Jordan W. Jones and Christopher Pascarella, Ecclesiastes and Song of Songs (Kerux)

Jones, Jordan W. and Christopher Pascarella. Ecclesiastes and Song of Songs. A Commentary for Biblical Preaching and Teaching. Kerux Commentaries. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Kregel Ministry, 2024. 355 pp. Hb. $34.99   Link to Kregel Ministry  

In this new volume in Kregel’s Kerux series, Jordan W. Jones (PhD, Hebrew Union College) provides an exegesis of Ecclesiastes and Song of Songs. Jones serves as assistant professor of biblical studies at Regent University School of Divinity. He has previously published She Opens Her Hand to the Poor: Gestures and Social Values in Proverbs (Gorgias Press, 2019). Pastor of Lincroft Bible Church in New Jersey, Christopher Pascarella (DMin, SBTS) writes the preaching strategies for the commentary.

Ecclesiastes and Song of Songs

In the introduction to Ecclesiastes (pages 33-54), Jones suggests the author is an inspired scribe in the tradition of the Israelite monarchy whose teachings are presented by the narrator” (33). A later writer adopted Solomon’s persona, so Ecclesiastes is “essentially Solomonic.” It is wisdom first presented by Solomon but not written down until much later. He calls this later writer the frame narrator, referring to the literary frame (1:1-2; 12:8-14). The book was “conceived early but presented late” (41). The rest of the book is an accurate reflection of Solomon’s teaching. For some conservative readers, the idea Solomon is not the actual author of Ecclesiastes and Song of Songs may come as a surprise. But this reflects a broad consensus in contemporary scholarship, including that of many evangelical writers.

Jones agrees that the language of Ecclesiastes is late, coming from the Persian or pre-Hellenistic period. Concerning the occasion, scholars often suggest that Ecclesiastes is a counterbalance to the book of Proverbs. The Qohelet (as the author of Ecclesiastes is frequently called), responds to “a caricature of established wisdom” (43). He is not subverting proverbs. Like Job, the writer can affirm Proverbs and express honest angst at the disillusionment that comes when proverbial wisdom does not work out quite right. Jones demonstrates that the book is structured similarly to Egyptian and Mesopotamian autobiographical texts, which often include accomplishments, affirmations of ethical conduct, and admonitions to the reader (in this, he is following Tremper Longman’s 1998 commentary). Ecclesiastes is a “wisdom-centric autobiography” (45).

Jones summarizes the theological emphasis of Ecclesiastes in four points. First, Jones shows that Ecclesiastes is interested in the eternality of God and the futility of human endeavor. Human endeavors are temporary, and they lack substance. Second, the works of God and their incomprehensibility. Humans do not even know the things we think we know! Third is future judgment. Even though the book of Ecclesiastes does not have a fully formed view of life after death, the book is clear that the wicked will be judged 8:10-11. Fourth, Jones describes the Qohelet’s “holy disillusionment.” Qohelet is a realist who views the world in an enigmatic way. He has this affection for the world’s false forms of salvation.

Jones makes similar observations about the author and date of the Song of Songs. In his introduction to the Song (211–224), he suggests that the author was “an inspired scribe in the tradition of Solomonic wisdom.” He dates the book to the eighth to sixth century B.C. There are some parallels to Egyptian love poetry, but in linguistic arguments are not conclusive for dating the book. He suggests the book was possibly written during Hezekiah’s revival of wisdom (215).

The original hears of the song of songs would understand that the text is a collection of romantic love songs. They would not have fought. The book was an allegory for God’s relationship with Israel. Jones rejects allegorical interpretation since it distracts readers from the Song of Songs as wisdom and literature, describing human sexual love (216). He briefly discusses various methods of interpretation, from highly allegorical to highly literal. He suggests allegory was used early, even as early as the translation of the book, where some of the sexuality is downplayed. The book has been interpreted in “innumerable strange ways throughout the centuries” (217). Jones considers allegorical strategies an “interpretive paralysis,” implying the meaning of the Song is lost and cannot be recovered.

Even modern writers still argue for allegorical (Ellen Davis, 2000) or typological (James Hamilton, 2015) approaches. In his 1993 NAC commentary, Duane Garrett suggested typology is just another way of “letting allegory in the back door.” For most commentaries, the theology of Song of Songs is the most challenging aspect of the book. Besides a possible reference in 8:6, why is God never mentioned in the book? Is the book really about love and a sexual relationship? Jones summarizes the theology of the book and two points. First, romantic love is informed by God’s wisdom and, therefore, looks different than the love of other ancient Near Eastern cultures (to say nothing modern examples of love). Second, romantic love can serve as an analogy for love’s power and worth. He suggests this can be an analogy for the relationship between God and his church in the new covenant. But this is not allegory or typology: Jones is drawing an analogy (so he gets to the same place allegory and typology does by calling it analogical).

Jones and Pascarella divide Ecclesiastes into ten preaching units and Song of Songs into nine. Each unit begins with a review of the exegetical idea, a theological focus, a preaching idea, and preaching pointers for the passage. Jones’s exegesis is based on the Hebrew Bible (all Hebrew appears without transliteration). All secondary literature is cited in-text, and there are no footnotes in the commentary. In previous Kerux commentaries, authors included a box-like sidebar called “Translation Analysis” to deal with lexical and syntactical details or to compare various English translations. This information appears in the body of the commentary. There are no Translation Analysis” boxes in the commentary. I see this as an improvement that makes the commentary more readable. The commentary strives to place these books in their proper ancient Near Eastern context. Jones often points out how this background illuminates the text, and illustrations (cuneiform tablets and inscriptions, often drawn from Pritchard’s Ancient Near East in Pictures) are scattered throughout the commentary.

Pascarella’s homiletical suggestions are well done. These are some of the shortest “preaching ideas” I have seen in the Kerux series, brief and to the point. In the “creativity in presentation” section, his cultural references are relevant and up to date. Each preaching unit ends with a few bullet points that form a sermon outline and a series of discussion questions that will guide sermons toward the appropriate application of these difficult sections of the Bible.

As with other Kerux volumes, many sidebars for cultural background, theology, or technical details go beyond what would typically be in the body of a commentary. In the Ecclesiastes commentary, for example, Jones has sidebars on Contradictions in Ecclesiastes, the Meaning of Vanity, Royal Identity in the Ancient Near East, Futility in Gilgamesh, Responding to Divine Omnipotence and Human Powerlessness, Life after Death in Qohelet, the Folly of Anger; Relevance of Wisdom and Ecclesiastes 10:2 and Qohelet and Women. A two-page sidebar is on the Women’s Glorious Appearance in Song of Songs. Other interesting sidebars include Ambiguity in the Song and Sexual Metaphors and Innuendo.

Conclusion. Preaching Ecclesiastes in a way that is faithful to the text can be difficult. Preaching Song of Songs is fraught with difficulties. Jones and Pascarella offer pastors and teachers a way to present the challenging books to their congregations in a way that respects ancient culture and the author’s original intention. The commentary encourages appropriate application without excessive allegorical or typological methods (especially in Song of Songs).

 

NB: Thanks to Kregel for kindly providing me with a review copy of this book. This did not influence my thoughts regarding the work.

Other volumes reviewed in this series:

 

Biblical Studies Carnival #221 for October 2024

Biblical Studies Carnival

Veteran BiblioBlogger Jim West hosts Biblical Studies Carnival #221 for October 2024. Since Jim’s blog is “all Reformation all the time,” it is no surprise that he has quite a few Reformation posts in his Carnival. Jim says he decided that the Carnivals he hosts should reach beyond just the blogs and draw the best posts from “wheresoever they are found.” This includes substacks (which are blogs) and podcasts (which are talking blogs). he includes some grant information, which may interest some.  I don’t think I saw any TikTok posts. Maybe we should all encourage Jim to become a lifestyle influencer on TokTok. I think he could pull that off.

If you made it to the end of his post, Jim observes, “Next Month’s should be pretty fun if it’s done right because it will cover SBL.” It will be good because I am hosting it, but yes…November is prime time for Biblical and Theological Studies on the internet. If you post a copy of your paper to Academia.edu or Humanities Commons, or your blog, let me know, and I will include it for those who could not attend SBL/AAR in person.

As always, I am looking for volunteers for the Biblical Studies Carnival starting in December 2024. Check out Jim’s Carnival or mine from this summer to get an idea of what people include in the Biblical Studies Carnival. But every Carnival is different, so you can feel free to include more theology, church history, archaeology, or whatever biblically-related discipline interests you. I would love to have a host who knows more podcasts to focus on that aspect of biblical studies on the internet.

Contact me (plong42@gmail.com) or on the shambling horror that is Twitter these days (plong42).

And remember, November 1 only means Christmas is coming….far too soon.

Biblical Studies Carnival

 

Douglas J. Moo, The Letters to the Colossians and to Philemon (Second Edition; PNTC)

Moo, Douglas J. The Letters to the Colossians and to Philemon. PNTC. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2024. xlix+478 pp.; Hb.; $53.99. Link to Eerdmans.

This second edition of the Pillar New Testament Commentary on Colossians and Philemon replaces Moo’s 2008 volume. In his brief preface to the second edition, Moo indicates that this new edition updates the commentary with secondary literature written over the last fifteen years. The original commentary had a select bibliography (twenty-one pages), while the second edition has a full bibliography (thirty-six pages). In the introduction to Colossians, the first edition had 87 footnotes; the second edition had 107. Many older notes have been updated with newer literature.

Colossians Philemon

In his introduction to Colossians (pages 3-54), Moo begins where most commentaries on Colossians must begin, by discussing the authorship of the letter. Did Paul write Colossians, or is it pseudepigraphic? Colossians appears quite different from Romans, 1-2 Corinthians, and Galatians in style and theology. Moo interacts with Luke Timothy Johnson’s suggestion that Paul authored the letter but did not write it. He “supervised” the production of the letter. Similarly, James Dunn suggested Timothy wrote the letter with loose supervision by Paul. Although these are possible ways to avoid Colossians as a late pseudepigrapha, Moo rejects both. “Paul must be seen as the real author” (20). Concerning provenance, Moo recognizes that the letter may be written from a hypothetical Ephesian imprisonment, but he slightly prefers Rome as the place of writing (26). This introductory material remains more or less the same as the first edition of the commentary.

Commentaries on Colossians also need to deal with the nature of the false teaching Paul responds to in the letter. As Moo observes, there are a bewildering number of scholarly reconstructions of the so-called Colossian Heresy (27). He rejects the view of older commentators that Colossians is walking about Gnostics. If Paul wrote the book, then Gnostics as we know them do not exist yet. Nor does he think calling the opponents proto-Gnostics is helpful. Any Gnostic or Stoic elements in Colossians are simply part of the general first-century intellectual environment. Moo suggests the best solution is to admit there are two or more perspectives behind the false teachers. He summarizes what Colossians 2:8-23 implies about the false teachers in eleven points, none of which are controversial. Following this list, he makes three more controversial points. First, the false teachers use the language of “fullness.” But this is not drawn from Gnostic or Stoic thinking. Second, the false teachers advocate circumcision, implying Jewish influence. Third, the false teachers denigrate Christ or at least question the sufficiency of Christ.

Based on this evidence, Moo surveys several possible solutions for the identity of the false teachers. First, the Colossian Heresy was some form of Jewish mysticism. This was most recently Scot McKnight’s solution in his NICNT commentary. Second, James Dunn suggested that false teaching is nothing more than Judaism. Third, Clint Arnold thought the opponents represented a syncretic mix of local Phrygian folk belief, Judaism, and Christianity. Moo is convinced by Arnold (especially since it also includes the first two elements). This conclusion remains unchanged from the first edition.

In his introduction to Philemon (pages 351-370), Moo observes that Pauline authorship is rarely doubted for this short letter. The introduction to commentaries on Philemon uses mirror reading to construct a plausible story explaining why Paul is sending a letter about a slave named Onesimus to Philemon. Moo lists out several points that seem clear from the letter and then summarizes several suggested scenarios. Two merit discussion. First, Onesimus was an escaped slave who arrived where Paul was in prison (whether Ephesus or Rome) and somehow encountered Paul. Paul led him to Christ and now sends him to his master to ask forgiveness. The letter is a “letter of recommendation” for Onesimus, in which Paul advocates clemency. A second solution is to argue Onesimus is not an escaped slave. He was wronged in some way by his master and knew Philemon was a Christian under Paul’s influence. Onesimus purposefully traveled to visit Paul and enlist his help as an advocate. Like the first edition, Moo finds deciding between these two likely scenarios challenging.

The problem for modern readers of Philemon is that Paul did not ask Philemon to set his slave Onesimus free. Why did Paul not tell Philemon to free his slave now that he was a brother in Christ? To answer this question, Moo discusses slavery in the Roman world and early Christian attitudes toward slavery. Even though it appears that there is no explicit command to free Onesimus, Moo wonders if a master/slave relationship is appropriate now that he is a “dear brother.” Moo observes that slavery is “not what Philemon is ultimately about.” Following N. T. Wright, he concludes that the book is about fellowship in Christ. “In Christ, we belong to one another; we enjoy each other’s company and support; and we are obliged to support, to point to the point of sacrificing our own time, interests, and money, [on behalf of] our brothers and sisters” (370).

The body of the commentary follows the pattern of other Pillar commentaries. Moo proceeds through the text verse-by-verse, commenting on the English text. Although the commentary is based on the NIV, he does refer to the Greek text with all Greek words transliterated, so readers without Greek training will have no trouble with the commentary. Interaction with secondary sources appears in footnotes. The notes are often updated with additional secondary sources published since the first edition. Like the introduction, there are slightly more footnotes in the section edition. For example, the first edition covers Colossians 2:6-4:6 in 156 pages (175-331), and has 522 footnotes. The second edition covers the same section in 163 pages (162-325), with 565 footnotes. The first edition reset note numbering for each section; the second edition has continuous numbers throughout the 163-page section. I also noticed one other helpful cosmetic change. Passages in Colossians are now given as chapter and verse (3:12-17) rather than vv. 12-17.

Conclusion. Twelve years ago, when I wrote a post on the top five Colossians commentaries, I included Moo’s first edition in the Pillar New Testament Commentary series. After reviewing what I said, I still think this commentary is excellent. Along with Scot McKnight’s NICNT volumes on Colossians and Philemon, this is one of the first commentaries I pull off the shelf when I study Colossians. It will serve academics, pastors, and Bible teachers as they prepare to present this essential but often overlooked Pauline letter.

If you already own the first edition, do you need the second edition? Maybe. The updated bibliography makes this new edition essential to scholars working on Colossians. However, the content of the exegesis has not changed much, so pastors and teachers may not need to upgrade to the second edition.

 

NB: Thanks to Eerdmans for kindly providing me with a review copy of this book. This did not influence my thoughts regarding the work.

Paul Barnett, The Trials of Jesus: Evidence, Conclusions, and Aftermath

Barnett, Paul. The Trials of Jesus: Evidence, Conclusions, and Aftermath. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2024. viii+223 pp.; Pb.; $24.99. Link to Eerdmans.

Paul Barnett’s new book on the trials of Jesus joins three similar size books on the origins of Christianity: The Birth of Christianity: The First Twenty Years (Eerdmans 2005), Paul, Missionary of Jesus (Eerdmans 2008), Finding the Historical Christ (Eerdmans 2009). Barnett also wrote the 2 Corinthians volume in the NICNT series (Eerdmans 1997). Formerly the Anglican Bishop of North Sydney (1990 to 2001), Barnett is now a fellow in ancient history at Macquarie University and a teaching fellow at Regent College.

Trials of Jesus

How did Jesus get crucified for a political crime? Barnett traces hundreds of years of political and social change in Judea that led to Jesus’s trial as a rebel against Rome. The first half of the book describes this political struggle in detail. Barnett argues that the power of the high priest had increased in the early first century, and the Pilate lost his support in Rome. This allowed Caiaphas to manipulate Pilate into crucifying Christ.

The Trials of Jesus is divided into twenty-seven short chapters in four sections. Part one, Barnett describes the dynastic background of the New Testament. He begins with Israel’s return from exile and life under the Persian Empire and the rise of Hellenism leading up to the Maccabean Revolt. Some readers might question the need to go this far back into backgrounds to describe the trials of Jesus. However, as he warns in his concluding reflections, “Reading the gospels easily gives the impression that their narrative picks up where the leader books of kings end” (203), but this is not the case. This background material is necessary to understand the power struggle between the Herodians, Rome, and the high priests in Jerusalem. The clash between these powerful forces resulted in the crucifixion of Jesus.

In part two, Barnett tracks the end of Herod the Great’s reign and the division of his land between his three sons, which led to political chaos. It was to this world that Jesus came as a “prophet and rabbi” in Galilee. He introduces political players in Jesus’s crucifixion: the two high priests (Annas and Caiaphas), Pontius Pilate, and Herod Antipas. Barnett emphasizes the role of an often-overlooked figure, Judas the Galilean. In his concluding reflections, he stresses that the crucifixion results from political jealousy (207). In A.D. 6, Judas led a rebellion against Rome when Herod Archelaus was deposed. Jesus would have been a teenager at the time. Judas is sometimes associated with Josephus’s Fourth Philosophy, a group that argued Jews ought to recognize no king but God.

In part three, Barnett describes the various trials of Jesus. Beginning with a chapter on the Jewish trial, he has separate chapters on the Roman trial in the synoptic gospels and the same trial in the gospel of John. Barnett includes a chapter on Josephus’s account of the trials. The problem for historians is that Josephus’s brief paragraph on Jesus contains clear Christian additions. Barnett thinks these Christian additions can be removed so that Josephus can be used as a witness to the trial of Jesus.

In part four, Barnett begins with a chapter on the theology of the gospel of Marc, the earliest Gospel written. Mark presents Jesus as the spotless lamb and a new sacrifice leading to a love-based ethic. Chapter 24 tracks what he calls “Annas Vendetta” against Jesus’s disciples, who continued to preach the resurrection of Jesus despite being warned by the high priests to be silent. This is basically an overview of the first nine chapters of the Book of Acts leading up to the conversion of Saul. He observes that Galatians is “arguably the most important documentary evidence for earliest Christianity” (193), describing Paul’s revelation on the way to Damascus (which Barnett dates to A.D. 34). He compares information from Galatians to the gospel of John, one of the last books written in the New Testament.

Conclusion. For a book entitled The Trials of Jesus, there is less on the trials than expected (as little as three short chapters). However, the book’s goal is not a complete explanation of the trial sections of the Gospels. Barnett wants to explain why Jesus came to be tried as a political prisoner. To do this, he must necessarily review the remote background to the entire New Testament so that readers can understand the political machinations of the Herodians, the high priests Annas and Caiaphas, and Pilate. Readers should appreciate his short explanations of detailed history. Barnett connects often complicated history to the events of the New Testament. Although some chapters seem like tangents, they all contribute to the larger project of offering the political background to the trials of Jesus.

 

NB: Thanks to Eerdmans for kindly providing me with a review copy of this book. This did not influence my thoughts regarding the work.

Tucker S. Ferda, Jesus and His Promised Second Coming: Jewish Eschatology and Christian Origins

Ferda, Tucker S. Jesus and His Promised Second Coming: Jewish Eschatology and Christian Origins. Foreword by Dale C. Allison, Jr. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2024. xxvi+538 pp.; Hb.; $69.99. Link to Eerdmans.

Tucker S. Ferda is associate professor of New Testament at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. He previously published Jesus, the Gospels, and the Galilean Crisis (LNTS 601; Bloomsbury, 2018) as well as several articles on Jewish eschatology. In his foreword, Dale Allison Jr. says this book significantly contributes to recent research on Jesus of Nazareth and early Christianity.

Jewish Eschatology

How did the expectation of Jesus’s imminent return emerge in early Christianity? In this book, Ferda argues that the idea came from Jesus himself. His interest is historical, and this book contributes richly to Historical Jesus studies. He is not interested in making theological claims. Ferda comes at the topic backward. Most scholars are interested in determining the authentic words of Jesus using various criteria; once this pool of authentic sayings is recovered, differences between Jesus and the early church emerge. Since sayings implying an interim after his resurrection before his return as the eschatological judged are usually deemed as non-authentic, scholar assumes the early church created them as they developed ways to deal with the shocking death of their leader.

In Part One, he begins with the pervasive idea in scholarship that Jesus was not interested in eschatology, nor did he expect to be killed, resurrected, and then, after an interim, return to earth as the eschatological judge. Since Jesus is assumed to be non-eschatological, scholars then argue that anything implying Jesus thought he might go away for a time and then return after an interim is a later addition by the early church. In Part Two, he suggests reasons for this pervasive rejection of an eschatological Jesus in Historical Jesus studies. In Part Three, Ferda outlines early Christian expectations of the return of Jesus. He begins with the apostle Paul and moves to the various layers of the gospel tradition. Only after establishing the early church belief in an imminent return of Jesus does he examine the words of Jesus (Part Four).

Very few historical Jesus scholars think Jesus predicted a return after his death. Ferda begins part one by examining two studies on the return of Jesus.: T. Francis Glasson, The Second Advent (originally published in 1946, third edition, 1963; reprinted W&S, 2009) and J. A. T. Robinson, Jesus and His Second Coming: The Emergence of a Doctrine (Abingdon, 1957). Although it might be objected that these books are more than 60 years old, it is true that most scholars in the last half of the twentieth century did not think Jesus predicted a second coming. More recently, N. T. Wright suggests the entire Olivet Discourse is symbolic of the fall of Jerusalem.

Referring to nineteenth-century scholars, Ferda says older critics fought an eschatological Jesus who was far too carnal, unspiritual, and, in their words, “too Jewish.” In most of these studies, there are assumptions about Jesus’s ethical teaching and the caricature of Judaism. The evangelist misshaped Jesus’s words. “But it does not bode well for the overall plausibility of a historical hypothesis if it requires us to conclude that Jesus was so roundly misunderstood by those who came after him” (37).

Later theological trends problematize eschatology, even a simple “second advent hope” (to say nothing of the eschatological weirdness described by Norman Cohn, for example). Earlier critics wanted to separate Jesus from Jewish eschatological ideas. Ferda charts Christian eschatology over the centuries in part two of the book. The vast majority of church history did have eschatological hope. Even though there has always been vigorous debate about when the Parousia would occur or what its nature might be, “the Parousia of Christ has been a hope for a real change of scenery” (63). Few denied that Jesus’s second advent would happen.

Ferda calls this early second advent hope a “painful thorn” for Historical Jesus scholars. An enlightened Jesus, as defined by nineteenth-century Protestant liberals, would not predict his return, so eschatology gets downplayed in scholarship. “They had assumed that suggesting the second coming hope had anything to do with historical Jesus with something only a Christian apologist would do” (93). Or worse, I would add, it is something only a dispensationalist would do! Why removed eschatological hope from the historical Jesus? First, most scholars have a disparaging attitude towards popular-level eschatology (premillennialism, dispensational theology). Second, mini scholars site to distance Jesus from “Jewish messianism.” Although this is associated with Strauss and Remarius and their predecessors, anti-Jewish Jesus began early in the church, developing, especially after Constantine. However, Tertullian once observed that “Christians expect Jesus to do exactly what Jews hope their Messiah will do” (cited 108-09).

Ferda begins to outline early Christian eschatology in part three of the book. It is generally agreed that the earliest Christians were expecting Jesus’ future to appear (133), or they were trying to make sense of hope. This is not an isolated belief of a few early Christ followers; it is pervasive in the New Testament. Beginning with Paul’s letters and moving chronologically through the synoptics, he surveys what these texts say about second hope. (Ferda assumes Markan priority and some form of Q, but this is unimportant for the overall argument.) “The general hope for Christ’s return was a fundamental element of Paul’s kerygma” (167). After carefully examining 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 and 1 Corinthians 15, he observes that in Mark, “we see a good deal in common with what we found in Paul” (194). The present state of things for Jesus’s followers is incomplete in his absence. They live in a time when the “bridegroom is taken away” (195). He carefully examines how Mathew and Luke wrote with Mark as a source.

Although Matthew and Luke’s Jesus do not say exactly the same thing as Mark’s Jesus, there is still hope for Jesus’s return in these later Gospels (implying that the hope for an imminent return of Jesus is not fading away at the end of the first century). All three Synoptic gospels are informed by well-known messianic texts from Isaiah, Daniel, etc. (255). Ferda compares the use of Daniel 7:13-14 in Mark 14:62, Matthew 26:64, and Luke 22:67-69 and concludes that both gospels see a future return, even if this is about a future enthronement. “Everywhere else we look, we find widespread agreement and creative development, wherein expansion and invention accentuate what the sources already contain” (232). This is true, even for the gospel of John. He argues that John does not represent a totally realized eschatology, nor does he see this as a “cooling” eschatological hope. Ferda examines the farewell discourse in John with parallels to the Synoptics. “John’s Jesus, too, talks about his future coming” (249), even if this language has been “stripped down” (250).

In part four, Ferda argues that the most plausible explanation for this early and pervasive second advent hope is the Historical Jesus. By the time 1 Thessalonians was written (the earliest book in the canon), the return of Jesus was already raising questions, and by 2 Peter (the last book written in the canon), it was an object of mockery! Ferda does not engage in recovering the actual words of Jesus as if that were possible. Instead, he suggests, “Jesus said things like this…” A second advent hope makes sense in the light of what the followers believed and in the context of the Second Temple Judaism (259). Although he is certain writers reframed traditions, “deeschatologiclization is not the key to understanding the development of early Christianity” (268, citing J.C. Paget).  For Ferda, Jesus himself used Daniel 7 eschatologically and as a self-reference (375). If Jesus thought he might die, he likely expected an interim between his resurrection and his second advent (427).

Conclusion. In Jesus and His Promised Second Coming, Tucker Ferda significantly contributes to the study of Historical Jesus. Picking up threads from recent studies of an apocalyptic Jesus and reception history, he makes a clear case that the simplest explanation for the early and pervasive hope that Jesus would return as the eschatological judge of Daniel 7 is that Jesus made these kinds of claims. I have long thought that the best way to understand Jesus’s eschatology, as well as that of the early church, is to understand Jewish eschatology in the Second Temple period. Ferda examines the issue from the other direction, suggesting that modern scholarly consensus bracketed out this evidence in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. I suspect many Historical Jesus scholars will remain unconvinced, but Ferda opens the possibility that Jesus thought he would return sometime after his death.

 

NB: Thanks to Eerdmans for kindly providing me with a review copy of this book. This did not influence my thoughts regarding the work.