Not surprisingly, Quarles devotes about half of his review to a discussion of Licona’s handling of this one passage. Quarles offers what appears to me to be a very thoughtful and well considered critique of the apocalyptic interpretation of the pericope, which I will only summarize briefly here. He objects that the text of Matthew gives no clear indication of a shift in genre from historical narrative to apocalyptic. He posits that Licona’s arguments for the historicity of Jesus’ resurrection would also support the historicity of Matthew 27:52-53 (a point Quarles unfortunately does not develop, no doubt due to space constraints). He critiques the claim that the pericope is non-historical because it may be poetic. Quarles emphasizes that it is especially difficult to exclude historical and even evidential intent from Matthew’s statement “they appeared to many.” Finally, Quarles takes exception to Licona’s appeals to pagan parallels. His arguments here are worthy of reading and careful reflection.

Quarles mentions the controversy itself only very briefly at the end of the review:

“Recently, Licona’s position on these two verses has stirred considerable controversy, necessitating a more extensive treatment of his discussion of Matt 27:52-53 than a typical review would warrant. My hope, however, is that a treatment of two verses that amounts to only 6 pages out of the 641 pages of text in the book will not prevent conservative evangelicals from carefully reading and digesting the author’s many fine arguments for the historicity of Jesus’ resurrection” (843-44).

Amen to that.

Quarles offers no further comment on the Licona controversy, not even mentioning Norman Geisler, and says nothing about the claim that Licona’s view of the Matthean pericope is a denial of biblical inerrancy. This is rather ironic, given that JETS is the journal of a society founded on the issue of biblical inerrancy. To his credit, though, and as is appropriate in a book review, Quarles keeps the attention focused where it should be, on the relevant exegetical and hermeneutical issues and not on personalities or red-flag accusations.Similar Posts:

• Press Release: Michael Licona Response to Norm Geisler
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In Acts 15, we find the first council of church history (at least, that we know of). It is sometimes called the “Jerusalem Council”. Let me explain the occasion of the council. In Antioch there were large numbers of Gentiles who had come to the faith. However, there were certain Jewish Christians who were teaching these Gentiles that they had to be circumcised in order to be truly saved (Acts 15:1). Paul and Barnabas did not like this much (as you can imagine). Therefore, they began to dispute with these Jews. The Christians in Antioch decided to send Paul and Barnabas to Jerusalem to settle the matter once and for all with the head honchos (Acts 15:2).

It starts out tremendously. If I was in the crowd at the council, I would have been so excited I probably would have started the wave. Peter nails it with an epic argument for the Gospel of grace: “Now therefore why do you put God to the test by placing upon the neck of the disciples a yoke which neither our fathers nor we have been able to bear? But we believe that we are saved through the grace of the Lord Jesus, in the same way as they also are” (Acts 15:10-11; emphasis mine). Kaboom! Issue settled. Let’s go home. Right? Not so fast. James has yet to speak.

After Paul and Barnabas were able to add their 2 cents, James began speaking. And those of us on the side of grace don’t really know what to do. We thought James was on our side, but it is hard to tell. Let me give the play-by-play.

First James affirms that the Gentiles have been called by God just as the Jews had by giving a hat-tip to Peter’s ministry (Acts 15:14). Then he roots the conversion of the Gentiles in Old Testament prophecy (Acts 15:16-18). Good stuff so far. He then seems to fumble the ball with these words: “Therefore it is my judgment that we do not trouble those who are turning to God from among the Gentiles, but that we write to them that they abstain from things contaminated by idols and from fornication and from what is strangled and from blood (Act 15:19-20). My paraphrase: ”Listen boys. Peter was right. We cannot expect the Gentiles to follow the Law that we could not follow. [I wish he would have stopped there] Therefore, let’s just make them do four things: 1) Eat no meat sacrificed to idols, 2) stay away from sexual immorality, 3) no eating animal which are strangled, and 4) no drinking blood.” What is that all about? They cannot abide by the Law, so no circumcision necessary. But here is the three main things that they must do? You chose those four things James? Those four things are the most important? Really? I can understand the sexual immorality stuff, but not the rest. Why not: 1) abstain from selfish living, 2) help the widows, 3) do not neglect the fellowship of believers, and 4) love your children? Or any number of random commands that could have been given. Or just tell them to ”remember the poor” as they told Paul to do as they sent him on his way (Gal. 2:10).

I am not the only one who has had some trouble with this. It would seem that some early western scribe did not like James’ choices either, so he changed the text. The three stipulations in the Western Greek text are that Gentile Christians should abstain from idolatry, immorality, and blood (that is, murder). I like that. It let’s me eat my steak without breaking fellowship with my conscience. It also seem to be much more in tune with the Gospel of grace.

So, the queston of the hour: Why did James include these four?

There are a few options here:

1. James was wrong and was being legalistic.

The apostles are not perfect so recording this in the book of Acts is not an endorsement of the stipulations. After all, didn’t Peter have similar scruples that Paul had to confront (Gal. 2:11-14)?

Problems:

• It is hard to see why Luke would have included this if it were not a legitimate pronouncement.
• Acts 15:22 says that this “seemed good to all the Apostles and elders”. This would include Paul.
• Is seems to still be in practice many years later (Acts 21:25).

2. James was right, but this was only one of those confusing “transitional” or timely issue in the book of Acts.

In other words, like so many confusing transitional occurences like the instant death of Ananias and Sapphria (Acts 5:1-10), the post belief baptism of the Holy Spirit (Acts 19:2-6), and Peter’s replacement of Judas (Acts 1:15-26), this was not meant to be normative.

Problems:

• The idea of “transitional” issues in the book of Acts, while necessarily present, is hard to be definite about, especially with this issue.
• It is hard to see how abstaining from sexual immorality is a transitional or timely issue.

3. James was right and these stipulations still apply to believers today.

This would mean that the four requirements were not merely descriptive of what was going then, but prescriptive to all believers of all times. We are not to eat meat sacrificed to idols, eat or drink blood, eat anything that has been strangled, and abstain from sexual immorality.

Problems:

• It seems to be placing the yoke of a modified law upon all people.
• Paul has no problem with eating meat sacrificed to idols, even calling those who do as “weak” (Rom. 14; see also 1 Cor. 8:4-8).
• I would not be able to enjoy my steak.

4. James was not being legalistic nor transitional, but practical for the sake of fellowship.

These stipulations are included because the issue, at this point, was not a definition of the Gospel, but a way to make fellowship between the believing Gentiles and the believing Jews in Antioch more attainable during the current crisis. While James did not encourage the Gentiles to be circumcised, he did encourage them to keep from being ceremonially defiled. The reason why these four things are singled out is due to the fact that they were particularly heinous to the Jews, making fellowship almost impossible. Therefore James lays down these four things not because of his own scruples, but because of the scruples of the Jews.

Problems:

• This would make sense of the meat sacrificed to idols, blood, things strangled, but would not make sense with the issue of sexual immorality. How is this a ceremonial thing? It is a moral thing.
• Considering the teachings of Paul on the subject of meat sacrificed to idols, it is hard to see how he would have stood in approval of such a cyclical admonishment which has the potential of obscuring the Gospel of grace.

What do you think? The first is what I was taught long ago. The last is the position taken by most commentators.Similar Posts:

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The Problem

Romans 5:1 is our next textual problem study. As will be the case most of the time in this series, this verse makes the list because it contains a variant that is both viable (it has a chance of representing the original) and significant (it changes the meaning to some degree).

Romans 5:1 reads in the NA²⁷ (the standard Greek critical text of the New Testament):

Δικαιωθέντες οὖν ἐκ πίστεως εἰρήνην [ἔχομεν] πρὸς τὸν θεὸν διὰ τοῦ κυρίου ἡμῶν Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ

Therefore, having been justified by faith [we have] peace with God through our Lord Jesus Chri

Brackets have been added to show where the variant lies. As you can see, the NA²⁷ has ἔχομεν (echomen) which is the first person plural present active indicative of ἔχώ (echo) meaning “we have”. This reads, “we have peace with God”.  But the earliest and most respected manuscripts (Aleph, B, C, D, K, L, 33, 81, 630, 1175, 1739, pm lat bo) have the subjunctive mood ἔχώμεν (echomen) meaning “Let us have”. See the difference? It is only the later manuscripts (Aleph¹, B³, F, G, P, Y, 0220^vid, 104, 365, 1241, 1505, 1506, 1739^c, 1881, 2464, pm) that contain the reading opted for in NA27.

I would give a parallel list of the English translations, but every English translation that I know of opts for the indicative “we have”. There are variations, however, in some Greek translations. While all three eclectic texts (Greek texts that draw from all available manuscript evidence; USB⁴, NA²⁷, SBL GNT) have the indicative, both Tischendorf NT (8th Ed; 1872) and Wescott and Hort (1881), who primarily used the great Alexandrian manuscripts (Aleph, B), have the subjunctive, “let us have”. As well, if I remember correctly Harold Hohner believed the subjunctive was original.

Significance

As I excitedly told some people at the Credo House about this problem I was writing on, they looked at me somewhat confused and said, “So. What difference does that make?” First, there is the obvious issue of doctrine. If the subjunctive is preferred, it may be the case that having peace with God involves our effort that comes subsequent to faith. Therefore, there may be something Christians must do in order to have this peace. This could imply a works based salvation and a type of justification that does not solve the enmity that we have with God. If the indicative is preferred, then peace with God is something that justification by faith produces.

However, as we will see, this is one of those rare cases where the later variant is preferred to the earliest manuscripts. This makes it significant in that it illustrates how internal evidence is sometimes preferred to external. It also illustrates how scholars behind the eclectic text do not always follow the Alexandrian type manuscripts (as is often the charge).

The Solution

You may be questioning the viability of this variant since none of the English translations choose the subjunctive. This is a valid question, but, remember, I included this primarily because of how it demonstrates the importance of internal evidence.

Since these textual critical studies are new to many of you, let us review. When looking for a solution to these type of problems, we must look at both external and internal evidence. External evidence has to do with the dating and distribution of the manuscripts. Internal evidence has to do with, among other things, the context of the passage, the viability of possible mistakes, and the character of the author.

 External Evidence

The external evidence is decidedly in favor of the subjunctive “let us have”. Again, it is represented in the earliest and most respected manuscripts. But the indicative does have its share of support. If you are a careful reader, you notice that listed in support of the indicative, “we have,” were Aleph¹ and B³. The subscripts on these indicate that there was a scribe who believed the reading was wrong and corrected it sometime later. As the NET Bible says, ”the first set of correctors is sometimes, if not often, of equal importance with the original hand”. As well, the indicative has a wide distribution, being evidenced in Alexandrian, Western, and Byzantine text-types. And geographical distribution is a weighty factor (so long as it is evidenced early enough). Nevertheless, as Metzger says in his Textual Commentary on the New Testament, the subjunctive has “far better external support” (452).

Internal Support

Sometimes (though, certainly not always) the reading that makes better sense is preferred. For example, if you were to read this, “Atheists say God is now here”, you may think it is rather odd. So odd that you would look for a typo or alternate reading. If later copies of this had “Atheists say God is no where”, you would prefer this due to its accuracy. You may attribute the error to a wrong division of words (fusion). The reading GODISNOWHERE could go either way. Which one makes more sense? It is internal evidence that will cast a decisive vote, even when the earlier reading goes the other way.

It is the same here with Paul in Romans 5:1. The indicative is a better option since it makes more sense considering Paul’s argument and Pauline theology. In chapters 1 through 11 of Roman, Paul is not exhorting his readers, but indicating facts (Metzger, 452). Therefore, an exhortation concerning finding peace with God would not make much sense here (Cranfield, Romans [ICC], Vol 1, p. 257). In chapter 12, the subjunctives and imperatives increase as Paul’s argument has changed from what God has done to what we are to do. As well, it is clear in many other places that Paul believes peace with God is something that, for the Christians, is already accomplished (Romans 1:7, 5:1;  2 Cor. 5:8; Col 1:20).

It is difficult to explain this variant as an intentional change. An unintentional error seems likely. The variant may have been produced by something we call a “homophony”. This is where the scribe was copying the passage by voice rather than sight. The letters that distinguish the indicative from the subjunctive are the omicron and omega and they were pronounced alike in ancient Greek.

While Metzger’s commentary opts for the indicative and gives it an “A” as far as certainty, it is probably more like a B.

Hope you enjoyed this post.

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In Mark 2.26, as found in Nestle-Aland²⁷, Jesus is reported as saying: πῶς εἰσῆλθεν εἰς τὸν οἶκον τοῦ θεοῦ ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως καὶ τοὺς ἄρτους τῆς προθέσεως ἔφαγεν, οὓς οὐκ ἔξεστιν φαγεῖν εἰ μὴ τοὺς ἱερεῖς, καὶ ἔδωκεν καὶ τοῖς σὺν αὐτῷ οὖσιν; Or, in English, “Haven’t you ever read what David did when he was in need and he and his companions were hungry? How he entered into the house of God when Abiathar was high priest and ate the sacred bread that is not lawful for anyone but priests to eat, and also gave it to his companions?” (Mark 2.25-26). The fundamental problem with the phrase “when Abiathar was high priest” is that this incident in David’s life is recorded in but one passage in the OT, 1 Sam 21.1-7. But there, Ahimelech is mentioned as the priest; Abiathar, his son, would later become high priest, but he is not introduced into the narrative for another chapter (22.20).

On the one hand, the prepositional phrase, ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως, has caused some angst for evangelicals because it ostensibly is a historical error. And if so, whose error is it? Did some early scribe corrupt his copy of Mark, which then influenced other witnesses and became the predominant text? Or did Mark add this as an editorial comment on his own? Or did he copy down accurately what his source said (which, according to patristic writers at least, would have been the apostle Peter)—a source that created the historical discrepancy? Or is it possible that Mark’s source repeated Jesus’ words accurately, but that Jesus made a mistake? Or did Jesus summarize the OT text accurately, but the OT was in error? Assigning error to someone is one route that is taken today in dealing with this problem. What I wish to contend, however, is that several presuppositions are at work in assigning blame; the matter cannot simply be isolated to a bibliological problem. Yet even here, there are rather different approaches to the problem by evangelicals.

In addition to the bibliological issue is the question of which Gospel came first. Those who embrace Markan priority tend to argue for an error on Mark’s part that would have been detected and eliminated by Matthew and Luke. Those who embrace Matthean priority tend to downplay any error on Mark’s part by various, although rather brief, explanations.

Then there is the christological issue. Very few scholars even entertain the notion that Jesus could have had a mental lapse. Here is where both liberal and conservative scholars are usually in agreement, but for different reasons: the more conservative scholars, because of their high christology and high bibliology, almost never raise the possibility that Jesus could have erred for that would apparently impugn the character of both the Lord and the Bible. Less conservative scholars (moderate as well as liberal) often see only part of the pericope going back to Jesus, and v 26 is sometimes relegated to a later source. But Jewish scholars have no problem seeing this pericope going back to Jesus and attributing error to him.

Textual criticism also plays a role in this passage. There are variants that either alter the prepositional phrase and its subsequent translation or eradicate it altogether. But one’s text-critical theories inform his decision here—or at least they should!

This is just the tip of the iceberg. Unfortunately, the interpretations of this text are so vast and our time so short that we will have to park ourselves on that part of the iceberg that is above water. Perhaps that is the safest place to be though after all.

The fundamental problem in this text is that Abiathar was not the high priest when David went into the sanctuary and ate the showbread. This raises several questions; in the least, someone or something seems to be wrong. Here are the facts: (1) 1 Sam 21.1-7 mentions Ahimelech as the priest when David entered the sanctuary; (2) Abiathar was Ahimelech’s son; although he was a priest when this incident occurred, he was not the high priest but would become so later (after Saul murdered his father and eighty-four other priests); (3) Ahimelech’s ministry was in Nob, while Abiathar’s would especially be in Jerusalem; (4) except for the possibility of text-critical solutions, Mark’s Gospel has the words ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως, normally translated “when Abiathar was high priest.” In addition, there are several other, less significant differences between the dominical version of this story and that found in 1 Sam 21.1-7 (Gundry lists seven).

In addition to the differences between Mark 2.26 and 1 Sam 21.1-7, there are differences between Mark 2.26 and the parallel accounts in Matthew and Luke. The parallel in Matt 12.3-4 reads, “Haven’t you read what David did when he and those with him were hungry—how he went into the house of God and they ate the bread of presentation, which was not lawful for him or those with him to eat, but only for the priests?” And Luke 6.3-4 has, “Haven’t you read what David did when he and those with him were hungry, how he entered the house of God, took and ate the bread of the Presence (which is not lawful for any but the priests to eat) and gave it to those with him?” Except for a few stylistic changes between Mark 2.26 and the parallels in Matt 12.4 and Luke 6.4, the only difference is the omission of Mark’s “when Abiathar was high priest” (ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως) by both Matthew and Luke. It is hard to resist the notion that Matthew and Luke deliberately expunged this line from their respective copies of Mark so as not to impugn the character of Jesus. But if one holds to Matthean priority, then a softer explanation for the differences must usually present itself.

What possible avenues for a solution do we have for the Abiathar problem? The leading contenders[1] are as follows:

1. Text-critical: the text is wrong and needs to be emended;
2. Hermeneutical: our interpretation is wrong and needs to altered;
3. Dominical: Jesus is wrong (or intentionally midrashic) and this needs to be adjusted to;
4. Source-critical: Mark’s source (Peter?) is wrong (or intentionally midrashic);
5. Mark is wrong (or intentionally midrashic).

The third, fourth, and fifth responses especially need to be examined more carefully, as they are usually rejected by those who embrace both a high bibliology and a high christology. It is imperative that we do not allow our presuppositions to preclude a solid historical investigation. The problem is that some evangelicals—especially members of this society—frontload their investigation with the explicit premise that the scriptures cannot err.[2] Ironically, by starting with this presupposition, they may inadvertently pit Christ against the Bible. The incarnation demands that we do careful historical work, for God became man in time-space history. As such, he invites us to examine the data about his life and death, rather than take a fideistic stance of naïve, uncritical acceptance. As painful as it may be to think about some of these possibilities, if we do not wrestle with them then we will be dishonest in our handling of the text. Each of these approaches will now be examined; our order of investigation will be 1, 3, 4, 5, and 2. That is, we will leave the hermeneutical solution till the end.

(N.B. We are renumbering everything according to the new scheme below. This will be referred to later in the paper.)

1. Text-Critical: The text as it stands is incorrect and needs to be emended.

There are two basic alterations in the ancient witnesses here: D W 271 Itala Syriac^s and a few others omit ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως, no doubt in conformity to the parallels in Matthew and Luke. This is thus almost strictly a Western reading. Those who adopt this these textual variant are, generally speaking, more inclined to embrace Matthean priority. For example, in William Farmer’s The Synoptic Problem: A Critical Analysis[3], the author enlists the help of V. H. Stanton[4] in treating the minor agreements between Matthew and Luke.[5] Farmer quotes from Stanton’s volume, apparently with approbation, that ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως in Mark 2.26 is “erroneous” and that it “may have been an addition by a ‘badly informed copyist.’”[6] Mann also entertains the possibility of scribal corruption, as does Sanders.[7]

As a sidenote, it is interesting that the Western scribes expunge the wording here. In the least, this seems to be evidence that they were concerned about protecting the Lord’s reputation when citing scripture. It is texts such as this (and there are hundreds of them, and in all text-types) that reveal early scribal piety across the board, suggesting that Dean Burgon’s condemnation of the early uncials as products of wicked men was unfounded.

A C Θ Π Σ Φ 074 1 131 209 f¹³ and many others add τοῦ before ἀρχιερέως. The significance of the article is that it turns ἀρχιερέως into an appositive, while the anarthrous noun remains a predicate genitive to Ἀβιαθάρ. (This will be discussed in some detail later.) The addition of the article gives the meaning “in the days of Abiathar the high priest,” suggesting a more general time-frame.[8] This reading thus has a mixture of some Byzantine, Caesarean, and even semi-Alexandrian support. Neither reading has significant external support and both are obviously motivated by scribal piety toward the text. It is difficult to imagine scribes intentionally creating a problem by adding ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως to Mark’s gospel and only to Mark’s gospel. Though perhaps easier to understand, the omission of τοῦ before ἀρχιερέως would hardly have occurred intentionally. And there is little good reason for it to occur accidentally as well. Thus, when it comes to determining which reading gave rise to the others, ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως clearly is superior and obviously authentic.

A general caution about textual criticism I tell my students is that one should not use this discipline as a way out of a difficult problem, but as the means to determine the wording of the original. The biggest danger in textual criticism is to choose a reading that agrees with the interpreter’s preconceptions instead of choosing the reading that best explains (both internally and externally) the rise of the other readings. One has to wonder whether some Griesbachians need to heed that advice.

2. Dominical: Jesus himself made a mistake or was intentionally midrashic (i.e., he embellished the OT story to make his point).

There are two distinct options here: some think that Jesus may have erred; others think that Jesus embellished the OT text to make a point.

2.a. Jesus erred.

It might not surprise us to learn that Jewish interpreters have no problem seeing Jesus committing a historical mistake here. Thus, D. M. Cohn-Sherbok, a rabbi, argues that “though Jesus seems to have been familiar with rabbinic hermeneutics, the arguments he employs are invalid from a rabbinic point of view.”[9] But what about Christian scholars? Indeed, there are some who entertain this view.

Brown argues that Jesus may have erred here[10]:

In Mark 2:26 Jesus says that David entered the house of God when Abiathar was high priest and ate the loaves of the presence. The scene is found in 1 Sam 21:2-7; there, however, the high priest is not Abiathar but Ahimelech. Matt and Luke seem to have noticed the difficulty, for their accounts of this saying of Jesus omit any mention of the high priest (Matt 12:4; Luke 6:4). Abiathar was better known than Ahimelech and more closely associated with David in later life, so that popular tradition may have easily confused the two. But if the reading is genuine, Jesus shows no awareness that he is following an inaccurate version of the story.

Brown is quick to note that he is not altogether comfortable making such pronouncements; indeed, he has been one of the strongest defenders of the deity of Christ in the 20^th century, a factor which may give him pause here. This is an intriguing though disturbing option to consider. Yet few scholars give this more than a glance. Nevertheless, some of the rationale for considering this option is as follows:

• Several verses in the NT seem to indicate that Jesus’ humanity was no different from ours, except that he did not sin. Cf. Heb 4.15 (“tempted in every way just as we are, yet without sin”; Heb 5.8 (he “learned obedience”); Luke 2.52 (he “increased in wisdom and in stature, and in favor with God and with people”[11]).
• These texts seem to indicate that Jesus’ growth as a human being was along essentially normal lines. Thus, a part of this almost surely involved such things as the following: (1) he probably stumbled and fell the first time he stood up to walk. Would we really expect him to rise and walk without stumbling on his first attempt? That view of our Lord seems to be more docetic than orthodox. (2) He probably hit his thumb with a hammer working for Joseph (though he didn’t swear when he did it!); (3) He probably made Hebrew (or Aramaic or Greek) grammatical, pronunciation, and syntactical mistakes as he learned the language, being gently corrected by his mother. This is almost surely the case, for to learn a language well requires interaction, trial and error, correction, and instruction. If Jesus did not say anything until he was sure he was right, then his childhood would be marked out as both ostentatious and exceedingly quiet; but if his childhood proceeded along normal lines, and if he always used the correct grammatical forms, then he would most likely have had to learn at least some of those forms supernaturally. But if that is the case, then his childhood was anything but normal, and would seem to be an implicit denial of the principles taught in Luke 2.52. And (4) he probably made a whole host of other mistakes that would not be classified as sin.
• If Jesus made mistakes in certain areas as a child—even in the area of knowledge—why should we suppose that he did not do so as an adult? Did he stop learning as an adult? Hebrews 5.8 says no; he continued to learn obedience through the things he suffered. Although the learning here is related to experiencing obedience as a human being, it is still learning and it takes place preeminently in Jesus’ adult life, reaching its climax in the crucifixion.[12]
• As well, there is clear evidence in the gospels that Jesus’ omniscience was not always on a human conscious level. Many texts address this, but chief among them is Mark 13.32: “No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” (NIV).
• In sum, although we may well feel uncomfortable with this approach, it must be admitted that to see Jesus err in Mark 2.26 is not to deny his deity, for a mistaken identification is not the same as sin. We will revisit this approach later.

2.b. Jesus embellished.

Gundry suggests the following[13]:

To strengthen his argument, Jesus adds a number of features not found in the OT passage: (1) David’s having companions with him (contrast 1 Sam 21:2-3 [1-2]); (2) his having need; (3) his and his companions’ being hungry; (4) the house of God and David’s entering it rather than merely asking for bread; (5) Abiathar’s being a “high priest,” not just a “priest”; (6) David’s eating the loaves of presentation, either while he is still inside the house of God or after he has come out; and (7) his giving some of the loaves to his companions. Moreover, the OT text speaks of Ahimelech, not of Abiathar. … Apparently, then, Jesus not only adds a number of features. He also replaces Ahimelech with Abiathar the son of Ahimelech for a link with the added house of God, which for Jesus and his audience stands in Jerusalem, where Abiathar officiated (2 Sam 15:24, 35; 17:15; 19:12 [11]), not in Nob, where Ahimelech gave bread to David.

This line of argument is in keeping with Gundry’s earlier (and infamous!) commentary on Matthew, in which he argued that Matthew’s gospel finds its closest genre parallels in Jewish midrash. He now sees Jesus following the same hermeneutical method. In his conclusion to this problem, Gundry forcefully argues: “The fact that when Abiathar does appear in 1 Sam 22:20-23 he does so in connection with the foregoing incident at the house of God makes it easy for Jesus to use his name in blotting out Ahimelech for the sake of a link with Jerusalem.”[14] What is interesting is that Gundry apparently changed his views from his doctoral days at Manchester; his doctoral thesis, published under the title, The Use of the Old Testament in St. Matthew’s Gospel with Special Reference to the Messianic Hope[15], argued essentially that Matthew’s and Jesus’ use of the OT was hermeneutically quite different from rabbinic exegesis. For example, on 215 he says, “Most of all, the theological depth and coherence of the hermeneutical principles (in sharp contrast with Qumran and rabbinic exegesis) demand the unique genius of the kind of man Jesus must have been—they cannot reasonably be set down to Gemeindetheologie.” Thus, it might not be unfair to ask ‘Which Gundry?’ when wrestling with his recent views on Mark 2.26.

Nevertheless, his rabbinic views are generally found in much older, and sometimes even conservative, literature. In the last two hundred years, such notable scholars as Christopher Wordsworth, James Morison, A. E. J. Rawlinson, Hugh Anderson, and J. Bowman have held to one form or another of the midrashic approach.[16]

What shall we say about Gundry’s treatment? At least in comparison with Brown’s approach, Gundry is more conservative than his Roman Catholic counterpart; he is an evangelical who embraces inerrancy, though his definition allows for quite a bit of latitude. Nevertheless, Gundry’s approach may well be more troubling for many evangelicals than Brown’s, for it may seem to some to be a case of scripture-twisting on Jesus’ part. Mistaken identification is one thing; intentional alteration is another. Perhaps more important is the criticism that Cohn-Sherbok leveled against a midrashic Jesus: “though Jesus seems to have been familiar with rabbinic hermeneutics, the arguments he employs are invalid from a rabbinic point of view.”[17] One wonders, along these lines, why Matthew—whose gospel is surely the most Jewish of the synoptics—omits “when Abiathar was high priest” if he learned his hermeneutics from Jesus (as Gundry earlier affirmed). Why would a midrashic Jesus here cause problems for Matthew?

3. Source-critical: Mark’s source (Peter?) made a mistake in reporting Jesus’ words, or else was intentionally midrashic.

Several scholars indicate that the problem in Mark 2.26 may have been due to the evangelist or to his source(s).[18] Now if Peter was the source behind Mark’s gospel, as early patristic writers suggest,[19] it is possible that he added to the dominical saying as he recalled Jesus’ teachings. If so, Mark could have faithfully copied down what Peter wrote, even to the point of recording his mistaken identification of the priest at Nob. This is not much different from what some scholars argue regarding Luke’s recording of Stephen’s speech in Acts 7: there may be historical errors in the speech, but Luke was faithful to record his speech, warts and all.[20] There is of course a certain attractiveness to this view: It absolves both Jesus and Mark from error, and by so doing maintains both a high bibliology and a high christology. Even though Peter was an apostle, in this instance he would not have written scripture. Thus, his oral sermons could hardly be viewed as inspired.

The problem with this view is that if Peter is the source, then that means that he would have most likely given this sermon on dozens of occasions. Surely someone would have corrected him on his historical blunder long before Mark ever wrote down Peter’s memoirs. It is quite different if Jesus or Mark is the source for the ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως. If Jesus said it, the phrase could easily have remained in the oral tradition out of respect for Jesus’ words, even if there were questions as to what was meant by them. However, if Peter is the source of the phrase, in the least one of the apostles would surely have pointed out the error of his ways. An intermediate source, especially if it is Peter, then, remains one of the least likely options.

On a midrashic approach, the same problems as are mentioned with #3 also are raised here, only more so!

4. Mark erred in reporting what his source said, or was intentionally midrashic.

That Mark may have been midrashic is not very likely; such would have been lost on his audience. But that he could have created the error here, or have gotten it from a written source (as opposed to oral tradition), is more likely. This is the view that is probably the most popular among critical scholars. Many commentators simply assume this is the case, without much comment beyond mere assumption. So Meyer, Wendling, Hultgren, Tolbert, O’Connell, Turner, Morgan, Kiilunen, and Pesch,[21] among others, take this route. Kiilunen is representative: he unceremoniously calls the ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως phrase “das Fehlen.”[22] Others spend much more time on the issue but come to the same conclusion. So Lagrange, Swete, Guelich, Hawkins, and Casey.[23]

A point often put forth in this connection is that the OT seems to confuse the two names at times. Hurtado, for example, notes: “It is possible that the Markan account is confused here, for the OT itself is not easy to follow in its references to Ahimelech and Abiathar. In 1 Sam. 22:20, Abiathar is described as son of Ahimelech; whereas 2 Sam. 8:17 and 1 Chron. 24:6 refer to Ahimelech as son of Abiathar and as priest under David.…”[24] This is an old view, with a long list of patristic writers and later authorities embracing some spin on it. Chrysostom, Victor of Antioch, Euthymius Zigabenus, Theophylact, Beza, Heumann, Kuinoel, Garland, Hurtado, Guelich, and many others mention it. It takes two forms. First, the OT is confused, or at least the copies are confused. Second, the OT is correct and both men shared the same name. [25] If the OT erred, this would hardly absolve Mark. As the adage goes, two wrongs don’t make a right. But what of the likelihood that both men shared the same name? In his defense of Matthean priority, Buchanan went so far as to suggest that “According to the LXX, well-known to all three evangelists, the priest who gave David the Bread of the Presence was Abiathar. It is not likely that either Matthew or Luke would have omitted the LXX account just because it did not agree with the MT.”[26] But Morgan proved that Buchanan was wrong: no extant LXX MSS in 1 Sam 21 read “Abiathar.”[27] Even if these two men’s names were sometimes confused, they are not so in 1 Sam 21. Only Ahimelech is seen there, as far as any extant witnesses reveal. And since that is the story that Jesus is referring to, the difficulty of the mention of Abiathar remains.

5. Hermeneutical: The interpretation that “when Abiathar was high priest” is incorrect.

Several solutions present themselves here, but two predominate. First, it is possible that the reference to Abiathar is not to the person per se but to the section of scripture that is being alluded to—thus, “in the portion relating to Abiathar.” Michaelis (in his Introduction to the New Testament) seems to have been the first to propose this view. So Mark 12.26: οὐκ ἀνέγνωτε ἐν τῇ βίβλῳ Μωϋσέως ἐπὶ τοῦ βάτου (“have you not read in the book of Moses, in [the passage about] the [burning] bush”). Robinson[28] finds a parallel in the Mishnah: “Whoever confesses his guilt shall have a portion in the world to come; for so we find in Achan [i.e., in the section of the book of Joshua about Achan] that Joshua said to him, ‘My son, give glory to the Lord…” Though apparently dormant for some time, Wenham resurrected the view in the 20^th century, and has been followed by Lane, Roure, and a few others.[29]

The major problem with this solution is that it requires linking ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως with οὐδέποτε ἀνέγνωτε at the beginning of v 25. But there is too much distance between the words to do this naturally. Such a reading, precisely because it is not natural, would probably never have presented itself except for the historical problem of the text. Interestingly, Lane, who apparently embraces this view, nevertheless offers an excellent critique of it:

The objections which may be raised against this proposal are that ἐπὶ Ἀβιάθαρ [sic] ἀρχιερέως is considerably separated from ‘have you not read,’ unlike Ch. 12:26; that Abiathar is by no means the central element in this section of I Samuel; that the introduction of Abiathar first in Ch. 22 constitutes it unlikely that his name would be given to the section; and that numerous instances in Tannaitic documents indicate that a section was usually designated by a term which occurs early, not late, in the section. The strongest argument for this proposal is the undoubted use of ἐπί cum genitive in Ch. 12:26 to indicate a section of Scripture.[30]

The second possible hermeneutical solution is that ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως could possibly be translated “in the days of Abiathar the high priest.” This was the view of Grotius, Wetstein, Wordsworth, Scholz, and many others. It is the wording of the KJV as well, though the KJV is based on a different text here (which has τοῦ before ἀρχιερέως). Thomas Fanshaw Middleton, in his still unexcelled treatment of the article in the Greek NT, spends much time on this interpretation, but he bases his views on the articular reading.[31] Indeed, Middleton provides the basis for this view’s rejection: “That reading [the one without the article which is adopted in NA²⁷]… would indeed mean, that Abiathar was actually High Priest at the period in question.[32] Middleton cites several classical references to back up his statement. In grammatical terms, we could say ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ ἀρχιερέως involves a predicate genitive (“when Abiathar was high priest”) while ἐπὶ Ἀβιαθὰρ τοῦ ἀρχιερέως involves an appositive to Ἀβιαθάρ (“in the time of Abiathar the high priest”).[33]

Nevertheless, several modern scholars adopt this view. Standard works such as BDAG and BDR argue this without much fanfare—and, unfortunately, without much basis![34] Edwards makes a stronger case: “Mark’s wording… employs epi technically to mean ‘in the time’ (so 1 Macc 13:42; Luke 3:2; Acts 11:28; Martyrdom of Polycarp 21).”[35] But these texts do not help the case as much as he would suppose: they were cited by Swete and Middleton on behalf of the opposite view, viz., that “when an anarthrous title is added to the personal name, the period is limited to the term of office.”[36] I do not yet know of any texts in which the construction ἐπί + genitive of personal name + anarthrous title indicates the general “in the time of,” though one or two seem to come close (see appendix). To be sure, I have not searched very diligently for this construction. But I am not satisfied that BDR and BDAG have supplied sufficient evidence on its behalf.[37]

Conclusion

In 1883, Thomas M. Lindsay could write about the Abiathar problem: “Various explanations of the difficulty have been given, none very satisfactory.”[38] It’s one hundred and twenty-one years later and you may feel, as do I, that if Lindsay were to rise from the dead he’d repeat his complaint verbatim!

But we must put this problem in perspective. What is at stake? Is the deity of Christ at stake? Apparently not, for two of the leading advocates of the “Jesus erred/midrashed” view embrace the deity of Christ. Is the inerrancy of scripture at stake? Possibly so, for if either option 3(a), or 4(a) is adopted, inerrancy cannot hold up. Is the infallibility of scripture at stake? Ironically, it seems to be so only if Gundry’s view is given full force and if Jesus’ use of scripture would have been perceived as self-serving and as eisegetical, for Jesus’ invoking of scripture here is directly related to a matter of faith and practice.

Second, what options seem to be excluded by the evidence? Option 1 (text-critical) is clearly out. The others all have some merit on the basis of evidence.

Third, how and when should our theological presuppositions enter the picture as we try to handle the data of the text honestly? In the least, it is imperative that we not frontload our presuppositions to such an extent that we don’t listen to the text. Evangelicalism is populated with all sorts of academic gatekeepers whose theological a priori drives their investigation and determines its results. The tragic irony is that such people never really learn from the text, for they have already decided what it will tell them. At the same time, we must not think that exegesis can ever be presuppositionless. That notion went out with the demise of historical positivism. There is a difference between giving generally reliable witnesses—reliable as determined by a sound historical method—the benefit of the doubt and assuming that the biblical writers cannot possibly err.

Fourth, this leads to a taxonomy of the doctrine of scripture. With reference to bibliology, I believe we should first and foremost embrace the Bible as a witness to the great acts of God in history, especially to the Christ-event. This is enough for salvation. Second, we should recognize it as an infallible guide in matters of faith and practice. This is needed for sanctification as well. These two pillars seem to be the hallmark of the Church throughout its history, until recently. And third, we should see it as inerrant—true in what it touches. This basically is a safeguard for infallibility, but must never supersede the first two credos about scripture. For when it does, then the incarnation is dishonored. Thus, inadvertently, when we frontload inerrancy and refuse to really probe the tough historical questions, we end up betraying our commitment to the incarnation. The deepest tragedy along these lines is when someone never differentiates doctrinal commitments, for this leaves him wide open to chucking his entire belief system when the weakest link is broken. From experience, I can tell you that this “domino view of doctrine” is altogether too prevalent and has been the ruin of a great many evangelical doctoral students.

Fifth, how can we assess these various options? It must be admitted that views 2-5 all have a certain plausibility.[39] If you were to decide to opt for 2, 3, or 4, I would simply plead with you not to abandon Christ. If your bibliology goes down a notch or two because of this problem, the deity of Christ in the least should still be insulated—unless of course you hold to a domino view of doctrine! Further, if I were to decide that view 3 or 4 was the most compelling, and that this decision resulted in my abandoning inerrancy, it would be a gross distortion to call me liberal! At the same time, one must be very careful about making major theological shifts, especially before the data have been sufficiently examined. Caution is needed when examining material that could change your theological commitments.

Along these lines, I am reminded of what a sage wrote nearly one hundred and fifty years ago. J. A. Alexander concluded, concerning this passage, “It is best, however, as in all such cases, to leave the discrepancy unsolved rather than to solve it by unnatural and forced constructions. A difficulty may admit of explanation, although we may not be able to explain it, and the multitude of cases in which riddles once esteemed insoluble have since been satisfactorily settled, should encourage us to hope for like results in other cases…”[40]

Appendix: my present preference

My own preference is for view 5: I believe that we have interpreted the text incorrectly. I am least comfortable with Gundry’s view (2.b., and by implication 3.b. and 4.b.): to see Jesus’ use of the OT as midrashic is to overturn all the work that Gundry had done earlier; further, his view of Matthew’s hermeneutic as essentially midrashic seems to ignore the ostensibly far closer parallels of Mark and Luke. If Gundry argues that Mark is also midrashic, then Luke must surely follow, for Luke does not differ too significantly from his source. But Luke can hardly be midrashic, for he opens his gospel by echoing Thucydides’ historical principles. Further, if Luke is midrashic, then virtually everything is up for grabs in the gospels, with all the historical and archeological spadework of two millennia being tacitly ignored.

But I am also not particularly comfortable with Brown’s approach, for two reasons: (1) Although Jesus certainly displayed ignorance on occasion by way of omission (e.g., not knowing the date of his return), that seems to be qualitatively different from a statement that involved error. Further, although he almost surely made mistakes as a child while in the process of learning, I tend to view Luke 2.52 as indicating the growth that produced the adult and mature man (thus making his adulthood on a different plane than his childhood). (2) Although Brown defends the deity of Christ, as a Roman Catholic his view of God is not the same as the Protestant view, especially the Reformed Protestant view. Catholic perceptions of God’s sovereignty and majesty tend to be semi-Pelagian, while Protestant views range from Arminian to Calvinistic. Thus, in Brown’s view, it might possibly be easier to affirm an error in Jesus’ statement because such does not impugn his doctrine of God. (For example, although Catholics embrace the omniscience of God, their very doctrine of conditional election seems to presuppose a growth in God’s knowledge and on that basis he chooses.) Views 3 and 4 simply push the issue away from Jesus, making Peter or Mark the errant party. But there is actually little to commend the notion that they did not get this statement about Abiathar from Jesus.

As for view 5, my preference right now is to take the prepositional phrase as meaning “in the days of Abiathar the high priest.” Although Mark apparently does not employ the temporal use of this preposition elsewhere, he almost surely does so here—for both “when Abiathar was high priest” and “in the days of Abiathar the high priest” are temporal expressions. Further, the construction ἐπί + genitive noun is frequently used with a temporal sense outside of Mark—with a meaning similar to ‘in the days of…’ BDAG lists numerous biblical and patristic references under ἐπί with a genitive for time, all in the sense of “in the time of, under (kings or other rulers).” Cf., e.g., Luke 4.27 (‘in the time of Elisha’), Luke 3.2 (‘in the time of the high priest, Annas and Caiaphas’) and even Mark 2.26 (‘in the time of Abiathar the high priest’). Two questions remain: (1) Can any of these texts mean ‘in the time of’ as distinct from ‘when’? That is, can they mean something like “the 1990s will forever be linked to Clinton’s presidency,” even though he was not president for the whole decade? (2) If so, do any of them have ἐπί + genitive proper noun, followed by an anarthrous common noun? Without examining all the data supplied by BDAG, Luke 3.2 looks to be the closest parallel to Mark 2.26, even though ‘high priest’ comes before the two names (the grammatical meaning differs when the proper name comes second; no article is required). But if these two men did not function as high priest simultaneously—and since the singular event of the word of the Lord coming to John the Baptist was during their high priesthood, then this seems to be a clear text in support of the general time frame of ‘in the days of.’ More work certainly needs to be done, but suffice it to say that this view has a certain plausibility and cannot be hastily rejected.

Similar Posts:

• A Possible Error in the Bible?
• Case Studies in Inerrancy: 1 Sam. 26:5-16
• Is Inerrancy the Linchpin of Evangelicalism?
• The Gospels: Embarrassingly Authentic
• New Testament Textual Criticism 101

The Problem

Matthew 18:15 is one of the textual variants in the New Testament that is both viable and significant. A textual variant occurs when there is some degree of disagreement among the nearly six thousand extant (existing) manuscripts. While most scholars agree that none of the variants impact any major doctrine of the historical Christian faith, some are more important than others. For one of these variants to be worth discussion, it must be both 1) viable and 2) significant. For a variant to be “viable,” it has to have a legitimate shot of being the correct rendering of the text. In other words, there has to be some debate about what the original actually says. However, some variants are viable, but not significant. They may have a valid chance of representing the correct reading, but lack any meaningful consequence. For example, there may be some debate about whether a reading is ”Jesus” or “Jesus Christ,” or “Peter” or “the Peter,” but normally, this would not be significant since it does not change the meaning of the text and could be unrecognizable when translated. To be significant means that a variant will change the meaning of the passage to some degree.

Matthew 18:15 reads in the NA27 (the standard Greek critical text of the New Testament):

I know…it’s Greek to you, right? Don’t worry. Here is what the text reads: “If your brother sins [against you] go and show him his fault in private. If he listens, you have won your brother.”

The variant is shown here in brackets: [eis se] “against you.” The earliest and most respected manuscripts (Codex Vaticanus, Codex Sinaiticus, and 0281) lack this addition, while the later Byzantine manuscripts include it. English translations are divided as to which reading best represents the original. Here is a list to show you which reading is preferred by various Bible translation committees and individual translators:

ESV “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother.”

KJV “Moreover if thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone: if he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother.”

NAS “If your brother sins, go and show him his fault in private; if he listens to you, you have won your brother.”

NET  “If your brother sins, go and show him his fault when the two of you are alone. If he listens to you, you have regained your brother.”

NIV1984  “If your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault, just between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over.”

NIV2011 “If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault, just between the two of you. If they listen to you, you have won them over.”

HCSB “If your brother sins against you, go and rebuke him in private. If he listens to you, you have won your brother.”

The Message “If a fellow believer hurts you, go and tell him—work it out between the two of you. If he listens, you’ve made a friend.”

NJB ”If your brother does something wrong, go and have it out with him alone, between your two selves. If he listens to you, you have won back your brother.”

NLT ”If another believer sins against you, go privately and point out the offense. If the other person listens and confesses it, you have won that person back.”

The Significance

The significance of this variant should be fairly obvious. If the shorter reading is preferred, then we are admonished to rebuke brothers and sisters who are involved in sin in general, whether or not it is a direct offense against you. So if you know of someone in the church who has an anger problem, is having an affair, or is cheating on his taxes, you are to follow the procedure of confrontation described in Matthew 18:15-20. However, if the longer reading is preferred, then the confrontation is only necessary when someone in the church sins against you. Cheating on taxes or an adulterous affair would not be a sin against you, so this passage would not be applicable to that situation. But if he or she lies, cheats, or acts arrogantly toward you, then confrontation is necessary.

I find this struggle very relevant in my life. There are people I know who are living in sin, but it is not necessarily affecting me. I debate endlessly how to handle each individual situation. If the shorter reading of this passage is, indeed, preferred, I have a biblical mandate to confront the person according to this method. I understand there are many other problems associated with this verse. Does the person have to be involved in your local assembly? What sins are serious enough to necessitate such a confrontation? There is a big difference in confronting someone about bad language, speeding down the highway while you are in the car, and smoking crack! However, how we handle these situations may rest heavily on what we decide about this variant. Frankly, I would like the longer reading to be correct, as it would take the burden of responsibility off my shoulders for most issues. In short, I don’t really like to confront people. I imagine most of you are like me.

The Solution

The differences among Bible translation committee members are evident. The solution is not easy. We must look at both external and internal evidence. External evidence has to do with the dating and distribution of the manuscripts. Internal evidence has to do with, among other things, the context of the passage, the viability of possible mistakes, and the character of the author.

Since the earliest and best manuscripts have the shorter reading, the external evidence leans in favor of this reading. The concept here is pretty simple. The closer we can get, time-wise, to the originals, the more likely the manuscript correctly represents the original, since there is less time for corruption.

However, there are some viable internal evidences which are persuasive enough to make translation committees favor the longer reading.  We have to ask the question, Why would a scribe have left out “against you”? If he did (hang with me!), it was either an intentional change or an unintentional change.

Why would a scribe intentionally leave this out? It could be that he wanted to make this prescription more universal in its application. However, the shorter reading is normally preferred, since it was characteristic of scribes to add to, rather than to take away from, the Scripture. Heading in this direction, this may have been one of those instances where a scribe added to the text. He may have been like me and not liked the idea of having to confront so many people (there are a lot of us out there who need to be confronted!). Therefore, he added “against you” to make it a little more “doable.” Or it could be that the scribe was influenced by Matt 18:21, where Peter specifically asks Christ how many times a brother can sin “against me.” Considering this, it could be the case that the context of the passage suggests the meaning of the longer reading; therefore, the scribe felt justified in clarifying the intended meaning.

An unintentional change would be more likely if the longer reading is preferred. As Metzger’s Commentary on the Greek New Testament (the standard “go to” in these cases) says, “[I]n later Greek the pronunciation of h( h|, and eiv was similar.” As well, the NET Bible notes have a related solution, citing the similar sound of the end verb hamatese and the prepositional phrase eis se. These seem unlikely, since both solutions suppose that the scribe was copying by voice rather than by sight (i.e., someone was reading the manuscript to him) and this type of mistake is not what we would expect in such a situation.

Though I don’t want to, I prefer the shorter reading which teaches a more universal application. Externally, the evidence is stronger. Internally, it makes more sense to think that the scribe added the “against you,” rather than taking it away. The shorter reading is the harder reading and, generally speaking, the harder reading is preferred (i.e., it’s easy to see how someone might want to make this verse more “doable”). Nevertheless, it may very well be that Peter’s comments in Matt 15:21 do imply that the context is limited, even if the shorter reading is preferred.

While Metzger does prefer the same reading as me, he grades it with a “C.” Translation: he is not that sure. As well, there are some pretty smart guys who are behind the NLT, HCSB, NIV1984, and the ESV, so it is far from conclusive.

I hope you enjoy this type of post. I am trying to share a different, yet important, part of the world of biblical studies, so that perspectives and knowledge can be gained concerning these types of issues. Let me know if you enjoyed it, and I will continue to write about other viable and significant variants in the Bible (although my fellow blogger, Dan Wallace, whom I sat under, is much more qualified to write on these issues!).Similar Posts:

• Textual Problem Study: Romans 5:1
• New Testament Textual Criticism 101
• Textual Criticism in a Nutshell
• Text Criticism in a Nutshell
• Is the Bible a "Paper Pope" for Protestants?

Keeping Focused on the Real Issues

At the end of Part One, I listed seven specific claims that are essential elements of the Mormon doctrine of exaltation taught by Joseph Smith and still taught by the LDS Church in such official instructional publications as Gospel Principles:

1. God has not always been God; it is not true that he has been God from all eternity (though he may have existed from all eternity, he has not always existed as God).
2. God was once a man like us before becoming God our Heavenly Father.
3. God became God and is an exalted man, an exalted being.
4. Human beings are the spirit offspring of God, our Heavenly Father. We lived in heaven with God before becoming physical beings here on earth.
5. We became human beings precisely so that we would have the opportunity to attain exaltation just as God did.
6. Human beings can become “gods” in the sense of becoming exalted beings fully like Heavenly Father in all essential respects, just as he did before us.
7. As exalted beings or gods, we can become creators and have all the power, glory, dominion, and knowledge that God the Father has (in the worlds we create).

It is crucial that we keep our focus on these specific doctrinal claims and not allow the discussion to be sidetracked by tangential questions or, worse still, nebulous or vague statements to which both evangelicals and Mormons could give assent if they are allowed to interpret them as they wish. For example, the issue here is not whether human beings can become “like God.” All evangelicals, as well as all Mormons, affirm that human beings can in some sense become like God. For example, all evangelicals believe that redeemed human beings will become perfectly sinless and loving—like God. The issue, then, is in what sense or in what ways human beings can become like God. To put the matter philosophically, the real issue is whether human beings can become beings of the same order and nature ontologically as God—and whether God himself was once a man who then became such a being. That is, the debate is really over whether humans can become beings that have the same metaphysical attributes as God, such as omnipotence and omniscience, and perform such defining works of God as creating universes—and whether God the Father himself is such a human being who became a God. Like all orthodox Christians, evangelicals say No; but Mormons say Yes. This is the issue that separates us, and it is the issue on which we need to focus, using the seven specific doctrinal claims listed above to keep that focus clear. Evangelicals need not object to the word “exaltation” or the Greek theological term theosis (see, for example, Robert Rakestraw’s article “Becoming Like God: An Evangelical Doctrine of Theosis”); what is objectionable from an evangelical perspective is the substance of the Mormon doctrine that Peterson and others reference using these terms.

For evangelicals, the crucial issue with regard to any doctrine is whether that doctrine is well supported by the teachings of the Bible. Thus, if a doctrine of the LDS Church were to find some support in the thinking of some Christian groups or teachers in the centuries following the close of the biblical era, that fact, though interesting, would not warrant acceptance of the doctrine. To show that a doctrine taught by Joseph Smith was a genuine revelation of truth once part of the Christian faith but subsequently lost (by neglect, suppression, or whatever), we will need to see some evidence that this “restored” doctrine was once taught by Jesus or his apostles. For all practical purposes, this means finding some evidence of the doctrine in the writings collected in the New Testament (NT).

Peterson quotes two NT passages in support of Joseph Smith’s doctrine of exaltation (Rom. 8:17; Rev. 3:21). No doubt he could quote more than these two (it was a very short article), but these two proof texts may be regarded as representative of the kind of texts that he and other Mormons view as support for the doctrine in question. But what sort of support do they really provide? It is my contention that these proof texts not only fail to support the LDS position but even context actually provide evidence against it.

Romans 8:17—Children and Heirs of God

Romans 8:17 says that “if we are children [of God], then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ” (NIV). Peterson offers no explanation for how this verse supports or reflects a doctrine of theosis or exaltation in the LDS sense, perhaps because he thinks it is self-evident. Thus, all he tells us is that critics of Mormonism “harshly” fault it for taking this verse (and others) “very literally.” But just how does a “very literal” reading of this verse support Joseph Smith’s doctrine?

One certainly cannot infer from this text any suggestion that God has not always been God, that he was once a man like us before he became God, or that as God he is an exalted man (our first three points above). Nothing in this text so much as hints at the idea that we can attain exaltation as the Father did, or that we can become like the Father in all essential respects, or that we can become creators with all the powers and knowledge that he has (our last three points). Our receiving an inheritance from God jointly with Christ is an inexpressibly glorious hope, but nothing in the text suggests that this inheritance will make us deities of the same ontological order and attributes as God.

Taken out of context, I suppose it is possible to argue that Paul’s references to us as God’s “children,” if taken “literally,” would imply our preexistence as spirit offspring of God prior to our mortal lives on earth (point #4). In fact, though, a “literal” reading of the passage in context precludes such an interpretation, because Paul in context is speaking of believers in Christ becoming God’s children by adoption (v. 15). If we are adopted as God’s children, then we are not naturally or literally God’s children in the sense of being his literal offspring. Elsewhere, when talking to pagans, Paul once adapted for his message a line from a Stoic poem that referred to human beings as God’s “offspring” (Acts 17:28-29), but there is no more reason to take such language literally in that context than there is here in Romans 8. Paul also affirmed that believers in Jesus Christ become God’s children by adoption elsewhere in his epistles (Gal. 4:5; Eph. 1:5).

Some Mormon apologists try to reconcile the LDS doctrine with Paul’s teaching on adoption by suggesting that God did not procreate our preexistent spirits in heaven but rather “adopted” us there in heaven as his children. I don’t think this theory satisfactorily coheres with what LDS Church leaders have taught over the years, but set that issue aside for the moment. It certainly will not cohere with the teaching of Paul about adoption. For Paul, the “adoption” process begins by our receiving the Holy Spirit to dwell in us when we come to faith in Jesus Christ and will be completed when we are raised from the dead to immortal, glorious, eternal life (Rom. 8:14-29; Gal. 4:4-7; Eph. 1:3-14). I won’t take the time to lead my readers through these passages verse by verse, but I urge you to walk through them in that way yourself. The indwelling of the Holy Spirit, which we receive when we become Christians, is the down payment or guarantee of the future consummation in which our adoption as God’s children will be fully realized (note especially Rom. 8:23 and Eph. 1:13-14). Trying to read into these passages the notion that we were “adopted” by God in a preexistent heavenly existence is an exercise in futility.

If Romans 8:17 does not support any of the seven specific elements of Joseph Smith’s doctrine of exaltation, then it has no value in showing that Joseph was restoring a lost doctrinal truth. In fact, we have seen that Romans 8:17 in context has a different view of human beings than the view taught by Joseph Smith. Paul views human beings as God’s children not by virtue of their preexistence but on account of God’s graciously adopting as his children those who put their faith in Jesus Christ, God’s divine Son (cf. v. 3).

Revelation 3:21—Sitting on Christ’s Throne

Revelation 3:21 serves no better as a proof text for any specific element of the LDS doctrine of exaltation: “I will grant the one who conquers permission to sit with me on my throne, just as I too conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne” (Rev. 3:21 NET).

Again, Peterson suggests that non-Mormons often take offense at Mormons taking this verse “literally.” I would suggest, though, that even Mormons do not take this verse literally, and if they did it would in no way support and form of theosis, let alone the LDS doctrine of exaltation. Is the Mormon claim with respect to this verse that exalted humans will be given the opportunity to sit in Christ’s chair—or in God the Father’s chair—in heaven? One can imagine a “literal” acceptance of such occurrences that would not entail those exalted humans becoming beings of the same order or essential nature as God. A king might let an adopted child sit on his throne, even on his lap, as an expression of love and closeness, without anything more being implied.

Presumably (he does not explain what he is thinking) Peterson understands Revelation 3:21 to mean that those who conquer will be given divine authority comparable to the authority of Christ, which in turn is comparable to the authority of God. Such an interpretation would hardly be literal, but in any case it does not fit the specific LDS doctrine of exaltation. According to that doctrine, exalted human beings, as I put it before (point #7 above), can become creators and have all the power, glory, dominion, and knowledge that God the Father has (in the worlds we create). But Revelation 3:21 does not say anything like this. It does not speak of exalted people receiving their own thrones of equal glory or authority to that of Christ or God. Rather, it speaks of God’s conquering people being welcomed to sit with Christ on his own throne. There is no idea here of a multiplication of deities that organize and rule over their own separate worlds. Mormons do not think that exalted people will become members of “the Godhead” or co-rulers of this world with the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost (the three Gods who in LDS doctrine rule this world). They think that exalted people will become Gods and rule over their own new worlds. As it stands, Revelation 3:21 simply does not fit such a theological scenario.

The fact is that it is not anti-Mormon animus that leads evangelicals and other orthodox Christians to eschew a “literal” reading of Revelation 3:21. It is, rather, a recognition of the genre of the Book of Revelation as a whole, a book that exhibits clear signs throughout of an ancient Jewish genre commonly known today as apocalyptic literature. The apostle Paul used similar language in speaking about the present status and future hope of Christian believers:

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

The idea in Revelation 3:21 is probably the same as in Ephesians 2:4-7. Believers in Jesus Christ in the present may feel like they are on the losing end of history. They are often persecuted and even more often ignored. There is no palpable difference in this mortal life between a Christian and a non-Christian (which is why we often have difficulty telling them apart). But whatever may be happening on the surface, in reality believers in Christ are assured of all the blessings that he came to acquire for us. Christ’s conquest of sin by his death on the cross counts as our death to and conquest of sin. His conquest of death by his resurrection counts as our conquest of death and assures us of our own future resurrection to immortal, eternal life. And his conquest of all spiritual powers that oppose God by his ascension to the right hand of God the Father counts as our conquest of those spiritual powers and our eventual enjoyment of eternal life in intimate relationship with God in his presence. That Christ’s death, resurrection, and  especially his ascension to the Father’s right hand have to do with his bringing all evil spiritual powers under submission is clear from several statements in the epistles (most explicitly, Rom. 8:34-39; Ephesians 1:20-21; Col. 2:9-15; 1 Peter 3:22). Read in this broader NT context, Revelation 3:21 affirms in apocalyptic fashion the basic Christian truth that those who are united to Christ through faith are assured of spiritual victory over all the evil forces of this age. This is the idea behind John’s description of faithful believers in Revelation 3:21 (and elsewhere) as those who conquer (note especially Rev. 12:11; 15:2; 17:14).

If we go back and review the seven specific elements of Joseph Smith’s doctrine of exaltation, we can find none of them implicit (let alone explicit) in Revelation 3:21. The text neither says nor implies that God the Father was a man who then became a God, that we existed in heaven before becoming mortals, or that we can become beings of the same ontological order or essential attributes as God. This text, then, also does nothing to support Peterson’s case that Joseph Smith restored a lost, forgotten doctrine. Again, in context Revelation 3:21 does not even fit LDS theology, which claims not that exalted people will share God’s rule over this world but that they will become divine rulers over their own worlds.

Possible Rebuttal #1: Other Biblical Proof Texts

At this point I need to anticipate and address three likely rebuttals to the argument I have made here. The first will be citations of other biblical texts thought to support the LDS doctrine of exaltation. I have already commented briefly on one of these (Acts 17:28-29). There are many such texts that Mormons have cited over the years and probably more that creative individuals may cite, and obviously I cannot discuss all of them here. I will be content, for the moment, to make the following observations.

(a) I do not think anyone will be able to offer any clear biblical support for the first three points of the seven I have listed. That is, there are no biblical statements that would appear to offer anything like clear evidence for the belief that the Father was once a man prior to becoming a God. Joseph Smith’s own proof text nicely illustrates just how weak any such proof text is likely to be. He reasoned that if, as Jesus said, the Son only did what he saw the Father doing (John 5:19), then the Father must have been a mortal man on an earth somewhere, died, and risen from the dead, just as Jesus did in our earth (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, 346-48). Joseph’s interpretation fits neither the wording of John 5:19 nor its context. What Jesus said was not that the Son does whatever the Father did (past tense) but that the Son does whatever the Father does (present tense). That is, Jesus was saying that the works he did were the same kind of works that the Father also was doing. In context, Jesus was explaining to his critics that in giving life to the crippled body of a paralyzed man on the Sabbath, he was simply doing the very sort of thing that his Father God always does. The Father gives life and does other “work” on the Sabbath, Jesus said, and so does he. In short, the Son does the works of deity and exercises the prerogatives of deity, just as his Father does (John 5:17-23). That is Jesus’ point—not that everything Jesus ever did recapitulated something specific that the Father had done previously.

(b) LDS biblical proof texts for the preexistence of human beings as heavenly spirit children of God the Father are no better. Such proof texts typically are statements that refer not to human beings existing before their mortality but to God knowing and making determinations about human beings before they existed. This is the case, for example, with God’s statement that he knew Jeremiah before he was born (Jer. 1:5) or the NT texts that speak of God foreknowing people’s salvation before the foundation of the world (notably Eph. 1:4). I have discussed Mormon proof texts for human preexistence in an article on IRR’s website, to which I refer interested readers.

(c) It is possible to cite a number of biblical texts, especially in the NT, that affirm that God intends human beings to become like him in some way. Evangelical theology has no trouble enthusiastically affirming all such statements. We believe that God will glorify believers, conform them to the image of his Son, make them perfect and holy just as God the Father is perfect and holy, give them immortality and eternal life, and so forth. If these sorts of things are what is meant by theosis, then evangelicals believe in it as much as any other Christian tradition. If this were all Mormons meant by exaltation, evangelicals would agree with that understanding of the goal of human existence (even though we would still have some massive disagreements about other things). Again, the trouble with LDS eschatology is that it teaches that God and human beings are simply members of the same species at different stages of their progressive development and that we have the potential to become the very same kind of being—in terms of metaphysical attributes or ontological nature—as God. The Bible simply does not support such an idea.

Let me comment on just one such text, which of all NT texts might seem to be the most promising for the LDS claim. “Through these things he has bestowed on us his precious and most magnificent promises, so that by means of what was promised you may become partakers of the divine nature, after escaping the worldly corruption that is produced by evil desire” (2 Peter 1:4 NET). Is not Peter’s reference to becoming “partakers of the divine nature” exactly what Mormons are affirming? Not really. In LDS theology, divine nature is the natural potential of all human beings, a description of our own inherent nature as God’s spirit offspring. In Peter’s teaching, believers in Jesus Christ “become partakers” of the divine nature through God’s gracious promises. To “become partakers” here means that believers begin sharing in or participating in something that was not already their own. It does not mean that human beings become divine by nature but that in some way they participate or share in the divine nature. In context, the “cash value” of this hope is not that human beings will become omnipotent deities or creators, but that they will become people characterized by such attributes as virtue, knowledge, self-control, endurance, piety, brotherly affection, and love (vv. 5-7). If there is a doctrine of “theosis” here, it is a theosis of moral and spiritual transformation, not of ontological exaltation to Godhood. Christians are supposed to become “like God,” not in the sense of becoming beings of infinite power, but in the sense of becoming as holy, truthful, dependable, and loving as God. We should not minimize the importance of this hope—it is absolutely wonderful—but we should also not misinterpret it to mean something it does not.

Possible Rebuttal #2: The New Testament Is Unreliable

The second objection I anticipate hearing from some Mormons is that, to the extent that the LDS doctrine of exaltation cannot be substantiated from the NT, this merely shows that the NT as is stands is incomplete. Jesus and the apostles did teach this doctrine, they will suggest, but we don’t find it clearly revealed in the NT for some reason. This reason may be that the text of the NT writings was corrupted or changed, with clear statements of the LDS doctrine expunged or lost; or it may be that certain writings that did clearly teach the doctrine were omitted (excluded) from the NT canon in favor of the present corpus.

Those who take this approach to the issue will in effect have abandoned the type of argument that Professor Peterson presents in his article arguing that Joseph Smith restored the doctrine of theosis. What Peterson attempts to show is that the doctrine had been forgotten by Christians (or at least most Christians) but has been there in the sources or traditions of the Christian religion all along. Thus he quotes a couple of verses from the NT and claims that understanding these verses “literally” leads to the doctrine of exaltation that Joseph Smith taught.

Still, it is possible that even Peterson would like to reserve the right to argue that the NT (and his other sources as well) is not as clear as it might have been due to the loss or corruption of some of the textual material that might have belonged originally in the collection of Christian scripture. That is, he might argue that some or all of these sources attest to the doctrine as remnants or fragmentary allusions, passing or indirect references to a doctrine once clearly taught but now less than explicit in those sources.

I offer two responses to such a possible line of rebuttal to my argument.

First, I am afraid such a line of argument is nonfalsifiable and really meaningless as far as the evidence is concerned. It amounts to making the following three claims: (a) Any statements in the Bible that sound similar to the Mormon doctrine are evidence that the doctrine used to be taught. (b) Any statements in the Bible that seem to conflict with the doctrine are evidence of corruption of the text. (c) The lack of more affirmative or explicit statements in the Bible supporting the doctrine is evidence that the Bible is incomplete (either because it is missing some books or because the books it has are missing some material). Those with a flair for logic will immediately see the problem with this reasoning: any doctrine might similarly be defended. A similar three-prong strategy is in fact used by various religious groups to defend their doctrines. For example, those who believe that Jesus taught reincarnation cite a few biblical texts in support (e.g., Matt. 11:14; 17:11-12), explain away seemingly contrary statements as later dogmatic intrusions (e.g., John 1:21), and assert that the church suppressed the doctrine of reincarnation in the sixth century by altering the biblical texts to remove explicit references to it. If such reasoning can be used to defend every belief, then it really is of no use in supporting any belief.

Second, the evidence that we have does not support the claim that the text of the Bible was so corrupted that a doctrine like the Mormon doctrine of exaltation might have been lost from it, or that the canon of the Bible is incomplete because whole books that teach the doctrine were suppressed. This isn’t the place to go into all of the particulars on these two big topics, so I will simply summarize what I understand to be the facts, focusing on the NT because that is where one would expect to see the most explicit enunciation of such a doctrine (and where most Mormon proof texts for the doctrine are found).

With regard to the text of the NT writings, the problems necessitating NT textual criticism are generally variants and glosses to the text, not losses of original material from the text (the ending of Mark being the only possible significant exception, depending on one’s view of Mark 16:9-20). Variants are different wordings of the same text (e.g., “we have” versus “let us have” in Romans 5:1). Glosses are additions to the text (e.g., the lines about the angel at the pool in John 5:3b-4). That is, the issue with regard to the NT text is that we have more than the original text, not less. This point has been made quite convincingly by Parchment and Pen’s own Daniel Wallace, who is arguably the leading evangelical scholar on New Testament textual criticism. Thus, there is no serious chance that the NT writings originally taught something like the LDS doctrine of exaltation. Furthermore, if one searches through all the variants and glosses to the NT writings, one will no more find a forgotten (LDS) doctrine of exaltation than a forgotten doctrine of reincarnation.

As for the canon of the NT, to my knowledge no Mormon has ever proposed that a specific book teaching something like the LDS doctrine of exaltation was wrongly excluded from the NT canon. The reason is simple: there is no such book. Neither the ancient writings of the early church nor the heretical writings rejected by orthodox Christians teach a doctrine clearly comparable to the LDS doctrine (summarized in the seven points listed earlier). I will illustrate this fact later in this series when I comment on Peterson’s collection of quotations from the church fathers.

I have often asked Mormons who speculate about various extant books being omitted from the NT which of those books they think should have been included. Usually they don’t know, but occasionally they will suggest one or more specific books. If they do, my follow-up question is always the same: if any of those books should be in the NT, why has the LDS Church prophet never announced this fact? For example, if someone wishes to argue that Shepherd of Hermas or the Didache should be in the NT, what is preventing the LDS prophet from adding such books?

The reality is that our knowledge of the teachings of Jesus and the apostles is for all practical purposes limited to the writings of the NT. These writings simply do not support any of the seven critical elements of the LDS doctrine of exaltation.

Now, a Mormon might wish to argue that the Book of Mormon is another source of information about the teaching of Jesus, since it reports Jesus teaching the Nephites. In my next post, though, I will explain why the Book of Mormon is no help to Mormons on this issue.

Possible Rebuttal #3: Latter-day Revelation

The third likely rebuttal to the argument I have presented here is that Mormons know that Jesus and his apostles taught the LDS doctrine of exaltation because Christ restored this doctrine in the later days through Joseph Smith. This appeal to latter-day revelation begs the question that Peterson seeks to answer with evidence from the NT and other ancient sources. Thus, this likely response is not a defense of Peterson’s argument but an alternative to it.

Obviously, I cannot in this article go into all of the reasons for questioning the Mormon belief in Joseph Smith’s teachings as revelations from God. I will simply point out that from an evangelical perspective the argument runs in the opposite direction: since the teaching of Jesus and his apostles in the NT does not agree with Joseph Smith’s theology of exaltation, this is itself strong evidence against Joseph’s claim to be a prophet of God restoring true Christian doctrine.

Rob Bowman is the director of research for the Institute for Religious Research in Grand Rapids, Michigan. For a wealth of resources on Mormonism,  please visit IRR’s website.Similar Posts:

• Did Joseph Smith Restore Theosis? Part One: The Mormon Doctrine of Exaltation
• Did Joseph Smith Restore Theosis? Part Three: The Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith’s Doctrine of Exaltation
• Did Joseph Smith Restore Theosis? Part Five: Early Church Fathers and Joseph Smith’s Doctrine of Exaltation
• Did Joseph Smith Restore Theosis? Part Four: Esoteric Jewish Theology and Joseph Smith’s Doctrine of Exaltation
• In What Sense Are Jesus and the Father One? Part III: One in Purpose? C: John 17:21-23

So, I must do this review in haste for the sake of peace in my home. But that doesn’t mean that it’s a careless review. I have read several reviews of the NIV 2011—some positive, some not—and have checked numerous passages to form a judgment of my own. As one who has been a consultant, proofreader, translator, or editor of a few Bible translations, I come with some experience in the matter.

A Selected History of the English Bible

First, for a brief history lesson. The NIV was one of the first English translations of the modern era to consciously depart from the King James Bible tradition. That tradition—reaching as far back as William Tyndale (1525)—has had successors in the Revised Version (1885), American Standard Version (1901), Revised Standard Version (1952), New American Standard Bible (1971), New Revised Standard Version (1989), and English Standard Version (2001). This tradition involves a heavy amount of infighting: The revisers of 1885, mostly British scholars, were slammed by those devoted to the King James Bible. Chief among them was John Burgon, whose main complaint was over the textual basis of the RV New Testament, a work that was largely a translation of the Greek text that Westcott and Hort had published in 1881. Apart from the textual base, the RV also suffered from its position of touting the triumph of “King Truth” over “King James.” The RV was literal, and slavishly so; it was the ugly step-child of King James, and had a poor following. Contrary to what many KJV Only advocates believe, the KJV was not a literal translation; it was a literary translation (as H. L. Mencken—no friend of Christianity once quipped—the King James Bible is “unquestionably the most beautiful book in the world”). It was a literary masterpiece that, in this regard, has been unmatched by any English translation of the Bible since. But its accuracy of text and translation were long overdue for a major overhaul when the RV came along.

On the Revised Version translation committee were some Americans who, by agreement with the syndics of the RV, would not publish their own translation for fourteen years. In 1901, the American Standard Version appeared, and it had significantly improved English over the RV. This was the first English Bible produced by a committee, since the KJV, which was actually put in tolerable English.

Fifty-one years later, the RSV appeared. And that’s really where our story begins. The RSV had “young woman” in Isa 7.14, which was an affront to many fundamentalist and evangelical churches, so much so that one pastor even lit a copy of the RSV on fire from the pulpit and sent the ashes to the RSV committee chairman. (Dr. Bruce Metzger, who as the chairman of the NRSV committee inherited the ashes of this Bible, once showed me the urn that housed them. He quipped, “I’m so glad to be a Bible translator in the twentieth century: they only burn the translation, not the translators!”) The furor over the translation of ‘almah in Isa 7.14 was so strong that other translations sprang up in reaction to the purportedly liberal bias in the RSV. The NASB was chief among them, since it was within the same Tyndale-KJV-RV-ASV tradition. It intended to offer a conservative alternative to the RSV, based on the same tradition. But it could be argued that the original NIV (1978) was also stimulated in part by the RSV’s defection from the KJ tradition. Translation is always a tricky business, and part of the balancing act for translators is to be as faithful as possible to the original text while making a translation that the average Christian will embrace. Jerome found this to be a problem when a riot broke out in Tripoli in AD 403 when they read his translation of Jonah 4.6—more specifically, his translation of  ‏קיקיון in Jonah 4.6 as ‘ivy’ (hederem) instead of the traditional ‘gourd’ (cucurbita). Augustine even found it necessary to write to Jerome about the situation, pleading with him to temper how much he tampered with the traditional Latin text. Now, if the rendering for a plant could cause a riot, how much more would treating a key prophetic text such as Isa 7.14 cause upheaval? Yet, truth be told, ‘young woman’ is almost surely what the Hebrew word means. In Matt 1.23, the evangelist is quoting from the Septuagint of Isa 7.14, and clearly the Greek word for ‘almah means ‘virgin.’ (See the note in the NET Bible at both texts for discussion.)

After the RSV fiasco, English Bible translations started reproducing like rabbits. To this day, the reaction to the RSV is visceral. Yet, surprisingly, the NIV 2011, although it adopts ‘virgin’ in Isa 7.14, lists ‘young woman’ as a viable alternative. The old battle lines have worn down to sometimes barely recognizable historical relics, reminders from the past of what once divided us.

In 1952, one woman was at the center of the storm of Bible translations; beginning in 1989, all women were the focus. And, once again, it was the (N)RSV that was the instigator. In that year, the New RSV appeared. With its gender-inclusive language, the NRSV seemed to go beyond the limits of accuracy and good English style in a fair number of texts. The table below shows what the RSV read in comparison with the NRSV in three verses: 

Table 1

RSV Compared to NRSV

 In Matt 18.15, the NRSV is an ugly translation. This is due to an overriding principle of making the translation gender inclusive, even if the English ends up being terrible. Who speaks like this: “If the member listens to you, you have regained that one”? In this respect, the NRSV has gone retro, mimicking the homeliness of the old RV, but without its accuracy. Ironically, the NRSV committee’s attempt at avoiding sexual connotations by replacing ‘brother’ with ‘member’ results in creating sexual connotations of another sort! (One of the major tasks of Bible translators these days is to get rid of what one scholar calls the ‘snicker factor’—those places where bathroom humor or sexual innuendo need to be changed, making the translation junior-high-boy foolproof. The NRSV succeeded on several fronts, changing what the RSV had—e.g., Ps 50.9 [“I will not accept a bull from your house” vs. “I will accept no bull from your house”]. But not all: see, for example, Matt 8.20.) Further, by stretching the limits of gender inclusiveness to the breaking point, the NRSV distorts the text here: ‘brother’ is a familial term, and in the context of church discipline has connotations of warmth and commitment to each other that ‘member’ lacks. What is left is a cold harshness in the context of discipline, far removed from what the Matthean saying originally intended to convey.

In 1 Tim 3.2, “married only once” translates the Greek phrase, “husband of one wife” (though some evidence has been suggested that this phrase might mean simply “married only once”). The text now sounds like Paul would allow women to be elders/bishops, but that seems to be a case of historical revisionism.

And in Rev 3.20, the singular of the Greek text is lost in modern English since we no longer distinguish singular from plural with the second person. The warmth and emphasis on the individual in the Lord’s invitation is thus toned down because of other concerns.

So, what does this have to do with the NIV 2011? Just as with the evangelical and fundamentalist reaction to the RSV, there has been yet another spate of translations in response to the NRSV. The ESV and HCSB are leading the charge, keeping the gender-inclusive language in check. I won’t comment on the value of those translations here, except to note that the ESV, largely because of Leland Ryken’s role in the work, brings an understated elegance to the translation. In a word, the ESV is memorable, something we will address later on.

But four other translations of note have appeared since, or contemporaneously with, the NRSV, and none of them seems to go nearly as far as the NRSV in its inclusive agenda. The REB (1989), which is a revision of the NEB (1970)—both produced by British scholars—is also a gender-inclusive translation. But the translators explicitly noted that gender inclusiveness would not trump good English style. (Just check the REB in the three verses already discussed to see that they were true to their word.) The Brits apparently learned a big lesson from the RV’s failure: the NEB and REB stand as probably the best English renderings of the Bible in terms of style done in the twentieth century. (Look at Luke 11.48 and John 1.1 for illustrations of accuracy that simultaneously involve great style.)

The NET Bible (2005) should also be mentioned: it does not take sides on the gender issue, but intends to be gender accurate. That is, it is not gender inclusive if the Greek or Hebrew explicitly refer to males, but it is likewise not gender exclusive if the original languages have in view both sexes.

Finally, the TNIV (2005) and NIV 2011 should be mentioned. These are gender-inclusive translations or perhaps gender neutral, but not nearly to the extent as the NRSV. And on the translation committee—indeed, the chairman of the Committee on Bible Translation, Douglas Moo—are those who would be styled ‘complementarians.’ That is, these translators (by no means all, but a good portion of them no doubt) generally believe in male leadership in the home and church. The opposing group is known as egalitarians, those who believe essentially that men do not have the sole rights as leaders in the home or church. The remarkable thing about these two newer translations is that such scholars could work together to produce them. And all of them are evangelicals. This speaks very highly for the TNIV and NIV 2011 and serves as an implicit endorsement of the translation by both groups. Although ‘over 100 scholars’ seems like overkill for a good translation (a much smaller group could do as good a job if not better), the NIV’s multinational and multidenominational workforce removes it from any charges of sectarian bias. This really has to go for the gender issue, too, because of both complementarians and egalitarians on the translation committees.Similar Posts:

• A Review of the NIV 2011: Part 3 of 4
• King James Bible: Historical Timeline
• A Review of the New International Version 2011: Part 4 of 4
• What Bible Should I Own (Dan Wallace)
• A Review of the NIV 2011: Part 2 of 4

Yet, at the same time, while I have periods of faithlessness, I still believe—in God. In other words, I am never perpetually faithless. Confused maybe, but not faithless. I do know in whom I believe.

I am going to take an odd and probably unexpected turn now. One of the most frequently quoted passages of Scripture, with regards to our tendency to weaken our grip on faith, is 2 Tim. 2:13:

“If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself.”

Normally, we would turn to this passage and wipe the sweat off our brow in relief. Phew . . . When we are faithless, Christ will remain faithful. Faithful to what? To us! In other words, we may let him down, but he will never let us down. While I believe that this principle is true and can be found in many passages of Scripture, I don’t think that is what is being taught here. If I am right, then this verse is misused and the real (important) message here is lost. This has implications concerning the character of God and the reality of hell.

Most scholars would agree that this passage, starting in v. 11 and ending in v. 13, is part of a well-established statement of faith, or creed, that was put to a rhythmic hymn. It was probably used at one’s baptism. Being such, it is doubtful that it is originally from Paul. Notice Paul’s introduction in verse 11, “It is a trustworthy statement . . .” The “statement” was already in existence. Notice the rhythm and parallel structure.

For if we died with Him, we will also live with Him
If we endure, we will also reign with Him

If we deny Him, He also will deny us
If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself

This was part of the early Christian kerygma or “preaching.” It was a creed that was memorable because of its structure. This structure is called parallelism. There is a parallel correspondence from one line to the next. There are a few types of parallelisms that are possible:

1. Synonymous Parallelism. The second line repeats the first in words or ideas (e.g. Ps. 24:1, Ps. 19:2, Prov. 1:20)

2. Antithetical Parallelism. The second line contrasts with the first line in words or ideas (e.g. Ps. 1:6, Mark 8:35)

3. Synthetic Parallelism. The thought of the second line supplements, or brings the first line to completion (e.g. Luke 12:49-51, Ps. 92:9).

It is clear that the first set in this creed is that of a synonymous parallelism. Notice how the second line repeats the same concepts as the first:

For if we died with Him, we will also live with Him
If we endure, we will also reign with Him

In this, we understand that “died” parallels “endure.” As well, “live” parallels “reign.”

The question now becomes Does the second set in this creed follow the same structure? I believe there is very little evidence for us to state otherwise.

If we deny Him, He also will deny us
If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself

In this case, “If we deny him” would parallel “If we are faithless,” and “He will deny us” would parallel “He remains faithful.”

In other words, this particular verse does not speak about Christ’s faithfulness to us even when we are unfaithful, but speaks to his faithfulness to himself when we are faithless (e.g. when we deny him). This faithfulness to himself is one of judgment. If we are faithless, we will be judged.

Notice the explanatory addition to this creed, “. . . for he cannot deny himself.” This explains why it is that Christ would deny people when they deny him. The reason is that he cannot deny himself. The implication is that his righteousness requires judgment. If he did not judge our faithlessness, then he would deny the necessary functionality of his attribute of righteousness, and this he cannot do. In other words, God cannot just forgive. He can’t sweep sin under the rug. He cannot wink his eye at rebellion. It must be judged.

This creed represents the early proclamation of many essential elements of the Gospel. We need to ponder the implications. Early Christians were taught of God’s salvation and judgment. Both of these were held in balance. In other words, the earliest Christians saw heaven and hell, acceptance and denial, mercy and judgment, belief and unbelief as the essence of the Gospel. This creed evidences that in the early Church, one was not taught without the other.

Paul tells Timothy in the next verse to remind the believers of these things. The term remind implies that this was a teaching already well-established in the early Church. As well, the reminder serves as a warning that there are distinctives in belief that the Church must uphold.

Having said all of this, many commentaries do not agree with my conclusion. Most would say that this would not be Pauline theology. Paul, according to them, believed that Christ is faithful even when we struggle in our faith. While I agree with this general truth—God is faithful even when we struggle—I think they are missing the point of what is being said.

First, this hymn is not necessarily a Pauline original, as I previously mentioned. It is an established creed or hymn.

Second, this passage is not speaking of people who are struggling in their faith, or even have a lack of faith from time to time (which characterizes even the best of us). What it is speaking of is perpetual unbelief or perpetual denial. It is speaking about the reality of ultimate judgment for all those who deny Christ, having never placed their faith in him. The “faithless” in “if we are faithless” is in the present tense, meaning it is a perpetual state of faithlessness.

Therefore, I think we need to be careful how we use this verse. While it is true that when we struggle in our faith, when we let God down, and when we have times of weakness, God will never let us go (John 10:29), it is also true that if we do not ever have faith in him—i.e., if we deny him—he will deny us, for he cannot act against himself.

This has significant implications to current discussions about the Gospel and how it is to be presented, especially with regard to the doctrine of hell. Would God really allow people he loves to go to hell? Of course. Why? Because he cannot deny himself, anymore than he can hand in his job resignation.

We must have a balance of life and death, love and judgment, rewards and consequences, and heaven and hell. If one of the earliest creeds balanced the Gospel in such a way, how much more should we?

There are some additional implications here. God was pleased to kill his Son because he could not deny himself. And the Son was pleased to die because he could not deny himself. It was a necessary judgment that took place as Christ stood in our place. Those who propose that a substitution was not necessary—that God could forgive without some form of atonement—are essentially saying that God could deny himself. Forgiveness comes at a price because God’s righteous nature cannot be denied.Similar Posts:

• A Short Exegesis of 2 Timothy 2:11-14 – An Early Christian Creed
• Orthodoxy: Should We Define Who is “In” and Who is “Out”
• Orthodoxy: Should We Define Who is “In” and Who is “Out”
• Hell and the Happiness of Heaven – Part 1 (Sam Storms)
• Loopholes for Hell: A Response to Jeff Cook’s Response to Francis Chan

However, I don’t believe that Romans 9-11 is talking about corporate election, but individual election. Here are eleven reason why:

1. The whole section (9-11) is about the security of individuals. Election of nations would not make any contextual sense. Paul has just told the Roman Christians that nothing could separate them from God’s love (Rom. 8:31-39). The objection that gives rise to chapters 9-11 is: “How do we know that these promises from God are secure considering the current (unbelieving) state of Israel. They had promises too and they don’t look too secure.” Referring to corporate election would not fit the context. But if Paul were to respond by saying that it is only the elect individuals within Israel that are secure (true Israel), then this would make sense. We are secure because all elect individuals have always been secure.

2. In the election of Jacob over Esau (Rom. 9:10-13), while having national implications, starts with individuals. We cannot miss this fact.

3. Jacob was elected and Esau rejected before the twins had done anything good or bad. There is no mention of the nations having done anything good or bad. If one were to say this is nations that Paul is talking about, it would seem that they are reading their theology into the text.

4. Rom. 9:15 emphasizes God’s sovereignty about choosing individuals. “I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy.” The pronoun hon (whom) is a masculine singular. If we were talking about nations, a plural pronoun would have been used.

5. Rom. 9:16 is dealing with individuals, not nations. “So, it does not depend on the one who desires or makes effort, but on the mercy of God” (my translation). theolontos (desire) and trechontos (effort) are both masculine singulars that is why it is translated “the one” rather than “those.” (BTW: I don’t like ESV’s translation of this (man’s) as it is misleading and, ironically(!) supporting of corporate election). It is hard to see national implications at all here. It is about individual desire and effort. The acquisition of God’s mercy transcends the ability of man.

6. Once again, Rom. 9:18, speaking in the context of the hardening of Pharaoh, Paul summaries what he is trying to say using masculine singular pronouns: “Therefore, the one God wishes to have mercy on, he has mercy on. The one he wishes to harden, he hardens” (my translation). It would seem that if Paul was merely speaking about national or corporate election, the summary statement would change from Pharaoh to nations (plural), but the summary here emphasizes the sovereignty of God’s will (theleo) over individuals (singular).

7. The objection in Rom. 9:14 makes little sense if Paul were speaking about corporate or national election.  The charge of injustice (adikia), which much of the book of Romans is seeking to vindicate God of, is not only out of place, but could easily be answered if Paul was saying that the election of God is only with respect to nations and has no salvific intent.

8. The objection in Rom. 9:18 is even more out of place if Paul is not speaking about individual election. “Why does he still blame people since no one can resist his will.”  The verb anthesteken, “to oppose or resist,” is third person singular. The problem the objector has is that it seems unfair to individuals, not corporations of people.

9. The rhetoric of a diatribe or apostrophe being used by Paul is very telling.  An apostrophe is a literary devise that is used where an imaginary objector is brought in to challenge the thesis on behalf of an audience. It is introduced with “What shall we say…” (Rom. 9:14) and “You will say to me…” (Rom. 9:19). It is an effective teaching tool. However, if the imaginary objector is misunderstanding Paul, the apostrophe fails to accomplish its rhetorical purpose unless Paul corrects the misunderstanding. Paul does not correct the misunderstanding, only the conclusion. If corporate election were what Paul was speaking of, the rhetoric demands that Paul steer his readers in the right direction by way of the diatribe. Paul sticks to his guns even though the teaching of individual election does most certainly give rise to such objections.

10. Rom. 9:24 speaks about God calling the elect “out of” (ek) the Jews and the Gentiles. Therefore, it is hard to see national election since God calls people “out of” all nations, ek Ioudaion (from Jews) ek ethnon (from Gentiles).

11. In Paul’s specific return the the election theme in the first part of Romans 11, he illustrates those who were called (elect) out of the Jewish nation by referencing Elijah who believed he was the only one still following the Lord. The response from God to Elijah’s lament is referenced by Paul in Rom. 11:4 where God says, “I have kept for myself seven thousand men who have not bowed the knee to Baal.” This tells us two things: 1) these are seven thousand individuals that God has kept, not a new nation. 2) These individuals are kept by God in belief as the characteristic of their “keeping” is their not bowing to Baal (i.e. they remained loyal to God).

12. Using the Elijah illustration in Rom. 11:5, Paul argues that “in the same way,” God has preserved a remnant of believing Israel of which he (as an individual) is a part (Rom. 11:1). This “keeping” in belief of individuals is according to “God’s gracious choice” (11:5).Similar Posts:

• “Why Does He Still Find Fault”: Predestination, Election, and the Argument of Romans 9
• Corporate Election (Dan Wallace)
• For those of you interested in the issues of Calvinism and Arminianism
• Bucer, Evangelism and Unconditional Election
• Some Misconceptions about Calvinism

It is a trustworthy statement:

For if we died with Him, we shall also live with Him; 

    If we endure, we shall also reign with Him;

If we deny Him, He also will deny us; 

   If we are faithless, He remains faithful; for He cannot deny Himself.”

There is strong agreement that this passage, introduced by pistos ho logos (“this saying is trustworthy”), is an early creed set to meter. In other words, this is not Paul’s original composition, but was a common among the early church. It could have been a saying or a part of a hymn. This is significant as it demonstrates early Christian dogma which predates Paul’s letter by many years.

Each of the four lines is introduced with the conditional participle ei. The creed (or at least this part of it) seems to consist of two parallel sets of lines each of which represent escalation (climatic parallelism). I have distinguished by font and indentation here:

For if we died with Him, we shall also live with Him; 

    If we endure, we shall also reign with Him;

If we deny Him, He also will deny us; 

   If we are faithless, He remains faithful; for He cannot deny Himself.

In the first line, the protasis is a past tense, “If we died with him.” The second is set in the future, “we shall also live with him.” While Paul may not be the author of this creed, it does seem to represent Pauline influence. In Romans 6 Paul informs Christians that we have all died with Christ, meaning the old condemned man has been done away with, being buried with him (Rom. 6:2-3). It would then follow that the future “living with him” is not eschatological, but a present reality that follows our death with Christ. If we have died with him, we live with him becoming united in his resurrection (Rom. 6:8).

Our “enduring” is the subject of the next protasis. It would seem that it escalates the previous apodosis, “live with him.” Christ’s life was one of endurance, so we should expect the same (Rom. 12:12; 1 Cor 12:7; hupomeno). The final escalation, paralleling “live with him” is our future reigning with Christ. 

However, there is a turn in the creed. This turn is from one of hope, to a stern warning. The first person plural (“we”) is retained, but the protasis introduces the opposing option that people can take concerning Christ—denial. If we are to deny him, he will deny us. Our denial is the polar opposite of dying with him. Therefore, it would seem that this has to do with the progressive response of unbelievers (who neither die nor live with him), not a slip of faith like that of Peter who denied Christ three times. The fearful result is found in the apodosis, “he will deny us.” This denial is reminiscent of Christ’s words in Matt. 10:33. Christ’s repetition of this theme in his ministry demonstrates it importance in his message (Mark 8:38). 

What follows is hard to be too definitive about. “If we are faithless, he remains faithful.” Though this is often quoted as referring God’s perseverance in his love for us even when we are weak in faith, I don’t take it as such. Don’t get me wrong, I do believe that God is faithful to his promises when we waver (Rom. 3:3), but the creed here seems to be escalating in the direction that the previous stanza. If this is the case, “If we are faithless” is not a waver of faith from a Christian, but a result (or cause) of our denial (which it parallels). Supporting this is the use of the word apistos, which always, in the New Testament, references unbelief, not wavering unfaithfulness (Mark 16:11, 16; Luke 24:11, 41; Acts 28:24). Even in Roman 3:3 when Paul uses it, it speaks of the fact that unbelieving Israel does not make God unfaithful to his promises (further explained in Rom.9-11).

If this is the case, then the parallel continues in the apodosis of the last line of the creed. If we are unbelieving, Christ is still faithful. Faithful to what? To deny us in judgment. Why? ”Because he cannot deny himself.” His own character demands that those who don’t believe be judged.

Why all of this exegesis? Good question.

Because this early creed demonstrates how important it is for us to communicate both hope and warning, both heaven and hell. This is one of the first summary statements of the Christian faith ever created. In this summary, the church was not shy about the reality of what it means to deny Christ. They were not shy about how important God’s righteousness is to the Gospel message. They were not about to let the message of hope be lost, but neither were they going to sweep God’s righteous character, demanding of judgment and beyond being denied, under the rug of emotional accommodation.

This tells me that hope cannot be preached without warning. The sting of judgment has been their from the earliest creed. How can we compromise on it today?Similar Posts:

• Can God “Deny Himself”? A Misunderstanding of 2 Timothy 2:13
• Orthodoxy: Should We Define Who is “In” and Who is “Out”
• Orthodoxy: Should We Define Who is “In” and Who is “Out”
• Paul and Justification by Faith
• What is the Witness of the Spirit and Why Don’t I Have it?