Was Matthew Written AFTER A.D. 70?

Many scholars hold that the Gospel of Matthew was written after the traumatic events of A.D. 70, when the Jewish War came to its climax and the Jerusalem temple was destroyed.

In a previous post, we argued that Matthew was written sometime between A.D. 55 and 100, but what are we to make of the arguments that it was composed after 70?

Let’s look at the evidence . . .

 

Presupposing the Destruction of the Temple?

Some have argued that Matthew was written after 70 because it depicts Jesus predicting the destruction of the temple (Matt. 24:1-2).

However, this is not a good argument, for it presupposes that Jesus could not have predicted such an event.

Indeed, one doesn’t even have to suppose that Jesus was a genuine prophet, just that he was a shrewd observer of “the signs of the times” (Matt. 16:3) and could deduce the likely outcome of Jewish anti-Roman passions and the war that they would produce.

The temple had already been destroyed once, and the fear it might happen again was real.

Jesus wasn’t even the only person to predict its destruction in advance. (More here.)

The weakness of the argument in this form is acknowledged by many scholars, and so a refinement has been proposed that argues Matthew’s Gospel contains passages which presuppose that the event has already happened. Raymond Brown, SJ, writes:

For instance, the omission in Matt. 21:13 of the description of the Jerusalem Temple as serving “for all the nations” (Mark 11:17) and the reference in Matt. 22:7 to the king burning the city may reflect the destruction at Jerusalem by the Roman armies in A.D. 70.

These arguments are both quite weak. Note that Brown only says the passages “may reflect” the events of 70.

 

“For All the Nations”

The first passage reads:

He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer’; but you make it a den of robbers” (Matt. 21:13).

It’s true that Mark adds “for all the nations” after “a house of prayer,” but one can’t argue that Matthew deleted this out of animus for Gentiles after the Romans destroyed the temple.

As we’ve seen, Matthew is far from being hostile to Gentiles, and the theme of their evangelization and salvation is a prominent one in his Gospel.

If we want an explanation for why he would delete this phrase, we need look no further than the fact Matthew incorporates 90% of the material in Mark and thus needs to shorten it so that he can fit in all of the additional material he wants to include in his Gospel.

Matthew thus regularly drops words and phrases from what he takes from Mark.

 

“And Burned Their City”

The second passage Brown cites occurs at the end of the parable of the wedding banquet, where we read this about the king who is snubbed:

The king was angry, and he sent his troops and destroyed those murderers and burned their city (Matt. 22:7).

This also proves nothing. As D. A. Carson and Douglas Moo observe:

The language of Matthew 22:7, including the reference to the burning of the city, is the standard language of both the Old Testament and the Roman world describing punitive military expeditions against rebellious cities. Granted that Jesus foresaw the destruction of Jerusalem (as did many prophets before him), the language he used does not in any detail depend on specific knowledge as to how things actually turned out in A.D. 70. In fact, [John A.T.] Robinson goes so far as to argue that the synoptic prophecies about the fall of Jerusalem, including Matthew 22:7, are so restrained that they must have been written before 70 (An Introduction to the New Testament, 2nd ed., 153).

The last argument is that the prophecies about the destruction of Jerusalem are so general and in keeping with ordinary Roman practice that they don’t betray a knowledge of the details of what happened in 70, and so they were written before that event. Robinson was a liberal English scholar, and liberal German scholar Adolf von Harnack concurred, stating:

Chap. 22:7 and many other passages are rather in favor of composition before the catastrophe (The Date of the Acts and the Synoptic Gospels, 134, n. 2).

Fundamentally, if Jesus could foresee—supernaturally or otherwise—the conquest of Jerusalem and the destruction of its temple, he could similarly foresee the burning of the city.

 

The Church

Matthew’s Gospel is unique in that it refers to his “church.” In Matthew 16:18, he says “I will build my church,” and in 18:17 he says “tell it to the church.”

It is argued that this reflects a developed understanding of the Church, but this hardly requires a date after A.D. 70.

St. Paul uses the Greek word for church—ekklesia—61 times in his epistles, all of which were written before A.D. 70.

St. Luke uses it a further 23 times in Acts, which was also written before A.D. 70 (specifically, in A.D. 60, as we discussed before).

The word “church” for the community of Jesus’ followers thus was well established long before the events of 70.

 

Separation from the Synagogue?

Sometimes it is argued that Matthew displays knowledge of the final separation of church and synagogue in passages like these:

Beware of men; for they will deliver you up to councils, and flog you in their synagogues (Matt. 10:17).

Therefore, I send you prophets and wise men and scribes, some of whom you will kill and crucify, and some you will scourge in your synagogues and persecute from town to town (Matt. 23:34).

The final separation of church and synagogue is then argued to have taken place around A.D. 85, when the Birkath ha-Minim (Hebrew, “blessing concerning the heretics”) is said to have been introduced into Jewish prayer and thus prevented Jewish Christians from participation in Jewish worship, since it was directed against them.

However, there are multiple problems with this argument.

First, the history and interpretation of the Birkath ha-Minim is highly debatable, making it too uncertain to use as a marker for dating.

Second, the alleged introduction of it around 85—if that even is when it was introduced—is a dividing line of convenience. The separation of church and synagogue was a lengthy process that cannot be assigned to a single date.

Third, the verses in question do not speak of Jewish Christians being excluded from the synagogue by the introduction of a prayer. They speak of them being beaten in synagogues.

Fourth, the verses actually speak of a time before the separation was complete. They envision a time when Jewish Christians were still attending the synagogue and thus could be subject to beatings there.

Fifth, the persecution of Christians attending synagogues, including beatings, is precisely what we see in the book of Acts (9:2, 20-23, 13:43-50, 14:1-6, 17:1-5, 10-13, 18:17, 22:19, 26:11), and the events it records took place between A.D. 33 and 60.

Sixth, this objection presupposes that Jesus could not have—supernaturally or otherwise—foreseen the consequences of the spread of the Christian message for his followers (despite the fact he foresaw his own death and undertook actions he knew would provoke the Jewish authorities).

 

“To This Day”

Matthew 27:8 refers to the fact that the field where Judas died has been called the field of blood “to this day,” and Matthew 28:15 reports that the idea the disciples stole Jesus’ body has been circulating among non-Christian Jews “to this day.”

Concerning such passages, Raymond Brown argues:

Two passages (27:8; 28:15) describe items in the Matthean passion narrative that are remembered “to this day,” using an OT phrase to explain place names from long ago (Gen. 26:33; 2 Sam. 6:8). Such a description would be very inappropriate if Matt was written only two or three decades after A.D. 30/33 (An Introduction to the New Testament, 216).

This is very weak. The phrase “to this day” may be used in the Old Testament to refer to things that started in the distant past, but this is far from a required condition.

Despite Brown’s reference to “two or three decades,” in context he is using this as an argument against Matthew having a pre-A.D. 70 date. The difference between A.D. 30 and 70 is four decades, and Brown himself places Matthew’s composition in “80-90, give or take a decade” (p. 172).

So . . . “two or three decades” would be a “very inappropriate” period to warrant the use of the phrase “to this day” but four or five would make it appropriate?

That’s hardly plausible. All that the phrase indicates is that some period of time which the author deems significant has passed, and a distance of 30 years—quite long in the lifetime of an ancient person—would be quite sufficient.

 

Conclusion

We haven’t found any good arguments for Matthew being written after A.D. 70.

Are there good arguments for it being written before 70?

That’s what we’ll turn to next . . .

When Was Matthew Written? (A First Pass)

The date of the Gospel of Matthew is commonly estimated by scholars to be in the late first century.

Raymond Brown, SJ, who places it “80-90, give or take a decade” (An Introduction to the New Testament, 172), states:

The majority view dates Matt to the period 70–100; but some significant conservative scholars argue for a pre-70 dating (p. 216).

Let’s look at what the evidence suggests . . .

 

Latest Possible Date

Scholars refer to the latest possible date that a document could have been written as its terminus ante quem (Latin, “limit before which”), and today scholars are agreed that Matthew was written before the beginning of the new century.

We will not review the evidence for this in detail, but it is generally held that St. Ignatius of Antioch, who wrote around A.D. 108, displays awareness of Matthew’s Gospel.

For example, he says that Jesus was “baptized by John in order that all righteousness might be fulfilled by him” (Ig.Smyr. 1:1). This specific motive for Jesus’ baptism is found in Matthew 3:15 and nowhere else in the New Testament.

Similarly, Ignatius warns against false brethren who “are not the Father’s planting” (Ig.Phil. 3:1). This appears to echo Matthew 15:13, where Jesus warns against “Every plant which my heavenly Father has not planted”—a statement found only in his Gospel.

It is, of course, unlikely that Matthew would have been written and then immediately be referred to by Ignatius, making it likely that the Gospel would have been at least several years earlier, putting its composition sometime in the first century. (For additional factors pointing in this direction, see Brown, 216).

 

Earliest Possible Date

Scholars refer to the earliest possible date that a document could have been written as its terminus post quem (“limit after which”).

Since Matthew describes the death and resurrection of Jesus, this would put its composition after the events of A.D. 30 or 33, but we can show it was later than that.

 

Gentile Interest

Matthew is famous for being the most Jewish of the canonical Gospels, and it appears to have been written for an audience of Jewish Christians.

However, it displays a keen awareness of the mission to the Gentiles and the role they have in God’s plan. This awareness becomes apparent in its opening verses, when Matthew breaks the normal practice of biblical genealogies and includes Gentile women in Jesus’ genealogy (Matt. 1:3, 5, and possibly 6).

Interest in Gentiles is continued in the next chapter, when Matthew records the visit of the magi to honor the newborn king (Matt. 2:1-12).

We will not recount every passage in which Matthew displays interest in Gentiles and their role in God’s plan, but a number of passages are striking, as when Jesus declares:

Not even in Israel have I found such faith. I tell you, many will come from east and west and sit at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, while the sons of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness (Matt. 8:10-12).

I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a nation producing the fruits of it (Matt. 21:43).

And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached throughout the whole world, as a testimony to all nations (Matt. 24:14).

The theme of Gentile mission comes to a climax at the very end of the Gospel, in the Great Commission, where Jesus declares:

Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit (Matt. 28:19).

The full significance of the last passage is often lost in translation, because English speakers are generally unaware that the word used for nations—ethnê—is the same word translated “Gentiles” in other contexts.

It is difficult not to conclude that—from the beginning of his Gospel to its end—Matthew is carefully building a case for his Jewish audience that it is appropriate to evangelize Gentiles and include them in the Christian community.

This case needed to be laid because this issue was controversial in first century Jewish Christian circles, and many held that Gentiles needed to be circumcised and become Jews to be saved as Christians (see Acts 10-11, 15, Galatians 1-2).

The controversy started when the Gospel began to be preached to Gentiles at Antioch (Acts 11:19-21), and it accelerated following the Gentile conversions that occurred during Paul’s First Missionary Journey (Acts 13-14), leading to the council in Acts 15.

Despite the council, the controversy continued for some years, as Paul continues to address it in Galatians, Romans, and Ephesians.

The council of Jerusalem took place in A.D. 49, so it would not have been appropriate for Matthew to quote from it in a biography of Jesus, but it appears that he did reach back into Jesus’ life and ministry for the facts needed to address the controversy.

That Matthew would feel the need to address the controversy—and to have so carefully built his case and made it so integral to the structure of his Gospel—suggests that he was writing after A.D. 49.

 

After Mark

For many centuries, it was commonly held that Matthew was the first Gospel to be written and that Mark then abbreviated it. This proposal, which was entertained by St. Augustine, is thus known as the Augustinian Hypothesis.

However, this view has fallen out of favor in recent centuries.

Although I’ve been sympathetic to the idea that Matthew wrote first, a detailed study of the evidence convinced me that the reverse was true, and that Matthew not only wrote after Mark, he used Mark as one of his principal sources.

This would place the composition of Matthew’s Gospel after that of Mark’s—and we can reasonably date that to the A.D. 50s. Two lines of evidence support this:

  • Luke also used Mark as one of his sources, and Luke appears to have been written around A.D. 59, just before he composed the book of Acts, whose narrative cuts off suddenly in A.D. 60, when Paul is awaiting his first trial in Rome.
  • Various factors indicate that Mark based his Gospel on the reminiscences of Peter, whose traveling companion he had become. However, Mark did not become Peter’s companion until after his partnership with Paul was severed following the Jerusalem Council of A.D. 49 (see Acts 15:36-39). Therefore, Mark became Peter’s companion sometime in the 50s.

For Mark to have time to write his Gospel, and for it to have come into Luke’s possession, it is thus likely that Mark wrote sometime in the mid-50s, say A.D. 55.

We can thus infer that Matthew wrote sometime between about 55 and 100.

But we can narrow this down further, as we will see next time.

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When Was the Gospel of Mark Written?

The Gospel of Mark is widely regarded by scholars today as the first of the Gospels to be penned. But when, specifically, did that happen?

Let’s take a look at the evidence . . .

 

Was Mark First?

For many centuries, it was commonly held that Matthew was the first of the Gospels to be written, and that Mark then abridged Matthew to make it shorter. This view is known as the Augustinian Hypothesis, since St. Augustine proposed it.

As the author of a book on the Church Fathers, I take the views expressed in early centuries seriously.

However, after a careful study of the issue, I was forced to conclude that the Augustinian Hypothesis is incorrect, that Mark wrote first and then Matthew expanded it.

I explain the reasons for this here.

 

Mark’s Relationship to Luke

It is widely recognized that Luke—like Matthew—used Mark as one of his sources.

Luke even refers to prior written sources in his prologue, telling his patron Theophilus that “many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things which have been accomplished among us” (Luke 1:1).

The fact that Mark was one of those narratives is confirmed by the fact that Luke uses about 55% of the material in Mark (B. H. Streeter, The Four Gospels, 160).

This means that we can place the composition of Mark sometime before that of Luke.

In our previous post we saw that there are good reasons to hold that Luke was written around A.D. 59, which would then be the latest possible date for Mark.

However, it is probable that it was written some time before that.

How much before?

 

Mark’s Life Story

We first meet Mark in Acts 12:12, when Peter visits the house of his mother in Jerusalem.

In Acts 12:25, Barnabas and Paul take Mark with them when they return from Jerusalem to their home base in Antioch.

In the next chapter, the Holy Spirit calls Barnabas and Paul to embark on the First Missionary Journey (Acts 13:2), and they take Mark with them.

However, we later learn (Acts 15:38) that Mark had turned back early in the journey, when they reached Pamphylia on the southern coast of modern Turkey.

Thus when Paul and Barnabas were preparing to set out on the Second Missionary Journey, a dispute arose between them:

Barnabas wanted to take with them John called Mark. But Paul thought best not to take with them one who had withdrawn from them in Pamphylia, and had not gone with them to the work. And there arose a sharp contention, so that they separated from each other; Barnabas took Mark with him and sailed away to Cyprus (Acts 15:37-39).

A factor in this dispute was likely that Mark was Barnabas’s cousin (Col. 4:10).

Paul and Barnabas thus dissolved their longstanding partnership over the dispute concerning Mark, and Barnabas took him on an otherwise unrecorded journey to Barnabas’s native island of Cyprus (Acts 4:36).

We know from the New Testament that Mark later formed a close bond with Peter, who refers to him as his spiritual son and who was with him during his ministry in Rome (1 Pet. 5:13).

We also learn that Paul eventually reconciled with Mark (2 Tim. 4:11).

 

Putting Dates to Events

The part of Mark’s life story that is important for our purposes is the period he spent with Peter.

We do not know when this began, but the journey that Mark took with Barnabas would have occurred in A.D. 49, and it would have taken some time. Mark thus likely became a companion of Peter in the 50s.

This is significant because the first century source John the Presbyter reveals that Mark based his Gospel on Peter’s reminiscences. The Presbyter is reported to have said:

Mark, having become the interpreter of Peter, wrote down accurately, though not in order, whatsoever he remembered of the things said or done by Christ. For he neither heard the Lord nor followed him, but afterward, as I said, he followed Peter, who adapted his teaching to the needs of his hearers, but with no intention of giving a connected account of the Lord’s discourses, so that Mark committed no error while he thus wrote some things as he remembered them. For he was careful of one thing, not to omit any of the things which he had heard, and not to state any of them falsely (Eusebius, Church History 3:39:15).

If we know that Mark didn’t become Peter’s traveling companion until the 50s, and if he had to have written before Luke was published in 59, then this means Mark must have written his Gospel sometime in that decade.

Although Mark likely heard Peter preach in Jerusalem, John the Presbyter ties the composition of his Gospel to the period when he was serving as Peter’s assistant. We should thus understand it to be based on not Mark’s memories of Peter’s preaching from years earlier, but on what he heard during their period of mutual ministry.

We should thus allow some time (1) for Mark to absorb (or re-absorb) Peter’s preaching and (2) some time for Mark’s Gospel to come into Luke’s hands and be absorbed by him.

We can therefore estimate that Mark’s Gospel was written sometime in the mid 50s, say around A.D. 55.

It might even be slightly earlier than this if Mark is the mysterious “brother whose praise is in the gospel” that Paul refers to in 2 Corinthians 8:18, since 2 Corinthians was written around A.D. 54-55.

In any event, we have good reason to place the dating of Luke in 59 and Mark a few years earlier than that, in the 50s.

What about Matthew? That’s the subject we will turn to next.

When Was the Gospel of Luke Written?

When were the four Gospels written?

Ultimately, from a faith perspective, the precise dates do not matter. What matters is that they are divinely inspired and thus authoritative for faith.

However, by showing that the Gospels were written in the first century, within a few decades of Jesus’ life, we strengthen their credibility even from a secular perspective.

Today virtually all scholars—whether skeptical or believing—acknowledge that the Gospels are first century documents.

The real question is how early in the first century they were written.

That’s what we’ll examine in this series.

 

The Importance of Acts

More than a century ago, the liberal German scholar Adolf von Harnack published a work titled The Date of the Acts and the Synoptic Gospels in which he considered this question.

As the title suggests, he considered the date of Acts first, the reason being that it’s easier to establish this date and then determine the dates of the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) with respect to it.

Acts is important because it’s the sequel to the Gospel of Luke (Acts 1:1-2), so the date of Acts determines the latest possible date for Luke.

So . . . when was Acts written?

 

Its Sudden Ending

The first twelve chapters of Acts are concerned principally with St. Peter, and from chapter 13 onward, St. Paul becomes the focus of the narrative.

Beginning in chapter 21, Paul makes a fateful trip to Jerusalem, being prophetically warned along the way that if he goes there, he will be arrested. This indeed happens, and the rest of the book is taken up with the consequences of this event.

Paul spends years in custody, and in chapter 25 a turning point occurs when the new Roman governor, Porcius Festus, arrives. To avoid having the outcome of his trial affected by the hostile Jewish authorities, Paul invokes his Roman citizenship and the right to have his case tried before Caesar (the Caesar in question being Nero at this time). Festus then replies:

You have appealed to Caesar; to Caesar you shall go (Acts 25:12).

The rest of the book is taken up with the events leading up to Paul’s voyage to Rome and what happened on that trip. Acts ends in chapter 28 with Paul under house arrest in Rome, awaiting his trial. Luke simply says:

And he lived there two whole years at his own expense, and welcomed all who came to him, preaching the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ quite openly and unhindered (Acts 28:30-31).

That’s it! We get no resolution on what happened when Paul appeared before Nero.

 

The Significance of the Ending

Many scholars have pointed out that the book’s abrupt ending is highly significant for when it was written.

It makes no sense, if Luke knew the outcome of the trial, for him to cut off the narrative at this point. He has been building toward this climactic event for eight chapters, and yet he doesn’t tell us what happened!

This is all the more striking, because whatever happened to Paul would have suited Luke’s purposes:

  • If Paul was acquitted at this trial then Luke could portray Paul and the gospel as gloriously vindicated.
  • If Paul was imprisoned or martyred then Luke could portray Paul as gloriously and heroically suffering for the gospel, as he has done so often in the book.

We learn from later sources that the first is actually what happened, that Paul was released and conducted a further period of ministry, only to be re-arrested and martyred after Nero found it convenient to blame Christians for the Great Fire of Rome in A.D. 64.

Yet Luke gives us neither of these endings. The only reasonable conclusion is that he didn’t do this because he couldn’t: The trial had not yet happened.

Adolf von Harnack comments:

Throughout eight whole chapters St. Luke keeps his readers intensely interested in the progress of the trial of St. Paul, simply that he may in the end completely disappoint them—they learn nothing of the final result of the trial! . . .

The more clearly we see that the trial of St. Paul, and above all his appeal to Caesar, is the chief subject of the last quarter of the Acts, the more hopeless does it appear that we can explain why the narrative breaks off as it does, otherwise than by assuming that the trial had actually not yet reached its close. It is no use to struggle against this conclusion. If St. Luke, in the year 80, 90, or 100, wrote thus he was not simply a blundering but an absolutely incomprehensible historian! (pp. 95, 97).

Harnack also points out that Luke repeatedly records prophecies of future events in Acts, yet he makes no mention of Paul’s ultimate fate:

St. Luke allows Agabus to foretell a famine, to foretell St. Paul’s imprisonment in Jerusalem; he suffers St. Paul himself (on the voyage) to foretell, like a fortune-teller, the fate of the ship and all its passengers; he in many chapters of the book deals in all kinds of “spiritual” utterances and prophecies—but not one word is said concerning the final destiny of St. Paul (and of St. Peter)! Is this natural? There are prophecies concerning events of minor importance, while there is nothing about the greatest event of all! (pp. 97-98, emphasis in original).

This further reinforces the conclusion that Acts was written before the events to which it has been building were concluded.

 

The Date of Acts

So in what year was Acts written? When does its narrative break off?

This is disputed by scholars. The problem is that we do not know precisely when the governor Festus arrived in Judaea.

This is the key event for determining when Paul’s voyage to Rome began and thus when his two-year period of house arrest began.

Many estimate that Festus arrived in A.D. 59, and so Paul arrived in Rome early in 60, and his house arrest lasted from 60 to 62.

However, I have done a (currently unpublished) study of the issue, and I agree with scholars such as Jack Finegan and Andrew Steinmann that Festus arrived in 57. That would mean that Paul arrived in Rome in early 58, and his house arrest lasted from 58 to 60.

I thus conclude that Acts was written in 60.

 

The Date of Luke

The Gospel of Luke was written before Acts, but how much before? A careful study of the end of the Gospel suggests it was not long.

This can be seen by comparing its end with the end of one of Luke’s sources—the Gospel of Mark. The original ending of Mark may have been lost, but it concludes in a way that indicates what would have happened. An angel tells the women who have come to Jesus’ tomb:

But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him, as he told you (Mark 16:7; cf. 14:28).

Mark thus envisions a post-Resurrection appearance of Jesus to the disciples in Galilee. This is also what happens in Matthew (see Matt. 28:7, 10, 16-20).

However, Luke omits this reference and focuses instead on post-Resurrection appearances that occurred in Jerusalem and its vicinity (Luke 24:13-53). He makes no mention of the disciples going to Galilee. Instead, Luke records Jesus telling the disciples:

Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be preached in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. And behold, I send the promise of my Father upon you; but stay in the city, until you are clothed with power from on high (Luke 24:46-49).

Notice: Repentance is to be preached to all nations “beginning from Jerusalem” and the disciples are to “stay in the city, until you are clothed with power from on high.”

Although this difference has led some to see Luke as contradicting Mark and Matthew, in reality there is no conflict. The truth is that Jesus appeared to the disciples both in the vicinity of Jerusalem (John 20:19-31) and in Galilee (John 21:1-23). Luke simply focuses on the first location, while Mark and Matthew focus on the latter.

For our purposes, the question is: Why did Luke choose to end his Gospel as he did?

The obvious answer is that he was already planning what he was going to write in Acts. Thus at the beginning of the latter, he records Jesus telling the disciples:

But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria and to the end of the earth (Acts 1:8).

This directly echoes the end of Luke’s Gospel:

  • “You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you” refers to the events of Pentecost and corresponds to “stay in the city, until you are clothed with power from on high” (Luke 24:49).
  • “You shall be my witnesses in Jerusalem and all Judea and Samaria and to the end of the earth” is the outline of the book of Acts and corresponds to “repentance and forgiveness of sins should be preached in [Christ’s] name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things” (Luke 24:47-48).

Other elements of the end of the Gospel are also recapitulated in Acts, including the Ascension (Luke 24:51// Acts 1:9-11), the disciples return to Jerusalem (Luke 24:52//Acts 1:12), and their regular worship in the temple (Luke 24:53//Acts 2:46, etc.).

The presence of these elements at the end of Luke, and particularly the way he diverges from Mark, indicates that he was already planning what he would write in Acts.

This indicates that no long period of time can have passed between the composition of Luke’s Gospel and its sequel. If years had elapsed then we wouldn’t find the Gospel ending the way it does.

I therefore estimate that Luke was finished immediately before Acts, likely in A.D. 59, and that Luke used the two-year period of Paul’s house arrest in Rome to finish gathering material for and to compose his two masterworks.

In fact, much of the material found in the first twelve chapters of Acts—which focus on Peter—as well as some of the material unique to Luke’s Gospel, likely came from interviews that Luke conducted with Peter in Rome during this period.

We thus find there are good reasons for thinking that Luke and Acts were both composed in Rome, around A.D. 59 and 60, respectively.

What can we say about the other Gospels? That’s what we will turn to next.

Jesus’ Mysterious Prophecy About the Temple

The destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans in 70AD —
a painting by David Roberts (1796-1849).

Skeptical scholar Bart Ehrman argues that the Gospels were written between A.D. 60 and 115.

I’d put the beginning of that range a little earlier and say they were written between 50 and 115, so he and I are in general agreement on the broad time frame in which they were composed.

Where we disagree is on the part of the range in which they were written.

I think they were written toward the first part of the range, between 50 and 70.

However, like many scholars, Ehrman thinks Mark was written around 70, Matthew and Luke around 80-85, and John around 90-95.

Why does he think that?

 

The Destruction of the Temple

A key event used—one way or another—by virtually all scholars when dating the Gospels is the conquest of Jerusalem and the destruction of its temple in A.D. 70.

The reason is that the Synoptic Gospels—Matthew, Mark, and Luke—all report that Jesus repeatedly predicted this event.

Many scholars, including Ehrman, think that this suggests they were written after the event. He writes:

It is frequently noted that the earliest Gospels seem to presuppose the destruction of the city of Jerusalem and of the Jewish temple, as happened in 70 CE.

And so, for example, in Mark’s Gospel Jesus indicates that the nation of Israel will be destroyed (12:9) and that the temple will not be left standing (13:1-2).

Matthew is even more explicit: here Jesus tells a parable in which God is portrayed as burning the city and killing its inhabitants (22:8).

Luke has similar passages (e.g., 21:24).

All these passages seem to presuppose that by the time the books were written, the destruction had happened.

Is Ehrman right about this?

 

An Objection

Ehrman considers an important objection:

Someone may respond by saying that in these passages Jesus is predicting the destruction of the [sic] Jerusalem, not looking back on it. Fair enough!

Good for Ehrman! He deserves props for acknowledging that not every prediction is made after the fact.

Jerusalem had been invaded an conquered multiple times, and its temple had already been destroyed once (by the Babylonians).

The fear of the nation’s holiest site being destroyed again—this time to the hated Romans—was real. Others worried about it (cf. John 11:48-50), and Jesus wasn’t the only person to predict that it would happen.

In fact, he wasn’t even the only person named Jesus to predict it would happen. The Jewish historian Josephus records that in A.D. 62 a man named Jesus son of Ananus began to prophesy exactly the same thing (Jewish War 6:5:3).

So the mere fact the Gospels record the prediction doesn’t mean they were written after the event.

To show that, you’d need more.

 

Ehrman’s Response

So how does Ehrman argue his case? He writes:

But when is a Christian author likely to record a prediction of Jesus in order to show that he predicted something accurately?

Obviously, in order to show that Jesus knew what he was talking about, an author would want to write about these predictions only after they had been fulfilled.

Otherwise the reader would be left hanging, not knowing if Jesus was a true prophet or not.

So even if we assume that Jesus did predict such things, the fact that they are written so confidently by later authors suggests that they did so after the events – that is, after the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple in 70 CE.

Ehrman’s argument is seriously flawed.

It is not true that “an author would want to write about these predictions only after they had been fulfilled.”

The authors of the Gospels were all Christians, and they believed Jesus was a true prophet.

The audiences for whom the Gospels were written were also composed of Christians who believed Jesus was a true prophet.

They therefore would want to know what this prophet foretold, and the authors would want to tell them.

 

Important Prophecies

Space limitations constrained the size of ancient books, so an author might not be able to record everything he knew a prophet said, but he would want to at least report the prophet’s most important predictions—even if they had not yet been fulfilled.

Thus the Evangelists—and other New Testament authors—also report that Jesus is going to come again in the future.

But we’d never accept the argument that the New Testament authors would want to report predictions of the Second Coming “only after they had been fulfilled”!

Like the Second Coming, the conquest of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple were important prophecies—important enough that they are mentioned explicitly and repeatedly in three of the Gospels (and reflected in the fourth).

They are precisely the kind of thing that the Evangelists would want to record to let Christians know what Jesus had said would be happening in the future.

 

A Pre-70 Evangelist’s Perspective

Suppose that you were a Christian writing a Gospel before the destruction of Jerusalem, for an audience that still has many, many Jewish Christians in it.

And suppose you know that Jesus prophesied the temple would be destroyed “in this generation.”

Do you say to yourself, “Should I record this? Nah! Nobody’s going to care about a national/religious cataclysm like that”?

Do you say, “Hmm. I better wait and see if this prophecy is fulfilled before I write about it”?

Of course not!

You tell your audience about this important, yet-to-be-fulfilled prophecy, just like you tell them about the Second Coming.

Ehrman’s argument is without merit.

 

On the Other Hand . . .

The fact the Gospels contain the prediction also doesn’t mean that they were written before 70.

They contain many prophecies of Jesus which were already fulfilled when they were written (e.g., “The Son of man will be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him; and when he is killed, after three days he will rise”; Mark 9:31).

So, like Ehrman, I also need to offer something more if I want to argue that Jesus’ prophecy about the temple was not yet fulfilled when the Gospels were written.

It so happens I’ve recently been doing a detailed, multi-angle study on just that subject.

Space limitations constrain the size of blog posts, so I can’t share anything like the full results of that study, but let me give you just one argument, in capsule form.

 

The Second Coming

We’ve already noted that the Gospels contain an important prediction that almost everyone agrees has not yet been fulfilled—the Second Coming of Christ.

What we haven’t previously noted is that the passages in which Jesus most extensively discusses the destruction of the temple (Matt. 24, Mark 13, Luke 21) also contain predictions of an event that looks very much like the Second Coming.

Either the Evangelists recorded prophecies of the Second Coming right next to prophecies of the destruction of the temple or they recorded prophecies of a different kind of coming in conjunction with those about the temple.

Either way, it would have been very easy for the first Gospel readers to think that Jesus predicted that the Second Coming would happen in proximity to the destruction of the temple.

That tells us something about when the Gospels were written, because if they were written after A.D. 70, the Evangelists would not want to give their audience the impression that the prophecy of the Second Coming had failed to occur on schedule, when the temple was destroyed.

Had they been writing after that event, they would have made it clear that the Second Coming was something distinct, that Jesus hadn’t said it would occur with the destruction of the temple.

We thus have good evidence that the Gospels—or at least those that explicitly contain the prophecy of the temple’s destruction (Matthew, Mark, and Luke)—were written before it was fulfilled, not after.

The Weekly Francis – 21 November 2018

This version of The Weekly Francis covers material released in the last week from 1 May 2018 to 21 November 2018.

Angelus

General Audiences

Homilies

Letters

Messages

Speeches

Papal Tweets

  • “Do not follow Jesus only when you feel like it, rather, seek Him every day. Find in Him the God who loves you always, the meaning of your life and the strength to give of yourself.” @Pontifex 16 November 2018
  • “Nobody can delude themselves by thinking, “I’m fine because I’m not doing anything wrong”. To be a follower of Jesus it is not enough not to do wrong, because there is good that we must do!” @Pontifex 17 November 2018
  • “Let us ask for the grace to open our eyes and hearts to the poor in order to hear their cry and recognize their needs. #WorldDayofthePoor
    http://w2.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/messages/poveri/documents/papa-francesco_20180613_messaggio-ii-giornatamondiale-poveri–2018.html …” @Pontifex 18 November 2018
  • “You cannot love only as long as it is “advantageous”. Love manifests itself when it goes beyond one’s own self-interest, and when it is given without reservation.” @Pontifex 19 November 2018
  • “Faithfulness is the characteristic of free, mature and responsible human relationships.” @Pontifex 20 November 2018
  • “Since today is World Fisheries Day, let us pray for all seafarers and advocate for a global commitment to stop human trafficking and forced labor in the fishing industry. #WorldFisheriesDay” @Pontifex 21 November 2018
  • “May the Virgin Mary help us joyfully follow Jesus on the way of service, the royal road that leads to Heaven.” @Pontifex 21 November 2018

Papal Instagram

Emissary – Secrets of Star Trek

Emissary

The first episode of Star Trek: Deep Space 9 is perhaps the best first episode of any Trek series. Jimmy Akin, Dom Bettinelli, and Fr. Cory Sticha discuss the introduction of Sisko, his fatherhood, his resentments and reluctance, and the religious overtones that will last through the series.

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Kerblam! – The Secrets of Doctor Who

We celebrate our 100th episode with a BANG! Jimmy Akin, Dom Bettinelli, and Fr. Cory Sticha discuss “Kerblam!” and how it completely subverts your expectations and the usual tropes about technology, automation, and people.

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God Under Another Name?

A reader writes:

Old Testament scholars like Knauf and Romer make a case for YHWH being a storm god related to Qos and Edomite religion, based on a linguistic case.

If their theory was plausible and you had to accept it, how would you reconcile that with your faith? Assume that their arguments are very convincing. How would you reconcile that with orthodox theology?

Since most people aren’t very familiar with the Edomites, let me begin my response with some background . . .

 

Meeting the Edomites

The Edomites were a people who lived in a region to the south of Israel. The Old Testament indicates that they were related to the Israelites. Their patriarch—Edom, also known as Esau—was the brother of Jacob, who was also known as Israel. The two peoples are thus deemed as being related by blood.

Just as Jacob and Esau had a sibling rivalry, so did the peoples that descended from them, and they often found themselves in competition and conflict, though they also had a shared sense of kinship that endured.

Thus one of the criticisms of the Edomites in the book of Obadiah is that they took advantage of Israel’s distress and even raided Jerusalem, despite the fact that they were kinsmen (Obad. 10-14).

This sense of kinship indicates a shared heritage that would likely includes religious elements. Thus we find archaeological evidence of the worship of Yahweh in Edom. Bert Dicou explains:

Evidence for an old connection of YHWH with Edom can also be found in extra-biblical sources. Some inscriptions found in Kuntillet ’Ajrud, mentioning the ‘YHWH of Teman’ besides a ‘YHWH of Samaria’, may even be interpreted as suggesting that in Edom (at least, in Teman) around 800 bce (the time of the inscriptions) YHWH was worshipped, since the expression ‘YHWH of Samaria’ clearly refers to YHWH as present in his cultic centre in Samaria (Edom, Israel’s Brother and Antagonist, 179).

 

The Deity Qos

The major Edomite deity was named Qos, and scholars have wondered about the relationship between Qos and Yahweh. Unfortunately, the Old Testament gives us virtually no positive information, although some have tried to mount an argument from silence. Dicou explains:

A problem within the religion history of Israel and its neighbours is the puzzling absence of the most important Edomite god, Qos, in the Old Testament. Whereas the gods of the other neighbours are rejected as well as mentioned by their names, neither happens to the Edomite god or gods. . . .

This can possibly be explained by assuming that Edom’s Qos did not differ very much from Israel’s YHWH—which must have made it difficult to reject him. It has been asserted that there are important correspondences between YHWH and Edom’s god Qos (176-177).

 

Same God, Different Name?

One possibility is thus that Qos and Yahweh are the same God being referred to by different terms.

This would not be surprising, as in the Old Testament itself, Yahweh is referred to by multiple terms: El, Elohim, Adonai, etc.

The same is true of other deities in the Old Testament. Thus the generic term Ba’al (Hebrew, “Master”) is also called Hadad, Chemosh, etc.

We often see how the same deity could be called by different terms across linguistic barriers. Thus the Latin-speaking Romans referred to the same deity by the names of Jupiter and Jove that Greek-speakers referred to as Zeus.

Even today, language barriers result in Christians all over the world using different terms for God:

  • Spanish-speaking Christians refer to God as Dios
  • Polish-speaking Christians refer to God as Bog
  • German-speaking Christians refer to God as Gott
  • Arabic-speaking Christians refer to God as Allah
  • Finnish-speaking Christians refer to God as Jumala
  • Hungarian-speaking Christians refer to God as Isten

You get the point.

Given all this terminological diversity, it’s quite possible that the Israelites and the Edomites, at least at times, simply used different terms for the same deity.

This is all the more plausible since the Edomites didn’t speak exactly the same language as the Israelites, and even in Hebrew, God can be referred to with terms as different as El and Yahweh.

Maybe in Edomite he was Yahweh and Qos.

This would explain why Qos isn’t condemned in the Old Testament the way other foreign deities are.

 

Yahweh a Storm God?

The reader referred to the idea that Yahweh and Qos may have been storm gods, but we need to be careful here.

In the Old Testament, Yahweh is not presented simply as a storm god. He is the God of everything, and everything includes storms.

Storms are very powerful, and thus they make a good metaphor for divine power. It’s thus no surprise that various Old Testament books use storm imagery in connection with Yahweh.

Despite the use of storm themes in the Old Testament, the biblical writers did not conceive of Yahweh simply as a storm god.

For them, he was the everything God—the Creator of the entire world—and they also use fire themes, harvest themes, healing themes, birth themes, death themes, battle themes, and many others. But that wouldn’t let us reduce Yahweh to simply being a fire god, a harvest god, a healing god, a birth god, a death god, or a war god.

 

Yahweh vs. Ba’al

There’s also another reason to be careful about thinking of Yahweh as principally a storm god: When the Old Testament uses such imagery in connection with him, it is often part of a deliberate attempt to subvert Ba’al worship.

In the Canaanite pantheon, Ba’al was the storm god. In Canaanite mythology, Ba’al also famously had a conflict with the sea god, Yam, who he conquered.

During much of the Old Testament period, Israelites were tempted to worship Ba’al (and the other Canaanite deities), but the prophets make it very clear that Yahweh and Ba’al are two different deities.

That’s why—if you’ll pardon a storm-related pun—they thunderously denounce Ba’al worship.

We thus find the biblical authors using Ba’al-related imagery to subvert Ba’al worship. By using storm imagery for Yahweh, they are saying, “Ba’al isn’t the true lord of the storm; Yahweh is.”

Similarly, the biblical authors subvert Ba’al worship when they make it clear that it was actually Yahweh who set the boundaries of the sea (Job 38:10-11, Prov. 8:29, Psa. 104:9, Jer. 5:22)—the Hebrew word for which is also yam.

We thus have to be careful that we recognize what the biblical authors are doing with storm imagery and not simply reduce Yahweh to being a storm god.

 

Revelation, Loss, and Clarification

The Bible depicts God and man as experiencing an original unity. This implies that God revealed himself to us at the dawn of our race.

However, as the Old Testament makes clear, our knowledge of God became disfigured by sin, and the worship of other gods was introduced.

The disfigurement became so bad that, prior to the time of Abraham, the ancestors of the Israelites worshipped the Mesopotamian deities (Josh. 24:2, 14-15).

But God began to rebuild knowledge of himself by calling Abraham and giving him new revelation. This knowledge was further clarified with the revelation given to Moses, and later through the prophets and other biblical writers.

We thus see a process whereby the original knowledge of God was largely lost, but God began to reintroduce knowledge of who he was and thus clarify our understanding of him.

This process was gradual and messy. At first, many of God’s people worshipped other deities in addition to him (Gen. 31:34-35, Lev. 17:7, Josh. 24:14). This continued even after God brought the Israelites into the promised land.

But through the prophets’ repeated calls, God made it clear to the Israelites that this must stop, and by the end of the Babylonian Exile, the practice was definitively ended.

 

Avoiding Overreach

One of the difficulties that scholars have in piecing together how this process worked is the small amount of information we have about this period in history.

Aside from the Old Testament, we have little literature about Israel and its immediate neighbors (Edom, Moab, Midian, etc.), and the Old Testament does not give us a great deal of information about many of these questions.

As a result, scholars are often left to simply guess at many issues pertaining to these early periods.

For example, one scholar (M. Rose) has proposed that Qos was not the same deity as Yahweh, and his worship was introduced only later. Dicou explains:

Rose maintains that only in later times, namely the eighth or seventh centuries bce, did the god Qos, of Arabian origin, come to be known in Edom. Nothing is known about the god who was worshipped before Qos, but it is not unlikely that it was the same god as the one of the Israelites, namely, ‘YHW’ (178).

In other words, the Edomites may have originally worshipped Yahweh, but later Qos was introduced and became their most popular deity.

How would that transition have happened? We don’t know.

Would it even have been clear to the Edomites from the beginning that Yahweh and Qos were different deities? We don’t know that either.

Scholars of religion have noted that there can sometimes be confusion about the identity or non-identity of deities, and it can go back and forth.

Sometimes—for some worshippers—Deity X will be regarded as the same as Deity Y. But other times—for other worshippers—Deity X and Deity Y will be clearly distinct.

Thus in different streams of Hinduism, the deities are sometimes considered to be separate, but in other streams they are all considered aspects of a single, ultimate God.

Closer to home, the God of the Bible was regarded by the first Christians as one, but heretics like Marcion and the Gnostics came to think of the God of the Old Testament as a fundamentally different being than the God of the New Testament.

A modern example of the same phenomenon can be seen in the fact that many Christians today are willing to acknowledge that God is also worshipped by Jews and Muslims, even if they have an incomplete or partially erroneous understanding of him. But others will vigorously deny that Muslims worship the same God as Christians.

The same phenomenon happened in the ancient world. Not everybody had the same understanding of whether this god was the same as that god.

Therefore, some Edomites may have understood Yahweh and Qos to be the same, but others may have disagreed, and the popularity of the two viewpoints may have gone back and forth over time.

We just don’t know.

This is why we have to be careful to avoid overreach—to avoid going beyond what the evidence allows us to say with confidence.

Scholars may legitimately speculate about how the identification or non-identification of various gods developed over time, precisely how the worship of these gods arose and when, etc., however we must always bear in mind that these are just speculations.

The truth is that we don’t have the evidence we would need to be sure.

 

“Not Without Witness”

Although the biblical evidence—as well as the archaeological record—makes it clear that man’s knowledge of the Creator was strongly disfigured, the New Testament establishes the principle that he did not leave himself without witness.

In Acts, Paul explains that he did so at least through the creation itself:

In past generations he allowed all the nations to walk in their own ways; yet he did not leave himself without witness, for he did good and gave you from heaven rains and fruitful seasons, satisfying your hearts with food and gladness (Acts 14:16-17).

He makes a similar point in Romans:

For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. Ever since the creation of the world his invisible nature, namely, his eternal power and deity, has been clearly perceived in the things that have been made (Rom. 1:19-20).

And thus people in various cultures have reasoned their way to the existence of the Creator. This included figures in polytheistic Greece, some of whom Paul quotes:

Yet he is not far from each one of us, for “In him we live and move and have our being”; as even some of your poets have said, “For we are indeed his offspring” (Acts 17:27-28).

If God cared enough to make it possible for us to always learn about him through creation—what is sometimes called “general revelation”—then it is reasonable to suppose that he also always continued to give “special revelation”—that is knowledge about him disclosed through visions, prophecies, etc.

This would apply even in the dark times before Abraham and Moses and even in communities other than Israel.

Thus we find figures like the Jebusite king Melchizedek, who “was priest of God Most High” (Gen. 14:18), the Midianite priest Jethro, who rejoiced at what God did for Israel under Moses (Exod. 18:9-12), and the Mesopotamian prophet Balaam, who prophesied for Yahweh (Num. 22:8-24:25).

We thus see a knowledge and worship of the true God outside of Israel in these early times.

At our remote date, we cannot know the details of this knowledge and worship. It may have—and in fact almost certainly was—partial and at times confused, for that is what we see within Israel itself, as the struggles of the prophets indicate.

However, we can say that God always preserved a knowledge of himself, however dimly he was understood in a particular age, and however hybridized his worship came to be with pagan ideas.

We may be thankful that he did lead the Israelites along the path he did, that he did restore knowledge of himself, that he did clear away pagan confusions, and that he finally gave us the full revelation of himself in Jesus Christ, his Son.

 

Summary

With the above as background, I would offer a short summary of the response to the reader’s initial query as follows:

  • The speculations about Yahweh and Qos being storm gods who were related is, in fact, not at all certain.
  • However, even if it could be proved, there are a number of ways to square this with an orthodox Christian understanding:
    • Yahweh and Qos may well have been the same deity being worshipped under two names.
    • Yahweh may have been the earlier deity and Qos only introduced later.
    • God has always preserved knowledge of himself in the world. Even though it has been partial and overlaid with misunderstandings, God eventually clarified it and gave us his definitive revelation through his Son.