Word Up!

            Since the end of January, I've been writing about how human beings wrote the words of Scripture as well as how they compiled and canonized those texts. Most people, I think, are aware of this reality; they recognize that the Bible didn't just drop from Heaven. Yet for some, there's still something a little unnerving about the human origins of something considered so sacred. How can we say this is the "Word of God" when clearly humans were generating and sanctioning these texts?

            To approach this, I must appeal to the Vatican II document, Dei Verbum. In 1965, the Church officially put forth this document (a.k.a. The Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation) which explains the Church's long held – and sometimes not so well clarified – understanding of Sacred Scripture and Tradition. It asserts that the Scriptures "have God as their author" but that "in composing the sacred Books, God chose and employed certain men, who, while engaged in this task, made full use of their faculties and powers..." (DV, paragraph 11). Now I'll admit, that does sound rather convenient to simply say, 'well God is still the author, but he used men kind of like scribes to get his message across.' If that was the case, you'd think the Scriptures wouldn't have so many embarrassingly violent laws, prophecies, and stories in them. But that isn't what Dei Verbum is getting at. The Scriptures were inspired, yes, but I don't think it means the human authors had the Holy Spirit whispering to them the exact words to write.

            One of the first things I think we need to understand is that God's Word is more encompassing than mere words on a page. God's Word is powerful. Consider that in ancient times when a king spoke, his word alone had the power to effect change. The king spoke, and schtuff got done. Sure, maybe the action was carried out by other people, but it was only because the king said it – as Pharaoh iconically says in the movie, The Ten Commandments:  "So let it be written. So let it be done." Likewise God speaks, and schtuff happens: "'Let there be light.' And there was light" (Genesis 1:3). God's Word is effective and creative! As it says in Isaiah: "Yet just as from the heavens the rain and snow come down and do not return there till they have watered the earth... So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; It shall not return to me empty, but shall do what pleases me, achieving the end for which I sent it" (Isaiah 55:10-11).

            Interestingly enough, I find that urban and prison slang has a better sense of the term "word" for our purposes today. In such contexts word can mean an "affirmation" (yep, mm-hmm, I agree), "approval," "truth," or "to speak the truth."[1] For example:

Me: That moment when Edith finally tells off Mary on Downton Abbey was priceless!

Fellow D.A. Enthusiast: Word!

            I would put a link to UrbanDictionary.com, so you can get an even better sense of the slang usage of "word," but there's some inappropriate language on that page, and I wouldn't want to scandalize my mother who I'm sure is reading this right now. (Hi, Mom!) You can type in the web address and can check it out at your own risk if you want, or just take my word for it. (No pun intended.)

            The point, however, is that 90s urban slang has its finger on the pulse of what "word" in the biblical sense is about, because in both cases it means more than just human language. From the perspective of Urban Dictionary, God's Word is like a resounding "Yes!" permeating all that is – "God looked at everything he had made, and found it very good" (Gen 1:31). God's Word is Truth. God's Word is positive. God's Word is living!

from www.worldofdtcmarketing.com

            Both the Greek and Hebrew terms for "word" have multiple meanings. The Greek word, logos – from where we get our word logic – can mean a lot of things: "reason," "divine utterance," or an "expression of a thought" being some of them.[2] Likewise, the Hebrew word dabar can mean a matter, event, or affair and also has a connection to reason.[3] God's Word isn't just the words that God speaks or those written down in Scripture; it's all of the reason, truth, thoughts, and ideas that are behind and communicated through those words. God's Word is God's self-communication! And what Dei Verbum is saying is that God used human beings, in a particular time and place, and of a particular culture with its own limited language, to communicate God's self in the Sacred Scriptures.

            Admittedly though, the fact that human beings were so closely involved in the process of divine revelation might drive some people nuts. With so much human particularity how can the scriptures communicate such an ultimate and universal message like the Word of God? But then – oh, and I just love this – this is precisely what happens in the incarnation, for Jesus is the Word made flesh (i.e. the Incarnate Word)! Jesus Christ is God revealed to us in a particular and limited time (early first century CE), place (Palestine), culture (Palestinian Jewish), gender (male), and age (I don't think Jesus lived much beyond his early thirties).

            One of the greatest and most delectable mysteries of the incarnation is that the infiniteness and universality of God was willingly emptied and made limited in time and space in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. Who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness... (Philippians 2:6-7a). So just as Jesus is God's self revealed in a human way (in weakness and with limitations), so too the Scriptures are divine revelation communicated in limited human language and culture. Or, as Dei Verbum so beautifully puts it, "For the words of God, expressed in human language, have become like unto human speech, just as the Word of the eternal Father, when he took on himself the flesh of human weakness, became like unto human beings" (DV, paragraph 13).

St. Francis in Prayer Before the Crucifix, El Greco, 1585-1590

            By the way, as a Franciscan and a graduate of the University of the Incarnate Word, incarnational spirituality is a particular fancy of mine almost by default.

Chapel of the Incarnate Word at UIW. Go Cardinals!

            I guess the bottom line of what I'm getting at is that God's word is fleshy business, and the Word of God is revealed to us in two very human ways: obviously in the human person of Jesus, but also in the very human language and culture of Sacred Scripture. Either way, though, the word of God is more than the words on a page. It is living, and God wants to write it on our hearts. As a biblical studies nerd, I am fascinated by all of the humanness of Sacred Scripture, and I'm eager to learn more about its historical, anthropological, and literary context. Yet for all of its human qualities and limitations, I do not criticize it as irrelevant or even dated. I know that the Word of the Lord continues to speak the Truth; It continues to reveal God's self. But in order to listen to it, I must look upon and accept the human face of Scripture, and, likewise, I must look to the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, who is the human face of God.

            I know that this week is Holy Week and that it would be all the more appropriate to recommend to you readings from the Passion or Resurrection narratives of the Gospels.* So, if you have the time, by all means please sit with those passages! Of course, I also recommend attending the liturgies of Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter where you will also hear those readings. However, it makes sense, given today's topic of word, to read John 1:1-18. Yes, I agree, this reading seems out of place for Holy Week, but whatever. I've got to run with the inspiration I'm given. It's a short passage, but as you read it meditate for just a bit on that profound mystery of the very Word of God becoming flesh. Consider how God spoke through the Law and Prophets, yet finally in Jesus was fully revealed. Consider also how Jesus fulfills the Scriptures and is the very lens for interpreting them. Contemplate, especially as we enter deeply into the sacred mysteries of Christ's passion, death, and resurrection – what we call the Paschal Mystery – how these events in the life of Christ reveal God's grace, truth, and glory.

            As always, I welcome questions and comments on Facebook, Twitter, e-mail (biblecodega.gmail.com), or in the comment box below. I pray that you all enjoy these high holy days of the Christian calendar and have a blessed Easter. I leave you today with the words of St. Paul to the Thessalonians for you to consider the next time you hear the lector at Mass say, "The Word of the Lord."

           "We too give thanks to God unceasingly, that, in receiving the word of God from hearing us, you received not a human word but, as it truly is, the word of God, which is now at work in you who believe" (1 Thessalonians 2:13).

Word!

* Passion and Resurrection Narratives:

Matthew 26:1-28:20

Mark 14:12-16:20

Luke 22:1-24:53

John 18:1-21:25

---

[1] Urban Dictionary, "Word," last modified October 14, 2005, accessed March 20, 2016. http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Word.

[2] Bible Hub, "3056. Logos," accessed March 20, 2016, http://biblehub.com/greek/3056.htm.

[3] Bible Hub, "1697. Dabar," accessed March 20, 2016, http://biblehub.com/hebrew/1697.htm.

Making the Cut: Where did the Bible come from? Part V

            Two weeks ago I wrote up a whirlwind tour of the books of the New Testament (NT) and just barely scratched the surface of who wrote these texts and when. The big question that has often been asked of me, though, is Who decided what got in? How did these 27 books become the NT? I'll be honest, the answer to these and similar questions is complex, but, since I'm ready to move on from this "Where did the Bible come from?" series, I'll try to be as succinct as possible. (I hear a sigh of relief.)

            First, a couple of things to keep in mind:

1.) Faith in Jesus Christ preceded the writings of the NT.

2.) The Church, (i.e. the community of believers and followers of Christ) existed before the Christian Scriptures were composed.

3.) Most, if not all of the books of the NT were written for audiences that already believed that Jesus was the Christ – albeit, these audiences probably needed some theological clarification about their beliefs and how they should live, which is what prompted many of the NT writings to begin with.

            A fine example of some of the above points are the early Christian hymns and creedal statements that were incorporated into the Scriptures. If you take a look at Philippians 2:6-11 (one of my favorite passages in Scripture, by the way) you have what appears to be a hymn about Christ that was possibly used in community worship. What it says about Jesus is so fitting and true, that Paul integrates it into his letter to the Philippians. Whether it was sung or not is beside the point, but try to imagine this as a song, short and catchy enough for people to learn it and sing it by memory. Of course, memories were probably a lot more adept back then because people didn't have buttons, phones, and Google remembering everything for them. Thus a profound truth about Christ issued from the community of believers and was passed down orally through this lyrical poem before it ever became "Scripture" as we know it today. In effect, this Truth was handed down to believers through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit by means of *drum roll* Sacred Tradition.

GIF from www.yorehistory.wordpress.com

            The Catholic rebuttal to Martin Luther's insistence on "Scripture alone" is that both Scripture and Tradition "form one sacred deposit of the word of God, committed to the Church."[1] But what is Sacred Tradition anyway? Let me be quite clear that it is not customs or disciplines in the Church –like not eating meat on Fridays during Lent. Those things are "traditions" with a lower-case 't' and have little to do with essential beliefs and teachings of the Church. Just remember that if you accidently eat meat on Friday this Lent. Rather, Sacred Tradition is that "living transmission" of the word of God "accomplished in the Holy Spirit" through the Apostles and their successors, which "includes everything which contributes toward the holiness of life and increase in faith of the peoples of God."[2] Basically, it's the faith and Truth in which the Church believes that has been passed down orally by the Apostles and their successors.

            Why this lengthy – and somewhat boring – tangent about Sacred Tradition? (Bless you, by the way, if you're still reading.) It's because the composition of the NT and the selection of which books became canonized rests on this issue of Tradition. Sacred Scripture and Tradition are not opposed to or in competition with one another. That would be ridiculous! Rather the two inform and complement one another. Tradition is informed by the written Word, and Scripture was written as a result of oral transmissions of the faith and is interpreted in light of Tradition. It's like love and marriage... that go together like a horse and carriage. This I tell you brother: you can't have one without the other. Thank you Frank Sinatra.

            So as I mentioned in the last post, the earliest NT writings were the letters of Paul. Such writings, though some were intended for particular audiences, were shared among many other local church communities. Moreover, like the Torah and Prophets, which were obviously considered sacred by the early Church, these Christian writings were read aloud in liturgy when the community came together for worship. Likewise, the Gospels and the other NT writings were used in this way, and many of them were cited by leaders in the early Church in their own letters.

            According to Luke Timothy Johnson – without whose book, The Writings of the New Testament: An Interpretation, this post would not be possible (gotta give props where props are due, folks), "As writings were exchanged, local churches began to build collections that were more extensive than those written specifically to them."[3]  Eventually, local churches within the catholic (and by catholic I mean universal) Church had collections of Christian writings; some books of which were common to most local churches, but other books were favored by a minority. So while some of these collections agreed on certain books, like the letters of Paul, they differed on others.

            Surprisingly, however, evidence shows that within the early Church there was actually a great deal of agreement on which Christian writings were considered sacred. An early Latin document known as the Muratorian Fragment contains a list of canonical books that includes the four Gospels and Acts, the letters of Paul, the first two letters of John, the letter of Jude, and Revelation. While it leaves out some books from today's canon (3 John, 1 & 2 Peter, James, and Hebrews), it also included some books that are not in our NT: for example, the Apocalypse of Peter and the Shepherd of Hermas. (Ever hear of these books?) However, it concedes that the Shepherd of Hermas should not be read in worship, and it was debatable as to whether the Apocalypse of Peter should be or not.[4]

Image from http://www.bible-researcher.com/muratorian.html

            In a roundabout way I have so far hinted at some of the criteria the early Church deferred to in the complex and lengthy process of selecting which Christian writings would be part of Scripture. Here are some of the standards that influenced the canonization process.

1.) Did it have apostolic historicity? Did it seem to derive from the apostles or at least those who knew them? Again, much like the books of the Jewish canon, the older a text was the more authority it carried. Books written too late would not make the cut.

2.) Did it conform to the tradition of faith that had been handed down to them? That is, did it reflect the faith they had come to believe and know to be true, or did it reflect a heretical teaching? Thus, my lengthy tangent about Sacred Tradition.

3.) Was it read publicly in liturgy? Or better yet, should it be read in liturgy? It seems like the Shepherd of Hermas was a popular, early Christian text and not a bad one to read, but it apparently didn't have the authority to be read in church.

4.) Was it used widely among the universal Church, or was it only accepted or rejected by a handful of local churches?

5.) Did it have "universal pertinence"?[5] In other words, was it applicable to all of the Church in every place and in all times?

            I don't want to over-simplify this complex process of canonization. It is not like the early Church fathers got around a poker table with this list of criteria and a deck of potential NT books, folding if the text didn't meet enough standards and laying down royal flushes if it did. That would have been rather entertaining if it had been the case, though, I must say. And to that end I would love to see a tapestry much like the one of dogs playing poker with Athanasius, Irenaeus, Eusebius, and Origen seated around the table instead.* In any case, as the early Church discerned which books ought to be considered Scripture alongside those writings inherited from their Jewish ancestry, these standards were surely factors that guided this organic process of canonization.

It's not how it happened, but it's funny to imagine nonetheless

            It should be noted that not every book we have in the NT was readily agreed upon by every local church. There was much debate concerning the inclusion of the Book of Revelation (not surprisingly, as that book's trippy) and even some hesitancy around the Gospel of John. These books obviously made it in, but some were vehemently rejected. The Muratorian Fragment is adamant that certain letters attributed to Paul which actually derived from a heretic named Marcion as well as the Gnostic writings of Valentinus and Basilides should be not be accepted at all.[6] Early Church fathers like Eusebius, Irenaeus, and Athanasius all railed against writings considered heretical.

            How I would love to say a few things about the heresy of Gnosticism and its writings, but I'm running long as it is. I will say, however, that if you're wondering about such texts like the so-called Gospels of Peter, Mary Magdalene, or Judas, I will tell you straight up right now. Those and other such "gospels" were A.) not written by those to whom they were attributed, for, as I mentioned in my last post, writing under a different name was quite common back then. B.) These books were written much later than the NT writings, probably in the 2^nd and 3^rd centuries. And C.) they derived from heretical Gnostic beliefs and teachings that ran contrary to the orthodox Tradition that had been passed down in the early Church. I hope to devote a post to Gnosticism and their writings in the future, because it's a sick and twisted heretical movement, though admittedly quite fascinating, but let's just leave it there for now.

            So okay, some books were readily accepted, some debated, and some unequivocally nixed. At what point, then, did the early Church have a canonical list of the 27 books of the NT that we know and love today? In his Paschal Letter (367 CE) the bishop of Alexandria, St. Athanasius, includes those 27 books and even refers to them as the "springs of salvation."  In 397 the North African Council of Carthage decided on such a list that included those 27 and no more, stating that these "are to be read in church as divine Scripture." These 27 books for the most part went unchallenged until the Reformation of the 16^th century, but the Council of Trent in 1546, as well as the Church of England shortly thereafter, reaffirmed the authority and canonicity of these books.[7] 

          So there you have it. As I mentioned in the last post, the books of the NT were composed within about a hundred years after Jesus' death and resurrection. And then less than three hundred years after that it was pretty much decided which Christian Scriptures would be part of the biblical canon. Ain't that something?

            For this week, since much of this post had to do with the complementary nature of Sacred Scripture and Tradition, I suggest reading 2 Timothy 2:1-26 and 3:10-17. In these passages we hear Paul writing from prison to encourage one of his successors, Timothy, to remain steadfast to the Gospel he has preached and is now in chains for proclaiming. He urges him to resist false teaching but not to engage in useless and quarrelsome debates, correcting opponents instead with kindness. He affirms Timothy's life of faith, love, patience, and endurance in suffering and reminds him to remain faithful to what he has learned and what he knows from Scripture. As you read this passage, considered what you have come to know and believe from the faith that has been handed onto you. What do you know to be true – about God, Jesus Christ, life in the Spirit, our relationship with God and one another? How has it "trained you for righteousness," made you more loving, peaceful, patient, or less quarrelsome? How has it brought you into conflict, and how have you responded? What about the Christian faith and Gospel message challenges you, and how might you pray to God for perseverance?

            I will be taking another hiatus from blogging for the next couple of weeks in order to work on some other things for this project, but I greatly appreciate your readership and spreading the word about Bible Codega. It has been a tremendous help as I complete the practicum for my M.A. I still encourage questions and comments via e-mail, Facebook, Twitter, or the comment box below. And while I might not put up a new post for some time, I'll still be responding to questions. Until next time, may you have a blessed remainder of the Lenten season and happy reading of Scripture.

Peace and all good!

---

[1] Dei Verbum,  10 §1.

[2]  Catechism of the Catholic Church, 78. and Dei Verbum, 8 §1.

[3] Luke Timothy Johnson, The Writings of the New Testament: An Interpretation, Rev. ed. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1999), 597.

[4] Ibib., 600-601

[5] Johnson, 600.

[6] Ibid., 601.

[7] Ibid., 603.

* For the record, I'm pretty sure Athanasius, Irenaeus, Eusebius, and Origen were never even in the same room altogether.

A Tour of the New Testament: Where did the Bible come from? Part IV

            Aww yisss. Finally, the New Testament. I know... so far  I haven't written very much on that portion of the Bible which directly has to do with Jesus Christ. But in my defense, it takes awhile to get through the Hebrew Scriptures – the Old Testament is nearly four times as long as the New. Furthermore, its breadth of history and literary development spans over a thousand years. The New Testament (NT), on the other hand, was composed in probably less than a century. Compared to the Hebrew Scriptures, the Christian Scriptures look like a weekly newspaper, and, all things considered, the NT was literature in a hurry. But where did it come from?

            We can pretty much assume that Jesus' ministry, death, and resurrection probably took place sometime around the year 30 CE. But writings about Jesus did not come about immediately. After the resurrection, the followers of Christ began to spread the Good News of Christ orally, and the movement grew rapidly. I'm rather surprised it grew at all, considering its leader had just died a horrific execution, and it wasn't long before his followers were likewise persecuted. But as the 2^nd century Church father, Tertullian, says "The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church." How this religious movement not only survived but flourished in its first hundred years is a real testament to its credibility (pun absolutely intended).

            One of the persecutors of the early Church was a Pharisee named Saul of Tarsus, who was later more commonly known as Paul. As the story goes, he was on his way to Damascus to bring back to Jerusalem in chains any followers of the "the Way." The term Christian, by the way, had not been coined yet, and so they were simply called followers of the Way. Seeing a bright light, Saul fell to the ground. Then a voice spoke to him saying, "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?" Theologically, this is incredibly significant, for the risen Christ had identified himself to Saul with his followers and disciples whom Saul was persecuting. This close association of Christ with his followers (i.e. the Body of Christ, the Church) is central to St. Paul's writings. You can read about his conversion in several passages of the NT: Acts 9:1-19; Galatians1:12-19; 1 Timothy 1:12-14.

Parmigianino, The Conversion of St. Paul (1527-1528), Oil on Canvas

FYI, nowhere in the NT does it say Paul was riding a horse... Mr. Parmigianino.

            Paul became one of the most influential apostles of the early Church, spreading the Gospel (i.e. Good News) throughout the Mediterranean. He kept correspondence with the Christian communities which he either founded or had visited. Thus we have the letters of Paul to the Corinthians, or Thessalonians, or Galatians etc. These funny names simply refer to the church communities to whom he was writing in Corinth, Thessalonica, Galatia, and so on. I bring up Paul before mentioning the four Gospels because his letters (a.k.a. epistles) to these churches are probably the earliest of the NT Scriptures. His first letter to the Thessalonians was likely the earliest of his epistles that we have in Scripture, making it possibly the oldest of any of the NT writings.

            But things get kind of dicey from here. Scholars are pretty certain that Paul wrote the letters to the Galatians, Corinthians, Philippians, Philemon, Romans, and the first letter to the Thessalonians, but they are not so sure about 2 Thessalonians, Colossians, Ephesians, or the letters to Timothy and Titus. The letters that are undisputedly from Paul all had to have been composed before his death in the mid 60s CE. So dang, check that out... hardly 30 years after Jesus' death and resurrection and at least seven letters of the NT have already been composed!

            The dating of the disputed letters varies. Some fair arguments can be made that  2 Thessalonians and maybe even Colossians might very well have been written by Paul during his career. In any case, all of these disputed letters were most likely composed before the year 100 CE, the latest probably being the Pastoral Letters, 1 & 2 Timothy and Titus. If the disputed letters were not written by Paul himself, they were probably composed by his disciples or those who were in line with Pauline thought. Ephesians, for example, seems to have been written by one who was very good at summarizing and getting to the heart of Paul's theology.

            Should this bother us that Paul didn't write some of the letters we attribute to him? Not really. Here's the thing about writings in the ancient world. For one, people back then didn't have the kind of hang-ups we do today about academic honesty. Nowadays we have this neurotic, individualistic obsession with "intellectual property." It's abhorrent not to cite your sources, to plagiarize or forge, to attribute work to someone who didn't do it. (FYI, my last name is spelled B-r-e-m-a-r if you'd like to cite this post in your next term paper.)[1] But for the ancients, writing in someone else's name was not frowned upon like it is today. Back then, wisdom was a communal matter; it belonged to everyone, not to individuals. Secondly, wisdom derived from the past, not so much the present or future. Today our knowledge is oriented toward future prospects. We seek discoveries in technology and the sciences that will advance us even further into the future. Our ancestors of antiquity, however, believed that in order to understand the present and discern the future one needed to understand the past. Not surprisingly, elders were more respected back then than they are today.

            Given this kind of attitude toward wisdom and the past, putting a wise leader's name on your work doesn't seem to be that big of a deal. I only bring this up because there was a lot of pseudonymous literature (writings in another person's name) in the ancient world, and there are examples of it in both the Old and New Testaments, as well as many books which never made it into the Bible. Furthermore, this brings me to the four Gospels. Yay, everyone's favorite!

Not quite the Good News I'm talking about. Photo courtesy of www.patheos.com

            The first Gospel of the NT to have been written was the Gospel according to Mark. It was probably composed sometime around the devastating destruction of the Temple by the Romans in the year 70 CE – perhaps between 68-73 according to renowned NT scholar, Raymond Brown.[2] It was likely written for a persecuted community of Christians living in Rome. Was it written by the John Mark of Acts who was a follower of Peter and Paul? I don't know; pseudonymous writing was common back then. Does it really matter? Nah, I don't think so.

            The Gospel according to Matthew was likely written next, probably sometime in the 80s. It borrows heavily from Mark as well as from some lost or undiscovered source scholars call Q. This Gospel was perhaps written in or around Antioch to a community of very Jewish Christians. Was the tax-collector, Matthew, the actual author? I doubt it, but that isn't to say some of the details contained within it could not have derived from the apostle himself.

            Next we have the Gospel according to Luke. This is the longest of the four Gospels and the most exquisite in style. It also was probably written in the 80s, and I would venture to say that it was composed after Matthew. It too borrows from Mark and from that Q source that Matthew used. But some of our favorite Gospel stories, like the Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan, are only found in Luke. Since these three Gospels are so closely related due to Luke and Matthew's dependence on Mark, they are known as the synoptic Gospels - synoptic (another fancy-schmancy word you can use to impress your friends) meaning that they can be looked at together. Was it written by Luke, the physician and follower of Paul? Eh. Who can say for certain? What is clear is that the author was a well-educated Greek and an absolutely fabulous writer! Luke, by the way, also wrote the Acts of the Apostles as a sequel to his Gospel – the only sequel found in the NT.

            And then there's John. Many Christians who have read (or even haven't read) the four Gospels will tell you that John is their favorite. It was even the favorite of St. Francis of Assisi. Indeed, it's a beautiful Gospel, so don't get me wrong, but I'm more of a fan of the three synoptics. The Gospel according to John differs greatly in style and narrative than the others, but the essentials are all there: Jesus' ministry, death, and resurrection. The date of its composition could be as early as the 80s with some parts edited as late as 110. Was it written by John the son of Zebedee? Of all of the names attributed to the Gospels, I have the hardest time believing that John, the disciple of Jesus, actually wrote this one. The author seems to have been someone from a particular community of Christians, referred to as the "Johannine community," which may have been influenced very early on from one of Jesus' disciples. The three letters of John were written after the Gospel, and also derive from this Johannine Christian community. The book of Revelation appears to reflect some Johannine influence, though was not composed by the same authors of the Gospel or Johannine letters. Revelation (not Revelations with and 's', one professor was very adamant to point out) was written toward the end of the first century, probably around 92-96 CE.[3] It's a crazy-fascinating book, and many people have questions about it, so I hope to devote a post to Revelation sometime in the future.

            This leaves us with the Letter to the Hebrews and the Catholic Letters. Hebrews is a curious text, and in fact is more of a homily than a letter. Unlike the other NT epistles, the author of Hebrews does not refer at all to himself by name. Both the author and the audience are difficult to discern. Given its references to Jewish religious practices and the Hebrew Scriptures, it would seem the audience was a very Jewish rather than Gentile Christian community. Debates abound as to when it was written, but it had to be earlier than 95 CE, because St. Clement quotes it in a letter he wrote to Corinth around that year. Brown suggests as early as the 60s but more likely in the 80s.[4]

            The Catholic Letters get lumped under that title, not because they are "Catholic" – as in Catholic and not Protestant or Orthodox – but catholic as in general or universal. They were perceived by the early Church to have been for a more general audience, rather than particular communities. The three letters of John also fall under the Catholic Letters, but I mentioned them once already, and I won't get into them again. This leaves us with 1 & 2 Peter, James, and Jude. Were the authors of these letters the Peter, James, and Jude of the Gospels? Again, I doubt it, but arguments can be made that 1 Peter, James, and Jude were written relatively early and may have very close ties with the apostles. A theory circulates that 1 Peter may have been dictated by the apostle to a scribe. Then again, arguments can also be made that they were composed toward the end of the first century (70 - 100) as well. So we can't be sure either way. 2 Peter is surely the latest, for it references 1 Peter, Jude, and Pauline literature. Brown suggests a date as late as 130 CE ("give or take a decade").[5] The Catholic Letters tend to be easily forgotten, as the four Gospels and the writings of Paul dominate our New Testament imaginations. Nevertheless, they are part of our Scriptures and are sacred. Plus, they're short letters anyway, so they're worth our time to give 'em a gander.

            So there you have it. A whirlwind tour of the New Testament. Whew! I think I mentioned each of the 27 books of the NT at least once. Hopefully this gives you a taste of what all is contained in the NT, who wrote it, and when it was written. Admittedly, aside from the undisputed letters of Paul, the precise who and when of the Christian Scriptures is a little clouded, since many texts were written under pseudonyms. We can at least say, though, that all of the writings were composed within about a hundred years of Jesus' death and resurrection. Next time I hope to clarify a little bit about why these books made it into our canon of Scripture, and why other Christian (or some not-so-Christian) writings didn't get in.

            Since we are just over our first week in Lent, and this is usually the time that Catholics are still kind of scrambling to figure out what they're going to do for for the season, here is a suggestion. Read an entire Gospel, anyone you'd like, from beginning to end. It may seem like a lot, but this isn't just a suggestion for the week. You have all of Lent, though I would recommend trying to read it in no more than 3 or 4 sittings. It's better to get a whole story in context than just snippets here and there. Read it like you would any other book. Get invested in the characters, the plot, the twists. See what surprises you, or puzzles you, or frustrates you. What brings you joy and comfort? What strengthens your faith? What challenges you? Either way, just have fun with it. I haven't written much on the Gospels, but it's good to read them with a blind eye at least once anyway. Still, I like to recommend Bibles with good footnotes, like the New American Bible, to help clarify confusing texts.

            As always, you can send me comments or questions via Facebook, Twitter, e-mail, or the comment box below. I think I worked out some of the kinks of the comment box, so if you've had difficulty with it in the past, it should work now. And don't forget to take the survey. Until next time...

Peace and all good!

---

[1] Speaking of citing sources, this post would not have been possible without these texts:

Brown Raymond E. An Introduction to the New Testament. New York: Doubleday, 1997.

Johnson, Luke Timothy. The Writings of the New Testament: An Interpretation. Revised ed. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1999.

And the prefaces to the books of the NT found in 

The Saint Joseph Edition of the New American Bible. New York: Catholic Book Publishing Co., 1992. 

[2] Brown, 127.

[3] Ibid., 774.

[4] Ibid, 684.

[5] Ibid., 762.

All in the Family: The Genealogies of Jesus

           So I'm going to take a break from giving a tour of the Bible Library for a bit. So far, we've covered most of the Hebrew Scriptures, which – and I'm sure Jesus won't mind me saying this – I find more interesting than the New Testament anyway. I was going to write about the compilation and canonization of the Bible this week, but I discovered that I needed some more time to research that topic in order to do it justice. Instead, since we are drawing ever nearer to that joyous season of Christmas, I decided to write about the genealogies of Jesus. What!? That (seemingly) boring list of names at the beginning of Matthew and Luke? Aw yisss, that's right... because even though I can't pronounce half of those names, the lists are, in fact, rather significant and interesting pieces of work.

            If you watch much television, I'm sure you've come across commercials for genealogy websites like ancestry.com or familytree.com. There's even a program on TLC called "Who Do You Think You Are?" in which celebrities explore their ancestral past and learn fascinating secrets about their forebears. It is pretty natural for us to want to know where we come from. I can't count the number of times I've been in conversations about family backgrounds. Just yesterday, in fact, someone in the friary was playing German Christmas music, and much to my delight I could exclaim, "That's my people!" Knowing our origins tends to give us a sense of rootedness, belonging, and may even tell us a little about ourselves – or at least give an us an excuse for our idiosyncrasies. I, for one, like to attribute my anxiety about tardiness to my German side and my frugality to my Scottish side.

            Genealogies throughout Scripture function in a somewhat similar fashion. It wasn't so much that they were accurate lists of a biblical figure's ancestors or progeny – because I don't think that any of them actually were historically accurate  – but that they made a symbolic claim about origins and, especially in Genesis, underscored the interconnectedness of the human family.

            Now I must admit, looking at the genealogies in the Gospels according to Matthew and Luke opens up a big ol' can of worms. But this is one of the reasons that I wanted to write about the them today anyway. They're a good introduction to the subtle (and oftentimes not so subtle) differences among the evangelists' perspectives and theological emphases. If you haven't noticed, there are four different Gospel accounts, and each one is unique. There would be little reason to have all four in the Bible if they all told the same story in the exact same way.

Google Images

            If you have some time right now, peruse through the two genealogies of Jesus: Mt 1:1-17 and Lk 3:23-38 (click the links to find them on Biblegateway.com). You don't have to read them too closely; just get a sense of each one.

Google Images

            Great! So if you had a chance to take a look at them, you may have noticed some obvious differences. Matthew's goes from Abraham and works his way down to Jesus. Luke's, on the other hand, starts with Jesus and goes all the way back to Adam. And if that isn't enough, the two lists hardly agree on the names of Jesus' ancestors. They can't even agree on the father of Joseph! What the frankincense is going on? Just remember what I had said earlier; genealogies weren't created to point out historical facts about someone's ancestry. Their purpose was to make a theological – or otherwise symbolic – point about the person to whom they refer.

            This all has to do with differences in the evangelists' communities and theological point of view. Matthew was writing to a Jewish-Christian audience. His Gospel is the most "Jewish" of the four and is constantly making parallels to the Hebrew Scriptures. Since his audience was made up of Jewish followers of Christ, they had to defend the legitimacy of their belief in Christ against fellow Jews who did not believe Jesus was the Messiah. Thus, Matthew's Gospel is emphatic; in both verse 16 and 17 he calls Jesus the Messiah. And in the very first line of Matthew's whole Gospel he asserts that Jesus is the son of David and the son of Abraham. The latter roots Jesus in the Jewish heritage, for Abraham is the father of the people of Israel and the father of the promise (Gen 12:1-3). Matthew's Gospel is adamant that Jesus was a good Jewish man; he was born a Jew and died a Jew.

            Matthew's emphasis on Jesus being the son of David legitimizes Jesus' royal lineage, for it was a requirement that the Messiah be part of the Davidic line. In fact, Matthew's Gospel uses the phrase "son of David" 10 times, whereas Mark and Luke use it only three times each, and John doesn't use it at all. Interestingly enough, Matthew seems to go out of his way to craft his genealogy into three periods of 14 generations each. One theory is that the number 14 is the value of David's name. In Hebrew, his name is דוד, and the letter dalet, ד, is the fourth letter of the Hebrew alphabet. The letter waw (or vav), ו, is the sixth, thus 4+6+4 = 14. This little numerical word trick is known as gematria, and use of it is made in the Book of Revelation (as in the number 666 equaling Emperor Nero's name). Some have proposed that Matthew's crafting of Jesus' genealogy into three sets of 14 is another way that the evangelist draws a connection between King David and Jesus, almost as if to say that Jesus is the "David-est" or the "most David of persons," and therefore the Messiah par excellence.

            Incredible, right? Yeah, other biblical scholars think so too – that it's too incredible. In his commentary on Matthew, Daniel J. Harrington concludes that this is probably not what is going here with the number 14, and instead suggests that the significance of the number 14 in this case has to do with it being a multiple of the perfect number seven.[1] That's a far more boring explanation, but it may likely be the more accurate one. In his commentary, M. Eugene Boring notes that "dividing history into periods of fourteen appears elsewhere in Jewish tradition," but he doesn't dismiss the connection between 14 and David's name either.[2] Whatever the reasoning behind the number 14, it is clear that Matthew took pains to make sure that that was the number of generations, for he even leaves some names out in the process.

            As for Luke, he is writing to a Gentile audience, so asserting Jesus' Jewishness or his Davidic patrimony, while still important, are not on the top of his priorities. Luke's Gospel still grounds Jesus in the patriarchal lineage – Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob – but his genealogy goes all the way back to Adam, a common ancestor to all. The theme of universality is typical of Luke's Gospel. In his commentary on Luke, L.T. Johnson notes that "the significance of Jesus is not only for the 'children of Abraham,' but for all the descendants of Adam, all the nations of the earth."[3] Furthermore, Luke's genealogy is situated directly after the narrative of Jesus' baptism, in which the voice from heaven pronounces of Jesus "You are my beloved Son..." This theme is repeated in verse 38 of Luke's genealogy, for we hear Jesus' lineage going all the way back to Adam who is "the son of God."

            This is about all I'll say on Luke's genealogy, because Matthew's is far more interesting. If you've taken a look at Matthew's genealogy, you may have also noticed that he names four women other than Mary in his list. Each of these women is a fascinating character. The first is Tamar. I won't go into her whole story, but you can read it for yourself in Genesis 38. Trust me; it's a good read. Lots of drama, just like a soap opera. What I will say of her is that she broke a sexual taboo in having intercourse with her father-in-law, Judah.  But she is declared righteous in the end, for Judah failed in his duty to give her a son that would give her children in her deceased husband's name. I'm telling you; it's a juicy story, that Genesis 38.

            The next woman, Rahab, is a foreigner – a Canaanite from Jericho who is said to be a "harlot." Yet this woman is also righteous, for she rescued the Israelite spies and thus aided the success of the their campaign against Jericho. Perhaps she was a Benedict Arnold for her own people, but for the Israelites she was a saint. You can read her story in chapter 2 of Joshua.

            And then we have Ruth. For a people who hated the nation of Moab so much, it's impressive that they would have a whole book dedicated to a Moabite woman. Not only that, but this woman is an ancestress of King David... the King David! Her story is one of a widowed foreigner who is faithful to her widowed mother-in-law, Naomi (an Israelite woman), and marries Boaz. By doing so he saves Naomi and Ruth from their poverty, since he is a close kinsmen of Naomi's deceased husband. It can be difficult to grasp what all is going on in the narrative, for the cultural context is very remote to modern-day readers. I will say, however, that chapter 3 is resplendent with Hebrew double entendre, and it is unclear whether the interaction between Ruth and Boaz is completely innocent or implying something else. Phrases like "uncover a place at his feet," "Spread the corner of your cloak over me," or even the fact that the couple encountered each other at the "threshing floor" (a place associated with prostitution) all can carry some sexual connotations. That being said, Ruth is the third righteous woman in the list, the second foreigner, and she may or may not have a bit of a sexual taboo associated with her too.

            Lastly, we have Bathsheba, but the evangelist doesn't even use her name in the genealogy. Instead, he refers to her as "the wife of Uriah," almost as if to emphasize the adulterous relationship that King David had with her. The story of David and Bathsheba can be found in 2 Samuel 11. Bathsheba was the wife of a Hittite, which, even if she was originally an Israelite, thus made her a foreigner. David covets her and has relations with her even though he knows she is married. Personally, I do not find Bathsheba very culpable in the whole affair, but there is no indication of her willingness or lack thereof in the narrative. The real schmuck in the story is David, who, upon learning that Bathsheba is pregnant tries to cover up his scandal. When he finds that he can't, he arranges for Bathsheba's husband to die in battle. David eventually marries Bathsheba, and she becomes the mother of Solomon, another well-admired, though not entirely virtuous, king of Israel. Bathsheba thus shares in the characteristics noted in the women discussed so far: somewhat of a foreigner, associated with questionable sexual behavior, but nevertheless honorable – in her case by being the queen mother of King Solomon. As for David, he, like so many other heroes and patriarchs of the Hebrew Scriptures that are included in Jesus' genealogy, is both righteous and flawed.

            So why does Matthew's Gospel go to such lengths to include these women in Jesus' genealogy? Scholars offer several reasons. According to Daniel J. Harrington, "in their own distinctive ways they prepare for and foreshadow the irregular birth of Jesus that will be described in Matt 1:18-25."[4] Luke and Matthew both agree in their infancy narratives that Jesus was born of the virgin Mary and that Joseph is not the biological father of Jesus. Matthew's audience may very well have received a lot of taunts for believing in the strange circumstances of Jesus' birth – What kind of Messiah is born to a woman who became pregnant before marriage? But the inclusion of these women seems to answer back: Look at the ways God works through people, even the most unlikely. As for Matthew's defense of the virgin birth, both he and Luke treat that in more detail in their infancy narratives.

            So yes, the genealogies can seem boring, and yes, their historical authenticity is rather dubious. We can't even get the two genealogies of Jesus to agree! Don't try it either; it's a futile and unnecessary mission. Nevertheless, to loosely quote my biblical hermeneutics professor, Fr. Stephen Sherwood, the Bible, "is about formation, not information." So we must ask ourselves how are the Scriptures forming me?

            One of the things I think we can take from these genealogies, especially Matthew's, is that Jesus enters into the messiness of humanity. Just look at the people in his family tree! They're not bad people by any means, but Abraham, Jacob, David, and Solomon, and many others all had their issues. Even the women mentioned above, although certainly righteous in their own respects, each had a bit of a shadow side. But we cannot pretend that this isn't exactly what humanity is. We all have our faults, our brokenness, our shadow sides, and Jesus enters fully into that. The Jesuit, Fr. James Keenan, defines mercy as "the willingness to enter into the chaos of another,"[5] and this is precisely what Jesus does and one of the things to which Matthew's genealogy points.

            Another message we can reflect upon in the genealogies is that of inclusion. Matthew may have been bent on asserting Jesus' Jewishness, but three of the four women which he lists were outsiders. Just the fact that Matthew includes women at all breaks somewhat from the traditional genealogy schema. Luke doesn't even include women, even though he talks about women more in his Gospel than the other three! Although Matthew is writing to a very Jewish Christian audience, he seems to be declaring that "the messianic story is inclusive, extending to women and men of all nations."[6]

            Oftentimes the ones on the outside – the forgotten, excluded, or despised – are the ones who need to be shown mercy the most, to have someone enter into their pain or problems and include them into that mystery of salvation. I think the theme of mercy, given the chaos and messiness into which Jesus enters, is a perfect point of reflection as we soon enter into the Christmas Season. Not only that, but let us also consider how God uses ordinary and flawed people to be part of a bigger story of salvation history. God is calling each of us to help build up that messianic kingdom – a kingdom of peace, and justice, and mercy. What role do you think you play in that mission? Do you believe that those whom society has cast aside are part of this mission too? How can we reach out in mercy, and what can we learn from those whom others hate, dismiss, disdain, and cast aside?

            My scriptural recommendations for this week as you reflect on these things are simply the genealogies in Matthew and Luke  and, if you get a chance, to also read one or more of the accounts of the four women named in Matthew's genealogy: Genesis 38; Joshua 2; Ruth; and 2 Samuel 11. As always, I welcome comments and questions. You can post something on the Bible Codega page on Facebook if you prefer, or you can also e-mail me at biblecodega@gmail.com.

Until next time, Advent blessings!

             

---

[1] Daniel J. Harrington, The Gospel of  Matthew, Sacra Pagina 1. (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1991), 30.

[2] M. Eugene Boring, “The Gospel of Matthew,” in vol. VIII of The New Interpreter's Bible,  ed. by Leander E. Keck. (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1998), 129.

[3] Luke Timothy Johnson, The Gospel of  Luke, Sacra Pagina 3. (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1991), 72.

[4] Harrington. 32.

[5] James Keenan & Daniel J. Harrington, "Paul and Virtue Ethics: Building Bridges Between New Testament Studies and Moral Theology," (Lanham, MA: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2010), 126.

[6] Boring, 132.