CHAPTER 23

Matthew 16:1–20

LISTEN to the Story

¹The Pharisees and Sadducees came to Jesus and tested him by asking him to show them a sign from heaven.

²He replied, “When evening comes, you say, ‘It will be fair weather, for the sky is red,’ ³and in the morning, ‘Today it will be stormy, for the sky is red and overcast.’ You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but you cannot interpret the signs of the times. ⁴A wicked and adulterous generation looks for a sign, but none will be given it except the sign of Jonah.” Jesus then left them and went away.

⁵When they went across the lake, the disciples forgot to take bread. ⁶“Be careful,” Jesus said to them. “Be on your guard against the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees.”

⁷They discussed this among themselves and said, “It is because we didn’t bring any bread.”

⁸Aware of their discussion, Jesus asked, “You of little faith, why are you talking among yourselves about having no bread? ⁹Do you still not understand? Don’t you remember the five loaves for the five thousand, and how many basketfuls you gathered? ¹⁰Or the seven loaves for the four thousand, and how many basketfuls you gathered? ¹¹How is it you don’t understand that I was not talking to you about bread? But be on your guard against the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees.” ¹²Then they understood that he was not telling them to guard against the yeast used in bread, but against the teaching of the Pharisees and Sadducees.

¹³When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?”

¹⁴They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”

¹⁵“But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”

¹⁶Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

¹⁷Jesus replied, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by flesh and blood, but by my Father in heaven. ¹⁸And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. ¹⁹I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” ²⁰Then he ordered his disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.

Listening to the Text in the Story: Deuteronomy 13:1–5; 2 Samuel 7:4–16; Job 38:17; Psalm 2:4–7; Isaiah 2:2–4; 22:21–24; 28:15–19; 38:10; 51:1–2; Jeremiah 10:2; 31:31–34; Malachi 4:5–6.

Jesus had one mission: to be the last king of Israel to claim David’s throne. What that meant, of course, was that Jesus came to establish the kingdom of heaven on earth—a just reign that would last forever. He knew from the beginning that the leaders in Jerusalem wouldn’t take it very well—something that Matthew has emphasized (Matt 2:1–23). But that didn’t keep Jesus from doing what he came to do or saying what he came to say. He refused to mince words, telling the people from the start that the scribes and Pharisees weren’t even close to entering the kingdom. He told the people that something greater than Solomon and the temple he built was among them. He ignored the traditions of the Pharisees and refused to perform signs to prove his identity. Even when the Pharisaical big guns from Jerusalem showed up to challenge him, he dismissed them as “blind guides.” Possibly it was to let things die down a little that he would leave Jewish territory for a spell. But as soon as he returned, even larger crowds would show up looking for help, with the religious leaders not far behind ready to do battle again. Yet, to a certain extent the Pharisees were harmless. They never took matters into their own hands to kill Jesus. Sure, they planned to, but they seemed to be waging a war of public opinion, trying to persuade the crowds to turn on Jesus. But when the Sadducean powerbrokers from Jerusalem came calling, Jesus must have known that time was running out.¹ Offend the Pharisees, and they’ll keep coming at you with questions, trying to entrap you. Offend the Sadducees, and your days are numbered. So when the Pharisees and the Sadducees came to Jesus and “tested him by asking him to show them a sign from heaven” (16:1), Jesus decided to leave the country again—only this time, he was doing more than buying time, hoping to defuse the situation. Instead, he acted like it was time to ask the big question, the one he had been preparing his disciples all along to answer.

Throughout Matthew’s Gospel, even though he came to establish an eternal kingdom, Jesus talked like he wouldn’t be with his disciples forever. He said there would come a time when the bridegroom was taken away from them and they would grieve (9:15). He anticipated that his disciples would be persecuted in his absence, and that one day he would return and reward them for their faithfulness (10:17–33). He talked about the “sign of Jonah,” explaining that he would spend three days and nights “in the heart of the earth” (12:39–40)—repeating the telltale sign when the Sadducees asked for a “sign from heaven” (16:1–4). Even when he gave little bits of advice along the way, like asking God for gifts or entering the narrow gate or watching out for the leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees, the assumption behind his words is that he would be gone. They would need to learn to count on God (not Jesus) for food, to find the right path on their own, and to discern for themselves bad teaching. Jesus seemed to be doing two things at once: establishing a kingdom and training his disciples, gathering lost sheep and empowering the Twelve, overcoming evil and purifying hearts. In other words, the way Matthew tells the story, Jesus came not only to set up the kingdom of heaven on earth, but he also needed to prepare his disciples to carry on the work after he was taken from them. Jesus knew the reign of God coming to earth would take more time than he had on earth. The clock was ticking; were the disciples ready?

EXPLAIN the Story

Like an approaching storm in the distance, the arrival of the Sadducees signaled to Jesus that he was running out of time. (He could read the “signs of the times,” but the Pharisees and Sadducees were clueless; Matt 16:2–4). There would come a time when Jesus would walk straight into the storm, leading his disciples to Jerusalem to claim David’s throne. When he got there, the Sadducees would be waiting for him. They were the ruling aristocracy, the trustees of the temple, the most powerful men in all of Israel. They even made up the majority of the Sanhedrin, the council that would arrest, interrogate, and hand Jesus over to the Romans for execution. Yet, for now Jesus decided to head in the opposite direction, taking the Twelve to the northern tip of Israel, near a city built by Herod and named after Caesar (v. 13).² Jesus had to test the Twelve to find out if they were ready for what lay ahead (v. 21), to see if they knew the answer to the most important question he had ever asked them. In light of what they discussed during their trip to the north country, it would seem as though they weren’t ready at all (vv. 5–12).

Jesus made an offhanded comment about the nefarious ways of the Pharisees and Sadducees, expecting his disciples to understand the simple warning (v. 6). He assumed that what was on his mind was also on the minds of his followers. He was concerned about his disciples dealing with these hostile opponents in his absence; but the Twelve were worried that they hadn’t secured provisions for their latest trek to “who knows where” (v. 5). The disciples took Jesus’s comment as a criticism of their oversight (v. 7). Overhearing their discussion, Jesus was incredulous that they didn’t know what he was talking about and that they would even worry about the lack of food (vv. 8–11). After all, if Jesus could feed thousands of men in a deserted place (twice!), then surely he could take care of them during their trip. This one, simple comment revealed two things: that his disciples still had “little faith,” and that they still needed Jesus to explain everything he said, especially when he relied upon metaphors, analogies, and parables to make his point. Think about how frustrating that must have been for Jesus. He sees the storms gathering, and his disciples aren’t prepared to weather the eschatological forecast. This was a crucial moment. What if they gave the wrong answer? What if they still hadn’t figured out whom they were following? Would Jesus need to keep wandering around Galilee, performing miracles and teaching them lessons, hoping everything would sink in one day before things came to a head? Not to overemphasize the risk, but Jesus had put all his eggs into these twelve little baskets. Surely one of them could see what they had been carrying for quite some time.

Jesus Is the Messiah

Jesus didn’t “teach to the test,” that is, when schoolteachers give their students answers to questions on standardized exams to make sure they score well. He didn’t gather his disciples in the beginning and say, “Listen up everyone. I’m going to tell you something very important, and one day I’m going to ask if you remember what I said. [Pause] I’m the Messiah, the Son of God. Now, I know this may come as a surprise; after all, I really haven’t done anything to prove it. But, just watch me. You’ll see that what I’m telling you is true. Later down the road I’m going to ask you, ‘Who am I?’ Then you’ll say, ‘You’re the Christ, the Son of God!’ Got it? Okay, let’s go.” Neither did he make his disciples memorize a catechism. “Repeat after me: ‘I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. And in Jesus Christ his only Son our Lord. . . .’ ” Instead, like he expected for his parables, Jesus anticipated that his disciples would figure out the significance of what he said and did on their own, without explanation. In other words, like a college professor, Jesus was more interested in developing “critical thinking skills” in his students than dumping information into their heads. They needed to know not only what they believed but why they believed it. This was true for a number of reasons, but particularly it was needed so that they could distinguish the “leaven of the Pharisees and the Sadducees” from the teaching of God. Several Jewish groups had different ideas about the kingdom of God and what it would take for the dream to become reality. But Jesus knew that the reign of God depended upon him—that getting him right would enable his disciples to get the kingdom right.

One wonders why Jesus didn’t get straight to the point and ask the Twelve, “Who am I?” Instead, it looks like he’s fishing around for information, wanting to hear the scuttlebutt before he drops the big question. When the disciples report what they’ve heard (16:14), there’s really no surprise. Herod thought Jesus was John the Baptist (14:2). Jesus said he was a prophet (13:57). That some believed Jesus was Elijah makes sense in light of all the miracles he performed like the great prophet (9:18–26; 15:21–38; 1 Kgs 17:8–24). Thinking Jesus was Jeremiah is a bit of a mystery, except that Jesus may have sounded like him when he emphasized the purity of one’s heart (Matt 15:17–19; Jer 31:31–34).³ What surprises me is why Jesus didn’t discount these crazy ideas. The “leaven” of the people could be just as damaging to his purpose. Yet Jesus didn’t use this as a “teachable moment,” explaining to his disciples why these answers were so wrong. “Let’s take them one at a time. John the Baptist, really? How ridiculous is that? You know that we are two different people; you saw that from the beginning. Elijah, well that’s a little flattering, but. . . .” Equally astonishing is that the disciples didn’t report everything the people said about Jesus, like the blind men and Canaanite woman who called him “Son of David” or the people who dismissed Jesus as a drunk (Matt 11:19). Then again, Jesus already knew these things, so there was no need to repeat them. But there was one opinion that never surfaced; evidently no one ever said that Jesus was “the Messiah.” But that was about to change.

It was a pivotal moment, and I wonder if the disciples knew it. Jesus had never talked like this, wanting to know what people thought about him. The subject of his identity seemed off limits. For every time someone challenged him with “who do you think you are?” or wondered out loud about his true identity, Jesus either ignored them or shot back a pithy little response and kept moving (8:27; 9:3, 34; 11:3, 19; 12:23–24; 13:54–57; 14:33). But now he wants to know not only what the people think but, more importantly, what his disciples believed (the word order of the Greek text is emphatic: “But you, what do you say about me?” [16:15]). I wonder how long the question lingered in the air. Did Peter blurt out his answer right away, or was there a moment when the disciples looked at each with a “who’s going to tell him?” expression on their faces, a hesitation in their voice? Did they wonder, “Is this a test or an innocuous way of opening up a conversation?” What if they said the wrong thing? Would Jesus be angry with them? I wish we could hear their tone of voice or see their body language, signals that are often telling in critical moments like these. Nevertheless, we know Peter gave the right answer because Jesus fell all over him with praise (16:17). Obviously, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God” (16:16) is exactly what Jesus wanted to hear. Hearing them say that he is the Son of God was nothing new (14:33). Having someone call him “the Messiah,” on the other hand, was completely novel. And yet, Matthew has been preparing his readers for this moment from the beginning (1:1). Matthew identified Jesus as the Messiah way back at his birth (1:16–18; 2:4). Yet, since then the only time our Gospel writer referred to Jesus as the Messiah was when the Baptizer’s disciples showed up questioning whether Jesus was “the one” (11:2–3). So, when Peter said, “You are the Messiah,” it must have sounded like a revelation—not only to the disciples but also to Matthew’s first-time readers. Since the days of Jesus’s birth, no one had talked like this; Peter was the first.

Simon Is Peter

Up to this point in Matthew’s Gospel, it’s been all about Jesus. But now, because Peter gave the right answer to the question, Jesus focuses on Simon, directing our attention to him by pronouncing a blessing on this “rock” (Peter’s name means “rock,” petros in Greek and kepha in Aramaic; Gal 2:9, 11, 14). What Jesus says in these few verses is unique to Matthew’s Gospel (Matt 16:17–19). Ironically, Jesus’s response to Peter’s correct answer raises even more questions. What did Jesus mean when he said that he would build his church upon “this rock” (v. 18)? Was he talking about Peter or something else? What are the “gates of Hades,” and do they have anything to do with the “keys of the kingdom” that Jesus handed over to Peter (vv. 18–19)?⁴ Moreover, why would Jesus hand the keys of the kingdom over to Peter; why wouldn’t Jesus keep them? Doesn’t that imply Jesus’s upcoming departure—that he will need someone to take care of things while he’s gone? Speaking of that power, what exactly is Peter able to “bind and loose” on earth and in heaven (v. 19), and is Peter the only one who can do this?⁵ Finally, why did Jesus want his disciples to keep his messianic identity a secret (v. 20)—something that Mark and Luke also record (Mark 8:30; Luke 9:21)? In other words, what is the purpose of this pronouncement that appears only in Matthew’s Gospel? Because Peter has revealed the true identity of Jesus as the Messiah, the last king of Israel, are we to suppose that Jesus is now revealing the true identity of Simon as Peter, the first apostle of the church?

A few scholars think this is when Jesus gave Simon his nickname, which explains why up to this point only the narrator has referred to Simon as Peter.⁶ But most think Jesus is playing on the meaning of Simon’s nickname, one that Jesus gave him much earlier (John 1:42), or perhaps it is a nickname he had before he met Jesus. The more salient question is whether Jesus intended to build his church upon Peter⁷ or upon Peter’s confession. The reason some argue for the latter is the subtle difference in the wording that can’t be seen in English: “You are Peter [petros], and on this rock [petra] I will build my church” (Matt 16:18). There is some evidence to suggest that petros refers to a rock that can be held and petra refers to bedrock. So, the argument goes that Jesus was saying, “Well done Peter. God revealed to you that I am the Messiah. You are a ‘rock,’ and I will build my church upon the bedrock of your confession.”⁸ The problem with such a nuanced reading is that sometimes petros and petra are used as synonyms for a “stone,” whether large or small. Furthermore, such a distinction is lost in the mother tongue of Jesus and his disciples: the Aramaic version of Simon’s nickname, kepha (“Cephas”), means “rock” regardless of the size.⁹ Finally, if Jesus weren’t trying to single out Peter as the “rock” of his church, then what are we to make of the rest of what Jesus said about him—that Simon Peter has been given the keys of the kingdom, able to bind and loose on earth as it is in heaven (v. 19)?¹⁰ It seems more likely, therefore, that Jesus was rewarding Simon Peter for his divine insight, a revelation given to him by God. Therefore, Jesus set Peter apart from the rest of his disciples for a divinely appointed task involving keys and binding and loosing. Yet what does that mean?¹¹

The truth of the matter is, we don’t know. And so, this is where our preunderstanding of Peter comes into play. Since he is a major figure in the gospel story, we can go to other parts of the New Testament—the Acts of the Apostles or the letters of Peter and even Paul—and try to sort out the meaning of Jesus’s enigmatic blessing. In Acts, Peter appears as the spokesman of the early church (Acts 1:15; 2:14; 3:6, 12; 4:8), even though James is the one who acts like he’s the primary decision maker in Jerusalem (15:13–21). So, when did Peter use the keys of the kingdom to “bind and loose”? Was it when he decided that gentiles could be saved, after he received the vision of the “parachute” and witnessed the salvation of Cornelius and his household (10:1–11:18)? Isn’t that a good illustration of what Jesus meant, that he would build his church on Peter? Simon Peter even used the same imagery of rocks and building when referring to the church as a temple of “living stones” built on the foundation of Jesus Christ, the rejected cornerstone that causes people to stumble (1 Pet 2:4–8). Yet, doesn’t that reveal the way Peter interpreted Jesus’s blessing, that the “rock” upon which the church is built is Jesus Christ and not Peter—that he’s just one of the “living stones” of God’s temple?¹² Besides, what about Paul? Doesn’t he appear as the leading figure in the second half of the story of Acts? Furthermore, Paul recognized John and James (along with Peter) as “pillars” of the early church (Gal 2:6–9), and referred to all apostles (and prophets!) as the “foundation” of the church, the temple of God, “with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone” (Eph 2:20–21). So when we consider the entire New Testament, it’s apparent that Jesus built the church using several “rocks,” not just Peter.

Since Peter was not the only apostle to have a crucial role in the early church, then why did Jesus single out Peter for special recognition? I think it has a lot to do with the role Peter plays throughout the rest of Matthew’s Gospel. From this point forward, Peter will try to use the keys of the kingdom to bind on earth what he thinks should be heaven’s purpose (cf. Isa 22:22–24). Right after receiving the keys, Peter promises that Jesus will not die in Jerusalem (Matt 16:22). On the mount of transfiguration, Peter wants to build three tabernacles for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah—after which the heavenly voice corrects Peter with the admonition, “Listen to [Jesus]!” (17:4–5). Next, Peter tries to limit the number of times forgiveness should be extended (18:21). Later, he wants some assurance from Jesus that he and the rest of the disciples will be rewarded for giving up everything to follow him (19:27). Finally, Peter promises that he will never disown Jesus even though Jesus had prophesied that Peter would deny him (26:33–35; cf. Isa 22:25). First prophesied as the rock of the church, now identified as the ultimate traitor in the story of redemption—Peter appears as the embodiment of self-contradiction. So, whatever we make of these paradoxical prophecies, Matthew makes it quite evident that Peter had a lot to learn even though he was the first to confess Jesus as the Messiah. Peter appears as a leader in training, preparing for the time when Jesus will leave his disciples. Then, they would have to contend with the gates of hell in his absence. Indeed, when that day comes, rather than the kingdom of heaven coming to earth, it would surely seem to Peter and the disciples that earth had fallen to hell’s purpose.

LIVE the Story

“The gates of hell will not prevail.” Of all the things Jesus said that day to Peter and the disciples, nothing would have sounded more incredibly optimistic than that claim. Peter will be the leader of the church? “Yes,” the Twelve might have thought, “we can see that, even though he’s nothing more than a fisherman.” But for Jesus to predict that all the powers of hell—even death—would never defeat his church? Well, imagine how peculiar that would have sounded to the Twelve. Everyone dies; and, as they were about to find out in the very next verse, even Jesus was destined to die (Matt 16:21). So how could it be that the ultimate adversary of all humanity, death itself, would never have its way with Jesus’s followers? Of course, two-thousand years later, we see what Jesus meant—not only his resurrection but also the irrepressible presence of the church have proven his words true. We must remember, however, that at this point the Twelve have no idea that Jesus will leave them soon. We see how hard it was for the disciples to accept that their Messiah would die on a cross (not to mention the unfathomable notion of his being raised from the dead). Even though Jesus told them several times about this drastic turn of events that would occur once they arrived in Jerusalem, the disciples refused to believe it. Who can blame them? How could something so horrible happen to someone so divine? Besides, with these words ringing in their ears, “the gates of hell will not prevail,” the church was supposed to be an impregnable fortress, a bastion of security against the fallen powers of this world. It’s no wonder Peter went about wielding the keys of the kingdom like a sword, promising that no harm would come to Jesus. Peter took Jesus’s declaration seriously—his words were supposed to be so reliable you could build your life on them, weathering even the worst storms (7:24–27).

When I think about it now, even with hundreds of years of history between us, it was an incredibly risky move for Jesus to establish the eternal success of the kingdom on Simon Peter due to his simple profession. All he said was, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” That’s it. Just a handful of words, and then Jesus starts handing over keys to the kingdom. I would have expected more from Peter, some demonstration of a commitment that went beyond words. How about a sacred ritual where Peter swears allegiance to Jesus to seal their alliance? Or, given their location, perhaps Jesus could have required Peter to build him a temple or a magnificent monument to his kingdom purpose, like the local shrine to the Greek god Pan¹³ or the nearby city built by Herod and named after Caesar, Caesarea Philippi. Jesus talked about building his church on a rock, a permanent memorial on earth of his heavenly kingdom. Even to this day, you can travel to the highest mountains around the world or to the most remote corners of the earth and see massive cathedrals or modest tabernacles—all dedicated to the work of Christ and his church. But Jesus never required that. He gave Peter no architectural plans to ensure that his church would stand as an everlasting monument to the end of time (Peter tried to build him a tabernacle! See 17:4). There were no rituals to perform, no vows to swear (of course not! 5:34–37), no pledge of allegiance to recite to preserve the integrity of his church. “Now, everyone place your hand over your heart—you too, Judas—and say, ‘I pledge allegiance to the Christ, the Son of the living God, and to the kingdom for which it stands, one church, under God, indivisible, with mercy and justice for all.’ ” No. All Jesus needed was to hear Peter confess, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” He didn’t even make anyone write it down—a document to pass around for everyone to sign. Rather, all that happened that day, the foundation of what would become the church of Jesus Christ, were spoken words. Things said, things heard. And that astounds me.

Yet, then again, words are powerful things. Authors use them to create imaginary worlds. Politicians use them to promise fantasy worlds. God used them to create the world, “ ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light” (Gen 1:3). So, it shouldn’t surprise us that the one who refused to perform a “sign from heaven” would rely on words to create the church on earth—a people who would carry his words in their hearts until the last day—an eternal, living memorial to the kingdom of heaven. “ ‘Let there be the church,’ and there was the church. And it was very good.” We are the result of his words, the embodiment of his work, because we confess with our mouths and believe in our hearts words. Or, to use Paul’s words, “We are God’s poem [poiēma] created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared beforehand in order that we might walk in them” (Eph 2:10, translation mine).

There’s a scene from one of my favorite movies, A River Runs through It, that reminds me of the reason why Jesus counted on words so much. It’s the last line of the movie based on Norman Maclean’s autobiography, A River Runs through It and Other Stories, that especially reveals what I would call Maclean’s “theology of words”—a divine mystery that must be incarnated to be understood.¹⁴ As an old man, Norman has returned to the Blackfoot River, where his father taught him and his brother, Paul, so many lessons about God’s grace, life’s mysteries, and the beautiful wonders of their homeland, Montana. We see the old version of Norman trying to tie a fly to his line, hands shaking from age. Eventually, he casts his line into the river, hoping a trout will rise, bringing another chance to relive his history. The camera moves in for a close-up; we see deep lines etched on his face, a dark look of sadness reflected in his eyes, the sorrow of loneliness caused by a life of tragedy—the early death of his brother and the most recent passing of his beloved wife. The camera pulls back, allowing us to take in the beauty of the canyon, the sunlight bouncing diamonds on the water that never sleeps. Then, at the very moment when we are caught between the wonder and the heartache of this solitary figure fishing for luck, words fall like leaves into the river that runs through our souls:

Eventually, all things merge into one and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over the rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.

I am haunted by waters.¹⁵

Tragedy and beauty. Mystery and wonder. Rocks and words.

I love the line, “under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.” Indeed, since God created all things with words, then under the “basement of time” are words that hold up all things. Words we say, words we hear; words that are spoken, words that are timeless as rock. For even Jesus chose to build his church upon the rock of words. Words they needed to say, words they needed to hear. Yet, there were still more things to say, more things to be heard: “From that time on Jesus began to explain to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things” (Matt 16:21).

I am haunted by these words.

1. Also France, Matthew, 605.

2. According to Chrysostom, Jesus took his disciples to the northern border of Israel so that they could speak their mind in a “safe place,” away from the threat of his opponents (Homilies, 332).

3. France believes the comparison was made due to Jesus’s harsh criticism of the temple that eventually resulted in his death (Matthew, 616–17).

4. For a helpful, concise discussion of interpretive options, see Luz, Matthew, 2:362–64; also Bruner, Matthew, 2:128–35.

5. Luz makes a helpful comparison to sort out Peter’s unique literary role in Matthew by considering parallels with the “beloved disciple” in John’s Gospel (Matthew, 2:367; for a brief history of interpretation regarding Peter’s role in the church, see ibid., 366–68).

6. A new name (“Rock”) for a new people of God (“church”). See Davies and Allison, Matthew, 2:625–27.

7. For a helpful survey and critique of the Catholic interpretation of Peter as the first pope, see Talbert, Matthew, 197–200.

8. Garland, Reading Matthew, 173–74.

9. Keener, Matthew, 426–27.

10. Some scholars point to the significance of the future, perfect, passive periphrasis (future tense of eimi plus perfect, passive participle) to indicate that Peter was to bind on earth what had already been bound in heaven—a kind of divine guidance rather than heavenly endorsement; see France, Matthew, 626–27; Bruner, Matthew, 2:133–34. Bruner wonders whether Jesus’s instructions to the Twelve to “shake the dust off your feet” (10:13–15) was an illustration of binding and loosing (ibid., 133).

11. Keener’s brief summation of Peter’s role (Matthew, 429–30) is helpful: Was Peter supposed to be the prime minister (first pope), chief rabbi (key interpreter of Jesus’s teaching), or premier evangelist (top spokesman; see the book of Acts)?

12. Meyer hears temple language in Jesus’s pronouncement, identifying the “cosmic rock” of Zion—the primordial foundation of the world—upon which the church as the temple of God would be built; see Ben F. Meyer, The Aims of Jesus, Princeton Theological Monograph Series 48 (London: SCM, 1979), 185–97. The implications of Meyer’s approach are fascinating, given the fact that this entire episode is preceded by the demand for a cosmic sign “in heaven.” Jesus, on the other hand, will perform a cosmic sign on earth: building the eternal temple of God “made without human hands” on earth via the resurrection.

13. See Keener, Matthew, 424; Davies and Allison, Matthew, 2:616.

14. Norman Maclean, A River Runs through It and Other Stories (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1976).

15. Ibid., 104.