E. The Testing of the Son of God (4:1–11)

1Then Jesus was taken up1 into the wilderness by the Spirit to be tested2 by the devil. 2He went without food for forty days and forty nights, and in the end he was famished. 3Then the tempter approached him and said, “If you are the Son of God, give orders for these stones to become loaves of bread.” 4But Jesus replied, “It is written,

‘A person is not to3 live on bread alone,

but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’ ”

5Then the devil transported4 him to the holy city and made him stand on a high corner5 of the temple, 6and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written that

‘He will make his angels responsible for you,

and they will lift you in their arms

so that you never hit your foot against a stone.’ ”

7Jesus replied, “It is written also,

‘You are not to put the Lord your God to the test.’ ”

8Again the devil transported him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in all their glory, 9and said to him, “I will give you all this, if you will bow down and worship me.”6 10Then Jesus said to him, “Away with you, Satan; for it is written,

‘You are to worship the Lord your God;

he is the only one you are to serve.’ ”

11Then the devil left him alone, and angels came to him and took care of7 him.

All three synoptic writers record an experience of Jesus in the wilderness in confrontation with the devil immediately after his baptismal revelation and before his return to Galilee. But while Mark presents only a brief tableau of the opposing forces, Matthew and Luke record a three-point dialogue between the tempter and Jesus which explores more deeply the nature of the “testing” involved, the details of which, if they are not purely imaginary, can only have come from Jesus’ own subsequent recalling of the event.

Matthew and Luke present the second and third elements in the dialogue in a different order. Reasons for preferring each order can be suggested. Luke’s order brings the series to a climax with the devil’s subtlest ploy in that he in his turn offers a scriptural text in support of his proposal. Luke’s special interest in Jerusalem may also have led him to prefer concluding the story there. In Matthew’s account, however, the more subtle suggestions of the first two proposals are succeeded by a blatant challenge to God’s authority when the devil “drops his disguise” (Schweizer, 58) and the central issue is brought into the open. Matthew’s account thus ends on a more decisive note, which he will exploit at the end of his gospel with an allusion to this third temptation in Jesus’ eventual claim to an authority greater than anything the devil could offer (28:18). The escalation of the issues posed is appropriately symbolized by the geographical escalation from the wilderness to a high point in Jerusalem and then to a very high mountain. Matthew’s inclusion of “Away with you, Satan” in Jesus’ third reply suitably brings the confrontation to a close. The majority of recent interpreters think Matthew’s order, which also brings the two “Son of God” temptations together at the beginning, more likely to be original.8

This incident is traditionally described as “the temptation of Jesus.” But the English language cannot represent the ambivalence of the key Greek verb peirazō and its derivatives. In so far as the devil is portrayed as trying to induce Jesus to act against the will of God, “tempt” is the right meaning, but the same verb frequently means to “test” with no pejorative connotation. Its other uses in Matthew are of human subjects who come to Jesus with hard questions hoping to catch him out or expose him (16:1; 19:3; 22:18, 35); the meaning is in each case pejorative, but the questions involved are not “temptations” to do wrong, but dialogue challenges from Jesus’ enemies. Here the introduction to the pericope indicates that while the “testing/tempting” is to be carried out by the devil, the whole experience takes place under the guidance of the Spirit and therefore according to the purpose of God. Underlying it, as we shall see, is an OT passage which speaks of Israel’s wilderness experiences similarly as a “test” (LXX expeirazō) designed by God “to find out what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commandments.” (Deut 8:2; cf 8:16) In the interpretation that follows I shall try to show that it is primarily concerned with this divine “testing,” rather than the Satanic “tempting” which was its means. The title given by B. Gerhardsson to his illuminating monograph on this pericope, The Testing of God’s Son, seems to me to sum up its thrust admirably.

The focus of the “testing” agenda is indicated by the clause which introduces the devil’s first two suggestions, “If you are the Son of God.” The link with 3:17 is obvious. The special relationship with God which has just been authoritatively declared at the Jordan is now under scrutiny. The following clauses do not cast doubt on this filial relationship, but explore its possible implications: what is the appropriate way for God’s Son to behave in relation to his Father? In what ways might he exploit this relationship to his own advantage? The actions suggested are ones which might be expected to put that relationship under strain. The devil is trying to drive a wedge between the newly-declared Son and his Father.

This understanding of the story leaves little room for the popular notion that what is under scrutiny here is the nature of Jesus’ messianic agenda. The suggestion that turning stones into bread would be a way of attracting a following by the provision of cheap food, and that an uninjured leap from the temple roof would demonstrate the Messiah’s supernatural credentials to a stunned crowd, does not match the way the story is told: the loaves are to satisfy Jesus’ own hunger, and there is no indication of any spectators for the proposed leap from the temple (even if this is understood as an actual physical event, see on v. 5). The third temptation too appeals to Jesus’ own ambition, and does not mention a messianic agenda.

It will be in his passion in Jerusalem (the “holy city,” v. 5) that Jesus’ loyalty to his role as Son of God will be supremely tested, and some features of Matthew’s wording link these two episodes at the beginning and end of his story. The devil’s temptation will be echoed by the crowd who call on Jesus to come down from the cross “if you are the Son of God” (27:40). In 26:53 Jesus will claim, but refuse to exercise, the right to call on legions of angels to deliver him (cf. 4:6). And the final dismissal, “Away with you, Satan,” will be deployed again against Peter when he tries to dissuade Jesus, whom he has just recognized as the Son of God, from going to the cross (16:23).

The most significant key to the understanding of this story is to be found in Jesus’ three scriptural quotations. All come from Deut 6–8, the part of Moses’ address to the Israelites before their entry into Canaan in which he reminds them of their forty years of wilderness experiences. It has been a time of preparation and of proving the faithfulness of their God. He has deliberately put them through a time of privation as an educative process. They have been learning, or should have been learning, what it means to live in trusting obedience to God: “As a father disciplines his son, so the Lord your God disciplines you.” (Deut 8:5; for Israel as God’s son cf. Exod 4:22; Jer 31:9; Hos 11:1–4)9 Among the lessons they should now have learned are not to depend on bread alone but rather on God’s word (8:3), not to put God to the test (6:16), and to make God the exclusive object of their worship and obedience (6:13). Now another “Son of God” is in the wilderness, this time for forty days rather than forty years, as a preparation for entering into his divine calling. There in the wilderness he too faces those same tests, and he has learned the lessons which Israel had so imperfectly grasped. His Father is testing him in the school of privation, and his triumphant rebuttal of the devil’s suggestions will ensure that the filial bond can survive in spite of the conflict that lies ahead. Israel’s occupation of the promised land was at best a flawed fulfillment of the hopes with which they came to the Jordan, but this new “Son of God” will not fail and the new Exodus (to which we have seen a number of allusions in ch. 2) will succeed. “Where Israel of old stumbled and fell, Christ the new Israel stood firm.”10 It is probably also significant that the passage of Deuteronomy from which Jesus’ responses are drawn begins with the Š^emaʿ, the text from Deut 6:4–5 recited daily in Jewish worship which requires Israel to “love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength;” it is precisely that total commitment to God that this wilderness experience is designed to test.11

The story of the testing in the wilderness12 is thus an elaborate typological presentation of Jesus as himself the true Israel, the “Son of God” through whom God’s redemptive purpose for his people is now at last to reach its fulfillment.13

1 The fact that Jesus was taken into the wilderness by the Spirit suggests a deliberate “retreat” away from other people, but the specific area of “wilderness” is no more defined here than it was for John in 3:1. The verb “lead up” (see p. 124, n. 1) indicates that it was away from the Jordan, and the story assumes solitude and a lack of food resources, but the mention of a very high mountain in v. 8 cannot determine the overall location since both the mountain and Jerusalem are places to which Jesus needed to be “transported” (see on v. 5). See on 3:1 for the very positive connotations of “wilderness” in Jewish thought at the time; to be in the wilderness was to be prepared for a new beginning with God.

We should not therefore read the presence of the devil as something uniquely appropriate to this area, despite the later monastic tradition of going out into the desert to contend with demons. Indeed to judge by 12:43–45 “waterless places” are the last place a demon wants to be. The devil is present not because this is his domain, but because he has a vital role in the testing which is God’s purpose for this retreat. In this passage we meet the same character under three names, “the devil,” “the tempter” (v. 3) and “Satan” (v. 10). In 12:24 he will appear as “Beelzebul, the ruler of the demons,” and in 13:19 as “the evil one.” The terms “the devil” and “Satan” (which originate respectively from Greek and Hebrew terms for an “accuser” or “opponent”) are virtually interchangeable in the gospel tradition, as throughout the NT. The figure of Satan as an individual spiritual enemy of God and his people is found only rarely in the OT (1 Chr 21:1; Job 1–2; Zech 3:1–2), but by the first century had developed (under a variety of names: Belial, Beliar, Mastema, Azazel, but most commonly Satan) into a standard feature of Jewish belief which the Christian church fully shared. Running through Jewish references to the devil is a tension between his total hostility to God and his people and his operation apparently within and subject to the ultimate sovereignty of God, a tension which Matthew here reflects in that the devil’s intention to “tempt” Jesus to do wrong is subsumed under God’s good purpose to “test” his Son.

2 “Forty days” is used in the Bible as an idiomatic expression for a significant but limited period (e.g. Gen 7:4; Num 13:25; 1 Sam 17:16; Jonah 3:4; Acts 1:3), but Matthew speaks more specifically of “forty days and forty nights,” and in view of his interest elsewhere in Moses and Elijah it is possible that he intends that phrase to recall more specifically either the period spent without food by Moses on Mount Sinai (Exod 24:18; 34:28; Deut 9:9 etc.)14 or by Elijah in the wilderness (1 Kgs 19:8); the latter would be a particularly suggestive allusion in that Elijah’s hunger during that period was miraculously solved by food provided by an angel (cf. v. 11). But in view of the clear background to this story in the pentateuchal narratives of Israel’s wilderness experience (see above) Jesus’ “forty days and forty nights” more obviously serve as a reminder of Israel’s “forty years” of privation and testing.15 Matthew gives us no means of knowing whether Jesus’ fast for this period was deliberately self-imposed or simply the result of lack of available food in the wilderness (where, however, both John the Baptist and Bannus seem to have found adequate resources; see on 3:4). Jesus’ fasting is not presented as a model for his followers’ practice; this is an experience unique to the Son of God at the outset of his mission.

3 Having described Jesus’ situation in the wilderness Matthew now introduces the other principal actor in this scene. The only other NT reference to the devil as “the tempter” is in 1 Thess 3:5; in both places it is not so much an independent title as a functional description of his role in the context. The proposal to turn stones into “loaves of bread”16 is an appeal to the miraculous power assumed to be available to a “son of God.”17 It is not only beneath the dignity of such an exalted figure to suffer hunger, but also unnecessary since he has the means to create food. In this proposal we already hear an echo of Israel’s wilderness experience of hunger, which was met by God’s supply of manna (picked up from the ground, like stones, Exod 16:14–16); history shows that there is no need for God’s son to be hungry in the wilderness.

4 Jesus’ first reply consists solely of a quotation from LXX Deut 8:318—no further argument is needed. As the first part of Deut 8:3 explains, Israel’s hunger had been a part of the educative process designed by God; it was only after they had experienced hunger that they were fed, in God’s good time not at their own convenience. This was to teach them that there are more important things in life (and especially in the life of God’s people) than material provision. The contrast between “bread” and “every word that comes from the mouth of God”19 is of course paradoxical: God’s word does not fill the stomach. But it is a question of priority (which Jesus will express in another form in 6:24–33). Obedience to God’s will takes priority over self-gratification, even over apparently essential provision of food.20 God will provide the food when he is ready—as indeed he will in this case, see v. 11. Jesus’ use of this OT text shows that he understood his experience of hunger as God’s will for him at the time, and therefore not to be evaded by a self-indulgent use of his undoubted power as the Son of God. To do that would be to call in question God’s priorities, and to set himself at odds with his Father’s plan. As God’s Son, Jesus must trustingly and obediently comply with his Father’s purpose (as he has just done at the Jordan, 3:15).

Neither in the devil’s suggestion in v. 3 nor in Jesus’ reply is there any hint of the miraculous provision of bread for others, still less of impressing the crowds by a display of power. In due course Jesus will indeed miraculously provide bread for hungry crowds (14:13–21; 15:32–39), but here there is no crowd, just Jesus alone with the tempter and God. It is Jesus’ filial trust that is under examination, not his messianic agenda.

5 The devil’s first proposal needed no special setting: there in the wilderness Jesus was surrounded by stones. But the remaining two proposals require different settings, and in each case we are told that the devil “transported”21 Jesus to a new location. The fact that no actual mountain could provide a view of “all the kingdoms of the world” at once suggests that this transportation was not physical but visionary. There in the wilderness Jesus “found himself” first on top of the Jerusalem temple and then on an impossibly high mountain with a view of the whole world. Cf. the visionary visit of Ezekiel to Jerusalem while he was in fact in Babylon (Ezek 8:1–3; 11:24).22

It is therefore not very important to decide just which part of the actual Herodian temple was meant by Matthew’s term pterygion, “little wing,” which I have translated “high corner” (see p. 125, n. 5).23 Apart from the parallel in Luke (and subsequent Christian references to this passage) the word is not used elsewhere of a building feature, though there are rare uses of it in classical literature for a projecting piece of a coat of armor or of a rudder or other machinery. The context makes it clear only that it is a high part of the temple from which a fall might be expected to be fatal. This might either be a part of the sanctuary building itself (which was some fifty meters high) or perhaps of the temple’s outer portico which on the east overhung the deep Kidron valley.24 For “the holy city” as a term for Jerusalem see 27:53; Isa 52:1; Dan 9:24; Rev 11:2; 21:2 etc.

6 The devil’s proposal again draws on the assumed privileges of a “son of God.” If Jesus can quote Scripture, so can the devil, and Jesus’ own formula “It is written” is thus deployed against him. The passage quoted from Ps 91:11–12 (in the LXX version, abbreviated)25 is addressed to all who have chosen to “live in the shelter of the Most High;”26 how much more can it be expected to apply to God’s special Son? A similar assumption lies behind the later “temptation” to come down from the cross, “if you are the Son of God.” (27:40) The vivid imagery of the psalm envisages some of the hazards which may be expected to confront God’s people, and promises God’s protection for them, but it does not suggest that they should take the initiative in courting such dangers. The devil’s suggestion, however, is to test out the literal truth of God’s promise of protection by deliberately creating a situation in which he will be obliged to act to save his Son’s life. In this way “man may become lord of God, and compel him to act through the power of his faith.” (Schweizer, 63) It would be “to act as if God is there to serve his Son, rather than the reverse.” (Keener, 141)

7 Jesus quotes Scripture against Scripture (his “also,” literally “again,” indicates a counter-text), not because he disputes the validity of God’s promise in Ps 91:11–12 but because he rejects the devil’s use of it to support his proposal of forcing God’s hand. Jesus selects his second Deuteronomy text (6:16, using LXX which straightforwardly translates the Hebrew) in order to draw out the implications of such an act. It would be an attempt to “put God to the test,”27 and as such would demonstrate a lack of filial trust and a doubt of his Father’s competence or dependability. It would be like the attitude of the Israelites “at Massah,” as Deut 6:16 goes on to specify, using a Hebrew word-play which the Greek cannot capture.28 The allusion is to Exod 17:1–7, where the Israelites’ thirst in the wilderness drove them to demand a miraculous provision of water, provoking Moses to respond, “Why do you test the Lord?”; and Moses “called the place Massah and Meribah, because the Israelites quarrelled and tested the Lord, saying ‘Is the Lord among us or not?’ ” It would be that same cynical challenge which would be implied if Jesus were to force God into a physical rescue which he ought to be able to trust in without testing it.

Again, as in vv. 3–4, it is Jesus’ relationship with God which is under scrutiny, and there is no suggestion that any one else would observe the proposed “leap of faith” to use it as a proof of Jesus’ messianic credentials.29 If, as we have discussed at v. 5, the whole experience was in any case a vision rather than an actual event in Jerusalem, that suggestion becomes even more inappropriate.

8–9 The devil’s third attempt involves another “transportation,” this time to an unspecified mountain,30 which could be in the wilderness area (though in that case a vision of “all the kingdoms of the world” would be a wild exaggeration), but need not be since Jerusalem, the location of the last visit, was not. The mountain need be no more literal, and the traditional identification of the “Mount of the Temptation” above Jericho has no historical basis. For mountains commanding a view of promised territory cf. Gen 13:14–17; Deut 34:1–4,31 but now much more than Canaan is in view.32 “All the kingdoms of the world” form a telling contrast with the single “kingdom of heaven” which Jesus will soon proclaim (v. 17). The mention of the “glory” of the kingdoms of the world33 confirms that what the devil is offering is not just a sphere for service, but paramount status, as “king of kings.”34 A universal dominion over all peoples is a theme of some OT hopes for the people of God or their royal Messiah (Pss 2:8;35 72:8–11; Dan 7:13–14; Zech 9:10), but the proposed route to this goal by prostration before God’s enemy strikes a new and obviously unacceptable note. The change of tone is signaled also by the omission this time of “If you are the Son of God,” which would have been blatantly at odds with this proposal to abandon Jesus’ allegiance to God. When eventually Jesus is able to claim on another mountain (but see n. 30) that “all authority has been given to me,” it will be as a result not of kowtowing to Satan but of suffering in obedience to God’s purpose, and then it will be all authority not only on earth but also in heaven, an authority which the devil was not able to offer (28:18).

There is not much subtlety in this temptation: it is a simple choice of allegiance. It is an offer of the right end by the wrong means—if indeed even the end is right, when it is expressed in terms of paramount glory in contrast with the obedient and self-sacrificing role which Jesus will be called to fulfill as God’s chosen servant. We shall meet a similar contrast in 10:35–45, between the human ambition of James and John and the paradoxical role of Jesus the servant who gives his life as a ransom for many.

Should the devil’s offer be read as sheer bluff, or was he understood to have some real authority over “the kingdoms of the world”? Several times in the NT he will be described in such language as “the ruler of this world” (John 12:31; 14:30; 16:11; 2 Cor 4:4; Eph 6:11–12; 1 John 5:19; Rev 12:9–17); in 12:26 he has his own “kingship.” As such he is understood to have real power in the present age,36 though always under the perspective of the ultimate victory of God. And as such he can offer power and glory, but not ultimate fulfillment, still less an authority in accordance with the will of God.

10 There can only be one answer, and again it is drawn from Deuteronomy. The wording of the quotation from Deut 6:13 differs from the LXX in substituting “worship” for “fear” in the first line and in drawing out the point more clearly by the addition of “only” in the second; the first change makes the intention of the OT text clear in the light of the devil’s demand for “worship,” and the second brings into the quotation what immediately follows in Deut 6:14, the prohibition of following any other gods. But this time the quotation is not left to speak for itself, but is prefaced by a curt dismissal of the tempter, showing clearly who is in control. “Away with you” (hypage) is an imperative occurring many times in Matthew, usually in the quite positive sense of sending someone to undertake a task or sending them away with their request granted. In 20:14 it is a brusque dismissal, but here and in 16:23 it carries an even sharper tone with in each case the vocative “Satan” (“Enemy”) added, here literally appropriate but in 16:23 as a remarkably wounding epithet for Peter (see on 16:23 for the similarity between Peter’s comment and the third temptation). Jesus is not just terminating the interview: he is sending his adversary packing.

11 The devil has been defeated and leaves the field. Matthew does not say, as does Luke, that his withdrawal was temporary, but the narrative that follows will contain many further encounters with the demonic, even though not again in a narrative confrontation with the chief demon himself (see however 12:28–29 for the implication of Jesus’ continuing struggle with the “strong man”). Meanwhile Jesus, though victorious, is weak and hungry, and angels provide him with the sustenance he refused in v. 4 to commandeer for himself; compare the experience of Elijah in the wilderness (1 Kgs 19:4–8), though in that case the food was provided at the beginning of the forty days, not at the end. The angels thus fulfill their protective role as it was promised in the devil’s quotation from Ps 91:11. Jesus will later claim to have legions of angels at his call in case of need (26:53), though again he will decline to call on them. For the “caring” role of angels cf. Heb 1:14: they are “ministering spirits sent to care for (diakonia, the same term as here) those who are to inherit salvation,” though it is unlikely that Hebrews was thinking there of the provision of literal food.37

II. Galilee: The Messiah Revealed in Word and Deed (4:12–16:20)

In 1:1–4:11 we have been introduced to Jesus of Nazareth, Israel’s Messiah and the Son of God. A rich profusion of scriptural quotation and allusion has traced a variety of prophetic themes and typological connections which together point to the coming of Jesus as the time of fulfillment of God’s age-old purpose for his people. Jesus himself has come on the scene in the context of the exciting revival movement of John the Baptist and has been marked out as the one who will carry John’s work forward into the era of effective judgment and salvation which God has promised. A period of personal preparation in the wilderness has proved his fidelity as the Son of God. We are now ready for the messianic mission to be launched.

As in chapter 2, Matthew first explains from Scripture what is to be the geographical setting of the mission: in conformity with Isaiah’s prophecy it must be in Galilee (4:12–16)—despite the standard view expressed by the priests and scribes in 2:5–6 and endorsed by the Jewish opinion cited in John 7:41–42, 52. Galilee and surrounding areas accordingly are the setting for the presentation of the Messiah’s mission which will take up nearly half the gospel until it reaches its climax near Caesarea Philippi (probably the most northerly point of Jesus’ recorded travels) in 16:13–20. From time to time Jesus will move outside Galilee proper (8:28–34; perhaps 14:13–21; 15:21–39; 16:13–20), but all the time he remains in the north. It will be only from 16:21 that he sets off for Judea, where the climactic scenes of the gospel will be set, until the final triumphant return to Galilee in 28:16–20. The narrative from 16:21 to 28:15 will be cast in the form of a single journey from north to south culminating in a single week in Jerusalem. In contrast the Galilean section of the gospel has no clearly defined framework of time and movement (though in some sections a coherent itinerary can be discerned) but is rather an anthology of events and teaching designed to convey an overall impression of an undefined period of largely public activity in the north. In this section we are given a broad impression of Jesus’ ministry in and around his home province; after 16:21 he will go south into Judean territory for the confrontation with the Jerusalem authorities which will bring his ministry to its paradoxical climax.

It is therefore within this northern section of the gospel that the majority of the words and deeds of Jesus recorded by Matthew, especially those which envisage a public setting, must find their place. Matthew has his own distinctive way of arranging this collection of disparate material. Three of his five discourse collections (see pp. 8–10) occur in this section (chs 5–7, 10, 13). Between the first two of these is found an equally carefully constructed anthology of the authoritative deeds of Jesus (chs 8–9; see introduction to that section). There is thus a clear plan to the first part of the Galilean section of the gospel:

4:18–22	The call of the first disciples, to form the essential audience for
5:1–7:29	Teaching on discipleship, revealing the Messiah’s authority
8:1–9:34	Anthology of actions revealing the Messiah’s authority
9:35–10:42	The Messiah’s authority shared with his disciples.

Thereafter, while some deliberate patterns and development can be discerned (see my section headings for 11:2–16:20), there is less sign of an overarching design, and at times one feels that the material is there simply because Matthew had to find somewhere to put it within the northern period of public ministry.

This whole section of the gospel corresponds broadly to the first main section of Mark’s account (Mark 1:14–8:30), though considerably expanded with non-Marcan material at several points. In Mark’s Galilean section there is only one main block of teaching, the parable discourse of ch. 4, which falls roughly half-way through the section and thus provides an opportunity for reflection on the implications of Jesus’ announcement of the kingdom of God and the responses which it has met. Matthew’s chapter 13 is a considerable expansion from Mark 4, but serves a similar purpose following the varied responses to Jesus recorded in chs. 11–12. But by his careful construction of the opening part of the section (chs. 5–10) Matthew has considerably enhanced the impression of Jesus’ authority, thus providing fuller food for thought when the parable discourse is reached. In order to achieve this effect Matthew has not only constructed a substantial discourse out of almost entirely non-Marcan material (chs. 5–7) but also extensively reordered the narrative pericopes which he has in common with Mark, with chs. 8–9 mainly made up of a careful interweaving of two Marcan sections, Mark 1:29–2:22 and 4:35–5:43.

A. The Light Dawns in Galilee (4:12–17)

12When Jesus heard that John had been arrested,1 he withdrew2 to Galilee. 13He left Nazareth and went and settled in Capernaum beside the lake3 in the territory of Zebulun and Naphthali. 14This was to fulfill what had been declared through Isaiah the prophet, who said,

15“Land of Zebulun and land of Naphthali,

the way of the sea,4 beyond the Jordan,

Galilee of the nations:

16the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light,

and on those who sat in the land of the shadow of death5 light has risen.”6

17From that time Jesus began to proclaim this message, “Repent,7 for the kingdom of heaven has arrived.”8

Matthew sets the geographical scene more carefully than Mark, both by noting Jesus’ removal from Nazareth to Capernaum9 and by giving it theological significance by means of another formula-quotation. The effect of his reference to Isa 9:1–2 is to designate Galilee as the place of light, as opposed to the darkness which we shall eventually find to be settled over Judea. The dawning light is heralded in Jesus’ proclamation, and the succeeding section of the gospel set in and around Galilee will be essentially one of light and hope, as light shines on the people at large and they respond gladly to it, despite the hostility of some whose special interest keeps them from welcoming it. Galilee is the place where the mission will be enthusiastically launched and developed (and from which eventually, after the conflict and rejection in Judea, the mission will be relaunched to reach all nations, 28:16–20). Even as early as this there is a further hint (cf 1:3–6; 2:1–12, and the Abrahamic theme of 1:1; 3:9) that Jesus’ messianic mission extends beyond Israel alone, in Isaiah’s loaded phrase “Galilee of the nations.”

See on v. 17 for the view that a new section begins with that verse. As a transitional passage it relates both to what precedes, the dawning of the light in Galilee (4:13–16), and to what follows, the whole Galilean proclamation as set out in 4:18–16:20. There is an obvious new narrative beginning in v. 18, so one must either let v. 17 stand as a paragraph on its own or else recognize its link with the Galilean agenda of vv. 12–16 and its function as an overall summary by including it within the same introductory paragraph. In my view more is gained by the latter approach.

12 Again (cf. 3:1) Matthew gives no indication of the time which has elapsed between the events of 3:1–4:11 and Jesus’ return to Galilee, nor is the arrest of John which triggers that return narrated at this point (see 14:3–4); neither the gospels nor Josephus tell us how long John’s public activity was allowed to continue. That Jesus stayed in the south for some time is indicated by John 3:22; 4:1–3.

The continuity between John and Jesus is recognized by the link made here, and yet there is a clear sense of discontinuity, of a new and different ministry beginning in a new location. This “withdrawal” (see above n. 2) was in part a matter of political wisdom: in view of John’s conflict with Antipas (see on 3:1 for his probable location in Antipas’ Perean territory) his “successor” could not expect to be safe in the same area, especially if, as Josephus tells us (Ant. 18:118), Antipas saw the baptizing movement as a potential source of sedition. Galilee was, of course, also under Antipas, but an itinerant preacher touring the Galilean villages was a less obvious target for political concern than John’s centripetal campaign by the Jordan. News of John’s fate will again cause Jesus to “withdraw” in 14:13.

13 Jesus’ relocation (the combination of kataleipō and katoikeō indicates a decisive move away to a new home) took him from the rather remote hill-village in which he had been brought up (see on 2:23 for Nazareth)10 to a busy lake-side town set among other thriving villages which depended largely on the productive fishing industry of the Lake of Galilee. He thus gained a more public platform for his proclamation, as well as escaping the suspicion attaching to a local boy who becomes a celebrity (see on 13:54–58).11 Matthew records only one return to Nazareth, whereas Capernaum and the neighboring lakeshore communities will be the setting for most of the Galilean ministry. It is sobering to note, however, that even Capernaum, favored with so much of Jesus’ presence, will be denounced as unresponsive in 11:23–24.

Capernaum was an important settlement on the north-western shore of the lake, and the presence there of a centurion (8:5) and a customs post (9:9) indicates that it was a local administrative center. The population in the first century was perhaps as high as 10,000,12 substantially bigger than Nazareth. While Capernaum had its resident Roman officials, it was a traditionally Jewish town, very different from the newly-established Hellenistic city of Tiberias a little further down the Western shore. While Luke and Josephus more correctly speak of the “Lake” of Galilee, Matthew, Mark and John consistently refer to this inland fresh-water lake as a “sea” (reflecting the OT name yām-kinneret, Num 34:11 etc.), but in my translation (except in v. 15, see comments below) and in the commentary, I have thought it less misleading to modern readers to use “lake.”

In the traditional tribal allocation after the conquest the tribes of Zebulun and Naphthali shared the area between the Lake of Galilee and the territory of Asher along the Mediterranean coast. The lakeshore area originally belonged to Naphthali, while Nazareth was in Zebulun, but tribal areas had little actual relevance by NT times. Matthew combines the two tribes in order to echo Isaiah’s prophecy.

14–16 The central emphasis in this pericope again falls on the “fulfillment” of Scipture: Jesus’ move to Capernaum is the cue for one of Matthew’s longest formula-quotations. For the quotation formula see on 1:22, and for the attribution to a specific prophet see on 2:17. Matthew gives an abbreviated quotation of Isa 8:23–9:1 (EVV 9:1–2) in a form closer to the Hebrew than to the LXX, but not fully corresponding to the sense of either.13 By leaving out all verbs from the first part of the quotation he has, like LXX, produced a string of geographical terms which give the setting but do not relate grammatically to the statement that follows; they serve to fill out the identity of the “people who sat in darkness.” His abbreviation throws the focus on the geographical terms which are appropriate to Jesus’ new home in Capernaum (note “way of the sea”) rather than Nazareth. It also emphasizes the link between his Galilean location and the dawning of the light, which in the Isaiah context is the prelude to the great messianic prophecy of the child “born to us” who is called “wonderful counsellor, mighty God, everlasting father, prince of peace”—a prophecy which is remarkably never directly referred to in the NT.14

Isaiah’s geographical terms raise interesting questions. While Matthew apparently understood “way of the sea” as referring to the Lake of Galilee (hence his description of Capernaum as, literally, “beside the sea”), it is more likely that Isaiah was referring to the major route from Damascus to the Mediterranean which ran along the north-west shore of the Lake of Galilee, past Capernaum; if that road was known in Isaiah’s time as the “way of the sea” (the Romans later called it Via Maris) the “sea” was the Mediterranean. In Isaiah’s text the three terms “way of the sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations” stand in apposition to each other, but in contrast to “land of Zebulun and Naphthali;” Matthew’s abbreviation has put all four terms in apposition. “Beyond the Jordan” depends, of course, from which side of the river one is speaking. From a normal Palestinian view-point it would mean the east side as it does in v. 25, whereas Matthew here clearly understands the text to refer to the west (the territory of Zebulun and Naphthali)15 where Capernaum was located. Did he then understand Isaiah to be speaking not from his own Palestinian standpoint but from that of the Assyrian invader? A related problem arises at 19:1; see comments there. On this basis it has been argued that Matthew’s gospel originated in Trans-Jordan,16 but that is a lot to load onto a phrase included in a quotation from Isaiah whereas Matthew himself uses it in a different sense in 4:25 (and probably in 19:1).

“Galilee of the nations” reflects the region’s greater openness to surrounding Gentile populations, and perhaps especially Isaiah’s Judean awareness of the deportation of Israelites from Galilee by the Assyrians both before (2 Kgs 15:29) and after the Assyrian conquest (2 Kgs 17:24–34), to be replaced by foreign populations. By NT times southern Jews were suspicious of Galilee’s mixed population: indeed by the Maccabean period the region had become so paganized that its remaining Jewish population were evacuated to Judea (1 Macc. 5:14–23); the subsequent incorporation of Galilee into the Jewish Hasmonean kingdom resulted again in a substantial Jewish population particularly in Lower Galilee but the total population remained mixed and by the first century included the new Hellenistic cities of Sepphoris and Tiberias. By including “Galilee of the nations” in his quotation Matthew gives a further hint of the direction in which his story will develop until the mission which will be launched from Galilee in 28:16 is explicitly targeted at “all nations” (28:19), even though for the time being Jesus’ ministry will be largely (but not entirely: 8:5–13, 28–34; 15:21–39) focused on the Jewish population of Galilee—a principle which will be explicitly stated in 10:5–6; 15:24, but breached in practice in the latter pericope.

The imagery of darkness and light is clear and conventional (cf. 6:23). It speaks in Isaiah of the transformation from hopelessness to hope, in the immediate context of the devastation caused by the Assyrian invasion.17 Matthew (perhaps encouraged by the messianic prediction that follows in Isa 9:6–7) takes it in a more eschatological sense, and will immediately ground this new hope in the Messiah’s preaching of the kingdom of heaven.18 Matthew’s aorist tenses (LXX has an imperative and a future) make it clear that for him the prophecy has now found its fulfillment in Jesus. It is possible that Matthew uses “rise” (anatellō) rather than simply “shine” (so Hebrew and LXX) to recall the “rising” (anatolē) of the star in 2:2, 9, especially if the latter carried an echo of Balaam’s prophecy of the rising star (Num 24:17). But the imagery speaks for itself without that echo.

17 Hitherto Jesus has been a largely passive figure in Matthew’s story. “From that time,” however, the situation is changed, as Jesus takes the initiative. This simple broad summary of his public ministry in Galilee uses exactly the same words as the account of John in 3:2; see comments there for the meaning of the terms. Since this verse is an abbreviated version of the fuller summary with which Mark introduces Jesus’ Galilean ministry (Mark 1:14–15), whereas Mark has no comparable account of John’s proclamation, it seems more likely that Matthew has taken the traditional account of Jesus’ preaching and extended it back to John than that he began with John and then chose to introduce Jesus in the same terms. He will soon add a rich variety of additional themes to Jesus’ message for which John had no equivalent, but it remains a remarkable testimony to Matthew’s positive estimate of John that he is willing to allow him to share Jesus’ core message verbatim.

In recent years there has been a good deal of support for the proposal of N. B. Stonehouse, developed by E. Krentz and adopted by J. D. Kingsbury,19 that the opening five words of this verse, “From that time Jesus began,” constitute an introductory formula to a new main section of the gospel; the repetition of the same “formula” in 16:21 then provides the marker for Kingsbury’s third (and last) main section. There is no doubt that the two phrases do serve to introduce a fundamental change in the pattern of Jesus’ activity at these two points, and their placing corresponds quite closely with what I have designated on grounds of content as the beginning and end of the longest main section of the work (see above pp. 2–5). But a five-word phrase repeated once at a distance of 12 chapters is not an impressive basis for claiming a structurally significant “formula” indicating a deliberate three-part presentation of the story by Matthew. The five words are an effective transitional idiom, but they do not compare with Matthew’s frequently repeated formulae of quotation (1:22 etc.) and of discourse-ending (7:28 etc.) as markers of literary design.

B. The Founding of the Messianic Community (4:18–22)

18As Jesus was walking beside the Lake1 of Galilee he saw two brothers, Simon (also called Peter) and his brother Andrew, throwing their casting-net into the lake; for they were fishermen. 19He said to them, “Come and follow me,2 and I will send you out to fish for people.”3 20Immediately they left their nets, and followed him. 21He went on from there, and saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in the boat with their father Zebedee preparing4 their nets. He called them, 22and they too immediately left the boat and their father, and followed him.

Hitherto Jesus, while briefly involved with John and others by the Jordan, has been presented as operating alone. But it is significant that his first recorded action is to gather a group of followers, who will commit themselves to a total change of lifestyle which involves them in joining Jesus as his essential support group for the whole period of his public ministry. From this point on we shall not read stories about Jesus alone, but stories about Jesus and his disciples. Wherever he goes they will go; their presence with Jesus, even if not explicitly mentioned, is assumed. While the Twelve will not be formally listed until 10:1–4, the stories from here on will assume a wider group of disciples than just these first four. They will be the primary audience for his teaching (5:1–2) and witnesses of his works of power, but they are also called to be his active helpers in the task of “fishing for people,” as we shall discover in ch. 10. The first time Jesus will be left alone after this point will be when eventually the disciples desert him in the garden of Gethsemane (26:56). Until then, Matthew’s story is not only that of the Messiah, but also of the messianic community which is being formed around him. The placing of this incident right at the beginning makes it clear that that was Jesus’ intention.

Within that close-knit group of disciples it will become clear that three of the four whose call is recorded first will form an “inner circle,” chosen to be with Jesus in moments of special significance (17:1; 26:37), and mentioned by name from time to time whereas the rest of the Twelve receive little or no individual mention beyond the listing of their names in 10:2–4. The proximity here of the two pairs of brothers suggests (as Luke 5:7, 10 states explicitly) that the four were already colleagues in the fishing business. The association of the mother of James and John with the other women at the cross according to 27:56 (see comments there), as well as her intervention on their behalf in 20:20, has led some to suppose that the family of Zebedee was in some way related to Jesus’ own family,5 so that this sudden summons may not have come quite so much out of the blue as it appears, but the inference of kinship is very uncertain, and Matthew does not indicate it. Rather, the suddenness with which Zebedee is left behind in the boat suggests an unpremeditated action. Matthew betrays no awareness of the previous meeting of some of this group with Jesus by the Jordan which is mentioned in John 1:35–42.

This call-story portrays a sudden and complete change of lifestyle, involving “leaving” both work and family.6 Details later in the story suggest a modification of this impression of total renunciation,7 but in 19:27–29 we shall be reminded of the radical dissociation which their discipleship entailed. The repetition of similar language with regard both to the call of Matthew in 9:9 and to the abortive call to the rich man in 19:21–22 shows that Matthew’s understanding of discipleship was ideally of “giving up everything” to follow Jesus. Cf. 8:19–22 for Jesus’ uncompromising demands on would-be followers. While Matthew does not record the call of any others of the Twelve except Matthew, we are left to assume that all of them were similarly expected to give up everything to follow Jesus (as indeed Peter will assert in 19:27).

If the announcement of “God’s kingship” in v. 17 might lead the reader to expect some dramatic development in world history, the character of these first recruits offers a different perspective: four local fishermen do not sound like a world-changing task-force. The parable of the mustard seed (13:31–32) will spell out the paradoxical character and insignificant beginnings of the kingdom of God.

18 As Simon was one of the commonest names in first-century Palestine8 (we shall meet four other Simons in 10:4; 13:55; 26:6; 27:32), the nickname by which Jesus later distinguished this Simon (10:2; 16:18) is used here to identify him (and especially to distinguish him from the other Simon among the Twelve, 10:4). Simon is a Semitic name, but Andrew is Greek; the family, though now settled in Capernaum (8:14), originated from Bethsaida according to John 1:44, and their names reflect the mixed culture of that Hellenistic settlement just across the river from Jewish Capernaum. The “casting-net”9 could be thrown by a man wading from the shore or, more effectively, from a boat. Matthew mentions that the sons of Zebedee were in a boat but no boat is mentioned in connection with Simon and Andrew, and the different term for the “nets” of the sons of Zebedee has been taken to suggest a different type of fishing. But diktyon in v. 21 is not a very specific term (unlike sagēnē, the large “drag-net” of 13:47 which required one or more boats), and in any case the same term diktya is also used in v. 20 for the nets which Simon and Andrew leave. So to use this difference of terminology to propose a social stratification, with Simon and Andrew belonging to the poorer shore-fishermen while the Zebedee family were more affluent and owned a boat,10 goes well beyond any clear hint in Matthew’s wording (and is of course incompatible with Luke 5:1–11).

19–20 Etiquette required a rabbi’s disciple to walk literally “behind” his teacher.11 But when Jesus calls Simon and Andrew to “come behind him,” they will soon find that he is far from a conventional rabbi,12 especially in that those who wished to follow a rabbi generally took the initiative themselves, rather than being summoned in this way. What Jesus issues here is not even an invitation, but rather a demand. Such a summons is more typical of a prophet than of a rabbi (cf Elijah’s call of Elisha, 1 Kgs 19:19–21, a passage which bears fruitful comparison with this incident). Moreover, the task to which he is calling them is described not primarily as one of learning from a teacher, but of active “fishing.” The metaphor follows naturally from the description of their previous occupation, but leaves open the nature of the “catching:” from what and into what are people to be “fished”? Jer 16:16 uses the same metaphor of “catching” sinful people for judgment13 (cf. also Amos 4:2; Hab 1:14–17), and indeed from the fish’s point of view that is a more natural sense: it is no blessing for a fish to be caught! But following Jesus’ proclamation of repentance in view of the coming of God’s kingship it seems more appropriate in this context to take the “catching” in a positive sense, of recruiting new subjects to God’s kingship (cf. the parallel metaphor of seeking out the “lost sheep of Israel,” 10:6). When the metaphor of fishing is used again in 13:47–50 the same “catching” will lead for some to judgment and for others to salvation. It is a metaphor for the time of decision, and Simon and Andrew will have a role in bringing people to that decision (10:5–15; 28:19–20).14

Matthew is less prolific than Mark in his use of “immediately;” its use here and in v. 22 emphasizes the extraordinary readiness of these working men to abandon all that was familiar and secure for the sake of a charismatic stranger. The unique authority inherent in Jesus’ teaching and actions which will be emphasized repeatedly in chs. 5–9 is already displayed both in the radical boldness of his demand and in the instinctive and uncharacteristic response of four ordinary men.

21–22 The call of the second pair of brothers closely echoes the first, and there is no need for the specific task of “fishing for people” to be repeated. But the inclusion of the boat and the men’s father makes the radical nature of their renunciation even more graphic. For the priority of discipleship even over family ties cf. 8:18–22; 10:21–22, 34–37; 12:46–50; the tension between such demands and the proper concern for parents which Jesus will defend in 15:3–6 underlines the radical urgency of his call.15 The frequent mention of Zebedee in the gospels (whereas Simon and Andrew are never referred to jointly as the “sons of John,” John 1:42), may be because he (and his wife, 20:20; 27:56) became a familiar figure in the first-century church, though since James and John frequently feature together (usually along with Simon but not Andrew) it may rather reflect the need for a convenient joint title to denote them.

C. An Overview of the Messiah’s Revelation in Galilee (4:23–25)

23And he began1 travelling around throughout the whole of Galilee, teaching in their synagogues2 and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and healing all sorts of illnesses and disabilities3 among the people. 24Reports about him spread out into the whole of Syria, and people brought to him all who were suffering from all kinds of illnesses and afflicted by pain, and4 those possessed by demons, and those subject to fits,5 and those who were paralyzed; and he healed them. 25And great crowds followed him, from Galilee and the Decapolis, from Jerusalem and Judea, and from across the Jordan.

Now that Jesus’ entourage has been established, Matthew expands on the brief introduction to the Galilean ministry which he has given in 4:17, and fills in both the nature of Jesus’ peripatetic activity and also the phenomenal response with which it was met, even beyond the bounds of Palestinian Judaism. This general account of Jesus’ immense popularity and “success,” which will be repeated in an abbreviated form in 9:35, provides the essential background to the chapters that follow. While Jesus will be most immediately associated with his close circle of disciples, we shall be reminded constantly of a wider “crowd” who surround him, eager to witness and benefit from his power as well as to hear his teaching. Verses 18–22 have introduced the inner circle; these verses now add the outer periphery. Both groups will be important as the setting for the teaching which will immediately follow (see comments on 5:1–2; 7:28–29). In view of the various sources of opposition to Jesus which we shall encounter in chs. 11–16 (even including the Galilean communities of Nazareth, 13:53–58, and of Chorazin, Bethsaida and Capernaum, 11:20–24), it is important for Matthew’s readers to keep in mind this overall impression of general enthusiasm for Jesus’ Galilean ministry which he has provided at the outset.

23 While Matthew will record several specific locations in Galilee, and many further Galilean incidents without a defined place, “the whole of Galilee” should be understood as describing a wide-spread ministry rather than quite literally. For instance, we have no record of Jesus ever visiting the two Hellenistic cities of Sepphoris and Tiberias which both served as capitals for Antipas’ Galilee. Jesus’ visits seem to have been primarily to the more traditionally Jewish parts of the province. The mention of “synagogues” reinforces this focus; in first-century Galilee the term may denote village assemblies rather than buildings erected for worship as such,6 but its usage focuses on Jewish communities.7 “The people” (laos; see p. 53, n. 47 and p. 70, n. 46) in Matthew also normally denotes especially the people of Israel. Jesus will himself describe his mission as “only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” (15:24) and when he is recorded as being involved with Gentiles the narrative makes clear that this is exceptional (8:5–13; 15:21–28).

The mention of “proclaiming the good news” alongside “teaching” in the synagogues is perhaps not simply repetition but rather distinguishes informal preaching to gathered crowds from the more formal opportunity to speak by invitation in a regular weekly assembly; the content is however unlikely to have differed significantly.8 Teaching, proclamation and healing (with exorcism, mentioned in the next verse) constitute the bulk of Jesus’ recorded activity in Galilee, and will be comprehensively illustrated in the anthologies of teaching and healing in chs. 5–7 and 8–9 respectively. Similar terms will be used for the disciples’ derivative ministry in 10:7–8, though it may be significant that whereas they too are to “proclaim,” Matthew never uses the verb “teach” of the disciples until after Jesus (the “one teacher,” 23:8, 10) is no longer present (28:20).

This is Matthew’s first use of euangelion, “good news.” Unlike Mark (and Luke, who prefers the verb, euangelizomai) he uses the term only four times, here and in the parallel passage 9:35 to summarize Jesus’ message, and in 24:14; 26:13 to denote the church’s proclamation about Jesus after his death; Matthew apparently intends his readers to perceive a simple continuity between the message of Jesus and that of his followers. In three of these four cases the word occurs in the apparently stereotyped phrase “the gospel of the kingdom.” Matthew is the only one of the three synoptic evangelists to abbreviate “the kingdom of God/heaven” (see on 3:2) to simply “the kingdom” in this way. Modern usage has unfortunately adopted this abbreviation to the extent that “the kingdom” tout court is now commonly used to summarize the Christian message (a usage supported in the NT only by Acts 20:25); the word “kingdom” is sometimes used these days even as an adjective (e.g. Keener, 155: “kingdom works”)! The effect of this abbreviation is to reinforce the common misunderstanding, already fostered by the unfortunate English translation “kingdom” instead of e.g. “reign,” that basileia means a “thing” called a “kingdom” rather than being a verbal noun to describe God ruling.9 Matthew does not use the phrase in that absolute way. He omits “of heaven/God” six times, but only where basileia already depends on another noun: “the gospel of the basileia,” (4:23; 9:35; 24:14) “the sons of the basileia”, (8:12; 13:38) “the word of the basileia,” (13:19) where the gospel context makes it clear that it is God’s rule that is in view; he never uses hē basileia alone in the manner of Acts 20:25 and modern usage.

The mention that Jesus healed (literally) “every disease and every weakness,” following the mention of “the whole of Galilee,” suggests that Matthew is generalizing rather than asserting that no single case of illness was left untreated; cf. v. 24, the bringing of “all” the afflicted, apparently from the whole Roman province of Syria. He is describing a phenomenally successful and popular program of healing, not counting cases.

24 The Roman imperial province of Syria included not only the Syria (Aram) of the OT but also Palestine (Syria Palestina); the Herodian rulers and the prefect of Judea, as well as the cities of the Decapolis, were subject to the overall authority of the legate of Syria. Matthew’s “all Syria” here, while even less likely to be meant literally than “all Galilee” in v. 23, serves to indicate that Jesus’ reputation spread far beyond the area of his actual travels. For his reputation in Syria cf. 15:21–22. For the list of complaints cf. p. 148–49, notes 3, 4, and 5. The three terms which conclude the list will all be illustrated by specific cases in 8:28–34; 17:14–21 and 9:1–8 respectively. Exact medical diagnosis is not to be expected or attempted on the basis of such a general summary, but we should note that demon-possession, often regarded by modern interpreters as a pre-scientific explanation for what we would describe as physical or mental disorder, is in fact listed as a separate category. In using the verb “heal” to cover all the complaints listed Matthew is not as careful as Mark in 1:32–34 (cf. 3:10–12) to differentiate possession, with “expulsion” as its cure, from physical illnesses which are “healed,” but in his other general summaries he maintains the distinction clearly (8:16; 10:1, 8); where he mentions physical symptoms in a case of demon-possession in 9:32–34 the language remains clearly that of exorcism, though in 12:22 a more abbreviated account speaks simply of “healing.”10 see on 17:14–20 for the suggestion that one case of demon-possession was linked with what we call epilepsy.

25 While Matthew specifies Galilee as the area of Jesus’ own travels (v. 23), the wider currency of his reputation (v. 24) results in people coming to him from the whole of Palestine and the immediately surrounding area. Cf. the similar but more limited statement of the extent of John the Baptist’s following in 3:5. Galilee and the Decapolis cover the northern area, on both sides of the Jordan valley, while the south is represented by Judea on the west bank of the Jordan and Perea on the east bank. Jerusalem is included because of its importance as the main center of population, though it does not extend the geographical area. The striking omission geographically is Samaria: while Luke and John describe Jesus’ activities in Samaria and the response of Samaritans (Luke 9:51–56; 17:11–19; John 4:4–42), Matthew not only omits any such record but also specifically excludes Samaria from the area of the disciples’ mission (10:5–6); even though Jesus himself will from time to time move outside Jewish circles, his openness appears not to extend to Samaritans in Matthew’s understanding.

These large “crowds” are said to “follow” Jesus, the same term which in vv. 20 and 22 denoted the first disciples’ total change of life-style and will in 8:19–22 similarly indicate a radical commitment to accompany Jesus. Yet as the narrative progresses we shall find only a few who are Jesus’ constant and committed companions, while a less easily defined “crowd” comes and goes. This wider group represents a pool of possible “full-time” recruits, but generally their “following” seems to be more sporadic and temporary, and when Jesus sets off for Jerusalem in 16:21 it is apparently only the Twelve (and the women mentioned in 27:55–56) who are prepared to leave Galilee to accompany him. The distinction between “disciples” and “crowd” will be clearly maintained in 5:1–2; 7:28–29 etc. The verb “follow” alone is not therefore a sufficient indication of full-scale discipleship.11 Mark 3:7–8 is perhaps more exact in describing this inter-provincial crowd as simply “coming to” Jesus.

D. The Messiah’s Authority Revealed In His Teaching: the Discourse On Discipleship (5:1–7:29)

As I have already published an overview of some of the issues raised by this memorable discourse,1 I trust that I may be allowed here to introduce it quite briefly.

The scene has been well set: Jesus the Messiah has begun to preach in Galilee, as Scripture foretold (4:12–17), and large crowds are being attracted to his teaching (4:23–25). Matthew therefore now presents a lengthy collection of that authoritative teaching. A parallel collection of his authoritative deeds will follow in chapters 8–9. But the teaching is addressed, initially at least, not to the crowds, but rather to the narrower circle of his committed disciples, to whom we have been introduced in 4:18–22, and who are now taken apart from the crowds to be instructed on what their new commitment involves. The focus of these chapters is not then the wider proclamation of the “good news of the kingdom,” (4:23) but the instruction of those who have already responded to that proclamation, and now need to learn what life in the “kingdom of heaven” is really about. The teaching will frequently describe them as a special group who stand over against, and indeed are persecuted by, people in general. They are those who have entered into a new relationship with “your Father in heaven,” and who in consequence are called to a radically new life-style, in conscious distinction from the norms of the rest of society.2 They are to be an alternative society, a “Christian counter-culture.”3

It is because of this distinctive focus of chs. 5–7 that I have preferred to call this the “Discourse on Discipleship” rather than use the familiar but non-descriptive title “Sermon on the Mount,” a term which too often conveys to modern hearers the concept of a general code of ethics rather than the specific demands of the kingdom of heaven.4 As has often been pointed out (and sometimes discovered in experience, notably by Tolstoy) the demands of this discourse do not easily translate into a practical day-to-day morality; see especially comments below on 5:39–42. The standard set is nothing less than perfection, being like God (5:48). Jesus’ typical use of extreme, black-and-white categories lays down a challenge which cannot be simply converted into a set of rules and regulations for life in the real world. The essence of life in the kingdom of heaven is in fact the antithesis of a legalistic code, as 5:20 will state and 5:21–48 will repeatedly illustrate. The discourse is indeed intended as a guide to life, but only for those who are committed to the kingdom of heaven, and even they will always find that its reach exceeds their grasp.5

In the Introduction (pp. 8–10) I have outlined the nature of Matthew’s five major discourses, with their distinctive concluding formula, of which this is the longest.6 While the synoptic substructure on which each of the others is based is found in Mark, in this case there is very little material in common with Mark and the basic synoptic parallel is Luke 6:20–49.7 The two “sermons” share a great deal of common material (all but eight verses of Luke 6:20–49 are parallelled, though not always closely, in Matthew 5–7) in roughly the same order (the only exceptions are the placing of Luke 6:27–28, 31) and each begins with beatitudes and ends with the parable of the two houses. The opening and closing pericopes are, however, instructive, in that while the subject-matter is similar, in each case the wording is conspicuously different, to such an extent that at least in the case of the beatitudes it is easier to explain the Matthean and Lucan sets as deriving from two separate traditions (see comments on 5:3–10). So while some of the common material is verbally very similar, at other times Matthew’s “parallel” material appears to derive from a separate tradition, and it is the overall structure of the “sermon” rather than its specific content that links Matthew with Luke.

Roughly 27% of Matthew’s discourse is shared with Luke 6:20–49, and a further 33% has parallels elsewhere in Luke and 5% in Mark, while the remaining 35% has no parallel in either Mark or Luke. These data together with the preceding observations are consistent with, and indeed provide the clearest illustration of, Matthew’s method in compiling his five major discourses. A traditional unit of Jesus’ teaching is adapted and massively expanded by the inclusion of other traditional sayings on related themes, some of which Matthew shares with Luke, but many of which he has derived from sources otherwise unknown to us. This discourse is thus properly described as an anthology of the teaching of Jesus relating to discipleship, compiled by Matthew into his own distinctive structure (though using as a basis the sermon outline of Luke 6:20–49), but aiming to provide an overview of the authoritative teaching of the Messiah himself. We shall see in chapters 10, 13, 18 and 24–25 similar anthologies based on traditional units found also in Mark, each of which, like this one, will conclude with the formula “And it happened, when Jesus had finished these [words] …”

The subject-matter of chapters 5–6 covers four main themes:

5:3–16	The distinctiveness of disciples
5:17–48	Fulfilling the law
6:1–18	Piety, true and false
6:19–34	The priority of trust in God over material security.

In 7:1–12 the structure of the discourse is less clearly coherent, with a collection of sayings on a number of loosely related themes, though reaching in 7:12 a summary which brings to a head much of the content of the discourse so far. Then a series of four challenging contrasts (7:13–27) brings the whole to a rhetorically powerful conclusion.8

The concluding verses (7:28–29) not only reintroduce the crowd as a secondary audience but also sum up the overall impact which Matthew intends this discourse to produce, that of the unparalleled authority of the teacher. From time to time throughout the discourse Jesus has spoken in the first person, indicating that he himself is to be the focus of the disciples’ allegiance (5:11) and the one who determines their lifestyle (5:17–18, 20, and the “I say to you” formula of 5:22, 28, 32, 34, 39, 44; cf. 6:25, 29) and their destiny (7:21–23, 24, 26). Thus, far from being a philosophical discourse on ethics, this is a messianic manifesto, setting out the unique demands and revolutionary insights of one who claims an absolute authority over other people and whose word, like the word of God, will determine their destiny. No wonder the crowds were astonished, not only by the teaching but even more by the teacher.9

1. Teaching in the Hills (5:1–2)

1Seeing the crowds Jesus went up into the hills, and when he had sat down his disciples came to him. 2He opened his mouth and taught them as follows:

The introduction to this discourse has in one sense already begun in 4:23–25,10 since the crowds, introduced in 4:25, are cited as the reason for Jesus’ move up into the hills. But the audience of the discourse is specified not as the crowds but as “his disciples,” a term used here for the first time in Matthew, but presumably intended in context to denote those who have been called to follow him in 4:18–22, together with others who share the same calling and commitment.11 The crowds are thus deliberately distinguished from the audience of the discourse, even though in 7:28–29 we shall find that they have been listening to it, perhaps as an outer circle “eaves-dropping” on what he has to say to his disciples. It is explicitly to the disciples (“them,” v. 2) that the discourse is addressed. While the crowds are themselves often the object of Jesus’ concern both as teacher and healer (9:36; 13:2; 15:30; 19:2), there are also times in Matthew when he deliberate moves away from the crowds in order to be with his disciples (8:18; 13:36; 14:22). Sometimes he “withdraws” (4:12; 12:15; 14:13; 15:21) in contexts of hostility or danger; but this is simply the search for a quieter environment for teaching.

I have translated eis to oros as “into the hills” because here and in 14:23; 15:29 (and, I shall argue, also in 28:16) I take to oros to be a general term for the hill-country to the west and north of the Lake of Galilee, where the hills rise steeply from the lake. So the phrase need not denote a specific mountain; contrast the specific mention of “a (very) high mountain” in 4:8; 17:1 and the named mountain of 24:3.12 To that extent “Sermon on the Mount” is a misleading description, and no specific “mountain” can be safely identified as the site of this teaching. The setting of the sermon of Luke 6:20–49 apparently on a “level place” to which Jesus descends (Luke 6:17) supports a reference to a setting generally in the hill-country rather than on a mountain-top. But despite this geographical sense of eis to oros Matthew may well intended to oros also to suggest a typological parallel with Moses13 who went up on “the mountain” (Sinai) to receive and then deliver God’s law.14 For a New Moses typology already in the prologue to the gospel see above pp. 63–64, 79, 81–83, 89. For the possibility of a similar typology underlying the “very high mountain” of 4:8 see comments there and see also below on 17:1–8. We have also noticed other exodus motifs in 2:15 and 4:1–11. In the light of this repeated theme Davies & Allison, 1.427, make the rather exaggerated comment that “Mt 1–5 in all its parts reflects a developed exodus typology … every major event in Mt 1–5 apparently has its counterpart in the events surrounding Israel’s exodus from Egypt.” If such a typlology was in Matthew’s mind here, however, he must have intended his readers to reflect not only on the similarity but also on the contrast between Moses who spoke only the words he was given, and Jesus who, in explicit contrast to what was said “to the people of old” (through Moses), simply declares “I say to you” (5:21–22 etc.). Moses gave them the law; Jesus “fulfills” it (5:17).15

The portrayal of Jesus as seated with “disciples” gathered around him casts him in the role of a rabbinic teacher; sitting was the posture for authoritative teaching (cf. 13:2; 24:3; 26:55), as also in the synagogue (23:2; Luke 4:20).16 The verb didaskō, “teach” reinforces that impression, while “opened his mouth” is a familiar OT idiom to introduce a significant pronouncement (Job 3:1; 33:2; Ps 78:2; Dan 10:16; cf. Matt 13:35; Acts 8:35; 10:34). Matthew thus sets up the model of the authoritative teacher with which the discourse will also conclude (7:28–29).

2. The Good Life: the Paradoxical Values of the Kingdom of Heaven (5:3–10)

3Happy1 are those who are poor in spirit, for it is to them2 that the kingdom of heaven belongs.3

4Happy are those who mourn, for it is they who will be comforted.4

5Happy are the meek, for it is they who will inherit the earth.5

6Happy are those who are hungry and thirsty for righteousness, for it is they who will besatisfied.

7Happy are those who show mercy, for it is to them that mercy will be shown.

8Happy are the pure in heart, for it is they who will see God.

9Happy are the peace-makers, for it is they who will be called God’s children.

10Happy are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for it is to them that the kingdom of heaven belongs.

The discourse begins with a manifesto on the values of the kingdom of heaven which is carefully constructed for easy memorization and maximum impact. The sharply paradoxical character of most of its recommendations reverses the conventional values of society6—it commends those whom the world in general would dismiss as losers and wimps; compare the presentation of disciples as “little ones” in 10:42; 18:6, 10, 14; 25:40 (cf. the “little children” of 11:25). The beatitudes thus call on those who would be God’s people to stand out as different from those around them, and promise them that those who do so will not ultimately be the losers. While the promises in vv. 4–9 do not specifically mention God as subject, the implication of the passive verbs is that it is God who will comfort, give the inheritance, satisfy, show mercy and call them his children.

a. The “Beatitude” Form

Beatitudes (statements of the form “Happy is/are …”) occur in both pagan and Judeo-Christian literature.7 For some OT examples see Pss 1:1; 32:1–2; 40:4; 119:1–2; 128:1. In the NT compare Matt 11:6; 13:16; 16:17; 24:46, and many instances in Luke (1:45; 10:23; 11:27–28 etc.).8 The Greek adjective makarios (“happy”; see below) has spawned the verb makarizō, “to call happy” (Luke 1:48; Jas 5:11; the verb occurs frequently in classical Greek) and the derivative noun makarismos, a “calling happy,” a beatitude (Rom 4:6,9). Such “macarisms” are normally single statements, and there is no close parallel to Matthew’s carefully structured set of eight beatitudes. Sir 25:7–11, with its list of nine or ten types of people whom the sage “calls happy,” resembles Matt 5:3–10 in range but not in regularity of form (Sirach uses the verb makarizō once and the adjective makarios only twice); in Sir 14:20–27 there is a similar description of a (single) person whom the sage designates makarios (using the adjective once only, to introduce the series of descriptive clauses).9 But in comparison with Matt 5:3–10 the lists in Sirach are strikingly conventional: they lack both the paradoxes of the Matthean list and also the regular inclusion of explicit reasons for the commendations in the “for it is they …” clauses (a feature which is lacking in most other biblical beatitudes apart from Luke 6:20–22).10

b. The Meaning of Makarios

“Macarisms” are essentially commendations, congratulations, statements to the effect that a person is in a good situation, sometimes even expressions of envy.11 The Hebrew equivalent of makarios is ʾašrê rather than the more theologically loaded bārûk, “blessed (by God).” The traditional English rendering “blessed” thus also has too theological a connotation in modern usage; the Greek term for “blessed (by God)” is eulogētos, not makarios. The sense of congratulation and commendation is perhaps better conveyed by “happy,” but this term generally has too psychological a connotation: makarios does not state that a person feels happy (“Happy are those who mourn” is a particularly inappropriate translation if the word is understood in that way), but that they are in a “happy” situation, one which other people ought also to wish to share. “Fortunate” gets closer to the sense, but has inappropriate connotations of luck. “Congratulations to …” would convey much of the impact of a “macarism”, but perhaps sounds too colloquial. The Australian idiom “Good on yer” is perhaps as close as any to the sense, but would not communicate in the rest of the English-speaking world! My favorite translation of makarios is the traditional Welsh rendering of the beatitudes, Gwyn eu byd, literally “White is their world,” an evocative idiom for those for whom everything is good. Beatitudes are descriptions, and commendations, of the good life.12

c. The Structure of Matthew’s Beatitudes

These eight statements13 are clearly designed as a coherent group. The epigrammatic form of the eight pronouncements

“Happy are those who …[a quality or activity in the present tense], for it is they who … [a future verb, except in vv. 3 and 10]”

is repeated each time with only very minor variation. The first and last of the group both have the same second clause, “for it is to them that the kingdom of heaven belongs,” thus forming a framework which sets the tone for the promises which come between. The first four qualities all begin in Greek with p, which might be merely coincidental, but suggests to many a deliberate alliteration; in that case, however, it is perhaps surprising that no attempt was made by the Greek translator14 to carry the alliterative pattern through the remaining four. The effect of this tightly-controlled structure is to produce an easily memorable unit of teaching, a pocket guide to life in the kingdom of heaven.15

d. Matthew’s Beatitudes Compared with Luke 6:20–26

While both discourses begin with beatitudes, the two sets are very different:

(i) Luke has four beatitudes against Matthew’s eight, corresponding roughly to Matthew’s first, fourth, second and eighth (though the last is in fact much closer to Matt 5:11–12 than to Matt 5:10).

(ii) Luke has four balancing “woes,” to which Matthew has no parallel.

(iii) Luke’s are cast in the second person, “Happy are you …” rather than the third; in this they correspond to Matt 5:11–12 rather than to 5:3–10, which use the more traditional third-person form.16

(iv) The “tone” is quite different. Whereas in Matthew the qualities commended are essentially spiritual and ethical, in Luke they are concerned with the situation in which disciples find themselves, particularly in contrast with the security and satisfaction which the rest of society seeks. There is nothing to suggest that “poor,” “hungry,” “weeping” and “hated” in Luke are to understood as anything other than literal, and their counterparts in the woes (“rich,” “well fed,” “laughing” and respected) maintain the same emphasis. Even where the same words occur in the Matthean beatitudes, they are explicitly qualified in a “spiritualizing” direction: “poor in spirit,” “hungry and thirsty for righteousness.” Thus while the Matthean beatitudes commend in general terms the qualities which promote the good life of the kingdom of heaven, the Lucan beatitudes and woes speak directly to the disciples of their own material and social disadvantage as a result of their following Jesus.17

(v) The cumulative effect of these observations is to cast serious doubt on the common assumption that there was a single original set of beatitudes which either Matthew has “spiritualized” or Luke has “radicalized.” Jesus may well have used the familiar beatitude form on various occasions in the course of his teaching and for various purposes—as indeed the substantial number of other beatitudes scattered singly through these two gospels indicates. Matthew, aware that the sermon outline which he is using as the basis for this discourse began with a set of beatitudes, may well have used for that purpose a different tradition from that used by Luke. That he was aware of the second-person form (and indeed of the specific content of one of Luke’s beatitudes) is clear from his “appendix” in 5:11–12, but he has chosen not to reproduce the distinctively socio-economic manifesto of the second-person Lucan beatitudes and woes.

e. The OT Background to Matthew’s Beatitudes

Not only is the beatitude form familiar from the OT, especially the Psalms, but the content of these beatitudes also echoes familiar OT passages and themes. Isa 61:1–3 tells of good news to the poor (cf. v. 3—and note that in Matthew “good news” has already been defined in terms of the “kingdom of heaven” in 4:23) and of the comforting of those who mourn (cf. v. 4).18 Verse 5 reproduces the LXX wording of Ps 37:11. Verse 8 reflects the “pure in heart” who “seek the face of God” in Ps 24:3–6. More generally, the qualities commended echo closely the character of the ʿ^anāwîm or ʿ^anîyîm, the righteous “meek” or “poor” (the two terms are used interchangeably) who feature so largely in the Psalms and elsewhere as the true people of God whom he will ultimately vindicate against the “proud” and “wicked” who oppress them.19 In other beatitudes, while there may not be such direct verbal echoes, the teaching reflects that of the OT, especially the Psalms: for those who hunger and thirst for righteousness cf. Ps 42:1–2; Isa 55:1–2; for the reciprocal principle of mercy to the merciful cf. Ps 18:25–26; for the peace-makers cf. Ps 34:14. However paradoxical these blessings may seem to those who view things from the world’s point of view, the divine perspective of the kingdom of heaven has been well prepared for already in the psalmists’ accounts of the qualities and experience of the true people of God. Note also the comparable descriptions of those who may approach God’s holy hill in Pss 15 and 24:3–6.

f. The Eschatological Character of the Promises

A distinctive feature of these beatitudes (and of those of Luke 6:20–22) is that they not only list the qualities commended, but they also explain that commendation by a promise appropriate to each quality. The second half of each line is as important as, and indeed is the basis for, the first. All but the first and last are expressed as promises for the future, and the question is often raised whether that future is envisaged as fulfilled within the earthly sphere, or whether it looks to compensation beyond this life. The third beatitude, with its echo of Ps 37:11, raises the issue particularly acutely: “inherit the earth” (or perhaps “the land,” see below) sounds more concrete than a purely heavenly reward. So are these beatitudes speaking of benefits “now in this age” and not only “in the age to come”? That is the language Jesus uses in Mark 10:30, but we shall note that Matt 19:28–29 avoids such an explicit dichotomy, and is worded in such a way that it can be read as speaking only of heavenly reward. On the other hand, the present tense used in verses 3b and 10b, “it is to them that the kingdom of heaven belongs,” warns against a purely futuristic interpretation, and suggests that the simple dichotomy between “now” and “then” may miss the breadth of Matthew’s conception of the blessings of the kingdom of heaven. The kingdom of heaven has already arrived (4:17, and see on 3:2), and so these are people who are already under God’s beneficent rule. The advantages of being God’s people can then be expected to accrue already in this life, even though the full consummation of their blessedness remains for the future. The tension between “now” and “not yet,” so familiar from much of the rest of the NT, may appropriately be seen as running also through the promises of Matt 5:3–10.20

3 “Poor in spirit” recalls the ʿ^anîyîm or ʿ^anāwîm, the “poor/meek” of the Psalms (see above section 5), who, while they do experience material poverty, are also, and primarily, presented as God’s faithful people, humbly dependent on his protection in the face of the oppression which they endure from the ungodly rich. For “poor in spirit” cf. also Isa 66:2, “the poor/humble (ʿānî) and contrite in spirit, who trembles at my word.” “Poor” continues to be used in this positive sense in later Jewish literature, particularly the Psalms of Solomon and the Qumran literature (where the phrase ʿ^anîyî-rûaḥ, “the poor in spirit” occurs in a similar sense, 1QM 14:7; cf. rûaḥ ʿ^anāwâ, “a spirit of meekness”, 1QS 4:3).21 The bold NEB translation of this verse, “How blest are those who know their need of God,” while it may have been too specific (and was abandoned by REB), well reflects this background of thought. “Poverty in spirit” is not speaking of weakness of character (“mean-spiritedness”) but rather of a person’s relationship with God. It is a positive spiritual orientation,22 the converse of the arrogant self-confidence which not only rides roughshod over the interests of other people but more importantly causes a person to treat God as irrelevant. To say that it is to such people that the kingdom of heaven belongs means (not of course that they themselves hold royal authority but) that they are the ones who gladly accept God’s rule and who therefore enjoy the benefits which come to his subjects. The second clause of v. 3, repeated in v. 10 (see above section 3), thus establishes the general context for the more specific blessings promised in vv. 4–9. This is the “good news of the kingdom” (v. 23) announced in v. 17, and poverty of spirit is the product of the repentance which was there declared to be the appropriate response to the coming of God’s reign.

4 This verse illustrates the danger of treating the first half of a beatitude in isolation from the second half. To say simply that those who mourn are “happy” (see above section 2) would clearly be nonsense. Their “happiness” consists in the fact that they will be comforted. The echo of Isa 61:2–3 (following the echo of Isa 61:1 in the “good news to the poor” in v. 3) indicates that the “mourning” envisaged is not primarily, as modern use of the verb might suggest, that of personal bereavement, but rather of those whose situation is wretched. Isa 61:2–3 goes on to contrast their “ashes” with “a garland” and “the oil of gladness,” “the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit.” Its message is of the restoration of oppressed Israel (cf Luke 2:25, “the consolation of Israel”). For those who, as God’s people, find their current situation intolerable and incomprehensible, there are better times ahead. When they will be is not stated (see above section 6); experience indicates that while for some there will be a reversal of fortunes in this life, this is not always so. The statement in 9:15 that the wedding guests (the disciples) cannot mourn while the bridegroom (Jesus) is with them speaks of the specific contrast between the period of Jesus’ earthly ministry and the time to follow, whereas this beatitude speaks of a general characteristic of God’s people: there will be times of rejoicing, but their situation in the world is generally one of disadvantage and therefore of mourning.

5 “Meek,” like “poor in spirit,” speaks not only of those who are in fact disadvantaged and powerless, but also of those whose attitude is not arrogant and oppressive.23 The term in itself may properly be understood of their relations with other people; they are those who do not throw their weight about. But “meek,” as well as “poor,” is used to translate ʿ^anāwîm in the Psalms, where the emphasis is more on their relationship with God. It is the ʿ^anāwîm who according to Ps 37:11 will inherit the earth (or “land”) when the “wicked” who have oppressed them have been cut off. They are further described in Ps 37:7–9 as “those who wait for the Lord” instead of fretting and scheming to right their own wrongs. In echoing this psalm so closely Jesus clearly intended to promise a reversal of fortunes such as the psalm envisages, but whereas the “inheriting of the land” in the psalm seems to be understood in terms of earthly reversal,24 the overall tone of these beatitudes does not encourage us to interpret his words here quite so literally (see above p. 164). Cf. Isa 61:7 where the “poor” and “mourning” of 61:1–3 (see on vv. 3–4) are promised inheritance of the land; if the promises to them in the first two beatitudes apply to the kingdom of heaven, the same should presumably apply to their inheritance. There is a general tendency in the NT to treat OT promises about “the land” as finding fulfillment in non-territorial ways,25 and such an orientation seems required here too.26 The focus is on the principle of reversal of fortunes rather than on a specific “inheritance.” For “meek” as a characteristic of Jesus himself see 11:29; 12:15–21; 21:5.27

6 Dikaiosynē, “righteousness,” is the term used in LXX to translate Hebrew ṣdāqâ, which is often better translated “deliverance” or “salvation,” sometimes even “victory,” referring to God’s putting right what is wrong. On this basis many interpreters have suggested that dikaiosunē here represents not the behavior of the disciple but rather the action of God, understood either as his exercise of “justice” in the world, especially as his intervention on their behalf,28 or as his saving gift of “justification” in the Pauline sense. NEB’s translation “those who hunger and thirst to see right prevail,” represents the former option. But in Matthew’s usage dikaiosynē is overwhelmingly concerned with right conduct, with living the way God requires (see on 3:15), and in 5:20 dikaiosynē will be used emphatically in this sense. 5:10 follows closely on this beatitude, and the “righteousness” which is there the cause of persecution can hardly be understood as divine action. It is thus better understood here not of those who wish to see God’s will prevail in the world in general or on their own behalf in particular, but of those who are eager themselves to live as God requires,29 those who can say, as Jesus himself is recorded as saying in John 4:34, “My food is to do the will of the one who sent me.” The metaphor of hunger and thirst in this connection recalls 4:4, the idea of living not on physical food but on every word that comes from God. It is a matter of priorities. Such hunger and thirst will be fully satisfied: chortazomai, a graphic word used also for fattening animals, implies being well filled, as in 14:20, colloquially being “stuffed.”30

7 For “mercy” as God’s requirement cf. 9:13; 12:7; 23:23. The principle of reciprocity embodied here comes to fuller expression elsewhere in Matthew. In connection specifically with mercy and forgiveness see 6:14–15 and its “commentary” in 18:21–35. It is expressed more generally in the “measure for measure” epigram of 7:2, while 7:1–5 fills out the principle with regard to the specific issue of criticism. The golden rule of 7:12 establishes the same principle at the heart of Jesus’ ethic. “Mercy” is closely linked with forgiveness, but is broader here than just the forgiveness of specific offences: it is a generous attitude which is willing to see things from the other’s point of view and is not quick to take offense or to gloat over others’ shortcomings (the prime characteristic of love according to 1 Cor 13:4–7). Mercy sets aside society’s assumption that it is honorable to demand revenge. The passive verb here (as in vv. 4b, 6b and 9b) speaks primarily not of how other people will respond to the merciful person, but of how God will deal with those who live by his standards.

8 Again the OT passage which this beatitude echoes fills out its meaning. Those who are qualified to “ascend the hill of the Lord” and “stand in his holy place” are characterized by “clean hands and a pure heart,” which is then defined in terms of truthfulness and of an active “seeking” for God (Ps 24:3–6). The meaning is thus not far from that of v. 6, with its emphasis on a longing to live the life God requires. In the context of first-century Judaism, with its strong emphasis on ritual “purity,” the phrase “pure in heart” might also be understood to imply a contrast with the meticulous preservation of outward purity which will be condemned in 23:25–28 as having missed the point of godliness;31 but no such connotation is likely in Psalm 24, on which this beatitude is based. The vision of God which is the goal of the pure in heart (Ps 24:6; cf. Pss 11:7; 17:15; 27:5; 42:2 for this aspiration), and which is here promised to them, is sometimes in the OT expressed in terms of an actual “seeing” (Exod 24:10; Isa 6:1) though these are clearly marked out as exceptional. More often it is the invisibility of God which is stressed (Exod 33:18–23) and this is strongly reinforced in the NT (John 1:18; 1 Tim 1:17; 6:16). There may be visionary experiences in this world which include a “seeing” of God, as for John on Patmos, but “seeing God’s face” is a privilege reserved for the new Jerusalem (Rev 22:4; cf. 1 Cor 13:12; 1 John 3:2). Meanwhile, it is the “angels” of God’s people, not those people themselves, who see his face in heaven (18:10; see further discussion there). Here on earth the people of God may find strength “as if seeing him who is invisible,” (Heb 11:27) but such “seeing” remains only a foretaste of the true vision of God in heaven.

9 It is a characteristic of God’s true people to “seek peace and pursue it.” (Ps 34:14) This beatitude goes beyond a merely peaceful disposition to an active attempt to “make” peace, perhaps by seeking reconciliation with one’s own enemies, but also more generally by bringing together those who are estranged from one another. Such costly “peace-making,” which involves overcoming the natural desire for advantage and/or retribution, will be illustrated in the extraordinary demands of 5:39–42 which overturn the natural human principle of the lex talionis. (We will be reminded in 10:34, however, that not all conflict can or should be avoided; the issue there is not inter-personal relationships but faithfulness to God’s cause in the face of opposition.) While the focus here is probably primarily on personal ethics, the principle of peace-making has further implications. H. D. Betz (Sermon 140) well comments that the discourse “recognizes war, persecution and injustice as part of the evil world…. Peacemaking is a means of involvement in the human predicament of warlike conditions” which “implies assuming responsibility against all the odds, risking peacemaking out of a situation of powerlessness, and demonstrating the conviction that in the end God’s kingdom will prevail.” Peacemakers “will be called God’s children” (the passive probably implies that God himself will recognize them as his true children) on the basis that God’s children reflect God’s character (5:44–45), and God is the ultimate peace-maker. The Semitic idiom “sons of …”32 often indicates those who share a certain character or status; for varied examples in Matthew see 8:12, “sons of the kingdom;” 9:15, “sons of the wedding-hall;” 13:38, “sons of the evil one;” 23:31, “sons of those who killed the prophets.” Here and in 5:45 “sons of God” similarly expresses the idea of sharing God’s character, but a more relational sense is probably also implied since, while Matthew generally reserves “son of God” language for Jesus and does not elsewhere reflect the Pauline language of “becoming sons of God” as a term for salvation (e.g. Rom 8:14–17), he will frequently record Jesus as speaking to his disciples of “your Father in heaven” (5:16, 45, 48 etc.).

10 The pursuit of “righteousness” (v. 6) can arouse opposition from those whose interests or self-respect may be threatened by it. Already in the commendation of the merciful and the peace-makers these beatitudes have marked out the true disciple not as a hermit engaged in the solitary pursuit of holiness but as one engaged in society, and such engagement has its cost. As the following verses will spell out more fully, to live as subjects of the kingdom of heaven is to be set over against the rest of society which does not share its values, and the result may be—indeed the uncompromising wording of this beatitude suggests that it will be—persecution. Cf. 1 Peter 3:14, which echoes this beatitude, and for the likelihood of persecution for God’s people cf. in this gospel 10:16–39; 22:6; 23:29–36; 24:9–13.33 In vv. 11–12 the further element of an explicit allegiance to Jesus himself will be added to the cause of persecution, but already in the light of 3:15 and 5:6 “righteousness” sums up his distinctive mission and ethic.34 For the persecution of those who “know righteousness” cf. Isa 51:7.

3. The Distinctiveness of the Disciples (5:11–16)

11Happy are you when people insult you and persecute you and make all sorts of [false]1 accusations against you because of me; 12be glad and celebrate, because you have a great reward in heaven; remember, that was how they persecuted the prophets who came before you.

13You are the salt of the earth. If salt itself becomes tasteless,2 what else is there to salt it with? It is no good for anything any more except to be thrown out and trampled under people’s feet.

14You are the light of the world. A town built on top of a hill cannot be hidden. 15Nor do people light a lamp only to put it under a bowl; they put it on a lampstand so that it gives light to everyone in the house. 16In the same way your light must shine in front of other people, so that they can see the good you do and give glory to your Father in heaven.

I have pointed out above (p. 161, n. 13) that the so-called “ninth beatitude”, vv. 11–12, is in fact a repetition and expansion of v. 10, and stands from a literary point of view outside the tightly-structured unit of eight beatitudes. It lacks the epigrammatic conciseness of vv. 3–10, nor does it repeat their regular formula “for it is they / to them….” Moreover, its change to a second-person form links it directly with the verses that follow rather than with vv. 3–10. Like vv. 13–16, vv. 11–12 speak of the sharp contrast between the disciples (whose “good life” has been spelled out in the third person in vv. 3–10) and other people around them. I therefore think it more appropriate, despite the repetition of the opening makarioi, to treat the “ninth beatitude” not as a part of the beatitudes as such but as the linking introduction to this following section which comments on the effect of living the good life on the rest of society.

At this point, then, the discourse turns from a general statement about the good life to a specific address to the disciples gathered round Jesus on the hillside. Because they have committed themselves to follow Jesus and so to adopt the new values of the kingdom of heaven they are now going to stand out as different from other people. The address is in the second person plural not only because more than one person is being addressed, but because it is the corporate impact of the disciple community, as an alternative society, which is here in view. The hill-top town of v. 14 is a symbol not of a conspicuous individual but of the collective impact of a whole community. Modern Western individualism is such that we easily think of the light of the world as a variety of little candles shining “you in your small corner and I in mine,” but it is the collective light of a whole community which draws the attention of the watching world.3

The statement about persecution and the two (or three, if the town on the hill is seen as separate, see below) metaphors that follow embody two complementary features of the distinctiveness of the disciple community. On the one hand, they are different from those around them. Salt has its effect only because, and for so long as, it has a distinctive saltiness. Light is effective because of its contrast with surrounding darkness. It is this visible distinctiveness which arouses the hostility of others and leads to the slander and persecution which the “ninth beatitude” celebrates. But on the other hand it is only those who are involved with other people who will be seen to be different and so attract persecution. Salt is no use as long as it stays in the salt-cellar. Light is no use under a bowl. It is the town conspicuously sited on the hill which people notice. And the outcome of distinctive discipleship is intended to be that other people will notice and, though sometimes they may respond with cynicism and persecution, ultimately the light will have its effect and they will recognize and acknowledge the goodness of the God who is its source. Disciples, therefore, must be both distinctive and involved. Neither the indistinguishably assimilated nor the inaccessible hermit will fulfill the mandate of these challenging verses.

11 Verses 11–12 are closely parallel in sense and structure to the expansive fourth beatitude of Luke 6:22–23, though Matthew’s wording is less graphic. Two of his verbs relate to verbal attack (“insult,” “make [false] accusations”), though the outcome of the accusations might well be more than verbal. “Persecute” (the same verb as in v. 10) is broader, and would cover also physical or economic ill-treatment. A significant new note in comparison with v. 10 is that the cause of persecution is not simply “righteousness,” the distinctive life-style of the disciples, but more specifically “because of me”, a phrase which makes it clear that this discourse is not just a call to moral conduct but is grounded in the unique authority and radical demands of Jesus himself. The theme of this verse is expanded in 1 Pet 2:12; 3:13–17; 4:3–5, 13–16, where it is clear that first-century disciples in a non-Christian environment were subject to persecution not only because of their distinctive behavior but also more specifically “as a Christian,” “sharing Christ’s sufferings;” 1 Peter repeatedly emphasizes the possibility of being abused for good conduct.

12 The call to be glad about persecution (1 Pet 4:13 again picks up the thought; cf also 1 Pet 1:6) sounds paradoxical, particularly in the exuberant terms Matthew uses. But as with the beatitude concerning those who mourn the blessing is not in the suffering in itself but in its promised outcome. The beatitudes of vv. 3–10 have pronounced people happy “because” they are the ones to whom good things are promised, and here again there is a “because.” The concept of a reward to compensate the disadvantages of the disciples now becomes explicit. Unlike many modern Christians, Matthew is not coy about the “reward” that awaits those who are faithful to their calling.4 He will use the word again in 5:46; 6:1, 2, 5, 16; 10:41, 42, and the concept of a heavenly recompense is built into several of his parables (notably 20:1–15; 24:45–47; 25:20–23) as well as more broadly into the teaching of Jesus (6:4, 6, 18; 19:27–29; 25:34–40), though the parable of 20:1–15 will warn us against a crude “quid-pro-quo” concept of repayment which can be earned; God’s “reward” is far more generous than that.5 The source of the disciples’ celebration is the recognition that the good which is promised to them far outweighs the bad that they may experience now. What form the “great reward”6 will take is not spelled out here, beyond the fact that it is “in heaven,” and that phrase is probably best understood not of a location so much as of a relationship with God (compare Matthew’s use of “kingdom of heaven” where others use “kingdom of God”). For the eschatological orientation of the beatitudes, see above, introduction to 5:3–10, section 6.

The persecution of the prophets was an established feature of Jewish folk-memory, stated in general terms in 2 Chr 36:16; Neh 9:26 and amply illustrated within the OT itself, notably in the case of Jeremiah (Jer 20:10; 26:10–19; 36–38 etc.) and his contemporaries (Jer 26:20–23); cf. 1 Kgs 18:4; 19:1–3; Amos 7:10–12. It was further developed in post-biblical traditions such as those alluded to in Heb 11:36–38.7 Jesus will incorporate the theme in his parable of the vineyard (21:34–36; cf. 22:6) and develop it more fully in 23:29–36 (cf. also 13:57; 17:12). Those who have spoken out for God have always been liable to the violent reprisals of the ungodly. In the light of that heritage, to be persecuted for the sake of Jesus is a badge of honor. The phrase “the prophets who came before you” perhaps suggests that Jesus’ disciples are now the prophetic voice on earth (cf. 10:41; 23:34).8

13 The call to accept persecution with joy is now followed in vv. 13–16 by a series of images which explain why it is important that disciples should both be different and be seen to be different. Sir 39:26 lists salt as one of the basic essentials for human life; cf. Sop. 15:8, “The world cannot endure without salt.” Disciples are no less essential to the well-being of “the earth,” which here refers to human life in general. For other metaphorical uses of salt in the NT cf. Mark 9:50; Col 4:6; in both cases it symbolizes a beneficial influence on human relationships, but the precise nature of the symbolism is not certain. The two most significant uses of salt in the ancient world were for flavoring and for the preservation of food,9 and either or both of those uses would provide an appropriate sense here: the disciples are to provide flavor to the world they live in (perhaps with the thought of salt as wisdom, as in Col 4:6 and in some rabbinic sayings), and/or they are to help to prevent its corruption. The two ideas are not incompatible; disciples are to make the world a better place.10 “The earth” (like “the world” in v. 14) thus represents the sphere of their influence and is not itself part of the metaphor.11 A further nuance may be found in the use of salt in the OT in connection with the covenant; on this basis it has been suggested that there is a more specifically Israelite focus, in that “the disciples are seen as in prophetic succession, and thus like their OT counterparts as covenant witnesses and guarantors to their age.”12

Unsalty salt is a contradiction in terms (“like water losing its wetness,” Betz); if it is not salty, it is not salt. But salt as used in the ancient world was seldom pure sodium chloride. The “salt” collected around the Dead Sea13 contained a mixture of other minerals,14 and it is possible to imagine the true salt content being washed out, leaving a useless residue.15 In any case, Jesus is not teaching chemistry, and the ludicrous imagery of trying to “salt” that which should itself be the source of saltiness is a powerful indictment of disciples who have lost their distinctiveness and so no longer have anything to contribute to society. The verb which I have translated “becomes tasteless” more literally means “becomes foolish.” The apparently inappropriate verb points to the metaphorical role of the salt here, to symbolize the wholesome flavor of wisdom which disciples are to contribute. We use “taste” to speak of an aesthetic rather than an intellectual quality, but “tasteless” perhaps goes some way towards catching what may have been a more obvious double-entendre in Hebrew and Aramaic, where the verb tāpēl can mean both to be tasteless and to be foolish.16 The trampling of the tasteless “salt” does not have to imply that it then finds a useful role as surfacing for a path; it is simply thrown out into the street as refuse.17

14 We have already met the metaphor of light and darkness in the Isaiah quotation in 4:16, where the light symbolized the new hope which arose through Jesus’ preaching of the coming of God’s reign. Where there is light people can find their way and everything is clear; where there is darkness they stumble and are lost; the imagery is strongly developed especially in the fourth gospel, where it is Jesus himself who is “the light of the world,” John 8:12 (cf. 1:4–5, 9). Here the light which Jesus brings is provided also by his disciples, who will soon be commissioned to share in his ministry of proclamation and deliverance. Cf. the mission of God’s servant to be “a light to the nations” (Isa 42:6; 49:6). The world needs that light, and it is through the disciples that it must be visible. The world (kosmos, not the “earth,” gē, as in v. 13)18 again refers to the world of people, as the application in v. 16 makes clear; cf. the call to Christians to shine in the kosmos, Phil 2:15.

The metaphor of light, and of the need for it to be where it can be seen, will be further developed in vv. 15–16, but first the apparently separate metaphor of the hill-top town19 intrudes. It is in itself another effective metaphor for visibility,20 but its presence in the middle of the sayings about light is surprising. See, however, the quotation from “Marcelino” in p. 171, n. 3 above: the combined impact of the many lights which make up a town at night illustrates more appropriately than the single lamp of v. 15 the corporate effect of the disciple community on the surrounding darkness.

15 A domestic lamp was a shallow bowl of oil with a wick. It would normally be stationary, placed on a fixed lampstand, rather than mobile like the “torches” of 25:1. The “bowl” is literally a grain-measure holding about nine liters, probably made of earthenware or basket-work. While it may be true that a lamp placed under such a receptacle would soon go out for lack of oxygen,21 the point seems to be rather the absurdity of hiding a lamp when its whole raison d’être is to be visible.22 Similar sayings of Jesus are found in Mark 4:21 (par. Luke 8:16, and cf. Gos. Thom. 33) and Luke 11:33. In the former the lamp illustrates the revelation which comes through the preaching of the kingdom of God, while in the latter the saying is linked with Luke’s parallel to Matt 6:22–23 which is concerned with inward “light.” The metaphor thus suited a variety of applications, but here the context indicates that it is about the effect which the life of disciples must have on those around them. It thus takes it for granted that the “job description” of a disciple is not fulfilled by private personal holiness, but includes the witness of public exposure.23

16 The metaphor of v. 15 is now explained more prosaically, with the “light” shed by disciples interpreted as the good that they do. The phrase “good deeds” conveys the qualities set out in the beatitudes, and especially the “righteousness” of life which is to be characteristic of disciples (cf. vv. 6, 10, 20); the phrase and the concept are echoed in 1 Pet 2:11–12. It is only as this distinctive lifestyle is visible to others that it can have its desired effect. But that effect is also now spelled out not as the improvement and enlightenment of society as such, but rather as the glorifying of God by those outside the disciple community. The subject of this discourse, and the aim of the discipleship which it promotes, is not so much the betterment of life on earth as the implementation of the reign if God. The goal of disciples’ witness is not that others emulate their way of life, or applaud their probity, but that they recognize the source of their distinctive lifestyle in “your Father in heaven.” This phrase, which is distinctive of Matthew’s gospel and will be repeated throughout the discourse (5:45, 48; 6:1, 9, 14, 26, 32; 7:11; cf. “your Father” also in 6:4, 6, 8, 15, 18), reflects not a universal concept of the fatherhood of God towards all his human creatures but the distinctive relationship which exists between God and those who, through their response to Jesus’ message, have become subjects of his kingdom. The metaphor of father, superimposed on that of king, imparts a new depth and richness to the concept of discipleship already set out in the beatitudes of 5:3–10.

There is a prima facie discrepancy between this verse and the principle of 6:1, amplified in 6:2–6, 16–18, that religious observance should not be undertaken “in front of other people so that they will notice you.” But the discrepancy is only on the surface: the ostentatious performance of religious acts in order to win approbation is not at all the same thing as a life of conspicuous goodness lived in the public arena so that people cannot help being impressed. The effect (and the intention) of the former is a reputation for piety; the result of the latter is the glory of God. See further on 6:1.

4. Fulfilling the law (5:17–48)

While we shall subdivide this section of the discourse for the purpose of commentary, it is important to recognize its coherence as a concentrated section of teaching on a single theme, the fulfillment of the law. It is the most extensive discussion of this issue anywhere in the gospel tradition, and raises important questions about Jesus’ teaching on how his disciples are to do the will of God. It raises acutely the issue of Jesus’ messianic authority in relation to the existing authority of the Torah and of its authorized interpreters at the time, and illustrates the tensions which were to lead to the ultimate decision of the Jewish leadership that Jesus was a dangerous influence who must be eliminated. But its tone is not primarily polemical or negative. It sets out by means of a series of graphic examples the sort of obedience to the will of God to which the OT law could only begin to point the way. This radical approach to discipleship goes far beyond the best righteousness that the scribes and Pharisees could envisage (5:20); its goal is nothing less than sharing the perfection of God himself (5:48).

The apparently abrupt change of subject in v. 17 is to be understood in the light of the concept of a new people of God which has emerged throughout the first part of the discourse. The question of the continuity of this people with the old Israel and its institutions will be a recurrent theme throughout the gospel, and the role of the OT law is a central aspect of that question.1 Here is a presentation of the law of the new covenant, as both in continuity and in contrast with the OT law.2

These verses may be conveniently divided into three main sections:

5:17–20 Fulfilling the law: general principles

5:21–47 Fulfilling the law: six examples

5:48 Fulfilling the law: summary (to be reinforced later by a further summary of the law and the prophets in 7:12).

a. Fulfilling the Law: General Principles (5:17–20)

17Do not suppose that I came to abolish the law or the prophets; I did not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. 18I tell you truly: until heaven and earth pass away not one small letter or a single stroke of the pen3 will pass away from the law until everything has taken place. 19So anyone who sets aside one of these smallest commandments and teaches others to disregard them4 will be called the smallest in the kingdom of heaven; it is the person who does them and teaches them who will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20For I tell you that if your righteousness does not go far beyond5 that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never get into the kingdom of heaven.

While there is a basic coherence of theme in these verses, each verse is in fact making a rather different point, and some interpreters, assuming that a number of originally separate sayings relating to the observance of the law have been brought together here for convenience, have therefore interpreted them in isolation from each other. That is to do less than justice to Matthew’s careful compilation of this discourse. Whatever the origin of the sayings collected here, Matthew must have thought that they made coherent sense together, and it is our responsibility to try to discern that sense.6

It is these verses more than anything else in the gospel that have fostered the impression that Matthew took a very conservative line on legal observance, believing that the Christian disciple was bound to continue to obey all the commandments of the Torah just as much as, or indeed more meticulously than, those Jews who had not followed Jesus.7 Verses 18 and 19 taken on their own can certainly give that impression.

If that is what Matthew intended, the interpreter must face the fact that this teaching is out of step with the overall thrust of NT Christianity and with the almost universal consensus of Christians ever since, at least with regard to the more ceremonial aspects of the OT law, particularly its sacrificial provisions.8 The Letter to the Hebrews is clear that these can have no further place after the one perfect sacrifice has been offered by Christ. Paul, while his attitude to the law provides scope for a rich variety of interpretations and doctoral dissertations, uses language about freedom from the law (Gal 5:1–6) or being dead to the law (Rom 7:1–6; Gal 2:19) and about Christ as the end of the law (Rom 10:4; cf Gal 3:24–25) which sits very uncomfortably with a view that Torah-observance is unchanged since the coming of the Messiah. Under his and Peter’s guidance the NT church found it necessary to abandon the OT food-laws as binding on all Christians (Acts 11:2–10; Rom 14:14).

But the view that Matthew regarded all OT laws (presumably including the sacrificial and food laws) as still binding regulations for the conduct of Jesus’ disciples not only runs counter to the rest of the NT and of subsequent Christian thinking, but also conflicts with clear pointers within his own gospel. In 15:11 Jesus will make a pronouncement which in effect undercuts the whole complex of the Levitical laws of purity (see comments there). And in the verses which will immediately follow this section we shall see Jesus taking issue in various ways with a literal observance of the law as regulation, sometimes by simply going beyond its literal sense to a more nuanced understanding, but sometimes in the process leaving the regulations themselves as at best irrelevant and apparently even obsolete (see comments below on vv. 32, 34, 39).

Nor is the problem confined to a tension between vv. 17–20 and vv. 21–47. Even within this small section another note is heard. While v. 19 sounds like an endorsement of the scribal concern to ensure that every detail of the law should be observed to the letter, v. 20 speaks of the “righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees” (which consisted of a scrupulous observance not only of the OT laws but also of their burgeoning elaboration of those laws) as something other than the righteousness of the kingdom of heaven, and warns that that sort of legal observance leaves one outside the kingdom of heaven altogether.

Undeniably there is tension and development within the attitude to the law which is reflected in Matthew’s gospel. But it is the responsibility of the exegete to try to make coherent sense of the text as it stands, before charging the author with blatant contradiction or clumsy editing. The following verse-by-verse comments will make that attempt.

In the light of the comment just made about the tension between vv. 19 and 20, there is a prima facie case to be made that Matthew is conscious of two opposite tendencies with which he is concerned, on the one hand a tendency to claim, in line with Paul’s “freedom from the law” teaching, that the OT laws no longer matter and can be abandoned,9 and on the other hand a tendency to emulate the scribes and the Pharisees in careful literal observance of the law as if nothing had changed with the coming of the Messiah. The former of these tendencies is confronted in vv. 17–19, the latter in v. 20 (illustrated by the examples which follow in vv. 21–47). It is likely that the material Matthew has brought together for this two-pronged attack is derived from teaching which Jesus gave on different occasions and in relation to different groups. What we must investigate is whether in bringing these contrasting strands of teaching together in this discourse he has produced an incompatible mixture, or whether there is a consistent principle with regard to Jesus and the law which underlies the correctives which he offers to the two opposite extremes. The key to this issue must be what is meant by Jesus “fulfilling” the law and the prophets.

17 For “the law and the prophets” (the “or” here results from the negative form of the sentence) as a way of referring to what we now call the OT see 7:12; 22:40; Acts 24:14; 28:23; Rom 3:21; the third element in the Hebrew scriptures, the “writings,” does not need to be specifically included.10 The repetition of the phrase in 7:12 marks the end of the central teaching of the discourse, though the teaching between 6:1 and 7:11 is not explicitly formulated in relation to the OT.

“Do not suppose …” might be no more than a teaching device to draw attention to Jesus’ positive statement by first setting out its opposite (cf. 10:34), but it is not unlikely that there were in fact some who did suppose that Jesus was against the law and the prophets.11 His disagreements with the scribes over the correct way to observe the law (notably with regard to the sabbath, see 12:1–14) would easily have given them the impression that he sat light to the authority of the law itself; the same charge persisted with regard to his followers (Acts 6:11, 13–14; 21:28). By the time Matthew was writing, the “freedom from the law” message of some of Christianity’s leading teachers would have strengthened this impression.12 Jesus, it seemed, had set himself up against the written word of God. The issue is not simply an accusation of failing to keep the law in practice, but of aiming to “abolish” scriptural authority. The verb katalyō is used of dismantling and destroying a building or institution (24:2; 26:61; 27:40); with reference to an authoritative text it means to declare that it is no longer valid, to repeal or annul.13 The issue is thus not Jesus’ personal practice as such, but his attitude to the authority of the law and the prophets.

It is therefore improbable that when he contrasts “abolish” with “fulfill” he is speaking simply about obeying the requirements of the law and the prophets.14 “Fulfill” (rather than “obey,” “do,” “keep”) would not be the natural way to say that, and such a sense would not answer the charge of aiming to “abolish.” In Matthew’s gospel the verb plēroō, “fulfill,” plays a prominent role, most notably in its ten occurrences in the formula-quotations (see on 1:22 and above pp. 11–14) where it denotes the coming into being of that to which Scripture pointed forward (whether by direct prediction or understood typologically). The same sense appears in 26:54, 56 where Jesus’ suffering is seen as “fulfilling the Scriptures,” and in 13:14 where a compound form of the same verb (anaplēroō) again speaks of an OT prophecy coming true in contemporary experience. In 3:15 to “fulfill all righteousness” appears to denote the action which will bring about God’s redemptive purpose through Jesus (see discussion there). Apart from a single non-metaphorical use (of “filling up” a net, 13:48), its only other use in Matthew is in 23:32 of the hostile actions of the scribes and Pharisees “filling up the measure” of their ancestors, where again the sense of reaching a destined conclusion seems to be dominant. In the light of Matthew’s use of this verb elsewhere, and the evident importance it has for his understanding of the relation between the authoritative words of the OT and their contemporary outworking, the sense here is not likely to be concerned either with Jesus’ actions in relation to the law or even his teaching about it, but rather the way in which he “fulfills” the pattern laid down in the law and the prophets. It is important to note that this verse does not speak of Jesus “fulfilling the law,” but rather of his “fulfilling the law and the prophets.” His fulfilling of the prophets is amply illustrated in the formula-quotations: his life and ministry has brought that to which they pointed forward. Is it possible to understand his fulfilling of the law in the same light?

There is an intriguing little saying of Jesus recorded in 11:13 which throws light on this issue. In speaking of the pivotal role of John the Baptist as the point at which the time of fulfillment has dawned, Jesus is recorded as commenting that “All the prophets and the law prophesied until John.” The law is thus linked with the prophets as looking forward to a time of fulfillment which has now arrived.15 The Torah, then, is not God’s last word to his people, but is in a sense provisional, looking forward to a time of fulfillment through the Messiah.16

In the light of that concept, and of the general sense of “fulfill” in Matthew, we might then paraphrase Jesus’ words here as follows: “Far from wanting to set aside the law and the prophets, it is my role to bring into being that to which they have pointed forward, to carry them on into a new era of fulfillment.” On this understanding the authority of the law and the prophets is not abolished. They remain the authoritative word of God. But their role will no longer be the same, now that what they pointed forward to has come, and it will be for Jesus’ followers to discern in the light of his teaching and practice what is now the right way to apply those texts in the new situation which his coming has created. From now on it will be the authoritative teaching of Jesus which must govern his disciples’ understanding and practical application of the law. Verses 21–48 will go on to show how this interpretation can no longer be merely at the level of the literal observance of regulations, but must operate at the deeper and more challenging level of discerning the will of God which underlies the legal rulings of the Torah. If in the process it may appear that certain elements of the law are in fact for all practical purposes “abolished,” this will be attributable not to the loss of their status as the word of God but to their changed role in the era of fulfillment, in which it is Jesus, the fulfiller, rather than the law which pointed forward to him, who is the ultimate authority.

Such an understanding of “fulfilling the law” has gained a considerable degree of assent in recent decades,17 over against the older view of a legally conservative Matthew. It is this understanding of “fulfillment” which will underlie the following comments on vv. 18–19 and which will, I believe, be vindicated by the contrast which Jesus draws in v. 20 between the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees and that of the kingdom of heaven and also by the illustrations which will follow in vv. 21–47.

Jesus will use the phrase “I came to …” to speak of the purpose of his ministry again in 9:13; 10:34–35; 20:28 (cf. 11:19). In the Fourth Gospel this sort of language represents Jesus as a pre-existent figure who has “come into the world” (John 1:9; 9:39; 18:37) from heaven (John 3:13, 31), and it is tempting to find the same implication in Matthew. In a variety of ways Matthew implies or indeed openly states that Jesus is “God with us,” but he does not elsewhere use language which specifically states his pre-existence, and the fact that the same verb (“came”) introduces the distinctive ministry of John the Baptist in 11:18 and 21:32 suggests caution in reading too much into it. It conveys a sense of mission rather than a metaphysical claim.18

18 In vv. 18 and 19 we have the strongest statement in Matthew of the undying significance of the law; the focus has narrowed down to the law alone, and the prophets will not be mentioned again in ch. 5.

This is the first occurrence in Matthew of the phrase amēn legō hymin, “I tell you truly,” which will appear a further thirty times in this gospel, 13 Times in Mark, 6 in Luke and (with the amēn doubled) 25 times in John. It is widely recognized as an authentic and distinctive feature of Jesus’ teaching style,19 with the amēn conveying the personal authority of the one who utters it. The Hebrew root ʾmn denotes faithfulness, reliability, certainty. In the OT and in later Jewish writings ʾāmēn is used responsively to affirm a solemn pronouncement just made by someone else or to conclude a doxology, and in Isa 65:16 God is called “God of ʾāmēn” (cf. the title “the Amen” in Rev 3:14). But Jesus’ introductory use of amēn to confirm his own words is unique. The formula is used in the gospels to emphasize pronouncements which are meant to be noted, particularly those which the hearers may be expected to find surprising or uncomfortable.20

The pronouncement thus marked out is a striking and puzzling epigram. It is clearly a statement of the permanence of the law—notice that the “prophets” of v. 17 have now dropped out of the discussion: it will be the law which is the focus of the rest of ch. 5. The preservation of every least mark of the pen21 is a vivid way of conveying that no part of it can be dispensed with. But the saying is complicated by two “until” clauses; it is not clear how these two clauses relate to one another, or whether they are making the same or different points. “Until heaven and earth pass away” is a conventional way (cf. our “until hell freezes”) of saying for all practical purposes “never” (cf. Jer 31:35–36; 33:20–21, 25–26; Job 14:12; also positively Ps 72:5, 7, 17), and the repetition of the verb “pass away” links the law closely with heaven and earth as being equally permanent; in 24:35 Jesus’ own words are stated to be more permanent than heaven and earth.22

But if this saying is intended simply to assert the permanence of the law, why is a second “until” clause added? Some interpreters assert that the second “until” clause merely repeats the sense of the first and speaks of the (unimaginable) end of the world, but in that case why is the thought repeated before and after the main clause, and why is it expressed in terms of something “happening” (ginomai) when the point of the first clause was to propose something which could not happen (heaven and earth passing away)? “Everything happening”23 is rather the language of eschatological fulfillment (as in the similar saying of 24:34), and if we were right to understand the “fulfilling” of the law and the prophets in terms of a future situation to which the law pointed forward, this clause could be saying that the smallest details of the law would be valid only until the time of fulfillment arrived.24 This would be a natural understanding of “not … until … ,” which seems to suggest a temporary situation. There would then be an undeniable tension with the first “until” clause, since heaven and earth do not pass away when “everything has taken place.” It would be necessary to take the first clause as a conventional statement of inviolability rather than a specific time-designation, with the second “until” clause providing the actual terminus envisaged.

But in the light of Jesus’ claim not to be abolishing the law (v. 17) and of the insistence in v. 19 that even the least of the commandments remains important, v. 18 can hardly be stating that the “jots and tittles” have in fact been invalidated by the coming of fulfillment in Jesus, unless Matthew has done a remarkably poor job of editing these sayings. The jots and tittles are there to be fulfilled, not discarded, and that is what Jesus has come to do. They are not lost, but taken up into the eschatological events to which they pointed forward. The second “until,” then, is not speaking of the time of their abandonment but of their intended goal. The double “until” is admittedly awkward, but we might paraphrase the whole saying as follows: “The law, down to its smallest details, is as permanent as heaven and earth and will never lose its significance; on the contrary, all that it points forward to will in fact become a reality.” Now that that reality has arrived in Jesus, the jots and tittles will be seen in a new light, but they still cannot be discarded.25 It will be the function of vv. 21–47 to illustrate how they may function in this new situation in which they serve not as simple rules of conduct but as pointers to a “greater righteousness” which Jesus has brought into being and which supersedes the old type of law-keeping.

19 The “So” which links this saying with the last rules out the convenient suggestion of some interpreters26 that the “commandments” here spoken of are those of Jesus, not those of the OT law. The context demands that “these smallest commandments” (cf. the rabbinic distinction between “light” and “heavy” commandments) are the same as the jot and tittle of v. 18: because they are as permanent as heaven and earth no-one has the right to set them aside. The verb is lyō, which I have translated more literally as “untie” in 16:19; 18:18;27 it is the root of the verb katalyō which was translated “abolish” in v. 17. In John 10:35 Scripture cannot be invalidated (passive of lyō). The issue is thus again not primarily obedience to the commandments, but undermining their authority by teaching that they can now be ignored.28 The translation “breaks” in NRSV, NIV (but not TNIV) or “disobeys” in GNB thus misses the essential point, which is not so much about behavior as about teaching. Behavior is not excluded, of course, and the converse statement in the second half of the verse includes the “doing” of the commandments as well as teaching, but it is teaching the value of the commandments which is the true converse of setting them aside.

But are the commandments to be “done” in the same way as before Jesus came? To insist on their value as pointers to Jesus does not in itself entail observing them literally as regulations. The use of the verb “do” in v. 19 is easily read as meaning that the rules of the OT law must still be followed as they were before Jesus came, and thus to reinforcing the “righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees” which the next verse will disparage. But if that is what Matthew intended these words to mean he would here be contradicting the whole tenor of the NT by declaring that for instance the sacrificial and food laws of the OT are still binding on Jesus’ disciples—and surely by the time Matthew wrote Christians were already broadly agreed that they were no longer required. In the light of the emphasis on fulfillment which has introduced this passage and which will be central to what follows we can only suppose therefore that he had in mind a different kind of “doing” from that of the scribes and Pharisees, a “doing” appropriate to the time of fulfillment.29 That will mean in effect the keeping of the law as it is now interpreted by Jesus himself,30 and it will be the role of vv. 20–48 to explain what this means in practice. See further on 28:20, where it is the “commandments” of Jesus, not those of the OT, which are to be the basis of Christian discipleship.

Those who belittle the details of the OT law will be called the smallest in the kingdom of heaven. Unlike the scribes and Pharisees of v. 20 they are at least envisaged as being within the kingdom of heaven,31 the new régime which Jesus has brought into being and whose values this discourse is setting out, but they are scarcely worthy of it. The graphic language derives from a play on words between the “smallest” commandments and the “smallest” reputation of the careless disciple. It is not helpful to press it into supporting a view of the kingdom of heaven as a social structure within which there are first- and second-class citizens, a view which Matthew seems at pains to discourage in 20:1–16—cf. the idea that the greatest in the kingdom of heaven are the lowest, 18:1–4; 20:25–27. The dynamic sense of the kingdom of heaven as God’s rule (see on 3:2) suggests rather that to be called great or small in the kingdom of heaven means to be high or low in God’s esteem, to be a more or less worthy representative of those who acknowledge him as king. Disciples should delight in and learn from every word that God has written (cf. 4:4) rather than picking and choosing between them.

20 Another “I tell you,” though this time without the amēn, marks this out as a further significant pronouncement, and one which takes the discussion in a new direction.32 Whereas vv. 18–19 have reinforced the value of every single aspect of the law, and have declared that a true disciple is one who honors it both in teaching and in practice, this saying sets out a radically new understanding of what it means to live under the rule of God.

We have met “scribes” in association with the chief priests as the recognized theological experts in 2:4, and “Pharisees” in association with Sadducees as members of a Jerusalem delegation in 3:7. This is the first time the two titles have occurred together, as they will most notably throughout ch. 23. The two groups together form the opposition to Jesus in 12:38; 15:1, but more often it will be Pharisees alone (or in conjunction with the Sadducees in 16:1–12) who fill this role, while scribes will eventually be noted as part of the Jerusalem coalition which plans and effects Jesus’ death (16:21; 20:18; 21:15; 26:57; 27:41). While there is considerable scholarly debate over the precise meaning of the terms,33 it is generally agreed that scribes were professional students and teachers of halakhah, the elucidation and practical application of law (“bureaucrats and experts on Jewish life,” Saldarini), while “Pharisee” was the title of a reformist movement or school within Judaism to which individuals voluntarily adhered, and which was devoted to the meticulous practice of the law, with special emphasis on such matters as ritual purity, tithing and sabbath observance. The two terms thus represent distinct categories, but in practice the aims and lifestyle of the two would coincide closely, with many professional scribes also being members of the Pharisaic movement.

The scribes and Pharisees would have approved of what Jesus has just said in vv. 18–19, except perhaps the note of eschatological fulfillment which underlies “until everything has taken place.” For them every detail of the law was precious, and the aim of their rapidly developing legal traditions in addition to the OT law was not to supplant it as a rule of life but to guide God’s people in observing its demands in more and more meticulous detail. 15:3–6 will show how in practice it could work the other way and ch. 23 will spell out many ways in which their zeal for legal correctness could prove misguided, but in their own intention and, as far as we can tell, in the eyes of the people at large, they were staunch defenders and eager exponents of the role of the law as a practical guide to holy living, and people respected them for it.

To speak of a “righteousness which goes far beyond that of the scribes and Pharisees” might therefore seem to be an impossible, even ridiculous, ideal. As long as “righteousness”34 is understood in terms of literal obedience to rules and regulations it would be hard to find anyone who attempted it more rigorously and more consistently than the scribes and Pharisees. The paradox of Jesus’ demand here makes sense only if their basic premise as to what “righteousness” consists of is put in question. Jesus is not talking about beating the scribes and Pharisees at their own game, but about a different level or concept of righteousness altogether. Ch. 23 will contain a series of illustrations of the inadequate principles of the scribes and Pharisees.

For all their scrupulous observance of OT (and other) regulations, the scribes and Pharisees are seen as standing still outside the kingdom of heaven. Within that new régime different standards apply. Those who are to belong to God’s new realm must move beyond literal observance of rules, however good and scriptural, to a new consciousness of what it means to please God, one which penetrates beneath the surface level of rules to be obeyed to a more radical openness to knowing and doing the underlying will of “your Father in heaven.” J. P. Meier describes Jesus’ demand as “a radical interiorization, a total obedience to God, a complete self-giving to neighbor, that carries the ethical thrust of the Law to its God-willed conclusion, even when this means in some cases abrogating the letter of the Law.”35 Only those who thus “go far beyond the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees” will be true subjects of God’s kingdom. Those who can do no more than simply keep the rules, however conscientiously, haven’t even started as far as the kingdom of heaven is concerned.36

Among the rich variety of language associated with the kingdom of heaven, the phrase “enter the kingdom of heaven,” which occurs again in 7:21; 18:3; 19:23–24; 23:13 (cf. 21:31), is the most strongly spatial metaphor. The understanding of “kingdom” as a dynamic term for God’s kingship (see on 3:2) requires that it be treated as what it is, a metaphor, rather than importing inappropriately concrete ideas of “place.” To enter the kingdom of heaven does not mean to go to a place called heaven (though the eternal life of heaven will be its expected outcome, see on 18:8–9),37 but to come under God’s rule, to become one of those who recognize his kingship and live by its standards, to be God’s true people.38

This lengthy attempt to unpack the significance of vv. 17–20 and to find a coherent ideology running through them may best be summed up in an expanded paraphrase:39

“Do not suppose that I came to undermine the authority of the OT scriptures, and in particular the law of Moses. I did not come to set them aside but to bring into reality that to which they pointed forward. I tell you truly: the law, down to its smallest details, is as permanent as heaven and earth and will never lose its significance; on the contrary, all that it points forward to will in fact become a reality (and is now doing so in my ministry). So anyone who treats even the most insignificant of the commandments of the law as of no value and teaches other people to belittle them is an unworthy representative of the new régime, while anyone who takes them seriously in word and deed will be a true member of God’s kingdom.

But do not imagine that simply keeping all those rules will bring salvation. For I tell you truly: it is only those whose righteousness of life goes far beyond the old policy of literal rule-keeping which the scribes and Pharisees represent who will prove to be God’s true people in this era of fulfillment.”

The division of this paraphrase into two paragraphs indicates what I take to be a significant shift of emphasis, taking the battle onto a different front. While vv. 17–19 have confronted those who are tempted to set the law aside, v. 20 confronts those who are so preoccupied with its literal observance that they miss the whole point of the fulfillment to which it is pointing. It is this latter emphasis which will determine the direction of vv. 21–48.

b. Fulfilling the Law: Six Examples (5:21–47)

21You have heard that it was said to people long ago, “You shall not murder,” and that40 anyone who committed murder should be liable to judgment. 22But I tell you that everyone who is angry with their brother or sister41 will be liable to judgment; whoever calls their brother or sister stupid42 will be liable to trial;43 and whoever calls them a fool will be liable to hell-fire.44 23So if you bring your offering to the altar, and there remember that your brother or sister has a complaint against you, 24leave your offering there in front of the altar and go first and make it up with your brother or sister, then come and make your offering. 25Get on good terms with your opponent quickly, while the two of you are still on the way; otherwise your opponent will hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the officer, and you will be thrown into prison; 26I tell you truly: you will not get out of there until you have repaid the last penny.45

27You have heard that it was said, “You shall not commit adultery.” 28But I tell you that every man who looks at someone else’s wife46 and wants to have sex with her47 has already committed adultery with her in his heart. 29But if your right eye causes you to stumble, tear it out and throw it away: you are better off losing one part of your body than having your whole body thrown into hell. 30And if your right hand causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away: you are better off losing one part of your body than having your whole body go to hell.

31It was said, “Anyone who divorces his wife must give her a divorce certificate.” 32But I tell you that everyone who divorces his wife for any reason except sexual unfaithfulness makes her the victim of adultery,48 and anyone who marries a divorced woman himself commits adultery.49 50

33Again you have heard that it was said to people long ago, “You shall not swear falsely,”51 and “You shall fulfill52 your oaths to the Lord.” 34But I tell you: do not swear at all, either by heaven (because it is God’s throne) 35or by the earth (because it is the footstool for his feet) or by53 Jerusalem (because it is the city of the great king); 36and do not swear by your own head, because you cannot make a single hair white or black. 37Rather let your words be simply “Yes” and “No;”54 anything more than that comes from evil.55

38You have heard that it was said, “Eye for eye and tooth for tooth.” 39But I tell you: do not resist a bad person, but instead if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn the other cheek to them as well; 40and if anyone wants to take you to court to get your shirt, let them have your coat as well; 41and if anyone dragoons you as a porter for one mile,56 go with them for two miles. 42Give to someone who asks you, and don’t turn a cold shoulder to someone who wants to borrow from you.

43You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbor and you shall hate your enemy.” 44But I tell you: love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,57 45so that you may be true children of your Father who is in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on both the bad and good and sends rain on both the just and unjust. 46If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Don’t even tax-collectors do as much? 47And if you welcome only those of your own circle,58 what is so special about that?59 Don’t even Gentiles60 do as much?

These six quite varied topics61 illustrate the concept of a righteousness which goes beyond the legal correctness of the scribes and Pharisees (v. 20).62 Each is presented in the form of a contrast (hence the frequent description of this section as “the antitheses”)63 between what “was said” and Jesus’ own more demanding ethic. So demanding are Jesus’ alternative rulings that those who fully grasp his intention often declare them to be unworkable in the real world. Even allowing for the element of exaggeration, and a tendency to speak in black and white with no allowance for gray, which characterized much of Jesus’ teaching, this section of the discourse poses formidable problems for those who wish to treat it as a straight-forward code of conduct. It is only the most sanguine of disciples (or those with little self-awareness) who can comfortably attempt simply to put into practice this teaching, with its culmination in the requirement that our lives should be “perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.” (v. 48)

The formula with which Jesus’ demand is made is unvarying: “But I tell you.” The other side of the contrast varies from the full formula “You have heard that it was said to people long ago” (vv. 21, 33) to the more abbreviated forms “You have heard that it was said” (vv. 27, 38, 43) and even simply “It was said” (v. 31). But there is no discernible difference in intention: the full formula, once introduced in v. 21, does not need to be repeated in order to make the same point. Two aspects of the wording of this formula are important. Firstly, “it was said” represents a relatively rare passive form of the verb, errhethē, which is used in the NT specifically for quotations of Scripture or divine pronouncements, the same form which I have translated “declared” in the quotation-formula of 1:22 etc.64 This is thus not a reference to human teaching but to divine declaration. Secondly, this declaration was made to65 “people long ago” (literally “the ancients”); the reference cannot then be to any contemporary or recent tradition. These features suggest strongly that in the first half of each contrast we should expect to find a quotation of the Mosaic law, as it would be heard read in the synagogues. And in fact in each case what is quoted is based on an identifiable passage or theme of the Pentateuch, though the form in which it is quoted is sometimes more paraphrase than exact citation, and in one case (v. 43) incorporates a supplementary clause which the pentateuchal passage does not contain.66

Is Jesus here then setting his teaching in opposition to the divine law, in direct contradiction to his claim in v. 17? Quite apart from the improbability of Matthew allowing his compilation to produce such a direct contradiction, two other factors suggest a different view. One is the peculiar nature of the “quotations” of the law. While the first two are straightforward quotations of two of the ten commandments (in the first case supplemented by an additional pentateuchal principle), the third is significantly different from the text of Deut 24:1 and is angled in a different direction from the Deuteronomy text, the fourth merely summarizes pentateuchal guidelines on oaths and vows, the fifth quotes the text exactly but the discussion suggests that it was being quoted for a purpose other than that of the original in context, and the non-pentateuchal addition to the sixth places a negative “spin” on the commandment of Lev 19:18 which that passage in no way supports. The comments below will fill out each of these points, but the general impression they create is that Jesus is here presented as citing a series of “legal” principles based indeed on the pentateuchal laws but in several cases significantly developing and indeed distorting their intention. In other words the dialog partner is not the OT law as such but the OT law as currently (and sometimes misleadingly) understood and applied.

The second factor which suggests that this is not a simple contradiction of the OT law is the wording of the formula of quotation, “you have heard … ,” “but I say ….” David Daube67 has suggestively compared a rabbinic convention whereby what is “heard” is set over against what you must “say,” where the contrast is between a literal but inadequate understanding of the OT text and a more enlightened, though possibly more creative, interpretation which is thus recommended as superior. What Jesus says (“But I tell you”) is thus contrasted with what the disciples have hitherto heard, a superficial and potentially misleading reading of the OT texts as rules of conduct, whereas Jesus is now going to indicate the right (and deeper) interpretation and use of those same God-given texts.

The way in which Jesus’ new reading of the OT laws differs from and goes beyond current understanding varies from one example to another.68 In the first two examples (murder and adultery), while there is no suggestion that the literal ethical ruling is set aside, Jesus goes far beyond its outward observance (which can be observed and judged) to the thoughts and attitudes which underlie the action, whether they are carried into effect or not. In the third and fourth examples (divorce and swearing) Jesus declares that the actions which the OT law presupposes and for which it provides regulation should never have occurred in the first place; where the law recognized and attempted to mitigate human failure to maintain the standard of life God requires (marital fidelity and truthfulness), Jesus goes to the root of the issue and challenges the initial actions themselves. In the fifth example (retributive punishment) an OT judicial ruling is stated to be inapplicable to personal ethics, to which it was presumably being applied by Jesus’ contemporaries as a justification for retaliatory action; in its place Jesus declares a principle of non-resistance which leaves no room for the calculation of proportionate retribution. In the sixth example Jesus extends the principle of love far beyond the explicit purview of the OT law and in direct contradiction of what was presumably a contemporary “corollary” from the love of neighbors, the hatred of non-neighbors.

If there is a common pattern to these varied examples of “going beyond” both the OT law and the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, it might be characterized in a number of ways. (1) It promotes an “inward” concern with motive and attitude above the “outward” focus on the visible and quantifiable observance of regulations. (2) It goes behind specific rules to look for the more far-reaching principles which should govern the conduct of the people of God. (3) It is concerned not so much with the negative goal of the avoidance of specific sin but with the far more demanding positive goal of discovering and following what is really the will of God for his people. (4) It substitutes for what is in principle a 100% achievable righteousness (the avoidance of breaking a definable set of regulations) a totally open-ended ideal (being “perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect”) which will always remain beyond the grasp of the most committed disciple. Such a radically searching reading of the will of God in the light of the OT law establishes a righteousness of the kingdom of heaven which is in a different league altogether from the righteousness of the scribes and the Pharisees—and of any other religious traditions which understand the will of God in terms of the punctilious observance of rules.69

What then happens to the jots and tittles of the OT law? They are taken up into a far more demanding “fulfillment” which leaves some of them on one side as having no role in the true life of the kingdom of heaven. This applies to the regulations for divorce, when divorce itself does not happen; the rules for oaths, when swearing is itself ruled out; the judicial limitation of retribution, when not only retaliation but even resistance is declared unworthy of the kingdom of heaven. Is this then after all to “abolish” them as v. 17 declared Jesus would not do? Rather it is to bypass them, to leave them behind as no longer needed when the life of the kingdom of heaven is fully implemented.70 In the real world it may be that there will still be divorce, untruthfulness and judicial retribution, and for these purposes the regulations of the OT law may retain a practical role. But in so far as they are needed, that is a mark of the failure of the more radical ethic which Jesus here sets out. When people live according to the principles of the kingdom of heaven, those jots and tittles are no longer needed. They remain, no doubt, as part of the God-given revelation of the law which points forward to a better way, and in that sense are not abolished. But the disciple should now have moved beyond them under the guidance of the Messiah in whom that fulfillment has come. His sovereign pronouncement, “I tell you” is not a contribution to exegetical debate, but stands alongside the law on which it is based as a definitive declaration of the divine purpose.71 As such it provokes the question “Who is this?”72 and Matthew’s comment at 7:28–29 rightly characterizes the impact of the discourse as a whole as one of unparalleled messianic authority.73

(1) Murder (5:21–26)

Jesus’ radical interpretation of the sixth commandment (and of the death penalty for murder which is its OT corollary) is stated in the three sharply paradoxical statements of v. 22. The remainder of this paragraph consists of what appear to have been two originally independent sayings (vv. 23–24 and 25–26; note the change to second person singular) concerned with repairing broken relationships, which offer a positive counterpart to the negative verdicts of v. 22.

The principle of v. 22 is that the actual committing of murder is only the outward manifestation of an inward attitude which is itself culpable, whether or not it actually issues in the act of murder.74 Angry thoughts and contemptuous words (which equally derive from “the heart,” 12:34) deserve equal judgment; indeed the “hell-fire” with which the saying concludes goes far beyond the human death penalty which the OT law envisaged. Jesus in no way sets aside the simple correlation of the observable act of murder and its humanly imposed penalty—our modern questions concerning the appropriateness of capital punishment for murder are not raised—but adds a far-reaching new dimension by turning attention also to the motives and attitudes which underlie the act, and which are not susceptible to judicial process. No one can testify to the anger itself, only to its physical or verbal expression, and the everyday insults of “stupid” and “fool” do not provide the matter for court proceedings.75 But, in the words of 1 Sam 16:7, “The Lord looks on the heart,” and in his court its thoughts are no less culpable than the act itself. A similar view is attributed to R. Eliezer ben Hyrcanus (c. A.D. 100): “One who hates his neighbor is among those who shed blood.” (Der. Er. Rab. 57b [11:13]) Cf. the tannaitic principle in b. Bab. Meṣ. 58b, “Anyone who publicly shames a neighbor is as though he shed blood,” with the following comment of R. Hanina that such people will not escape from Gehenna. Cf. 1 John 3:15.76

21 The direct quotation of one of the ten commandments leaves no doubt as to who were the “people long ago” to whom “it was said.” Jesus is going to the heart of the Mosaic law itself. The LXX wording of Exod 20:13; Deut 5:18 correctly uses phoneuō, which like the Hebrew rāṣaḥ refers specifically to “murder,” the intentional and unlawful taking of life, rather than a more general word for “kill.”77 The following clause does not cite a specific text, but summarizes the OT prescription of the death penalty for murder, as expressed e.g. in Gen 9:6; Exod 21:12–14; Lev 24:17; Num 35:30–31. The use of “judgment” rather than a specific term for execution is perhaps intended to emphasize that the killing of a murderer was not to be through an unofficial blood-feud but through due process of law;78 but the OT allows no doubt over what form that “judgment” must take.

22 The “brother or sister”79 (adelphos) of vv. 22–24 is probably to be understood as a fellow-disciple rather than a literal family member;80 a similar concern with good relationships among fellow-disciples will be the theme of the fourth discourse in ch. 18, where the term adelphos will recur in 18:15, 21, 35; cf. 12:46–50 for the concept of Jesus’ “family” of disciples. It would, however, be pedantic to suggest that Jesus’ ruling applies only to relations with fellow-disciples and not to people in general; vv. 44–47 suggest otherwise.

It is possible to find an ascending scale of severity in the descriptions of the punishment in this verse, from an unspecified “judgment” to the more specific “trial”81 and then to the final extreme of “hell-fire.” Certainly the most striking and powerful image is kept to the last. But there is no such clear escalation in the offences cited.82 The first (anger) is in the mind and the second and third in speech, but the speech is cited not so much as a clearly actionable utterance but rather as an indication of attitude. The two words of abuse, “stupid”83 and “fool”84 (the latter used by Jesus himself in 23:17),85 are not readily distinguishable in either meaning or severity; both are everyday utterances, significant enough in a society which took seriously public honor and disgrace, but not the sort of exceptional abuse which might conceivably form the basis of litigation The deliberate paradox of Jesus’ pronouncement is thus that ordinary insults may betray an attitude of contempt which God takes extremely seriously. The effect of the saying is therefore to be found not in a careful correlation between each offence individually and the respective punishment assigned to it, but in the cumulative rhetorical force of a series of everyday scenes and the remarkable range of expressions used for their results; the totally unexpected conclusion in “hell-fire” comes as a shocking jolt to the complacency of the hearer, who might well have chuckled over the incongruous image of a person being tried for anger or for conventional insult, only to be pulled up short by the saying’s conclusion.86

“Hell” (geënna) will be referred to again in 5:29–30; 10:28; 18:9; 23:15, 33 as the place of final destruction of the wicked; its use in this sense is well-attested in Jewish apocalyptic literature. It is not the same as Hades, the place of the dead, which is not usually understood as a place of punishment or destruction but rather of shadowy existence. The name geënna derives from the Valley of Hinnom (Hebrew gê hinnōm) outside Jerusalem which had once been the site of human sacrifice by fire to Molech, 2 Kgs 23:10; Jer 7:31. There is a later tradition that the city’s rubbish was dumped and burned in this valley, which if true87 would provide a vivid image of “the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.” (25:41) see on 25:46 for the nature of the “eternal punishment” envisaged. To invoke this awesome concept in relation to the use of an everyday abusive epithet is the sort of paradoxical exaggeration by which Jesus’ sayings often compel the reader’s attention; contrast 1QS 6:25–7:9, where abusive language and attitude are punished by a graded range of periods of exclusion from the assembly.

23–24 The change from second person plural to second person singular for vv. 23–26 (as also in vv. 29–30, 36, 39b-42) indicates that these are individualized illustrations of the general principle just enunciated. Verses 23–24 and 25–26 are in effect two little parables about reconciliation. The saying in vv. 23–24, while quite different in form, conveys a message similar to Mark 11:25, “When you stand praying, if you have anything against anyone, forgive it.”88 Cf. also the comment on the Lord’s Prayer in 6:14–15. But here the situation envisaged is not prayer in general but the more specific and relatively rare experience of making an offering in the temple. The only “altar” at which an offering could be made was that of the temple in Jerusalem.89 This saying, presumably uttered in Galilee, thus envisages a worshipper who has traveled some eighty miles to Jerusalem with his “offering” (probably a sacrificial animal), who then leaves the animal in the temple while he makes a journey of a week or more to Galilee and back again in order to effect a reconciliation with his offended brother or sister before he dares to present his offering. The improbability of the scenario emphasizes Jesus’ point, that the importance of right relationships demands decisive action.90 This, then, is the positive counterpart to the anger and abuse condemned in v. 22. It puts in the form of a vivid practical example the principle which Paul lays down in Eph 4:26: “Do not let the sun go down on your anger.”

25–26 This is another illustration of the importance of reconciliation, set in a different and more threatening scenario. In the preceding saying the disciple is seen as freely taking the initiative to effect a reconciliation. Here he is under duress. The “opponent” is apparently a legal plaintiff who has a case likely to lead to the disciple’s conviction, probably for debt. A settlement out of court is a more prudent option, and the prospect of imprisonment until the debt has been cleared provides a compelling incentive. This little cameo is designed, like many parables, not to give practical advice for legal disputes (no indication is given as to what sort of settlement might be possible if the money is not available) but simply to reinforce an ethical message: do not allow bad relationships to remain unresolved. It is linked with vv. 21–22 by the theme of good relationships rather than bad, though the prudential focus of the parable-story sounds almost banal by comparison. But the inclusion of “I tell you truly” (see on 5:18) alerts us to a more ultimate purpose than merely avoiding imprisonment; like the other parable of debt and imprisonment (18:23–35) it is a pointer to the divine judgment on those whose earthly relationships do not conform to the values of the kingdom of heaven. Luke similarly sets his parallel to this saying (Luke 12:58–59) in a context of eschatological readiness.91

(2) Adultery (5:27–30)

The basic treatment of the seventh commandment in vv. 27–28 is in principle the same as that of the sixth in vv. 21–22; the visible and punishable act forbidden by the commandment is only the outward expression of an inward desire which is, in this case, adultery “in the heart”—and presumably therefore liable to the same punishment, though in this case neither the OT quotation nor Jesus’ interpretation refers explicitly to the punishment (which in the case of adultery was also death). Here too an originally independent saying of Jesus (again changing to the second person singular) is added in vv. 29–30 to reinforce the seriousness of the warning. This additional saying will reappear in a fuller form in 18:8–9, where it is parallel to a rather longer version in Mark 9:43–48. In this additional saying the punishment of geënna is again explicit, as in 5:22.

27–28 The commandment is again quoted verbatim from LXX Exod 20:13; Deut 5:17. It is concerned specifically with a man who has sexual relations with another man’s wife. The “woman” in Jesus’ declaration is thus to be understood also as another man’s wife (see p. 192, n. 46), and the looking “in order to desire her” (literally) specifically of wanting (and planning?) sexual relations (hence my translation “wants to have sex with her” above). The focus is thus not (as some tender adolescent consciences have read it) on sexual attraction as such, but on the desire for (and perhaps the planning of) an illicit sexual liaison (cf. Exod 20:17, “you shall not covet your neighbor’s … wife,” where LXX uses the same verb, epithymeō).92 The famous sin of David (2 Sam 11:2–4), where such a desire led not only to adultery but also to murder, would naturally come to mind as a lurid scriptural example. The danger of looking lustfully at women is the subject of many Jewish sayings (e.g. Job 31:1, 9; Prov 6:25; Sir 9:5, 8; T. Benj. 8:2) and the idea that the desire is tantamount to the deed is hinted at in e.g. T. Reu. 5:6; T. Iss. 7:2 and is explicit in the extracanonical tractate Kallah 7 (“whoever gazes intentionally at a woman is as though he had intercourse with her”); according to b. Yoma 29a it is even worse.93

29–30 As in vv. 23–26 second person singular illustrations reinforce the radical implications of Jesus’ interpretation of the law, and as in v. 22 he exaggerates to make his point, this time by the use of a shocking but well-recognized metaphor94 of self-mutilation.95 In its Marcan context (Mark 9:43–48) and in its fuller Matthean use (18:8–9) this metaphor does not have a specific reference to sexual desire. It may be the need to fit it to this more specific purpose that has led Matthew this time to put the eye first (following the lustful “look” of v. 28), and to omit the foot as an offending member, since “the feet are not much used in adultery”!96 The other notable difference in this form of the saying is the specification of the right eye and the right hand. The latter strengthens the impact of the saying in that the right hand is assumed to be of greater value and usefulness, but the right eye is not obviously more important that the left.97 We shall note a particular contextual reason for specifying the right cheek in v. 39, but here the right eye is probably singled out to provide a literary balance to the right hand. For poetical uses of parts of the body to represent sins see Job 31:1, 5, 7; Prov 6:16–19.

To “cause to stumble” (skandalizō) is a recurrent metaphor in Matthew; see 11:6; 13:21, 41, 53; 15:12; 16:23; 17:27; 18:6–7, 8–9; 24:10; 26:31–33. In some of these cases the passive denotes “being offended” by a person’s behaviour or teaching (11:6; 13:57; 15:12; 17:27), a relatively mild sense of the verb. But often it denotes something more catastrophic, a stumbling which deflects a person from the path of God’s will and salvation (13:21; 18:6; 24:10; 26:31–33), and a “stumbling-block” is a person or thing which gets in the way of God’s saving purpose (13:41; 16:23; 18:7). In the case of the disciples’ stumbling in Gethsemane (26:31–33) the effect was not terminal, but here and in 18:8–9 (and by implication in 13:21) the stumbling involves the final loss of salvation (geënna); cf the drastic penalty appropriate to one who causes stumbling in 18:6–7. The term therefore goes beyond a mere pictorial image of physical mishap—which in any case would not follow easily from the action of the hand, though rather more appropriately from the eye. The theme is impediments to ultimate salvation, and the importance of eliminating them at all costs, a theme which could have many different applications to relationships, activities, mental attitudes etc., certainly not only to sexual temptation. It is probably not helpful to speculate whether the eye and the hand were chosen to represent specific sins or temptations. As “removable” parts of the body they serve to make the point that any loss, however painful, is preferable to the total lostness of geënna. The throwing of the “whole body” into hell belongs to the pictorial imagery as the alternative to physical amputation; it is not the basis for a doctrinal debate over either the nature of human existence after death or the physicality of hell. Nor should this passage be used to suggest that amputees will be raised in an imperfect body.

(3) Divorce (5:31–32)

This very brief statement on divorce poses a problem for the commentator, in that a fuller discussion of the issue, explaining Jesus’ opposition to the principle of divorce, will occur later in 19:3–12, but since many of the same questions arise in both passages it seems better to deal with the issue more generally here, and to ask the reader of the commentary at 19:3–12 to refer back to this section.

The third example of Jesus’ new interpretation of the law follows from the second in that it is also concerned with sexual ethics, and more specifically marriage, and in that it also speaks of “adultery,” but in other ways it is very different. Not only are there no supporting sayings as in vv. 23–26 and 29–30, but the debate concerns not one of the ten commandments but a single piece of regulatory law which occurs in Deut 24:1–4. This, the only pentateuchal passage which directly speaks of divorce, served perforce as the basis for subsequent Jewish teaching on the subject, even though it was not concerned with the rightness or wrongness of divorce in itself, nor with permissible causes of divorce, but only with the aftermath of a divorce which is assumed to have taken place. The “quotation” which provides the first half of the contrast is not in fact a direct quotation of the Deuteronomy text, but an inference from it, in that Deut 24:1 does not instruct the divorcing husband to provide a certificate, but rather states that if this has in fact occurred, certain consequences follow: the divorced wife, having married another man and been divorced also by him (or if he has died), may not then be taken back by her first husband. This rather tortuous scenario assumes that both husbands in the case have the right to divorce the woman, but the basis of that right (and of the certificate which is the specific focus of Jesus’ “quotation”) is not spelled out either here or anywhere else in the OT. That assumption is taken by Jesus’ questioners in 19:7 to mean that Moses “commanded” not only the certificate but also the divorce itself. On this basis subsequent Jewish teaching developed a detailed body of legal teaching on divorce; a whole tractate of the Mishnah, Giṭṭin, is devoted to provisions for a valid divorce certificate. Divorce was, of course,98 purely a male prerogative, which required no legal hearing, merely the husband’s decision; Jewish law made no provision for a woman to initiate divorce (Josephus, Ant. 15.259).99

The main area of rabbinic dispute was not the legitimacy of divorce in itself, which everyone seems to have taken for granted,100 but the permissible grounds of divorce, and here Deut 24:1–4 provided fruitful material for debate, since the first husband’s decision is said to be based on his finding “something shameful”101 in the woman, while the second husband is simply said to have “disliked” her (śānāʾ, a quite general word for “hate”). On this basis rabbinic teaching, as set out in m. Giṭ. 9:10, ranged from the “hard-line” position of Shammai that only “unchastity” was a valid ground for divorce to the “liberal” position of Hillel which allowed a man to divorce his wife for such a trivial offense as spoiling a meal, or even (according to R. Akiba) simply because he had found someone he preferred (cf. the “hate” of Deut 24:3?).102 In practice it seems clear that it was the Hillelite position which prevailed among most Jews, of whom Josephus’ laconic comment is probably typical: “At this time I sent away my wife, being displeased with her behavior…. Then I took as wife a woman from Crete ….” (Life 426–427) In commenting on Moses’ legislation in Deut 24:1–4 Josephus adds a significant aside: “The man who wishes to be divorced from his wife for whatever cause—and among people many such may arise—must certify in writing ….” (Ant. 4.253) Cf. Sir 25:26: “If she does not accept your control, divorce her and send her away” (NEB; literally “cut her off from your flesh”).103

We shall return to this question in 19:3, where Jesus is asked specifically about the permissible grounds of divorce. Here, however, he raises the issue not to discuss the grounds (though his phrase “except for sexual unfaithfulness” inevitably raises that question for us) but in order to query the assumption that any divorce could be acceptable in the first place. He does not comment on the aftermath of divorce which was the focus of the pentateuchal text, but sweeps its trouble-shooting provisions aside with the assertion that the original divorce itself was not permissible. We shall note below the question whether the provisions of Deut 24:1–4 retain any practical relevance in an unideal world where divorce does in fact happen, but that discussion falls outside the scope of Jesus’ teaching both here and in 19:3–12 where the issue is more fully addressed. His concern, which will be explicitly set out in 19:4–8, is with getting back to first principles, to God’s original intention for marriage, not as in Deut 24:1–4 with regulating what follows after those principles have already been broken. His quarrel with current ethical teaching is that it is basing its standards on an assumption of failure (Moses’ provision only for “your hard-heartedness,” 19:8) rather than on God’s original purpose for marriage.

Jesus’ teaching on divorce in Mark 10:2–12 and Luke 16:18 (cf. also 1 Cor 7:10–11) is clear-cut; divorce is simply forbidden. Matthew, both here and in 19:9, apparently blurs the stark opposition between Jesus’ teaching and that of all Jewish tradition by inserting the clause parektos logou porneias (19:9, mē epi porneia) which appears to allow a single cause for divorce, porneia, which I have translated “sexual unfaithfulness.”104 The noun more strictly refers to relations with a prostitute (traditionally “fornication”), but its usage was wider, covering various kinds of sexual irregularity. Here as applied to a married woman it most likely applies either to adultery or to the discovery of pre-marital intercourse with someone other than the husband,105 or more likely to either or both.106 It is clearly used for adultery in Sir 23:23; Herm. Mand. 4.1.5 (cf. T. Jos. 3:8).107 Since this was probably the primary108 meaning of the “unchastity” which for Shammai also constituted the sole ground for divorce, Matthew’s Jesus thus appears to hold a Shammaite position—though a particularly strict one, in that his term porneia is more clearly limited to actual sexual misconduct than the wider range of immodest acts which some Shammaites included in “unchastity.”109 The phrase logos porneias in the exceptive clause here is probably intended to recall110 the ʿerwat-dābār of Deut 24:1,111 which was also the basis of the Shammaite position.112

If Mark and Luke preserve Jesus’ actual teaching on divorce, Matthew’s version, even if close to the “hard-line” Shammaite position, would seem to represent a substantial softening of the radicalism of Jesus’ total prohibition of divorce. It is often assumed that this represents the beginning of a process of pragmatic adaptation by a church which found Jesus’ absolute ethic unworkable in practice, an adaptation which in many modern Christian circles has resulted in something like a Hillelite liberalism. But it may be worth enquiring how far Matthew would in fact have understood himself to be differing from the total prohibition of divorce in Mark and Luke. The concept of man and wife as “one flesh” which will be the basis of Jesus’ rejection of divorce in 19:4–9 stands in tension with the fact that an act of adultery sets up a “one-flesh” relationship with a different person.113 In Jewish thought this second “one-flesh” union was understood to violate the original one so radically that the subsequent continuation of the original marriage was unthinkable; it was officially dissolved (m.Yebam. 2:8; cf. Soṭah 5:1; Ketub. 3:5).114 In the OT the marriage was terminated by the death penalty for adultery, but by Jesus’ time the death penalty was not normally imposed; instead the marriage was legally dissolved. The termination of a marriage already destroyed by the act of adultery was thus not so much “divorce” (a man’s voluntary repudiation of his wife) as the necessary recognition that the original marriage no longer existed, that a new “one-flesh” union was already a fait accompli. Joseph’s dilemma in 1:18–19, for instance, was not over whether to repudiate Mary or not, but only over whether this duty should be carried out publicly or privately; until otherwise directed by the angel it did not occur to him that the betrothal (and the marriage to which it must otherwise lead) could be regarded as still valid. Against such a background it can be argued that when in Mark and Luke Jesus forbids divorce tout simple this is understood to mean the voluntary breaking of a marriage which is hitherto intact, it being assumed that in the case of porneia by the wife the marriage was already destroyed and could not be allowed to continue. On that view, Matthew is merely making explicit what was assumed by Mark and Luke to be already obvious to their readers.

This interpretation perhaps gains support from the way the prohibition of divorce is here expressed, as the initiation of adultery. With regard to the woman, it makes her the victim of adultery,115 either in that the husband’s repudiation of a marriage which is intact is itself equated with an act of adultery (since adultery destroys a marriage), or in that when she subsequently remarries (as is provided for in the divorce certificate and is assumed as the sequel to her divorce) she will be placed by her husband’s act in an adulterous relationship, since the original marriage remains valid in the sight of God. So both the divorced wife (the victim of the first husband’s unjust act) and her subsequent husband are involved in an act of adultery—and thus in breaking the seventh commandment, which in its OT context carried the death penalty. Moreover, to terminate a marriage where adultery has not in fact occurred is to treat the repudiated wife as if she had herself committed adultery (after which annulment of the marriage would have been automatic); to thus brand her unjustly as an adulteress may also be part of what is meant by to “make her the victim of adultery.” 19:9 will add that if the original husband remarries he too is committing adultery.116

Modern discussions of divorce in the light of Jesus’ teaching sometimes suggest that Jesus recognized the necessity of divorce after adultery, but forbade remarriage.117 But such a view does not fit the Jewish context, where divorce consisted of the provision of a certificate which explicitly granted the right to remarry: the standard wording according to m. Giṭ. 9:3 was “You are free to marry any man.” Without that permission it was not divorce. Divorce and the right to remarry are thus inseparable, and the Jewish world knew nothing of a legal separation which did not allow remarriage.118 There is nothing in Jesus’ words, here or in the Mark and Luke parallels, to suggest that he intended to initiate any such provision. His condemnation of remarriage as adultery is simply on the grounds that the divorce (unless for adultery) was not legitimate and so the original marriage remains valid in the sight of God.

What effect then does Jesus’ new teaching have on the understanding of Deut 24:1–4? Ideally it makes it obsolete, if God’s purpose for marriage is truly honored, since the prior divorce for which it legislates will not in fact occur in the ethics of the kingdom of heaven. In opposing current divorce legislation Jesus is rescuing Deut. 24:1–4 from misuse for a purpose for which it was never intended. It was not meant to provide a positive basis for the ethics of God’s people, but only a trouble-shooting provision in case things went wrong. In 19:4–5 he will ground his positive understanding of marriage on a different pentateuchal source, and if that prior principle is observed there will be no divorce and therefore no use for the remedial legislation of Deut 24:1–4.

But Matthew’s version of the saying, by specifying the possibility of porneia and therefore of the ending of a marriage otherwise than by death, at least entertains the possibility of a world in which God’s ideal is not always met. In such a world the very undeveloped damage-limitation provisions of Deut 24:1–4 may continue to have a place, and indeed it may be necessary, as the rabbis had already found, for such contingent legislation to develop over a much wider front. That is what has happened ever since, and still continues with our divorce laws today. Such laws have their place in a well-ordered society, but they cannot claim to have the direct sanction of Jesus, and can only claim to fall within the spirit of his teaching if it is their aim not to accept and accommodate human “hardness of heart” but rather to uphold the standard of unbroken, life-long marriage which God designed and to oppose the human tendency to make it easier to “separate what God has joined together.” (19:6)

(4) Swearing (5:33–37)

While the subject is completely different, the principle by which Jesus responds to “what was said” in this case is very similar to that of vv. 31–32. A law which aims to control human failure (in vv. 31–32 the destruction of marriage, here the unreliability of people’s word, even under oath) is set aside in favor of a bold reassertion of the way God intended things to be, lifelong faithfulness in marriage and simple truthfulness in speech without the need for oaths to undergird it. In each case the laws quoted may still have a trouble-shooting function, but they are being misused if they are made the basis of ethical thinking. The kingdom of heaven operates on a more radical level of essential righteousness. In thus going back to first principles Jesus leaves the remedial legislation of the Torah on one side, not so much abrogated as declared unnecessary where the greater righteousness of the kingdom of heaven obtains.

Two different but related subjects are at issue here. Oaths,119 invocations of God or of some sacred object to undergird a statement or promise, shade into vows, solemn promises to God of an action to be performed. The OT passages summed up in v. 33 apparently relate to both issues, though Jesus’ response focuses on the use of oaths to support one’s word rather than on vows (he will touch on the latter question in 15:3–6). His simple command not to use oaths at all (v. 34a) is illustrated by a number of possible oaths each of which is shown to be inappropriate (vv. 34b-36), and explained in the pronouncement of v. 37 that any elaboration of a simple affirmation or denial is “from evil.” Since the OT law not only provided for but in some cases demanded such elaborating oaths (e.g. Num 5:19–22), there is a prima facie case to be made that Jesus is here opposing the intention of one aspect of the law. At least he is doing what he did in v. 32, declaring that these provisions should never have been needed if people practised the uncomplicated truthfulness which is what God desires.120

33 The repetition of the full “quotation” formula from v. 21, with the addition this time of “again,” is often taken to indicate that Matthew understands the series of six contrasts as falling into two equal parts. From a literary point of view that may be so, but it is not easy to see any difference in principle between the first three and the last three,121 and the close similarity in principle between the third and the fourth which we have just noted cautions us against reading too much into this “new beginning.”

The words quoted are again not an exact citation: this time they represent the gist of a number of passages in the law and elsewhere in the OT which require oaths and/or vows to be taken seriously. “You shall not swear falsely”122 probably represents the prohibition on false swearing in Lev 19:12 (cf. Lev 6:3–5; Ps 24:4), while the command to “repay” your oaths reflects a recurrent OT theme that vows must be carried out, exemplified in Num 30:2; Deut 23:21–23; Ps 50:14; Qoh 5:4.123 Vows were undertaken voluntarily, but once undertaken they were binding. Since the first two contrasts have involved two of the ten commandments, it is possible that the prohibition of false swearing here is meant to echo either the ninth commandment concerning bearing false witness (though there is no verbal echo since Exod 20:16 does not mention an oath) or the third concerning misusing God’s name, of which a false oath would be a specific instance (though again not specified in Exod 20:7).

34a Jesus’ prohibition of all swearing (its comprehensiveness is indicated by the emphatic holōs, “at all”) will be explained in principle in v. 37. With regard to vows, which were voluntary, Jesus is not so much opposing OT legislation as telling his disciples not to take up an option which the law offered but did not require. His words recall the comment of Deut 23:22 that while vows once undertaken must be fulfilled (vv. 21, 23) if you do not make a vow at all “there will be no sin in you.” Oaths too could be voluntary (Lev 5:4; Num 30:3–15), and such oaths are found frequently throughout the OT history, but there were also occasions when the law required an oath (Exod 22:11; Num 5:19–22; cf. the general expectation that oaths will be taken in Yahweh’s name, without specific context, in Deut 6:13; 10:20), and these too are swept aside by Jesus’ blanket prohibition if it is taken as a literal regulation.124

34b-36 The general principle that disciples should not take oaths is now illustrated by series of examples of specific oaths which are inappropriate. Cf. 23:16–22 for a similar discussion of oaths. Oaths normally invoked God as the guarantor of the person’s word, and it was this which made it so serious a matter to break them: it was a misuse of God’s name (Exod 20:7), a profanation (Lev 19:12). In response some Jews had already developed the habit, which underlies much of our “social swearing” today, of finding more innocuous substitutes for the actual name of God; here Jesus lists oaths by heaven, earth, Jerusalem and one’s own head, while in 23:16–22 he will add a further list (the temple, the gold of the temple, the altar and the gift on the altar). Such casuistry, of which the Mishnah provides numerous examples,125 receives very short shrift, since heaven, earth and Jerusalem are inseparably linked with God as his dwelling and possession; the point is made by allusions to Is 66:1 (“Heaven is my throne and the earth is my footstool”) and Ps 48:2 (“Mount Zion, the city of the great King”). The oath by one’s head126 might have been given parallel treatment, since the head too is God’s creation, but the point is made more obliquely by pointing out that you have no power over your own head; the implication is that it is God, not you, who determines the color of your hair (some early patristic interpreters took this verse as a ruling against the use of hair-dye!), since he is its creator and sustainer. All such surrogate oaths display not reverence but theological superficiality.

37 Jesus’ prohibition of swearing is based on the assumption that God requires truthfulness. A simple Yes or No should be all that is needed.127 As soon as it is necessary to bolster it with an oath in order to persuade others to believe what is said, the ideal of transparent truthfulness has been compromised.128 The need for such an addition is “from evil:”129 it betrays our failure to live up to God’s standard of truthfulness. The option of translating “from the Evil One” (see p. 193, n. 55) would not essentially change the sense: whether the moral failure is blamed on an abstract principle of “evil” or on the personal intervention of the devil (the “father of lies,” John 8:44) does not affect its evil character. The context here gives us no obvious reason for preferring the personal to the abstract sense.

The majority of references to oaths in the OT, especially in the book of Deuteronomy, are to God’s oath by which he has committed himself to bless his people under his covenant with their ancestors. Is God’s oath then also “from evil”? In one sense it is, in that if people were prepared to trust God’s simple word there would be no need for an oath. But in so far as God’s oath is a powerful statement of his own dependability (“By myself I have sworn, says the Lord”) it differs from human oaths which attempt to enlist God in support of their less dependable words.

A more pertinent question for us is whether Jesus’ words here are intended as a literal regulation for all human circumstances, including oaths of political allegiance or the oath required in many courts of law: should Christians refuse to take such oaths?130 The issue is similar to that with regard to divorce: Jesus’ absolute pronouncement sets out the true will of God, but in human life that will is not always followed, and there is still a place for legal oaths (as for divorce regulations) to cope with the actual untruthfulness of people, even sadly sometimes of disciples. They should not be needed, but in practice they serve a remedial purpose in a world where the ethics of the kingdom of heaven are not always followed. Refusal to take a required oath can in such circumstances convey quite the wrong impression. Jesus’ illustrations of the “greater righteousness” are not to be treated as if they were a new set of literal regulations to replace those of the scribes and Pharisees. For Jesus’ own response when “put on oath” by the high priest see below on 26:63–64, and for other NT oaths cf. 2 Cor 1:23; Gal 1:20; 1 Thess 5:27.131

(5) Retribution (5:38–42)

Here Jesus’ teaching moves even further away from the spirit of the OT law quoted than in any of the previous examples. The law of Moses, like other ancient (and modern) law codes, regulated the extent of retributive punishment. The principle of retribution was accepted, but it must be proportionate to the offence: one eye in retribution for an eye destroyed, one tooth for a tooth (see comments below on how far this was understood and implemented literally). That seems to be the main thrust of the words quoted. They provide guidance in sentencing for those responsible for trying a case of physical assault.

In response Jesus does not comment on the appropriateness of such judicial rules. His concern is only with the inappropriateness of such a formula to personal ethics. Applied to that context it becomes a justification for “getting your own back,” and thus ultimately for the relentless perpetuation of the traditional bloodfeud with no hope of escaping the cycle of reciprocal violence—which is still sadly evident in many cultures, not least in the Middle East today. Jesus’ position is shockingly radical: not only no retaliation, but even no resistance to one who is admittedly “bad.” The series of four personal examples which make up vv. 39b-42, and which are partially paralleled in Luke 6:29–30,132 illustrate the principle of not even standing up for one’s own rights (three of the four examples involve legal principles), of not defending one’s own honor,133 of allowing others to take advantage They portray an unselfish and uncalculating benevolence which thinks only of the other’s needs or desires, not of protecting one’s own resources or even one’s honor. Those who have understood the true thrust of Jesus’ teaching here have often declared it to be not only extreme and unwelcome, but also practically unworkable in the real world. You cannot live like this. It would be to encourage the unscrupulous and the feckless and so to undermine the proper ordering of society.

Here more than anywhere in this section we need to remind ourselves that Jesus’ aim is not to establish a new and more demanding set of rules to supplant those of the scribes and Pharisees. It is to establish a “greater righteousness,” a different understanding of how we should live as the people of God, an alternative set of values.134 In place of the principle of retribution he sets non-resistance; in place of the defence of legal rights he sets uncalculating generosity; in place of concern for oneself he sets concern for the other. The disciple may be forced to conclude that in an imperfect human society Jesus’ illustrations of these principles could not work as literal rules of conduct, that unlimited generosity to beggars would not only undermine the economic order but also in the end do no good to the beggars themselves. But instead of therefore dismissing Jesus’ teaching as starry-eyed utopianism, a proper response to this challenging section is to ask in what practical ways Jesus’ radical principles can be set to work in our very different world. Our answers will vary, but if they are true to Jesus’ teaching they will represent an essentially non-self-centered approach to ethics which puts the interests of the other before personal rights or convenience. We should note also, however, that a willingness to forgo one’s own rights and even to allow oneself to be insulted and imposed on is not incompatible with a firm stand for justice in principle and for the rights of others.

Does this teaching contradict or abrogate the law? Rather, in so far as “an eye for an eye” had come to be used to justify personal retaliation, it is simply declared to be irrelevant to personal ethics. The principle of proportionate retribution should not guide us in our relations with others. But then that was not its intention: it was a judicial guideline, not a license to get one’s own back. In its place Jesus sets an ethical approach which simply sets aside legal considerations and goes far beyond anything the law, as law, either did or could promote. The “fulfillment” of the law (v. 17) here consists in leaving it behind in favor of something of a different order altogether, the righteousness of the kingdom of heaven. But, as we have already noted in relation to divorce and to oaths, in the real world where people do oppress and take advantage of others, society will still have need for guidelines on how to deal judicially with such cases, and a standard of proportionate retribution (even if not in the physical terms of the OT rulings) may continue to serve as a useful guide for the judiciary.135

38 “Eye for eye, tooth for tooth” (quoted from the LXX) occurs three times in the Pentateuch: Exod 21:24; Lev 24:20; Deut 19:21, in each case as part of a longer list of equivalents (beginning with “life for life”), and in a context of formal trial. Such stipulations of proportionate retribution occur in other ancient law-codes, notably in the much earlier Babylonian code of Hammurabi where the same examples of eye and tooth are used (paragraphs 196–201). They may have been intended originally to limit the extravagant vengeance associated with an oriental bloodfeud, but the OT texts do not express this intention; rather in Deut 19:21 the list is preceded by “Show no pity”, to ensure that judges did not mitigate the full penalty required. The pentateuchal rulings are clearly intended to be applied literally: “Anyone who maims another shall suffer the same injury in return … the injury inflicted is the injury to be suffered.” (Lev 24:19–20) But by the time of Jesus appropriate financial compensation had generally taken the place of physical mutilation,136 so that it is probably not physical brutality as such which Jesus is here opposing, but rather the essential principle of even legitimate retribution.

39 Jesus is often quoted as opposing retaliation,137 a stance for which there are several parallels in the OT and other Jewish writings (see e.g. Lev 19:18; Prov 20:22; 24:29; 25:21–22; Sir 28:1–7, and the principle of leaving vengeance to God, not exacting it oneself, Deut 32:35; Isa 50:6–9; 1QS 10:17–18) and among pagan philosophers. But Jesus words go further than that: even resistance138 is forbidden, and no distinction is made between active and passive resistance, violent and non-violent,139 legal and illegal.140 Nor is this because of any doubt over the injustice of the offense: the person who is not to be resisted is “bad.” The term is the same as in v. 37, but here the context rules out the translation “the Evil One,” i.e. the Devil (see p. 193, n. 55) since the following examples are of human opponents or exploiters. The same consideration weighs against the abstract translation “Do not resist evil”, quite apart from the improbability of Jesus or Matthew ever countenancing such an amoral attitude. The startling teaching of this passage is that these are bad people, intent on getting the better of the disciple, but even their admitted badness does not justify the disciple in resisting them. The issue, then, is not whether one should stand up for good in principle (or as it affects other people), but whether one should stand up for oneself when under threat.

Four illustrations follow, all, as in vv. 23–26, 29–30 and 36 above, in the second person singular, envisaging specific personal dilemmas which in different ways exemplify the principle of non-resistance. The first results from a slap on the right cheek. To slap another’s cheek was a serious insult (2 Cor 11:20; cf. Lam 3:30) for which legal redress could be claimed (the code of Hammurabi deals with this too, in paragraphs 202–205, with penalties ranging from a small fine to the cutting off of an ear, depending on the social standing of the two parties involved), but to slap the right cheek required (if the assailant was right-handed) a slap with the back of the hand,141 which was far more insulting and would entail double damages (m. B. Qam. 8:6). This is more a matter of honor than of physical injury,142 and honor required appropriate recompense. Yet Jesus tells the disciple to forgo the financial benefit to which he is legally entitled, to accept the insult without responding,143 and even to offer the left cheek for a further, if less serious, insult. Such a response follows the model of God’s servant who “gave my back to those who struck me and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard (LXX has “to slapping”); I did not hide my face from insult and spitting,” Isa 50:6.144 In a culture which took honor and shame far more seriously than ours, this was a paradoxical and humiliating demand.145

40 The second illustration is even more clearly located in the law-court, with the opponent suing for possession of the disciple’s “shirt.”146 To forfeit the shirt would be bad enough, but the disciple is to voluntarily give up his “coat” (the himation, the larger, heavier and more valuable outer garment) as well. Whatever the legal rights with regard to the shirt (perhaps claimed as pledge for the payment of a debt), there could be no question of legally forfeiting the coat, since this was explicitly prohibited on humanitarian grounds in the OT law (Exod 22:25–27; Deut 24:12–13, showing that the himation could double as a sleeping blanket). What the opponent could not have dared to claim, the disciple is to offer freely, even at the cost of leaving himself with nothing to wear or to keep warm with. Cf. Paul’s exhortation to be wronged and defrauded rather than to institute a law-suit (1 Cor 6:7).

41 The third illustration takes up a specific grievance of subject people under the Roman occupation. “Dragoons you as a porter” is an attempt to capture the military force of angareuō, a rare term originally used for the stages ridden by officers in the Persian postal service, but in first-century Palestine referring especially to the Roman soldier’s right to enlist a member of the subject population for forced labor, in this case presumably as a porter147 for his equipment; the only other NT use of the verb is for Simon of Cyrene forced to carry Jesus’ cross (27:32). This oppressive practice was of course deeply resented by the people of occupied Palestine, but it was a Roman legal provision and they would have no choice about complying up to the limit required (“mile” was a Roman, not a Jewish measure). But Jesus calls on the disciple not only to accept the imposition but also to volunteer for a double stint.148 To do this for anyone would be remarkable, but to do it for the enemy was unheard-of. This cameo thus serves not only to illustrate Jesus’ demand to renounce one’s rights, but also prepares us for his equally revolutionary command to love one’s enemies (v. 44), and suggests that Jesus advocated a response to the Roman occupation which not only full-blown Zealots but even the ordinarily patriotic populace would have found incomprehensible.

42 The fourth illustration is a more everyday situation, a request for money or goods, whether from a neighbor or a beggar—and Jesus’ comprehensive wording does not allow us the luxury of distinguishing. Jesus’ injunction reflects the remarkable generosity of the provisions in Deut 15:7–11 for helping a fellow-Israelite in need, but is more open-ended (and even more obviously so in the parallel in Luke 6:30). Our natural resistance to such a request, especially from a stranger, is scarcely lessened when it is ostensibly for a loan rather than for an outright gift. This “beggar’s charter” is the most obviously impractical of all these illustrations, just because it does not speak of an exceptional situation. Few are in so fortunate a position as to be able to obey it literally for more than a few days, and it is easy to marshal arguments to prove that it is in the long-term interest of no one, not even the beggar, for us to do so. The principle of discrimination set out in 7:6 seems to offer a welcome refuge. But none of these illustrations sets out a prudential maxim; all of them (like the beatitudes) challenge us to unnatural behavior, and all must seem crazy to a secular world (and indeed have often been denounced as such). The point they are making is that in the kingdom of heaven self-interest does not rule, and even our legal rights and legitimate expectations may have to give way to the interests of others. It is for each disciple to work out for themselves how this principle can most responsibly be applied to the issue of giving and lending in the different personal and social circumstances in which we find ourselves.

(6) Love (5:43–47)

Here there is no question of Jesus contradicting what “was said” in the Pentateuch; indeed he might be thought rather to be defending it in that the words “quoted” include not only the OT command to love one’s neighbor (Lev 19:18) but also an additional clause which is not part of that text and which Jesus goes on to repudiate. But while the additional words draw a corollary which the OT text does not state, they represent what would be naturally understood to be the counterpart to its intended application, whereas Jesus’ contrasting statement goes far beyond the purview of Lev 19:18 and introduces a concept of undiscriminating love which cannot easily be derived from the Pentateuch at all. The key (as the lawyer of Luke 10:29 rightly perceived) lies in the meaning of “neighbor.” For most contemporary interpreters the term was restrictive, leaving non-neighbors outside the command to love; hence the popular addition “and hate your enemy.” The general use of “neighbor” in the OT suggests that Lev 19:18 has this restrictive sense, applying specifically to fellow-members of the Israelite community. For Jesus, however. the love of neighbor was broadly inclusive, as is spelled out in vv. 44–47 and more graphically in Luke 10:30–37.

In these verses, which are paralleled but in different words and order in Luke 6:27–35,149 the paradoxical values of the kingdom of heaven reach their climax in what is virtually an oxymoron, “Love your enemies;” an enemy is by definition not loved. Perhaps even more than turning the other cheek, this command has attracted the incredulity, and often the scorn, of many interpreters, as a utopian policy150 which makes no sense in a world characterized by conflict and self-interest.151 But it is at this point that Matthew’s Jesus plays his strongest ethical card: to love those who do not love you is not offered as a piece of pragmatic wisdom, but as a reflection of the character of God himself (v. 45). This final example thus prepares the way for the breath-taking final summary in v. 48, where the “greater righteousness” of v. 20 is revealed in all its otherness. The purpose of the whole of the discourse so far has not been to provide a suitable ethic for getting along alright in the world but to challenge those who have accepted the demands of the kingdom of heaven to live up to their commitment by being different from other people. The rhetorical questions of vv. 46–47 therefore sum up the thrust of all these examples of the greater righteousness: it is to live on a level above that of ordinary decent people, to draw your standards of conduct not from what everyone else is doing, but from your heavenly Father. This teaching of Jesus on the love of enemies formed one of the most distinctive traits of the early Christian movement,152 and has been widely influential ever since.

43 It may seem surprising that Lev 19:18, which is here quoted as the less-than-adequate first half of a contrast with Jesus’ new teaching, will later appear with no hint of criticism as the OT text which Jesus uses for half of his eventual summary of the law in 22:37–40 and which he puts on a par with the ten commandments in 19:19.153 But the addition of “and hate your enemy” shows that he is quoting it in its popularly understood form, which goes in quite the opposite direction to his own inclusive reading of “neighbor.” “Neighbor” is a frequent OT term for a fellow-member of the covenant community, and the associated terms in Lev 19:17–18 (“your kin,” “one of your people”) leave no doubt that that is its meaning there. The related question of the Israelite’s attitude to non-Israelites is not raised there. But it is raised elsewhere, often in a form which suggests that the addition “and hate your enemy” was not so far wide of the mark. Some passages in the law did call for benevolent treatment of a personal enemy (Exod 23:4–5; cf. Prov 24:17; 25:21) as well as a welcoming attitude to well-disposed foreigners (Lev 19:34; Deut 10:19), but the attitude to the non-Israelite enemy is probably more typically expressed by the verdict on neighboring peoples in Deut 23:3–6, by the treatment of the indigenous peoples of Canaan prescribed in Deut 7:1–6; 20:16–18 and illustrated in the book of Joshua, and by the violent nationalistic invective of Ps 137:7–9 and the hatred of God’s enemies in Ps 139:21–22. Such “hatred” would be felt by many to be a patriotic duty which appropriately complemented the communal loyalty expressed by Lev 19:18. We cannot now know whether the extended version of Lev 19:18 quoted by Jesus came from a recognizable source, but there is little doubt that many would have taken it as the natural sense. The nearest approximation to it in surviving literature is probably the Qumran rule “to love all the sons of light … and to hate all the sons of darkness,”154 where of course the “sons of light” represents a far narrower group than the “neighbor” of Lev 19:18.155 While it is true that in biblical language “hate” sometimes carries the connotation of “not love” or even “love less” as opposed to positive hatred (Gen 29:30–31; Matt 6:24; Luke 14:26; Rom 9:13), J. Jeremias is stretching this linguistic elastic to its limit when he translates here “You shall love your compatriot (but) you need not love your adversary.”156

44 Jesus’ radical new precept, “Love your enemies,” does not specify whether he is talking about personal hostility or about political enemies—which at that time would mean primarily the Roman occupying forces. The following verses focus on the former (“those who persecute you;” “those who love you;” “your own circle”), but even to raise the question is probably to engage in the sort of casuistry Jesus’ simple demand was intended to sweep aside. The change from the singular “enemy” of v. 43 to the plural here may be intended to underline its comprehensiveness: there is no class of enemy which is excluded (cf. the very general “bad person” in v. 39). To “love” (agapaō) in the NT is not only a matter of emotion but also of an attitude which determines our behavior, acting for the good of the other (7:12 well sums up its implications), and is therefore appropriately expanded by the following clause, “pray for those who persecute you.” The expectation of persecution for Jesus’ followers is a recurrent theme in Matthew’s gospel (5:10–12; 10:16–39; 13:21; 16:24–26; 23:34–36; 24:9–13). His demand here goes even beyond v. 39: not only are they not to retaliate, nor even to resist, but even positively to seek the good of their persecutors and to pray for them. The example of Stephen (Acts 7:60) was followed by many of the early Christian martyrs.157 Prayer is mentioned primarily as an expression of good will towards the persecutors, without specifying its content, but presumably it would at least include the request that they, like Saul of Tarsus, might see the light.158

A realistic assessment of what “loving enemies” might mean in practice must of course take account of the very robust way in which Jesus reacted to the opposition of the scribes and Pharisees in the diatribe of ch. 23. His concept of love is apparently not at the level of simply being nice to people and of allowing error to go unchallenged. Love is not incompatible with controversy and rebuke.

45 Love for enemies is a reflection of the character of God himself.159 The thought is not that such behavior will by itself make the disciples into God’s children,160 since that status is already implied in the term “your Father who is in heaven” (see on 5:16). Rather it will be the proper outworking of that relationship and demonstrate its legitimacy (as with the peace-makers in 5:9, a beatitude which is strongly reflected in this passage). Like father, like son (as v. 48 will further require). Both bad and good are part of God’s creation and his provision of natural resources161 is not targeted towards his “favorites”162—a thought which should give pause to some contemporary patterns of prayer for God’s discriminatory benevolence to his own people whether in matters of weather and natural resources or with regard to health, prosperity etc. The disciple’s benevolence should be equally open and uncalculating.163

46–47 Two pairs of rhetorical questions underline the point: benevolence restricted only to members of one’s own circle is no more than what the rest of the world expects and practises. “Love” and “welcome”164 refer not only to feelings and words, but to an accepting attitude which determines the way we treat other people. For the use of “tax-collectors” (see on 9:9) and “Gentiles” to characterize the world outside the disciple community cf. 18:17 and comments there (and cf. 6:7 for a similar use of “Gentile”).165 By using traditional Jewish terms for those whom they regarded as at the bottom of the moral scale Jesus underlines how basic a human instinct this is: everyone looks after their own. Underlying the form of these questions is the assumption first that the life of the disciple is meant to be different, special, extraordinary, and secondly that there is a reward for a life lived by this higher standard of love. The first of these assumptions has been amply displayed throughout this discourse, in the distinctive “good life” of the beatitudes, the images of the salt of the earth and light of the world, the “greater righteousness” of v. 20, and the series of increasingly unconventional demands which have illustrated it. The second (rewards for discipleship) has also already come to the surface in 5:12 (see comments there), and will do so increasingly in the next chapter. The reward of the children of God is for those who live as the children of God.

c. Fulfilling the Law: Summary (5:48)

48So you are to be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

While this verse appropriately rounds off the final example in vv. 43–47, picking up from v. 45 the theme of the children’s imitation of their heavenly Father (see on 5:16 for this Matthean phrase), its comprehensive phrasing serves also to sum up the nature of the whole new way of living which the six examples have together illustrated, and thus to put into a neat epigram the essential nature of the “greater righteousness” introduced in v. 20. This saying thus fulfills a more climactic function than the parallel in Luke 6:36, which has “merciful” instead of “perfect” and serves to underscore only Luke’s parallel to Matthew’s last two antitheses. The disciple’s life-style is to be different from other people’s because it draws its inspiration not from the norms of society but from the character of God. Even the God-given law had been accommodated to a practical ethical code with which Jewish society had come to feel comfortable, but Jesus is demanding a different approach, not via laws read as simply rules of conduct but rather by looking behind those laws to the mind and character of God himself. Whereas any definable set of rules could, in principle, be fully kept, the demand of the kingdom of heaven has no such limit—or rather its limit is perfection, the perfection of God himself.166

The wording of this summary recalls the repeated formula of Leviticus, “You are to be167 holy, for I the Lord your God am holy;” (Lev 19:2; cf. 11:44, 45; 20:26) God’s people were to reflect his character, and the same is now true for those who are subjects of the kingdom of heaven. The use of teleios (perfect)168 instead of “holy” may derive from the requirement of total loyalty to God in Deut 18:13, where the Hebrew tāmîm (complete, unblemished, blameless, perfect) is rendered by teleios in LXX. It is a wider term than moral flawlessness, and is used for spiritual “maturity” e.g. in 1 Cor 2:6; 14:20; Phil 3:15 and frequently in Hebrews.169 Matthew will use teleios again in 19:21 to denote the higher level of commitment represented by the rich man’s selling his possessions in contrast with his merely keeping the commandments (including again Lev 19:18).170 It is thus a suitable term to sum up the “greater righteousness” of v. 20, a righteousness which is demanded not only from an upper echelon of spiritual élites but from all who belong to the kingdom of God. It is in the promotion of this standard of perfection, going far beyond the literal requirements of the OT law, that Jesus “fulfills” it.