnation” (265). The universal intention of salvation is evident from the beginning of the gospel and is founded upon a Christological foundation, anticipated in 1:1 and made a reality following the endowment of the resurrected Christ with universal authority. “In this the ministry of salvation to the nations presumes the ministry to Israel. It is the salvation made known to Israel in which the nations participate” (324). According to Konradt, this corresponds with Matthew’s integration of Jesus’ dual identity as the Davidic Messiah (Israel-specific) and the Son of God(universal). Having confirmed the organic and supplemental nature of the transition from 10:5-6 to 28:19, Konradt takes up the relationship between Israel and the church in chapter 6. Since there is a positive Christological conception that motivates the transition, it is incorrect to associate the church with the nations as if it replaced Israel. The church is not conceived by Matthew to be “the new or true people of God, as opposed to Israel” (352). Rather, the church is first formed within Israel as Jesus replaces the religious authorities with his disciples, who have been entrusted by him with the true teaching of Israel. The church, then, is the “community of salvation that has emerged (and is still emerging) from Israel and the (other) nations” (353). This community is commissioned to incorporate the nations, of which Israel is now a part. In chapter 7, Konradt concludes by noting that past socio-historical approaches have been essentially guesswork and have been unable to integrate all of the elements and motifs present in Matthew’s gospel. This approach, therefore, should be considered subordinate to the theological approach that Konradt has undertaken, which, in turn, may provide constructive lines for the socio-historical approach to follow. Konradt’s work exhibits numerous strengths that make his basic thesis of grounding the transition from 10:5-6 to 28:19 upon a positive Christological foundation compelling. First, his historical-critical exegesis allows for a truly constructive interpretation that builds on the text, rather than a source-critical or socio-historical methodology that aims at mere reconstructive purposes that only (subjectively) arrive at the text (see esp. 10n35). While some of Konradt’s conclusions are based on the assumption of Matthew editing or redacting Mark and Q, his methodology leads him to integrate major elements and motifs in the gospel, to see the uniqueness of Matthew’s gospel, and to engage in careful and critical exegesis. Second, he makes a compelling case for a positive Christological foundation which corresponds with other Matthean studies that have focused on the narratival unfolding of Jesus’ identity as a central goal of the gospel. He consistently and clearly relates each chapter to this basic point of his thesis. Third, he reads the events of the gospel not as abstract soteriological datums or general moralistic axioms, but redemptive-historically. This enables him to see the universality of God’s intentions in Christ as inherent from the beginning since he comes to fulfill promises that have already been given to Abraham and to David. “Matthew anchors the extension of the ministry of salvation to the nations in Israel’s history of salvation by indicating that God’s history with Israel was aimed toward this goal from the very beginning” (307). He is also able to make historical distinctions within the gospel itself between pre- and post-Easter, which illumines the eschatological significance of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Fourth, he makes a host of helpful distinctions where the tendency in the past has been to conflate or confuse. This is especially the case with his distinction between the nations and the church, which seems obvious, but is often not made. This allows for a more nuanced understanding of the relationship between Israel and the church and Israel and the nations. This work can also be critiqued or improved upon in a few places. First, while Konradt tries to integrate Jesus’ son of David and son of God titles in a way that provides a Christological foundation for an organic transition from Israel to the nations, he seems to maintain too strong a distinction between them prior to this integration. For example, he writes, “While the focus on Israel in Jesus’ earthly ministry correlates with the emphasis on his Davidic messiahship, the extension of salvation to the nations is connected with the salvific death, resurrection, and exaltation of the Son of God” (310; also 324). This is problematic because universal, eschatological dimensions are inherent to the Davidic title (2 Sam. 7) as well as to Jesus’ title as the son of Abraham (Matt. 1:1; Gen. 17:4-6; Rom. 4:13). In addition, the son of God title has Davidic Messianic connotations (e.g., Ps. 2). It seems it would be better to formulate Jesus’ identity as the Eternal Son and as the Messianic Son in an archetype-ectype schema in which the ontological is the ground and source of the redemptive-historical. It may, however, be countered that this would be more of a theological rather than narratival construction. Second, in arguing for a positive Christological motivation for the transition, Konradt downplays the significance of Israel’s ignorance of Jesus’ true identity. This takes away from Matthew’s concern to show that Israel must be reconstituted in Christ (e.g., Matt. 2:15). The continuity between Israel and the nations is not found in some of Israel not rejecting him, but in Christ alone as he gathers a people around himself. The children of Abraham have always been those of faith. Finally, it would have be interesting if Konradt had interacted directly with dispensational formulations of the Israel-nations relation. This, however, is not a fault of the book since it was not necessarily the focus of the study. Overall, I would recommend this book to pastors and scholars who plan on preaching or teaching through the gospel of Matthew. Whether you agree with all of Konradt’s conclusions or not (I, for one, did not), he forces you to wrestle with what exactly is the unifying theme and purpose of Matthew’s gospel as well as its driving theological motivation. This will prevent piecemeal interpretations that analyze only the trees, but miss the forest of the gospel.

We come now to Matthew 5:6 of the Sermon on the Mount, in which our Lord is speaking about life in the kingdom of heaven. What does it look like to belong to this coming age? And what is the hope of the coming kingdom for those that belong to it? There is a great disparity between life in this present age and life in the coming kingdom. The qualitative difference between them is exacerbated by sin. For, life in this world is a struggle. Yet there is hope in Christ. Those who trust in him will be blessed: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied (v. 6).” By this, Jesus teaches us that he alone satisfies our fundamental need as humans created in the image of God.

Fundamental Desire

Jesus’s words are based on Psalm 107:5, 9: “⁵ hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted within them. . . . ⁹ For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things.” Hunger and thirst are powerful, because they are the expression of a lack of a fundamental need. We need to eat and drink. There is variability but—generally speaking—we can last three weeks without food and only about three days without any water. But we have an even deeper need than that. Our most fundamental need is union and communion with God. We would not exist apart from his sustaining word of power. Nevertheless, this world seeks to live apart from God. It’s the great irony of sin. We reject God all the while depending on him while we issue our rejection. Van Til was fond of the analogy of a little girl, who slaps her father while being held in his arms. The only reason she can strike out is because she is supported by the very one she slaps. This is unrighteousness. It is anti-God. Righteousness is a recurring theme of the Sermon on the Mount. It is an attribute of God. Indeed, righteousness is identical with God. When we hunger and thirst for righteousness, we ultimately desire a right relationship with God. This involves becoming like him by being conformed to the image of Christ. We can recognize that Jesus’s teaching in Matthew finds great similarity with the teaching of James in his epistle. This is a matter of emphasis, for all of Scripture is unified. The emphasis on righteousness here and in James is justice and the upholding of all that is right in creation. It’s different from Paul’s frequent use of the word righteousness, which is largely a legal term having to do with our standing before God. That is a main feature of Romans 5, for example: “so that, as sin reigned in death, grace also might reign through righteousness leading to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord (Rom. 5:21).” These two conceptions of righteousness are not competitive; they sweetly comply. Nonetheless, we should acknowledge the proper contours of this statement. When our Lord says, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,” I do not believe he is saying, for example, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for the imputed righteousness of Christ that they may be justified and pardoned of their sins.” Something larger is in view, which includes justification by grace through faith, but also the effects of Christ’s righteousness coming into the world in all spheres. All aspects of this age are affected by sin. We live under a curse. This is unsettling to the citizen of Christ’s kingdom. But he will respond and provide ultimate satisfaction.

Ultimate Satisfaction

The word, “satisfied” in verse six means “to eat one’s fill” or “to be content with.” It’s a future passive, which the English renders well. They will not satisfy themselves; they will be satisfied. What does it mean to be satisfied or satiated? I’m sure many of you have enjoyed a large Thanksgiving dinner. There are so many great things to eat: turkey, stuffing, potatoes and gravy, cranberry sauce, pumpkin and pecan pie—you name it. But after sampling hefty portions of each, you’re not left satisfied, you’re left stuffed and in pain. Jesus offers true satisfaction, not another problem. The satisfaction we desire fulfills in all aspects. Citizens of the kingdom desire to see things made right. That will occur ultimately when Christ returns. The coming of Christ to consummate his kingdom will satisfy his people. We have a longing, a desire within us. It’s like a hole in your life that needs to be filled. People try to fill that hole with all sorts of things: money, sex, power, social status, and products. But these will never satisfy, because they cannot fill a God-shaped hole. Augustine understood this as he wrote in his Confessions, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.”[1] Man’s chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever. We were created in the image of God to worship. Unless we worship and serve our Creator and Lord, then by definition, we will not be fulfilled. There are many ways to consider lesser forms of fulfillment. One, for example, may be professional fulfillment. There’s an adage that if you find a job you love, you’ll never work another day in your life. There’s a joy and satisfaction in doing what you love. There’s a beautiful harmony when your abilities, desires, and purpose align with your actions. It’s even better when society supports this alignment. On a big scale, “society” here could be our national government or even the world economy. On a small scale, “society” could be our family or workplace. When we do what we’re made to do and love to do and a community supports us in this alignment, we are satisfied. To be sure, this cannot be understood in terms of secular psychology. We know this through revelation. As we established, human beings are created in God’s image with the specific capacity and calling to worship him. To put it positively, we find the greatest joy by worshiping and serving the Lord. To put it negatively, we will never be satisfied truly apart from worshiping and serving the Lord. And as we live in a cursed world, in which there is a difference between people’s created purpose and their lives (an obedience/worship gap), we will experience a lack of righteousness in society. But we have a great promise: blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Christ will resolve all the injustice in the world. He will establish righteousness in all spheres of life. He will judge the world and sanctify his people. He will align our obedience with our renewed capacities according to his perfect will.

Isaiah 51:1, 4–5—¹ “Listen to me, you who pursue righteousness, you who seek the Lord: look to the rock from which you were hewn, and to the quarry from which you were dug. . . . ⁴ “Give attention to me, my people, and give ear to me, my nation; for a law will go out from me, and I will set my justice for a light to the peoples. ⁵ My righteousness draws near, my salvation has gone out, and my arms will judge the peoples; the coastlands hope for me, and for my arm they wait.

[1] St. Augustine’s Confessions (Lib 1,1–2,2.5,5: CSEL 33, 1–5)

We do not often speak of meekness. We might be hard pressed even to define it. Meekness is not weakness; it’s a measured strength, a control over wrath. It is related to humility. Sinclair Ferguson writes, “It is the humble strength that belongs to the man who has learned to submit to difficulties (difficult experiences and difficult people), knowing that in everything God is working for his good.”[1] In view here is a state of powerlessness or the inability to forward your own cause.[2] The meek possess a patient humility that manifests in a spirit of gentleness. Again, he writes,

There is probably no more beautiful quality in a Christian than meekness. It enhances manliness; it adorns femininity. It is a jewel polished by grace. But it is all too rare. Is that because so few of us know what it is to be poor in spirit and to mourn for our sins?[3]

Christians are called to live in the Spirit of Christ, quietly trusting the Lord to usher in his kingdom. Even under oppression, they must exhibit restraint as they look to their heavenly reward.

Oppression

The people of God are oppressed. This is a feature of life under Roman rule as well we Psalm 37, which forms the context of this beatitude.

Psalm 37:12, 14—¹² The wicked plots against the righteous and gnashes his teeth at him . . . ¹⁴ The wicked draw the sword and bend their bows to bring down the poor and needy, to slay those whose way is upright.

Those in power now are the ambitious and forceful. This is what the world cultivates. You’re encouraged to be bold and to act out for your own benefit. You shouldn’t rest or be resigned to anything substandard life. Instead, you should take what is yours. Might makes right. This is the spirit of the autonomous man. You must act, because you are in control of your own situation. Only the strong survive, and if you are somehow lacking, it’s largely if not exclusively due to your own lack of action. This is the fruit of unbelief. The Lord calls us to trust in him. Meekness is the fruit of a peaceful resting in him will act. Though we are humbled now, he will bring justice.

Psalm 37:9–11—⁹ For the evildoers shall be cut off, but those who wait for the LORD shall inherit the land. ¹⁰ In just a little while, the wicked will be no more; though you look carefully at his place, he will not be there. ¹¹ But the meek shall inherit the land and delight themselves in abundant peace.

The people of the kingdom are meek and humbled now, because they are oppressed by the wicked. They are unable to overthrow the forces of evil, yet they trust in Christ to bring the victory and advance his kingdom. They demonstrate a godly restraint.

Restraint

Jesus exhibits meekness and humility (Matt 11:29; 12:18–21; 21:5).

Matthew 11:29–30—²⁹ Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. ³⁰ For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Matthew 21:5—“Say to the daughter of Zion, ‘Behold, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.’ ”

Compare Peter’s response to the men who came to arrest Jesus. He took a sword and cut off the ear of the high priest’s servant, Malchus (John 18:10). The kingdom does not come by human strength. And it does not come through the weapons of this world. It comes in the strength of our savior and it comes in his time. Even at this hour, our Lord was restrained. He was the lamb led silently to the slaughter. He opened not his mouth. He would conquer through humility. Christians are called to live in the meekness of your savior. Paul ministered this way:

2 Corinthians 10:1—I, Paul, myself entreat you, by the meekness and gentleness of Christ—I who am humble when face to face with you, but bold toward you when I am away! 2 Timothy 2:24–25—²⁴ And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, ²⁵ correcting his opponents with gentleness. . . .

Though we are bold in Christ, we aren’t bullies, pushing people around. We are called to be kind and compassionate—speaking the truth in love. Are we ever justified in acting out against evil and injustice in this life? What about the American Revolution? What about slavery in America and continued racial unrest? What about the state-sponsored genocide we have seen in world history? It is important for us to understand the spirituality of the church. The church’s power is ministerial and declarative. Yet, we must always speak the truth—especially to injustice. We are often called to act against injustice, acknowledging that Scripture calls us to obey our civil authorities insofar as they are not preventing us from obeying the Lord. This side of glory, the people of God will always be oppressed. And we must rest in the Lord to act—to bring in his kingdom of consummate justice and righteousness. Christ is the victor, and it is by grace that we receive his reward.

Reward

Jesus says, “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” If the present age endured forever, the worldly strong would continue to reign and rule. But the meek inherit the earth. It’s not wicked and arrogant tyrants. What does it mean to inherit the earth? It would be wise for us to consider John’s vision of the New Heavens and the New Earth in Revelation 21:1–3.

¹ Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. ² And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. ³ And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God.

Those who will enter into this consummate glorious dwelling place are the meek. Even as we await this world to be transformed and overcome by God’s glory, we too must be transformed to inherit it. This involves the inner transformation of a regenerate heart and the transformation of the body in the glorious resurrection.

1 Corinthians 15:50–52—⁵⁰ I tell you this, brothers: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. ⁵¹ Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, ⁵² in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. Revelation 21:4—He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

Notes

[1] Sinclair B. Ferguson, The Sermon on the Mount: Kingdom Life in a Fallen World,  21. [2] John Nolland, The Gospel According to Matthew (NIGTC), 201. [3] Ferguson, 23.

Today on Theology Simply Profound, we hear a sermon preached at the evening service of Westminster OPC, December 24, 2017, reflecting on Simeon’s reception of Jesus in Luke 2.

Matthew 5:1–16 are known as the Beatitudes, which stems from the Latin term used in the translation of these verses. A beatitude is a declaration of blessing and a statement about why that type of person will be blessed. Blessing here is a covenantal rather than a subjective emotional idea. It’s the bestowal of God’s favor—enjoying his presence. There are nine beatitudes between verses 3 and 10. These verses indicate who the kingdom people are and how they are blessed. As we consider the first of the Beatitudes, we learn that they are the poor in spirit and theirs is the kingdom of heaven. God’s blessing comes upon those who are spiritually poor. The poor in spirit recognize their great need, and they turn to the Lord for his grace. If you are spiritually poor, you turn to the Lord in complete dependence. We shouldn’t get this backwards. Jesus isn’t saying, if you work at becoming spiritually poor, then you will receive the kingdom of heaven. He’s describing the character of those who seek him. The Bible does speak about people who became so destitute that the only thing they had left was their relationship to God.[1] Perhaps there was a death in the family or a severe physical debilitation. Other times it was the result of war or social injustice. Dark times like these often open people’s eyes to their spiritual poverty. This is why Jesus says it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven (Matt 19:23–24). If you have great material wealth, you often are under the assumption that you don’t need anything. You can take care of yourself. Such people are not poor in spirit; they’re rich in self-confidence. In Scripture, the poor are typically the pious and the persecuted.

Isaiah 61:1–2—¹ The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; ² to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn;

Jesus has come to save the poor in spirit. Through his death and resurrection, we enter the kingdom. However, the transition into the kingdom isn’t always pleasant, because the Christian life is a life of suffering.

2 Corinthians 4:7–12—⁷ But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. ⁸ We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; ⁹persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; ¹⁰ always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. ¹¹ For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. ¹² So death is at work in us, but life in you.

Kingdom citizens are poor in spirit. We are crushed, but not destroyed. Jesus’s life is at work in us as we inherit the kingdom. What is the kingdom like? Isaiah 65:17–25 describe the New Heavens and New Earth. It’s a realm characterized by blessing and fruitfulness rather than curses and futility. It’s a reversal of the covenant curses described in Deuteronomy 28. When will the poor in spirit receive it? The New Heavens and New Earth have not yet come. Jesus’s kingdom is not consummated. Nevertheless, this is a present reality. Theirs is the kingdom of heaven is a present tense verb. I believe the most natural way to interpret this sentence in light of the biblical witness is that believers experience the kingdom right now.

Ephesians 2:4–7—⁴ But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, ⁵ even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— ⁶ and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, ⁷ so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.

As Jesus teaches his kingdom ethic here on the mount, it is a foretaste of the eternal setting of God’s kingdom people. Matthew describes the word going forth from the mouth of Jesus on a mountain. This is the great vision of the prophets Isaiah and Micah.

Isaiah 2:2–4—² It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be lifted up above the hills; and all the nations shall flow to it, ³ and many peoples shall come, and say: “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.” For out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. ⁴ He shall judge between the nations, and shall decide disputes for many peoples; and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.

All you poor in spirit: Jesus calls you to come unto him.

Matthew 11:28–30—²⁸ Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. ²⁹ Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. ³⁰ For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Jesus gives you the kingdom. [1] Turner, Matthew (ECNT), 149–150.

Matthew 5:1–3 begins the Sermon on the Mount. The Bible does not use that title. Augustine (354–430 ad) seems to have given Matthew 5–7 this name. Jesus went up on the mountain and taught his disciples these things. The message of this sermon is, “This is what it looks like to repent and be part of the kingdom of heaven.” The kingdom has already begun to arrive, though it has not come in its fullness. As Matthew did, we live in a period of the already/not-yet. Sinclair Ferguson writes: “To belong to the kingdom of God, then, is to belong to the people among whom the reign of God has already begun” (Sermon on the Mount, 3). Matthew 5:1–12 are known as the Beatitudes, which stems from the Latin term used in the translation of these verses. A beatitude is a declaration of blessing and a statement about why that type of person will be blessed. Blessing here is a covenantal rather than a subjective emotional idea. It is the bestowal of God’s favor—enjoying his presence. Being blessed is much more than being “happy.” The opposite of blessed is not “unhappy,” it is “cursed.” There are nine beatitudes and a chiastic structure from 5:3 through 5:10 based on the verbal forms. Notice the parallel between verses 3 and 10:

• ³ “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
• ¹⁰ “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

The phrase “is the kingdom of heaven” (ἐστιν ἡ βασιλεία τῶν οὐρανῶν) serves as a type of bookend. Verses 11–12 then expand on verse 10 to conclude the section. Together, these verses indicate who the kingdom people are and how they are blessed. In coming weeks, we will work through the Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount, exploring what it means for Christians to live distinctly as citizens of the kingdom of heaven.

Today, Rob and Bob talk about John 3:16 in the context of God’s inclusion of the Gentiles into the New Covenant. Was this something that we hear about before the coming of Christ?

Participants: Rob McKenzie, Robert Tarullo

We welcome Brandon Crowe back to the program to speak about the gospel of Matthew. Dr. Crowe is assistant professor of New Testament at Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia. He is the author of the article, “Fulfillment in Matthew as Eschatological Reversal” in Westminster Theological Journal 75 (2013), pp. 111–127. Matthew’s use of the Old Testament has perplexed interpreters for years. It is difficult to ascertain precisely how Jesus “fulfills” the prophets in several of Matthew’s references. Dr. Crowe argues that Jesus not only fulfills the Old Testament as the new Israel and consummate Davidic king, but according to Matthew’s formulae, he does so by reversing Israel’s pattern of covenant infidelity.

Other Episodes with Brandon Crowe

• The Last Adam: A Theology of the Obedient Life of Jesus in the Gospels
• The New Testament Foundations of Trinitarian Theology
• The Message of the General Epistles
• The Virgin Birth of Christ
• Deuteronomy and Christology in the Gospel of Matthew

Participants: Brandon Crowe, Camden Bucey, Jim Cassidy

We welcome Dr. Brandon Crowe to speak about his book, The Last Adam: A Theology of the Obedient Life of Jesus in the Gospels, in which he sets forth the soteriological significance of the life of Jesus in the Gospels. He offers an exegetical case for understanding the Adam-Christ parallel in the Gospels themselves, and thereby allows us to see the great glory of person and work of Christ as he is revealed in all of Scripture.

Other episodes with Brandon Crowe

• Deuteronomy and Christology in the Gospel of Matthew
• The Virgin Birth of Christ
• The Message of the General Epistles
• The New Testament Foundations of Trinitarian Theology

Participants: Brandon Crowe, Camden Bucey

In the Gospels, Jesus is frequently criticized by his enemies for eating with sinners. For example, Luke tells us that when “tax collectors and sinners” were drawing near to hear Jesus, “the Pharisees and the scribes grumbled, saying, ‘This man receives sinners and eats with them’” (Luke 15:1–2). By making this statement, they were attempting to prove that Jesus was not a prophet. The theological significance of Jesus eating with sinners, however, was far more profound than they realized. Jesus was not merely a prophet but was and is, in fact, the eternal Son of God. Sinners were having fellowship in the form of a meal with the one in whom the whole fullness of deity dwelt bodily (Col. 2:9). They were eating and drinking with God himself. The simple fact that Jesus shared a meal with those who, because of sin, had been cut off from fellowship with God signified that salvation had come to sinners. When Adam and Eve sinned, they were driven out of the Garden of Eden away from the presence of the LORD. They were cut off from the intimate communion with God, which they had once enjoyed. But the Lord Jesus Christ, the new Adam, came to restore and perfect the fellowship with God that was lost in the fall. Christ came to end the hostility between God and man and to reconcile them in a covenant bond of communion and fellowship. By eating with sinners, Christ heralded the good news that in him, “God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them” (2 Cor. 5:19). His table fellowship with sinners was a visible gospel. It visibly proclaimed the good news of salvation for the lost. In Luke 15, when Jesus was criticized for eating with sinners (vv. 1–2), he told three parables in response to the criticism: the parables of the lost sheep (vv. 3–7), the lost coin (vv. 8–10), and the prodigal son (vv. 11–32). These parables explain the significance of Jesus receiving sinners and eating with them. Eating with sinners was a sign that the lost sheep had been found, the lost coin had been recovered, and the prodigal son had returned to his father’s house and was feasting at his table. Thus, by eating with sinners, Christ visibly proclaimed the good news of salvation to the lost; his actions symbolized and confirmed the message he preached. This is why Jesus characterized evangelism as an invitation to attend a feast in the Father’s house. In the parable of the great banquet, for example, the master of the feast orders his servants, “Go out quickly to the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in the poor and crippled and blind and lame” that they may partake of the feast (Luke 14:21). When the master discovers that there is still room, he sends his servants out again saying, “Go out to the highways and hedges and compel people to come in, that my house may be filled” (v. 23). Thus, evangelism may be characterized as an invitation to all people without exception to come to the Father’s house and sit as welcome guests at his table and enjoy loving fellowship and communion with him by his Spirit through the merit and mediation of Jesus Christ. By the simple act of eating with sinners, our Lord Jesus Christ was visibly proclaiming the good news of salvation for the lost.

If someone were to ask you to write a short book about Jesus, who he was and what he did, what would you write? If paper and ink were very expensive, so that you had to choose your words carefully, would you begin with a long list of Hebrew names? Probably not. And yet that is presicely what Matthew did when he wrote his gospel. In Matthew 1:1-17, he asks our attention first of all for a list of names. Why? Because it places Jesus Christ squarely in the history of Israel. His genealogy underscores that he is truly the Savior that Israel had been anticipating for so many generations.

God Makes a New Beginning 

In the genealogy there are some familiar names: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Judah; Boaz, Jesse, and David; Solomon, Jehoshaphath, Hezekiah, and Josiah. Some may recognize Zerubbabel, who was the leader of Israel when they returned from exile in Babylon. But notice the last twelve names are unfamiliar; in fact, they are not found elsewhere in the Bible. These people were not influential in Israel. They were not kings, nor prestigious leaders; rather, they were Jews subject to Roman oppressors, and their greatest claim to fame was likely as respected elders in the local synagogue. Jesus’ family tree, which begins with a rich landowner, Abraham, and contains kings like David and Solomon, fizzes out in osbcurity. When the Christ, the Messiah, is born, he is a shining star in a dark sky, bright hope in a world of hopelessness. And so Matthew tells his fellow Jews that it is time; time for renewal and restoration; time to break out of the downward spiral, out of obscurity, out of despair. The Lord, once again, is doing a great work. In a way, this message was not completely new for the people of God. After all, they were looking forward. Their hopes were directed to the coming of the Servant of God, the Messiah. He would redeem Israel; he would set them free; he would bring peace; he would renew all things. Matthew’s challenge is not so much to convince his readers that the Christ will come; but rather, to convince them that Jesus is this Anointed One of God. What reason is there to believe that the prophecies are fulfilled now? that they have come true in this man, in Jesus of Nazareth? There are, of course, many things that prove Jesus is indeed the Messiah. But Matthew’s first argument is based on a pattern he finds in history. The genealogy of Jesus consists of three parts, of fourteen generations each, three periods in which God made a new beginning with his people, a new order. First God joined himself to Abraham and his family. The patriarchs served the Lord, and settled in the promised land. But there was also much decay and in the time of the judges the Lord was almost forgotten. But after fourteen generations, God brought renewal and a new order. He made David king over his people, and Jerusalem became a glorious center of worship. King after king ruled in the name of the Lord. Yet they too forgot their God, and so eventually came a time of judgment. Again, fourteen generations later, the Lord brought a new order through captivity and rebuilding. Again, the glory faded quickly. Israel became subject to Greek and Roman rulers, and was in great need of spiritual revival. And now fourteen more generations have passed. If God continues working as he did before, it is time once again. It is time for a new revival, a new powerful leader in the family tree of Abraham and David. Don’t be surprised, says Matthew, that the Messiah has come now. It fits perfectly with the pattern of God’s history with his people. This is a new time of restoration. A new order has begun. Because a new name can be added to the genealogy, a name greater yet than the names of Abraham and David. His name is Jesus; and he redeems his people from all their sins.

The Savior Redeems a People Steeped in Sin

Alright, a pious Jew may say, you have made your point. This is the time of the Messiah. But are you sure it is this man, this Jesus? Does he even qualify? Jesus could claim to be a descendant of David. But he was born from a lowly family, in poor circumstances. Not only that, there were plenty of rumors surrounding his birth. It was a public secret that Joseph was not the father. Jesus was a gifted teacher; but he was also born on the wrong side of the sheets. Should the Messiah not have a purer family line? But before even talking about the virgin birth, Matthew shows that God is not impressed by what people consider pure. The Lord works his salvation through the brokenness of human life, through people of low reputation, even through a poor young girl like Mary. That, I believe, is the main reason why Matthew includes four women in his genealogy: to show that God often works with what people despise. Tamar, a pagan girl who became the ancestor of Jesus by pretending to be a prostitute and sleeping with her father-in-law. Rahab, a Canaanite woman of ill reputation, saved only because she showed unexpected loyalty to the Lord. Ruth, the Moabitess. Bathsheba, wife of a pagan husband Uriah, who was raped by king David in the darkest chapter of his life. God continued his plan of salvation through these mothers. Who, then, could reject Jesus because of his poor mother or the strange circumstances of his birth? There is comfort here: the Lord worked salvation through a long line of sinners. The names of Tamar and Bathsheba are but the tip of the iceberg. Our God delights in taking what is poor and sinful, and turning it into something beautiful and good. Out of a broken family line came the Savior; out of our broken lives God builds a people that knows, loves and glorifies him.

Jesus is the Endpoint of God’s Covenants

The “hinges” in the genealogy are the names of Abraham and David. Jesus, says Matthew, is the “son of Abraham” and the “son of David” (1:1). This means more than being just a descendant of these men, Jesus Christ is the endpoint of God’s great work that he started with these two believers. Long ago, God had chosen Abraham to be his friend, with whom he made a gracious covenant: “I will be your God, and you will be my people.” This relationship of blessing and worship continued from generation to generation. Often the Bible tells us that God remembered his covenant with Abraham, and that he rescued his people for the sake of Abraham. The greatest promise of this covenant was that Abraham’s offspring would become a blessing to all nations. This promise becomes true when Jesus is born. This descendant of Abraham extends the blessing throughout the world. Billions of people, from thousands of different ethnicities, are now blessed with Abraham’s blessing, through faith in Jesus Christ. In the same way, God had chosen David to be his beloved king, “a man after his own heart.” The blessings promised to Abraham—of blessing, land, and offspring—were given to David and his family in a most intimate way: “I will be a Father to you, and you will be my son.” David’s family line had become the leaders of the descendants of Abraham. David’s throne would be glorious, established forever, and rule the whole world. This promise is fulfilled when Jesus is born. The great Son of David has come, and he is now sitting on the throne, the Son in intimate fellowship with the Father, and he rules over all. Matthew teaches us to see in Jesus the fulfilment of the great Old Testament covenants. Abraham’s line of blessing and David’s line of kingship meet in the Anointed One. The endpoint of the genealogy marks the fulfillment of the work that God began.

Jesus Ushers in a New Creation

A final observation about the beginning of Matthew. Note that Matthew imitates the language and style of Genesis. Genesis repeatedly says: “These are the generations [toledoth] of so and so,” beginning with the “generations of heaven and earth” and ending with the “generations of Jacob.” In particular, Genesis 5 is a genealogy starting with Adam, and it begins with the comment: “This is the book of the generations of Adam.” It is no accident that Matthew uses the very same expression. His gospel tells a story just as important as that of Genesis. His genealogy is just as important as that of the first human being. While Genesis tells us about God’s work of creation through Adam and all that came after him, Matthew tells about God’s work of salvation beginning with Abraham. Adam was first in the list of people on earth; Abraham is first in the list of the people of the covenant. It is no exaggeration to think of Matthew as a New Testament version of Genesis. He even uses the word genesis in 1:18: “The genesis (Gk. γένεσις; “birth”) of Jesus happened as follows…” Instead of Adam and Eve we have Joseph, Mary and Jesus. Instead of the patriarchs there will be disciples. And the gracious activity of Yahweh, creator and ruler of all, morphs into the teachings and healings of Jesus Christ the King. Allow me some speculation. When Matthew 1:17 emphasizes that there are three times fourteen generations, he challenges us to do some math. Fourteen is two sevens—and three fourteens is six sevens. Is this an invitation to compare the six days of creation (in Genesis) to the six periods of seven generations (in Matthew)? After six days of preparation, God created mankind and rested gloriously from his work. But now, after six times seven generations of preparation, the Lord brought into the world his Anointed, to bring glorious rest and peace. One thing is clear. The coming of Jesus Christ is no less glorious, no less significant, than the very work of creation itself. The gospel of Matthew outshines the old book of Genesis. In Jesus Christ we see a new creation, of gracious activity and kingdom teaching, and of a church, of people worldwide chosen unto eternal life, in the way of faith. Matthew makes his point with a list of names. In our situation, this may not be our first choice as a tool for evangelism and gospel proclamation. But let us at least take this cue from Matthew: we must speak of Jesus Christ in the highest possible terms, as the fulfillment of all God’s promises, as the king of the whole world, as the beginning of a new creation.

The other day the song “Mary Did You Know?” came on the radio. Someone in the car remarked, “Uh oh, Dan doesn’t like this song.” True, I had mentioned my dislike of it before. And I’m sure some of you have “liked” the meme with Batman correcting Robin, saying, “Of course she did!” with an appeal to Luke 1. But recently I had been studying the unfolding recognition of Jesus’ sonship in the opening chapters of Luke and it led me to retract my “like” of that meme. For example, if she did know, why does she not understand Jesus’ declaration of his sonship after she finds him in the temple: “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” Luke directly comments that she and Joseph did not understand the saying that he spoke to them (2:49-50). But there is much more to it than this. In this article we’ll explore the unfolding epiphany of Jesus’ sonship in Luke’s gospel.

Narratives of Beginnings

Luke utilizes what Malcolm Wren terms “narratives of beginnings” (annunciations, nativities, epiphanies) to give substance to the idea of sonship in his gospel.[1] Since Luke is not writing a theological treatise or dogmatic handbook, but recounting the dramatic, once-for-all work of Jesus Christ in history, substance and meaning is embedded within the narrative’s movement. In other words, Luke communicates and creates meaning through stories. Following the preface to his work (1:1-4), Luke transports the reader to the heartbeat of Jewish life: the temple in Jerusalem.[2] It’s here Luke begins his gospel story. Significantly, temple-centered life had been the norm for the Jewish people for hundreds of years, conjuring up thoughts of the Solomonic temple and even its forerunner, the tabernacle. What Luke is doing, then, is rooting “his narrative in the past, the antecedents, out of which will emerge something new.”[3] This “new thing” will be taken up as the subject matter of the book. But what will be unpacked is not novel or dropped out of the sky, but the deep-rooted, ancient promises of Israel organically sprouting into fulfillment—something new. Furthermore, this “new thing” will drive the shift that Luke-Acts is concerned with from the Temple in Jerusalem to Judea to Samaria and to the end of the earth (Acts 1:8). “Thus at the very beginning of the Gospel Luke sets up a tension between continuity and discontinuity—a tension which will form the basis of his concept of Jesus as ‘Son of God.’ These opening stories of annunciation embody this very tension.”[4] From this observation, both a literary and conceptual function becomes evident in these early narratives that complement one another. The first is to “established antecedents” and the second is to “initiate narrative.”[5]

Continuity: Established Antecedents 

The most obvious way that Luke establishes antecedents is by alluding heavily to Old Testament passages such as Isaiah 6 in the annunciation to Zechariah or 1 Samuel 2:1-10 in the Magnificat. In addition, Luke taps into the redemptive-historical vein of a barren couple being visited by God (think Abraham and Sarah). Wren comments, “The effect of such conscious parallels and echoes is to create in the reader an orientation within an established pattern, to establish a set of expectation of what is possible or likely to happen within a certain context.”[6] The events that unfold fit the pattern of how God has acted and dealt with his people in the past. Of particular interest to Jesus’ birth narrative is its continuation with God’s dealings with Israel in terms of the Davidic covenant: Jesus’ legal father, Joseph, is “of the house and lineage of David” (2:4). This theme of continuity and tapping into established antecedents “is never rejected in the Lukan concept of Jesus as Son of God, despite the overwhelming stress placed on discontinuity.”[7]

Discontinuity: Initiated Narrative 

Along with establishing antecedents, Luke also employs these early narratives to initiate narrative. While there is strong continuity and deep-rootedness, there is just as strong a sense of discontinuity and novelty.[8] Luke brings this out by juxtaposing and paralleling the birth narratives of John and Jesus. The fact that both are given great (even eschatological) expectations, yet have a spatial (temple; Nazareth) and temporal (in the sixth month) difference, creates expectations and anticipations in the reader. How will these two significant births come together? What is the relationship between these two births? Can one have significance without the other?[9] “Just as in Acts, Luke presents the significance of Christ in terms of a ‘ripple-effect’ going out from Jerusalem to Rome, so in the Gospel he uncovers layers of meaning as the narrative grows out of its initial beginning.”[10]

Intrusions and Interruptions

To begin looking more closely at the opening narrative, it is important to note that these are stories of intrusion or initiation. The opening air breathes with routine, men and women simply going through the motions of old covenant life. For example, the gospel does not pick up the story with Zechariah in a state of crisis or despair, pleading with the Lord on his knees, but simply carrying out his prescribed duties as a priest in the temple. Yet this ritual, which was carried out many times before, is interrupted by the appearance of an angel. Likewise, Elizabeth is beyond the age of child birth, but she miraculously conceives; and Mary is betrothed to Joseph—an exciting though routine future for a young girl—but she too conceives in a supernatural way. Furthermore, the shepherds later on are doing what they have always done, keeping watch over their flock by night, but now the angel of the Lord cracks the darkness with a glorious light that brings good news and demands of them new actions. By these intrusions and interruptions Luke accentuates the impotency of the current life of God’s people, on the one hand, and the need for God to intervene and break through for that “new thing,” which was promised, to be fulfilled. In other words, the promises that are organically connected to the old covenant are incapable of coming to pass from below and within the system itself. So while it was good for Zechariah to be serving in the temple and for Mary to be betrothed and the shepherds to be watching their sheep, this was not the ultimate, eschatological picture of what God has promised. And for that to come about, God must intervene, he himself must enter the picture from above. While what is to come has antecedents, it is still a new age that is about to dawn that will alter the way of life and demand new things for the people of faith. In fact, the angel Gabriel, himself an eschatological figure in the book of Daniel (9:20-27), is the one who does the interrupting on God’s behalf, and John is expected to fulfill the eschatological role of Elijah, calling fathers to understand their children (cf. Mal. 4:6). Wren writes, “The emphasis is on the need of the old to beware the impact of the arrival of the new.”[11] Zechariah’s son will not take a patronym, but will be called John. “He will not be a conventional elder son who walks in his father’s footsteps; sonship in his case is a matter of discontinuity.”[12] There is a similar emphasis on sonship when we come to the birth narrative of Jesus. The two narratives are clearly set in parallel with each other, sharing the same basic features. But the child to be born to Mary will not be through natural sexual relations, but God’s creative power (ὅτι οὐκ ἀδυνατήσει παρὰ τοῦ θεοῦ πᾶν ῥῆμα, 1:37). This child will be the result of God’s supernatural involvement with the creation to bring about something new.

Unfolding Epiphany 

Wren points out that the narrative does not only weave together the motifs of continuity and discontinuity to give substance to the concept of sonship, but also adds another dimension, namely, the idea of unfolding epiphany.[13] This theme emerges by analyzing the narrative flow of Luke 1-4. The reader is privileged right from the very beginning of Luke’s gospel. He is brought into the temple with Zechariah to listen into an otherwise private conversation that the people outside know nothing about. Zechariah leaving the temple unable to speak also contributes to the reader’s privilege in that they know not only what has happened, but what will happen, while the people are left in the dark (though of course they can perceive that something happened because of Zechariah’s muteness). Elizabeth is then let in on the secret, to which she rejoices for it removes her disgrace; yet, she hides away, which seems contradictory. “This unexpected response serves as a literary device to maintain the reader’s interest and anticipation of the outcome … but primarily reinforces the sense of secrecy. The way in which knowledge of what God is doing spreads on earth is presented as a very tightly controlled process.”[14] Mary becomes the first outsider to learn of the birth of John toward the ends of her own annunciation story. This story presents an ever greater mystery than the previous. In fact, “the rest of Luke’s gospel will be concerned with the implications of what it is to know this mystery.”[15] Naturally then the Luke moves into scenes that draw out these implications. If Luke is concerned with the unfolding epiphany of this mystery, who will be the first to recognize it? When Mary visits Elizabeth (1:39-56), we learn that the very first person on earth to recognize the presence of the “Son of God” (1:35) is John while he is still in the womb, leaping.[16] John’s kick leads Elizabeth to cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb!” (1:42; cf. 11:27, which suggests a notion of misunderstanding). Luke will emphasize the point that it is those who think they recognize the significance of Jesus who are the ones who are actually mistaken.[17] Following the visitation is Mary’s Magnificat, which “forms the ideal conclusion of this recognition/epiphany scene, with its insistent use of the past tense.”[18] As Mary expresses, God’s salvation is not something that Jesus will embark upon later in his life, but, in a sense, his very conception is God’s act of salvation for his people. It is this simple, yet profound point that the rest of the story will be devoted to in terms of increasing recognition or non-recognition of it. Thus the first three episodes (Annunciation to Zechariah, Annunciation to Mary, and Visitation with Recognition) can be understood as the first of a three part cycle. It can be understood as such because Luke will recapitulate the sequence of events, as seen in the following chart:[19]

With Zechariah now being able to speak and the breaking with the past in naming the child “John,” all throughout the hill country of Judea sprang up the question, “What then will this child be?” (1:66). The answer comes in the Benedictus (1:67-79), which reveals high expectations for this child. Like the previous scene of the annunciation of John’s birth, this section ends with a withdrawal. This time, however, it is not Elizabeth, but John who remains in the wilderness until the day of his public appearance (1:80). As in the first cycle, the scene shifts again from John to Jesus (2:1-21). He is introduced with a markedly Gentile dating. This contrasts with John’s dating which is markedly Jewish (1:5), thus highlighting the notion of discontinuity involved in Jesus’ sonship compared to that of John. However, a note of continuity is also struck as it is revealed to shepherds in the city of David of the significance of the birth of a child “of the house and lineage of David,” “a Savior, who is Christ the Lord” (2:4, 11). There is even a secrecy about Jesus’ birth since it did not take place in the inn, with its meaning first being revealed to the shepherds who then made what they had been told by the angel known (2:17). “But the effect of their story is ‘wonder’ rather than comprehension.”[20] Similar to the first cycle, the second climaxes in a recognition or epiphany narrative, but this time in the temple and two accounts are given: one of Simeon, the other of Anna. Simeon is a true elder of Israel and Anna a prophetess, emphasizing continuity with the past.[21] However, their words also get at a strong sense of discontinuity and newness. The Nunc Dimittis and Anna’s prophecy “reveal Jesus as Son in both senses—he both fulfills the hope of Israel and shatters the bounds of Israel as a ‘light to lighten the Gentiles.’”[22] And the recognition by the teachers of the temple, along with their astonishment at him, leads into a dialogue between Mary and her son. At the heart of their discussion lies this question: Whose son is this really? Mary thinks that an obedient son would not have treated his mother and father like this. But Jesus, picking up on Mary’s use of the word father, speaks his first recorded words in Luke, providing illumination on the concept of his own sonship, saying, “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” (2:49). But Mary and Joseph do not understand Jesus’ saying. Wren makes this interesting point, “Mary has conceived a son in accepting the word (rhema) of the angel. She now fails to understand the saying (rhema) of her son when he speaks of the nature of his sonship.”[23] The third part of this second cycle ends like the first with the withdrawal of Mary with her son to their home in Nazareth (2:51), and ushers in the third cycle:

Without going into the detail of this third cycle, it is worth pointing out that Jesus’ baptism narrative (3:21-22) is “interested primarily in revealing the novelty and distinctiveness in Jesus’ sonship.”[24] Wren sees this literary reading providing support for the minority reading of 3:22, which lines up with Psalm 2:7 (LXX), “You are my beloved Son; today I have begotten you.” According to Wren, this is more consistent with Luke’s emphasis on discontinuity and it is the only reading that makes sense of Luke’s placing of the genealogy immediately afterwards. He writes, “‘Today I have begotten thee’ thus leads into a statement that on that particular day of his begetting he was about thirty years old, being the (supposed) son of Joseph, son of Heli, etc.”[25] In chapter 3, Luke raises the question: What is the Son of God? And the final section of this third cycle, Jesus’ wilderness temptations (4:1-13), provides interpretive commentary on the Father’s declaration, “You are my beloved Son.” Satan attacks with three murderous questions, with the first and last beginning with the phrase: “If you are the Son of God…” With Jesus, the reader is forced to ask the question: What does it mean to be the Son of God? What is involved in being the Son of God? Does he turn stones into bread or throw himself down from the pinnacle of the temple? Jesus’ ministry that will follow his temptations, presents the process of his revealing what he here discovers the meaning of his sonship to be.[26] This concluding recognition narrative of the third cycle can now initiate Jesus’ public ministry in the subsequent chapters. Wren insightfully writes,

It is a story about the home in which he has grown up and about the first proclamation of the nature of the home which will dominate the rest of Luke-Acts: the Kingdom of God. Jesus, “in the house of his fathers”, causes offence by speaking of the universality of the kingdom, the house of his father. He reveals that in fulfilling past experiences the Son of God will inevitably shatter current securities. In revealing the nature of the kingdom in this way he sets the pattern for its acceptance ‘away from home’. Those closest to Jesus reject the message; it therefore goes to those who “have not”.[27]

The story will meet another turning point when Jesus later sets his face to go to Jerusalem (9:51). From then on it is a story of Jesus, the Son of God, coming home. This will however, involve rejection and alienation instead of a traditional warm welcome. “Yet it is within this very alienation, at the heart of a recognition of the mystery of a son of God whose rule consists of service, whose welcome consists of a trial and whose majesty reigns from a cross, that Jesus is shown to fulfill the deepest aspirations of the children of God.”[28]

[1] “The birth narrative initiates the Gospel’s concern with Jesus’ identity as God’s Son” (Green, “Luke, Gospel of,” 543). [2] Cf. Ron C. Fay, “The Narrative Function of the Temple in Luke-Acts,” Trinity Journal 27/2 (Fall 2006), 255-70. [3] Malcolm Wren, “Sonship in Luke: The Advantage of a Literary Approach,” Scottish Journal of Theology 37, no. 3 (1984), 302. [4] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 302. [5] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 302. [6] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 302. [7] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 303. [8] Cf. Charles H. Talbert, Reading Luke: A Literary and Theological Commentary (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys Publishing, 2002), 19. [9] David Wenham writes, “God is fulfilling his promises for salvation—through John the Baptist in a preparatory way (1:16, 17), but specifically through Jesus—as the promised Messiah and Son of David, as the one remembering his mercy to Israel ‘as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham’ (so Mary in 1:54, 55). Most explicit is Zechariah’s prophetic hymn in 2:68-73, where Jesus is related to David, to the prophets and to Abraham” (“The Purpose of Luke-Acts: Israel’s Story in the Context of the Roman Empire,” in Reading Luke: Interpretation, Reflection, Formation, Scripture and Hermeneutics Series [Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2005], 88). [10] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 303. [11] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 304. [12] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 304. [13] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 305; Tannehill develops a similar thought in his article “What Kind of King? What Kind of Kingdom. A Study of Luke.” [14] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 305. [15] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 305. [16] Robert L. Broline Jr., “The Meeting of Mary and Elizabeth: An Eschatological Encounter,” Kerux 17/3 (Dec. 2002), 32-48. [17] Cf. Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 306. [18] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 306. [19] The following chart is adapted from Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 306. For a similar proposed structure see James L. Boyce, “For You Today a Savior: The Lukan Infancy Narrative,” Word & World Vol. 27, Num. 4 (Fall 2007), 375-77. Boyce also makes the point that at the center of each of these segments stands a hymn or poetic refrain. [20] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 307. [21] Wren notes they “could also be seen as stigmatized, old and barren people” (“Sonship in Luke,” 307). [22] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 307; “The point is clear: Jesus is one who is bringing the consolation of Israel, the redemption of Jerusalem. The background to this is the prophetic hope for God’s redemption of Israel: both Simeon and Anna echo the promises of Isaiah 52 about God bringing Israel out from Exile (cf. Lk. 2:31 with Is. 52:10, and Lk. 2:38 with Is. 52:9)” (Wenham, “The Purpose of Luke-Acts,” 87). [23] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 308. [24] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 309. This may be why Luke does not record John actually baptizing Jesus as Matthew (3:13-17) and Mark (1:9-11) do. By not recording this he stresses the discontinuity and newness that comes in Jesus, juxtaposed with John. [25] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 309. [26] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 310. [27] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 310. [28] Wren, “Sonship in Luke,” 310-11.

So often we read events in Jesus’ life as mere examples from which we can draw principles for common experiences, rather than as once-for-all accomplishments that he underwent in our place and as our representative. In other words, we tend to read Jesus’ actions in a sort of W.W.J.D. framework, instead of as gospel news with Jesus standing and succeeding where we have fallen and failed. No gospel story demonstrates this better than Jesus’ wilderness temptations (Lk. 4:1-13). Did Luke include this story because he primarily wanted us to know certain principles on how to stand up against temptation in our own lives? Or does Luke want to tell us something about the once-for-all accomplishment of Jesus as our representative? Let’s take a look at Luke’s account and the content leading up to it to see why we should affirm the latter. Did you ever find it peculiar that between Jesus’ baptism (Lk. 3:21-22) and the temptation narrative (Lk. 4:1-13) Luke decides to insert a genealogy that traces Jesus’ ancestry all the way back to Adam? While it might seem random at first and we may want to just skip over it, it’s actually playing an important role in disclosing to us Jesus’ identity before he is led by the Spirit in the wilderness. At Jesus’ baptism the voice of the Father breaks out from heaven, saying, “You are my beloved Son…” (3:22). Jesus’ identity, then, consists of him being the Son of God. When we hear this title being attributed to Jesus we immediately want to see it as a claim to his divinity: he is the Second Person of the Trinity eternally begotten of the Father (which would be correct). But Luke wants us to see something more about this title, and that’s where the genealogy comes into play. Notice that when Luke comes to the end of it he says, “the son of Adam, the son of God.” Adam was considered also to have held the title “son of God.” Why? Because he was created in the image of God (Gen. 1:27) and was, therefore, tasked with ruling over the created order as his representative and extending the bounds of the garden until they encompassed the whole earth (Gen. 1:28). That the one formed in the image of God is the son of God is confirmed in Gen. 5:1-3. There we again read that “God made [man] in the likeness of God.” Right after this we read, “[Adam] fathered a son in his own likeness, after his image, and named him Seth.” Because sonship and likeness go hand-in-hand, Adam was the son of God. So what does this mean for understanding Jesus’ identity in Luke as he heads into the wilderness? It means that Jesus heads into the wilderness as the second and last Adam (see 1 Cor. 15:45). In the Garden, Adam had represented all of mankind, so that when he fell, he brought with him all of his posterity. That’s the big point of Romans 5:12-21. Adam was the federal head of all of mankind, so that his actions affected the rest of us. As Paul says, “[Adam’s] one trespass led to condemnation for all men” (Rom. 5:18). Jesus, then, emerges on the scene as the representative of a new humanity, the federal head of the elect people of God. And this means that Jesus is going to have to stand where Adam fell, if he is to secure for us “justification and life” (Rom. 5:18). Luke wants us to see that the wilderness temptation is nothing less than a re-run of Eden. As the serpent launched his fiery arrows at Eve with her husband standing by, tempting her to doubt the goodness of God and his word, so he is at it again with Jesus, the son of God. But unlike Adam and Eve who, with full stomachs, were surrounded by a luscious garden, Jesus is to endure the trial in a barren wilderness having fasted now for forty days. The serpent had infiltrated the domain where Adam was to reign as God’s representative, but now Jesus wages a counterattack by infiltrating the domain of Satan. He has entered the house of the strongman to bind him, so that he might plunder his goods and reclaim those whom he has taken captive. Jesus undergoes all of this not merely to provide us with principles to overcome temptation in our lives, but as our representative. That is the good news of the gospel: Jesus has stood where I have fallen; he has resisted the lies of the devil where I have been deceived and so has obtained for me salvation. The story is not ultimately about what I need to do, but about what Christ has done for me, in my place, and on my behalf! Christ has stood in my place with his unwavering commitment and trust in God’s word. In him the truth of God triumphs over against the deceptive lies of the evil one. It is because of this I can have confidence that when temptations array themselves directly against me, when I feel doubt regarding God’s promises rising up in me, I can stand in the power of the Spirit of Christ against them and continue to trust God’s word. When the devil accuses me, I can appeal to Christ who has succeeded as my substitute and who has brought his heel down upon the serpent, so that he must limp away in defeat, until his final execution. For a rich biblical-theological discussion of the son of God title from Luke 3-4 listen to Dr. Lane Tipton’s address from our 2015 Theology Conference. Also, consider attending this years conference on October 7-9, which will be on the image of God. The early bird rate ends on August 15.

Someone once said, “There is nothing new under the sun.” It is a truth acknowledged but often forgotten. Have you ever been in a conversation when someone acted as though postmodernism was a new problem faced by the church? That is what I mean. So, I am writing this article as a reminder. We need to keep our wits about us. In part, that means remembering Solomon’s dictum, “There is nothing new under the sun” and taking it seriously. Let me give you an example that fits the season. Take N. T. Wright for instance, who understands the atoning death of Jesus and his self-identification with Israel in metaphorical terms.[1] As such, on the cross Jesus thought of himself as taking on himself “the direct consequences…of the…failure and sin of Israel.”[2] In other words, according to Wright, Jesus was literally shouldering the direct result of political, social, personal, moral, and emotional manifestations of evil and he saw himself doing it metaphorically for the nation of Israel.[3] And of course, Wright contends that Jesus didn’t do these things for Israel alone. Wright maintains that Jesus “is Israel’s and the world’s representative” such that “he can stand in for all.”[4] Now, do you see what that does? It reduces the wrath of God to the details of history. So, Pilate’s failure to render justice, the religious leader’s failure to see Jesus as the Messiah, the crowd’s willingness to be swayed should all be interpreted as the wrath of God. Now, let me be clear, there is a sense in which this is true. It’s true but it’s incomplete. The penal substitutionary death of Christ taught in Scripture has a dimension of truly unimaginable distress making every other painful aspect of Christ’s death pale by comparison. What am I talking about? I’m talking about the suffering of Christ in the text that does not come from Pilate and a corrupt legal system, societal sins and moral failures, or from the corruption of religion. I’m talking about the suffering that came as a result of Christ being our sin bearer before God. In the prophesy of Isaiah, the divinely inspired prophet explains what happens when sin comes between God and man. He says, “But your iniquities have made a separation between you and your God, and your sins have hidden His face from you so that He does not hear.”[5] Now, with that in mind think of Matthew 27:45. It says that darkness fell over the face of the land from the sixth to the ninth hour. In other words, from noon to 3 PM darkness canvassed the land and then, at 3 O’clock Christ cried out with a loud voice, “’Eli, Eli, Lama Sabachthani?’ which is translated, ‘My God, My God. Why have you forsaken Me?’” His cry is one of dereliction. The divinely loved Son, who could never lose the favor of God, has a sense of abandonment in His mediatorial office. This is the very thing denied today. “Oh, of course not,” say Wright and folks like him. They might continue saying, “Christ did feel abandonment but he felt it precisely because of the political, societal, and religious isolation which had placed him on the cross.” Now, I need to be honest. I’m not buying their theological wares. But again, they might say, “If you deny what we are saying, how do you understand his cry of dereliction without falling into abstraction?” Now, at this point it is important to listen to a voice from the past that reminds us that there is nothing new under the sun. Listen to Calvin’s comments on these very words from the Gospel. He says,

And certainly this [his cry of having been forsaken] was his chief conflict, and harder than all the other tortures, that in his anguish he was so far from being soothed by the assistance or favour of his Father, that he felt himself to be in some measure estranged from him. For not only did he offer his body as the price of our reconciliation with God, but in his soul also he endured the punishments due to us; and thus he became, as Isaiah speaks, a man of sorrows. Those interpreters are widely mistaken who, laying aside this part of redemption, attend solely to the outward punishment of the flesh; for in order that Christ might satisfy for us, it was necessary that he should be placed as a guilty person at the judgement seat of God.”

In the Institutes he’s even more emphatic, “If Christ had died only a bodily death, it would have been ineffectual.”[6] Did you hear that? If the suffering of Christ is simply a bodily death due to political, social, and moral forces, then as a sacrifice for sins it would have been ineffectual. Brothers and sisters, there is nothing new under the sun. Solomon’s dictum reminds us of another, “Read at least one old book for every new book that you read.” But my reason for writing this article goes far beyond a simple desire to help us to see that what is propounded as new is really not new at all. My reason has more to do with the very nature of Christ’s work. And Rabbi Duncan said it simply and said it best. He asked his class, “Do you know what Calvary was? What? What? What? ” With tears in his eyes, he said, “It was damnation; and Christ took it lovingly.” The nature of Christ’s worst suffering was damnation and he took it for me. [1] Wright, Evil and the Justice of God, (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2006), 86. [2] Ibid. [3] Ibid. [4] Ibid., 95. [5] Isaiah, 59:2. [6] Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 2.16.10.

Jesus’ miracles are windows into God’s grand story of redemption. They confirm God’s message and demonstrate his power in the world and purpose in redemption. In this episode, Dr. Vern Poythress speaks with us about his book The Miracles of Jesus: How the Savior’s Mighty Acts Serve as Signs of Redemption (Crossway). Poythress serves as professor of New Testament interpretation at Westminster Theological Seminary. For the opensource-minded, you can also download this episode in .ogg format.

Participants: Camden Bucey, Jim Cassidy, Vern Poythress

Many people are discussing the big news of a potential first century manuscript of Mark. Denny Burk posted a summary of the news on his site. Such a finding could have big implications, but the news may not be as decisive as some would lead us to believe. P.J. Williams explains a few things on that end.

Dr. Lane G. Tipton lays a foundation of covenant history through the story of three sons: Adam the protological son of God, Israel the typological, and Jesus the eschatological. Dr. Tipton opens Luke 4 to demonstrate the pattern of covenant law and obedience woven throughout the experience of each son.

Unedited and Unprocessed Recording of the Livestream

Participants: Lane G. Tipton

Drs. Michael J. Kruger and Charles E. Hill speak about a book to which Dr. Hill contributed, How God Became Jesus: The Real Origins of Belief in Jesus’ Divine Nature, a response to Bart D. Ehrman’s How Jesus Became God: The Exaltation of a Jewish Preacher from Galilee. The thesis of Dr. Ehrman’s book is that the doctrine of Jesus’ divinity was an early accretion onto the original truth of Jesus identity – neither Jesus nor Jesus’ disciples believed he was divine. How God Became Jesus is the first book-length response to Ehrman’s latest, and includes a contribution by Dr. Chuck Hill. Their thesis is that Jesus and his disciples rightly believed him to be divine, and that the later formulations of this doctrine reflected that early and accurate tradition. Dr. Charles Hill is John R. Richardson Professor of New Testament and Early Christianity at Reformed Theological Seminary, Orlando, Florida. His most recent publications include Who Chose the Gospels? Probing the Great Gospel Conspiracy (Oxford University Press, 2010) and The Early Text of the New Testament (Oxford University Press, 2012), edited with Dr. Kruger. He contributed to How God Became Jesus, which also features contributions by Michael Bird, Craig Evans, Simon Gathercole, and Chris Tilling. Dr. Michael Kruger is President and Professor of New Testament at Reformed Theological Seminary in Charlotte, NC. He received his Ph.D. from New College, The University of Edinburgh, Scotland. He is the author of Canon Revisited: Establishing the Origins and Authority of the New Testament Books (Crossway, 2012), The Early Text of the New Testament (Oxford, 2012; edited with Dr. Hill), and The Question of Canon (Intervarsity, 2013). Dr. Kruger has spoken on Christ the Center episodes 217 and 283 and 318.

Participants: Camden Bucey, Charles Hill, Jared Oliphint, Michael Kruger