The Jontological Argument

Midway down this page featuring the life and legacy of Marcus Jastrow we see the following:

The second, “authorisited” [sic!], edition of the Jastrow dictionary was published in 1926 in one volume.

A few posts ago, I expressed a small measure of concern/interest regarding the use of sic. with the exclamation mark in published literature. Is there something I don’t know about regarding the proper usage of sic? Perhaps there is a rule out there that says, “If the misused word is (a) important, (b) more than three letters different from the intended word, or (c) funny, then sic. may be employed with an exclamation mark.” I would appreciate help finding if such a rule exists (I suspect it doesn’t). I know one thing: I am a little sic [sic!] in the head for worrying about this, and for ending on a pun.

I’m surprised that few so-called “experts” seem to have heard of Stan the Baptist (auf Deutsch: Stanley der Täufer). I have scanned in an image of a serious article that exploded onto the biblical scene about 1 1/2 years ago. However, few were willing to admit the importance of Stan the Baptist, probably because of what it would do to their pet theories and hypotheses. I am one of the bold and brave who follows fact where it leads.

I give you: the hard evidence, the very same evidence upon which I based my proposal for a Stan the Baptist study group at the 2009 SBL Annual Meeting. (Click on the image below, then zoom in)

Extra credit: From what publication did I scan this?

Agricultural Metaphors in the Gospel of Matthew  

In this paper I argue that Matthew presents Jesus as adopting and expanding upon John the Baptists agricultural imagery, and I attempt to demonstrate some of how he accomplished this. I do this in fewer than 20 pages. It’s still in draft stages, so feel free to let me know your thoughts.

You may read about the find in Jordan here.

Am I the only one who has noticed this? I was thumbing through Michael Knowles, Jeremiah in Matthew’s Gospel (JSNT 68, 1993, hardcover), and I chanced to look at the subtitle: The Rejected Profit Motif in Matthaean Redaction. Now, perhaps I’m obtuse, but I think this was supposed to read The Rejected Prophet, not Profit. Yet it’s spelled that way on the cover and the title page.

Was this inentional? Like a joke to make a buddy laugh? More seriously, does the poor author get a chance to proof his book cover when working with that publishing house?

UPDATE:

Yes, others have noticed too. Look here and here. This leads me to another question: both of these authors cite the book with a “sic!” designation. Is an exclamation mark really the appropriate protocol for adding sic to one’s bibliography? I know it’s kind of surprising, but that’s why blogs, not bibiolgraphies, were invented (!).

1. “The house”

Keener thinks that the additional mention of the house (Mt. 13:1) “might be part of Matthew’s style” (Keener, 374). Schnackenburg thinks it is an alteration to Mark’s discourse that simply ties it with the preceding context (Schnackenburg, 123; cf. Blomberg, 213). France, writing on source and structure, feels that “the introduction of a ‘house’ in v. 36 complicates the scenario and indicates the composite origin of the discourse” (France, 501). Gundry, interestingly enough, believes that Matthew is trying to identify Jesus as “the sower” who “went out” in Jesus’ parable (Gundry, 251). None of the above discussions strike me as particularly helpful. Though a minor detail, I believe that a house is a possible window into the world in which Jesus worked. That is, it’s a piece of evidence about “the historical Jesus.”

I believe Hagner is on the right track by attempting to pay attention to Jesus’ whereabouts, rather than chalking “house” up to a literary interest (Hagner, 367-8). I believe Simon Peter’s house is the default “house” in Galilee (Capernaum) when none other can be identified (cf. Davies and Allison, 100). It was a well-known location among the early community of believers, as evidenced by the probable identification of the house by archaeologists (see Rainer Riesner, “Archeology and Geography” in Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels, 39). I believe Mark 1:29 is important in this regard, especially because the following context that shows the “whole city” (Mk. 1:33) gathered at Peter’s door. Peter’s house is identified explicitly in Matthew 8:14, Mark 1:33, and Luke 4:38. When “the house” is meant to refer to another house, its first mention is identified with a genitive of possession (e.g. Mark 14:3: “h/| oivki,a| Si,mwnoj tou/ leprou”). The crowd knows where to find Jesus when he cannot be found outside anywhere.

Perhaps this is still assumed when Bezae and sy^s (two ’semitic’ versions), which lack mention of the house, but simply say that Jesus went out (unless Gundry is right). I think it’s more accurate to see him working in the houses of others who open their doors to him, which is the same model early itinerate Christian prophets seem to have used (cf. Didache 11; Acts 10, where Peter himself stays elsewhere, despite owning a house).

2. Purpose of parables

According to Keener, the purpose of parable is to explain. Particularly they explain “why Jesus’ kingdom comes first in a hidden way and why Israel’s leaders reject Jesus” (Keener, 371). Contrary to Keener, I believe that others have come closer to the purpose. France contends that parables explain nothing; rather, “To some they may convey enlightenment, but for others they may only deepen confusion” (France, 500). Hagner says much the same thing about their “dual” function (Hagner, 376).

3. Touching Jesus’ Garment

Davies and Allison are surprised that Matthew includes such a statement, “Given Matthew’s dislike of magical practices” (Davies and Allison, 512). They follow Plummer in seeing this as something that is forced on Jesus by the crowds. I disagree with this interpretation. I can find no evidence thus far of parallels in pagan magical practice (though there might be something in the broader Hellenistic sphere). There is no hint that the narrator objects to this healing method. Rather, the emphasis is on the wonder of the healing.

I find Hagner’s explanation more satisfactory: “it hints at the ’salvation’ ultimately to be accomplished by the Savior . . . The christological significance of the pericope is left implicit in Matthew” (Hagner, 427). If nothing else, the near-parallels in Mt. 9:20-21 and Acts 5:15, 19:12 seem to indicate something more positive here. Rather than speaking of “magic,” it would seem to speak of God’s great power through Jesus. Rather than gratuitous, it seems to be benevolent.

[Author name simply refers to a major commentary by that author]

1. Thaddeus/Judas/Lebbaeus in Matthew 10

There is mixed opinion regarding the list of twelve apostles (10:1-4), on a number of issues. First, the question of Thaddeus/Judas/Lebbaeus. All commentators I surveyed for this passage (mainly Davies and Allison, France, Hagner, and Blomberg) see Thaddeus as the original reading, with which I agree. There are numerous theories as to how the Lebbaeus variant arose. One theory is that Labbaeus is the copyist’s attempt to insert Levi into the account (France, 374; Davies/Allison, 156 n.52). This theory would appear to take Matthew the tax collector as a different individual than Levi, an idea to which I am not well disposed. Also, I do not understand how one could posit such an idea, and meanwhile see “the toll collector” as an interpolation to explain the story of 9:9 (Davies/Allison, 145). Another ideas is that Thaddeus and Lebbaeus are both come “from the Hebrew taday (breast) and leb (heart)” (Blomberg, 169; cf. Davies/Allison, 156). Alternatively, I did not find any assertion by Hagner on this variant (Hagner, 263). The second idea, the Hebrew-names hypothesis, seems plausible to me. Davies/Allison gives one of the most interesting pieces of evidence I have seen for this: the inclusion of a man named tȏdầ on a talmudic list Jesus’ disciples (Davies/Allison, 156). If true, it would seem to give a possible glimpse into a tradition about the twelve, as well as a possible glimpse at the practices of Christian scribes (who either knew Hebrew or were aware of the tradition of the name).

The issue of this name would not be complete without an attempt to explain why Mark and Matthew have Thaddeus, while Luke (and John) has Judas. The general tendency is to see Judas as the same person as Thaddeus/Lebbaeus, but without explaining the variation in names (Davies/Allison, 156, following Jeremias; Hagner, 266). France fails to assert even this much (France, 374). The most assertive suggestion comes from Blomberg: Judas was his real name, while the other two designations are his nicknames (Blomberg, 169).

While I would not want to be overly speculative on this, I do wonder how Luke and John came to preserve Judas, while Matthew and Mark designate him as Thaddeus, and early traditions point to an additional name of Lebbaeus. This plays into the overall issue of interdependence. If Matthew followed Mark (Hagner, 264; Davies/Allison, 145), then the origin of the “nickname” tradition would most likely have been Peter, who was well-acquainted with Judas-Thaddeus on an intimate level. Davies/Allison see the distinct possibility that Q material comprises part of the list (Davies/Allison, 145); but in my mind, this would not explain why Matthew would keep the (possibly) Petrine-origin Thaddeus, a title of affection. Alternatively, if Matthew was indeed written by Matthew, then the name Thaddeus need not depend upon the connection to Peter, since Matthew would have known Judas-Thaddeus. It makes more sense to me to say that Judas-Thaddeus was known in the original Matthean community/communities from an early date, and by his affectionate name (and perhaps Origen reflects this, if the Latin translation reflects his knowledge?). Luke and John, however, were writing later, and to a wider audience, and the use of the proper name Judas would simply make more sense.

2. The Message of Jesus in Matthew 10

As for the teaching of Jesus, the commentators who discuss sources tend to see this as a Mark-Q combination by Matthew. Hagner minimizes the role of Mark, and allows for the presence of orally transmitted materials (Hagner, 268). Keener seems to think that Mark knew Q, and that Matthew uses a Mark-mediated-Q (e.g. Keener, 319)! Davies/Allison construct an entire Q discourse (or the “contours” of one) based on their redactional analysis (Davies/Allison, 164). They then speculate that Paul knew of a Q-like collection of sayings. Not having done an analysis of verbatim agreement between Luke and Matthew, I cannot speak to this definitively. If Q = oral tradition (approximately speaking), and Matthew took form as a sermonic repetition of this same material, it is hard to saw which came first, since they are all probably in flux with one another.

Regardless of source(s), the significance of the discourse seems to be addressed both to Jesus’ day and to a later time. Keener points out elements (e.g. pagan courts) that were not a factor in Jesus ministry (Keener, 313), at least as far as we know. However, we should not go as far as our continental friends, who see this as a product of a later time with little basis in pre-Easter instruction (e.g. Schweizer, 236; cf. Luz, Schnakenburg). Preferable is the notion that the historical core is the teaching of Jesus, and that Matthew presented this in a way that allowed it to continue in its applicability; though, France cautions, “mutatis mutandis,” the necessary changes have to be made (France, 380). Indeed, the continued applicability of the discourse is modeled by the example of Paul in his epistles (his explicit words), as well as the picture of Paul in Acts (in explicit action, e.g. shaking the dust off when leaving a city). Certain conditions should dictate the applicability. The least we can do is to respect such social constructs presupposed in the discourse as we probe it for theological meaning. Persecution is the most obvious one; and where persecution is absent, the applicability of this discourse becomes less apparent. In today’s world, where un-persecuted, salaried ministers are common, any applicability would seem to be frozen for another day.

The most difficult problem regarding Luke 12:10 is the English phrase “the one who blasphemes.” I find that few commentators treat the verse satisfactorily. I have found that most commentators follow the train of thought begun by Augustine (Serm. XXI/LXXI Ben.) with regard to the Donatists: Unpardonable blasphemy is a failure to repent, and thus a failure to obtain the very repentence one needs. Augustine is cited by Schaff-Herzog, who is cited by Plummer (ICC), who is cited by Bovon (EKK), whose commentary is about to be translated into English and published in the Hermeneia series as cutting-edge. In reality, the latest cutting-edge goes back to Augustine (that is, unless the English version radically changes what is currently there in the German original). One finds commentators address the referent as “obstinate,” “hard-hearted,” and so forth. They emphasize a long-term lifestyle. Bock, in his BECNT commentary, calls it a way of life.

 This all hinges on the meaning of “the one who blasphemes.” Can this refer to a lifestyle of rejection? Or does this refer to something else? The difficulty regarding this phrase is twofold:

1. First, the grammatical problem. The phrase comes from an articular aorist participle - that is, an aorist substantival participle. The problem is that few have written about the semantic force of aorist SUBSTANTIVAL particples. Most of the debate surrounding aorist participles is the relationship of the participle to the main verb. This does not apply in the current scenario. How does an aorist particple characterize its referent? Does it imply anything about the time or kind of time of the action? Does it retain its verbal aspect? Here is my conclusion so far, based on the inductive studies I have been able to perform so far: It refers to a character with fixed reference to a past event or action, and portays the individual in light of this even or action. Having read Stanley Porter’s two books on verbal aspect, Buist Fanning’s book on the same topic, Robertson’s Grammar, Smyth’s Grammar, Burton’s Moods and Tenses, Wallace’s Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics, McKay’s New Syntax, Zerwick, Nigel Turner’s Syntax, etc., I came away with the impression that little inductive study has been done on the articular aorist particple as part of the overall referential system. Thus far, J. Boyer, “The Classification of Participles,” in GTJ 5 (1984): 163-79; Smyth (various places); and Burton have been most satisfactory based on what I find.
2. The lexical problem. What is the meaning of blasphemia to begin with? I have been happy with the presentaiton in BDAG and a few other leading lexical works. However, I have been much less than satisfied with what I find in commentaries and such reference works as TDNT. As I have found it, blasphemia refers to a linguistic event. That is, it is a verbal or actional event that is meant to insult another party. Thus, it may be a harsh word (I can cite references from Plato, down to the NT that indicate as much) or an insulting action (as Antiochus Epiphanes was seen to have done). The ultimate biblical example of both aspects was Sennacherib, though Antiochus is a close runner-up (I find him described in similar terms at Qumran). Another point: blasphemia as an action is not to be confused with adjectival or nominal cognates. This is where most commentators go wrong. They confuse the term “blasphemer” or “blasphemy” with the verbal form. However, in the ancient literature, there is a gap between these uses. This holds true even in Aramaic and Hebrew parallels, and Qumran sees the invention of a new word to describe “a blasphemer” (typically with reference to Antiochus as an archetypical figure).

Little more can be said in this forum, but I will draw some conclusions here. First, the referent is one who has committed an action (verbal or actional). Second, the action is linguistically based (insult, gesture, etc.). Third, the referent is an outsider, not a believer (this is based on further narrative studies in Luke). In the end, I believe the kind of person Luke 12:10 means to portray is socially superior leaders (Jew or Gentile) who insult the Holy Spirit working in the apostles (a key Lukan theological construct). Though I can add little more at this time, I would point to the two places in Acts where those in the synagogue are said to blaspheme (blasphemia) Paul — and note his reaction!

Posted at http://www.bsw.org/project/filologia. Inside you will find the following: 

• Jody A. Barnard, “Is Verbal Aspect a Prominence Indicator? An Evaluation of Stanley Porter’s Proposal with Special Reference to the Gospel of Luke.”
• Adelbert Denaux, “Style and Stylistcs, with Special Reference to Luke.”
• Paul Danove, “Verbs of Transference and Their Derivatives of Motion and State in the New Testament: a Study of Focus and Perspective.”
• David Pastorelli, “La Formule Johannique tauta lalaleke umin (Jn 14,25; 15,11; 16,1.4.6.25.33). Un Exemple de Parfait Transitif.”
• Duncan and M. Derrett, “Enokos (Mt 5, 21-22) and the Jurisprudence of Heaven.”
• Josep Rius-Camps and Jenny Read-Heimerdinger, “The Variant Readings of the Western Text of the Acts of the Apostels (XVIIII) (Acts 13:1-12).”
• “John C. Poirier, «’Day and Night’ and the Sabbath Controversy of John 9.”

I will be teaching my course on the Gospel of Matthew at a seminary in Romania. I look forward to this opportunity to share this book with others!