Is all this talk about the Sinai covenant and the theme of “bearing Yahweh’s name” just an Old Testament thing? Is it relevant to Christians today? Or is it merely something of historical interest? To answer these questions, we need to look carefully at how the New Testament interacts with these questions. Is it “out with the old, in with the new”? Or is the Sinai covenant still in effect?
WHERE’S YAHWEH
IN THE NEW TESTAMENT?
One thing becomes clear right away when we turn the page from Malachi to Matthew. A remarkable shift occurs. The name “Yahweh” disappears completely. Two factors play into this. The first is the change in language from Hebrew and Aramaic to Greek. (“Yahweh” is very hard to say because Greek lacks both “y” and “w.” Come to think of it, there’s not really a letter “h” either.) A second factor that explains the disappearance of Yahweh’s name is Jewish reverence. Jews by the time of Jesus decided that it’s best not to say the divine name at all to avoid the risk of profaning it.1 However, these reasons do not entirely explain the shift.
Let’s first look at how Jesus interacts with God’s name. During his earthly ministry, Jesus prays for the sanctification of his Father’s name, and he makes that name known. But after his death, the name “Jesus” comes to the forefront of the church’s expression of faith, becoming the only name “by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12). In some way, the divine name is transferred to Jesus. Let’s find out how.
When Jesus is born, Matthew emphasizes the significance of the event by highlighting his name. The infant is called the Messiah, or anointed one (Matthew 1:16), but he is named Jesus, which means “Yahweh saves” (Matthew 1:21, 25). Messiah is his title. Jesus is his name. This name will mean more to us if we recall a bit of history. At Sinai, Moses had a right-hand man named Hoshea, which means (rather ambiguously) “he saves” (see Numbers 13:8). Who saves? The name doesn’t specify, though the man himself is never given credit for saving Israel. Hoshea was a military hero and one of the twelve spies that Moses sent to scope out the land of Canaan. We encountered the story already: ten of the spies come back terrified, claiming that the residents are too strong to confront. Hoshea is one of the two who insist that Yahweh is able to conquer the land of Canaan. He and Caleb put their confidence in God’s strength. It is then that Moses changes Hoshea’s name to Yeshua, in English Joshua, a name which means “Yahweh saves” (Numbers 14:6).2 There can no longer be any doubt about the source of salvation.
The Greek name Jesus (Iesou) is a translation of the Hebrew Yeshua—Yahweh saves.3 Just like Joshua, Jesus’ own name announces that Yahweh has come to save his people. Unlike Joshua, Jesus’ name says something about its bearer. His birth signifies the return of Yahweh to his people, recalling the name prophesied by Isaiah: “Immanuel,” God with us (Matthew 1:23). Through the incarnation, Yahweh has come to be with his people and save them. The name “Immanuel” implies not only that God’s presence is evident in the events surrounding Jesus’ birth, but that Jesus is Yahweh himself, come to be with his people.4
That’s what makes it all the more striking that Jesus does not focus on his own name. Instead, he magnifies the name of his Father. When he teaches his disciples to pray, approaching God with hearts wide open, he prays that the Father’s name would be sanctified, reversing centuries of its desecration through Israel’s unfaithfulness to the covenant (Matthew 6:9; Luke 11:2). Jesus’ prayer, “hallowed be your name,” is not just wishful thinking, as though Jesus is hoping that Yahweh is doing well up there. His prayer implies a personal commitment to honoring that name through a life of faithful obedience. He fulfills Israel’s vocation to bear Yahweh’s name with honor.
Jesus’ prayer, “hallowed be your name,” is not just wishful thinking, as though Jesus is hoping that Yahweh is doing well up there. His prayer implies a personal commitment to honoring that name through a life of faithful obedience.
For Jesus, calling on God’s name is not enough, nor is prophecy, exorcism, or miracles done in his name. The key disposition of one who truly belongs to God is a commitment to action—to doing his will rather than one’s own (Matthew 7:21-22; cf. Luke 6:46). The name of God is not a charm to be used at will. It is not a magic amulet to guarantee protection. Those who fail to carry out God’s will bear his name in vain. Jesus has no patience for those whose verbal proclamations do not match their agenda. He condemns the Pharisees and scribes for having lips and hearts that contradict each other, saying that they “worship [God] in vain” (Mark 7:5-7). They walk around wearing official religious titles, but their hearts are haughty and self-reliant.
Jesus takes his vocation as Yahweh’s representative so seriously that others can see Yahweh by looking at him. John repeatedly highlights this, noting that Jesus had been sent by the Father to carry out his work in the world. “The works that the Father has given me to finish—the very works that I am doing—testify that the Father has sent me” (John 5:36). He goes on, “I have come in my Father’s name” (5:43). Jesus is the segullah, the treasured one appointed to represent Yahweh. He even tells his disciples, “The one who looks at me is seeing the one who sent me” (John 12:45). This is not just because he is God incarnate. It’s also because his behavior and his character reflect God’s the way every covenant member’s character should. He wants his disciples to imitate him. He explains, “I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you” (John 13:15).5
By bearing God’s name, Jesus lives out Israel’s vocation, showing us how it ought to be done.
Jesus can tell his disciples, “If you really know me, you will know my Father as well” (John 14:7). He even claims to have been “marked . . . with [the Father’s] seal” (John 6:27). I have already described the ancient practice of using engraved gemstones, or seals, to stamp documents as a signature or to make an impression on a lump of clay over a jar opening in order to authorize its contents. I also mentioned the discovery of divine seals, bearing the name of a god, used to authorize temple documents or lay claim to temple property. Jesus’ awareness of having been marked by his Father’s seal fits this concept well. While not all stamp seals were inscribed with a name, most Israelite seals were. Jesus’ claim to have been marked with a divine seal indicates that he sees himself as wearing an invisible tattoo with Yahweh’s name on his person. His highest goal is to bring that name glory (John 12:28).
By bearing God’s name, Jesus lives out Israel’s vocation, showing us how it ought to be done. We’ll look next at how Matthew portrays him as a human who embodies all that Israel was supposed to be and do, while at the same time showing us he is greater than Moses because he is the lawgiver himself.
Matthew does far more than simply record what happened to Jesus. His gospel is creatively structured and brilliantly written. Mount Sinai looms large in his gospel! Here’s how:
Matthew’s gospel breaks neatly into five blocks of teaching, mimicking the five books of the Torah (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy). These five blocks of teaching are preceded by an introductory story in which Jesus’ life is in danger because King Herod, like Pharaoh, is killing Jewish babies. To escape, his parents take him to Egypt. It’s an inside-out exodus story! When the coast is clear, they return to Palestine, retracing Israel’s journey from Egypt to the promised land. Next we fast-forward to Jesus’ adulthood, where he passes through the waters of baptism in the Jordan, reminding us of Israel’s crossing both the Reed (Red) Sea and the Jordan.
After this, Jesus is sent by the Spirit into the wilderness for forty days, where he reenacts Israel’s wilderness wanderings (Matthew 4:1-11). The tempter comes to him three times, calling Jesus’ true identity into question: “If you are the Son of God . . .” Each time, Jesus responds by quoting Scripture. His choice of passages is not random. Jesus chooses precisely those chapters of Deuteronomy where Moses is reminding the Israelites of the lessons they ought to have learned in the wilderness, lessons Jesus knows by heart. Let’s take a closer look.
First, the devil tries to entice Jesus to provide bread for himself. After forty days without food, Jesus is understandably hungry. Unlike the Israelites of old, Jesus does not complain or fall into despair. He trusts his Father, responding to the devil with the last line of Deuteronomy 8:3, “Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD.” Makes sense, right? But to get the full impact of Jesus’ quotation, we need the previous verse for context:
Remember how the LORD your God led you all the way in the wilderness these forty years, to humble and test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your ancestors had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD.” (Deuteronomy 8:2-3)
Jesus knew exactly what he was doing. He was reliving Israel’s story. And he was demonstrating his dependence on the Father’s provision, resisting the urge to rely on his own strength. Yahweh had called Israel his firstborn son (Exodus 4:22), and he provided for their needs in the wilderness. Jesus knows that his needs will be met, too.
Next, the devil takes Jesus to the holy city (on Mount Zion!), bringing him to the pinnacle of the temple. He tries to beat Jesus at his own game by quoting Scripture: “‘If you are the Son of God,’ he said, ‘throw yourself down. For it is written: “He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone”’” (Matthew 4:6). Satan wants Jesus to force God’s hand, testing his identity by demanding a dramatic rescue.
Jesus won’t budge. He quotes the first part of Deuteronomy 6:16, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.” The rest reads, “as you did at Massah.” We can read the story of Massah in Exodus 17. The people are quarrelsome, demanding that Moses give them water to drink. They whine, “Why did you bring us up out of Egypt to make us and our children and livestock die of thirst?” (Exodus 17:3). They test Yahweh, saying, “Is the LORD among us or not?” (Exodus 17:7). If the demand for water to prove God’s presence is inappropriate, how much more so is a risky jump from the peak of the temple? Jesus will not manipulate God’s hand to rescue him. He will not repeat Israel’s mistake.
The devil makes a final attempt, this time appealing to human lust for power. He takes Jesus to “a very high mountain” (reminiscent of Sinai?), where he can see all the kingdoms of the world (Matthew 4:8). “All this I will give you,” he promises, “if you will bow down and worship me” (Matthew 4:9). Satan offers Jesus a shortcut to power. If Jesus is the Messiah, all nations will eventually bow at his feet (see Psalm 2). The end result is what God has already planned, but the devil’s shortcut to that end is a direct violation of the first commandment.
Without hesitation, Jesus paraphrases Deuteronomy 6:13, “Worship the LORD your God and serve him only.” No path to success is the right path if it violates the covenant. The end does not justify the means.
With this, the devil leaves Jesus. The Messiah has passed the test that Israel failed. Matthew wants us to see Jesus as the new Israel. He is walking the same paths, reliving Israel’s story, but maintaining covenant faithfulness all the way. All this sets the stage for the heart of Matthew’s gospel—the five sermons given by Jesus during his ministry. Other gospel writers focus more on his miracles or his signs or his suffering. For Matthew, the core of Jesus’ ministry is his words.
I’ve already demonstrated the centrality of the Sinai narratives to the Torah. Everything from Exodus 19 to Numbers 10 (fifty-nine chapters of material!) happens at Sinai. It’s no wonder that the core of Matthew’s Torah-shaped account is Jesus’ teaching on a mountain.
Matthew’s first block of Jesus’ teaching is known as the Sermon on the Mount. That alone should be a dead giveaway. Jesus chooses a mountainside as the context for his instructions. Not only that, he starts in on the law almost immediately: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets: I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them” (Matthew 5:17). If anyone was hoping to be done with Sinai now that Jesus is here, this is the moment of truth. He upholds the law, telling the crowds that every commandment matters and that entrance to God’s kingdom requires a righteousness even greater than that of the current Jewish religious leaders. Uh-oh.
Then he begins to get uncomfortably specific, pointing out areas in which his contemporaries have let things slide. “You have heard that it was said . . .” he begins, addressing murder, adultery, divorce, oaths, judgment, and loving their neighbor. If they’ve tried to dodge their responsibility (“I haven’t killed anyone, so I’m basically okay”), Jesus asks them to take a closer look. He raises the bar by returning to the original intent of the Sinai instructions. “You have heard that it was said . . . but I tell you.” I tell you not even to be angry; not ever to let conflict go unreconciled; not even to look with lust; not to divorce except in extreme circumstances; not to swear oaths at all; not to resist an evil person; not to hate your enemy, but rather to love them. Jesus does not do away with the Old Testament law. He calls people back to it. And he holds them to it.
Jesus does not do away with the Old Testament law. He calls people back to it.
Jesus is also clear about what covenant faithfulness should look like to others. Bearing Yahweh’s name does not mean that we are to make our religious observances publicly conspicuous. Jesus warns his disciples not to pray on the street corners or make it obvious that they’re fasting in order to be seen (Matthew 6:5, 16).
He defines discipleship around obedience. It’s not enough to claim allegiance to Jesus; one must also do God’s will. Lip service to Jesus without action that flows out of an intimate relationship is falsely bearing his name (Matthew 7:21-23).
So there’s Jesus, on a mountain, teaching with authority about the Jewish law. Are we supposed to see him as Moses? I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve heard or read that when Jesus climbed up on the mountain to teach his disciples that he’s acting like a “new Moses” or perhaps the “prophet like Moses” described in Deuteronomy 18:9-22. In that passage, Moses had announced, “The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your fellow Israelites. You must listen to him” (Deuteronomy 18:15).
However, the point of Deuteronomy 18:9-22 is to contrast the ways that other nations seek divine guidance (e.g., sorcery and witchcraft) with the way Israel is to hear from Yahweh—through the prophets he sends them—as well as to warn them to watch for false prophets. Moses does not anticipate a single prophet at the end of the ages, but rather a succession of prophets: Yahweh’s ongoing provision for them to know what he expects of them. New Testament passages that refer back to Deuteronomy 18 do so in reference to the line of prophets rejected by the Israelites (see Acts 3:22-23 and 7:37). If there is an expectation of an end-times prophet, the New Testament clearly identifies that prophet as John the Baptist, announcing the coming of Jesus.6 While Jesus shares some similarities with the prophets, he clearly supersedes them.
Here’s the bottom line: Jesus is not simply a conduit of God’s teachings the way Moses was. He is the source of those teachings. He possesses authority that Moses and the other prophets never had. Moses was only a messenger. Jesus is both the sender and deliverer of the message. Jesus is Yahweh in the flesh. He doesn’t say “thus says the Lord.” His teaching comes from within: “I tell you.”
The crowds are amazed at his authority (Matthew 7:29). As they should be.
Jesus demonstrates this authority in other ways, too. A story will help us understand the relationship between Jesus and the Sinai instructions. In Matthew 12, we join Jesus and his disciples as they walk through a field of grain on the Sabbath. The Pharisees, the self-appointed Jewish lawyers of the day, watch on the sidelines with narrowed eyes as the hungry disciples rub stalks of wheat between their hands to remove grain and then pop it in their mouths to chew on. The Pharisees toss their penalty flags on the field and spring into action, “Look! Your disciples are breaking Sabbath law!”
The crux of the Pharisees’ objection to the disciples is not the behavior itself. The law clearly gave permission to eat grain from a neighbor’s field as long as it was picked by hand, not using harvest tools (see Deuteronomy 23:25). No, their objection was not to the eating of grain, it was an issue of breaking the Sabbath, a serious offense worthy of the death penalty (see Exodus 31:14). It was not unlawful to eat on the Sabbath, but harvesting grain was out of bounds according to Jewish leaders, and in their the Pharisees’ narrow view of the law, the disciples were engaged in harvesting. In other words, the law they had broken is not explicit in the Torah but falls in the category of law-breaking behavior as defined by the current religious administration.
Jesus is unruffled. He easily beats them at their own game, shrewdly citing three Old Testament texts as justification for their actions. First, he brings up David: “Haven’t you read what David did when he and his companions were hungry? He entered the house of God, and he and his companions ate the consecrated bread—which was not lawful for them to do, but only for the priests” (Matthew 12:3-4). Of course the Pharisees had read the story of David, Israel’s rightful, anointed king on the run from the ruler whom Yahweh had rejected, King Saul.7
Matthew has already made clear in the early chapters of his book that Jesus is the son of David (Matthew 1:1, 20), anointed by God’s Spirit (Matthew 3:16-17), who is experiencing increasing opposition from Jewish leaders (Matthew 9:3, 11, 34; 10:16-31). Surely Jesus had in mind the analogy to his own situation. The statement Jesus makes through the use of this story is subtle but radical. He seems to be suggesting that the same legal exemptions that applied in the case of David—Israel’s true king in exile—also apply to him and his disciples. No wonder the Pharisees were incensed!
Jesus’ second example also relates to temple worship: “Or haven’t you read in the Law that the priests on Sabbath duty in the temple desecrate the Sabbath and yet are innocent?” (Matthew 12:5). Obviously, priests must work on the Sabbath because their work is necessary for proper worship to take place. Therefore, they are innocent. Jesus follows this observation with an oblique claim: “I tell you that something [or someone] greater than the temple is here” (Matthew 12:6). Jesus does not merely equate his ministry with the priesthood, which in itself would have been seen as blasphemous. More than that, he claims directly that he and/or his ministry is greater than the temple!8
Then, as if he had not insulted them enough already, Jesus insinuates that they have not understood the Old Testament at all: “If you had known what these words mean, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice,’ you would not have condemned the innocent” (Matthew 12:7). His quotation about mercy points to a section of Hosea in which God judges Judah for breaking their covenant with Him, especially the priests (Hosea 6:6). In fact, Hosea accuses the priests of murder (6:9)! Is Jesus implying that the Pharisees’ failure to understand Hosea’s message puts them in the same category as these seditious Jewish leaders?
Jesus concludes his argument with a rapid one-two punch. First, he claims directly the innocence of his disciples (Matthew 12:7). Then, in case the Pharisees have missed his subtle allusions, he states that “the Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath” (Matthew 12:8). “Son of Man” is Jesus’ favorite self-designation, a veiled way of pointing to his divinely delegated authority. The plain meaning of the phrase is simply “human,” but it carries greater connotations because in Daniel’s vision (Daniel 7:13) “one like a son of man” is given an everlasting dominion and an indestructible kingdom. In the vision, this figure represents God’s holy people who will rule on his behalf (see Daniel 7:27). It is no surprise that the Pharisees are enraged and later seek to destroy him. By calling himself the “Son of Man,” Jesus’ claims are enormous: authority to set aside Sabbath laws, correctly interpret the Hebrew Scriptures, and even to reign over God’s kingdom! He is greater than the law. He is the lawgiver.
From there he enters the synagogue where the Jewish leaders try to trap him again, asking him if it’s lawful to heal on the Sabbath. Jesus cleverly heals a man with just a word—something that cannot be construed as lawless behavior, even on the Sabbath. Again the situation is a slap in the face to Israel’s leaders. The man he healed had a shriveled hand, evoking the story of Israel’s ancient king, Jeroboam. Jeroboam’s hand had shriveled when he stretched it out against the true prophet of Yahweh, giving orders to seize him (1 Kings 13:4). The prophet then prayed and the king’s hand was restored. Jesus doesn’t pray. He simply tells the man with a shriveled hand to stretch it out and be restored. The incident confirms Jesus as one even greater than a prophet while exposing Israel’s leaders as the enemies of Yahweh.
Matthew follows this story with a lengthy quotation from Isaiah 42, identifying Jesus as the servant that the prophet had announced would come. However, instead of following the Hebrew Old Testament, which reads, “in his torah the islands will put their hope,” Matthew follows the Greek Old Testament, which reads, “in his name the nations will put their hope” (Matthew 12:21, quoting Isaiah 42:4). Jesus does not set aside the Torah, but he is so much greater. It all points to him.
The Sermon on the Mount shows that Jesus understands himself as one who possesses authority to interpret the law and give fresh revelation. His Sabbath interchange portrays him as Lord of the Sabbath, one greater than the temple, with power to heal. If his divine identity is still veiled to some, it won’t be for much longer. The mountain of transfiguration makes it obvious.
This lesson concerning Jesus’ identity is confirmed in a dramatic way. He brings Peter, James, and John, his closest disciples, up a high mountain. Time after time, Jesus + mountain = something interesting. This time is no exception. When they reached the pinnacle, Jesus’ “face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light” (Matthew 17:2). It was a glorious revelation. This event has Sinai written all over it—the cloud, the glory, the divine voice. Moments later, they have company—Moses and Elijah. Both men are back from the dead, conversing with Jesus on the mountain. In different eras, both had conversed with Yahweh at Mount Sinai. Both had witnessed Yahweh’s glory before their very eyes, but they had only been allowed to see God’s back. Now they see his face—the face of Jesus. And it shines gloriously.
Moses had seen Yahweh when he revealed himself to the exodus generation and entered into the covenant with them, appointing them as his special representatives to bear his name among the nations. Elijah had seen Yahweh when it looked like that covenant was in tatters, with only a small remnant of faithful Israelites. Moses witnessed the failure of the golden calf within days of the covenant’s beginning. Likewise, most in Elijah’s day had fallen into the worship of other gods and failed to represent Yahweh well. Like Jesus, both men “suffered rejection and hostility from the people to whom they were sent.”9 Jesus has already explained that his glory would come through suffering. Moses and Elijah could both testify to the truth of this in their own ministries. Because both men passed from this earth in supernatural fashion—Moses buried by God on Mount Nebo and Elijah transported to heaven in a flaming chariot—they came to represent the messianic age, igniting the hopes of Israel for God’s intervention.10 Now the disciples witness Jesus’ glory, God-made-flesh, as the covenant is being renewed through his ministry. Jesus is also the one who models covenant faithfulness for Israel by representing the Father perfectly.
Peter thinks he has a bright idea: let’s put up shelters for each of you! Like King David, he takes the initiative, wanting to build a house for God, wanting to make this moment endure. Glory is a bit more of what he had in mind for Jesus rather than the suffering Jesus had predicted. But before Peter can finish speaking, God the Father answers, surrounding them with a bright cloud: “This is my son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!” (Matthew 17:5)
The divine voice puts Peter in his place: your job is to listen to Jesus, not to try to manage my glory. “Listen to him” (Matthew 17:5) echoes Deuteronomy 18:15-19, where the people are told to pay attention to the “prophet like Moses” who will arise.11 Jesus inherits the legacy of the prophets who reveal God’s word to the people of faith, but this particular prophet is even greater than Moses. The glory is his own. Jesus trumps both Moses and Elijah because they disappear, leaving him to carry out deliverance for Israel.12
And then it’s over. As quickly as it started, Moses and Elijah are gone. Jesus rouses his disciples from their trembling face plant and they return down the mountain. But what they saw they will not soon forget.
Before we leave this mountain, we must ask what it means for followers of Jesus today. New Testament scholar Michael Kibbe recently wrote that the story of the transfiguration is not just about a revelation of Jesus’ divine identity, it’s also about us. The key to this connection is Jesus’ shining face. Perhaps you remember Moses’ experience on the mountain: “When Moses came down from Mount Sinai with the two tablets of the covenant law in his hands, he was not aware that his face was radiant because he had spoken with the LORD” (Exodus 34:29). Each time Moses meets with Yahweh, his face glows as he relays Yahweh’s message to the people.
Paul reflects on this in his second letter to the church in Corinth. He says, “He anointed us, set his seal of ownership on us, and put his Spirit in our hearts as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come” (2 Corinthians 1:21-22). Paul goes on to compare his ministry with the ministry of Moses in chapter three. Moses’ radiance gradually faded and needed constant renewal. For that reason, the glory Moses experienced pales in comparison with Jesus’ glory, which never fades. But here’s the payoff: “And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit” (2 Corinthians 3:18). Instead of fading, our glory gets brighter and brighter.
Moses’ face shone when he saw Yahweh, but he veiled it because the Israelites could not bear to look at it (Exodus 34:29-35). Our faces also reflect God’s glory, and we experience transformation so that we look more and more like him. Jesus’ transfiguration offers us a preview of our own transfiguration: It points to the new creation.
Jesus’ resurrection is the first glimpse we get of new creation. He’s called the “firstborn from among the dead” (Colossians 1:18). He is not simply resuscitated, as Lazarus and Talitha and others are, for those others will die again. Not Jesus. Jesus is raised to a different kind of life. He can eat and drink, but he’s also able to walk through walls. His body will no longer decay. He will never die. Jesus is the first to enter the renewed creation. His bodily resurrection is our assurance—proof positive—that we will be raised to that kind of life as well. As we gaze at him, we begin to reflect that new creation glory.
Kibbe explains, “If the light of the gospel has shone in our hearts, we are responsible to make that light as visible as possible to those around us.”13 Jesus shines, not so that we can soak it in for ourselves, but so that we can reflect the glory to others.
DIGGING DEEPER
*Richard Bauckham. Jesus and the God of Israel: God Crucified and Other Studies on the New Testament’s Christology of Divine Identity. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008.
R. T. France. The Gospel of Matthew. NICNT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007.
Richard B. Hays. Echoes of Scripture in the Gospels. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2016.
*Michael Harrison Kibbe. “Our Future in the Face of Jesus.” Christianity Today. July/August 2017, 66-69.
Related videos from The Bible Project: “God,” “Messiah,” and “Heaven and Earth.”