15 This formula (which echoes Jer 5:21; Ezek 12:2) will recur in 13:9, 43, where it will conclude a parable and a parable-explanation (cf. similar uses in Luke 14:35; Rev 2:7). In relation to parables it constitutes a challenge to discern the meaning of a cryptic utterance, and its wording echoes the theology of revelation which will be spelled out in 13:10–17: not everyone does have “ears to hear” and it is only to those who do and who exercise them that revelation will be successful. Here, while the preceding sayings are not strictly parabolic, they contain deep matters which challenge the spiritual insight of those who hear, and their openness to receive new and surprising truth.

c. The People’s Estimate of Both John and Jesus (11:16–19)

Verses 2–6 have explored John’s estimate of Jesus, and vv. 7–15 have set out Jesus’ estimate of John. Now the close link between the two is underlined by comparing the way in which they have been perceived by their contemporaries. Here is the first of several references in Matthew to “this generation.” The term will recur in 12:41, 42; 23:36, and with the addition of various uncomplimentary adjectives (“wicked,” “perverse,” “unbelieving,” “adulterous”) also in 12:39, 45; 16:4; 17:17.46 These passages focus on the failure of Jesus’ contemporaries to respond to his message, and so the term carries a strong tone of disapproval and warning, culminating in the climactic judgment on “this generation” in 23:36. At this earlier stage in the narrative the condemnation is less strong, but already the complaint is that “this generation” have failed to respond and have misconstrued the nature of Jesus’ ministry, as they had already done that of John.47

The charge is launched in the form of a little parable from village life; the children are probably48 playing at weddings (at which men traditionally danced) and funerals (at which women were the professional mourners).49 Several commentators, following J. Jeremias,50 therefore suppose the two groups of children to be the boys and the girls criticizing each other.

The verb homoioō, “to compare” (cf. 7:24, 26; 13:24; 18:23; 22:2; 25:1), and the adjective homoios, “like” (cf. 13:31, 33, 44, 45, 47, 52; 20:1), are Matthew’s standard vocabulary for introducing parables. The comparison is perhaps not exactly drawn, in that “this generation” is apparently likened to the complainants rather than to those about whose lack of response they complain, but it is the scene as a whole rather than the specific equivalence which conveys the message.51 It would be possible to understand the complaining children as “this generation,” who piped to John but he refused to dance and who sang a dirge to Jesus but he refused to mourn52—the question and answer in 9:14–15 perhaps gets close to the latter scenario. But the explanatory comments that follow the parable fit better with the traditional interpretation53 that it is Jesus who pipes and John who sings the dirge, and rather than join in the festivity or the lamentation “this generation” dismisses the one for his excessive exuberance and the other for his unnatural asceticism.54 see on 9:23 for a more specialized use of “pipers” in connection with mourning rather than festivity; outside that specific context pipes more naturally call to jollity.

John’s trademark asceticism (3:4; cf. Luke 1:15 for his abstinence from alcohol) had clearly appealed to some of the people, but the “disciples of John” remained a minority known for their régime of fasting which most people did not wish to follow (9:14). Jesus, though in many ways John’s successor, did not follow him in this, and indeed made a point of the inappropriateness of fasting for his disciples (9:15). In Matthew’s narrative sequence that dispute follows from Jesus’ presence at a celebration meal in Matthew’s house (9:10–13; Luke 5:29 calls it a “great banquet”), an incident which certainly justified his being labeled a “friend of tax-collectors and sinners,” and one which also illustrates his willingness to enjoy good fare when it was available, even though his normal lifestyle seems in fact to have allowed little such luxury (8:20). References to feasting in Jesus’ teaching do not suggest a doctrinaire opponent of good food and drink (8:11–12; 22:1–14; 25:1–12; 26:29), though the common translation “drunkard” here goes further than the Greek term warrants (see p. 420, n. 12).55 In the Cana miracle (John 2:1–11) Jesus provided a large amount of good wine, but we are not told how much of it he drank!

The reference to “wisdom’s deeds” (see p. 420, n. 13) is unexpected. Following the “deeds of the Messiah” in v. 2 the “deeds” here are naturally understood as those of Jesus, i.e. his criticized lifestyle, but in the light of the equal treatment of John and Jesus in the explanation of the parable it may also be understood to apply equally to the very different “deeds” of John. Each is equally justified in the context of their different roles, each offering a different application of the divine wisdom. When “wisdom” is used as the subject of a verb with a personal sense (to be “justified”) we should probably take it in the sense widely developed in the post-biblical Wisdom Literature on the basis of the personification of the divine wisdom in Proverbs (notably but not only in Prov 8:22–31). That wisdom is essentially practical, guiding her followers in living the good life and avoiding the traps laid by folly and wickedness. Both John and Jesus in their different ways have displayed that practical wisdom, which is thus “justified” over against the criticism of those who represent a more conventional lifestyle.56

It has been argued, however, that Matthew sees more in the term “wisdom” in this saying. If the “deeds of wisdom” may be read as an echo of “the deeds of the Messiah” in v. 2, it is suggested that this is tantamount to identifying Jesus as Wisdom incarnate.57 It is true that at the end of this chapter Jesus will speak words which closely echo the utterance of personified Wisdom in Sir 51:23–27 (see on 11:28–30), and a few other possible allusions to the tradition of personified Wisdom have been traced with less plausibility in other parts of Matthew. But in the present context, where John’s actions are as much in focus as those of Jesus, a christological identification of Jesus as Wisdom is perhaps too extravagant a conclusion to draw from a term which in the OT Wisdom tradition refers primarily to practical guidance for living the good life rather than to a metaphysical personification of a divine attribute. Not that Matthew would have found the identification of Jesus with Wisdom unacceptable: it is clear in other parts of the NT which explain the cosmic significance of Christ in terms of the creative role of Wisdom in Prov 8 and the derivative traditions, and it is probably implied as we shall see in Matt 11:28–30. But the present context does not require it and indeed, if the parallelism between John and Jesus be given due weight, even militates against it.

2. Unresponsive Towns in Galilee (11:20–24)

20Then he began to reproach the towns in which his many1 miracles had taken place, because they had not repented: 21“Woe to you, Chorazin; woe to you, Bethsaida. For if the miracles which have taken place in you had taken place in Tyre and Sidon, they would long ago have repented in sackcloth and ashes. 22And indeed2 I tell you: it will be more bearable on the day of judgment for Tyre and Sidon than for you. 23And you, Capernaum, will you really3 be ‘exalted to heaven’?4 No, rather ‘you will go down5 to Hades.’6 For if the miracles which have taken place in you had been performed7 in Sodom, it would have survived until today. 24And indeed I tell you8 that it will be more bearable on the day of judgment for the land of Sodom than for you.”

The response of John the Baptist to Jesus (positive but equivocal) has led on to Jesus’ comments about “this generation” which refused to respond to both John and Jesus (vv. 16–19). It is that unresponsiveness rather than John’s uncertainty which provides the cue for this pair of balancing sayings addressed to three of the most prominent towns of the area on the north of the lake where Jesus’ ministry has so far been focused. They pick up the theme of 10:11–15: the towns which may be expected to reject the disciples are already failing to respond to Jesus himself. In the light of earlier accounts of widespread enthusiasm for Jesus in the area (4:23–25; 7:28–29; 8:1; 9:35–36), and particularly in Capernaum (8:16, 18–22; 9:8, 10, 26, 31, 33), the stark accusation that the communities as a whole have failed to repent is surprising. Is this due to a distinction between (superficial) enthusiasm and (life-changing) repentance? Or should we read these as broad generalizations about the attitude of the townspeople (and perhaps especially their leaders; 9:3, 11, 34) to which the crowds who followed Jesus (and still more his disciples, who are also local men) are exceptions? The general expectation of opposition and persecution which we have met in ch. 10, and which is apparently to come from the local Jewish population, suggests the latter, in which case we should probably read Matthew’s earlier positive summaries of the response to Jesus as representing less than the majority of ordinary Galileans. For a time Jesus may have been the talk of the town, but interest has quickly waned, and Jesus’ frustration with “this generation” finds expression in language nearly as strong as he will use more specifically for the scribes and Pharisees in Jerusalem in ch. 23. Even in Galilee, including Jesus’ “own” town of Capernaum, the honeymoon period is apparently over. And when those who have been privileged to witness Jesus’ ministry in their own communities fail to respond, they must expect to face a more serious judgment than the notorious pagan cities which had no such special revelation.

20 As in 11:7, “Jesus began to” indicates a change of focus, as Jesus turns from commenting to the crowds about John to a rhetorical address to the Galilean communities where his own ministry has been focused. Matthew uses polis, “town,” for anything from the insignificant village of Nazareth (2:23) to the capital city of Jerusalem (4:5; 21:10). Here it applies to something in between, three of the larger Jewish communities which, while not rivaling the magnificence of the Hellenistic cities of Sepphoris and Tiberias, were the centers of provincial life north of the lake. Most of the miracles so far related, where any specific location is stated, have been in or around Capernaum, but the more general summaries of 4:23–24 and 9:35 (cf. also 11:1) indicate that other towns would also have witnessed miracles of healing and exorcism.9 The expected response of “repentance” is more reminiscent of the ministry of John (3:2, 8, 11) than what we have so far heard of Jesus’ emphasis (and the contrast has been vividly drawn in vv. 16–19), but in 4:17 the demand of Jesus, as of John (3:2), was to “repent” in view of the coming of God’s kingship. He is looking for a change, a new beginning, but these towns seem content to continue as if nothing was different. They have not grasped what God’s kingship means.

21–22 Neither Chorazin nor Bethsaida appears elsewhere in Matthew, but archeology has shown both to have been substantial communities comparable in size and importance to Capernaum. Chorazin, less than an hour’s walk from Capernaum, would have been a natural extension of Jesus’ activity. Bethsaida, on the other side of the Jordan and so strictly outside Galilee in the territory of Herod Philip, is mentioned a number of times in the accounts of Jesus’ ministry (Mark 6:45; 8:22; Luke 9:10) and according to John 1:44; 12:21 was the original home of Jesus’ disciples Peter, Andrew and Philip. The traditional prophetic formula “Woe to you” (found 22 Times in Isaiah alone)10 marks out those whose actions and attitudes have aligned them against God and his purposes (note Luke’s striking use of it as a counterbalance to the beatitude formula, Luke 6:24–26); in ch. 23 Jesus will use it repeatedly against the religious leaders in Jerusalem, and cf. 18:7b; 26:24. It can also be used of the innocent victims of disaster (cf. 24:19 and probably 18:7a), but here the formula certainly conveys blame rather than sympathy.11 The expectation that the visible “deeds of the Messiah” should convince John the Baptist (vv. 2–6) applies also to these towns. Tyre and Sidon, usually mentioned in the NT as a conventional pair, were the leading cities of Phoenicia, their territory bordering Galilee to the north-west (15:21). Both are the targets of prophetic denunciation in the OT, but particularly Tyre (especially in Isa 23:1–17; Ezek 26–28); they represent arrogant opposition to Yahweh and his people. Yet even these pagan peoples (like Nineveh, 12:41; for the sackcloth and ashes cf. Jonah 3:6–8) would have been more likely to repent in the face of such evidence than Chorazin and Bethsaida. There may also be an oblique reference to the miracle of Elijah which took place in Sidon (1 Kgs 17:8–24), which brought a local woman to recognize God’s prophet and the truth of God’s word (v. 24), though nothing is said there of the reaction of other Sidonians. The comparison of fates on the day of judgment is a repeated motif (cf. 10:15; 12:41–42) which is designed to emphasize the guilt of the Jews who failed to respond to Jesus rather than to pronounce on the destiny of the Gentile peoples as such (cf. 10:15, where the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah is not put in doubt by the comparison).

23–24 Capernaum has been hitherto a place of revelation and response (4:13–16; 8:5–17; 9:1–34), but woven into those accounts has been an undercurrent of opposition and rejection (8:10–12, with special reference to its Jewish inhabitants over against the Gentile centurion; 9:3, 11, 34) provoking Jesus’ comment that the old wineskins cannot accommodate the new wine (9:16–17). Capernaum, as the base of Jesus’ operations, has received more of the light (4:16) than the other towns, and so its unresponsiveness deserves a greater condemnation. The comparison with Sodom (cf. 10:15) is therefore even more wounding than that with Tyre and Sidon, since at least the Phoenician cities, though captured by Alexander the Great, were still standing, whereas Sodom was the classic example of total destruction, its remains now buried under the waters of the Dead Sea. Even worse is the unmistakable echo in v. 23 (see above n. 6) of Isaiah’s taunt (Isa 14:13–15) against the ambitions and downfall of the king of Babylon, the traditional enemy and destroyer of Judah. The comparison seems remote, both in that Capernaum was no imperial power and was strongly Jewish in its population and sympathies and also in that we have no information to enable us to identify any such desire on its part to “be exalted to heaven.” The example of the king of Babylon is apparently being used not because of any specific equivalence, but as a proverbial example of pride going before a fall, the pride in this case being Capernaum’s failure to recognize any need to respond to Jesus’ call to repentance. Hades12 is the place of the dead rather than a place of punishment; here, as in 16:18, its only other use in Matthew, it symbolizes destruction.

3. Revelation to the Little Ones (11:25–30)

25At that time Jesus declared,1 “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and revealed them to little children. 26Yes, Father, that was your good pleasure.2 27Everything has been entrusted3 to me by my Father, and no one recognizes4 the Son except the Father, nor does anyone recognize the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son is willing to reveal him.5

28“Come here to me, all you who are toiling and heavily loaded, and I will give you rest. 29Take my yoke on your shoulders6 and learn from me, because7 I am meek and lowly in heart; so you will find rest for your souls. 30For my yoke is kind8 and my burden is light.”

In stark contrast to the towns which had refused to respond to Jesus (because they did not “recognize the Son,” v. 27), we hear now of those to whom the truth about Jesus has been revealed and who are now encouraged to enjoy the benefits of being his followers. In chapter 12 we shall return to Jesus’ opponents and those who refuse to respond to his message, before again turning with relief to a portrait of those whose commitment to do the will of his Father makes them Jesus’ true family (12:46–50). 11:25–30 and 12:46–50 thus constitute two high points within an otherwise unpromising survey of Galilean responses, two instances of successful sowing among the otherwise unresponsive soil (13:1–9).

Within what is presented as a single speech of Jesus there are apparently two independent sections, the first (vv. 25–27) shared with Luke 10:21–22, where it similarly follows closely on the woes against Chorazin, Bethsaida and Capernaum, the second (vv. 28–30) peculiar to Matthew.9 They are not of the same type, vv. 25–27 being an address to God,10 vv. 28–30 an invitation to potential followers. Their coherence is not in their literary form but in their underlying subject-matter, as they express in different ways the paradoxical values of the kingdom of heaven and the privilege of those who through Jesus have become its subjects. As in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus’ true disciples (for that is surely the reference of the “little children” of 11:25 as it is explicitly of the “mother and brothers” of 12:49) represent an alternative community. They are “little ones” in comparison with those whom the world thinks important, but it is they alone who can know the truth about God and his Son; the same theme will be developed further in 13:10–17. Moreover, Jesus himself represents that same paradoxical value-scale: his character as “meek and lowly in heart” reflects the values of the beatitudes in 5:3–10, and his “yoke” (traditionally a symbol of oppressive power) is in fact “kind” and a source not of misery but of “rest” for those who submit to his benign control.

These verses also contain some of the most remarkable christological teaching of the gospel. The theme of privileged revelation and of the uniquely close relationship of Jesus to his Father in vv. 25–27 provides a suggestive context for Matthew’s clearest allusion to the Jewish figure of Wisdom in vv. 28–30.11 Jesus’ prayer reminds us of the portrayal of Wisdom in the OT and later Jewish literature as God’s firstborn and only associate in creation (Prov 8:22–31) and as the one who alone mediates God’s truth and instruction for living (Prov 8:1–21, 32–36 and passim). The wording of vv. 25–27 does not directly echo familiar Wisdom passages, though conceptual parallels to v. 25 can be traced in the tradition of a “hidden wisdom,”12 and to v. 27 in the idea that only God knows Wisdom (e.g. Job 28) and only Wisdom knows God and can reveal his truth (e.g. Wisd 9:9–11).13 But in vv. 28–30 the echo becomes unmistakable, as not only the imagery of the yoke but also many other aspects of the wording are reminiscent of Sir 51:23–27 (and less directly Sir 6:23–30 where the imagery of Wisdom’s yoke is first deployed).14 For details of the echoes see comments below. Their significance lies not only in Jesus’ issuing of the sage’s invitation to “come to me” for relief, but more remarkably in that he offers not Wisdom’s yoke, but his own, and is himself the giver of the “rest” which the sage could only claim to have found for himself as a result of taking on Wisdom’s yoke. Jesus is not then, like the earlier Jesus ben Sirach, merely Wisdom’s messenger—he adopts in his own person the role of the divine Wisdom which the sage had commended.15

That alone would be enough to mark this pericope as a christological high point in the gospel, but no less important is the Father/Son imagery of v. 27 (as well as Jesus’ first direct address to God as “Father” in vv. 25–26). The un ique status of Jesus as God’s son has been explicit in 2:15 and 3:17, has formed the basis for the testing in the wilderness in 4:1–11 and has been declared by supernatural beings in 8:29, but here it achieves a new prominence in the private prayer of Jesus himself, and is made the basis for a statement unique in this gospel about the exclusive mutual knowledge of Father and Son, a Synoptic saying which has understandably been declared more in keeping with the language of the Fourth Gospel than with the rest of Matthew or Luke.16 This is not, of course, a public declaration but a prayer, and there will be few occasions when Jesus himself will even hint publicly at his status as Son of God until the climactic declaration of 26:63–64; in 21:37–39 the claim will be conveyed only in the imagery of a parable, and in 24:36 it occurs almost in passing and in the hearing only of his disciples. But the truth declared in 3:17 (and to be repeated in 17:5) remains the basis for the reader’s understanding of Jesus and here it finds its expression appropriately in Jesus’ first recorded prayer to his Father. What is said here of the exclusive relationship between “the Father” and “the Son” begins to prepare the reader for the climax of the gospel where “the Son” will take his place alongside the Father and the Holy Spirit as the object of the disciples’ allegiance (28:19). This is not yet a formulated doctrine of the Trinity, but it is a decisive step toward it.17

25 In Luke 10:21–22 this saying begins with “In that same hour,” which links it with the return of the missionaries and their rejoicing that their names are written in heaven. Matthew does not make that connection, and so instead here “At that time” links the following declaration with the unresponsiveness of the people of Galilee, who exemplify the “wise and intelligent” from whom the truth is hidden. The very unspecific term “these things” must be understood in context of the whole revelatory process of Jesus’ ministry, both the truths he has taught and the truth about who he himself is. The division in response to Jesus’ message is here unambiguously traced to the will of God himself (see also the following verse); it is a matter of revelation to some and not to others, as 13:11–17 will more fully spell out. The basis of this division is not an arbitrary selection, but the fundamental principle of divine revelation, that it comes to those who are open to it, but finds no response with those who think they know better; with the “wise and intelligent” it is wasted like seed sown beside the path (13:4, 19). To describe this effect as God’s actively “hiding” the truth reflects the Jewish tendency to ignore intermediate causes and to attribute the end result directly to the divine purpose; we shall have more to say on this in relation to 13:11–17. If God is indeed “Lord of heaven and earth,” a form of address unique in the NT (though cf. Acts 4:24; Rev 10:6; 14:7) but typical of Jewish prayer,18 it is understood that what happens on earth, even in the minds of the human beings he has created, comes under his sovereign will.

The strongly Hebraic tone of the prayer is seen also in the word for “praise,” exhomologeomai, which occurs in only one other place in Matthew, where it means “confess” (3:6). Its use here reflects LXX usage, where the verb not only means “confess,” “acknowledge,” but also regularly translates the hiphil of the Hebrew yādaʿ, meaning to “make known,” “declare” the works of God, and hence to “praise” him.19 But while the tone of the prayer is thus familiarly Jewish, the address to God simply as “Father” breaks new ground. The imagery of God as Father of his people is not new, but while Jewish prayers might occasionally refer to God as “our Father,” as Jesus taught his own disciples to do (6:9), for an individual to address God simply as “Father” (presumably in the Aramaic form Abba, Mark 14:36) is, as far as extant records go, unprecedented.20 The familial tone of the simple “Father” in combination with the reverential “Lord of heaven and earth” provides a telling insight into the nature of prayer for Jesus.

“Wise” and “intelligent” are not in themselves pejorative terms. Indeed Jesus will speak in 23:34 of sending “prophets, wise people and scribes” as his messengers to an unresponsive Israel. But the wisdom which he has just celebrated in 11:19 and whose tones he will adopt in this pericope is not that of human cleverness but of divine revelation. Even the best of human insight which relies only on its own resources cannot penetrate the divine wisdom; it is “hidden” from it. By contrast, “little children,” precisely because they do not rely on their own resources, are open to receive the revelation; cf. the OT theme of wisdom given to the “simple” (Ps 19:7; 119:130 [in both of which LXX uses nēpios]; Prov 1:4 etc.). Nēpios, an “infant,” even a “babe in arms,” is a familar NT image for the immature who remain dependent on others (Rom 2:20; 1 Cor 13:11; Eph 4:14); it is the opposite end of the human value-scale from the mature, self-confident adult. The unresponsive world may despise the humble disciple, but in the matter of divine wisdom as in so many aspects of the kingdom of heaven the first will be last and the last first; for a similar contrast, again using nēpios, see 21:15–16. We have already met in 10:42 the Matthean motif of Jesus’ true disciples as the “little ones,” and the theme will be resumed more forcefully in 18:6–14 as well as in the “least of these brothers of mine” in 25:40, 45.

26 The reversal of roles set out in v. 25 (the little children receive the truth while the wise and intelligent remain in the dark) is not an accidental exception to the normal order of things; it is God’s “good pleasure.” It represents the basic reversal of human values which constantly recurs as the values of the kingdom of heaven are explained in this gospel, and Jesus, as the Son who alone fully understands his Father (v. 27), can declare that this is the way God intended it to be. This theme is already clear in the OT, where prophets and wisdom writers delight to put the pretensions of human wisdom in their place (Isa 29:13–16; Jer 8:8–9; 9:23–24; Prov 1:2–7 etc); it will be memorably developed by Paul in 1 Cor 1:18–2:16.21 What human wisdom, with its self-centered viewpoint, finds paradoxical and humiliating, is quite simply God’s good pleasure. This is the way he has ordered his world. It should be noted, of course, that to say this is not to say that he has pre-selected individuals to be placed in each category; vv. 20–24 have already made it clear that people have a responsibility and a choice as to whether or not they receive his revelation. It is also important to note that this declaration is followed by Jesus’ open invitation to any who are in need (not only the “chosen”) to “come to me” (v. 28).

27 The direct address to God in vv. 25–26 now gives way to a third-person pronouncement about Jesus’ own position. It provides the justification for his confident declaration of God’s purpose in the preceding verses, but also draws out the wider christological dimensions of what it means for Jesus to be God’s “beloved Son, with whom I am delighted” (3:17). In relation to the issue of divine revelation in vv. 25–26 it in effect places Jesus as the indispensable intermediary between God and the “little children:” it is only through him that they have received and can receive their special knowledge of God’s truth. In this context “everything” probably refers particularly to the revelation of truth,22 but the term is not in itself restricted to that, and the wording anticipates the post-resurrection pronouncement of 28:18, that “All authority in heaven and earth has been given to me.” Jesus, the Son, is the one and only plenipotentiary of the one true God, his Father. The focus is on his possession of this authority rather than on when and how it was given. While this statement would be consonant with a doctrine of Jesus’ pre-existence, it does not in itself require it, any more than does the parallel aorist passive verb in 28:18, which in context should probably be taken of the empowerment of the Son of Man through his death and resurrection rather than of his eternal status.

The familiarity of Jesus’ boldly distinctive address to God as “Father” in vv. 25–26 is explained by the teaching of this saying that only the Father truly knows the Son and only the Son truly knows the Father. This exclusive mutual knowledge23 of Father and Son has the effect of placing them in a category apart from other sentient beings, much as in 24:36 “the Son” (the same abbreviated title as here) is placed in a category above and separate from the angels and everyone else—though in that case as we shall see even the Son is not privy to one particular aspect of the Father’s knowledge. Matthew’s use of epiginōskō, “recognize,” here (see p. 440, n. 4) may seem surprising in that in 8:29 demons have recognized Jesus as the Son of God (and cf. 4:3, 6), but such formal identification falls far short of the Father’s intimate knowledge of his Son. In biblical literature to “know” is more a matter of relationship than of intellectual attainment; it is personal rather than formal. When both OT and NT writers speak of people other than the Son as “knowing God” (Jer 9:24; 31:34; Hos 6:6; Jn 14:7; 17:3; Gal 4:9, etc.), this “knowledge” is understood not as information available to all and sundry (except in a very limited sense in Rom 1:21), but as a special gift of God, and in the NT is specifically associated with faith in Jesus. Jesus’ saying here provides the basis for that extension: “anyone to whom the Son is willing to reveal him.” Here then is a Synoptic equivalent to the Johannine declaration, “I am the way and the truth and the life; no one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6) And just as the revelation of truth has been attributed to the Father’s “good pleasure” in vv. 25–26, so now the knowledge of the Father depends on the “will” of the Son. It is freely given, not achieved by human cleverness. In that revelatory process the Son’s will stands on a par with the Father’s.

J. Jeremias24 has suggested that the use of capital letters for “Father” and “Son” in the second part of this verse is inappropriate, since Jesus is making a general statement about fathers and sons, not a specific statement about himself and God. It would be linguistically possible (though probably not very natural) to read “the father” and “the son” in that generic sense, but this would be a highly questionable generalization: there are many fathers and sons who can hardly be said to know one another as well as some other people (especially spouses) know them. Moreover, the extension of this knowledge to others through the son, but not through the father, is hard to explain if it is simply a statement about human relationships. But even if Jeremias were right with regard to v. 27b alone, it is hardly possible that either Matthew or his readers could have read the saying in this parabolic sense, immediately after Jesus’ address to God as “Father” in vv. 25–26 and his reference to “my Father” in v. 27a, and yet failed to recognize the specific “father” and “son” to whom in context the parable must refer—and indeed Jeremias had no desire to dispute this application or the christology which derives from it. The unique position of Jesus as God’s Son is thus clear in this saying, whether the point is made parabolically or more directly by the use of recognized titles.

28 Jesus has spoken to God about the revelation of truth in vv. 25–26, and in v. 27 he has spoken in general terms about how the Father can be known only through the Son. Now this special revelatory role of the Son is expressed in a direct invitation to find the solution to life’s problems by coming to Jesus. The terms he uses reflect the Jewish understanding of the divine Wisdom as the intermediary between God and his people. I mentioned above (p. 441) that already in vv. 25–27 it is possible to trace conceptual links with aspects of the Jewish Wisdom tradition, and so to see Jesus as, in Matthew’s view, himself taking the place of the personified divine Wisdom, hidden from human cleverness, but able to communicate to those who seek her the truth about God which she alone truly understands. As the focus moves in vv. 28–30 from knowing the truth to finding rest, the echoes of Wisdom literature become even clearer. The most obvious source25 for Jesus’ language here is Sir 51:23–27 (cf. Sir 6:23–30), in which the sage invites the unlearned to come near to him to find Wisdom, to put their necks under Wisdom’s yoke so that their souls receive instruction, and informs them that in this way he himself, having toiled only a little, has found much rest. The echoes of the Greek text are clear: the words for “to me,” “toil,” “yoke,” “find,” “rest” and “soul” are all the same. But the way these themes are combined is significantly different. Whereas the sage is himself the recipient of Wisdom’s blessings, and invites others to share what he has received from her, Jesus is no intermediary but issues “Wisdom’s” invitation in his own person. Wisdom’s yoke is now his yoke, and it is he who offers rest to those who toil.26

The invitation to “come here to me” is an important counterbalance to the statement in v. 27 that the knowledge of God is open only to those to whom the Son “is willing” to reveal him. That willingness is here shown to be not restrictive but open-ended, the invitation being issued to “all.” The only requirement is that those who come to him must recognize their need for help and be willing to accept his yoke and learn from him. This is an invitation which the “wise and intelligent” may well choose to ignore, while the “little children” come willingly. The invitation is there for all, but (as in vv. 20–24) not all will respond to it; many are invited but few are chosen (see on 22:14).

The “toiling” and “loading” which form the background to this invitation27 are not explained. They may be metaphors for the difficulties and pressures of life in general,28 but in 23:4 “heavy, cumbersome burdens on people’s shoulders” is a metaphor for the legal and ethical demands made by the scribes and Pharisees. The metaphor of a yoke, which in the OT commonly denoted social or political oppression (Gen 27:40; Exod 6:6–7; 1 Kgs 12:4–14; Isa 58:6, 9; Jer 28:2–14, etc.) and had a strongly pejorative sense, came to be used in later Jewish literature for the demands of the law upon people’s obedience, usually understood in a positive sense, an obligation freely accepted by “putting on the yoke of the Torah.”29 It is possible, then, that here we should understand the heavy burdens in the light of 23:4 as the unreasonable demands of the scribes with their excessive concern to regulate people’s behavior; cf. Acts 15:10, where the “yoke” is an unreasonable legal demand. But the wording in this passage does not make that application explicit, and a wider reference to life’s difficulties cannot be ruled out.30

29 The animal yoke, which harnesses two animals together to pull a plow or cart, is to be distinguished from the human yoke, which is worn by a single person to distribute the weight of a load across the shoulders.31 Each is an unwelcome restriction which is gladly thrown off when the work is done, but the purpose of the human yoke is to make it easier to carry or pull a load. If there is a burden to be borne, it is better with a yoke than without. The pejorative use of “yoke” imagery in the OT, if it refers to the human yoke (as it apparently does in Jer 27:2), therefore focuses not so much on the function of the yoke itself but rather on the unwanted imposition of the burden and the servitude it implies; the rabbinic use on the other hand focuses on the willing acceptance of an aid to carrying. The animal yoke is the basis of two NT metaphorical uses which focus on joining two people together (2 Cor 6:14; Phil 4:3),32 but here, as in most Jewish usage, it is more likely the single human yoke which is in view. However appealing the idea of being “in double harness with Jesus” may be, that is not the point. He is offering those who are finding their loads too hard to carry a new yoke which, far from adding to their oppression, will ease the burden and, paradoxically, will bring not further toil but “rest.”

Jesus’ yoke, like that of the Torah (and of Wisdom in Sir 51:26), is one of “learning.” Discipleship (from the same Greek root, “learn”) is a life-long process of learning how to live as God requires. But this learning, unlike that of the scribes (23:4), brings not weariness but “rest for your souls.” “Souls” here translates the same term psychē which I have normally translated “life” (2:20; 6:25; 10:39; see further on 16:25–26) but in 10:28 “soul” (see p. 399, n. 4). “Rest for your lives” would be an awkward English idiom; psychē denotes as usual the true being of the person, so here the reference is to rest at the deepest level.33 If there is a specific reference in this passage to the “burdens” of scribal demands (see above), we should remember that the “rest” Jesus offers is not a relaxation of the demands of righteousness (rather the opposite: see 5:20 and the following examples), but a new relationship with God which makes it possible to fulfill them. It is not the removal of any yoke, but a new and “kind” yoke which makes the burdens “light.”

A “yoke” implies obedience, indeed often slavery (Gal 5:1; 1 Tim 6:1); what makes the difference is what sort of master one is serving. So the beneficial effect of Jesus’ yoke derives from the character of the one who offers it.34 Human convention finds it hard to envisage as “meek and lowly” one who can claim that everything has been entrusted to him by God and who has just been declaring in forthright terms God’s judgment on those who have rejected his message. But in the kingdom of heaven meekness is not incompatible with authority,35 and in 12:15–21 we shall be reminded of the non-confrontational style of God’s appointed Messiah. With those who are unresponsive and hostile to his message Jesus can be fierce (see ch. 23 passim), but to the “little children” to whom God has revealed the truth he is gentle and considerate, “lowly” not in the sense of being unaware of his exalted status but of not using it to browbeat those under his authority. His disciples will be called to adopt the same approach in 20:25–28 (as indeed they have been already in 5:3–10).

“You will find rest for your souls” echoes the Hebrew text of Jer 6:16 (LXX has “purification” instead of “rest”), where it is the reward Yahweh offers to those who find and walk in the good way.36 That Jesus now issues the same promise under his own authority says much for the christology underlying this extraordinary pericope. As in the Beatitudes of 5:3–10, there is no doubt an eschatological dimension to the rest which Jesus offers,37 but that does not mean that the offer has no relevance to the problems encountered by disciples in this life; it is for the present as well as for the future, just as the “sabbath rest which still remains for the people of God” in Heb 4:1–11 is nonetheless one which its readers are exhorted to enter “today.”

30 A comfortably-fitting yoke and a light burden is the ideal combination. Chrēstos, “kind,”38 is of course a personal term not appropriate literally to a yoke; it is transferred to the metaphor from the person whose service the yoke symbolizes. Contrast the “heavy, cumbersome burdens” imposed by the scribes and Pharisees (23:4). The lightness of Jesus’ yoke depends not only on his personal character as described in v. 29 but also on his new interpretation of the Torah which, in contrast with the scribal concern for detailed regulation, enables a person to see beyond the surface level of dos and donts to the true underlying purpose of God (see the discussion of 5:17–48 above). A striking example of this difference of approach to law-keeping will follow immediately in 12:1–14, which will reveal two contrasting ways of understanding the “rest” which the sabbath was meant to provide.

H. Jesus’ Authority is Challenged (12:1–45)

In 11:25–30 the narrative has reached a high point, not only in the remarkable christological revelations contained in Jesus’ brief prayer, declaration and invitation, but also in that we have been reminded that not everyone has shared in the unresponsiveness which Jesus has castigated in 11:16–24. There will be a similar “high point” in 12:46–50, before the third main discourse of the gospel analyzes by means of parables the reasons for the varied response encountered by Jesus and his message of the kingdom of heaven. But before we reach that point Matthew continues to set out the narrative basis for that discourse by further exploring the way people in Galilee (and especially now the leaders of opinion) have reacted to Jesus’ claims. In ch. 11 we heard about the failure of people in general to recognize and respond to Jesus as the Messiah; now the narrative plumbs lower depths, as we hear of those who are not merely indifferent to Jesus but actively opposed to him. Three areas of controversy stand out in this chapter: Jesus’ attitude to the sabbath (vv. 1–14), his exorcisms (vv. 22–37), and the basis of his authority as it is challenged in the demand for an authenticating “sign” (vv. 38–45). At each point we meet people in positions of religious leadership who confront Jesus and challenge his authority to act as he has been doing, “the Pharisees” in vv. 2, 14 and 24 and “some of the scribes and Pharisees” in v. 38. For them Jesus is a law-breaker (vv. 1–14), an agent of Satan (vv. 24–32) and a self-appointed “teacher” with no proper authorization (vv. 38–42). As a result already at this relatively early point in the story we hear of a formulated plan to eliminate Jesus (12:14), even though it will not in fact be in Galilee and under Pharisaic auspices that Jesus will eventually be executed, but under the priestly régime of Jerusalem. Matthew will have more to say of Galilean opposition to Jesus in 13:53–14:2; 15:1–20; 16:1–4, but already by the end of ch. 12 the main lines have been laid down.

But in this section of the gospel we hear not only of the opposition but also, and at greater length, of Jesus’ response to it both in overt justification of his mission (vv. 3–8, 11–12, 25–29, 39–42) and in polemical comment on his opponents and their attitude (vv. 30–37, 43–45). In the course of this teaching we shall three times meet the claim, in relation to the recognized authorities of OT Israel, “something greater/more is here” (vv. 6, 41, 42; cf. the same idea without the phrase in vv. 3–4, see comments below), a phrase which occurs only here in the gospel. This is a pointer to the issue of authority which underlies this whole section and which comes into the open in the demand for a sign in v. 38. Jesus sets his own status alongside that of the highest authority figures of the OT, David the king, the priests in the temple, Jonah the prophet and Solomon the king and wise man, and (implicitly in the case of David but explicitly for the others) claims that “something greater” has now superseded those recognized authorities. Here is one of the most striking examples of the typological character of Matthew’s presentation of Jesus: king, priest, temple, prophet, wise man all provide models against which Jesus stands as “something greater”1 It is the failure of Israel’s current religious leadership to recognize this new and decisive phase in God’s dealings with his people which makes them more culpable even than Israel’s old pagan neighbors (vv. 41–42), and leaves them perilously close to that fundamental rebellion against God which cannot be forgiven (vv. 31–32).

Set within this story of confrontation is Matthew’s longest formula-quotation (vv. 17–21), comprising the whole introductory paragraph in Isaiah’s portrait of the Servant of Yahweh (Isa 42:1–4). In context it serves as a counter-balance to the harshly polemical tone of much of the chapter. Jesus, even though he must denounce unbelief when it confronts him, is characterized essentially rather by gentleness and patient trust in God. His non-confrontational style is illustrated by his withdrawal in the face of the Pharisaic threat (vv. 15–16). At the same time, however, Matthew here adds a further strand to his messianic presentation of Jesus. He has already noted Jesus’ role as Yahweh’s servant in 8:17, and already the voice from heaven at his baptism has suggestively echoed the opening line of this long quotation. Now Matthew spells it out, and by continuing the quotation into v. 4 he points forward to the future triumph of this gentle Messiah, despite the seriousness of the opposition which he now confronts.

I described 11:25–30 as a christological high point in the gospel, and so it is in its concentrated presentation of Jesus as the unique Son of God and the embodiment of divine Wisdom. But here in ch. 12, in the more diffuse form of the continuing Galilean narrative, further christological reflections come thick and fast for the reader who is prepared to look below the narrative surface and try to understand what is at stake in the debate on Jesus’ authority as it unfolds in confrontation with the Pharisees.

1. Conflicts Over Keeping the Sabbath (12:1–14)

1At that time Jesus went through the grain fields on the sabbath. His disciples were hungry and began to pick ears of grain and eat them. 2When the Pharisees saw this they said to him, “Look, your disciples are doing something which ought not to be done on the sabbath.” 3But he replied, “Haven’t you read what David did when he and his companions were hungry, 4how he went into the house of God and ate2 the ceremonial loaves,3 which4 it was not lawful for him or his companions to eat, but only the priests? 5Or haven’t you read in the law that on the sabbath the priests in the temple violate the sabbath without incurring guilt? 6But I tell you that something greater than the temple is here. 7If you had known what this means, ‘I want mercy, not sacrifice,’ you would not have passed judgment on the guiltless. 8For the Son of Man is the Lord of the sabbath.”

9And he moved on from there and went into their synagogue.5 10And there was there a man with a paralyzed6 arm.7 So they questioned him, “Is it permissible to heal on the sabbath?” (they were planning to bring a charge against him).8 11He replied, “Which man among you, if he has one9 sheep which falls into a hole on the sabbath, will not get hold of it and pull it out? 12So how much more is a human being worth than a sheep? Well then,10 it is permissible to do good on the sabbath.” 13Then he said to the man, “Stretch out your arm.” And he stretched it out, and it was restored to health just like the other.

14The Pharisees went out and consulted together against him with a view to11 getting rid of12 him.

These two stories are both concerned with the keeping of the sabbath, a matter not only of legal debate but of national pride, the sabbath and circumcision being the most obvious distinguishing marks of the Jews as the people of God.13 This issue was remembered as a recurrent point of conflict between Jesus and the scribes (Luke 13:10–17; 14:1–6; John 5:9–18; 7:19–24; 9:14–16), though Matthew (like Mark) treats it only here. It is probably not accidental that it follows the offer of “rest” in 11:28–30, since “rest” was the declared aim of the sabbath law (Exod 23:12; Deut 5:14, etc.). Jesus’ arguments attempt to restore the “rest” to what was in danger of becoming, under the weight of scribal elaborations of the law, more a burden than a blessing.14

The controversy centers not on whether the sabbath should be observed (there is no suggestion that Jesus questioned that) but on what that observance entailed in practical terms. A key term in this section is the impersonal verb, exestin, “it is permissible, lawful,” which occurs in vv. 2 (“ought”), 4 (“lawful”), 10 and 12 (“permissible”). The OT commandment was clear, that no work was to be done. But what is “work”? OT case-law and narrative precedent provided a few guidelines,15 but it was a major concern of the scribes to work out more specific rules so that everyone could be sure what was and was not permissible. Two lengthy tractates of the Mishnah (Šabbat and ʿErubin) are devoted to such rulings, often in meticulous detail, and while these did not reach their present form until the end of the second century, they are agreed to represent in principle the sort of discussions and rulings in which Pharisaic scribes were engaged in Jesus’ day. Anyone who has not read through at least some of those two tractates will have little idea of the meticulous care, and sometimes ingenuity, which went into ensuring that every eventuality was covered and nothing was left to private judgment.

On the specific aspects of sabbath regulations raised in these two stories see comments below on vv. 1–2 (picking ears of grain) and v. 10 (healing). Fundamental to the rabbinic discussion was the agreed list (m.Šabb. 7:2)16 of 39 categories of activity which were to be classified as “work” for this purpose, some of which are very specific (“writing two letters, erasing in order to write two letters”) others so broad as to need considerable further specification (“building, pulling down”), while the last (“taking anything from one ‘domain’ [normally a private courtyard] to another”) is so open-ended as to cover a vast range of daily activities. The 39 categories of work do not explicitly include traveling, but this too was regarded as “work,” a “sabbath day’s journey” being limited to 2,000 cubits, a little over half a mile. These two rules together made sabbath life potentially so inconvenient that the Pharisees developed an elaborate system of “boundary-extensions” (ʿerubin)17 to allow more freedom of movement without violating the basic rules. The ʿerub system illustrates an essential element of all this scribal development of sabbath law: its aim was not simply to make life difficult (though it must often have seemed like that), but to work out a way in which people could cope with the practicalities of life within the limits of their very rigorous understanding of “work.” The elaboration of details is intended to leave nothing to chance, so that no one can inadvertently come anywhere near violating the law itself. Some rabbis spoke about this as “putting up a fence around the law.”

Jesus’ disagreement with this Pharisaic approach centers on two considerations. The first (which is in view in vv. 3–6 and 8) is that of authority: who has the right to declare what is and is not forbidden on the sabbath? For the christological implications of Jesus’ claim to such authority see introductory comments on 12:1–45 above. The second (developed in vv. 11–12, and cf. v. 7) is the issue of priorities: as in 5:21–48, Jesus is concerned to get behind the regulations to the original spirit and intention of God’s law. Jesus’ key pronouncements on these two issues are v. 8, “The Son of Man is the Lord of the sabbath” and v. 12b, “It is permissible to do good on the sabbath.” The effect of these two positive principles together is to call in question the whole scribal industry of sabbath-regulation; no wonder they wanted to get rid of him.18

Jesus’ critics are described as “Pharisees” in vv. 2 and 14, and the indefinite “they” of v. 10 must in context have the same reference. While Matthew has a clear tendency to single out Pharisees (often combined with scribes) as Jesus’ principal opponents both in Galilee and in Judea,19 on this particular issue the charge rings true.20 The Mishnaic regulations to which I have referred are the product of the rabbis who represented the continuing Pharisaic leadership after the destruction of the temple. The Pharisaic party existed to promote and practise the most rigorous observance of the Torah, and the scribal elaborations of the law derived from the same ideological stable (see comments on “scribes and Pharisees” in 5:20). Jesus’ “free” attitude to sabbath observance was a direct challenge to the Pharisaic understanding of what it meant to do the will of God.21

1–2 “At that time” links these stories with 11:25–30, as the same phrase linked those verses with 11:16–24. Both the theme of “rest” (see above) and that of Jesus’ “kind yoke” in contrast with the burdens of scribal demands (23:4) will be illustrated as Jesus’ understanding of the sabbath is contrasted with that of the Pharisees—note especially the “mercy” of v. 7. The grain fields (probably of wheat or barley) must have been close to the town, since the disciples are not criticized for exceeding a sabbath day’s journey, and the Pharisees themselves are depicted as present in the fields to confront them.22 The disciples’ hunger is mentioned to provide a basis for the link with the story of David in v. 3. It can hardly be taken as in itself a justification for overriding the sabbath law,23 since casual pickings from a grain field would not have contributed much toward alleviating real starvation;24 Jesus will justify their action not on the basis of need (he does not, like Mark, mention “need” in v. 3) but of his own authority. The OT law allowed the poor to go into someone’s field and pick grain by hand and eat it (Deut 23:25; cf. Lev 23:22),25 but that is not the issue here; it is specifically that of sabbath law. Picking the grain could be understood as “reaping,”26 and in order to eat it they would also have to rub the grain out of the husks (as Luke 6:1 specifically mentions) which could be understood as “threshing;” both of these activities occur in the list of 39 forbidden acts (see above); even within the OT law itself “harvesting” on the sabbath is forbidden (Exod 34:21). The Pharisees address Jesus rather than his disciples because it is understood that a teacher is responsible for his disciples’ behavior,27 and his reply will accordingly focus on his own authority, not theirs.

3–4 Jesus’ reply, presented as a single speech, consists of two related OT analogies (vv. 3–4, 5–6) together with a prophetic quotation which exposes the underlying issue (v. 7), followed by a pronouncement (v. 8) which summarizes the thrust of the earlier analogies.28 Both analogies are introduced by “Haven’t you read?” (vv. 3, 5), a formula which also occurs elsewhere to introduce a polemical or argumentative quotation from the OT (cf. 19:4; 21:16, 42; 22:31); it suggests that what Jesus is about to say should have been obvious to anyone familiar with the OT text, though in fact in all these cases there is a considerable element of creativity about the way Jesus applies the familiar text. The second analogy is drawn explicitly from “the law” (see below); the first takes up a historical narrative.29

The first analogy is with the story of David at Nob (the temporary sanctuary set up after the Philistines destroyed Shiloh), as related in 1 Sam 21:1–6. The OT narrative does not state that David himself “went into the house of God,” but that Ahimelech the priest gave him the ceremonial bread which was kept inside the sanctuary where only the priests could go. The assumption would naturally be that Ahimelech brought it out for David (or perhaps more likely gave David the old loaves which had just been replaced), but Jesus’ account, by having David himself enter the sanctuary, makes his action even bolder than the OT original. David’s irregular demand is explained by the comment that he and his men30 were hungry, as Jesus’ disciples also are (v. 1). The OT story does not mention the sabbath, but it could be inferred (and was by some later Jewish interpreters) that it took place on the sabbath since that was the day when the “bread of the presence” was regularly replaced (Lev 24:8). But what David infringed was not the sabbath law as such but the regulation that only priests were to eat the ceremonial loaves (Lev 24:9). It is David’s authority to override a legal prescription, not his attitude to the sabbath as such, which is at issue in Jesus’ argument. There would be little force in an argument which simply asserted that if the law has been broken once it can be broken again. The point is who it was who was, exceptionally, allowed to break it. Ahimelech’s willingness to bend the rules must be related to his assumption that David, as not only the king’s emissary but also himself the anointed successor to Saul, and now engaged on a holy mission (1 Sam 21:4–5), stood in a category apart from other Israelites. It was David, as David, who was permitted to do what was not lawful; and now Jesus places his own authority alongside that of David. Matthew, as the evangelist who most often portrays Jesus as “son of David,” is the more likely to have appreciated the force of this christological argument.31 Such a logic seems required here by the following analogy (v. 5), which also speaks of those whose special position allowed them to do what others might not do. The concluding declaration that “something greater is here” (v. 6) may then be seen as implied here too: something greater than David is here.32 In 22:41–45 Jesus will argue that the Messiah is more than just a son of David, and that claim is applied in a veiled form to establish his special authority here.

5–6 The second analogy is not with a specific narrative but with a principle in the OT legal code (note “in the law,” as opposed to the lesser authority of the Book of Samuel); in rabbinic terms, we move now from haggadah to halakhah. It is not stated what specific “violation of the sabbath” is in view here, but the regular duties of the priests serving in the temple involved them in what for others would have been classed as “work,”33 particularly in the offering of sacrifices, with all the preparation and butchery involved (Num 28:9–10), and in the changing of the ceremonial loaves (Lev 24:5–8).34 Their “guiltlessness” does not need to be argued in the law: the mere fact that the law requires these actions indicates that they are in accordance with God’s will. The basis for this exception is in who they are (the priests, appointed for this divine service) and the institution which requires it (the temple, as the focal point of God’s presence among his people). It is a matter of priorities, the authority of the office and the necessity of the service overriding the sabbath rules which for other people and other purposes remain inviolable.35

This time the logic is explicit: “something greater than the temple is here.” It is hard to overestimate the shock value of this pronouncement. The tabernacle set up under God’s directions in the wilderness, and the fixed temple which had succeeded it, were understood to be the focus of God’s relation with his people. The temple was more than a place of worship. It was a symbol of nationhood (and the more so since political power had been assumed by Rome). Its priestly establishment was the nearest thing Israel still possessed to a government of its own. To threaten the temple, as Jeremiah had discovered long ago, was to commit unpardonable treason. As the story of Jesus unfolds, his negative attitude to the temple and its activities (21:12–16, 18–22; 23:38; 24:1–2) will become the central symbol of his challenge to the status quo (see 21:23–27), and the issue which above all will unite the people against him. At his trial it will play a central role (26:60–61) and on the cross it will still be thrown against him (27:40). But in the discourse of ch. 24 Jesus will explain how the coming destruction of the temple symbolizes the end of the old order, and in 27:51 the tearing of the temple curtain shows that that time has now come. This preliminary comment in 12:6 is a pointer to a recurrent and disturbing theme in Matthew’s portrayal of what the coming of the kingship of God must mean for Israel and for the sacred institution which lies at its ideological heart.36

But if the analogies concern the actions of people (David and the priests), why does Jesus speak in the neuter of “something greater”?37 Here in v. 6 this might be explained formally by the fact that the immediate point of comparison is an institution, the temple, not a person. But when a very similar formula is used again in vv. 41 and 42 the point of comparison will be individual people of the OT, Jonah and Solomon, yet the neuter is found there as well. Both here and there it is the authority of Jesus himself which is immediately at issue, but not so much Jesus in his own person as in his role, as now (in comparison with priest, prophet and king in the OT) the true mediator between God and his people; such a role is something new. Here in v. 6, where the contrast is with the temple rather than with a person, the neuter is perhaps also intended to point beyond Jesus himself to the new principle of God’s relationship with his people which will result from Jesus’ ministry, a principle which will remain embodied in the community of his disciples even when Jesus himself is no longer present. This at least seems to have been the conclusion drawn by other NT writers, who can speak of the church corporately as now constituting God’s true temple (1 Cor 3:16–17; 1 Peter 2:5).

7 A third OT argument offers not an analogy but a basic prophetic principle which justifies Jesus’ less formal approach to sabbath observance.38 Hos 6:6 has already been quoted against the Pharisees in 9:13 when they objected to Jesus’ loose attitude to the purity laws as shown in his eating with sinners. Here the specific issue is different, but the principle is the same: in God’s scale of priorities a positive concern for the good of others (“mercy”)39 takes precedence over formal compliance with ritual regulations. Jesus quotes from Hosea a maxim which matches in its radical open-endedness his own pronouncement in the following story (v. 12): “It is permissible to do good on the sabbath.” For the text quoted, and for the underlying principle with its wide attestation in the prophets and psalms, see on 9:13.40

The brief maxim, “I want mercy, not sacrifice,” is given here without an explicit quotation formula, and presented simply as a well-known saying. No doubt the Pharisees “knew” it, but they had not grasped its practical implications. If they had, Jesus argues, they would not have raised this petty objection against his disciples’ behavior. By calling his disciples “guiltless” Jesus assumes what he has not in fact argued directly, that their action was in fact “permissible.” His explicit argument has so far been concerned with his own authority to declare what may and may not be done, and v. 8 will conclude also on that note. But to call the disciples “guiltless” also suggests that the Pharisaic interpretation of the sabbath law was in itself wrong. They had found guilt where God saw none. The direct echo of the same word in v. 5 (the priests who work on the sabbath are also “guiltless”) implicitly claims for Jesus’ verdict the same divine sanction as the law had provided for the priests.41

8 For “the Son of Man” see on 8:20, where I argued that here it denotes Jesus himself, in his earthly ministry, as “a figure of unique authority.” Dan 7:13–14, from which the title almost certainly derives, is a vision of universal authority over all peoples exercised by the “one like a son of man” from his heavenly throne. Here, as in 9:6 (see comments there), that future authority is anticipated; the Son of Man is already “Lord.” As in 9:6, some interpreters have argued that in these references to authority on earth the phrase “son of man” originally carried42 its generic sense rather than being a title for Jesus alone, so that this saying would have meant in effect, “Human beings are in control of the sabbath.” This is sometimes justified by comparison with the saying which precedes it in Mark (but not in Matthew), “the sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath.” (Mark 2:27) But that saying does not use the phrase “the son of man.” Moreover, Matthew’s omission of that saying suggests that he did not regard it as the basis for his v. 8; indeed it is more likely that he omitted it because it seemed to him to be potentially in conflict with the unique authority attributed to “the Son of Man.” After vv. 3–6 it would be a strange non sequitur to claim a general human freedom to dispense with sabbath law. The argument has been that Jesus, as Jesus (“something greater”), alone has the authority to interpret that law for his disciples, and it is in that sense that he, not they (or the Pharisees), is “Lord of the sabbath.”

In that case this concluding pronouncement43 is christologically even more daring than what has preceded it in vv. 3–6. Not only is the Son of Man greater than David and the temple, but he is “Lord” of the institution which is traced in the OT to God’s direct command (Gen 2:3), enshrined in the decalogue which is the central codification of God’s requirements for his people, and described by God as “my sabbath” (Exod 31:13; Lev 19:3, 30; Isa 56:4 etc.; cf. the recurrent phrase “a sabbath to/for Yahweh,” Exod 16:23; 20:10; 35:2, etc.). Against that backgrond to speak of humanity in general as “lord of the sabbath” would be unthinkable; to speak of an individual human being as such is to make the most extraordinary claim to an authority on a par with that of God himself.44

9 The second sabbath story is presented as a direct sequel to the first, occurring on the same day and involving presumably the same group of Pharisees, who are introduced in v. 10 simply as “they” but again identified as “the Pharisees” in v. 14. We have heard of Jesus’ presence and teaching in “their synagogues” more generally (4:23; 9:35), but this is the first account of a specific synagogue visit, even though this was presumably Jesus’ regular practice (so Luke 4:16). In this case “their synagogue” should probably be taken as that of Capernaum, Jesus’ normal base in Galilee (4:13; 8:5; 9:1). The use of “their” here for a single synagogue is perhaps more sign ificant than in places where the plural has a more clearly geographical connotation (see p. 150, n. 7). Geographically the synagogue at Capernaum was as much Jesus’ local synagogue as it was “theirs,” but Matthew’s use of the the possessive probably begins to hint at the growing rift between Jesus and the synagogue establishment, which vv. 1–8 have just illustrated. The Pharisaic group no doubt had a leading role in the local synagogue (23:2, 6–7 and cf. 6:2, 5), and may not have been reluctant to have it described as “theirs”!

10 In this case the Pharisees, instead of criticizing after the event, take the initiative in raising the issue of sabbath observance in the form of a test-case. This aspect of Matthew’s telling of the story stands out in contrast to Mark and Luke, both of whom refer only to the Pharisees’ unspoken criticisms which Jesus then brings into the open. Matthew does not say that the Pharisees had brought the man with the paralyzed arm to the synagogue specifically for this purpose, but their question, though phrased as a general inquiry, is clearly a challenge as to how Jesus will deal with this specific case—there were presumably other people in bad health in the synagogue, but only one is mentioned. Matthew’s parenthetical comment, “they were planning to bring a charge against him,” does not allow us to read this as a purely academic debate.

In all the gospel accounts of sabbath controversies except the grain-field incident the specific issue is healing (though in John 5:10 there is also the issue of the healed man carrying his sleeping-mat). Healing was not in itself included among the 39 forbidden acts, and was less easy to associate with one of them, especially as Jesus’ method of healing usually involved little or no physical action, and in this case was simply a word of command. But Mishnaic discussions assume, as do the scribes and Pharisees in the gospel stories,45 that healing is not allowed on the sabbath,46 and simply discuss when an exception might be permitted. This was normally only where there was imminent danger of death (m. Yoma 8:6); assistance in childbirth was also permitted (m. Šab. 18:3), presumably because it could not be postponed until the next day.47 There is no such urgency in any of Jesus’ sabbath healings, and that is particularly obvious in the test-case here chosen: a paralyzed arm, though very inconvenient, is not a threat to life, and the healing can safely be left until tomorrow.

11–12 Jesus appeals not to a legal authority but to the practical common sense which normal people would follow—“Which man among you?”, while it is formally addressed to the Pharisees, is surely intended to be heard and reflected on by everyone in the synagogue. It so happens that we have extant records relating to just this situation both in rabbinic discussion and in a ruling at Qumran.48 The latter (CD 11:13–14)49 is unequivocal: “No one may help an animal to give birth on the sabbath; and if it falls into a well or into a pit he may not lift it out on the sabbath.” But the rabbinic discussion, which comes from a later period (b. Šabb. 128b), shows a different spirit: some said that articles might be thrown into the hole to allow the animal to climb out, others that it might be fed on the sabbath but lifted out the next day, but a concluding ruling is that the relief of animal suffering should be allowed to override the sabbath regulation. The instinct which led to this later ruling (together with the less altruistic desire to protect a valuable asset!) was evidently already prevalent in Jesus’ time in common practice, so that Jesus could take it for granted and assume that the Pharisees would not object to it. The further assumption, which appears to need no argument, that a human being is more important than an animal (echoing a point already made; see comments at 6:26 and cf. 10:31) then establishes a fortiori the permissibility of measures for human welfare, and thus of healing, on the sabbath. While it might be argued that there is a more urgent need for the rescue of the animal than for the healing of the arm, we are not told that the point was contested.

The corollary that “it is permissible to do good on the sabbath” goes far beyond the specific issue under discussion. Its very lack of specificity is in striking contrast to the rabbinic desire to leave nothing to individual judgment. As a guide to sabbath observance it could result in widely divergent practice, and it lends itself to use as a convenient self-justification for any chosen course of action. What especially distinguishes it from the rabbinic rulings, and indeed from most of the OT laws themselves, is that it is positive rather than prohibitive. Like Jesus’ version of the Golden Rule (7:12) it puts the onus on the individual to decide what is “good” and how it may or may not be squared with the equally “good” aim of the sabbath law, to provide a day of holiness and rest.

13 As in several other healing stories (8:5–13; 9:1–8; 15:21–28), the actual cure is related quite briefly; the focus of interest is on the dialogue which leads up to it rather than on the healing in itself—or, to use the terms of traditional form-criticism, this is a pronouncement-story rather than a miracle story. But the dialogue has set up a dramatic tension, and Jesus’ decisive command resolves that tension in favor of “doing good” over against the Pharisaic rules. The healing, as usual with Jesus, is instantaneous. It is also purely verbal, so that no visible “work” is involved. It results from the man’s obedience to Jesus’ command. How far that obedience is a sign of faith depends on the nature and extent of the paralysis: if it was the whole arm that was paralyzed, Jesus has told him to do something impossible in stretching it out, but if it was only the hand the stretching out was not in itself remarkable. Matthew does not satisfy our curiosity on this point.

14 The healing, in front of the synagogue congregation, was very public (a point which Mark and Luke make explicit: “Get up and stand in the middle”), and the Pharisees’ challenge has drawn extra attention to it. We might then have expected to find here, as with previous miracles, a comment on the crowd’s reaction of astonishment and/or recognition of Jesus’ unique authority. That will indeed be noted in v. 15, but Matthew’s immediate interest is elsewhere. Jesus has taken up the Pharisees’ challenge and thrown it back at them. He has further underlined his radical disagreement with their approach to sabbath observance and thus disputed their authority to pronounce on the subject. This is enough to extinguish any lingering respect they may have had for Jesus, and to set them on a collision course. “Went out” may be no more than a narrative link, but perhaps Matthew intends us to understand that they have lost control of “their synagogue” (v. 9) “because of Jesus’ overwhelming authority in the synagogue after the healing.”50 How far their consultation might have reached at this stage is hard to judge. A group of local Pharisees in Galilee is a very different constituency from the formal body of “chief priests and elders of the people” (21:23; 26:3; sometimes also with “scribes”, 21:15; 26:57) who will confront him and eventually bring about his condemnation and execution in Jerusalem. Even though in theory the penalty for sabbath-breaking was death (Exod 31:14–15; m. Sanh. 7:4), it was hardly realistic for these Pharisees to think of having Jesus officially executed in Galilee, and Matthew’s verb “get rid of” (see p. 454, n. 12) need not carry that specific sense. They are determined to silence him, to put an end to his influence on the people, but how that might be achieved would probably not yet be clear, though the intention to “bring a charge against” Jesus (v. 10) indicates one possible way forward. When eventually Jesus is “got rid of” in ch. 27, it will not be by these particular enemies, though their reports to their colleagues in Jerusalem may have helped to start the process.

2. Jesus Withdraws from Confrontation (12:15–21)

15When Jesus knew of this he withdrew1 from there. Many people2 followed him, and he healed them all, 16and he warned3 them not to tell others about him. 17This was to fulfill what had been declared through Isaiah the prophet, who said,

18“Look, this is my servant whom I have chosen,

my beloved with whom my soul is delighted.4

I will put my spirit upon him,

and he will be a messenger of justice5 to the nations.6

19He will not quarrel or shout aloud;

no one will hear his voice in the streets.

20He will not break a damaged reed,

and he will not put out a smoking wick,

until he has brought justice right through7 to victory;8

21and in his name the nations will place their hope.”

Immediately after the two sabbath stories Mark has a lengthy summary of Jesus’ continuing ministry and the popular reaction to it (Mark 3:7–12). Matthew offers a very much abbreviated version (see comments below on vv. 15–16), which he uses as the cue for his longest formula quotation, a slightly abbreviated version of Isa 42:1–4 in a version markedly different from that of the LXX. This is the passage which introduces the intriguing and very important figure of “my [Yahweh’s] servant” into the deliverance oracles of Deutero-Isaiah, and provides a broad overview of the nature of that servant’s role in Yahweh’s purpose of salvation. Matthew has already included a “servant” quotation from later in the Isaianic prophecies to illustrate his account of Jesus’ healing ministry (8:17), and further allusions to Isa 53 will be included in Jesus’ explanation of his own role in 20:28; 26:28. He has also already included a prominent allusion to the present passage in his account of Jesus’ baptism (3:17; see also on 3:15 for a further possible allusion to Isa 53), and the same allusion will be repeated at 17:5. Most of these allusions are to Isa 53, which highlights the vicarious suffering of the servant, which is the main focus of NT interest in this figure. In Isa 42 this motif has not yet been introduced, but, as we noted at 8:17, Matthew’s interest in Jesus as the servant is not limited only to his redemptive death but embraces also the general character of his ministry.

In view of this persistent influence of the “servant” ideology of Deutero-Isaiah,9 Matthew might have introduced a quotation of Isa 42:1–4 at almost any point in his account of Jesus’ ministry. Much of what these verses contain (the servant as God’s chosen, his endowment with the spirit, his mission of justice and the hope of the nations) echoes themes which apply broadly throughout the gospel.10 But this portrait contains too (in vv. 19–20) a less triumphant note: a gentle, non-confrontational attitude, an avoidance of publicity, and a patient ministry of encouragement rather than denunciation. It is this aspect of the quotation11 for which Matthew has prepared in his brief précis of Mark’s summary: Jesus has withdrawn in the face of hostility and is anxious to prevent people forcing the issue of his Messiahship by inappropriate publicity. Controversies will continue in vv. 22–45, and the atmosphere will become even more highly charged, but by inserting this quotation here Matthew helps his readers to put the confrontation in context: it is not of the Messiah’s choosing.12

15–16 These verses perform a function similar to that of the summary in 8:16, which introduces the other “servant” formula quotation. From Mark’s longer general account (Mark 3:7–12) Matthew retains just four motifs, greatly abbreviated: Jesus’ withdrawal, a large crowd of people following him (in contrast with the Pharisees), general healing, and the demand for silence. But Jesus’ “withdrawal” (see p. 466, n. 1), which in Mark is left unexplained, is here attributed, as in 4:12, to his awareness that he is under threat. In 14:13 and 15:21 a similar point will be made, and the repeated motif seems too obvious to ignore: Jesus is taking precautions to avoid premature confrontation. When the time comes for the show-down in Jerusalem he will not hold back, but for now he has a wider ministry to fulfill. If controversy is forced on him he will respond vigorously, but he takes care to avoid initiating it. Jesus’ withdrawal reflects the instruction he has already given to his disciples to move on when they meet a hostile reception (10:14, 23).

The mention of crowds and healing has a formulaic feel.13 As in 8:16 (compare Mark 1:34) Matthew’s “all” in place of Mark’s “many” gives a more broadbrush impression; Matthew prefers not to suggest that there were any who failed to find healing with Jesus.14 Matthew’s summary has omitted any specific mention of exorcism, which in Mark 3:11–12 is the context for Jesus’ demand for silence: it was the expelled demons who recognized him as the Son of God and had to be silenced. In Matthew, therefore, the demand for secrecy lacks an explanation. In 16:20 and 17:9 Matthew will emphasize as strongly as Mark Jesus’ demand for secrecy with regard to his Messiahship, but, as we have noted at 8:4 and 9:30, in relation to healings and exorcisms this motif is much less important to Matthew than to Mark. Its almost perfunctory appearance here, with no indication of just what it was about Jesus that was to be kept secret, suggests, as we noted at 9:30, that it is “more like an occasional relic of a prominent Marcan theme than an issue that was important also to Matthew himself.” In this context, however, Matthew has retained it because it provides a link with the assertion of Isa 42:2 that the servant will not make a lot of noise, and “no one will hear his voice in the streets.”

Withdrawal from conflict and a desire for secrecy therefore provide the cue for the long quotation that follows. But Isaiah’s portrait of Yahweh’s servant goes far beyond that one element, and the length of the quotation makes it clear that Matthew wants his readers to see it all, not just the secrecy element, as a blueprint for Jesus’ ministry. Indeed, the following section, vv. 22–37, when the controversy is resumed, will take up Isaiah’s language about the Spirit resting on the servant (v. 18) as the role of the Spirit in Jesus’ ministry becomes the object of scrutiny.15

17–21 This long formula-quotation relates to the specific situation outlined in vv. 15–16, but also provides a fuller overview of Jesus’ ministry as a whole, as it conforms to Isaiah’s vision of God’s ideal servant. Apart from the omission of Isa 42:4a-b (“He will not grow faint or be discouraged until he has established justice on the earth”),16 Matthew quotes the whole of Isa 42:1–4, but in a version which at most points is almost as different from the LXX as it is possible to be while translating the same Hebrew. In v. 1 he is closer to the Hebrew in that he leaves the servant unidentified, whereas the LXX adds the names “Jacob” and “Israel,” but generally his version is the more free17—“I have chosen” for “I uphold” in the first line of v. 1; “beloved” for “chosen” in the next line; “be a messenger of” for “bring out” in the last line; “quarrel” for “shout” in v. 2; “to victory” for “truly/faithfully”18 in v. 3. In v. 4c, however, he agrees essentially with the LXX “In his name the nations will place their hope” against the Hebrew “In his law the islands will place their hope.” None of these variations involve major differences of meaning, and Matthew’s version, whether his own creation or drawn from a Greek version now unknown to us, is a reasonable independent rendering of the general sense of the Hebrew.19 We shall note below the points where his version seems to have particular relevance to the story of Jesus.20

18 It is interesting that despite the widespread interest of Matthew and the other NT writers in Jesus as the Isaianic servant, the actual title pais, “servant,” is used for Jesus only here and in Acts 3:13, 26; 4:27, 30.21 We have noted at 3:17 the echo of the opening words of Isa 42:1 in the heavenly voice at Jesus’ baptism, where the term “beloved” (agapētos) reflects the non-LXX version Matthew here quotes.22 By moving the idea of choice from the second line to the first (in place of God’s “upholding”) Matthew’s version emphasizes the special appointment of God’s chosen servant,23 and the double expression of love/delight in the second line then reinforces the unique closeness of the relationship in a way which reminds us of 11:27. God’s “pleasure” in his servant is in marked contrast to the attitude of the Pharisees in vv. 1–14. The endowment with God’s spirit (the importance of which will become clear in vv. 28–32), already visually enacted at 3:16, is linked in Isa 61:1 with the idea of anointing, and Matthew’s readers would have had no difficulty in identifying the mysterious “servant” of Isaiah with the promised anointed one, the Messiah of whose work of deliverance and proclamation we have been reminded in 11:5. There may well also be an echo of Isa 61:1–2 in Matthew’s version of the last line of v. 1, which makes the servant a messenger of justice; so also the anointed one of Isa 61:1 proclaims good news to the poor (cf. 11:5), release to the captives and the year of God’s favor. “Justice” (see p. 467, n. 5) here conveys that wider sense of the working out of God’s good purpose for his people, rather than merely the legal sense of giving a right verdict. But the messenger of Isa 61 is sent to Zion, and the message there is of national restoration, whereas in Isa 42:1 it is the nations who will be the beneficiaries of the justice which the servant brings.24 By following the LXX in finding “the nations” also explicitly in v. 4 Matthew ensures that his readers do not miss the theme of a gospel for the Gentiles which has been steadily developing throughout his gospel and will reach its climax in 28:19. This extension of God’s purpose beyond Israel was not a new decision by God at the time of Jesus, but part of his long-declared purpose of salvation which Jesus, his “beloved,” has now come to implement.

19 The Hebrew uses two verbs as virtual synonyms for “shout” (the second being “lift” with “his voice” in the following clause as the understood object). By using erizō, “quarrel” or “wrangle,” for the first verb Matthew makes it clear how this text applies to Jesus, who has just withdrawn to avoid a further “shouting-match” with the Pharisees. In Jerusalem in chs. 21–23 Jesus will not be reluctant to provoke argument and opposition as he lays down his final challenge to the authorities there, but here in Galilee his style is different. This is a time for discretion and secrecy; when controversy comes in Galilee, it will not be Jesus who initiates it. When the confrontation reaches its climax in Jerusalem, we will again be reminded of Jesus’ non-violence and silence in the face of official hostility (26:52–56, 62–63; 27:12–14).

20–21 A reed was used for measuring and for support, so that once its straightness was lost by bending or cracking it was of no further use. A strip of linen cloth used as a lamp-wick, if it smokes, is no use for giving light and is simply a source of pollution; it is in danger of going out altogether. Common sense would demand that both be replaced, the reed being snapped and discarded or burned and the wick extinguished. The imagery thus describes an extraordinary willingness to encourage damaged or vulnerable people, giving them a further opportunity to succeed which a results-oriented society would deny them. The servant will not be quick to condemn and to discard, but will persevere until God’s purpose of “justice” has been achieved.25 Here Matthew finds a further portrait of the meek and lowly Jesus who offers a kind yoke and a light burden, the giver of rest to the toiling and heavily loaded (11:28–30). His rewording of the last clause of Isa 42:3 (see nn. 7 and 16 above) emphasizes the patient perseverance which will eventually bring success (“victory”), and thus compensates for his abbreviation of the quotation by omitting Isa 42:4a-b, “He will not grow faint or be discouraged until he has established justice on the earth.” This positive orientation, and the note of “hope” with which the quotation ends, provides a wholesome contrast with the critical opposition which Jesus has been facing and will shortly encounter even more forcefully.

3. The Accusation of Using Demonic Power (12:22–37)

22Then a demon-possessed man was brought to him who was blind and dumb,1 and he healed him, so that the dumb man could both speak and see. 23All the crowds were astonished and asked, “Can this man really be the Son of David?”2 24But the Pharisees heard this, and said, “This man could not throw out demons except by the power of3 Beelzebul, the ruler of the demons.” 25Jesus knew4 what they were thinking and said to them, “Every kingdom which is divided against itself is laid waste and no town or household which is divided against itself can survive. 26And if Satan throws out Satan he is divided against himself; so then how could his kingdom survive? 27And if it is by the power of Beelzebul that I throw out the demons, by whose power do your sons throw them out? Therefore it is they who will be your judges. 28But if it is by the power of the Spirit of God that I throw out the demons, then the kingdom of God has caught up with5 you. 29Or how can anyone get into the strong man’s house to steal his possessions if he doesn’t first tie the strong man up? Then he can plunder his house.

30“Anyone who is not with me is against me, and anyone who does gather with me scatters.

31“Therefore I tell you, people may be forgiven every [other]6 sin and blasphemy, but blasphemy against7 the Spirit will not be forgiven. 32And if anyone speaks a word against the Son of Man they will be forgiven, but if anyone speaks against the Holy Spirit they will not be forgiven either in this age or in the age to come.

33“Either make the tree good and its fruit [will be]8 good, or make the tree rotten and its fruit [will be] rotten; a tree is known by its fruit. 34You brood of vipers, how can you say anything good when you yourselves are bad? For the mouth speaks what overflows from9 the heart. 35A good person produces good things from their store of good,10 and a bad person produces bad things from their store of bad. 36But I tell you that for every empty11 word that people utter they will give account on the day of judgment; 37by your12 words you will be acquitted,13 and by your words you will be condemned.”

After the brief respite of Jesus’ withdrawal, the confrontation with the Pharisees is resumed. The trigger in this case is not an act which can be criticized in itself, but the demonstration of Jesus’ authority over demonic possession leads to polarized opinions, the crowd in general discussing whether Jesus is the Messiah, but the Pharisees, unable to deny his power, questioning its source. It is their outrageous allegation which provokes Jesus into a withering response, in part consisting of reasoned argument (vv. 25–29), but leading on to a quite melodramatic warning of the possible consequences of their entrenched refusal to recognize his divine authority for what it is.

The allegation that Jesus is drawing on demonic power has already been briefly noted in 9:34 (though without naming Beelzebul), and Jesus’ comment in 10:25 on people calling the master of the house (himself) Beelzebul has kept the issue alive. Now it is confronted head-on. Some such charge remained for some centuries a staple element in rabbinic Jewish polemic against Jesus as a magician who by his black arts “led Israel astray.”14 It assumes the reality of a supernatural power, but questions its nature and origin. We have therefore moved beyond “academic” debate on the validity of Jesus’ teaching and practice to the realm of personal abuse and character assassination. The accusation of complicity with the devil is not only extremely offensive, but is intended to destroy Jesus’ credibility in the eyes of a God-fearing public. It is also potentially extremely serious, since sorcery was, according to the Mishnah, a capital offense.15 But it is a step too far, as Jesus’ reply will warn them. Not only is the accusation in itself patently ridiculous (vv. 25–29); it also indicates a fundamental choice to take sides against Jesus (v. 30) and, even more seriously, against the Spirit of God by whose authority he acts (vv. 31–32); by making this accusation they have revealed their true character, and will be judged for it (vv. 33–37). The Pharisees are playing with fire.

The complex of sayings which make up the first part of Jesus’ response (vv. 25–32) is essentially paralleled in Mark 3:23–30, though Matthew’s version includes some additional material in vv. 27–28 and 30. Those additional sayings appear also in the more concise parallel in Luke 11:17–23, but Luke’s equivalent to the Marcan saying about the unforgivable sin occurs in a different context in 12:10. It seems, then, that a number of apologetic and polemical sayings were preserved which related to this theme, and each of the evangelists put them together in a different way. Within Matthew’s version there is a clear coherence to vv. 25–29, which respond directly, though in a number of different ways, to the Beelzebul charge, while v. 30 (which has a sort of parallel in Mark 9:40) and the saying about the unforgivable sin in vv. 31–32 may have been originally independent. If so, Mark certainly understood the latter to relate specifically to the Beelzebul accusation (hence his editorial comment in 3:30), and Matthew, by retaining it in the same setting, supports this interpretation. As we shall see below, to recognize the specific setting of this troubling saying may be important for its proper understanding.

Matthew then continues Jesus’ speech with a further complex of sayings (vv. 33–37) which recall the warning against false prophets in 7:16–20, but which also include some further material which Luke has included in his parallel to Matt 7:16–20 (Luke 6:43–45), and which then conclude with a saying about judgment not paralleled elsewhere (vv. 36–37). It seems, then, that Matthew has added to the Beelzebul controversy a further compilation16 of polemical sayings of Jesus in order to underline the seriousness of the warning Jesus has uttered in vv. 31–32. The Pharisees cannot shrug off their scandalous accusation in v. 24 as “mere words,” because words, no less than deeds, reveal the true nature of the person who utters them. So the catastrophic judgment implicit in the saying of vv. 31–32 can properly be based even on “mere words.” The “words” of v. 37 help to link this little paragraph to the preceding context by recalling the “word” spoken against the Holy Spirit in v. 32 (vv. 34 and 36 also focus on speech as the basis of judgment).

22 As in 12:9–14, the miracle itself is related extremely briefly. Its importance is rather in the confrontation which results from it. The story here is like that already narrated in 9:32–34, repeated in order to introduce Jesus’ response to the Pharisees’ accusation, but now with the added complication of blindness. It is clear that Jesus was known as an exorcist as well as a physical healer, and Matthew specifically mentions exorcisms in some of his summaries of the ministry of Jesus and his disciples (4:24; 8:16; 10:1, 8; but not in 9:35; 11:5; 12:15). Specific exorcism stories have been included in 8:28–34 and 9:32–34, and more will follow in 15:21–28 and 17:14–20. The present case is therefore representative of a recognized aspect of Jesus’ ministry, and the minimal detail given underlines its representative character. see on 4:24 for the distinction between “healing” a physical complaint and “throwing out” a demon; here (as in 9:32 and 17:15) the demon-possession is manifested in physical complaints, but whereas in those stories the expulsion of the demon is specifically mentioned (9:33; 17:18) here Matthew’s abbreviated narrative mentions only the “healing” which was the visible effect. It is clear, however, from the following accusation and debate that neither Jesus nor the onlookers had any doubt that this was a case of possession and exorcism, not a physical healing alone.

23 The crowd’s astonishment is a standard motif (9:8, 26, 33), though this time a stronger verb is used. This time too the crowd reaction goes beyond the broader comment that “Nothing like this has ever been seen in Israel” (9:33) to a more specific speculation. Much has been said of Jesus’ unique authority (7:29; 9:8) but this is the first time specifically messianic language has been used in a crowd scene (though the blind men’s use of the title “Son of David” in 9:27 already indicates at least one strand of popular reaction to Jesus). They are beginning to draw the conclusion which Jesus had expected John the Baptist to draw from his miracles (11:2–6). The immediate juxtaposition of this acclamation with the Pharisees’ accusation suggests that the latter have recognized the dangerous state of public response to Jesus, and decide to stamp on it before it is too late. For the messianic implications of the title “Son of David” see on 9:27 and see nn. 21, 22 there for its association with healing.17 The uncertainty expressed by the form of the question (see p. 473, n. 2 above) may be in part owing to the fact that Jesus, for all his unmistakable authority in healing and teaching, has shown no inclination to fulfill the more political aspect of popular Davidic expectation.

24 The positive reaction of the crowd is set in stark contrast to the determined opposition of the Pharisees; the same phenomena lead them to an opposite conclusion, because their minds are already made up. “When they heard this” confirms that the Pharisees are deliberately (and presumably publicly) countering the messianic interpretation which the crowd have tentatively put on Jesus’ miraculous power. The accusation made in 9:34 is repeated but more vividly and offensively (see 10:25) in that this time the “ruler of the demons” is named.

“Beelzebul” seems to be an alternative popular name for Satan (the term Jesus uses in responding to the charge, v. 26). The name does not occur in earlier Jewish writings;18 the commonest name for the chief demon is Satan, but we find also Belial, Beliar, Mastema and Azazel. The form Beelzeboul (some MSS omit the first l) suggests an original link with the Canaanite god Baal, and a possible Hebrew derivation of the name would be Baʿal-z^ebûl, “Baal (lord) of the height” or “of the house,”19 but how such a title came to be applied to Satan is a matter of speculation.20 There is no clear link with the Philistine god Baʿal-z^ebûb, “Lord of flies,” in 2 Kgs 1:2–16, though this could have been a derogatory corruption of Baʿal-z^ebûl.21

Supernatural power demands a supernatural source, and if they are not prepared to admit that it is divine, there is only one alternative. There is clear evidence of popular belief that sorcerers operated through a “familiar spirit” (see n. 15 above), but to identify that spirit as no less than the chief demon himself was to raise the charge to an ominous level.

25–26 “Jesus knew what they were thinking” is surprising after what sounds like a public charge (to counter the crowd’s unacceptable suggestion) in v. 24; contrast 9:4, where the charge was apparently as yet unspoken. Does Matthew want us to understand that the Pharisees were merely muttering in a corner, or does he mean that Jesus not only heard the accusation but also discerned the motivation which gave rise to it? Probably the latter, since Jesus’ response will in vv. 30–32 go beyond the specific charge made and deal with the underlying mindset of his opponents. “Jesus sees through his opponents.” (Luz, 2.203)

Jesus’ first counter-argument is the common-sense point that it is absurd to imagine that the demon king would attack and defeat his own demonic forces. This would mean civil war in the demonic kingdom, and that can only be a recipe for disaster, as human experience of divided loyalties illustrates. Note that Satan (for the name see on 4:1) is assumed to have a “kingdom,” which we will hear in v. 28 is under attack from the “kingdom of God.” The term “kingdom” here carries its normal dynamic sense of “rule:” Satan cannot for long remain king if his forces are divided. For Satan’s claim to kingship in the world see on 4:8–9; cf. also Rev 2:13, where Satan has a “throne.”

27 The second argument is ad hominem. Jesus takes it for granted that genuine exorcisms are taking place in Jewish circles unconnected with himself; “your sons” need not mean the actual sons of those he is speaking to, but “members of your community.” For NT examples of such exorcists see Mark 9:38; Acts 19:13–14, and see the introductory comments on 8:28–34 for the acceptance and approval of exorcism in the Jewish and pagan worlds of the time. The uniqueness of Jesus’ exorcistic ministry (9:33, and implied here in the suggestion that he may be “Son of David” in v. 23) consists in the nature and authority of his exorcisms, not in the lack of any other exorcists. Exorcism, as distinct from physical healing, presupposes a hostile supernatural force which can be countered only by a more powerful spiritual authority, and Jewish exorcists were understood to be acting by the power of God. The Pharisees can be assumed to be as much in favor of the practice as other Jews; why then should Jesus’ exorcisms be any more sinister?

28 The spiritual nature of Jesus’ exorcisms is now made more explicit: it is by the Spirit of God that they are performed. In v. 18 we have been reminded of the endowment with God’s Spirit as the basis of the servant’s ministry, and in 3:16 the visible coming of the Spirit upon Jesus has launched him on it. While actual exorcism narratives do not elsewhere refer directly to the Spirit, preferring to focus simply on Jesus’ own authoritative word of command, within the framework of Matthew’s story the reader naturally understands that Jesus’ special authority derives from his endowment with the Spirit. Luke here has the vivid image of “the finger of God,” an echo of the source of Moses’ miraculous power in Exod 8:19, but Matthew needs the more direct reference to the Spirit not only as a pick-up from v. 18 but also particularly as the basis for the charge which Jesus will level against the Pharisees in vv. 31–32: they are deliberately denigrating the work not just of a human being, but of the Spirit of God.

This deployment of the Spirit’s power is not merely a means of combating demonic possession, but also a sign of something more far-reaching, the establishment of God’s kingship in place of that of Satan (v. 26). This is the second of five22 occasions where Matthew speaks of the “the kingdom of God” rather than his normal phrase “the kingdom of heaven” (cf. 19:24; 21:31, 43). I suggested at 6:33 that such departures from normal usage are “because the context requires a more ‘personal’ reference to God himself rather than the more oblique language of his heavenly authority.” That reference is required here not only to balance “Spirit of God” in the first half of the saying, but also because of the preceding reference to “Satan’s kingdom” (v. 26); Jesus’ saying thus vividly contrasts the personal kings of the two kingdoms. But the coming of God’s kingship, which is a cause for joy to those who embrace it, is a threat to those who oppose his will; so it has “caught up with” the Pharisees, breaking uncomfortably into their cosily controlled world of tradition and turning everything upside down. It is not they but Jesus, as the Messiah in whose coming God’s kingship is established, who now represents the true focus of divine authority on earth. Note how the aorist tense of phthanō, “has caught up with” (see p. 474, n. 5), carries the same implication as the perfect of engizō in 3:2; 4:17; 10:7 (see comments on 3:2): God’s kingship is already a reality.23

This powerful challenge follows strangely after v. 27. If Jesus’ exorcisms have this eschatological significance, why does the same not apply to the other Jewish exorcists who equally, it is presupposed, operate by the power of God’s Spirit (and have been doing so, presumably, long before Jesus came to announce the arrival of God’s kingship)? We noted above (p. 338) that while there were other exorcists operating at the time there is no record in extant literature of anyone else who carried out exorcisms on such a scale and with such decisive authority, as opposed to the often bizarre rituals to which other exorcists resorted. This special character of Jesus’ exorcisms (“something completely new and qualitatively different,” Luz, 2.124), combined with the overall tenor of his ministry and its note of unique authority, perhaps accounts for the boldness of this claim.24 The following saying underlines the point.

29 The robbing of the strong man recalls the imagery of Isa 49:24–25, where it symbolizes God’s rescue of his people from their oppressors. This little parable is left uninterpreted, but the context in which it is set leaves little doubt of its meaning for Matthew.25 Jesus’ exorcisms, far from being in collusion with Satan, are a direct assault on his “possessions”; his “kingdom” is under attack. Satan’s “strength,” as the “god of this world” (2 Cor 4:4; cf. John 12:31; 14:30; 16:11) is acknowledged (cf. 4:8–9), but now at last he has met his match. Jesus has “tied him up” and so is now free to appropriate his possessions—or, in the imagery of Isa 49:24–25, to release his captives.26 The tying up27 represents not an exorcistic technique,28 but the comprehensive superiority of Jesus’ authority over that of Satan, and so the coming into force of the kingship of God.29 It is that “tying up” that distinguishes Jesus’ all-out assault on Satan’s kingdom from the little local forays of other exorcists of the time.

30 This pithy saying clarifies the position into which the Pharisees have put themselves. It divides humanity simply into only two groups; there is no middle ground. A superficially similar saying in Mark 9:40, “Whoever is not against us is for us” (also set in a context of exorcism), equally excludes the middle ground, but has a more inclusive tone—compare the optimism of a glass “half full” as against the pessimism of “half empty.” In Mark 9:40 the subject is an exorcist who honored Jesus by using his name, even though not a recognized disciple, but here it is his most bitter opponents, who have questioned his God-given authority. The two sayings are not incompatible (Luke includes both); it is their different contexts which demand the sharply different tone. The second line of the saying makes the same point in more graphic form, possibly using the imagery of harvest or of sheep-herding:30 Jesus’ opponents are spoilers, trashing what he and his disciples have carefully put together.

31–32 The saying about an “unforgivable sin” has often been inappropriately, and sometimes disastrously, applied to contexts which have little to do with its original setting. As it appears here in Matthew it is specifically concerned with what the Pharisees have just said. In 9:3 the scribes had accused Jesus of blasphemy; now the charge is returned. For the meaning of “blasphemy” see on 9:3 (especially n. 46). The term could also be used in a less technical sense for “slander” of fellow human beings (27:39; Luke 23:39; Rom 3:8; etc.), and the use of “speak against” as a synonym for “blaspheme” in v. 32 reflects that usage, but here the reference to the Holy Spirit as the object of blasphemy requires the full religious sense of the term. The opening “therefore” indicates31 that in this context blasphemy against the Holy Spirit (see p. 474, n. 7) is to be understood in terms of the Pharisees’ charge in v. 24, attributing what is in fact the work of God’s Spirit (v. 28) to his ultimate enemy, Satan. It is thus a complete perversion of spiritual values, revealing a decisive choice of the wrong side in the battle between good and evil, between God and Satan. It is this which has shown these Pharisees to be decisively “against” Jesus (v. 30). And it is this diametrical opposition to the good purpose of God which is ultimately unforgivable. The point needs to be emphasized, since the language of this saying has sometimes been incautiously applied to real or supposed offenses “against the Holy Spirit”32 which have nothing to do with the blasphemy of these Pharisees, and serious pastoral damage has thus been caused.33 This saying is a wake-up call to the arrogant, not a bogey to frighten those of tender conscience.34

Matthew’s version of this saying combines elements found in those of Mark and Luke. Verse 31 roughly parallels Mark 3:28–29, which speaks of all other (see p. 474, n. 6) sins and blasphemies being forgivable except that against the Holy Spirit, while v. 32, like Luke 12:10 (in a different context), makes the point more specifically by contrasting the forgivable blasphemy against the Son of Man35 with the unforgivable blasphemy against the Spirit. Matthew’s use of “speak against” rather than “blaspheme” in both clauses of v. 32 (Luke has “blaspheme” in the second clause) produces a tighter comparison, but the link with v. 31 ensures that, at least with reference to the Holy Spirit, it is understood of blasphemy. But see comments below on the possibility of a less formal sense with regard to the Son of Man.

The balance of the clauses in v. 31 requires the first to be read as a foil to the second, not as a declaration in its own right.36 It is beside the point to question whether any worse sin could be imagined; the point is that blasphemy against the Holy Spirit stands out from the run of “ordinary” sins as being uniquely serious. It is to declare oneself against God.37 It is to “call evil good and good evil”. (Isa 5:20)

But if the Son of Man is Jesus, who is also the Son of God (and surely in Matthew’s gospel both these points can be taken as read), why is it less serious to speak against him? Perhaps such a question ventures too far into later trinitarian orthodoxy and too far beyond the historical circumstances of Jesus’ mission in Galilee.38 The very mysteriousness of the title “the Son of Man” (see on 8:20) indicates an element of enigma, of the truth about Jesus being not yet openly revealed (see 11:25–27), and in that situation it would be possible to “speak against” him (see above for “blaspheme” in the sense of “slander”) without being aware that one was opposing the saving purpose of God. Note the excuse of ignorance in Acts 3:17 (and cf. the distinction between unwitting and deliberate sin in Num 15:27–31). Even Peter, in the heat of the moment, would “speak against the Son of Man” (26:69–75) and still be forgiven. But the significance of Jesus’ exorcisms was plain for all to see (v. 28); there could be no excuse for misinterpreting this work of the Holy Spirit, and attributing it to Beelzebul.

“This age” and “the age to come” are Jewish terms39 which apply primarily to the contrast between this life and the next, rather than to successive phases of life on earth. “This age (aiōn)” (or in 13:22 simply “the aiōn”) denotes much the same as the term kosmos, “the world,” thought of as earthly reality apart from God. In Matthew the term is used especially in the phrase “the end (or fulfillment) of the aiōn” which we shall meet in 13:39, 40, 49; 24:3; 28:20. What follows on from that “end of the aiōn” is the “aiōn to come,” which lies the other side of the judgment. Here, then, the consequences of the unforgivable sin apply not only to this life but also to the life to come, when judgment will have been finally given.

33 The Pharisees’ malicious charge now provides the setting for some further reflections on the power and significance of words (vv. 33–37); this complex of sayings is clearly applicable to what the Phasrisees have said, but may also be more widely applied, and may originally have been preserved independently of this particular narrative setting.

The imagery of the tree and its fruit recalls 7:16–20 (using the same terms “good” and “rotten”), but this saying is much more concise, and is expressed as a second-person imperative (“make the tree good/rotten”) which probably reflects a popular proverbial style, as in our “Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile” or “Give a dog a bad name.” It can hardly be intended as an actual commmand in view of the second clause: are we exhorted to create a rotten tree? The point of the proverb is the same as in 7:16–20: a person’s true nature is perceived by how they behave. The relevance of this piece of proverbial wisdom40 in context will be drawn out in the following verses with special reference to words, whereas in 7:16–20 (see comments there) it was probably more concerned with actions.

34 The address, “brood of vipers,” seems to be a fairly general term of abuse, used of different groups also in 3:7 and 23:33, though it may be significant that in each case Pharisees are involved. In 3:7 it is taken up into the imagery of snakes escaping the fire, but here its literal meaning has no specific application. In 7:11 Jesus spoke of his hearers (disciples) as “bad” in relation to the goodness of God, but here, addressed to a more specific and clearly hostile group, “bad” is used in a more absolute sense; their “badness” (the adjective is a general term of disapproval) is revealed in the stand they have taken against God and his Messiah. Ponēros, “bad,” is also used to describe Satan as “the evil one” (13:19, 39 and see above p. 193, n. 55, and p. 231, n. 14), so that it is particularly telling in this context where it is they who have just accused Jesus of being on the side of Satan.41 For words as the expression of what is in the heart see 15:18–19, the focus being there also on the expression of bad attitudes (and contrast the “clean heart” of 5:8).42

35 This saying is similar to 13:52, which uses the same verb and noun for the scribe-disciple who “produces from his store” both new and old.43 The thought is again of bringing to light what is in the secret place, so that a person’s words or deeds reveal what is really important to them, and so their true character. Compare the use of “treasure” language (the same Greek noun) in 6:19–21 to express what is most important to a person, in that case in relation to heaven or earth.

36 The same “I tell you” formula as in v. 31 marks out this saying also as a warning to be taken seriously, and it too speaks of ultimate judgment (for “the day of judgment” cf. 10:15; 11:22, 24; 12:41, 42). The Pharisees’ offensive words in v. 24 reveal their true nature, and on this they will be judged. For judgment based on a word of abuse cf. 5:22. It is typical of Jesus’ teaching style to shock by exaggeration (see e.g. comments on 5:22), and “every idle word” sounds like an impossibly harsh basis for judgment; but see p. 475, n. 11 for the adjective traditionally translated “idle,” which I have rendered rather by “empty.” The point is not the casualness of the utterance, but its fallaciousness: “not … ‘thoughtless’ words, such as a carefree joke, but deedless ones, loafers which ought to be up and busy about what they say, the broken promise, the unpaid vow, words which said, ‘I go, sir’ and never went (Matt. 21:29).”44 The Pharisees’ charge against Jesus, which was far from “casual” or “thoughtless,” is such an utterance, purporting to be a defence of God’s truth but all the time working against his saving purpose. Reading this saying in its context therefore helps to avoid the excessive rigorism which a literal rendering of these words out of context can promote, and which can easily turn conscientious disciples into humorless pedants who are afraid to relax or to join in social banter.

37 The courtroom language of this saying fits the judgment theme of v. 36, and its specific focus on “words” sums up the message of the whole paragraph.45 The unexpected change to the second-person singular, when Jesus is speaking to and about a group, the Pharisees, perhaps marks this out as a saying with a separate origin. But for general ethical teaching expressed as an address to the individual hearer (though set among second-person plural instructions) cf. e.g. 5:23–26, 29–30, 36, 39–42; 6:2–4, 6, 17–18, 21–23; it is a typical aspect of Jesus’ teaching style as presented by Matthew, encouraging the reader to consider the personal application of the teaching.

4. The Demand for a Sign (12:38–45)

38Then some of the scribes and Pharisees responded to him, “Teacher, we want to see a sign from you.” 39But he replied to them, “It is a wicked and adulterous generation which demands a sign. No sign will be given to it except the sign of Jonah the prophet. 40For just as ‘Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the sea-monster’ so the Son of Man will be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth. 41The men of Nineveh will rise up at the judgment with this generation and will condemn it, because they repented in response to Jonah’s proclamation, and I tell you that1 something more than Jonah is here. 42The queen of the South will be raised2 up at the judgment with this generation and will condemn it, because she came from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon, and I tell you that something more than Solomon is here.

43“When the unclean spirit is expelled from3 a person, it wanders through arid places looking for somewhere to settle, and does not find anywhere. 44Then it says, ‘I will return to my own home from which I have been expelled.’ So it comes and finds it unoccupied, swept clean and tidied up. 45Then it goes and recruits seven other spirits worse than itself, and together they come in and live there. So the final state of that person is worse than at first. That is the way it will be with this wicked generation.”

A new challenge from the religious authorities (v. 38) introduces a further polemical response by Jesus. The issue is now overtly christological, as the demand for a “sign” is, like the later challenge in Jerusalem (21:23: “By what authority do you act like this, and who gave you this authority?”), in effect a questioning of Jesus’ special authority. Jesus is putting himself forward as someone of unique status (“something greater than the temple,” v. 6; “the Lord of the sabbath,” v. 8), who acts by the power of God’s Spirit and in whose activity God’s kingship is being established (v. 28). Such a bold claim needs to be verified: if God has sent him, surely God will be prepared to authenticate him. “We want to see a sign.”

Jesus’ response is not very accommodating. The only sign he offers is cryptic and, worse, is still set in the future so that it can be of no help to them now. The demand is met rather by repeated (and indeed escalated) assertion of Jesus’ special status, in relation even to those who in the past have had a key role as mediators between God and his people, and by the warning that to fail to recognize where God is now at work is to risk ultimate condemnation. For so obvious an authority no sign is needed. It is not so much an answer as a counter-challenge. In the narrative context it clearly does not satisfy, as the demand will be repeated in 16:1, and Jesus’ repeated refusal of a sign then will mark the end of dialogue between him and the Galilean authorities.

Just as in the previous section a further paragraph of polemical comment was added to Jesus’ response (vv. 33–37), so now again we find an added paragraph (vv. 43–45), still presented as part of Jesus’ response, but which does not directly deal with the demand for a sign. It is a curious little “case-history,” told with the light touch of popular story-telling (“a somewhat puzzling ghost story,” Luz, 2.213), concerning what may happen after an exorcism. It thus relates to the theme of vv. 22–29 (and indeed in Luke 11:24–26 it follows directly after that episode), but Matthew has placed it after the demand for a sign because for him it illustrates the spiritual danger facing “this generation,” and by adding the final clause of v. 45 (not in the Luke parallel) he makes that connection explicit. The repeated reference to the “generation” in vv. 39, 41, 42, 45 thus binds this section together, and links it to the critical comments on “this generation” which we have read in 11:16–19, and which will reach their threatening climax in 23:36–39.

38 Hitherto in this chapter Jesus’ opponents have been described simply as “Pharisees” (vv. 2, 14, 24; similarly in earlier controversies, 9:11, 34). The inclusion of “scribes” this time may reflect the more overtly theological character of the challenge, but the pairing is one which comes naturally to Matthew (5:20; 7:29; 15:1 and throughout ch. 23), as the interests of the two groups were closely related (see on 5:20). As, in their own view at least, guardians of true religion, they cannot allow Jesus’ outrageous claims to go unchallenged. “Teacher” (an address used in Matthew by outsiders, not by disciples; see on 8:19) draws attention to his challenges to the teaching authority of the scribes, though it is not only his teaching which is now in question. The idea of an authenticating “sign” (cf. John 6:30) has a good OT pedigree.4 Moses, in the expectation that his God-given authority would be challenged, was given miracles to perform (Exod 4:1–9, 29–31; 7:8–22); Gideon requested and received a sign to confirm God’s promise (Judg 6:36–40); Elijah called down fire from heaven (1 Kgs 18:36–39); Ahaz and Hezekiah were offered signs to authenticate Isaiah’s prophecies (Isa 7:10–14; 38:7–8). All these signs took the form of miraculous or otherwise inexplicable events, and even though “sign” is not used in the Synoptics, as it is in John, as a word for “miracle,” it would be natural to assume that that is what Jesus is now asked for (as it is apparently in 16:1, “a sign from heaven”),5 though in view of the steady succession of miracles already recorded it is not easy to surmise what more they wanted—unless this particular group had not been present at any of Jesus’ miracles. But even in the OT miraculous signs were not in themselves a guarantee of a prophet’s authenticity (Deut 13:1–3; cf. also Matt 24:24), and the Pharisees have found another explanation for Jesus’ exorcisms (v. 24). Are they now then looking for something more unambiguous (cf. the recognition in v. 27 that Jesus was not the only exorcist around)?

39 In view of the OT precedent the request for a sign is not in itself objectionable, and indeed Jesus has already drawn attention to the evidential value of his miracles in 9:6; 11:4–6, 21, 23. But Jesus dismisses the present request because of the attitude of those who have made it. “A wicked and adulterous generation” is perhaps an echo of Moses’ description of rebellious Israel in Deut 32:5 (cf. Deut 1:35); see17:17 for a more direct echo of the same passage. Israel’s “adultery” in going after other gods is a frequent theme of the prophets. Here the leaders’ challenge is taken to represent the sceptical attitude of the people in general. Their demand6 for a sign after so much clear evidence (note especially v. 28) betrays their fundamental opposition to God’s purpose as it is now focused in the ministry of Jesus. If they have not been convinced by what has already happened, what sort of sign can hope to persuade them? The refusal of a sign is absolute in Mark’s parallel passage (8:11–12), but Matthew and Luke (11:29–30) both qualify it by an enigmatic reference to the “sign of Jonah,” which they then develop differently, Matthew by an explicit typological parallel (v. 40), Luke by stating more cryptically simply that as Jonah was a sign to the people of Nineveh, so will the Son of Man be to this generation.

It is the view of some commentators that Jesus originally left the nature of the “sign of Jonah” open and that it is Matthew who has tied it down to a typological comparison of the sort that clearly appealed to him. Just how Jonah was a sign to the Ninevites in this supposed pre-Matthean form of the saying must be a matter of conjecture, but many suggest that it was in his preaching, a call to repentance which formed a model for that of Jesus (4:17). But Luke does not say that, any more than Matthew does. Luke’s insertion of the saying about the Queen of Sheba between the “sign” saying and the Ninevites’ repentance (whereas Matthew puts the Queen of Sheba after the Ninevites) suggests that he did not intend his v. 30 to be interpreted directly by his v. 32; moreover, his future tense in v. 30 indicates that the sign is something still future rather than the present preaching activity of Jesus—which in any case hardly constitutes a “sign.” References to the Book of Jonah in extant Jewish literature show that it was not his preaching that was their main interest, but his experience in and deliverance from the sea-monster, so that an unadorned reference to “the sign of Jonah” would be more likely to be understood in that light.7 In that case the interpretation given in Matthew 12:40 may not be so far wide of the mark. If v. 40 was part of the original tradition, it is strange that Luke omitted it, though it is possible that he was embarrassed by the apparent factual discrepancy between the “three days and three nights” of v. 40 and the “third day” of his own passion predictions (Luke 9:22 etc.). But even if v. 40 is Matthew’s elucidation of an originally cryptic saying, it is not as obvious as some interpreters have suggested that he has missed the point of Jesus’ reference to Jonah.8

If the “sign” is in fact to be accomplished, as v. 40 states, through Jesus’ death and resurrection, it will of course be too late to convince his present hearers. From their point of view, therefore, the refusal of a sign remains for the time being absolute despite the tantalizing “except.” It is Matthew’s readers who, with hindsight, can see what the exception means. After the resurrection had occurred, it became the primary evidence in Christian preaching for Jesus’ messianic credentials (Acts 2:22–36; 4:10–12; 13:29–39; 17:31, etc.).9

40 The carefully balanced wording of the two clauses (the first being a verbatim quotation of LXX Jonah 2:1 [EVV 1:17]) draws the typological parallel.10 So far it is simply a matter of comparable experience—the further typological element of repetition on a higher level will be added in v. 41.11 The explicit point of comparison is between Jonah’s confinement in the sea-monster and Jesus’ confinement in the earth, but the “three days and three nights” points to the divine intervention which brought each confinement to a spectacular end (Jonah 2:10, and Jesus’ resurrection). The different phrasing of the three-day period compared with the “third day” of Matt 16:21; 17:23; 20:19; 27:64 and the “after three days” of Matt 27:63 is due to the LXX wording, but in Semitic inclusive time-reckoning these do not denote different periods as a pedantic Western reading would suggest.12 The resurrection of Jesus will therefore demonstrate a correspondence between him and the prophet Jonah, each miraculously released from death; in Jonah’s case it was a virtual death (cf. Jonah 2:2, 6, “the belly of Sheol,” “the Pit”), but in Jesus’ case it would be actual death (whether “the heart of the earth”13 refers to Sheol, the place of the dead, or merely to the tomb).14 This is the most explicit anticipation of Jesus’ death in the gospel so far (cf. 9:15).

But was Jonah’s deliverance from drowning “a sign to the Ninevites” (Luke 11:30)? In the OT narrative it occurs before his arrival in Nineveh, presumably somewhere on the Mediterranean shore, far from Nineveh, and there is nothing to suggest that the people of Nineveh knew about it. It was his prophetic message, not his marine experience, which led to their repentance. But Jewish exegesis was not necessarily so precise; the fact that the proclamation followed the deliverance in the text was enough to allow the two to be connected, and few would have noticed the improbability of the Ninevites’ knowing about the deliverance.15 On such a reading it is possible to conclude, with J. Jeremias, that in both Luke and Matthew “both the old and the new sign of Jonah consist in the authorisation of the divine messenger by deliverance from death.”16 Matthew, unlike Luke, by speaking of the repentance of the Ninevites directly after his typological explanation of the “sign of Jonah,” underlines this connection between resurrection and proclamation. But whereas Jonah’s deliverance preceded his proclamation, Jesus’ will follow it. For his hearers, therefore, unlike Jonah’s, the sign can only convey retrospective authorization. For the time being, they have more than enough evidence without it.

41–42 Jesus has already compared his generation’s unresponsiveness unfavorably with pagans of the past (10:15; 11:22, 24). Now the mention of Jonah leads to a similar comparison but on a different level: the earlier references were to the judgment on wicked Gentiles, but now we are introduced to Gentiles who turned to God, and who can therefore appear for the prosecution against “this generation” at the day of judgment.17 Even the notoriously godless Ninevites were persuaded by Jonah’s call to repentance, but “this generation” has not responded to the call to repent (4:17; cf. 11:20) by the second Jonah. And yet this second Jonah is not just a repetition of the first, because (and here we come to the other essential presupposition of Christian typology), “something more than Jonah is here.” Commentators have not been able to agree on any significant reason for the substitution here and in v. 42 (as in Luke) of “more” for the “greater” of v. 6; it is simply a stylistic variation in the same formula between the Q version of the sayings and Matthew’s own formulation in v. 6. Both versions use the neuter (see on v. 6).

A parallel contrast, and a parallel declaration of “something more,” follows in v. 42. We have noted probable echoes of the story of the Queen of Sheba18 (1 Kgs 10:1–13) in the coming of the Magi to look for the new king of the Jews in Jerusalem (2:1–12). It is one of the classic OT stories of non-Israelite interest in Israel and its God, and so forms a natural parallel to Jonah’s Ninevites, and the two cases are presented in a closely parallel formulation. But Matthew’s interest is not only in the responsive pagans, but in the nature of the Israelite leaders to whom they responded. As Jonah represented the prophetic office, Solomon, the son of David, represents not only Israel’s wisdom tradition (and it was “to hear his wisdom” that the Queen of Sheba came, 1 Kgs 10:1, 3, 4) but also its monarchy.19

In these two declarations Jesus, while not offering any specific sign, goes a long way toward giving his own answer to the question about authority which underlay the demand of v. 38. Jonah and Solomon, the prophet and the wise man (the latter also the king, son of David), represent two of the principal authorities by whom God’s message was communicated to his people in the OT; the third major authority was the priests and the temple cult, which has been the subject of a similar formula in v. 6. If “something more/greater” than all these key authorities is now present, and if moreover all their functions have now been brought together into a single person,20 Jesus’ questioners have a thought-provoking basis on which to consider the question of his authority. Temple and priesthood, prophet, king and wise man—something greater is now here.21

43–45 This cautionary tale does not relate directly to any of the exorcisms recorded in the gospels, but is a comment on a danger associated with exorcism in general.22 A person liberated from demonic possession remains vulnerable to further possession if they remain “vacant.” Something else, which is not specified, must take the place of the demonic occupation. We can only assume in the light of Jesus’ teaching elsewhere that the void is to be filled by discipleship,23 and more specifically by the Spirit of God, a link which is suggested in this context by the Spirit’s role in exorcism in v. 28.24

The story is told with wry humour. Contrary to the traditions of St Antony of Egypt (and the remarks of most commentators here), this demon is not comfortable out in the desert (see on 4:1), and is only truly at home with a human host. But a home which has been cleaned out is not fit for an unclean spirit, and so he recruits seven (the number of perfection) others worse than himself to help him render it unclean enough to be habitable again.

It is probably unwise to use this folksy parable as in its own right a guide to demonology, since its function here is to illustrate the danger facing “this generation.” There is no indication in context that the whole “generation” has been possessed; it is only a number of individuals who have been delivered by exorcism. But their experience suggests a model for a wider reflection. The rhetoric requires only that the situation of “this generation” is like that of the newly-exorcized person, not that they have themselves been possessed. Their “liberation” has been rather through seeing and hearing in the ministry of Jesus a new power and orientation (summarized in the slogan “the kingship of heaven”) which has set them free to make a new beginning; but if they now fail to take the road of discipleship, they are in danger of relapsing into a condition worse than before. Half-hearted repentance without a new commitment will not last. The message reflects that of v. 30: if they are not positively “for” Jesus they will turn out in the end to be “against” him.25

I. Jesus’ True Family (12:46–50)

46He was still speaking to the crowds when his mother and brothers came and1 stood outside, wanting to speak with him. 47Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak with you.”2 48But he replied to the person who told him, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” 49Then he stretched out his hand toward his disciples, and said, “Look, here are my mother and my brothers. 50Anyone who does the will of my Father who is in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”

This little cameo, apparently set inside a house,3 concludes the narrative section which has prepared the way for the discourse of ch. 13. Chapters 11–12 have revealed a wide variety of reactions to Jesus among his Galilean contemporaries, and the parables of ch. 13 will explain how such a divided response has come about. Most of the reactions noted, especially in ch. 12, have been hostile, but at the end of ch. 11 the mood was lightened by a brief glimpse of the “little ones” who have been able to perceive the truth (11:25–30), and now another ray of light concludes the section. As well as the seeds which have failed or are failing, there is also seed growing in good ground.

The primary focus is therefore on the “true family” of Jesus’ disciples (Matthew, unlike Mark, makes their identification explicit), to which his natural family provides merely a point of comparison. This paragraph, though it begins with Jesus’ mother and brothers, is not really about them. After the account of Jesus’ childhood in chs. 1–2 we have heard nothing more of his family. We do not even know whether his move down to Capernaum in 4:13 involved any of them, though 13:56 tells us that his sisters at least stayed in Nazareth. Nor will they be mentioned directly again, though some have supposed that the mysteriously named “Mary the mother of James and Joseph” at the cross (27:56) was in fact Jesus’ mother (this will be judged unlikely; see comments there). Even Mark’s brief notice of the attitude of (probably)4 Jesus’ family to his activity in Mark 3:21 finds no place in Matthew. Matthew’s narrative as a whole thus reflects the message of this paragraph: Jesus’ natural family is not the family that matters.

The “disciples” referred to in v. 49 are primarily the Twelve, who might be expected to be with Jesus, but Matthew’s usage allows for a wider group (see on 8:21), and the inclusion of “sister” in v. 50 demands it. It is these disciples who constitute Jesus’ true family. In the itinerant life in Galilee it is they, rather than the Nazareth family, who share his day-to-day life, but the thought here is at a less mundane level than that. Those who follow Jesus have committed themselves to “do the will of my Father who is in heaven,” and so have entered into a new relationship with God as also their “heavenly Father”—the term which so prominently expressed the essence of discipleship in chs. 5–7. And those who are children of the same heavenly Father are thus members of the same family, and are to regard one another as brothers and sisters: for “brother” used of fellow-disciples see 5:22–24; 7:3–5; 18:15, 21, 35; 23:8. In place of the earthly families some of them have had to leave, they are promised a hundred-fold more brothers, sisters, parents and children (19:29). And this extended family under the one heavenly Father (23:8–9) includes Jesus himself, who acknowledges the same Father in heaven, so that he can refer to his disciples as “my brothers” (cf. 25:40; 28:10).5

This familial view of discipleship and of the nature of the new community being formed around Jesus is vividly expressed in this little paragraph by contrast with the mother and brothers from Nazareth who now apparently form no part of the Jesus circle. The result is that on the one occasion when Jesus’ natural family appear in the narrative outside the infancy stories they are dismissed in what many have taken to be an unfeeling manner. The Jesus who in 15:4–6 upholds the OT command to honor one’s father and mother here seems to treat his mother and brothers with scant respect. He is putting into practice what he taught his disciples in 10:37, that even the most important earthly ties cannot be allowed to stand in the way of loyalty to the kingship of God. It is a matter of priorities. But it is unfortunate that this prior allegiance to the work of God and the call of Jesus (cf. also the case-study in 8:21–22) is not balanced elsewhere in Matthew by words or deeds of Jesus which demonstrate appropriate filial respect and love, such as we find in Luke 2:51; John 2:3–5; 19:25–27, or by any acknowledgement that loyalty to God and to family are not necessarily incompatible. An unsympathetic reader might well conclude from Matthew’s account that Jesus’ “honoring” of his family, and his instructions to his disciples on the matter, left something to be desired.6

46–47 It is widely assumed that the mention of Jesus’ “mother and brothers”7 without a father is evidence that Joseph has died by this time; cf. also the naming of his mother and brothers in the Nazareth pericope (13:55), whereas Joseph appears only obliquely in that Jesus is described as “the carpenter’s son.” The tradition fits the evidence and may well be correct, though it cannot be proved. In Matthew the arrival of Jesus’ mother and brothers is introduced without the preparation given by Mark 3:21 (see above), and we thus have no indication of what they wanted to talk to him about. In Mark it is possible to explain Jesus’ dismissive response by the unwelcome nature of their mission, but Matthew provides no such justification. What he is rebuffing is apparently normal family contact; they are not even welcomed into the house after their journey. The double mention that they were “standing outside” (see p. 494, n. 2 for the authenticity of v. 47) gives visual expression to their exclusion from Jesus’ immediate circle, though Matthew does not go as far as Mark in emphasizing this (cf. the “circle” sitting around Jesus in Mark 3:32, 34) and does not exploit the term “outside” as Mark 4:11 goes on to do. They are not as yet included in the number of the “disciples”, however broadly defined; there is no hint of the prominent role to be taken later by both Mary and James in the developing Christian movement.8

48–50 The implied repudiation of Jesus’ own family9 is a matter of priority rather than an absolute dissociation; see comments on 10:37. But the focus here is not on their rebuff but on the positive assertion that Jesus’ disciples are his true family. Following Jesus has created a new and far-reaching bond between them and him. But it is a commitment which must go further than a mere profession of allegiance. “Does the will of my Father who is in heaven” exactly repeats the words used in 7:21 to describe true disciples over against those who merely profess to follow Jesus. See comments there, and note how the same language is used again to distinguish between true and false in the interpretation of the parable of the two sons (21:31). While presumably all religious people, including the Pharisees and Jesus’ family, would aim to “do the will of God,” the phrase as used by Jesus, with the more relational title “my Father who is in heaven,” clearly has a more specific focus on the sort of discipleship which he has outlined in chs. 5–7 and which was summed up as a “greater righteousness” than that of the scribes and Pharisees (5:20).10

The inclusion of “and sister” in v. 50 is a rare case of gender-inclusive language in the gospel accounts of Jesus’ sayings (cf. 19:29). Since only his brothers are mentioned as being present here (his sisters having remained in Nazareth, 13:56) the addition of “sister” in the concluding pronouncement is the more significant.11 It shows that there were women among Jesus’ disciples at this stage, even if not among the Twelve; they remain otherwise invisible in the narrative of Jesus’ ministry, but will be mentioned retrospectively in 27:55 (see comments there).

J. The Kingdom of Heaven—Proclamation and Response: The Parable Discourse (13:1–53)

This third main discourse differs from the others (chs. 5–7, 10, 18, 24–25) in that while the others are presented as unbroken monologues by Jesus (with the one exception of a question and answer at 18:21–22), this one is punctuated throughout by narrative introductions. Twice the disciples ask a question and Jesus responds (vv. 10–11, 36–37); once Jesus asks a question, they respond and he comments (vv. 51–52); three times Jesus’ continuing speech is punctuated by the editorial formula, “He put before them / told them another parable” (vv. 24, 31, 33); and in vv. 34–35 the sequence of parables is broken by an editorial explanation and a formula quotation. There is even a change of audience at vv. 10–11, and a further change of audience accompanied by a change of location in vv. 36–37—and since the new audience in v. 36 is the same as that in v. 10, a further unmarked change of audience must be assumed, presumably at v. 24. All this might suggest that this section of the gospel should not be classified with the other discourses, but the factors which link it with them are greater than the differences. It is concluded (13:53) by the same set formula; it serves to separate two substantial narrative sections; it has a clear coherence of theme (the kingdom of heaven), and in this case there is also a coherence of rhetorical form in that it consists entirely of parables together with comments on the meaning of parables.

The difference in form may be accounted for partly by the fact that in this case the Marcan “parallel” is much more extensive than for the other discourses, and Mark 4 displays a similar pattern of repeated introductory formulae, audience change, and editorial comment. Matthew 13:1–53 looks like a considerably expanded but essentially parallel version of Mark 4:1–34, omitting one of Mark’s story-parables (Mark 4:26–29) and a series of parabolic sayings (Mark 4:21–25), and adding further parables which go beyond the theme of growth which unites all the story-parables of Mark 4. But a further reason for the narrative interruptions in Matthew 13 (as in Mark 4) is that they in fact enhance the message of the discourse as a whole, both by emphasizing the parabolic nature of the material presented (vv. 10, 24, 31, 33, 34, 36) and also because the changes of audience and location serve to “dramatize” the distinction between the disciples as privileged recipients of revelation and the crowds who receive “nothing without parables” (v. 34), which is one of the main messages the discourse itself is designed to convey.

Following from the portrayal in chs. 11–12 of the varied responses in Galilee to Jesus and his preaching of the kingdom of heaven, the parables of this discourse tackle the natural question why this should be so. If the message is good, and it is being presented by someone whom the reader has by now learned to recognzie as God’s Messiah, why is it not being welcomed and acted on by all those who hear? Surely the very phrase “the kingdom of heaven” predisposes the reader to expect a triumphant proclamation and response. How can God’s kingship be resisted by his own people? The parables provide a variety of models for understanding this conundrum, by highlighting sometimes the varied nature of the hearers (vv. 3–9), sometimes the unexpected nature of the message (vv. 31–33, 44–45), and sometimes the division which is an empirical reality of human society in relation to God (vv. 24–30, 47–50). All this is designed to help the disciples (and through them, of course, Matthew’s readers) to be less naive in their expectations, to strengthen them to continue as heralds of God’s kingship even in the face of disappointment and opposition.

The theme, then, is “the kingdom of heaven.” That phrase is linked explicitly to each of the parables (vv. 11, 24, 31, 33, 44, 45, 47, 52), even though they illustrate quite varied aspects of this multi-faceted concept. They challenge the hearer to think through how God is working out his sovereign purpose in his world, as this is now being implemented through the ministry of Jesus in Galilee, and to recognize his sometimes surprising methods and motives in a way the Pharisees have so conspicuously failed to do (and even John the Baptist has found difficult) in the previous two chapters. Only so will they be among the “little children” to whom the truth is revealed (11:25–27), the true family of Jesus who “do the will of my Father who is in heaven.” (12:46–50) So the theme of division runs through these parables: unproductive and productive soil, good grain and weeds, good fish and bad. Those who find the treasure and the pearl stand out from other people in the extravagance of their response, and the householder of v. 52 is distinguished from others by his ability to produce the new as well as the old.

The suitability of parables as a method of teaching in this situation is explored especially in vv. 10–17, and we shall consider there the problems of a theory of parables which appears to drive outsiders further away rather than lead them into truth. Modern readers are so used to thinking of parables as helpful illustrative stories that they find it hard to grasp the message of this chapter that parables do not explain. To some they may convey enlightenment, but for others they may only deepen confusion. The difference lies in the hearer’s ability to rise to the challenge. Far from giving explanations, parables themselves need to be explained, and three are given detailed explanations in this chapter (vv. 18–23, 37–43, 49–50). But that explanation is not given to everyone, but only to the disciples (vv. 10 and 36), and Matthew not only makes the point explicit in v. 34 (only parables for the crowds, not explanations), but also confirms it by a formula quotation in v. 35: parables are “hidden things.” In this way the medium (parables) is itself integral to the message it conveys (the secrets of the kingdom of heaven).

The discourse shows again the careful attention to structure which we have noted especially in chs. 8–9, though interpreters differ in detail as to how they analyze the structure. I find it most satisfactory to see it as focused on two sets of three parables (vv. 24–33, 44–50) separated by a comment on parabolic teaching and a detailed parable explanation (vv. 34–43), which itself reflects the pattern of an earlier comment and explanation in vv. 13–23. Framing the whole are an opening parable which provides the essential foundation for all that follows (vv. 3–9), and a concluding parable which challenges the hearers to appropriate response (vv. 51–52).1 A narrative introduction (vv. 1–3a) and conclusion (v. 53, using the regular concluding formula) integrate the discourse into the surrounding narrative. The resultant structure may be set out as follows:2

1–3a	Teaching by the lake
3b-9	Opening parable: the sower
10–17	About teaching in parables
18–23	Explanation of the sower
24–33	Three further parables of growth (weeds, mustard seed, leaven)
34–35	About teaching in parables
36–43	Explanation of the weeds
44–50	Three further short parables (treasure, pearl, net)
51–52	Concluding parable: the householder
53	Moving on.

1. Teaching by the Lake (13:1–3a)

1That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat by the lake. 2Large crowds gathered around him, so that he got into a boat and sat there, while the whole crowd stood on the shore. 3And he said many things to them in parables:

By specifying the same day and mentioning the house (which Jesus is presumed to have been in for the scene in 12:46–50, leaving his family “outside”) Matthew creates a closer link with the preceding narrative than the other synoptists. Jesus has just spoken of the special privilege of his disciples, to be regarded as his true family, and this discourse will underline that privilege. It is they, and not the crowds “outside,” who have been given the ability to perceive the hidden truths of the kingdom of heaven (v. 11) and their privilege will be underlined in vv. 16–17. To them private explanations of the parables will be given, but not to the crowds, and the narrative shifts within this discourse will underline this distinction (vv. 10, 36). In this introductory scene-setting the boat already serves that purpose: Matthew does not mention here that the disciples were in the boat with Jesus, but their private approach to him in v. 10 indicates that they were—though the introduction of a “house” in v. 36 complicates the scenario, and indicates the composite origin of the discourse. The boat forms a convenient pulpit in view of the pressing crowd, but it also serves symbolically to distance Jesus (and his disciples) from the crowd (who, like Jesus’ family in 12:46, are “standing” separate from the disciple group), and thus to underline the editorial distinction between public and private teaching. As in 5:1–2 (see comments there) and 24:3, Jesus the teacher adopts the traditional seated posture, while the audience stand. The setting is probably intended to be the shore at Capernaum, where Jesus’ home now was.

That Jesus “said many things in parables” might remind the reader of Solomon, who was compared with Jesus as recently as 12:42, who spoke “three thousand proverbs (LXX parabolai),” 1 Kgs 4:32. We have already seen a number of parables in Jesus’ teaching in Matthew (5:25–26; 9:12, 15–17; 11:16–19; 12:29, 43–45), but this is Matthew’s first use of the term parabolē, whereas Mark uses it earlier also to describe the form of Jesus’ response to the Beelzebul charge (Mark 3:23). It occurs throughout this chapter, where the reference is to story-parables of the type normally associated with the English word “parable,” and this is the predominant use elsewhere in Matthew (21:33, 45; 22:1), though it is also used for a simple comparison (24:32) and for a striking aphorism which involves no comparative element (15:15). That last use indicates that for Matthew, as for Mark (cf. also Mark’s inclusion of a series of aphorisms in his “parable” chapter, 4:21–25), parabolē is wider than the English “parable,” and includes also cryptic sayings or epigrams, so that it is closer to the Hebrew māšāl (which it regularly translates in LXX), which covers proverbs (like those of Solomon), fables, prophetic utterances and even riddles as well as allegorical parables like those of Ezekiel. So understood, a parabolē is an utterance which does not carry its meaning on the surface, and which thus demands thought and perception if the hearer is to benefit from it. Learning from and responding to a parabolē is not a matter of simply reading off the meaning from the words, but of entering into an interactive process to which the hearer must contribute if true understanding is to result. That is why the same parable which enlightens one may puzzle or even repel another. A parable is not an easy option for understanding, but a challenge to which not everyone will be able to rise. Parables without interpretation, which is all that are offered to the crowds in this discourse, will thus result in a divided response, depending on what degree of understanding and of openness each hearer brings to them. See further on vv. 11–13 for this understanding of parable.

2. Introductory Parable: The Sower (13:3b-9)

3b“Once1 a sower went out to sow, 4and as he sowed, some of the seed fell beside the path, and the birds came and ate it up. 5Other seed fell on a rocky area where it did not have much soil, and it grew up quickly because it did not have any depth of soil, 6but when the sun came up it was scorched and it shriveled up because it had no root. 7Other seed fell on a thorny patch, and the thorns grew up and choked it. 8But other seed fell on good soil, and produced a crop, one2 yielding a hundred-fold, another sixty-fold and another thirty-fold. 9Whoever has ears,3 let them hear.”

The title “the parable of the sower” is supplied by v. 18, but while it correctly describes the narrative scene, it does not help in the interpretation of the parable, whose four-part structure focuses attention not on the sower or even on the seed (which is assumed to be the same in each of the four scenes) but on the different types of soil into which it falls.4 The traditional German title, Gleichnis vom viererlei Acker, “Parable of the four types of ground,” better reflects the focus of the parable. The specific delineation of the four areas, and their equally specific individual interpretation in vv. 18–23, requires the reader to compare and contrast them, and to ask what sort of people and situations each of them represents. Modern interpretation of the parable has increasingly recognized this implication of the literary form of this particular parable, over against the dogmatic assertion of earlier NT scholarship, following Adolf Jülicher, that a parable has only a single point and that all the rest is mere narrative scenery, which must not be “allegorized” to determine what each detail means. In this case the way the story is constructed demands that the detail be noticed, and to interpret those details individually is not arbitrary “allegorization” but a responsible recognition of the way Jesus constructed the story. To argue, as has often been done, that the parable is all about the assurance of an ultimate harvest despite disappointments is to do scant justice to the careful way in which the three unproductive areas are sketched and to the differentiation in the yields achieved by different seeds in v. 8. There is in the end a good harvest, of course, but the parable also explains why it is not as large as it might have been, and challenges the reader to think about the obstacles to growth as much as about the happy ending.

An interpretation of the parable will follow in vv. 18–23, and I will postpone until then comment on what it all means. Even if, as many have argued, the interpretation differs from Jesus’ original intention in telling this story (see on vv. 18–23), within the literary context of Matthew’s gospel (as also of Mark and Luke) it provides the definitive account, so that the commentator on Matthew cannot discuss the story without its explanation. Indeed it is tempting to avoid repetition by dealing with both passages together (as I did in my earlier commentary on Matthew), but Matthew has not placed them together, and the intervention of a substantial section of teaching about parables in vv. 11–17 is presupposed in the way the explanation is framed. So we shall deal with the two sections as they come in the text, but I shall try as far as possible to focus here on the story itself, leaving discussion of its implications until we have Matthew’s own input on the subject.

3b-4 In a primarily agrarian society the choice of agricultural imagery for parables needs no special explanation;5 three of the parables in this chapter are set on the farm (and cf. 20:1–16; 21:33–43). The sowing envisaged is most likely of wheat or barley, the two principal grain crops of Palestine at the time. The seed falling on the beaten earth beside the path, where it could not penetrate, may be the few grains which inevitably go beyond the intended rage in broadcast sowing, though it is also possible that the technique envisaged is of sowing before plowing,6 in which case the birds got to the seed before the path could be plowed up and the grain buried (a familar hazard?; see Jub. 11:11). This seed is totally wasted.

5–6 The second scenario would be familiar to those who farmed the rocky land of Galilee, where the bedrock is often close to the surface. It is not clear why seed sown on thin soil should grow initially any quicker than elsewhere, as the wording of v. 5 suggests, but the point of the scene is rather in the contrast between this apparently promising initial growth and the inability of the growing plants to sustain themselves when the heat is on and the shallow soil is quickly parched. Here there is initial growth,7 but it doesn’t last.

7 his third scene is similar, but this time the danger comes not from the inadequate resources in the soil, but from competition. The luxuriant growth of the thorns shows that there is nothing wrong with the soil here; the problem is that it is already occupied and there is no room for a new type of vegetation (another recognized hazard: Jer 4:3). The plants do not necessarily die, but they cannot produce grain because of the competition for light and nourishment.8 There has thus been a progression in the first three scenes: the first seed never started; the second started well but did not survive; the third may even have survived, but produced nothing. But none of them are of any use to the farmer.

8–9 In contrast with the three scenes of failure we now consider the seed which grows and is productive. There is no indication of what proportion of seed meets with the various fates mentioned, so that it is not legitimate to state as some commentators do that only one quarter of the seed was successful. Presumably, unless this is an extraordinarily incompetent farmer, the majority of the seed falls into good ground and produces a crop. But even here there is variation. It is not certain how the yield is being computed. If “thirty-fold” means thirty bushels harvested for every bushel sown, it would be a good but not unimaginable crop, but if, as is more likely,9 it means that each germinating plant had thirty grains it is probably on the low side of normal. In that case sixty-fold is an averagely good crop, and a hundred-fold very good, but not miraculous.10 The inclusion of the three levels of yield11 seems likely to be intended to be noticed;12 see further on v. 23. For the parable-formula of v. 9 see above on 11:15; its relevance in this context will become clear in vv. 11–17 when the consequences of the way one “hears” are spelled out.

3. About Teaching in Parables (13:10–17)

10His disciples came to him and asked him, “Why do you speak to them in parables?”

11He replied to them, “Because1 to you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given. 12For whoever has, more will be given to them and they will have more than enough; but whoever does not have, even what they have will be taken away from them. 13That is why I speak to them in parables, because when they see they do not see and when they hear they do not hear or understand.2 14And for them is fulfilled Isaiah’s prophecy which said,

‘As you hear you will hear but never understand,

and as you see you will see but never perceive.3

15For the heart of this people has become fat,

and with their ears they have heard heavily,

and they have shut their eyes,

so that they will not perceive with their eyes

and hear with their ears

and understand in their heart, and turn around

so that I might4 heal them.’

16But happy are your eyes, because they do see, and your ears, because they do hear. 17I tell you truly that many prophets and righteous people were eager to see what you see and did not see it, and to hear what you hear and did not hear it.”

The first of two lengthy private “asides” to the disciples within this discourse (cf. also vv. 36ff) will focus on a detailed interpretation of the parable just given (vv. 18–23), but before that we have a more general account of how parables are intended to work. This paragraph is thus set between the parable of the sower and its explanation, and the three sections are closely interwoven. In answer to the disciples’ question these verses explain why Jesus teaches in parables, but that explanation is itself based on the content of the parable: the failure of some of the soil to receive the seed is a comment on the human condition which Isaiah’s prophecy sets out. The point will be developed in the interpretation of the parable in vv. 18–23. And the fact that the disciples, and they alone, receive an interpretation of the parable puts into practice the teaching about their privileged position which is at the heart of vv. 11–17.

These verses too are addressed only to the disciples, and indeed the content focuses on their special situation over against the larger crowd on the shore. Here (as in 11:25–27) we find people divided sharply into two groups, the enlightened disciples and the others who cannot grasp the truth however much they see and hear. The parable itself has given a more nuanced account, with its four (not two) different types of hearer, but here the first three groups are treated as one. Though their failure is traced to different causes, none of them find “understanding” (vv. 19, 23; see comments on v. 19) and all in the end fail to produce a crop. As an empirical observation (that people respond differently, and only some will reach “understanding”) this would not be surprising, but the point of this paragraph is that this is not just a fact of life but the purpose of God. The truth about the kingdom of heaven is “secret,” and is perceived only by those to whom “it is given,” while the experience of the others has already been predicted in Isaiah’s terrible prophecy about people who are unable to grasp the truth and to respond and find “healing.” In the Hebrew version of Isa 6:10 the prophet is actually instructed to “Make the heart of this people fat” etc., and while the LXX has dulled the shock of this rhetoric by turning the verbs into passives describing the people’s own self-insulation against the truth, it is hard even in that version to avoid the conclusion that this is the way God has planned it. Isaiah 6:9–10 is clearly important to Matthew,5 since he gives us not only an abbreviated summary of its message such as Luke also has (v. 13), but also a full quotation of the LXX text with its own introductory formula claiming that this prophecy has now found its fulfillment in those to whom Jesus has been sent (vv. 14–15).

Readers of these verses—and even more of the Marcan version, that parables are given “in order that” some people may not understand—find it hard to avoid the conclusion that God has chosen some people to be enlightened and has deliberately left others in the dark, and that parables are designed to reinforce this divinely appointed separation. After all, that seems to be what Isa 6:9–10 was saying (except that it focuses entirely on the unperceptive, and does not mention any who do receive the truth!), and Matthew is enthusiastically endorsing its viewpoint. But a few points may modify the harshness of this doctrine, even if they do not entirely neutralize it.

(1) Davies & Allison, 2.389–390, rightly point out that our tendency to focus on the problem of the unenlightened misses the point of these sayings, which is the positive blessing of God’s gift of knowledge graciously made available in a world which as a whole is characterized by “ignorance of God’s eschatological secrets” (as in 11:25 and 16:17). The glass is half full rather than half empty!

(2) The distinction between divine and human causation which we find so necessary seems to have been less clear to the biblical writers. Nothing that happens can happen without God, and the same effect may thus be attributed both to human (or demonic) will and to the divine purpose (see above on 4:1 and comments on v. 19 below). So the LXX version of Isa 6:10, which attributes the people’s unreceptiveness to their own self-hardening, is not in direct contradiction to the Hebrew, which attributes it to the divinely intended effect of Isaiah’s proclamation; they are two sides of the same coin.

(3) Few would doubt that as a matter of fact there is a difference in the way people respond to spiritual truth. Some absorb it with delight, while others shrug it off, or even campaign against it. As a depiction of reality these verses ring true. The problem comes when we look for the reasons for the difference. Modern thought is likely to find the causes in psychology, environment, formative influences etc., but in the ancient world they were likely to be seen in more personal terms, so that a depiction of empirical fact easily shades into an attribution of design, whether human, demonic or divine.6

(4) Whereas Isa 6:9–10 gives the impression of a total lack of response to the prophet’s message (apart from the cryptic reference to a “holy seed” in 6:13), these verses are set within a parable (the sower) which does envisage a positive response on the part of some of those who hear, as do the following parables; note especially the eventually huge growth predicted for the mustard seed in v. 32 and the leaven in v. 33. The “pessimism” of the Isaiah prophecy is only a part of the truth about the coming of the kingdom of heaven.

(5) Where there are “insiders” and “outsiders,” it is presumably always possible for an outsider to become an insider. The object of Jesus’ proclamation of the kingdom of heaven was that people should repent, and so become subjects of God’s kingship. The disciples themselves represent those who have responded to this proclamation and so have become insiders. So the two categories are not hard and fast; the boundary can be crossed. It is not the purpose of these verses to explain how that crossing takes place, but only to depict the situation as it is, with some inside and some outside. In that case it is not appropriate to look for answers to our questions about predestination in this paragraph. As the discourse develops we shall find ample cause to believe that good soil can be found: the kingdom of heaven will grow like mustard seed and penetrate like leaven, and people will rejoice at discovering it as at finding a treasure or a pearl; “hidden things” are meant to be revealed (v. 35). This paragraph must not be taken out of that context. It tells us that there will always be some who do not respond, but it does not prescribe who they are to be.

(6) This paragraph is about why parables are an appropriate medium for the proclamation of the message. It is because people are so different, and react so differently. A parable is a story or epigram which does not carry its meaning on the surface (see above on v. 3a). It challenges the hearer to engage with it in an educational process which, if the hearer brings to it the right attitude and openness, will result in their perceiving and responding to the truth. But it can equally be resisted, and dismissed as a mere story. So parables, given without explanation, are open-ended.7 In a situation where some are open to truth and some are not, parables, as imaginative challenge rather than simple proposition, are an appropriate way to communicate new ideas. For some they will break through the barriers to understanding, and to such people (like the disciples) the “secrets of the kingdom of heaven” will be “given.” But others will remain impenetrable, and the seed will be lost, scorched, or choked. Putting truth before such people only in the form of parables is a way of implementing the principle set out in 7:6.8

These considerations do not remove the robust stress on the divine purpose in these verses, but they may perhaps help in accommodating it within our overall understanding of the mystery of revelation and human response.9

10 The setting of the discourse in v. 2 described Jesus as speaking from a boat. Since no change of location has been mentioned Matthew presumably intends us to assume that the disciples were in the boat with him (as they have been in 8:23–9:1 and will be again in 14:13–34), though nothing is made of the physical location, and Jesus will go into a house in v. 36. The boat, separating them from the crowd on the shore, would provide a suitable place for this private inquiry and explanation. If so, the size of the boat (see on 8:23) perhaps means that we should envisage only the Twelve as present (contrast Mark 4:10, “those around him with the Twelve”), though the open-ended definition of discipleship in 12:50 means that what is said about the privilege of disciples applies more widely than only to the Twelve.

Mark 4:13 implies and Luke 8:9 states that the question was more specifically about the parable just given, not just about parables in general, and Matthew implies as much by supplying an interpretation of the parable of the sower after this more general paragraph. But the parable of the sower itself, as a parable about varied hearing of the message, already raises the wider question of why Jesus uses a method which produces such variation in response, and that broader question is tackled first. “In parables” in this context probably means simply “using the medium of parable,” but because parabolē includes the sense of “cryptic saying” (see on v. 3a) the question could also imply, “Why do you teach them so cryptically?” Why not spell things out for them?

11 In the narrative context the contrast between “you” and “them” refers in the first place to the disciples and the crowds on the shore respectively, but the principle is wider than that. There are (as we saw in 11:25–27) two classes of people, those to whom the secrets are revealed and those to whom they are not. The former class are disciples, in the broad sense set out in 12:50, those who appeared in the tableau at the end of ch. 12 as the insiders; others are “outside” (the term Mark actually uses here), not part of the new family to which one gains entry by belonging to Jesus. The life of discipleship has been described especially in chs. 5–7 as belonging to “the kingdom of heaven,” and so that phrase now sums up the principle which separates the two groups.

It is a “secret” in the sense that it is accessible only to the insiders. That does not mean that it is to be jealously guarded from others; indeed Mark adds in this context the saying “Nothing is hidden except in order to be revealed, or concealed except to become visible.” (Mark 4:22)10 It means rather that until those people become insiders they will not be able to grasp it. Only as disciples share “the message of the kingdom” (v. 19) and it is fruitfully received will the secret be communicated.

The Greek mystērion, which I have rendered by “secret,” should probably be understood against the background of its use in Daniel 2:18–19, 27–30, 47 (LXX and Thdt) to translate the Aramaic rāz;11 there God gives Daniel privileged access to the divine “secret” which other wise men have failed to penetrate, so that he can then communicate it to the king. Paul uses mystērion frequently for that which comes by revelation, not by natural insight. Cf. the “mystery religions” of the ancient world, which were characterized by carefully guarded secrecy, their “mysteries” being revealed only to initiates. Mystērion is therefore not well represented by the English word “mystery,” since in our idiom a “mystery” suggests something which is obscure or unfathomable in itself, whereas the divine message once revealed is not necessarily obscure or “mysterious.” “Secret” better conveys this idea in English idiom. Matthew and Luke put the term in the plural (in Mark it is singular), perhaps to indicate that what is at stake here is not a single item, but the whole new world of realities which opens up once one enters the kingdom of heaven. The passives “has been given,” “has not been given” should probably be taken as “divine passives;” the whole tenor of the passage, as of Daniel 2, is to focus on God as the one who reveals. Only when he does so does the truth become available.

12 This saying, which will recur in 25:29 to sum up the message of the parable of the talents, has a proverbial feel, and in Mark’s parable collection it occurs not at this point but as the last of a series of epigrams which reflect on the parabolic teaching method (Mark 4:21–25; the other sayings in that Marcan complex have already occurred in Matthew’s gospel). We have a similar saying: “Nothing succeeds like success.” It is a maxim drawn from the world of trade, and sums up all too well the capitalist system of economics and its effects on the “have-not” part of our modern world. But here it is not used literally. In the matter of spiritual perception too both gain and loss are compounded; it is the disciples, to whom the secret has already been given, who are now in a position to benefit from further teaching. Once you have started on the road of spiritual enlightenment, the blessings multiply, but those who do not accept the “message of the kingdom” will lose everything (v. 19).12 Luke, aware of the paradox of losing what you do not have, has rather pedantically explained it as losing what they “seem to” have (Luke 8:18),13 but proverbs thrive on paradox.

13 The disciples’ question is now given a direct answer by an appeal to OT precedent. Isaiah’s mission in Isa 6:9–10 was to speak to the people with the clear expectation, indeed the intention as the Hebrew text phrases it, that they would take no notice of the message and so would fail to repent and find the healing God could give. The second half of this verse summarizes the text by focusing on the key paradoxical phrases about seeing and hearing in Isa 6:9 (taken in reverse order, but reflecting the order of the second part of the chiasm in v. 10), with the important addition of the verb “understand” which is repeated in both vv. 9 and 10 of the Isaiah text, and will play a key role in the parable explanation in vv. 18–23. The summaries in Mark 4:12 and Luke 8:10 are similar, all reversing the order of the clauses in the same way, so that this is probably a traditional Christian summary of the passage, but the three synoptists vary in the degree of conciseness in their versions.

Much is often made of the different conjunctions used by Matthew (hoti, because)14 and by Mark and Luke (hina, in order that). It is assumed that Matthew’s version is a deliberate softening of the original saying, making the use of parables a response to the people’s obtuseness rather than the intended cause of it, a means of enlightenment for the otherwise unreachable, instead of a means of concealing truth from outsiders. There may be some truth in this suggestion, but it is not the panacea for the problems of this passage which it is sometimes supposed to be. Matthew, no less than Mark and Luke, has the secrets given to some and not to others in v. 11, and his v. 12 has compounded the inequality. Moreover, his full quotation of Isa 6:9–10 in vv. 14–15 makes explicit what is only implicit in the summary, that the people’s failure to understand keeps them from repenting and so from being healed. Set in that context, Matthew’s “because” does not seem so different from Mark’s “in order that”; intentions and results are blended into a scenario which is not at all hopeful for the enlightenment of the outsiders. “Because” does not in itself make the parables a means of curing the people’s blindness, but only a form of teaching appropriate to it.15 It will still be only the disciples who have the blessing of understanding (vv. 16–17). People will respond to parables according to their capacity, some with perception and some with dullness, and this is the way God intends it to be. See, however, the introductory comments above for what these verses do not say: it is possible for outsiders to become insiders, and we may assume that parables have a role, though not a guaranteed success, in this process of bringing sight to the blind and hearing to the deaf.

14–15 The paradoxical passage from Isa 6, on which v. 13 has been based, is important enough to be cited in full. Unlike the Matthean formula-quotations, which are given as editorial comments, this lengthy OT quotation is presented as part of Jesus’ speech. In other ways too it does not fit the pattern of Matthew’s formula-quotations,16 both in that the introductory formula is different17 and in that it uses the LXX text without variation, whereas the formula quotations typically display a mixed and creative form of Greek text. Instead of the verb plēroō, “fulfill,” which introduces the formula-quotations we have here the compound verb anaplēroō, not found elsewhere in the gospels, which is probably best taken here as a stylistic variant without difference of meaning.18 It is possible, however, that Matthew added the prefix ana- to mean “again,”19 or “to the top” (i.e. completely)20 so that the idea may be of a second fulfillment or the completion of a hitherto partial fulfillment: Isaiah’s prophecy was fulfilled in his own day (it was after all an instruction concerning Isaiah’s own mission to Judah), but now it is being “re-fulfilled” or brought to completion in21 Jesus’ contemporaries. The “they” to whom the prophecy is now applied are still those in vv. 11 and 13 to whom the secrets are not revealed.

The LXX version of Isa 6:9 translates woodenly the Hebrew emphatic idiom “hearing hear” and “seeing see,” which might better be conveyed by “Keep on hearing,” or “Hear as best you can,” but by putting it in the future indicative makes it into a prediction rather than a command.22 The rhetorical effect is however not very different. But in Isa 6:10 the LXX has made a more significant change, in that the command to the prophet to “Make this people’s heart fat” etc. has become in the LXX simply a statement of fact, introduced by “for:” this is the way the people already are, so your message is bound to leave them unenlightened. This not only blunts the sharp rhetorical effect of the Hebrew command, but also avoids the uncomfortable implication that it is the prophet’s job to ensure that the people will not respond. Even in the LXX form the text is a devastating indictment of the people’s condition, but at least it places the responsibility on them rather than on God and his prophet. Thus the robust Hebrew idiom, with its characteristic disregard of second causes, has been made more compatible with a Greek world-view.

Matthew uses the LXX form of the saying as the standard Greek form available to him, and not necessarily because it suits his purpose better than the Hebrew. But the LXX wording, “For the heart of this people …” does in fact cohere well with Matthew’s “because” in v. 13. Isaiah spoke as he did because the people were already unable to grasp his message, and Jesus likewise speaks in parables because of the crowd’s incapacity to hear with understanding. As a result the “lest (in order that not)” which in Mark 4:12 complements the earlier “in order that” to express the purpose of Jesus’ parabolic method, in Matthew expresses the inevitable result of the people’s self-hardening; and their failure to repent and find healing follows from that self-hardening rather than from a divine refusal to allow them scope to return. So Matthew’s full quotation of the LXX text has the same effect as his rewording of the summary in v. 13. But see comments there on the question of whether the overall theology of revelation in vv. 11–17 is in the end any less stark than that in Mark and Luke. The basic theme of “to some and not to others” remains.

16–17 A further saying underlines the privilege of the disciples as Jesus has stated it in v. 11. A version of this saying occurs also in Luke 10:23–24, where it immediately follows Luke’s equivalent to Matt 11:25–27, on the special insight granted to the “little ones,” a passage with a very similar message to this paragraph. This beatitude (see introductory comments on 5:3–10 for the beatitude form, and for the translation “Happy are …”), like those of 5:3–10, differentiates those so congratulated from others who have not received the same privilege. The contrast is first with the crowds, whose condition has just been described in terms of Isa 6:9–10: the disciples have eyes which really see (as opposed to seeing without seeing) and ears which really hear (as opposed to hearing without understanding). But there is a further contrast in v. 17, with people in the past who were in no way hardened against the truth (“prophets” and “righteous people”23 are by definition on the side of God and his truth rather than of human resistance to his word), but who lived too soon to see and hear what is now available to Jesus’ disciples. The prophets looked forward to the day of eschatological restoration, to the coming of what Jesus now calls “the kingdom of heaven,” but saw it only in prefiguration and promise, not in existential reality. For all their eagerness to see God’s purpose fulfilled, they “could not without us be made complete” (Heb 11:40; cf. Heb 11:13). Like Abraham, who “rejoiced to see my day” (John 8:56), the prophets spoke of “the grace given to you”, aware that their service was not for their own benefit but for “yours,” things which even angels are agog to get a glimpse of (1 Pet 1:10–12)! There is an incredulous wonder running through these NT reflections on the privilege of those who live at the time when God’s saving purpose comes to fruition. Contrast the beatitudes in Ps. Sol. 17:44; 18:6, which are at first sight similar to the present text but which relate to those who will see an eschatological blessing still in the future. It is this eschatological secret that Jesus’ disciples have now been let into, and so to them the parables of the kingdom of heaven convey not puzzlement but enlightenment. And to make sure that they do not miss it, Jesus will now go on to spell it all out for them.

4. Explanation of the Parable of the Sower (13:18–23)

18“So you must listen to [the meaning of]1 the parable of the sower. 19When anyone hears the message of the kingdom and does not understand it, the Evil One comes and snatches what was sown in their heart; this is the person2 sown beside the path. 20The person sown on the rocky area is the one who hears the message and quickly accepts it with enthusiasm 21but has no root in himself3 but rather is short-lived and immediately stumbles when suffering or persecution arises on account of the message. 22The person sown among thorns is the one who hears the message, but the worries4 of this world5 and the false lure6 of wealth choke the message and it cannot produce a crop. 23The person sown in good soil is the one who hears the message and understands it; this one does indeed produce a crop, yielding in one case a hundred-fold, in another sixty-fold and in another thirty-fold.”

We noted in the introductory comments on vv. 3–9 that earlier interpretation of this parable often tended to focus on the eventual harvest rather than on the details of the seed which failed. As long as it was assumed that this was Jesus’ intention in telling the story, the “allegorical” interpretation supplied in this paragraph was inevitably dismissed as an early misinterpretation—early enough to have found its way into all three synoptic versions, while the supposedly original intention has left no trace. More recent interpreters have been less convinced of the dogma of the one-point parable, and have been more willing to take each parable on its own terms.7 When the parable of the sower is approached in that way, an interpretation which takes up each of the four scenes in turn and explains how they relate to the realities of the proclamation of the kingdom of God appears much more plausible, not only as representing how the early church explained the parable, but also as reflecting the sort of application Jesus himself must have had in mind when he told it.8

Such a conclusion is the more compelling when vv. 18–23 are taken not as an isolated tract but as part of the development of the discourse as a whole. The fact that the explanation does not follow immediately after the telling of the parable alerts us to the significance of what has come between. The interpretive phrase “the message of the kingdom” (v. 19) takes up the theme of understanding the “secrets of the kingdom of heaven” in v. 11, and vv. 11–17 have explored the different ways in which that message has been received. So the explanation of the parable focuses on the theme of “hearing the message,”9 and just as vv. 11–17 have given equal or even greater prominence to those who have failed to “hear” it properly, so also the explanation (like the parable itself) will deal at greater length with the seeds which failed. There is, then, a coherence about the whole section with which Matthew introduces the discourse, and the burden of proof must surely rest on those who continue to allege that he has himself failed to understand the parable. Increasingly in modern interpretation that position is being abandoned.10

Another reason for claiming that this explanatory paragraph could not have come from Jesus himself is the common assertion that parables in the nature of the case need, and indeed allow, no explanation, and that Jesus always left them uninterpreted, leaving his hearers to work out for themselves what he was talking about. But the gospels do not support that assertion. Nor does the Jewish parable tradition, as exemplified in Nathan’s famous, “You are the man.” (2 Sam 12:7)11 Even apart from the two lengthy explanations in this chapter (vv. 18–23, 37–43 and cf. the shorter explanation in vv. 49–50), parables in all strands of the synoptic tradition often carry clear pointers to their application either in the wording of the parable itself,12 or in the surrounding context,13 or in accompanying editorial comments.14 It is of course possible arbitrarily to declare all such hints unauthentic, but the device wears thin after a time. Clearly the gospel writers did not think that Jesus never gave any indication of what his parables were about. The point is not that they should not be explained, but that those explanations are not for everyone. That is precisely the point of this paragraph, directed as it is specifically to the disciples and not to the crowds.

In the narrative context the primary point of this paragraph is to explain the mixed response to the Galilean ministry of Jesus as chs. 11–12 have outlined it. The disciples were to take courage at that time from recognizing that there is fruitful as well as unfruitful seed, and that where the seed has not grown the fault lies in the soil rather than in the message itself. But the types of soil are described not in terms of any particular group or groups, whether during Jesus’ ministry or subsequently, but in general categories which may be applicable in many different times and situations within Christian history. Even as “interpreted” the parable therefore remains open-ended in terms of its pastoral application. The careful spelling out of the successive agricultural hazards therefore probably justifies the use to which the parable has been most frequently put in subsequent Christian exposition, as a basis for those who hear it, even within the disciple community, to examine their own openness to God’s message and the fruitfulness or otherwise of their response. The slogan “Whoever has ears, let them hear” (v. 9) invites such an application. Unreceptiveness, shallowness and preoccupation with this age are problems not exclusively experienced by those outside the group, and even within the disciple community there are different levels of fruitfulness.

Each of the synoptic writers seems to have found it difficult to express concisely how the scenes of the story relate to people who hear the message, and each has gone about the task slightly differently. The story is about the sowing of seed (the “message of the kingdom”), but its moral is found in the different fates which await that (same) seed in different types of soil. Matthew’s way of expressing this is clear enough, but strictly inaccurate in that he speaks of each hearer as being the seed rather than the soil15 but then speaks of how they “hear the message”. In the first scene (v. 19) the identification of the person as seed comes at the end, but before that we hear of the seed sown in the heart of that person. In the rest of the scenes the identification comes first, followed by a description of the results of hearing, which is expressed sometimes in human terms (“enthusiasm,” “suffering or persecution,” “stumble,” “the worries of this world and the false lure of wealth,” “hears and understands”) and sometimes in terms of the seed (“have no root,” “choke,” “produce a crop,” “yielding a hundred-fold” etc.). The resultant blending of image and application might not satisfy a pedant, but it does communicate vividly.

18 The emphatic “You therefore” with which the explanation opens links it closely with vv. 11 and 16–17, where it is “you” (the disciples of v. 10) who have been given the privilege of knowing the secrets in explicit distinction from “them” (the crowds), and “you” who have the privilege of seeing and hearing what even God’s special people in the past have not been able to perceive. By giving them the explanation which follows Jesus will reinforce that privilege; the parable which others must work out as best they can is to be explicitly interpreted for them. And the parable itself is about their privileged position, since they, we may assume, are represented by the good soil in contrast to the rest of people who hear but do not understand. It is a parable about “understanding” (vv. 19, 23, taking up the key term introduced in vv. 13–15, for which see above). It is remarkable that, despite the title “parable of the sower”, we are given no identification of the sower himself (probably in the first instance Jesus himself, as in v. 37, but in principle also applicable to any preacher of the gospel?); the focus falls entirely on the fate of the seed.

19 The key interpretive phrase is “the message of the kingdom” (repeated in the abbreviated form “the message” in vv. 20, 22, 23), which is itself an abbreviation referring back to the full phrase “the kingdom of heaven” in v. 11.16 It is this message which Jesus has been proclaiming since 4:17,17 and which has been received in such a varied way in the narratives of chs. 11–12. This parable therefore aims to explain that varied response to Jesus’ proclamation. In every case the message is “heard;” what matters is what happens next. The failure of the first seed to penetrate the earth symbolizes lack of “understanding,” a term which has been prominent in the quotation of Isaiah’s prophecy in the preceding verses (three times in vv. 13–15). It will occur several more times to denote that extra dimension which will take the disciples beyond merely hearing what Jesus says to grasping its true meaning (13:23, 51; 15:10; 16:12; 17:13).18 The inability to get below the surface which Isaiah had prophesied is here attributed not, as it is apparently in Isaiah (and in Matthew’s use of the Isaiah passage), to the purpose of God, but to the “Evil One.”19 See above p. 193, n. 55, and p. 231, n. 14, for this title for Satan; its personal reference is clear here, where the nominative form is unambiguously masculine, and in vv. 38–39 it will be used in close parallel to “the devil.” Mark here uses “Satan,” and Luke “the devil.” For the possibility in Jewish thought of the same effect being traced both to God and to Satan see on 4:1.

20–21 In the second scene the situation is initially hopeful. The “enthusiasm” of these hearers suggests the crowds who have followed Jesus so eagerly since 4:24–25, and who form the audience for the parables in this chapter, but who remain distinct from the disciples and do not share their “understanding.” In Jesus’ last days in Jerusalem there will be nothing to be seen of these enthusiastic followers from the early days, while the disciples, even if they fail at the last moment, are at least still there with Jesus. Note that these people are said to “hear” and “receive” the message, but not to “understand.” The problem is lack of roots “in themselves;” their enthusiasm is based on external stimulus, not on inner conviction, and so it will not last when the external is no longer there. The scorching sun represents the fact that following Jesus will not always be fun. It is no guarantee against “suffering”—the term often includes, but does not exclusively mean, trouble caused by other people. Indeed it brings trouble of its own, since the same “message” which brings enlightenment can also bring persecution from those who do not accept it (cf. 5:11; 10:16–33; 24:9–13). In such circumstances those without roots are liable to “stumble:” see on 5:29–30 for the range of meaning of this verb (here expressed in the passive, they “are made to stumble”). Here, as opposed to 11:6, we should probably read the verb in its more drastic sense which I described as “a stumbling which deflects a person from the path of God’s will and salvation,” since the imagery in the parable is of being completely shriveled up. These “rootless” people, for all their initial enthusiasm, are in the end no less neutralized than the “snatched” seed of v. 19 as far as the kingdom of heaven is concerned.

22 The hazard represented by the thorns is one which is a prominent feature of Jesus’ teaching,20 and which will be exemplified in the story of the young man who turned back from following Jesus because he had “many possessions” (19:16–22); true disciples, by contrast, have “left everything” (19:27; cf. 4:20, 22; 9:9). The echo of 6:25–43 (cf. also Luke 21:34) in the word “worries” reminds us of the priorities set out in the discourse on discipleship. A concern with possessions betrays a focus on “this world” which is in tension with commitment to the kingdom of heaven; cf. 6:19–21, 24 on where the heart should be. That tension is symbolized in the “choking” of the grain, there is not room for both God and Mammon to take priority in a person’s allegiance. The idea that wealth is “deceitful” is well established in Wisdom literature (e.g. Prov 11:28; 23:4–5); it promises a security which it cannot deliver. This grain too, while it may survive (though “choke” casts some doubt on that), will produce no crop for the kingdom of heaven.

23 Here is a direct antithesis to v. 19: the “understanding” which was explicitly absent there is now at last achieved. The bearing of a crop indicates that this “understanding” is not to be interpreted as a purely intellectual grasp of truth; it is rather the lifestyle commitment which the “message of the kingdom of heaven” demands and which has been thwarted by adverse circumstances and divided loyalties in the previous two scenes. But the fact that a singular person “sown in good soil” is then subdivided into three different levels of yield21 suggests that we are intended to notice the variety of productivity. Disciples are not all the same, and so equally genuine disciples may produce different levels of crop, depending on their different gifts and circumstances. A similar point will be made by the differing returns achieved by the two successful slaves in the parable of the talents (25:15–17), though in that case both returned a 100% increase; it was their initial endowment that differed. Cf. also the equal reward for unequal work in 20:1–15. Such parabolic motifs discourage an approach to discipleship which focuses on “keeping up with the Joneses;” the requirement is to produce the best crop each is capable of, and to recognize that not all will be the same. It should be noted that the variation here is in the disciples’ “productivity,” not in their heavenly reward—indeed 20:1–15 does not allow us to extrapolate the imagery in that way.

In accordance with English idiom I have used the term “crop” in relation to grain (vv. 8, 22, 23), but the hearer of Matthew’s gospel in Greek would not have failed to notice that the Greek term karpos is the same which has been translated “fruit” in 3:8, 10; 7:16–20; 12:33, and will be so translated again in 21:19, 34, 41, 43. It is an important Matthean image for the practical outworking of a commitment to God’s service, and it is the mark of genuineness (see on 7:16–20). A fruitless hearer of the message (and the first three types of soil all proved fruitless in the end) is of no more use than a fruitless fig-tree (21:19).

5. Three Further Parables of Growth (13:24–33)

24He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven can be compared to1 a man who sowed good seed in his field. 25But while people were asleep his enemy came and made a further sowing2 of weeds in among the wheat and went away. 26When the plants sprouted and produced a crop, then the weeds became visible as well. 27The slaves of the master of the house came to him and said, ‘Master, didn’t you sow good seed in your field? So where have the weeds come from?’ 28He replied, ‘It is an enemy who has done this.’ The slaves said to him, ‘So do you want us to go and pull out the weeds?’ 29‘No,’ he said, ‘in case while you are pulling up the weeds you might uproot the wheat along with them. 30Leave them both to grow together until harvest, and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, “First gather up the weeds and tie them in bundles to burn them up; but collect the wheat into my barn”.’ ”

31He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and sowed in his field. 32It is smaller than all other seeds, but when it grows it is bigger than the vegetables and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the sky can come and roost3 in its branches.”

33He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like leaven,4 which a woman took and hid in three large measures5 of flour until the dough had all risen.”

The audience for vv. 10–23 was the disciples, in distinction from the crowds. No change of audience is indicated here,6 but in v. 34 it will become clear that these three parables too have been told to the crowds, and another change of audience will need to be stated in v. 36 for a return to private teaching for the disciples. We must therefore assume that at this point the public teaching which was broken off in v. 10 is resumed.

This group of parables7 continues the theme of growth, two of them, like the parable of the sower, concerning seed, the third leaven which causes the growth of the dough. All are explicitly about “the kingdom of heaven,” and describe different aspects of the new reality which has come into being through Jesus’ ministry. All three include, though they do not necessarily focus on, the patience which is needed before God’s purpose is fulfilled in all its glory. The parables of the mustard seed and the leaven form a natural pair which speak encouragingly of spectacular growth from insignificant beginnings, and they will be commented on together. But the parable of the weeds stands apart from them in that it, like the sower, draws attention to problems and division as well as to the ultimate harvest. It is also distinctive in that it, like the sower, will receive a detailed explanation in vv. 37–43, while the mustard seed and the leaven remain uninterpreted. I am therefore commenting on this group of parables into two sections.