Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
NOTE: This series is a work in progress. See Part 1 updates including bibliography in progress. As I add sources and update past posts I will continue to expand the bibliography.
Those who oppose identifying Peter as the rock on which the church is built in Matthew 16:18 typically interpose one or more of the following textual objections.
First, they rely on the opposition of the terms themselves: Petra is solid rock, petros, a detached stone; they cannot mean the same thing. If Jesus had meant to say he would build his church on Peter, they argue, he could have used the same word both times. In addition, some point to certain extra-Matthean passages (e.g., 1 Cor 3:11,1 Cor 10:4, 1 Peter 2:6ff) to argue that Jesus alone is the foundation stone; he would never speak of building his church on a fallible, sinful man like Peter.
None of these objections withstands scrutiny.
Begin with petra and petros. We have already seen in Part 5 that the distinction between petra and petros, never absolute, had become increasingly fuzzy and that the terms could be used interchangeably. This has now become commonplace in Protestant commentators (F. F. Bruce, D. A. Carson, Walter Elwell, etc.; documentation to come) after being highlighted by Oscar Cullman in the 10-volume Theological Dictionary of the New Testament (Kittel 6:98-108).
In particular, documentation of the ambiguity and interchangeability of the two words has been compiled by Caragounis, who cites many instances in both secular and biblical Greek of petra as a movable stone, petros as solid rock, and both words being used indeterminately to mean such things as the substance of stone, etc. (Caragounis 10-15. Note that, despite this, Caragounis argues against the identification of Peter as the rock.)
But that’s only the first problem. Even if it were possible to make a clear opposition between the terms, that still wouldn’t prevent Jesus or anyone else from playing on two disparate words to refer to the same reality. A difference in image does not entail a difference in referent.
To give a trivial example, suppose I saw my six-year-old daughter Anna wrestling with all her might with one of her older brothers, and I said to my wife Suzanne, “Look at the kitten. There’s a wildcat in here.” Obviously kittens and wildcats are two different things, but Suzanne would hardly reason that if the kitten is Anna, the wildcat must be something else.
Kittens and wildcats are different things, but they are used here as parallel images. It is synthetic and amplifying parallelism because the second image builds and expands upon the first. There is a deliberate and ironic contrast between the first image and the second, but also obviously a connection between the two (I didn’t pick two feline images by accident). The first image might suggest something about Anna’s habitual temperament (e.g., playfulness) as well as her relative stature, maturity and appearance (e.g., cuteness); the second image offers a contrasting observation about her current disposition and behavior (unexpected ferocity), supplying a side of Anna missing in the first image.
In a not dissimilar vein, suppose we were to grant opponents of the Petrine reading their best-case scenario, and give maximal, even exaggerated force to the traditional difference between the two words, rendering Jesus’ words as: “I say to you, you are a pebble, and on this solid rock I will build my church.” Would it then follow that the “solid rock” must mean something other than the “pebble”?
Not at all. A difference in image does not entail a difference in referent. Even granting differing shades of meaning between petra and petros, the differences don’t provide the leverage needed to avoid the conclusion that Jesus is talking about Peter right through the passage. The effective interchangeability of the two words merely underscores the point.
In particular, that it is Jesus himself speaking, and that he has already spoken about Peter’s confession coming “not by flesh and blood” but by the Father’s gift, further eradicates any difficulty about seeing continuity of thought rather than disjunction. If for Jesus the very rocks will cry out (Luke 19:40), at his word a pebble can be a mighty rock and a sure foundation. We may think here of Jesus’ words to Peter in Luke 22 (Part 3), in which he prayed that Simon’s faith might not fail, that he might strengthen his brethren: praying that weak, stumbling Simon might be a firm rock.
There is a third issue, the Aramaic question. The probability that Jesus and his disciples spoke customarily Aramaic among themselves is heightened in this passage by indications of underlying Aramaic, not least the transliterated Aramaic of Simon’s existing surname, bar-Jona. (Bar-Jona, “son of John,” is Aramaic; the Hebrew form would be ben-Jona.) Semitisms like flesh and blood, the gates of hades, binding and loosing, and heaven and earth also suggest an original Hebraic context.
The Aramaic is also suggested by Jesus’ emphatic reference to Peter’s new surname. Though Matthew gives this using the familiar Greek form Petros, it is likely (as previously noted, in view of the early use of Kephas in 1 Corinthians and Galatians 1-2 as well as John 1:42) that the original form of Peter’s surname was Aramaic Kepha, followed by Grecized Kephas, and finally the Greek translation Petros. Had Jesus given Simon the fully Greek form Petros from the start, it seems unlikely that the Grecized Aramaic form Kephas would ever have arisen. (This point seems to be overlooked by many commentators, particularly in debates over the original language behind Matthew 16.)
For all these reasons, it seems highly probable that Matthew 16:17-19 reflects a conversation that originally occurred in Aramaic, and that “You are Petros” translates “You are Kepha.” How did the saying continue? Was it “You are Kepha, and on this kepha I will build my church”? This is how the text is rendered in the Peshitta, the standard Aramaic translation of the New Testament, and many scholars regard it as the likely Aramaic original. I haven’t yet seen any convincing scholarly proposal of an alternate Aramaic original, though it does seem more likely than not that if Jesus had wanted another word he would have had options.
If Jesus repeated the same Aramaic word in both places, why wouldn’t the inspired Greek text of Matthew translate it the same way both times? To begin with, “You are Petros” is obviously the correct translation of the first clause, not only because of gender, but even more because Petros was Peter’s established name by the time Matthew wrote his Gospel. (Many commentators seem to forget this point, suggesting that Matthew had his choice of rock language, as if Mark’s Gospel and the previous dozen or so chapters of Matthew’s Gospel hadn’t been written; as if Peter hadn’t been Petros for decades.)
Could Matthew have gone on to render “upon this kepha” as “upon this petros,” given the relative interchangeability of petra and petros? Possibly, though the rarity of the common noun petros, which appears in the New Testament only as Peter’s name, and is all but absent in the Septuagint, may be a factor. If not necessarily denotatively different, petra offers resonances missing from petros; for example, echoing the parable of the wise and foolish builders in Matthew 7:24ff, in which the wise man builds upon petra (the natural word there) — a resonance Matthew may have wanted. It is also possible that varying the cognates seemed to the inspired Evangelist better Greek style than merely repeating the same word.
It might even be that for Matthew’s original readers, Petros was so well established as Peter’s name that repeating petros in the second line could have had a somewhat odd or counter-intuitive effect, not necessarily the same as, but not entirely unlike saying in English, “You are Peter, and on this Peter I will build my church.” Everyone knew, of course, that petros was also a word meaning rock or stone, but in everyday usage it would always be petra for rock and Petros for Peter’s name.
As the above consideration suggests, even if Jesus originally used the same Aramaic word twice referring to Peter both times, there is still a subtle conceptual distinction that would be implicit in Jesus’ original words, but highlighted by the inspired Matthean use of Petros and petra. This conceptual distinction would be glossed over in spoken Aramaic, and even in writing it would be invisible in a single-case script like Aramaic or first-century Greek, though in case-differentiated alphabets we may bring it out by capitalizing the first letter of Kepha and not of kepha, or for that matter of Petros and not of petra (the italics tell the same story).
It is the distinction between a proper noun and a common noun, Rock as appellation and rock as image. “You are Kepha” or “You are Petros” invokes Rock as proper noun, as appellation; “upon this kepha” or “upon this petra” invokes rock as common noun, as image. (As an aside, I’m not sure why some commentators seem to feel that the status of Rock as appellation is somehow entangled in questions about whether Kepha/Petros was already established as a given name, or whether Jesus was bestowing Peter’s surname or merely referencing it. As far as I can see, the apparent originality of Kepha as an appellation is no obstacle to Jesus using it as such, nor is it necessary to suppose that Jesus didn’t reinforce the surname on other occasions (cf. John 1:42, Luke 22:34). And, as we saw in Part 6, whether Jesus is bestowing Peter’s surname or merely referencing and explaining it doesn’t much affect the meaning of the passage, which at least has the force of an enactment similar to the renaming of Abraham and Sarah.)
Spoken out loud in Aramaic as Kepha and kepha, there may not have been any audible distinction between Rock as appellation and rock as image (nor would there be any difference in written Aramaic). The single word kepha, like French Pierre (Peter) and pierre (rock), would have been equally serviceable as an appellation and as a common noun. The inspired Greek text of Matthew, by using cognates rather than the same word, would make the conceptual distinction explicit, perhaps because of the familiarity of Petros as an appellation by that point. Petros tells us who the rock is, petra tells us what it means for him to be a rock in relation to Jesus building his church.
If Jesus said “You are Kepha, and on this kepha,” Matthew’s inspired Greek rendering as “You are Petros, and on this petra” slightly bends the original word-play (if indeed word-play is the right word) while maintaining the phonetic echo of the same root between the two lines. On the other hand, if Jesus used two unrelated Aramaic words, Matthew’s use of the cognate terms Petros and petra (rather than two unrelated Greek words) strengthens the connection, making the case for Peter as the rock stronger and more intuitive.
If the former, Jesus’ repetition of the same Aramaic word offers no slightest obstacle to identifying Peter as the rock; if the latter, Matthew’s translation offers inspired interpretive context, indicating that what Jesus said using two unrelated words can be understood in cognate, interchangeable terms.
The second objection, that other passages of scripture (1 Cor 3:11, 1 Cor 10:4, 1 Peter 2:6ff) teach that Jesus is the foundation stone, is even less persuasive.
First, some preliminary notes. It should be recognized that this objection is not merely an argument against Peter as the rock, but an argument for one specific alternative rock, Jesus himself — not Peter’s faith, Peter’s confession, the truth Peter has confessed, etc. Those who advocate for any of those other “rocks” gain no support by appealing to Jesus the foundation stone.
Second, the extra-Matthean texts often cited in this connection actually offer varying images. 1 Corinthians 3:11 calls Jesus the “foundation,” but 1 Peter 2:6ff calls him “a cornerstone chosen and precious” — not a foundation, nor bedrock or solid rock, but a detached stone (lithos) that has been cut and placed. For that matter, 1 Corinthians 3:11 also does not describe bedrock or solid rock, since Paul speaks of laying the foundation, i.e., a foundation of laid stones. Even so, 1 Corinthians 3 makes Jesus the whole foundation, while 1 Peter 2:6 merely makes him the cornerstone, part of a larger foundation. As for 1 Corinthians 10:4 — the only verse that actually uses petra — the “rock” that followed the Hebrews in the wilderness is not a foundational stone of any kind; nothing is built on it.
We have seen that different images can have the same referent. But the reverse is also true: A single image can be used of different referents — and foundational imagery is applied in different ways in the New Testament. Most notably, Ephesians 2:20 repeats the image of Christ as cornerstone, but adds “the foundation of the apostles and prophets.” A variation on this image appears in Revelation 21:14, where John speaks of “twelve foundations” bearing the names of the twelve apostles. Neither of these describes Jesus as the sole foundation, as per 1 Corinthians 3. (For more, see Jimmy’s brief essay “The Church’s Five Foundations.”)
In the case of Matthew 16:18, moreover, Jesus explicitly gives himself a role other than foundation or cornerstone: He is the one building on the rock. While a single referent can have multiple images, the image of building on the rock is essentially one image, not two. To construe Jesus as saying “Upon me I will build” seems odd to say the least — particularly coming from those who claim that a “stone” and a “rock” can never be the same thing, but now have no trouble imagining a builder who is also a foundation building on himself! (Incidentally, note the contrast with 1 Corinthians 3, where Paul speaks of others building on the foundation of Jesus. Sometimes others build on Jesus; sometimes Jesus builds on others.)
It should be noted that Jesus does not actually speak here of a “foundation,” but only of building his church upon “this rock.” The intended image here may be foundational bedrock (as per the parable of the wise and foolish builders), but it could also be that “this rock” is not the entire foundation, but part of a larger foundation — one of a number of foundation-stones, perhaps, as in Ephesians 2:20 and Revelation 21:14. One could argue, then, that just as Jesus here confers on Peter the power of binding and loosing, but later confers the same power on the company of the Twelve (Matt 18:18), so Jesus here speaks of building the church on Peter, but not in a sense that would exclude all of the apostles together forming the church’s foundation. In that case, the images in Matthew 16:18 and Ephesians 2:20 would be convergent, not disparate.
On the other hand, the echo of building upon petra from Matthew 7:24 supports the reading of “upon this rock” as “with this rock as the foundation.” Perhaps this reading is to be preferred.
In Part 6, we saw that the phrase “this rock” implies an antecedent, the closer, the more plausible. “You are Petros,” joined by “and” (copulative kai) to the following clause, is clearly some sort of deliberate antecedent to “upon this rock,” even on the theory that Jesus was only punning on Peter’s name and changing the subject. We are clearly meant to connect Petros and “this rock,” at least on the level of word-play.
Beyond that, the structure of Matthew 16:17-19, with its threefold declarations to and about Peter, followed by explanatory couplets, strongly implies that the entire complex saying is directed to Peter and expounds his role in God’s plan. Peter is directly addressed and spoken about immediately before “upon this rock” (“You are Peter”) and immediately after (“I give you the keys of the kingdom”). Identifying Peter as the rock provides the natural connection between the two adjacent clauses.
Finally, it is not hard to see what it would mean for Jesus to speak of building the church on Peter. All the apostles are foundation-stones, and Peter’s preeminence among the Twelve — a preeminence affirmed by Jesus himself, as seen in Luke 22, John 21 and now our present text — has been sufficiently documented. Few would dispute that Peter played a foundational role in the apostolic church. Whether “this rock” is foundational bedrock or a foundation-stone among others, there is no difficulty understanding that the church that is built on all of the apostles is in a special way built upon Peter.
The only remaining question is whether there is a sufficiently strong reason — it would have to be a slam-dunk reason — to avoid the obvious identification of Petros with “this rock,” and begin casting about for other more remote “rocks.” Neither the differences in the two terms Petros and petra, nor Jesus’ status as rock and foundation in other scriptural texts, offers such a reason. The only plausible conclusion is that Peter is in fact the rock on which Christ builds his church.
This need not be understood to elevate Peter above the Twelve, nor does it imply any unique virtue or merit on Peter’s part. It merely emphasizes Peter’s unique place among the Twelve, partly because of his personality, perhaps, but also partly because of Jesus’ choice. Peter is in a unique and preeminent way what all of the apostles are collectively. They are all foundation stones; Peter is surnamed Petros and declared to be the rock on which the church is built. In the same way, all the apostles are witnesses of the resurrection, but Christ appeared first to Peter; in the same way Christ gave to Peter the solemn threefold commission to tend his sheep, though all the apostles are shepherds.
Still less does Peter’s privilege infringe on Jesus’ divine prerogatives. The church, like the sheep, belong to Jesus, not Peter (“my church”; “my sheep”). Christ is the active agent building the church; Peter, like any of the apostles, is merely his instrument — though an instrument he singles out again and again.
Jesus does not give Peter license to conduct himself however he wills; the shepherd caring for the sheep of another cannot abuse or slaughter the sheep at will, nor can the foundation overturn the structure built upon it. In another moment, Jesus will rebuff Peter in the sternest way imaginable, and even after Pentecost it may be necessary for others to oppose Peter to his face.
None of this alters Jesus’ plain intent for the crucial, singular, foundational role that Peter will play. Whatever Peter’s failings, Jesus makes no provision for any church that is not built upon this rock.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Steven – any chance of your making the whole essay available as a download sometime – maybe a .pdf?
jj
Count on it. 🙂
I shall look forward to it. I have friends I would like to pass it on to and as a single formatted document it might be easier to get them to read.
jj
The only remaining question is whether there is a sufficiently strong reason — it would have to be a slam-dunk reason — to avoid the obvious identification of Petros with “this rock,” and begin casting about for other more remote “rocks.”
SDG,
You have done (and continue to do) a remarkable job in fleshing out and defending the historical Christian view of Peter’s special role in the formation of the Church.
But the sentence I quoted above is, for me, the pivot around which everything turns.
It boggles my mind that anyone should have to do such defending, when the plain meaning of the text itself affirms (not surprisingly) the nearly 2,000-year-old belief of the Catholic Church.
It should not be up to Catholics to explain themselves into Peter as Rock; it should be up to others to explain it away.
Thank you for continuing this series.
The only remaining question is whether there is a sufficiently strong reason — it would have to be a slam-dunk reason — to avoid the obvious identification of Petros with “this rock,”
That begs the question, “If there is no sufficiently strong reason, then why didn’t Jesus just say ‘and on you’ instead of ‘and on this rock’?” If Jesus had a reason, would it not be “sufficiently strong”? At least in English, many of my English teachers would knock points off for a sentence like “You are Peter and on this rock I will build my church” unless there were a good reason to say “this rock” and not simply “you”. And if I were to argue a reason, the easiest one to convince them might be that I was not using “this rock” to refer to “Peter” but rather to the whole declaration “You are Peter”. I might say, “It’s like saying ‘You are strong, and on the rock of truth that you are strong I will build my church’.” Or, I might say, “It’s the difference between a thing and a declaration of its being. The thing itself can be quite weak in many ways, but the declaration of its being is rock.” I might even bring SDG with me to testify as he has that “‘You are Petros’… is clearly some sort of deliberate antecedent” to “this rock”. Then I would see a variety of looks on the faces of the English teachers. Some would shrug and say it’s Greek to them, a few might give me back points while others would perhaps return to a smug scowl and say “this rock” is simply wrong. If it were a religion or philosophy class, the discussion could perhaps continue.
(Or, I might not. The almighty might.)
The only plausible conclusion is that Peter is in fact the rock on which Christ builds his church.
…in your opinion of the limited alternatives you’ve examined. I asked another person and he said, “The only plausible conclusion is that we can’t be sure.” Do you want it filed alongside “‘the only plausible conclusion’ is that there are no extraterrestrials” and “‘the only plausible conclusion’ is that there is no God” and “‘the only plausible conclusion’ is that there are no miracles”? It’s tea for the celestial teapot.
And did you follow up on what you had posted earlier about “Petros” meaning “firstborn” as in “You are firstborn (among my followers)”?
“And on you” would not as clearly convey the image of building on a rock. The sentence as it stands uses rock first as appellation and then as image. Dropping the image in favor of a second personal pronoun would be dropping the image.
It’s a good question tho, I should work it into the post.
The reason in question would be an exegetical one, not a dominical one.
Perhaps you might first ask them if they recognize that there is wordplay in the passage. If they can follow that, they can follow my point.
Yes. I am making an argument and it is not a deductive proof from undoubted premises, so the certitude of the conclusion, as with any such argument, is necessarily not absolute but a matter of degree, subject to cross-examination and ongoing defense. That doesn’t mean we can’t achieve a high degree of certitude.
My contention is that this is far and away the best and most persuasive picture that emerges from the puzzle pieces on the table, and that reasonable people, to the degree that they are reasonable, will recognize this. Someone can always try to make another picture of the pieces, but I contend that such efforts fail, and I have confidence in the strength of this construction to withstand such cross-examination.
Alternatively, someone might suppose that 95 percent of the puzzle has been lost and the illusion of a picture is an artifact of the limitations of the data. While I think that this argument can be met on its own terms, in the context of the present discussion it is sufficient to say that I trust God and am willing to work with the available pieces, and that my argument is addressed to others who likewise trust God and have confidence in whatever picture most persuasively emerges from the available pieces.
Someone who does not trust God will have to wait for another discussion addressed to his condition. Likewise with extraterrestrials I have no such impetus to assume that whatever puzzle pieces are put forward in that regard are likely to compose a meaningful picture from which we might make confident statements one way or the other.
Not at this time, but I haven’t forgotten it.
IMO, a saying that Jesus was going to build His Church a church on a person– that is, on the person’s physical body– would be pretty bad imagery. Of course Jesus is using the word “build” in a figurative sense, but I would think most English teachers would say that once you start a physical figure of speech like that, you should see it through.
“And on you” would not as clearly convey the image of building on a rock.
While “and on this rock I will build my church” makes clear the image of building on a rock, it does not make clear who or what “this” rock is. Combining “and on this rock” with “you are petros” is suggestive but it does not make clear that “this rock” refers to Peter rather than to the entire declaration “you are petros” or whatever. Was Jesus trying to be vague? Was he on a word budget?
Perhaps you might first ask them if they recognize that there is wordplay in the passage. If they can follow that, they can follow my point.
That would be like asking them if they recognize it as unclear, clever, playing a game, vague, jello, fog, white crayon, puzzling, etc. That has been your point about wordplay for quite some time, has it not?
My contention is that this is far and away the best and most persuasive picture that emerges from the puzzle pieces on the table… I have confidence in the strength of this construction to withstand such cross-examination.
What is the antecedent to “this” in your contention? If your contention is “this is far and away the best and most persuasive picture that emerges from the puzzle pieces on the table” that does not necessitate “the only plausible conclusion is that Peter is in fact the rock on which Christ builds his church” as you previously contended. Even if it’s the “most persuasive” that you’ve presented, it does not mean it’s “the only plausible” in reality. My friend still says “The only plausible conclusion is that we can’t be sure” and that such conclusion withstands cross-examination. Indeed, people from around the world have cross-examined him for years and he still says the same thing.
My contention is that… reasonable people, to the degree that they are reasonable, will [agree with me].
Asylums are filled with people who contend as much. When I gave up contention, I got early release.
If Jesus did not intend that the Rock should be identified with the person of Peter, why in the world did he change Simon’s name to “Rock”?
He re-named Simon “Rock”.
That’s a pretty big clue to anyone who might be entertaining the idea that the rock Jesus spoke of was something else other than Peter.
It’s as if he hung a sign around Peter’s neck… “ROCK”, and then said “On this rock I will build my Church.”
If the rock was supposed to be something besides Peter, then Jesus totally muddied the issue by naming Peter “Rock”.
If you wanted to pick on Jesus for being unclear, there are any number of passages that would make a better place to start than Matthew 16:13ff. It does seem safe to say that in general Jesus had other priorities than eliminating all possibility of exegetical controversy. In the context of Jesus’ overall teaching, the rest of the passage in question, and the rest of the NT evidence, the meaning of “upon this rock” is quite clear.
No.
I have spoken openly to the world; I have said nothing secretly. Why do you ask me what I said?
If you wanted to pick on Jesus for being unclear
I’d cry over spilled milk first.
Why do you ask me what I said?
I didn’t ask you what you said so much as ask what you meant. I might also have asked if “this” had any antecedent at all, as some people use it without antecedent, sometimes even religiously. In this instance, even though I might well guess what “this” referred to, I thought it well to ask given that your previous apparent contention was different than the one you subsequently presented, suggesting that perhaps “this” might have changed somewhat with it.
If the rock was supposed to be something besides Peter, then Jesus totally muddied the issue by naming Peter “Rock”.
What’s a little mud? The lotus rises from the mud pristine. Jesus did say he came to establish division, to divide “three against two and two against three”. I’m not sure I know anyone who says Peter is not rock, understanding what he’s saying, maybe you do. Perhaps not everyone is clear what exactly the words mean. Is “this rock” more than Peter? Or, what actually does it mean to “be Peter” as in “you are Peter”? Has SDG addressed this substantially?
Speaking of clues, Pope John Paul II said, “Christ did not refuse to give this beautiful name to his disciple so that he TOO might be Peter, and find in the rock the firmness of perseverance, the steadfast solidity of the faith.” And going way back, Origen wrote, “For rock is every disciple of whom those drank of the spiritual rock which followed them, and upon every such rock is built every word of the church.” Origen noted that while some people believed the Church was built on Simon Peter, he also asked, “What would you say about John the son of thunder or each one of the Apostles? … All bear the surname of ‘rock’ who are the imitators of Christ.” Accordingly, it is said that Jesus made Simon Peter a sharer in his own capacity as foundation, as rock, and the Church shares in that as well, according to Pope Leo XIII in his encyclical on unity, citing Origen, saying it is “as if the rock and the Church were one and the same. I indeed think that this is so, and that neither against the rock upon which Christ builds His Church nor against the Church shall the gates of Hell prevail.” As thus, if the rock and the Church are in unity one and the same, would not “Peter” be the surname shared by everyone in unity with the Church? After all, what good is a surname if you don’t have a family that shares it?
It’s as if he hung a sign around Peter’s neck… “ROCK”, and then said “On this rock I will build my Church.”
And the producer said to Carl, “You are star stuff and on this star stuff I will build a Cosmos and you will be a star.”
And the surfer said to the wave, “You are water and on this water I will ride my surf board.”
And the mine owner said to the jeweler Aaron Gold, “You are Gold and with this gold I will build a jewelry empire.”
Star stuff, water and gold were not intended to be limited to Carl, the wave and Aaron.
He re-named Simon “Rock”.
What’s in a name? He’s a member of the family with surname “Rock”. He plays the role of rock. He is rock.
So who is rock? Jerome said, “I decided to consult the Chair of Peter… for this I know is the rock upon which the Church is built,” and the pope offered the words of St. Ambrose, “Try hard also to be a rock. However, to do this, do not seek the rock outside yourself but within yourself.”
Then what is the point of asking “Was Jesus trying to be vague? Was he on a word budget?” Did you mean to freight the reading of Peter as the rock with some special burden of dominical vagueness, as if other readings with other rocks somehow came with a clearer and less obscure Jesus? I think my case suffices to establish that this would be a neat inversion of the truth.
Are you sure? Your question was “What is the antecedent to ‘this’ in your contention?” Is that a question about what I meant or what I said? How do you tell the difference? Perhaps if you attend sufficiently to what I said there will be no question about what I meant.
That doesn’t impress me as a promising line of exegetical inquiry.
If that is how you perceive it, it might also be that the effort I might make here to clarify my meaning would only add a third possible version of “this” to the first two. Certainly having gone to such lengths as I have in the posts above to be as clear as I have tried to be, I am uninclined to attempt to repeat myself in the combox in order to clear up an ambiguity the nature of which is not yet clear to me, or to guess at what guesses you might be making about what I have tried to say in order to say it differently here. Perhaps if you clarify the ambiguity you perceive, I may be able to address it without further guesswork or multipying options.
No, but it’s a good question that I have wanted to address. Unfortunately, if I wait to post until I have included everything I would like to say and have edited it to the highest level of perfection I can I will never get it posted. I obsess enough over editing and tweaking as it is. Better to put it up when it’s good enough (which I happen to think is pretty darn good, if I say it myself), and then work on making it better as the opportunity arises.
To “be Peter” might mean to be solid as a rock, or it might mean to be chosen as a cornerstone is chosen, or it might mean to be a precious stone, a gem or diamond in the rough. It might even mean all three, as it seems to mean for Jesus to be a precious and chosen cornerstone in 1 Peter. Certainly in Matthew 16:18 it seems to mean to have a foundational role in what Jesus is building. There might be further possibilities also.
I didn’t ask the questions to “pick on Jesus”. (But I did giggle at the absurdity of the suggestion.) Rather, I asked in response to your claim that the “three verses are a remarkable composition, well capable of bearing all the critical scrutiny they have received.” You had remarked on their structure of couplets and how “the structure of verse 18 is notably similar to the texts in Genesis”. One might wonder if the author was deliberate in the structural parallels you claimed, and if so, would he have thus been on a word budget. You also remarked that clarity would have been reduced if Jesus had said […], and that put clarity into the spotlight which relates to your article’s suggestion that people don’t agree on what Jesus said, which one might suppose could have been addressed with a few more words added to the verse or verses. Hence, I asked if Jesus was trying to be vague and/or was he on a word budget. Again, this was to allow you, as author of the article, the opportunity to affirm what you said about it being “a remarkable composition, well capable of bearing all the critical scrutiny,” or perhaps to say that wasn’t the kind of “critical scrutiny” you had in mind.
Did you stop beating your wife?
Yes.
I don’t. That’s why I give the question to you. After all, if you can’t tell the difference, who can?
Or perhaps not.
Such the critic you are! A woman in Sydney said I just throw paint on the canvas and listen.
I think so too!
Excellent job, SDG (although even the word “excellent” is inadequate). And clear.
bill912: Thanks!
Terry: Let’s say that while I do think that Matthew 16:18’s resonance with the Genesis 17 parallels is not accidental, I don’t think this is the impetus of any “word budget” so much as the internal structure of Matthew 16:17-19 itself, with its thrice-repeated Xab pattern. What the Genesis 17 parallels do is not so much impose a word budget as reinforce the connection between the primary declaration “You are Peter” and the expository clauses that follow, providing further confirmation of the referent of “this rock,” if we are willing to see it.
I can easily give a straightforward and unambiguous answer to this question in ten words or less. Likewise, I’m sure you could answer my question, if you wanted to.
You don’t? I thought you did, since you said “I didn’t ask you … so much as ask …” But no matter. If you give the question to me, I’ll be sure to find just the right place to put it.
Tell me about it. Suzanne wishes I could be more like the woman in Sydney. It’s just not my style.
Very kind of you to say so!
I can easily give a straightforward and unambiguous answer to this question in ten words or less. Likewise, I’m sure you could answer my question, if you wanted to.
Short answer: No, nor did I.
Longer answer: If it seems like Terry is doing what you think Terry is doing, that’s the Terry of your dreams starring in that “marvelous and splendid adventure” the pope speaks of, while I sit in the audience.
Suzanne wishes I could be more like the woman in Sydney. It’s just not my style.
Not everyone can be Roger Ebert either. There’s a place for SDG though. A very nice place.
Perhaps we can agree to disagree, or perhaps not.
Ah, that I very much doubt, but if it pleases you to have it so, then let it be as you say.
Perhaps you misunderstood me. I didn’t say I wanted to be the woman in Sydney. But perhaps you didn’t misunderstand after all.
Ah, once again, tell me about it. 🙂
Now I am confused are you two fighting or making up? You are like my parents in that regard.
Welcome to the game.
Just as long as you sell popcorn 🙂
The Chicken
To quote SDG’s review, “It’s not like any one you’ve ever played. In fact, it doesn’t even have a name. Those who have played it simply call it ‘The Game.’ And it’s rather hard to describe. It doesn’t seem to have any clearly defined set of rules. Even the object of The Game is unclear. […] The Game is not to ask what it’s about. Figuring that out is the object of The Game. […] For what it’s worth, there actually are things like The Game in real life (or there were a few years ago, anyway).”
SDG and Ebert had rather seemingly different views of the Game, but SDG has perhaps (or perhaps not) mellowed some since then. Previously, SDG said, “both The Game and The Game are simply offensive,” and “It never really does anything to make [the character] a likable guy,” but of late he’s said, “It’s okay to play if you want to, but don’t lose sight of the fact that it’s a game.”
Quote from the movie: “[leans in] You wanna know what it is? What it’s all about? John 9:25 [Nicholas leans closer…] ‘Whereas once I was blind, now I can see.'”
“Game”, from the O.E. gamen “joy, fun, amusement,” common Gmc. (cf. O.Fris. game, O.N. gaman, O.H.G. gaman “joy, glee”), regarded as identical with Goth. gaman “participation, communion,” from P.Gmc. *ga- collective prefix + *mann “person,” giving a sense of “people together.”
Technical foul on Terry for egregious material quotation misattribution.
I think my popcorn remark, above, was in poor taste. Sorry.
The Chicken
‘To quote Decent Films (“the online home of the film writing of Steven D. Greydanus”) review by Robert Jackson (“© 2000 – 2009 Steven D. Greydanus. All rights reserved.”): …’
I would not want to deny “Robert Jackson” his due credit.
The foul stands. The review in question was written when I had not even seen the film, at a time when Decent Films occasionally ran reviews by guest critics, and its POV cannot be attributed to me.
Let’s call the tangent here, please; we’ve done a good job of staying on topic so far.
SDG notes more than once that the Greek word choice (petros and petra) in Matthew’s gospel is inspired. But, supposing Matthew’s gospel to be originally written in Aramaic, not Greek, would the Greek text actually be inspired? If only the Aramaic original was inspired, and was then lost, that would seem troubling, because it means the Greek text we have for Mark is no more inspired than an English translation. On the other hand, if the Greek is inspired, then there are two possibilities:
1. Matthew wrote an inspired text in Aramaic, and someone made an inspired Greek translation (presumably because God knew the Aramaic original would be lost).
2. The Aramaic original was not inspired, but the Greek translation was. In this case, God wanted the gospel to be in Greek, made use of a pre-existing document to make it, and subsequently allowed that document to be lost because in itself it was of little importance.
A similar question applies to several Old Testament books which were written in Hebrew and survive only in Greek.
The general questions this raises are: Would God inspire a book with the purpose of including it in Scripture, and then allow it to be lost with only an accurate but uninspired translation remaining? Would God inspire a document for a short-term purpose and then allow it to be lost?
Does anyone have any thoughts on any of this? SDG, if you don’t want to address the general questions here in the interests of topicality, that’s fine, but in that case, could you or Jimmy possibly do a post on them some time?
Dear Pachyderminator,
Here you go. The answer is at the bottom – the decision of the Biblical Commmision. Hope this is what you are looking for.
The Chicken
Thanks, Chicken. I have some more thoughts, but I have to continue to defer them for now. I will try to post soon.
Matthew quotes Isaiah.
Behold a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring
forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel . Matthew. 1:23
Isaiah had written this 700 years earlier. In doing so, Matthew brings into his text the Hebrew word “Emmanuel.” Matthew makes three points here, first that prophesy is fulfilled and secondly that the readers would not know Hebrew. Thirdly this further shows us that Matthew was not writing in Hebrew. Many scholars reject the Matthew originally in Aramaic hypothesis.
“Thirdly, this further shows us that Matthew was not writing in Hebrew.”
Or that Matthew, or whoever translated his gospel into Greek, was explaining to Greek speakers what the name, “Emmanuel”, means.
“Many scholars reject the Matthew originally in Aramaic hypothesis.”
“Many scholars” reject lots of things.
Mr. Chicken,
Thanks for the link. It doesn’t completely answer the question, but it seems to indicate that the Greek and Aramaic texts must both be regarded as inspired, since if the Aramaic was uninspired, the canonicity of the Greek would not prove its faithfulness to the Aramaic.
PachyD,
A few more thoughts.
First, it may be worth noting that there is at least one book of scripture that has historically been known only in translation (i.e., the Greek Septuagint) but which was originally written in Hebrew: Sirach.
In the 20th century partial Hebrew texts — initially late medieval texts, but more recently early texts from the Dead Sea Scrolls — were discovered, supporting the essential accuracy of the Greek text to the Hebrew original. Still, we still have the complete text of Sirah only in Greek translation.
Since inspiration means divine authorship, and translation is not usually considered equivalent to true authorship, it seems necessary to say that the Aramaic text of Sirach was inspired. Since the Greek text of Sirach is the only complete text we have, the Greek translation at least presents us with the Word of God in the purest form we have access to. Or rather, the Greek translation as we have it attested in various manuscripts; as with any book of scripture, we have a number of manuscripts to work from, not a single original translation.
Is the Greek translation inspired? There are reasons to say so. The Greek text includes a prologue written by the translator, the author’s grandson, which is treated as part of the canon. The Tridentine formula that the books of scripture “with all their parts” (as attested in the Vulgate) are to be esteemed as canonical and scriptural would support including the translator’s original prologue as inspired scripture. If the prologue was inspired, it seems reasonable to regard the translation as a work of inspiration as well.
There is, however, reason to regard the Septuagint itself as a case of a translation that is divinely inspired, not only in its essential harmony with the Hebrew original, but even in its divergences. The New Testament authors quote the Septuagint as sacred scripture, even in passages where it diverges materially on the very issue at hand from the Hebrew tradition we have today.
For example, the version of Isaiah 40:3 applied in the Gospels to John the Baptist — “A voice in the wilderness crying out: Prepare the way of the Lord” — diverges materially from all evidence we have of the Hebrew original, which reads, “A voice cries out: In the deserve prepare the way of the Lord.” The Hebrew is about a way in the desert; the Greek translation, quoted in the NT, is about a voice in the desert, i.e., John the Baptist. Nothing in the Hebrew indicates that the voice itself is in the desert; but that is clearly the connection that the Evangelists saw.
We may thus infer, on the authority of the Evangelists and the inspired Gospels, that the Holy Spirit foretold John the Baptist, the prophet in the wilderness, precisely in the translational act of changing the meaning of the Hebrew original to the Greek text of the Septuagint. There is thus a case for regarding both the Hebrew original and the Greek translation as inspired, not only in their essential unity but even in their differences.
It is worth remembering that even when we examine original language manuscripts of any biblical work, there is no biblical work for which we have the autograph (original manuscript penned by the author). The manuscript tradition for the Bible is overwhelmingly one of harmony and confirming traditions, but no two manuscripts are exactly alike, no one manuscript likely matches the autograph letter for letter, and we thus do not know with 100 percent assurance the exact word-for-word text of any biblical book in the original language. We can reconstruct all the biblical works with a high degree of accuracy, but the inspired word of God exists for us in a textual tradition that is always a very close approximation, never the exact letter-for-letter text.
This means that unlike, say, the Muslims (whose access to the original text of the Koran is in fact very much more compromised, though they falsely insist that it is letter-for-letter perfect), our faith does not stand or fall with an exact textual reading. This doesn’t mean that we can’t make compelling arguments based on the choice of one word rather than another, but exegetically speaking such arguments are always subject to probability, not a matter of absolute proof.
The ultimate guarantor of the correct interpretation of the word of God is not the textual critic’s ability to reconstruct the exact original text, but the fullness of the word of God in sacred scripture and sacred tradition appropriated through the Church’s charism of truth, above all in the Magisterium as well as in the sensus fidelium.
Whether Matthew’s Gospel was originally written in Aramaic is, I think, very much an open question. It is possible but by no means certain.
As Catholics, we believe that the word of God is not confined to the canonical books of sacred scripture. The word of God is also found in the oral teachings of Jesus, in the oral teachings of the apostles, in the written teachings of the apostles outside the NT books. The word of God subsists in the traditions passed down from the apostles, both orally and when that tradition was committed to non-inspired writing.
If Q or other sources existed, if Matthew wrote a pre-Gospel collection of Jesus’ sayings, if the apostles and other early disciples kept notes of Jesus’ teachings and of the apostles’ recounting of Jesus’ ministry prior to the writing of the Gospels (which is quite plausible), the word of God would be found in all of these. They would not necessarily be divinely inspired (authored by God), but it is possible that they would be.
We can certainly say that the best critical edition of Matthew we can compile presents us with the Word of God in the Gospel of Matthew in the purest form that we can attain. God is certainly the author of the Gospel of Matthew which we have attested in Greek manuscript tradition. Based on the example of the Septuagint, it seems reasonable to regard the Greek text of Matthew itself to be inspired, even if and where it might in any particular differ from a hypothetical Aaramaic original.
(Whew! See why I didn’t knock that out in five minutes?)