Jesus Misquoting Scripture . . . On Purpose?

How well did Jesus actually know his Bible?

This isn’t a common question posed by Christians, but it is one that the end of Mark 2 forces upon the reader. In Mark 2:25-26, Jesus re-tells a biblical story as part of a confrontation with the Pharisees. However, his version of the story is riddled with . . . mistakes?

Jesus’ biblical reference comes in response to the questioning of the Pharisees concerning his disciples’ activity of picking grain on the Sabbath. He returns their question (“Why are they doing what is not lawful on the Sabbath?”) with another question, “Have you never read what David did, when he was in need and was hungry, he and those who were with him: how he entered the house of God, in the time of Abiathar the high priest, and ate the bread of the Presence, which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and also gave it to those who were with him?”

Jesus seems to be referencing a tale found in 1 Samuel 21:1-6. The problem is that Samuel’s version of this story is significantly different from Jesus’ version. In Samuel’s narrative, David was by himself. There is no mention of hunger. David does not enter the house of God. The priest was Ahimelech, not Abiathar.

Most Christian interpreters try to smooth over the differences between the versions of the story presented in 1 Samuel and Mark 2. These efforts are, in my evaluation, usually unsatisfying. But there is another, perhaps more creative, interpretive possibility.

What if Jesus misremembers this tale on purpose? What if his misquotation is an ironic jab at the Pharisees?

This is the conclusion that theologian William Placher reaches:
“Is this all a joke? A mistake? By Jesus? By Mark? Mark so rarely misremembers texts that I doubt he is doing so here. I infer, then, that the point of his reply is to show that these Pharisees, eager to burden the common people with the details of the Law, are actually so ignorant of Scripture that they do not notice one misquotation after another. Such matters have not altogether changed, and those who quote a particular biblical passage as a means of condemnation often turn out not to know its context or relation to other biblical texts.” (William Placher, Mark: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, 51)

My experience does confirm that those who use religion or religious clobber-texts to condemn other people usually are not very familiar with the sacred texts they hold so dear. This reading is further supported if Placher is right and Mark rarely “misremembers texts.” Why doesn’t Mark (or a later scribe) spot and correct Jesus’ mistake? Why do Matthew and Luke carry over these mistakes (Matthew 12 and Luke 6)?
Perhaps they caught the irony in Jesus’ response.

What do you think? 
Are you convinced by Placher’s interpretation?
If not, how do you reconcile the two texts and Jesus’ apparent mistake/ignorance?

Christmas Calvinism: The Grammar of Luke 2:14

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace
among people with whom he is pleased.”
– Luke 2:14 [NET]

Until a few days ago, I’ve always read this verse in a Calvinistic way (I’ll use the term “exclusivist” for the rest of this post). That is to say, the peace being announced here is for a select group of individuals (not all of humanity) who have pleased God. Indeed, this is is how the ESV, NIV, and NRSV all steer their readers, replacing the above noun “people” with the pronoun “those” for a phrase that reads similar to “peace among those with whom his favor rests/he is pleased.”

However, I recently heard a sermon where the preacher read the text in a very inclusive way. That is to say, he read the peace being announced here as for all people, who as a collective, have God’s pleasure. The NET (quoted above) and NASB both leave this reading as an option, depending on how you mentally organize the clause. Does the phrase “with whom he is pleased” describe the type of people who are recipients of this peace or is it more of a simple description of the broad category of “people/humanity”? Thus reading: “Peace on earth among people/humanity, with whom he is pleased.”

It’s easy to see the various theological leanings which would play into how one chooses to read this verse. Surely God is not pleased with everybody, right? Or could it simply be God’s pleasure to send the Incarnate Son to redeem his perfectly loved, if not damaged, Image Bearers? Indeed, just before this angelic announcement there is another very inclusive phrase from the lips of the divine messenger: “I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people (παντὶ τῷ λαῷ).” [Lk. 2:10]

I know there are some issues with the Greek (and variant manuscripts) of this verse (see below*), but . . .

What do you think?
Should Luke 2:14 be read in an exclusive or inclusive way?
Why or why not?


Greek text of Luke 2:14 (marked off as poetry)

δόξα ἐν ὑψίστοις θεῷ
καὶ ἐπὶ γῆς εἰρήνη
ἐν ἀνθρώποις εὐδοκίας

A quick consult with some of my more proficient Greek friends offered no help as to why exactly different translators have made the decisions they did or as to whether the Greek gives a definitive nod toward an exclusive or inclusive reading.

Book Review: The Gospel of the Lord by Michael F. Bird

51-Q4LemSWL._SY344_BO1,204,203,200_If you haven’t started following Michael Bird’s scholarship (he blogs here and has been writing books at an astonishing pace), you need to as soon as possible. Bird’s latest book, The Gospel of the Lord: How the Early Church Wrote the Story of Jesus, is a tour-de-force of scholarship concerning the formation of the Gospels. His writing is engaging, witty, and incredibly thorough. The book is an explanation of the historical process which took place from the time of Jesus’ Kingdom announcement to the circulation of a collection of books describing Jesus’ ministry, death, and resurrection. The result is a “must-read” work by all who are interested in the “what, why, how, and where of the Gospels.”

Bird covers five main topics in the course of his writing: the purpose and preservation of the Jesus tradition, the formation of the Jesus tradition, the literary genetics of the Gospels (including the Synoptic Problem and the Johannine Question), the genre and goal of the Gospels, and the significance of a fourfold Gospel. For each topic, the reader should expect Bird to summarize and critique an impressive amount of historical theories and scholars and then offer his own scholarly and thoroughly evangelical conclusion. Each chapter is also followed by a helpful and interesting Excursus on a related topic (such as patristic views on the order of the Gospels or the non-canonical Gospels).

Bird occasionally goes after some “sacred cows” of scholarship, such as when he attacks the merit and purpose of the idea of positing communities behind the Gospels (such as a Markan community or a Johannine community). He interestingly notes that few historical/literary scholars do this as a way of interpreting other ancient authors. However, for the most part Bird helpfully lays out the majority opinions in the world of scholarship and then carefully crafts his own tentative conclusion. I was particularly impressed with his handling of the Synoptic problem and his explication of the historical and theological significance of the fourfold Gospel [see: Fourfold Gospel].

In the end, perhaps the highest praise I can give this book is to say that it stands in my mind as a close cousin to N.T. Wright’s Jesus and the Victory of God. Bird mentions in the introduction that reading JVOG was a turning point in his life – it was also the moment in my life which sparked an interest in the study of the historical Jesus, an interest which has shaped my faith and theology in endless ways. I can confidently say the same about Bird’s The Gospel of the Lord – this is a book sure to clear the way forward for continued and thoughtful thinking about the historical tradition, both oral and textual, which stands behind the Gospels.


Note: I received this book from Eerdmans in exchange for an unbiased review. 

Observations On ‘Hearing’ Mark

gospel-of-mark

Two days ago I was able to attend a live reading of the Gospel of Mark.* The goal was to experience the Gospel in a way similar to an early Christian community – orally. As Michael Bird correctly notes,

“Our earliest Christian literature is the textual product of the oral activities of the early church, including proclamation, apologetics, exhortations, prayers, debates, hymns, creeds, and storytelling… Several scholars have drawn attention to the Gospel of Mark as a text designed to be orally performed and to be aurally penetrating.”

Some observations after hearing Mark performed:

1: I’m irreversibly textual.

I’m not sure it’s possible to “go back in time” and make-believe that we are an illiterate community. While listening to Mark, it was obviously clear to me that I am a textual person. Part of this is my personality (I learn better that way … I’m not an “oral learner”) but I believe that in a large way all of the developed world is irreversibly textual. In other words: I think textually… I process information textually… I organize material textually. I found myself consistently fighting the temptation to “see the words” in my mind or to place the story to a chapter or verse (chapters and verses are a separate problem: “Have We Ruined the Bible?”).

2: Mark is a genuinely good story.

Bird, and other New Testament scholars, are correct to identify Mark as a legitimately engaging oral narrative. It keeps one’s attention with its pace, it has more than enough humor, and it contains a good amount of dramatic tension. Many of the “themes of Mark” that I knew intellectually, such as the Messianic Secret, had even more of an impact when I heard the entire text at once.

3: The cumulative effect of a story is greater than the sum of its parts.

There’s something wise about keeping a story together instead of breaking it into pieces. A narrative seems to have a “cumulative meaning” – a powerful impression left on the mind when it is told all at once. There are many confusing events in Mark that make me want to stop and ask questions, but with the story continuing on one is forced to accept these elements as they are and keep following the narrative. In fact, having these questions unanswered and lingering in the back on one’s mind actually brings out the overall meaning of the story.

4: I’m often as confused as the disciples, but I want to follow Jesus.

Jesus is an attractive, mysterious, and powerful figure. I want to know him, I want to be like him, and I want to follow him. I’m often afraid. At times I have denied him. But I’ve never been able to shake this haunting feeling that he has risen and I am called to follow him into the future.


* Our church hosted the event and Mark was read by my good friend (and one of our Elders) Jake Milwee. While planning the event, we found out that we were definitely not the first to do so: see Mark’s Gospel Live, Performances of Mark’s Gospel, and Mark’s Gospel (performed by Max McClean).

Did Mark’s Jesus HAVE to Die on a Cross?

Did Jesus, in the Gospel According to Saint Mark, have to die on a cross? Brian K. Blount, in his remarkable book Invasion of the Dead: Preaching Resurrectiondoesn’t think so.

He argues that the real action of God through Jesus in Mark is the inauguration of God’s kingdom over and against the forces of the world. While his ministry and life does make suffering necessary and inevitable, he claims that:

“Theoretically speaking, God’s invasion could occur, and in fact does occur in Mark without a cross moment. To be sure, death is necessary – it is an obligatory prerequisite for resurrection – but death on a cross? Consider the narrative presentation. God’s invasion ignites in that striking moment when Jesus tears into the narrative world and engages John the Baptist at the Jordan. God’s invasion flares divine intent for the future when Jesus turns up missing from the tomb. If, theoretically speaking, Jesus had died from cancer, or old age, or a broken heart, the invasive realities of the incarnation and the empty womb would remain real and viable. The cross showcases more about us than it does about God. It confirms the deadness that writhes within us and fights desperately against the promise of future life that Jesus reveals in his present behavior. Given who humans are – the living dead – and who Jesus is, the representation of future life in the midst of a present age consumed by the influence and power of death, the cross becomes an apocalyptic inevitability. Because of us. Not because of God. Because of what we are. Not because of who God is. Who God is stands exposed the moment Jesus is revealed as God’s Son and God’s mission is revealed as Jesus’ ministry. Who God is stands clarified the moment the man in the empty tomb alleges that Jesus’ promise to rise from the dead and restart his ministry through his disciples was fulfilled. In Jesus’ coming, God is the one who breaks in on the powers of death who rule this present age. God is the one who offers a preview of future life to the living dead who populate this age in Jesus’ ministry. God is the one who raises up a working demonstration of that future life in Jesus’ empty tomb. In a desperate, futile attempt to counter all of these revelations of “life,” the living dead offer up a cross.”

Do you agree with Blount? What are your thoughts on this quote?