On the Jewish calendar, today (August 9, 2011) marks Tisha B’Av (the ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av), a day of fasting and mourning within the Jewish community remembering the destructions of the First and Second Temples.  On the ninth of Av, the walls of Jerusalem were breached in 587 B.C., which led to the destruction of the First Temple by the Babylonians, and on the same day in A.D. 70, the Romans destroyed the Second Temple built by Herod the Great.

The destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans profoundly impacted Judaism and the history of Jerusalem—its religious expression as well as social classes.  In the wake of the destruction of the Temple, the Jewish people began to fast as a sign of mourning the loss of the Temple as the heart of Jewish religious practice and worship: “When the Second Temple was destroyed, the Pharisees proliferated in Israel and they did not eat meat or drink wine” (t. Sotah 15:11; cf. b. Baba Batra 60b).  The lamentation for the destroyed Temple also became remembered even during times when the community was called upon to rejoice, particularly at weddings.  Anyone who has seen Fiddler on the Roof knows that the breaking of a glass is part of a Jewish marriage ceremony.  The purpose of the broken glass is to remind the wedding party and guests of the sadness of the destruction of the Temple.  The infringement of the sorrow brought about by the destruction of the Second Temple and Jerusalem into Jewish wedding ceremonies is quite ancient:

“During the war of Vespasian (First Jewish Revolt: A.D. 66-73), they forbade the crowns of the bridegrooms and the [wedding] drum.  During the war of Quietus (A.D. 117), they forbade the crowns of the brides and that a man should teach his son Greek.  In the last war (Bar Kochbah: A.D. 132-135), they forbade the bride to go forth in a litter inside the city; but our Rabbis permitted the bride to go forth in a litter inside the city” (m. Sotah 9:14).

The termination of the joy and celebration of a wedding ceremony because of the destruction of the Temple and Jerusalem harkens back to the period of the First Temple when the prophet Jeremiah in his oracle against the Temple said, “And I will bring to an end the sound of mirth and gladness, the voice of the bride and bridegroom in the cities of Judah and in the streets of Jerusalem; for the land shall become a waste” (Jer. 7:34).  As a result of the destruction of the Second Temple, the Jewish people began to fast—“they did not eat meat or drink wine” (t. Sotah 15:11)—and they prohibited “the crowns of the bridegrooms and the [wedding] drum” (i.e., the wedding celebration; m. Sotah 9:14).  Even today, the destruction of the Second Temple is remembered at every Jewish wedding, the sadness amidst the rejoicing.

According to the book of 1 Maccabees, the profaning actions of Antiochus IV (mid-2^nd century B.C.) against Jerusalem and the sanctuary also elicited a time of mourning from those preparing for marriage, for the sorrow of Jerusalem’s desolation superseded the joyous celebration of marriage:

“He (Antiochus IV) went up against Israel and came to Jerusalem with a strong force. He arrogantly entered the sanctuary and took the golden altar, the lampstand for light, and all its utensils…Taking them all, he went into his own land. He shed much blood, and spoke with great arrogance. Israel mourned deeply in every community, rulers and elders groaned, young women and young men became faint, the beauty of women faded. Every bridegroom took up the lament; she who sat in the bridal chamber was mourning. Even the land trembled for its inhabitants and all the house of Jacob was clothed in shame…On every side of the sanctuary they shed innocent blood; they even defiled the sanctuary. Because of them the residents of Jerusalem fled; she became a dwelling of strangers; she became strange to her offspring, and her children forsook her. Her sanctuary became desolate like a desert; her feasts were turned into mourning, her Sabbaths into a reproach, her honor into contempt. Her dishonor now grew as great as her glory; her exaltation was turned into mourning” (1 Macc. 1:20-40; emphasis added).

Within Jewish tradition, fasting is a sign of mourning and repentance.  After the destruction of the Second Temple, people began to fast as a sign of mourning and to repent in anticipation of God’s future rebuilding of the Temple, as expressed in the blessing for Jerusalem in the Ninth of Av service, “For you, Lord, lighted it (the Second Temple) with fire, and with fire you will build it, in future days” (cf. t. Baba Batra 2:17).  There were those living during the days of the Second Temple, however, who viewed its destruction as inevitable, and thus, they fasted and mourned for the Temple as if it were already destroyed while it still stood.

The Qumran community, who authored the Dead Sea Scrolls, viewed the Second Temple as illegitimate, and therefore, rejected it perceiving Jerusalem as also defiled.  They awaited a future time when God would purify Jerusalem under their leadership and establish an eschatological temple removing the current temple, which is fundamentally flawed (11Q19 29:7-10; cf. Jubilees 1:27-29).  During this present period when they were forced to live in exile, a period they termed the “days of the rule of Belial” (1QS 2:19), they lived in a state of perpetual mourning and fasting until the time when God would purge Jerusalem and its flawed temple of the corruption within it.  Josephus describes their austere meals, “When they [the Essenes] have taken their seats in silence, the baker serves out the loaves to them in order, and the cook sets before each one plate with a single course…they speak in turn, each making way for his neighbor. To persons outside the silence of those within appears like some awful mystery; it is in fact due to their invariable sobriety and to the limitation of their allotted portions of meat and drink to the demands of nature” (War 2:130, 133).

Among the Dead Sea Scrolls was discovered a poem to Jerusalem (11Q5), which reminds her of her future hope when her sorrows will be no more and the men of violence and iniquity will be banished from her.

“May your memory be blessed forever! Great is your hope, O Zion, that peace and your longed-for salvation will come. Generation after generation will dwell in you and generations of pious ones will be your glorious beauty: those who yearn for the day of your salvation, that they may exult in the greatness of your glory…How they have hoped for your salvation, your perfect ones have mourned for you” (11Q5 22:2-8; emphasis added).

This hymn came from groups who, prior to Jerusalem’s destruction, looked forward to a time when her future glory would be revealed and her sorrows would be no more.  In the present era, those looking for her future glory remain in mourning, until their mourning will be turned into rejoicing: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (Matt. 5:4; cf. t. Baba Batra 2:17; Pesikta Rabbati 34).  It was to these pious circles that Simeon and Anna (Luke 2:25-38) belonged.  Simeon looked for the “consolation of Israel” (cf. b. Makkot 5b; b. Sanhedrin 37b), which refers to the hope of a future redemption; Anna, who lived in a perpetual state of fasting (Luke 2:37), was looking for the “redemption of Jerusalem.”  The “consolation of Israel” and the “redemption of Jerusalem” are essentially the same thing, i.e., the future redemption of Zion (cf. the coins minted during the First Jewish Revolt and the Bar Kochbah Revolt that bore the legends “the liberation of Zion,” “the redemption of Zion,” and “the redemption of Jerusalem”).  Anna displayed her current status as one “mourning” for Zion through her perpetual fasting, prior to the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple.  Although these mourn during the present era, in the future, God will turn their mourning into rejoicing, comforting them with the redemption of Zion (Matt. 5:3): “Concerning those who sigh, who grieve, who look forward to salvation, who mourn for Jerusalem, Scripture declares, ‘To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion to give them a garland of ashes’ (Isa. 61:3)” (Derekh Eretz Rabbah 2:20).

Just prior to the destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70, one of the Sages, a priest, named Rabbi Zaddok came to accept the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple as a foregone conclusion.  In response, he assumed a position of perpetual mourning by remaining in a state of constant fasting consuming one fig a day (Lamentations Rabbah 1:3).  The perpetual fasting of the Qumran community, Anna, the prophetess, and Rabbi Zaddok explains the austere diet of John the Baptist.  John, whose father was a priest and whose mother was “of the daughters of Aaron,” was by birth a priest, yet within the Gospels, he has rejected his priestly position and taken up a prophetic role “preparing the way of the Lord” (Luke 1:76; 3:2-6; John 1:23).  John’s appearance “in the wilderness” attests to his rejection of his priestly position as does his message, for in his preaching of the “one who is to come,” he anticipates the “coming one” to “clear his threshing floor,” a likely allusion to the Temple, the most famous threshing floor in Jewish history (2 Sam. 24:18).  John expected the one coming to cleanse the Temple and it’s priesthood; thus, he too lived in a state of perpetual fasting and mourning as others who saw the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple as inevitable.

It was in response to a question about John and his disciples’ frequent fasts that Jesus offered a cryptic statement directly related to the fasting of the Jewish community on the Ninth of Av.  Some came to Jesus and asked, “The disciples of John fast often…but yours eat and drink.”  Jesus replied, “Can you make the wedding guests fast while the bridegroom is with them? The days are coming, when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast in those days” (Luke 5:33-35).  Most commentators assume that Jesus’ mention of the bridegroom refers to himself as the Messiah; however, within Jewish tradition, the bridegroom never refers to the Messiah.  As we have seen, the connection between fasting and the bridegroom always pertains to the destruction of Jerusalem and its sanctuary.  Josephus mentions a certain Jesus, the son of Ananias, who, “Four years before the war, when the city was enjoying profound peace and prosperity, there came to the feast at which it is the custom of all Jews to erect tabernacles to God…a rude peasant, who standing in the temple, suddenly began to cry out, ‘A voice from the east, a voice from the west, a voice from the four winds; a voice against Jerusalem and the sanctuary, a voice against the bridegroom and the bride (cf. Jer. 7:34), a voice against all the people’” (War 6:301).  For his prophecy against the Temple, Jesus, the son of Ananias, was beaten by the chief priests and brought before the Roman governor, who likewise had him scourged.

Within the Gospel of Luke, whenever the phrase “the days are coming” appears it is always within the context of Jesus’ prediction of the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple.  Jesus of Nazareth was one of many who foresaw the destruction of Jerusalem and the Second Temple (Luke 21:5-9, 20-24, 28-32), yet Jesus rejected the austerity of John the Baptist and the Qumran community, who perpetually fasted even while the Temple (the bridegroom) still stood.  Early in Jesus’ ministry he held out hope that the people would repent and embrace his teaching of mutual love (Luke 4:16-30); in other words, while John and his disciples viewed the Temple’s destruction as a foregone conclusion, Jesus said as long as it stands there remains hope; nevertheless, unfortunately “the days will come when the bridegroom is taken away.”  By the end of his ministry, Jesus saw Jerusalem’s destruction as inevitable due to the rejection of his message (Luke 19:41-44)—the bridegroom would be taken away: the Temple destroyed.

Among the early Church fathers the destruction of Jerusalem and the Second Temple symbolized God’s rejection of the Jewish people and their replacement by the Church.  Jesus’ statement, however, shows that he expected his followers to maintain their solidarity with the Jewish people, for “the days will come, when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast in those days.”  Jesus rejected the austere, ascetic lifestyle of John and others, like the Qumran community, who mourned in the present, for now is the “year of the Lord’s favor” (Luke 4:16-30)—a time for rejoicing.  He did, however, expect that his followers would mourn the destruction of the Temple upon its destruction as his Jewish brothers would.  In this manner, Jesus assumed his disciples would mirror the actions of Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai, a Sage who lived during the time of the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans.  Prior to Jerusalem’s destruction, Yohanan ben Zakkai, who also predicted the destruction of the Temple (b. Yoma 39b), waited to see what would happen, but upon the destruction of the Temple and the city, “he rose and tore his clothes, removed his phylacteries, and sat down to mourn with his disciples” (Avot deRabbi Nathan, version B, 7).

Like many of his contemporaries, Jesus did not see the destruction of the Temple as the end; he saw that God would restore the fortunes of the Jewish people (Luke 21:28-31; Matt. 26:61).  Jesus, the prophet, saw a time when the bridegroom would be removed, but he also encouraged his followers, “Now when these things begin to take place, look up…because your redemption is drawing near” (Luke 21:28).  After the destruction of Jerusalem, many yearned for a time when God would restore his people and the Temple, as reflected in the blessing cited on the Ninth of Av, “For you, Lord, lighted it (the Second Temple) with fire, and with fire you will build it, in future days.”  The author of 4 Ezra writing after the destruction of Jerusalem summarized this yearning in a vision:

“When I said these things in my heart, I looked around, and on my right I saw a woman; she was mourning and weeping with a loud voice, and was deeply grieved at heart; her clothes were torn, and there were ashes on her head…I…turned to her and said to her, “Why are you weeping, and why are you grieved at heart?”…And she said to me, “Your servant was barren and had no child, though I lived with my husband for thirty years…And after thirty years God heard your servant, and looked upon my low estate…and gave me a son.  I rejoiced greatly over him…And I brought him up with much care.  So when he grew up and I came to take a wife for him, I set a day for the marriage feast.  But it happened that when my son entered his wedding chamber, he fell down and died…I got up in the night and fled, and I came to this field, as you see…I will neither eat nor drink, but will mourn and fast continually until I die”…So I spoke again to her, and said, “…let yourself be persuaded—for how many are the adversities of Zion?—and be consoled because of the sorrow of Jerusalem.  For you see how our sanctuary has been laid waste, our altar thrown down, our temple destroyed; our harp has been laid low, our song has been silenced, and our rejoicing has been ended; the light of our lampstand has been put out…”  While I was talking to her, her face suddenly began to shine exceedingly; her countenance flashed like lightning…When I looked up, the woman was no longer visible to me, but a city was being built, and a place of huge foundations showed itself…He [the angel Uriel] answered me [Ezra] and said, “Listen to me, and I will teach you, and tell you about the things that you fear…He [God] has seen…that you have sorrowed continually for your people and mourned greatly over Zion.  This therefore is the meaning of the vision…The woman whom you saw is Zion, which you now behold as a city being built.  And as for her telling you that she was barren for thirty years, the reason is that there were three thousand years in the world before any offering was offered in it.  And after three thousand years Solomon built the city, and offered offerings…And as for her saying to you, ‘My son died as he entered his wedding chamber’…this was the destruction that befell Jerusalem” (4 Ezra 9:38-10:59).

Tags: Destruction of Jerusalem, Jesus, The Bridegroom, Tisha B'Av

The recent publication of the “Mariam, daughter of Yeshua” ossuary[1] has once again drawn attention to the family of the high priest Caiaphas, who was instrumental in the execution of Jesus (cf. Matt. 26:3, 57; John 11:49; 18:13, 14, 24, 28; Acts 4:6; cf. also Luke 3:2).  In my last post I discussed the role of the chief priests, led by the high priest Caiaphas, in the execution of Jesus, specifically the connection between the Sadducees, their history, and the cry of “Crucify” which they uttered before Pilate against Jesus.  The recent publication of an ossuary inscription of Miriam, the granddaughter of Caiaphas, sheds interesting light on the family of Caiaphas and his involvement in the death of Jesus.

From the Israel Antiquities Authority Press release:

“Three years ago the Israel Antiquities Authority Unit for the Prevention of Antiquities Robbery acquired a decorated ossuary bearing an engraved inscription. The ossuary was discovered by antiquities robbers who plundered an ancient Jewish tomb of the Second Temple period. During the course of the investigation it was determined that the ossuary came from a burial cave in the area of the Valley of ’Elah, in the Judean Shephelah.

To check the authenticity of the artifact and the significance of the engraved inscription, the Israel Antiquities Authority turned to Dr. Boaz Zissu of the Department of the Land of Israel Studies and Archaeology of Bar Ilan University and Professor Yuval Goren of the Department of Archaeology and Ancient Near Eastern Civilizations of the Tel Aviv University.

This week, the two scientists published the results of their research, which summarize the importance of the find and confirm its genuineness. The study appears in the Israel Exploration Journal (Volume 61) published this week by the Israel Exploration Society.

Ossuaries are small stone chests that Jews used for secondary burial of bones; they were quite common in tombs in Israel from the late first century BCE until the beginning of the second century CE. The front of the ossuary that was found is decorated with a stylized floral motif above which is a long Aramaic inscription engraved in Jewish script…[see rest here]”

A high-resolution image of the ossuary is available here.  A video report on the ossuary and an interview with Dr. Boaz Zissu can be seen here.

The initial publication of the inscription read it as [Click here to continue reading]

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[1] B. Zissu and Y. Goren, “The Ossuary of ‘Miriam Daughter of Yeshua Son of Caiaphas, Priests [of] Ma’aziah from Beth ‘Imri’,” IEJ 61 (2011): 74-95.

Tags: Caiaphas, Death of Jesus, Jesus, Miriam Ossuary, New Testament

This past Sunday began Holy Week for millions of Christians around the world, a time
when Christians remember and reflect on the last days and hours of Jesus. Holy Week
begins with Palm Sunday, which remembers Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem (Matt. 21:1-9;
Mark 11:1-10; Luke 19:28-40; and John 12:12-19). At some point in their lives, most
Christians have heard a sermon proclaiming that, “The crowds that cried, ‘Hosanna’ on
Palm Sunday cried, ‘Crucify’ on Good Friday.” Usually this statement is used to
demonstrate the fickleness of the Jewish people and to support the mistaken Christian
idea that the Jewish people rejected Jesus. Even though this common Christian
characterization does not agree with the testimony of the New Testament, it continues to
be a prominent component of Christian preaching during Holy Week. Who then were the
crowds that stood before Pilate crying out for the death of Jesus? Click here to continue reading

According to the Acts of the Apostles, the followers of Jesus remained in Jerusalem frequently visiting the Temple (cf. Acts 3:1).  Luke records that on “the day of Pentecost” (the biblical feast of weeks, Shavuot, cf. Exodus 34:22; Num. 28:26), the followers of Jesus gathered together, but he does not specify the location of their gathering.  Christian tradition has identified the location for the gathering of the disciples on the day of Pentecost as the same place where Jesus and his disciples celebrated the Passover meal, his “Last Supper,” within the upper city of Jerusalem.  These traditions, however, do not predate the Byzantine period.  The genesis for this assumption lies in the description of the location of the Last Supper in a “large upper room” (ανάγαιον: Luke 22:12; Mark 14:15) and place where the disciples gathered after the ascension of Jesus mentioned in Acts, an “upper room” (υπερωον: 1:13).  Even if the room of the Last Supper was the same “upper room” in Acts 1 where the disciples met, the second chapter of Acts begins with a Hebraic-styled narrative break, “And when the day of Pentecost came,” which separates what follows from everything that had previously occurred.[1] In other words, the followers of Jesus have moved in time and location from the first chapter of Acts when the second chapter of Acts opens.

According to the Gospel of Luke, after the ascension of Jesus, his disciples remained in Jerusalem and “were continually in the temple blessing God” (24:52-53).  Clearly they did not interpret any of Jesus’ actions leading up to and including his crucifixion as either rejecting the temple or rendering it obsolete.  Therefore, when we ask where the disciples of Jesus were on the day of Pentecost, we should assume that they participated in the pilgrimage festival of Pentecost in accordance with the commandment of God: “Three times a year all your males shall appear before the Lord your God at the place which he will choose: at the feast of unleavened bread (Passover), at the feast of weeks (Pentecost), and at the feast of booths (Sukkot)…” (Deut. 16:16).  According to Josephus, the population of Jerusalem swelled at Pentecost as Jewish pilgrims came from all over the countryside (War 1:253).  Luke also indicates that numbers of Jewish pilgrims gathered in Jerusalem for the festival of Pentecost: “Parthians and Medes and Elamites and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome” (Acts 2:9-11).

The amazement of these crowds of pilgrims at what they saw and heard led Peter to stand and address the crowd (Acts 2:14-39) recounting the events of the death and resurrection of Jesus.  Peter identified that which the pilgrims had seen and heard from the disciples as the “pouring out” of the Holy Spirit signifying the advent of the Messianic era and called upon the crowds “to repent and be baptized in the name of Jesus” (Acts 2:38).  The crowd of pilgrims who heard the disciples, Peter’s discourse to the crowds, as well as the response of 3,000 people “to repent and be baptized in the name of Jesus” (Acts 2:41), suggests a public setting for the events recounted in Acts 2, not an “upper room” somewhere in Jerusalem.  The most practical setting for such a series of events on the festival of Pentecost would be in the vicinity of the Temple.[2]

The only setting within Jerusalem that could handle the ritual immersion of 3,000 people was the ritual immersion pools, miqva’ot, at the southern, pilgrim’s entrance to the Temple Mount.  These ritual pools serviced those entering the Temple (cf. Luke 2:22; Acts 21:24), and there were enough to accommodate the masses of pilgrims that converged on the Temple during the festivals.  On the festival of Pentecost, the area around the Temple provided the crowds for Peter’s audience and the setting that could accommodate the ritual immersion, baptism, of 3,000 people.

Furthermore, the mention of a “rush of a mighty wind” that “filled all the house where they were sitting” (Acts 2:2) may hint at the location for the events recounted in Acts 2.  In Hebrew, the most common term used to refer to the Temple is “house” (בית).  The Temple Mount is referred to as הבית הר (lit. “the mountain of the house”; cf. m. Bikkurim 3:4).  At this point within the Greek narrative of Acts, Luke often preserves Hebraic-styled syntax and idiom.  His narrative mention of the “house” in which the disciples sat quite likely reflects this Hebrew idiom referring to the Temple, which is where one would expect to find Jesus’ disciples on the festival of Pentecost as well as the crowds they encounter.

When the Temple stood, the Jewish people identified it as the dwelling place of God’s presence, i.e., His Holy Spirit; thus, it makes perfect sense that the manifestation of the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost would occur in relationship with the Temple in Jerusalem (cf. Joel 3:5).  Moreover, Jewish tradition believed that the Holy Spirit manifested itself among those sitting together (Acts 2:2) studying Torah (cf. m. Avot 3:2; and b. Berachot 6a).  During the days of the Second Temple, the Temple served as a center for the study of the Torah (cf. Antiquities 17:140-163; Luke 2:48-49, 21:37; t. Sanhedrin 7:1; t. Hagigah 2:9; m. Yoma 7:1; m. Sotah 7:7-8; and b. Pesahim 26a), and perhaps this was the context for the manifestation of the Holy Spirit described in Acts 2 (cf. m. Bikkurim 1:6; t. Sotah 15:12).  According to Jewish tradition, God gave Moses the Torah on the festival of Pentecost (cf. Jubilees 1:1),[3] which explains the appearance of many of the Sinai motifs, e.g., fire, wind, and languages,[4] in Luke’s description of the manifestation of the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost.  Given how Peter and the New Testament interpreted the events that happened on the day of Pentecost, the only natural location for these events to take place was the Temple in Jerusalem.

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[1] F. Blass and A. Debrunner, A Greek Grammar of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1975), 208.

[2] Cf. A. F. Rainey and R. Steven Noltey, The Sacred Bridge (Jerusalem: Carta, 2006), 370.

[3] Jewish tradition identifies Pentecost as the day upon which David was born and died (Ruth Rabbah 1:17; y. Bezah 2, 61b; cf. Acts 2:29).

[4] The school of Rabbi Ishmael interpreted the verse, “And like a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces” (Jer. 23:29) as “Just as a hammer is divided into many sparks, so every single word that went forth from the Holy One (i.e., at Sinai), blessed be He, split up into seventy languages (i.e., the languages of the nations of the world; cf. Acts 2:5-11)” (b. Shabbath 88b).

I was recently asked to write a collection of articles for an Israeli Guide publication and would like to share them with you as well. In this first article we will discuss Christian tradition for placement of the baptism of Jesus.

Christian tradition and modern scholarship have identified the lower Jordan Valley in the vicinity of Jericho along the Jordan River as the location for John the Baptist’s ministry.  Although several sites compete as the traditional location for John’s baptism of Jesus (including a site on the eastside of the Jordan River in the modern country of Jordan), John’s placement in the desert of the lower Jordan Valley north of the Dead Sea remains the general consensus.  A careful reading of the Gospel accounts, however, reveals that the Gospels themselves do not provide a geographic consensus as to the location of John’s baptism of Jesus, and there is, in fact, little evidence within the Gospels for Jesus’ baptism within the southern stretches of the Jordan River.

A primary problem with John’s baptizing in the Jordan River south of the Sea of Galilee is the issue of ritual purity.  According to rabbinic opinion, the waters of the Jordan flowing out of the lake of Galilee and the Yarmuk were unsuitable for ritual immersion because they were “mixed waters:” “The waters of the Jordan and the waters of the Yarmuk are defective because they are mixed waters…and [the waters from] the cave of Panias (i.e., the headwaters of the Jordan) are kosher” (m. Parah 8:10-11).[1] Because the Jordan River south of the Sea of Galilee, into which the Yarmuk flows from Transjordan, received water from tributaries of questionable purity, they were deemed unsuitable for ritual immersion.  Rabbinic opinion, however, considered the water of the Jordan north of the lake of Galilee kosher for ritual immersion.  This rabbinic opinion fits with the absence of any mention of the practice of ritual immersion in the Jordan River south of the lake during the days of the Second Temple.

Jesus’ participation in John’s baptism appears in all four Gospels (Matt. 3:13-17; Mark 1:9-11; Luke 3:21-22; John 1:29-34).  So too, all of the Gospels describe John’s ministry citing Isaiah 40:3: “The voice of one crying: in the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord…”  John, like the Qumran community (1QS 8:13-14), believed that preparing the “way of the Lord” should occur “in the wilderness” (במדבר).  His appearance “in the wilderness” (Matt. 3:1; Mark 1:4; Luke 3:2; and John 1:23) led the Evangelists’ to identify his ministry as the eschatological fulfillment of Isaiah 40: John was the voice crying, heralding the coming of God.

Mark relates that John appeared “in the wilderness” (Mark 1:4: εν τη ερήμω); however, he did not identify the location of the wilderness.  So too, Luke mentions that the “word of God” came to John “in the wilderness” (Luke 3:2), without specifying where the wilderness was.  The Greek term ερήμος (“wilderness”), like its Hebrew equivalent מדבר, does not necessarily specify an arid, uninhabitable place, i.e., a desert.  Both the Greek and Hebrew terms can mean uninhabited pastureland used by the residents of a nearby village,[2] e.g., the “wilderness of Bethsaida” (Luke 9:10-12), which lies on the northeast corner of the lake of Galilee where Mark mentions there was “green grass” (Mark 6:39; cf. also Luke 8:29; Gen. 21:14; Joel 2:2; Isa. 42:11).  Adding to the geographic ambivalence of where John baptized Jesus, Luke mentions that after the word of God came to John in the wilderness, he went “into all the region about the Jordan” (εις πασαν περίχωρον του Ιορδάνου) preaching a “baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Luke 3:3). This suggests that John moved around the Jordan Rift Valley and did not remain in one spot (cf. also John 1:28 and 3:23).

In connection with citing Isaiah 40:3 to describe John’s appearance in the wilderness, Mark mentions that the crowds going out to be baptized by John came from “all the country of Judea” and Jerusalem (1:5).  These geographic details about John’s crowds have led many to locate John within the arid regions of the lower Jordan Valley.  It is not clear, however, that Mark intended his mention of the origins of the crowds to identify the location of the wilderness where John appeared.  Elsewhere within Mark (and Matthew), Jesus, while in Galilee, encounters individuals from Jerusalem and Judea (Matt. 4:25, 15:1; Mark 3:8, 22, and 7:1); therefore, merely mentioning that the crowds came from “all Judea” and Jerusalem does not necessarily imply John is in the lower Jordan Valley.  Furthermore, Mark’s description of John’s crowds as coming from Judea and Jerusalem likely came from his desire to highlight the eschatological role of John as the voice of Isaiah 40, who was to announce the coming of God to Jerusalem and the cities of Judah (Isa. 40:9).[3] Thus, Mark’s mention of the crowds from “all Judea” and Jerusalem underscored his conviction that John was the voice of Isaiah 40.

This same impulse may also account for Matthew’s very peculiar placement of John’s appearance “in the wilderness of Judea” (Matt. 3:1).  Although many familiar with the modern geography of Israel routinely use the toponym “wilderness of Judea (Judah)” (יהודה מדבר) to refer to the region east of the hill country of Judah toward the western shores of the Dead Sea including the environs of Jericho—the large Cenonian chalk zone of the rain shadow, east of the watershed, few recognize that Matthew’s toponym “wilderness of Judea” never appears in any contemporary, ancient literature written in Greek, Hebrew, Aramaic, or Latin.  Even within the Hebrew Bible, the “wilderness of Judah” (יהודה מדבר)[4] only appears in Judges 1:16[5] where the region is defined as the land “which is in the south (בנגב) of Arad.”[6] Within the biblical period, the large territory that is today referred to as the “wilderness of Judah” was identified as segments of steppe-land (מדברות) connected to the closest hill country town, e.g., “the wilderness of Ziph” (1 Sam. 23:14), “the wilderness of Maon” (1 Sam. 23:24-28; cf. LXX 1 Sam. 25:1), and “the wilderness of Ein Gedi” (1 Sam. 24:1)—all areas in which David wandered.  Just like the biblical toponym “Negev,” which referred only to the Arad-Beersheva basin, and has been expanded within modern geography to refer to the land south of the Judean hill country all the way to the Gulf of Elat, the biblical “wilderness of Judah” has been expanded in modern usage to include the Cenonian chalk zone of the eastern watershed of the Judean hill country down to the shores of the Dead Sea including the arid environs of Jericho.

Most significant, however, for the question of John the Baptist’s location is the complete absence of the toponym “wilderness of Judea” in literature of the Greco-Roman period, even among the ancient geographers of Judea, e.g., Josephus and Pliny.  Moreover, “wilderness of Judea” never appears in rabbinic literature, nor does it appear within the Dead Sea Scrolls—whose authors used Isaiah 40 as justification to move their community into the wilderness, the very wilderness that is today called the “wilderness of Judea.”  Matthew provides the only ancient witness to this toponym, which raises the question whether the genesis for Matthew’s “wilderness of Judea” resulted from the creative impulse of the Evangelist.

Elsewhere in his Gospel Matthew bears witness to the Christian toponym the “Sea of Galilee,” which originated from the creative, theological desire of the early Christian community to define the locus of Jesus’ ministry as a fulfillment of Isaiah 9:1.[7] Matthew’s singular witness to the toponym “wilderness of Judea” appears immediately before his citation of Isaiah 40:3, which seems hardly coincidental.  As already mentioned, the Gospels identified John as the voice crying from Isaiah 40:3 because of John’s location in the wilderness.  Within the larger context of Isaiah 40, the voice crying is identified as “one bringing good news” (מבשר), who announces to Jerusalem and the “cities of Judah” (40:9), “Behold your God.”  Matthew creatively combined the “wilderness” and “Judah” of Isaiah 40 to define the locus of John’s ministry thus placing him “in the wilderness of Judea.”  He developed the toponym “wilderness of Judea” in order to make a theological point that John’s ministry fulfilled the mission of the voice from Isaiah 40.  Mark quite possibly was motivated by a similar impulse and thus included the locations from where John’s crowds came, i.e., Jerusalem and Judah (Isaiah 40:9).[8] The influence of Isaiah 40 upon Mark and Matthew’s description of John’s appearance is principally responsible for the Christian traditions that locate Jesus’ baptism in the arid desert of the lower Jordan Valley.  The geographical details introduced into the Evangelists’ descriptions of the locus of John’s ministry were not intended to identify the location of Jesus’ participation in John’s baptism, but to promote their identification of John as the fulfillment as the eschatological prophetic voice (Isa. 40:3).  To this point, modern readers often overlook the fact that when both Matthew and Mark describe the baptism of Jesus neither Gospel writer places the event in the lower Jordan Valley; rather, each account seems to place the event along the Jordan within close proximity to Galilee: “In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan” (Mark 1:9; Matt. 3:13).

John’s Gospel provides some unique geographical details regarding the location of John the Baptist’s ministry.  According to the fourth Gospel, John baptized people “in Bethany beyond the Jordan” (John 1:28).  The phrase “beyond the Jordan” simply refers to the land on the eastern side of the Jordan River, in Transjordan (cf. Isa. 9:1).  John’s singular mention of a site “Bethany” (Βηθανία) in the Transjordan created problems for the Church fathers and Christian pilgrims because they did not know where exactly to locate John the Baptist.  Therefore, even though the manuscripts of John’s Gospel preserved the reading “Bethany,” the Church father Origen (c. 200 C.E.) proposed a textual emendation to John 1:28 to read “Bethabara” (Βηθαβαρά), substituting a known site for an unknown.  Origen’s change was embraced a century later by Eusebius in his Onomasticon (58:18) and was reflected in the Medeba Map, which depicts “Bethabara, the sanctuary of Saint John the Baptist” on the western side of the Jordan River, not as described by John’s Gospel as “beyond (i.e., on the east side) the Jordan.”[9]

Several have suggested that “Bethany” in John’s Gospel does not refer to a specific village but to a region “Batanea” (Βαταναία), the biblical Bashan in the Transjordan, which the Septuagint identifies as “beyond the Jordan” (Deut. 4:47; Josh. 9:10).[10] The Aramaic Targums rendered Bashan as בתניי (Targum Neofiti Deuteronomy 32:14; cf. Targum Pseudo-Jonathan Deuteronomy 33:22), which is equivalent to the Greek Βηθανία (“Bethany”).[11] Biblical Bashan stretched from the foothills of Mount Hermon to the Lower Golan and was known as Batanea to the ancient Greek writers (Josephus, Life 54; Antiquities 9:159; and Eusebius, Onomasticon 44:9-11).  If John’s “Bethany beyond the Jordan” referred to the first century “Batanea” known from Josephus, the biblical region of Bashan, then John’s activity extended into the area northeast of the lake of Galilee.  Although John did not apparently stay in one place (cf. Luke 3:3), locating his baptism of Jesus northeast of the lake of Galilee, perhaps in the region of Bethsaida not too far from where the Jordan flows into the lake, makes sense out of Jesus’ encounter with Andrew, Peter, and Philip, who all came from Bethsaida (John 1:40-44), the day after his baptism.  The traditional location of Jesus’ baptism in the vicinity of Jericho cannot reconcile Jesus’ meeting with these future disciples near to Bethsaida after his baptism.

Locating the center of John’s ministry in the north places him in proximity to Herod Antipas, who was threatened by John’s preaching and his popularity with the people (Matt. 14:3-5; Josephus, Ant. 18:118).  John’s criticism of Herod Antipas, who was tetrarch of Galilee, led to his imprisonment and execution by Antipas.  The Gospels record (Matt. 14:3-12; Mark 17:29) that John’s execution occurred after the birthday party of Herod Antipas, which was attended by “his high officials, officers, and leading men of Galilee” (Mark 6:21).  Mark’s identification of some of the attendees of Herod’s birthday party as “leading men of Galilee” suggests a Galilean setting for the event, probably the capital of Galilee, Tiberias.  Although Josephus identified Machaereus, a stronghold in the Transjordan, as the place of John’s imprisonment and execution, he seems to have been mistaken on this detail and actually did not know the location where John died.  Josephus apparently misidentified Machaereus as the location of John’s execution due to his previous mention of the fortress in connection with Herod Antipas’ first wife, the daughter of the Nabatean king Aretas IV (Ant. 18:111-112).[12] Upon learning of Antipas’ adulterous affair with Herodias the wife of Antipas’ brother Herod and the plans of Antipas to divorce her in order to marry Herodias, the Nabatean princess returned herself to her father’s kingdom via Machaereus, which was located on the border between Antipas and Aretas (Ant. 18:111).  According to Josephus, at this time, Machaereus was under the control of her father Aretas, king of the Nabateans: “Some time earlier she herself had dispatched messengers to Machaerus, which was at that time subject to her father…” (Ant. 18:112).  Josephus mentions John the Baptist, his ministry and subsequent death (Ant. 18:116-119), within his description of Herod’s divorce of the daughter of Aretas and Aretas’ subsequent war with Antipas, which ended in his defeat (Ant. 18:113-114).  It is this earlier mention of Machaerus, which served as a place of refuge for the Nabatean princess that led Josephus to mistakenly identify Machaerus as the place of John’s imprisonment and execution.  Moreover, Antipas’ execution of John at Machaereus seems unlikely if, as Josephus mentions, at that time Machaereus was under the control of Aretas.

Recognizing the problems with Josephus’ identification of Machaerus as the place where John the Baptist was executed, Mark’s mention of “leading men of Galilee” in attendance at Antipas’ birthday party suggests a northern, Galilean location for John’s execution.  The most likely place for these events to take place, Tiberias, the capital of Galilee.[13] If John were located in the lower Jordan Valley, in the vicinity of Jericho, then his conflict with Antipas and the trouble that Antipas feared from John’s popularity with the crowds makes little sense. A northern location for John’s activity makes him a much more legitimate threat to Antipas and justifies Antipas’ fear of his influence with the people (Ant. 18:118).

The Gospels may further witness to John’s ministry in the region northeast of the lake of Galilee, for upon hearing that John had been executed (Matt. 14:13), Jesus withdrew to the “wilderness of Bethsaida” (Luke 9:10; Mark 6:32; Matt. 14:13; John 6:1), the fertile plain on the northeast corner of the lake, and encountered a large crowd (Ant. 18:118).  Upon experiencing the miraculous feeding, the crowd perceived, “This is indeed the prophet who is come into the world” (John 6:14; Mark 6:34; cf. Num. 27:17; Deut. 18:18), instead of John.  This may be the original setting for John’s fragmentary comment: “He went away again across the Jordan (i.e., beyond the Jordan) to the place where John at first baptized, and there he remained. And many came to him; and they said, ‘John did no sign, but everything that John said about this man was true.’ And many believed in him there” (John 10:40-42).[14]

Be well!

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[1] Cf. A. F. Rainey and R. S. Notley, The Sacred Bridge: Carta’s Atlas of the Biblical World (Jerusalem: Carta, 2006), 350-351.

[2] H. G. Liddel and R. Scott, A Greek-English Lexicon (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996), 687; W. Koehler-Baumgartner, The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (2 vols.; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2001), 547.

[3] Cf. Rainey and Notley, The Sacred Bridge, 350.

[4] The Septuagint version of Judges (1:16) lacks identifying proper noun “Judah” in the toponymn “wilderness of Judah.”  If the Septuagint version of Judges preserves the original form of the passage, which seems likely, then the toponym “wilderness of Judah” did not appear within the Hebrew Bible.

[5] The toponym “wilderness of Judah” (יהודה מדבר) does appear in the title of Psalm 63 without specifying the geographic parameters of the region.  The generally accepted lateness of the titles given to the psalms makes the appearance of “wilderness of Judah” irrelevant for the question at hand.

[6] Matthew’s “wilderness of Judea” cannot refer to the biblical “wilderness of Judah” and make sense as far as locating John the Baptist’s ministry: 1) the biblical “wilderness of Judah” as defined by Judges 1:16 does not place John within proximity to the Jordan River (cf. Matt. 3:13; Mark 1:9); and 2) the “wilderness of Judah” had to lie within the geographic boundaries of the tribal territory of Judah, which did not include any part of the Jordan River (Joshua 15:1-5).

[7] Notley, “The Sea of Galilee: Development of an Early Christian Toponym,” Journal of Biblical Literature 128:2 (2009): 183-188.

[8] Mark follows a similar literary technique elsewhere in his Gospel, also with reference to John the Baptist.  While Matthew (11:14) and Luke (1:17) clearly identified John as Elijah redivivus (Mal. 4:5 [Heb. 3:23]), Mark omitted any direct mention of John as Elijah returned.  Mark, however, creatively describes the clothing of the Baptist as that of Elijah’s (Mark 1:6; cf. Matt. 3:4; 2 Kings 1:8).  Mark’s primary purpose is not to provide his readers with John’s wardrobe, but to connect John and his prophetic actions with the eschatological role of Elijah returned.

[9] Cf. Rainey and Notley, 350.

[10] J. Lightfoot, A Commentary on the New Testament from the Talmud and Hebraica (Oxford, 1859), 1:327-333; C.R. Conder, “The Site of Bethabara,” PEFQSt 7 (1875): 72-74; idem, “Bethany Beyond the Jordan,” PEFQSt 9 (1877): 184-186; W.H. Brownlee, “John the Baptist in the New Light of Ancient Scrolls,” in K. Stendahl, ed., The Scrolls and the New Testament (New York, 1957), 33-53; R. Riesner, “Bethany beyond the Jordan (John 1:28),” Tyndale Bulletin 38 (1987): 26-33; and Rainey and Notley, 351.

[11] Cf. Conder, n. 10.

[12] D. Flusser, Jesus (3^rd ed.; Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2001), 277-279.

[13] Cf. Flusser, ibid., 278.

[14] Cf. Rainey and Notley, 351.

Over the past two months I have been traveling back and forth to Israel.  My recent flurry of travel to Israel and the advent of the Christmas season have caused me to reflect on the Christmas story.  Every Christmas since my years as a student in Israel, the song of the angels (Luke 2:14) forms a key part of my Christmas experience.  The angelic song encapsulates the entire message of Christmas: “Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, goodwill toward men.”  It embodied the Jewish redemptive hopes of the first century, and significantly, it gave voice to the hope for redemption shared by Jews and Christians through the centuries.  In fact, if we listen carefully this Christmas, past the commercialization and Christmas programs, we can still hear the echo of this song within our day.  We live in challenging days, but the message of the angels that God is active in human affairs and His goodwill is toward all mankind continues to express the redemptive hopes of people everywhere.

In older translations of the angelic song (or if you grew up on the Charlie Brown Christmas), the song expresses a threefold message: 1. Glory to God in the highest, 2. On earth peace, 3. Goodwill toward men.  Most modern translations, which reflect recent scholarly opinion, preserve a twofold hymn: 1. Glory to God in the highest, 2. Peace on earth among men with whom he is pleased.

The difference between these two readings derives from a variant spelling of a Greek word within the manuscripts of Luke’s Gospel.  The threefold angelic proclamation comes from manuscripts containing the Greek word ευδοκία, “goodwill,” in the nominative case: “on earth peace, goodwill toward men.”  The twofold proclamation comes from the reading ευδοκίας.  The addition of the letter sigma (ς: pronounced like the English letter “s”) at the end of the world puts it in the genitive case: “and on earth, peace among men of his will” (emphasis added).  The difference of one letter significantly changes the meaning of the angelic proclamation from God’s goodwill being directed toward all mankind, to his peace resting solely upon those of His will, i.e., the elect.

Recent scholarly opinion has gravitated toward the twofold blessing of the angels based upon the assumption that the Greek manuscripts of Luke that preserve the phrase ανθρώποις ευδοκίας (i.e., the twofold hymn) are the “better” manuscripts.  Scholars have made this judgment partly on the appearance of the Hebrew phrase רצונו בני/אנשי (“men/sons of His will”) in the sectarian Dead Sea Scrolls, which is the Hebrew equivalent of the Greek phrase of the twofold hymn.  Discovered among the library of the Qumran Scrolls was a collection of hymns that have been named the Hodayot (“Thanksgiving Hymns”) because of the common opening “I thank you O Lord…”.  These hymns express the sectarian theological worldview of the Qumran/Essene community.  In one hymn, the author proclaims, “Your [God's] compassion is for all the sons of your will (רצונכה בני), for you have made them know the counsel of your truth, and in the mysteries of your wonder you have given them insight” (1QHa 19:9).  The Qumran sectarians believed in a strict dualism in which the earth was divided among the elect, “the sons of Light,” and the damned, “the sons of Darkness.”  God predetermined which lot one belonged to solely by His will, and His glory was demonstrated by his salvation of the “sons of Light” or His judgment of the “sons of Darkness.”  Within the sectarian scrolls, the Hebrew word רצון (“will”) became a technical term for the sectarian belief of God’s predestination of the righteous and wicked.  The dualism accepted by the Qumran community was connected to their belief that both the “sons of Light” and “sons of Darkness” were predetermined by God, by His will, and not based upon the righteous or wicked actions of the people.  Thus, the “sons of Darkness” acted wickedly in all their ways because they manifested their predetermined status, and vice versa, the “sons of Light” bore witness to their predetermined status because they walked in the way of His will.  This dual predestination led the Qumran community to conclude that God only showed compassion to “the sons of Your will,” i.e., the elect.  The “sons of Darkness” became the objects of God’s glory when He executed judgment against them.

The technical meaning of the word רצון within the sectarian scrolls reflects the theological outlook of the Qumran community that God’s “goodwill” is only directed toward the elect.  Within the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament), the word רצון has a more universal meaning of God’s goodwill.  The theological ideas of cosmic dualism and double predestination accepted by the Qumran community manifested itself in the community’s treatment of those deemed to be “sons of Darkness”: “…to walk perfectly before him (according to) all revealed (laws) at their appointed times, and in order to love all the sons of Light each according to his lot in the Council of God, and to hate all the sons of Darkness each according to his guilt at the vengeance of God” (1QS 1:8-11).  Since God had already selected the sons of Darkness (i.e., those outside the community) for judgment and damnation, they were simply objects for hatred and vengeance.  This is the worldview behind the twofold angelic blessing: “peace among men of His goodwill.”

The threefold angelic proclamation preserved in certain Greek manuscripts of Luke declares a more universal message of God’s goodwill toward all mankind (cf. Luke 2:10), but the question remains as to the origin of the threefold blessing.  All angelic songs recorded within Jewish literature of the Greco-Roman period are based upon two angelic utterances from the Old Testament: Isaiah 6:3, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory,” and Ezekiel 3:12, “Blessed be the glory of the Lord from his place.”  The third benediction of the Shemoneh Esreh (“Eighteen Benedictions”) or Amidah is referred to as the Kedushah (“Sanctification”).  It reads, “May we sanctify Your name in this world as it is sanctified in the highest of heavens as it is written by the hand of your prophet, ‘And each called to the other saying, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.”’”  Jesus echoed the Kedushah in the prayer he taught his disciples to pray: “May Your name be sanctified; may Your kingdom come; may Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven”—“May we sanctify Your name in this world as it is sanctified in the highest of heavens.”  In fact, the first three benedictions of Jesus’ prayer, which are poetically parallel—“May Your name be sanctified, may Your kingdom come, may Your will be done”—likely provided a midrashic expansion of the threefold “holy” of Isaiah 6:3 (cf. Targum of Isaiah 6:3 cited below).

The threefold “holy” of the angels in Isaiah 6:3 provided a literary structure for angelic prayers within later Jewish literature.  The Aramaic targum (translation) of Isaiah 6:3 interpreted the song of the angels: “Holy—in the highest heaven, the house of his presence, Holy—upon the earth, the work of his might, Holy—for endless ages is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of the brightness of his glory.”  This expansion of the angelic message in Isaiah 6:3 is strikingly similar to the threefold blessing of the angels found in Luke 2:14: “Glory to God in the highest [Holy—in the highest heaven, the house of his presence], on earth peace [Holy—upon the earth, the work of his might], goodwill toward men [Holy—for endless ages is the Lord of hosts].”  The threefold blessing of the angels to the shepherds matches beautifully to the Aramaic version of the angelic proclamation in Isaiah 6:3.

The realization that Isaiah 6:3 stood behind the threefold hymn of the angels in Luke 2:14 aligns the angelic hymn in Luke with the ancient benediction of the Kedushah: “May we sanctify (נקדש) Your name in the world as it is sanctified in the highest of heaven, as it is written by the hand of Your prophet: ‘And they called one unto the other and said, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord of Hosts: the whole earth is full of His glory”’ (Isa. 6:3).  Those over against them say, ‘Blessed—Blessed be the glory of the Lord from His place’ (Ezek. 3:12).  And in your Holy Words it is written, saying, ‘The Lord reigns (ימלך) for ever, your God, O Zion, unto all generations.  Praise you the Lord’ (Psalm 146:10). Unto all generations we will proclaim Your greatness, and to all eternity we will tell of Your holiness.  Your praise, O our God, will not cease from our mouth forever, for You are a great and holy God and King.  Blessed are You O Lord, the holy God.”  With the advent of Jesus, God draws near to His people—His goodwill is for everyone.  His reign dawns through those who obey His will.

The angels told the shepherds that their message of good news “will come to all people” (Luke 2:10). God’s goodwill is not simply for the elect.  His reign is realized wherever people obey His will.  His goodwill extends to everyone, for “He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and the unjust.”  God’s mercy is not only for the righteous, or elect; His mercy, according to Jesus, extends to everyone. His merciful will reaches out to all mankind to bring peace, completeness, and wholeness.  And, in the birth of Jesus, God has drawn near to demonstrate within the bounds of history what His will is, to give voice and example to His will.

Jesus repudiated the worldview of the Qumran sectarians, “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy,’ but I say to you, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you.”  It seems unlikely that the message of the angels at his birth would have embraced such a sectarian exclusivity.  Jesus rather articulated the growing movement of Jewish humanism that viewed all people as having worth and value because every person has been created in the image of God (Gen. 1:27).  He challenged his followers to “Be merciful as your father in heaven is merciful.”

The message of the angels was an announcement of God’s nearness.  God is for us, and He has drawn near to us.  God is a part of human history; therefore, there is hope.  His desire is for us.  God has not turned a blind eye to the suffering of the righteous or a deaf ear to the cry of the afflicted.  His mercy extends to all mankind, and he will redeem us.  This is the message of the angels.  This is the message of Christmas.  So, as you look to celebrate this year-a year that has been filled with fear, uncertainty, and turmoil in the world-take a moment to meditate and declare with the angels: “Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, goodwill toward men.”

In Derekh Eretz Zuta, which contains teachings of the Hasidim, we read, “If you have not turned your eyes to money, which does not belong to you, they will shine for you in the midst of darkness and gloom, because there is said: ‘Then shall your light rise in darkness and your gloom be as the noon-day’ (Isa. 58:10)” (4:17; cf. Derekh Eretz Zuta 4:10).  We also find, “If you withheld your hand from plunder, what can the workers of evil do to you? If you did not close your hands from almsgiving, what can all owners of silver and gold do to you?” (Derekh Eretz Zuta 4:21-22).  This last question is very close to a statement found in the Jewish “Two Ways” describing the “way of life”: “Do not be the sort of person who holds his hand to receive, but draws it back when it comes to giving.  If you have [something] through the work of your hands, you shall give [something as] redemption of your sins. You shall not hesitate to give, and when you give you shall not grumble, for you will know who the paymaster is who gives good wages. You shall not turn away anyone who is in need; on the contrary, you shall hold everything in common with your brother (i.e., “What is mine is yours, and what is yours is yours”)…”

Jesus saw clear merit for the rich man in embracing a life of poverty and giving what he had to the poor.  In the same manner, he responded to Zacchaeus, the tax collector, who promised to give half of his possessions to the poor, “Today salvation has come to this house” (Luke 19:8-9).  This pietistic impulse was part of the piety of the Hasidim and part of the “way of life.”

3) “and you will have treasure in heaven”: This became the logical conclusion of the verse from Proverbs, “Ill-gotten wealth is of no avail, but righteousness (צדקה) saves from death” (10:2).  It became a widespread idea within Ancient Judaism that almsgiving “laid up treasure in heaven”: “Sell your possessions, and give alms; provide yourselves with purses that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Luke 12:33-34).  In the book of Tobit (4th century B.C.), we read, “To all those who practice righteousness give alms from your possessions, and do not let your eye begrudge the gift when you make it. Do not turn your face away from anyone who is poor, and the face of God will not be turned away from you. If you have many possessions, make your gift from them in proportion; if few, do not be afraid to give according to the little you have. So you will be laying up a good treasure for yourself against the day of necessity. For almsgiving delivers from death and keeps you from going into the darkness. Indeed, almsgiving, for all who practice it, is an excellent offering in the presence of the Most High” (Tobit 4:6-11).  Elsewhere Tobit says, “Do good and evil will not overtake you.  Prayer with fasting is good, but better than both is almsgiving with righteousness…It is better to give alms than to lay up gold.  For almsgiving saves from death and purges away every sin” (Tobit 12:7-9; cf. Ben Sira 29:11-13; Derekh Eretz Zuta 4:4; and t. Peah 4:18-19).  These contemporary ideas indicate that Jesus’ statement “you will have treasure in heaven” answered the rich man’s question, “What must I do to have eternal life?”

Two impulses apparently motivated the ideology of poverty within the Hasidim: 1) the fear of sin.  They recognized the potential of money to corrupt and lead into sin, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God” (Matt. 19:24).  The fear of sin caused them to recognize the subtly of the path of sin (“the way of death”): “The beginning of transgression is impure thought, the second stage is scoffing, the third stage is haughtiness, the fourth stage is roughness, the fifth stage is idleness, the sixth stage is causeless hatred and the seventh stage an evil (non-generous) eye” (Derekh Ereta Zuta 6:10).  Their fear of sin and how easily it entangles led them to say, “Keep aloof from everything hideous and from whatever seems hideous, lest other suspect you of transgression” (Derekh Ereta Zuta 1:13).

2) The Hasidim were very strict in the observance of laws between a man and his fellow man.  They embraced the developing Jewish humanistic spirit that connected how a person treats another like himself, created in the image of God, with that person’s relationship/worship of God (cf. t. Peah 3:8; and Avot de-Rabbi Nathan version A, 3): “Concerning those who are merciful, who feed the hungry and who give drink to the thirsty, who clothe the naked and distribute alms, Scripture declares, ‘Say to the righteous that it shall be right with him’ (Isa. 3:10)” (Derekh Eretz Rabbah 2:21).  Or in other words, “Blessed are the merciful (charitable), for they will receive mercy (charity)” (Matt. 5:7).

These two impulses are prominent within the piety of Jesus.  To the woman caught in the act of adultery, Jesus responded, “Neither do I condemn you (mercy), go, and do not sin again (fear of sin)” (John 8:11).  I find it interesting that we do not find the Hasidim (at least in the sources about them) devolving into a sectarian, exclusive group that shunned the people and created boundaries between themselves and everyone else.  At the same time, they were revered for their piety without losing their common touch—just like Jesus.  Such a piety has some interesting potential in the 21^st century; maybe as his followers we can connect with the same pietistic impulses.

Be well.

For the last month we have explored the similarities between the hasidut (piety) of Jesus and that of the ancient Hasidim, a group of pious, “men of deeds,” who resided principally in the Galilee and were active during the 1^st century B.C.-1^st century A.D.  Others have recognized the similarities between Jesus and this group of pious wonder-workers; however, the strong connections between the piety of Jesus and this group, which are hinted at within the Gospels and Josephus, have been overlooked.  Although the Pharisees admired the Hasidim for their piety and as miracle workers, a certain tension existed between the Hasidim, which stood on the fringes of Pharisaic Judaism, and the Pharisees particularly over matters of ritual purity.  The Hasidim believed that the needs of a human being superseded issues of ritual purity, which made them popular with the common people (who weren’t always ritually pure) but not so much with the Pharisees.  As a side-note, this historic tension between the Hasidim and the Pharisees provides the cultural backdrop for understanding the tensions between Jesus and the Pharisees recorded in the Gospels.  What makes things a little tricky is an interesting irony of history: in spite of the tensions between the Hasidim and Pharisees, the Sages’ admiration for the Hasidim led them to incorporate the Hasidic Sages into the world of rabbinic Judaism including their hasidut (piety)—much of which parallels the piety of Jesus in the Gospels!

Fear of sin and derekh eretz, “the way of life,” expressed two of the pietistic ideals of the Hasidim (and Jesus).  As we have seen, “the way of life” formed part of the core of Jesus’ message, which he defined in his encounter with the rich man and his “sermon” recorded in Matthew 5:17-48.  His description of the “way of life” parallels that found in the Jewish work of “The Two Ways”: “The way of life is this: First, you shall love the Lord your Maker, and secondly, your neighbor as yourself (cf. Luke 10:25-28; Matt. 19:19). And whatever you do not want to be done to you, you shall not do to anyone else. And the interpretation of these words is: Do not kill, do no commit adultery, do not bear false witness, do not fornicate, do not steal, do not covet what belongs to your neighbor (cf. Mark 10:19; and Luke 18:20).”  The episode of Jesus and the rich man introduces another key pietistic idea of the Hasidim: charity as the principal manner in which a person worships God.

After the rich man responded to Jesus saying, “All these [the last of the Ten Commandments and Lev. 19:18] I have observed; what do I still lack” (Matt. 19:20), Jesus replied, “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven” (Matt. 19:21).  Several things stand out in Jesus’ response.  1) “If you would be perfect:” elsewhere as part of his interpretation of Leviticus 19:18, “Love your neighbor who is like yourself” (part of the “way of life”), he says, “You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. 5:43-38).  Luke’s parallel reads, “Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful” (Luke 6:36).  However, in Luke, Jesus’ words preceding this statement pertain to giving charity, “do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the selfish” (Luke 6:35).

We learn from rabbinic literature that the word “mercy” can be a euphemism for “charity”: Rabbi Eleazar ben Rabbi Yose said, “From which [verse may we derive the fact] that charity and righteous deeds are great peace-[makers] and intercessors between [the people of] Israel and their Father in heaven? It is stated, ‘For so says the Lord: Do not enter their house of mourning, or go to lament or bemoan them. For I have taken away my peace from this people, says the Lord, [namely] my steadfast love (חסד) and mercy (רחמים)’ (Jer. 16:5). “Steadfast love (חסד)”—this refers to righteous deeds (גמילות חסדים). “Mercy (רחמים)”—this refers to charity. [The verse thus] teaches that charity and righteous deeds are great peace-[makers] between [the people] of Israel and their Father in heaven” (t. Peah 4:21).  Given the context of Jesus’ words in Luke, his statement should be read “Be charitable, even as your Father is charitable” (cf. Matt. 5:7; 2 Cor. 9:6-12).  The response of Jesus to the rich man suggests that, for Jesus, being “perfect” meant charitable, i.e., merciful.  Moreover, in Matthew 5:48 and 19:21, Jesus spoke about being “perfect” as a means of interpreting Leviticus 19:18; thus, Jesus defines “loving my neighbor who is like myself” in concrete action, namely giving charity.

2)  “…go, sell what you have and give it to the poor”: for Jesus the way of perfection (“the way of life”) is to show charity.  Jewish literature of the Greco-Roman period connected the giving of alms with salvation from death.  This idea grew from an interpretation of Proverbs 10:2, “Ill-gotten wealth is of no avail, but righteousness (צדקה) saves from death.”  During the first century, the term “righteousness” (צדקה) was understood as a euphemism for almsgiving (cf. Tobit 4:6-11, 12:7-9; Ben Sira 29:11-13; t. Peah 4:18-19; Matt. 5:20; Luke 11:41).  The idea that almsgiving (righteousness) saves from death was adapted by the Hasidim into an ideology of poverty, which we find in the teachings of Jesus, “Sell your possessions, and give alms; provide yourselves with purses that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Luke 12:33-34).  According to rabbinic literature, the one who says, “What is mine is yours, and what is yours is yours”—this one is a Hasid (חסיד: m. Avot 5:14).  Jesus described this as the attitude of God himself in the parable of “The Prodigal Son”: “And he (the father) said to him (the older son), ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours’” (Luke 15:31; emphasis mine; cf. Luke 6:36).

In my last post, I suggested that Josephus’ description of Jesus (found in a tenth-century work written in Arabic by the Christian Agapius) as one whose “way of life was good” connected Jesus to teaching of “The Two Ways” and the derekh eretz literature, which contains teachings of the Hasidim.  I want to continue exploring these pietistic influences upon the teachings of Jesus that shaped his faith by looking at some examples from the New Testament.

According to the Gospels, Jesus spoke about the “Two Ways,” the way of life and the way of death (Matt. 7:13-14; Luke 13:23-24), yet unlike the other places where we find the “Two Ways” in the literature, Jesus did not define what actions lead to the “way of life” or the “way of death.”  When we look, however, at the description of the “Two Ways” in the various sources, we can see that in two places Jesus did describe the “way of life” in which we should walk.  In the original treatise of “The Two Ways,” the way of life was described, “The way of life is this: First, you shall love the Lord your Maker, and secondly, you neighbor as yourself. And whatever you do not want to be done to you, you shall not do to anyone else. And the interpretation of these words is: Do not kill, do no commit adultery, do not bear false witness, do not fornicate, do not steal, do not covet what belongs to your neighbor.”  Even the casual reader of the Gospels will recognize the citation of Deuteronomy 6:5 (“And you will love the Lord your God”) and Leviticus 19:18 (“And you will love your neighbor as yourself”) in the same manner as found in the Gospels (Luke 10:25-28; Matthew 22:34-40; and Mark 12:28-34).  There is also the negative form of the Golden Rule, “and whatever you do not want to be done to you, you shall not do to anyone else,” which grew from an interpretation of Leviticus 19:18 (cf. Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Leviticus 19:18).  The Two Ways interpreted how one loves God and neighbor by quoting the last half of the Ten Commandments—all of which pertain to how I relate to others.

The Gospels record an encounter between Jesus and a rich man, who asked Jesus concerning the way of life (cf. Micah 6:8).  In response to his question, Jesus replied, “Why do you ask me about what is good?  One there is that is good” (Matt. 19:16).  Although many have assumed that Jesus refers to God as the “One that is good,” according to the Sages, “There is none good but Torah,” which they deduced from the verse of Proverbs 4:2: “For I give you good instruction—forsake not my teaching (lit. Torah: תורתי).”  Such an understanding of Jesus’ reply (i.e., the one that is good is Torah) seems clear from the continuation of Jesus’ statement, “You know the commandments: Do not kill, do not commit adultery, do not steal, do not bear false witness…and you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 10:19; Luke 18:20; and Matt. 19:19).  Within the Gospels, this event is quite similar to the encounter between Jesus and the lawyer in Luke 10:25-28 where the same question, which is the way of life, generates the response that the summation of the Torah is “Love God” (Deut. 6:5) and “love neighbor” (Lev. 19:18).  In fact between the Gospel accounts of Jesus and the rich man and Jesus and the lawyer, we find the content of the “way of life” from treatise of “The Two Ways”: “The way of life is this: First, you shall love the Lord your Maker, and secondly, you neighbor as yourself (cf. Luke 10:25-28; Matt. 19:19). And whatever you do not want to be done to you, you shall not do to anyone else. And the interpretation of these words is: Do not kill, do not commit adultery, do not bear false witness, do not fornicate, do not steal, do not covet what belongs to your neighbor (cf. Mark 10:19; and Luke 18:20).”  Thus, although Jesus did not define the way of life when he spoke about the “Two Ways” (at least within the Gospel record), we now see that he defined the “way of life” in the same manner as the treatise of “The Two Ways.”  It is also significant that both Jesus and “The Two Ways” identified the fulfillment of the command to “love God” by citing the commandment to “love my neighbor” and the last half of the Ten Commandments, all of which pertain to my relationship to others (we’ll come back to this in a minute).

Now that we are familiar with “the way of life” as defined by Jesus and the treatise of “The Two Ways” we can see the second instance where Jesus describes the way of life: Matthew 5:17-48.  Matthew 5:17-48 appears in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7).  Originally Matthew 5-7 was probably not one large sermon but a collection of smaller teachings strung together by the author of the Gospel of Matthew as part of his desire to present Jesus as another Moses (i.e., someone who went up on a mountain and received five books [blocks] of teaching: notice in Matthew the sayings of Jesus are collected into five blocks of sayings).  Nevertheless, there is an internal unity to Matthew 5:17-48 indicating that these verses formed an original block of teaching.

As way of preamble, Jesus affirms his positive attitude toward the Law of Moses: “Think not that I have come to abolish (i.e., set aside) the law…I have not come to abolish…but fulfill (i.e., establish)” (5:17), and he goes on to say that “Whoever relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but he who does them and teaches them shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven” (5:19).  Here Jesus reflects the deep fear of sin found within the derekh eretz (Hasidic) literature that strongly urged people to flee even the appearance of sin: “Keep aloof from that which leads to sin and from whatever resembles sin.  Shudder from committing a minor transgression, lest you be led to commit a major transgression; hasten to perform a minor precept, for, thereby you will be led to perform a major precept” (Derekh Eretz Zuta1:26; cf. Matt. 23:23: “the weighty matters of the law”; Tosefta Derekh Eretz 6:13; and Sifre to Deuteronomy 19:11).  Not only did Jesus uphold the “minor commandments” (קלות מצות), but in what follows in his teaching, the governing principle is if you keep away from those things that led to sin, even a minor transgression, you will never commit a major transgression.  In other words, if you control your anger towards another person, you will never murder; if you do not allow yourself to lust after another person, you will never commit adultery.  This ideology comes from the worldview of the “Two Ways” where we find, “My son, flee from all evil and from everything which resembles it.  Be not angry, for anger leads to murder. My son, do not be lustful, for lust leads to adultery. My son, regard not omens, for this leads to idolatry.  My son, be not a liar, for lying leads to theft.  My son, be not a grumbler, for this leads to blasphemy” (cf. Didache 3:1-6).  It seems hard to deny that the Jewish “Two Ways” document provided the source for Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 5:17-48 in which Jesus highlights the latter commandments of the Ten Commandments: Do not murder, do not commit adultery, do not swear falsely, concluding with the great summation of the Law, Leviticus 19:18 (cf. Matt. 22:38-40; b. Shabbat 31a; Romans 13:8; Galatians 5:14; and James 2:8).  As in the description of the way of life found in “The Two Ways” and in Jesus’ response to the rich man, there is a connection between Leviticus 19:18 and the last of the Ten Commandments (i.e., those commandments pertaining to how I treat others).

Clearly, then, Jesus defined the “way of life” as what we find in “The Two Ways.”  Moreover, he called people, if they would be perfect, to follow the path of life.  What I find particularly compelling is that Jesus, like his Jewish contemporaries, identified the details of the “way of life” within my relationship to others.  It seems that many modern Christians would define the “way of life” within my relationship to God—do I pray, do I go to church, do I study my Bible: the focus being upon my relationship with God.  Yet, Jesus saw my path to God as going through my fellow human being: “For if you forgive men their trespasses, then your heavenly Father will forgive you; but if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses” (Matt. 6:14-15).  How much different would our world look if the followers of Jesus simply took that statement to heart?

The other thing that strikes me is that in the midst of Jesus’ interaction with people he never lost his fear of sin or the path of carelessness that can lead to committing sin: “Keep aloof from that which leads to sin and from whatever resembles sin.”  The Hasidim, like Jesus, were very popular with the people; in part because they did not let purity issues separate them from the people as the Pharisees did.  Nevertheless, their popularity with the people did not drag them into living impious lifestyles; on the contrary they exemplified piety.  It seems clear from what we know of them they exemplified humility, never losing the common touch, and yet remembered to “flee from evil and everything that resembles it.”  I think our world could use some people like that, too.

Be well.

In my last post, I raised the question whether or not the Hasidic influences that we find in Jesus came from his father Joseph, who I suggested was possibly a Hasid.  While other scholars have noted the connection between Jesus and the Hasidim (primarily in connection to the miracles attributed to both groups), I am more curious to explore the connections between their piety and Jesus.  I think that Christians pay too little attention to the faith of Jesus in part because our focus tends to be on faith in Jesus and his divinity.  But beyond his actions, he has a profound way of looking at and interacting with the world.  In some ways, it’s that part of Jesus that I find transforming.

A couple of weeks ago I reread the testimony of the first century Jewish historian, Flavius Josephus, about Jesus (Antiquities 18:63-64).  Josephus’ testimony, known as the Testimonium Flavianum, has been corrupted by Christian scribes in all of the Greek manuscripts that we have of Josephus; however, the original version of Josephus’ description of Jesus appears in a tenth-century history of the world written in Arabic by the Christian author Agapius: “At this time there was a wise man (σοφος) who was called Jesus. And his conduct (lit. way of life) was good, and [he] was known to be virtuous [some versions read: “his way of life was good and his learning outstanding”].”  Josephus’ description of Jesus as a “wise man,” a “sophist,”[i] parallels his description of Jewish Sages as sophists (War 1:648, 650; and Antiquities 17:152).  A reading of the Gospels in conjunction with contemporary Jewish, particularly rabbinic, sources produces Jesus as a Sage—a genius—who used simple language, yet underneath runs a complex current of thought connected to the highest level of academic training (which is also suggested by some of the Arabic versions of Josephus’ testimony about Jesus: “and his learning [was] outstanding).  In fact, it is clear that Jesus’ formal education far surpassed Paul’s.  What struck me, however, as I reread the Arabic version of Josephus’ description of Jesus was the appearance of the phrase “his way of life was good.”

This language, “his way of life was good,” calls to mind the teaching of “The Two Ways” that appears in numerous Jewish and early Christian sources (cf. 1QS 3:13-4:26; Didache 1-6; Epistle of Barnabas 18-20; the Doctrina Apostolorum).[ii] It is clear that the early Christian sources that preserve “The Two Ways” have incorporated the earlier Jewish work, “The Two Ways,” into their compositions.  This composition opened, “There are two ways in the world, one of life, the other of death, one of light, the other of darkness…”  After this introduction, the “way of life” was defined, “The way of life is this: First, you shall love the Lord your Maker, and secondly, you neighbor as yourself. And whatever you do not want to be done to you, you shall not do to anyone else. And the interpretation of these words is: Do not kill, do no commit adultery, do not bear false witness, do not fornicate, do not steal, do not covet what belongs to your neighbor.”  The significance for the phrase “way of life” (and its corollary “way of death”) to the teaching of “The Two Ways” hints that Josephus’ use of the phrase, “his way of life was good,” connected Jesus to the Jewish pietistic circles that generated the “The Two Ways” (as is attested also in the New Testament, which I will look at in my next post).

The use of the word “way” (דרך) is of particular significance because the term derekh eretz (lit. “way of the land”: ארץ דרך) seems to have been an important term within Hasidic circles.  In fact, the Rabbinic Derekh Eretz treatises contain teachings of the Hasidim.  While today the term, derekh eretz, refers to practical, mannerly behavior, originally the term referred to the “way of life” that “The Two Ways” exhorted us to choose.  This seems clear from the discussion between Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai and his disciples in which he told them, “Go forth and see which is the good way to which a man should cleave…Go forth and see which is the evil way which a man should shun” (m. Avot 2:9; cf. m. Avot 2:1).  His disciples respond to him that the “good way to which one should cleave” is “a good eye (i.e., being generous),” “a good companion,” “a good neighbor,” “one that sees what will be,” and “a good heart.”  The “bad way” which one should flee is characterized by “an evil eye,” “an evil companion,” “an evil neighbor,” “he that borrows and does not repay,” and “an evil heart.”  As in the treatise of “The Two Ways,” lists of actions identify the “way of life” (=good actions) and the “way of death” (=bad actions).  Similarly we find lists describing the “way of life” within the derekh eretz literature, “The ways of Sages are to be: meek, humble of spirit, diligent and filled (with knowledge), forbearing and beloved by all, humble to the members of his household, in fear of transgression and judging a man according to his deed” (Derekh Eretz Zuta 1:1).  Usually the derekh eretz literature does not provide negative lists of the “way of death.”

We also find within both the teaching of “The Two Ways” and the derekh eretz literature the vocabulary that one should “cleave” to the way of life and “flee” from the way of death: “My son, flee from all evil and from everything which resembles it.  Be not angry, for anger leads to murder. My son, do not be lustful, for lust leads to adultery. My son, regard not omens, for this leads to idolatry.  My son, be not a liar, for lying leads to theft.  My son, be not a grumbler, for this leads to blasphemy” (cf. Didache 3:1-6); “Keep aloof from everything hideous (something involving unethical behavior) and from whatever seems hideous, lest others suspect you of sin” (Derekh Eretz Zuta 1:12).  In another passage within the derekh eretz literature, we read, “Keep aloof from that which leads to sin and from whatever resembles sin. Shudder from committing a minor transgression, lest you be led to commit a major transgression; hasten to perform a minor precept, for, thereby you will be led to perform a major precept” (Derekh Eretz Zuta 1:26; cf. Matt. 5:19; m. Avot 4:2).

Josephus’ description of Jesus, “his way of life (derekh eretz) was good,” doesn’t seem to be accidental.  In fact, Josephus correctly places Jesus within the Hasidic stream of Jewish piety and describes him as someone with exceptional ethical and moral conduct.  I know for most Christians this is nothing new, but I think when we recognize that Jesus’ conduct was part of his belief system, born from the Jewish piety that influenced he and his family, it becomes hard for Christians to hide behind the excuse, “Well of course he was moral; he was God.”  As followers of Jesus, his disciples, we need to internalize his worldview more than we do sometimes recognizing that he chose to cleave to the “way of life” and flee from the “way of death.”

In my next post, I want to explore the Hasidic influence of “The Two Ways” upon the thought and teachings of Jesus, but for now, I challenge all of us: “Choose the way of life!”

Be well.

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[i] Similarly, Lucian of Samosata, a Greek author of the second century A.D., referred to Jesus as “the crucified sophist” (The Passing of Peregrinus 13).

[ii] On “The Two Ways,” see David Flusser, “The Decalogue in the New Testament,” in The Ten Commandments in History and Tradition (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1990), 219-246; “Which Is the Straight Way that a Man should Choose for Himself? (m. Avot 2:1),” in Judaism of the Second Temple: Volume 2, The Jewish Sages and Their Literature (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2009), 232-247; “The Two Ways,” in Jewish Sources in Early Christianity (Israel: Sifrat Poalim, 1979), 235-252 [Hebrew]; and Huub van de Sandt and David Flusser, The Didache: Its Jewish Sources and its Place in Early Judaism and Christianity (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2002).