Jeffrey Pulse, Figuring Resurrection: Joseph as a Death and Resurrection Figure

Pulse, Jeffrey. Figuring Resurrection: Joseph as a Death and Resurrection Figure in the Old Testament and Second Temple Judaism. Studies in Scripture and Biblical Theology; Lexham Academic, 2021. ix+309 pp. Pb. $29.99   Link to Lexham Press  

Studies in Scripture and Biblical Theology is a peer-reviewed series exploring topics and issues in biblical studies and biblical theology. Jeffrey Pulse is the Dr. Dean O. Wenthe Professor of Old Testament Theology at Concordia Theological Seminary and has been involved in pastoral ministry for twenty-two years. This monograph adapts his 2017 Ph.D. dissertation at the University of Durham.

In this study of Joseph as a resurrection figure, Pulse uses a biblical hermeneutic reading scripture as a unified theological narrative. He wants to trace biblical motifs as they weave their way through the canon. But this study does more. He examines the Joseph narrative (Genesis 37-50) in the Masoretic text (chapters 3-5). He then compares this to the Septuagint (chapter 6) and Targum Onqelos (chapter 7), Second Temple period literature (chapter 8), and (briefly) Philo and Josephus (chapter 9). Unlike Samuel Emadi, From Prisoner to Prince: The Joseph Story in Biblical Theology (NSBT 59; IVP Academic 2022), Pulse does not see Joseph as a “type of Christ” in the New Testament.ResurrectionPulse follows Brevard Child’s canonical approach, along with Bernard Levinson and Robert Alter. He focuses on the text’s final form and carefully observes the literary artistry and overarching themes that resonate across the canon. He rejects atomizing the text in favor of a narrative reading. Israel considered their scripture a united message from God. He wants to follow this lead as much as possible. Pulse’s methodology is neither a typology nor allegorical. For example, he traces several themes and motifs and Joseph across the canon. For example, he follows the “garment motif” from Genesis 3 to Revelation (55-56).

Chapter 3 is a detailed exegesis of Genesis 37-50 of the Masoretic text. At eighty pages, this section is a detailed commentary on the Joseph story and is well worth the price of the book by itself. Pulse gathers a series of death-and-resurrection motifs from this exegesis, such as the downward/upward movements. The Joseph story has twelve such motifs, conveniently listed on pages 7-8 and detailed in chapter 5. “No other character or portion of scripture has such a predominance of these various death-and-resurrection manifestations” (144).

Anyone who has read the Joseph story closely should be familiar with the downward/upward movements. For example, Joseph is thrown into a pit and raised up out of it; he is thrown into prison (also a pit), and once again, he is raised out of it. Pulse suggests the narrator intends the reader to see Joseph’s life as preserving the life of Abraham’s family. This applies in general terms to Israel’s exile from the land. Israel’s restoration is like a death and resurrection idea in Ezekiel 37 (the Valley of the Dry Bones vision). Pulse connects Israel’s restoration to moving Joseph’s bones back to the land after the Exodus (chapter 10). These “traveling bones” are a transition from the patriarchal stories in Genesis to the tribal stories (Exodus-Deuteronomy).

Chapter 4 deals with a potential problem, Joseph’s character. There are many flaws in Joseph’s character, and he is certainly not always a clear example of moral virtue. He cites Moberly, “patriarchal religion lacks moral content or at least moral emphasis in the way that contrasts with the strong moral content enjoined on Israel in the covenant at Sinai.” Joseph is an arrogant son and a bad brother. He may have even made himself available to Potiphar’s wife. He uses a cup of divination and lives like an Egyptian. He takes an Egyptian wife and names his son Manasseh, which refers to forgetting his father’s household. (Pulse suggests Jacob may reverse the blessings because of this name.) Deception seems to be a family trait (160). The questions raised by the Masoretic text are addressed in the Septuagint and the Targum versions of this story. I would add that Joseph’s moral failings are frequently overlooked in contemporary preaching on Joseph. But this is not new. The Second Temple period novel Joseph and Asenath makes Joseph into a paragon of virtue.

Chapter 5 concludes the book’s first part with a detailed examination of the death-and-resurrection motif in the Joseph narrative. Pulse surveys the Testament of Joseph (a biblical expansion written as early as 250 BCE). The story has many up/down movements, which Pulse argues represent the death-and-resurrection motif. Even though there may be Christian interpolations in the Testament of Joseph, this still contributes to Pulse’s argument since it shows early Jewish and Christian readers saw the up/down movement as a death-and-resurrection motif. He details the rest of his 12 sub-motifs, tracing how they are developed in the Joseph story and the larger context of the patriarchal narrative. For example, he traces a “barren woman/opening of the womb” motif, first looking back at Sarah, Rebecca, and Rachel, then looking forward to Samson’s birth and Zachariah and Elizabeth (Luke 1).

One might pause after reading the book’s first part and ask, “That is all fine, but did anyone else notice these motifs?” Chapters 6-10 trace the death-and-resurrection motif in the Septuagint, Targum Onqelos, and other Second Temple texts to respond to this question. Joseph is a salvific figure in the history of Israel who preserves the family and, in doing so, preserves the nation of Israel. He argues that the early church fathers read the story this way and relied on the Septuagint, where the salvific role is enhanced (174). He concludes, “As is often the case with Joseph, ancient exegetes chose to use him in a way that suited the purpose of their current situation” (215). The Septuagint preserves the up/down motif, and the salvific themes are enhanced, “indicating the possible advent of a messianic figure that will arise from his house in the blessings of Genesis 49” (215). But Targum Onqelos focuses on Joseph’s moral and ethical character.

Conclusion: Figuring Resurrection is an excellent study of the Joseph narrative. It does not rely on typology as many evangelical biblical theology studies do. Instead, Pulse uses careful exegesis to suggest themes that naturally arise from the text. Some readers may be disappointed that the canon in this book does not include much from the New Testament, but there is really nothing related to Joseph in the New Testament. Unlike other evangelical biblical theology series, this volume of the SSBT uses intertestamental literature. This permits Pulse to track his “resurrection figure” through several examples of Second Temple period writers, potentially tracking the development of an idea within early Judaism.

A short excerpt of the book appears on Lexham’s blog.

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

 

 

M. Jeff Brannon, The Hope of Life After Death: A Biblical Theology of Resurrection

Brannon, M. Jeff. The Hope of Life After Death: A Biblical Theology of Resurrection. ESBT; IVP Academic, 2023. xii+185 pp. Pb. $24.00   Link to IVP Academic  

Brannon is a professor of biblical studies and chair of the biblical studies at Belhaven University. His Ph.D. dissertation (written under Larry Hurtado) was published as The Heavenlies in Ephesians: A Lexical, Exegetical, and Conceptual Analysis (LNTS; Bloomsbury, 2011). The Hope of Life after Death develops some of those insights by examining the idea of resurrection throughout the canon of scripture.

Resurrection

Brannon begins by observing that the resurrection gets less attention than the atonement. Most studies on the resurrection are apologetic or historical in nature. In addition, most focus on only parts of Scripture, primarily the Pauline letters. But resurrection is an essential and central doctrine throughout the canon. Brannon argues that the hope of the resurrection is inextricably linked with the biblical theology themes of creation and redemption. Resurrection is, therefore, not a peripheral doctrine but an indispensable element of God’s plan of redemption. Moreover, Christian hope in bodily resurrection distinguishes Christianity from other religions and worldviews. Other than Judaism and Christianity, bodily resurrection is not found in other religions. In the Bible, death is the enemy of God and humanity, and in the end, death will be defeated.

In treating the Old Testament, he argues that God created humans to live, but the fall introduces death. Beginning with this observation, Brannon tracks an unfolding promise in the Pentateuch and historical books that God will “crush the head of the serpent.” There is not much in the historical books, so he moves on to the poetry books, including Job 19:25-27, the Psalms, Isaiah 25:6-8, the Servant Songs, and Ezekiel’s Valley of the Dry Bones. He finishes Daniel 12:1-3 (the only passage usually cited as implying resurrection in the Old Testament).

The trouble with many of these examples is separating national resurrection from personal bodily resurrection. He admits that “at face value, it does not seem reasonable Ezekiel has in mind a future bodily resurrection” (86, note 17). Nevertheless, he sees Ezekiel’s vision as a national and spiritual resurrection metaphor. Brannon does this by connecting the Dry Bones vision to Ezekiel 36-37 and then connecting that passage to new creation language. For Brannon, new creation includes the physical resurrection (82). All kingdom language fulfills the “crushing of the head.”

There is a methodological flaw built into biblical theology studies like the ESBT. In this case, by limiting the study to the biblical canon, Brannon misses the development of Jewish eschatological resurrection through the Intertestamental period. There is a great deal of development of resurrection theology between Daniel 12:1-3 and the New Testament. He is clearly aware of this data since he cites N. T. Wright’s Resurrection of the Son of God extensively. Still, the constraints of the series prevent any examination of Apocrypha and pseudepigrapha in this study.

After surveying the Old Testament data, chapters 6-7 move into Jesus’s life, ministry, and death. Following N. T. Wright, Brannon argues that the resurrection is a vindication of the son of God and proof that Jesus was, in fact, the Messiah. Using Pauline language, Jesus’s resurrection demonstrates that he is the second Adam (Romans 5:12-21; 1 Corinthians 15:21-22). The ascension is the enthronement of Jesus as the Messiah when he begins his rule from God’s throne (Psalm 2).

Chapter 8 discusses the church as the resurrected people of God, already participating in an eschatological life. Yet that life is still yet to be consummated even though the new age of the Spirit has already begun.  Chapter 9 develops the “not-yet” aspect of the resurrection. Reading Revelation 20 as an amillennialist (149 note 4), Brannon sees this chapter as a picture of believers in the intermediate state. The final resurrection is a bodily resurrection to the eternal state (the new creation). As a fulfillment of Genesis 1:28, believers live in the new creation in real, spiritual bodies. Jesus’s body is the pattern: he had a real body, spiritual and incorruptible.

Here is a completely non-academic observation about Brannon’s book. He uses song quotes at the beginning of his chapters, starting with Buddy and Julie Miller in the introduction, and even Steve Winwood makes an appearance. I am not sure you will ever read this, Jeff, but you have great taste in music!

Conclusion: The Hope of Life After Death is an excellent introduction to the doctrine of bodily resurrection. The book is written with the layperson in mind. There is minimal technical language, and Brannon always keeps the application of resurrection theology in mind.

 

Other reviewed commentaries in Essentials of Biblical Theology series:

 

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

 

 

 

Edward W. Klink III, The Beginning and End of All Things: A Biblical Theology of Creation and New Creation

Klink III, Edward W. The Beginning and End of All Things: A Biblical Theology of Creation and New Creation. ESBT; IVP Academic, 2023. Xi+203 pp. Pb. $24.00   Link to IVP Academic  

After ten years as an associate professor at Talbot School of Theology, Biola University, Edward Klink now serves as senior pastor of Hope Evangelical Free Church in Roscoe, Illinois. He previously published Understanding Biblical Theology: A Comparison of Theory and Practice (with Darian Lockett, Zondervan, 2012) and the Zondervan Exegetical Commentary on John. This new contribution to IVP Academic’s Essential Studies in Biblical Theology series focuses on creation as the overarching theme for the canon of Scripture.  Biblical Theology of Creation

In the introduction to the book, Klink explains that, because of his involvement in the Creation Project, he realized that creation is more than just about origins, and he was finally able to “unchain” creation from the origins debate. He argues in this book that the whole of Scripture can be considered the story of God’s creation project.

He outlines the story of the whole canon of scripture as “creation, redemption, and new creation.” New creation is the goal (telos) of God’s creation project. Notice he has omitted “fall” from this familiar outline. Klink argues that redemption is God’s provision for his creation in Jesus Christ rather than a response to the fall; the cross is not Plan B. “God’s creation project assumed from the very start that the first Adam required the second Adam” (15). Since Adam failed, Israel took up the role of prophet, priest, and king from Adam. Jesus takes up Isarel’s role and fulfills God’s plan (Klink says Romans 5 makes this clear; but does it?)

He blames medieval imagery of heaven and hell (which led to a theology that looked forward to “going to heaven when we die”) and “Left Behind” theology (which makes the goal of the Christian life “going to heaven while the world burns”) for undermining a proper biblical theology of creation. It is possible to add “creation science” as a third contributor to the narrowing of creation to only origins. For Klink, a deficient biblical theology of creation results in a natural division between spiritual and material realities. The spiritual is good, while the material is bad. But, Klink says, “The creator is also the Redeemer!” (9). A deficient biblical theology of creation sees only spiritual things as good. Anything done for the material world is unimportant. As a result, our Christian responsibility toward this world is diminished. (How many conservative Christian environmentalists are there?) Finally, due to their stunted biblical theology of creation, Christians abandon culture.

“Creation is the story of the Bible” (12). Klink begins with the now ubiquitous idea that creation is God’s cosmic temple. Following Greg Beale, he explains that Eden is a sanctuary in which God is present. Humans were intended to be God’s prophets, priests, and kings. All satisfaction and abundance of life flow from God from this garden sanctuary. He concludes that when the Bible speaks about creation, it refers not just to the beginning of the world but also to the purpose of the world (17). The culmination of the creation project is the New Creation (Revelation 21-22). There is a new garden-shaped temple where God dwells so that “the earth is full of his glory” (Isa 6:3).

Klink makes extensive use of covenant language. For example, he says, “Before God commands creation into its proper form (Gen 1:3), he holds a ceremony of sorts that makes a declaration that will extend throughout scripture and the history of the world” (25).  From this assumption, he says there are three covenantal claims about creation implied in the Genesis creation story: God’s presence over creation, God’s power over creation, and God’s pattern for creation (27-28).

Like other popular books on biblical theology, he leans heavily on temple language for Eden. Here is his following Greg Beale and John Walton. Klink also uses a typology of “prophet, priest, and king,” initially found in Genesis 1:26-31, but also in the history of Israel, the ministry of Jesus, and the church’s commission for the present age. This is similar to Ben Gladd’s initial volume of the ESBT series.

Here is one example of how a biblical theology of creation is developed. In Chapter 9 (“Creation’s Commission”), it is not surprising that the Great Commission is the priority (139). But the subtitle for the section is the” Cultivation of Creation.” Looking back to the creation story, the image bearers, now the church, are “to extend God’s temple to the ends of the earth.” This resonates with Adam’s Commission in Genesis 1:28. Looking forward, Klink says, “The church has been formed as a foretaste of the new creation” (142). Klink connects the mountain in Matthew 28:18-20 to Sinai. It was at Mount Sinai that the people of God consummated their relationship with God, developing the Adam typology of prophet priest and king for the nation of Israel. Now at a new mountain, God’s people are given the same commission as Adam, Israel, and Jesus. He also considers the reference to heaven and earth in Matthew 28:18 as an allusion to the creation story. “Baptizing” orients the sons of Adam to their creator, the second Adam. “Instructing “is how the church reflects the creator in Word indeed. God has formalized the church to manage God’s covenant and mediate his kingship as the recreated humanity of the second Adam. This is a fair point and could be improved by observing Paul’s description of the church as the body of Christ functioning in the world to continue Jesus’s ministry.

Klink indicates that one goal of the book is to serve both the academy and the church. His pastoral side is clear from his friendly introductions and conclusions to chapters and his frequent use of alliteration throughout the book. Chapters often read like short sermons. This is certainly a scholarly book, but it is clear that Klink has a pastor’s heart.

Given the introduction to this biblical theology of creation, I expected a call for Christians to be more involved in contemporary culture (environmentalism, social justice, the arts, etc.). There are two pages in the final chapter (“pastoral reflections”) on creation and culture. Given the Calvinist worldview lurking in the background of the book, I expected some reference to Abraham Kuyper or Christ and Culture. Other than a brief reference to Moo and White, Let Creation Rejoice: Biblical Hope and Ecological Crisis (IVP Academic 2014), I do not see much in this biblical theology of creation that calls Christians to care for the material world. This is likely my own interests coming through. This criticism does not detract from the value of the book.

Conclusion: The Beginning and End of All Things is a well-written book that explains many common elements popular in evangelical biblical theology today and integrates them into the overall story of Scripture. The book will appeal to laypersons and students who want a primer for canonical, biblical theology.

Other reviewed commentaries in Essentials of Biblical Theology series:

 

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

 

Michael J. Ovey, The Feasts of Repentance

Ovey, Michael J. The Feasts of Repentance: From Luke-Acts to Systematic and Pastoral Theology. NSBT 49; Downers Grove, Ill.: IVP Academic, 2019. 173 pp. Pb; $25.  Link to IVP Academic

Michael J. Ovey (1958–2017) served as the principal of Oak Hill College, London, from 2007 until his death. He delivered an early version of this book at the annual Moore Theological College lectures and continued editing the book until his sudden death in 2017.

Ovey argues repentance is a critical element of the proclamation of the gospel, and it is too often overlooked in modern preaching. His theological context is global Anglicanism, but a lack of emphasis on repentance is certainly true for most forms of Christianity. He cites N. T. Wright, who defines the Gospel as the proclamation of Jesus as Lord. This stands in contrast to John Calvin, who held the sum of the gospel comprises repentance and forgiveness of sin (2). More than this, how does repentance work for post-conversion Christian life? For many, an emphasis on living a repentant life leads to a joyless, guilt-ridden Christian life.

RepentanceThis book moves from a biblical theology of repentance (as demonstrated in Like-Acts) to systematic theology (is repentance a necessary component of salvation?) to pastoral theology (is repentance a necessary component of the Christian life?) For Ovey, repentance is a formal necessity and not a “optional extra.”

The biblical theology section (chs. 2-3) examines the preaching of John the Baptist, followed by several examples of Jesus’s feasting with sinners (hence the title of the book). He briefly touches on the repentant thief and the important summary of the gospel and conclusion to the book of Luke in 24:46-48. Luke includes “repentance for the forgiveness of sins” at the heart of Jesus’s post resurrection instruction on what the scriptures said. Repentance is clear in apostolic preaching to both Jews and Gentiles and Paul’s understanding of his own mission. Luke universalizes repentance. Everyone needs to repent of sin before receiving forgiveness.

Chapters 4-6 move into systematic theology. What is the relationship between faith and repentance in the ordo salutus (order of salvation)? For Ovey, if a call to faith omits repentance, it is a defective faith (130). “Repentance, apart from anything else, is needed to Orient us in relationship to the claims of Christ” (130). In Acts especially, Paul calls on gentiles to repent specifically from the sin of idolatry. Ovey defines idolatry “as a perversion or distortion of the relation that exists between creature and creator” (75). Idolatry is a parody of the real relationship humans ought to have with God. In fact, Ovey suggests idolatry is not just one sin among many, but rather it is the sin.

Chapter 7 moves to pastoral theology. If the biblical material universalizes repentance and systematic theology shows it is necessary for genuine faith, what about the unrepentant? Here, he examines two examples from Luke’s gospel. First, the Pharisees are self-righteous and prideful, both in their relationship to God and to each other. They simply do not need to repent. But Jesus sometimes refers to them as hypocrites. A hypocrite knows the truth but is self-deceived. Still, there is no need for repentance. The repentant, on the other hand, demonstrate humility toward God and that leads to repentance. Ovey uses the contrast between the two sons in Luke 15. He draws a connection between forgiveness and justice. There is an obligation for those who repent to show mercy towards those who have not yet repented (Luk6 6:36; 11:4; 17:3-4). Ovey points out how countercultural this is in a (modern) rights-based culture (154). We want our rights vindicated! An obligation to forgive involves a preparedness and willingness to forgive others and demands we forego what we deserve.

Conclusion. Ovey is correct. There is a lack of interest in repentance in modern preaching. Ovey is not interested in this book on the cultural factors, and he is writing from a different perspective than mine. Although it is certainly true modern evangelicals have trouble identifying their own sin and need for repentance, they seem to have little trouble in identifying when other people need to repent! Ovey’s description of the Pharisees is appropriate here. This book is therefore a valuable contribution to an overlooked yet important theological and biblical teaching of Scripture.

 

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

Samuel Emadi, From Prisoner to Prince: The Joseph Story in Biblical Theology

Emadi, Samuel. From Prisoner to Prince: The Joseph Story in Biblical Theology. NSBT 59; Downers Grove, Ill.: IVP Academic, 2022. 188 pp. Pb; $24.  Link to IVP Academic

Samuel Emadi (PhD, The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary) serves as the senior pastor at Hunsinger Lane Baptist Church in Louisville, Kentucky and is an editor at 9Marks. This book is based on his dissertation, “Covenant, Typology, and the Story of Joseph: A Literary-Canonical Examination of Genesis 37-50” (2016) under the supervision of James Hamilton.  Hamilton wrote an article, “Was Joseph a Type of the Messiah? Tracing the Typological Identification between Joseph, David, and Jesus,” SBJT 12.4 (2008).

The story of Joseph is the climax of Genesis, yet Joseph is hardly mentioned in the rest of Scripture. Many Christians have turned toward typology as a plausible answer: Joseph “a type of the Messiah.” But virtually all studies which claim Joseph is a type of Christ lack methodological rigor. Emadi argues in this book that Joseph “passes the typological test” (3). He says, “Moses links the story of Joseph to the eschatological expectations established in Genesis (such as royal seed) and specifically to the hope of an eschatological king” (4).

Joseph Type of ChristKing and (royal) seed are the two key themes for Emadi’s argument. In order to make this work, he has to argue that kingship is an essential element in the Abrahamic covenant and that Joseph was instrumental to the fulfillment of the Abrahamic seed and land promise. To begin, he follows T. Desmond Alexander’s argument that Adam was given a royal and priestly commission in Genesis 2. This royal priesthood has an eschatological character, after Adam’s failure, genesis develops a hope for a royal restoration genesis 3: 15, and there are several royal- seed promises typologically fulfilled through characters who emerge as “new Adams” (46-47). He then traces how genesis develops Joseph as Abraham’s royal seed. He argues genesis regularly describes Joseph with royal imagery and at least foreshadow his future royal position. “Although Joseph may not have been a king, Moses describes him with royal attributes” (55).

Important to his argument that Joseph’s story ought to be read typologically is Jacob’s prophecy in Genesis 49:8-10. This passage does indeed connect a son of Jacob to the future royal line, but it is “Judah’s son who will be a Joseph redivivus” (63). Using what he calls inner Bible biblical exegesis in numbers 24, he argues Balaam’s prophecy identifies the king of Genesis 49:8-12 with the “enigmatic serpent-crushing seed of Genesis 3:15,” a person who “embodies the Abrahamic covenant who will conquer Israel’s enemies “making the people of God an Edenic paradise” (63-64).

The next section of the book traces Joseph through the rest of the biblical canon. First, chapter 7 surveys the nine other occurrences of the story in the rest of the Old Testament. Exodus only mentions since the people of Israel bought the brought the bones of Moses up out of Egypt when they left. Psalm 105:17-25 briefly summarizes Joseph’s story. To develop additional allusions to the Joseph story, he draws the parallel between Joseph and Daniel. Although he avoids describing Joseph and Daniel as the genre of “court tale” or wisdom literature. Daniel is an example of an exalted Jew in a foreign court, such as Nehemiah, Mordechai or Esther. James Hamilton made a similar argument in With the Clouds of Heaven (IVP Academic, 2014, reviewed here).

Chapter 8 deals with the two passages that mention Joseph in the New Testament: Acts 7:7-16 and Hebrews 11:21. For Emadi, Stephen’s speech in Acts 7, Joseph’s story is “not part of Israel’s story, in some sense it is Israel’s story” (133). He claims Stephen sees Joseph as a type of Christ” (133) and the Apostolic community “interpreted Joseph’s narrative as a miniature betrayal of Israel’s history, culminating in the rejection of Jesus. They saw “in Joseph a prophetic forecasting of the life of the Messiah” (137). This is a minority opinion among interpreters of the book of Acts and seems tangential to the argument of Stephen’s speech.

Although there are several remotely possible allusions to Joseph suggested by scholars in the New Testament, Emadi limits his discussion to the most probable, the Parable of the Tenants (examining the form found in Matthew 21:33-46). He argues this parable is a creative retelling of Israel’s history in order to undermine the present leadership’s understanding of their national identity. Emadi properly recognizes Isaiah 5 as the main Old Testament background. He also understands the citation of Psalm 118:22-23 as a celebration of God’s deliverance of his people from foreign oppressors. However, he does not examine Rabbinic parallels to this parable (see, for example Craig Evans, Mark 8:27-16:20 in the WBC series) or the word play using the Aramaic of stone/son as a reference to David as the stone the builders rejected. The original son that was rejected was David. Jesus is the son of David who is about to be killed outside the city.

Emadi’s focus is on the phrase “he sent his son” (ἀπέστειλεν πρὸς αὐτοὺς τὸν υἱὸν αὐτοῦ in Matt 21:37; but ἀποστείλω σε πρὸς αὐτούς in Gen 37:13, compare LXX Psalm 104:16: ἀπέστειλεν ἔμπροσθεν αὐτῶν ἄνθρωπον). In Genesis 37:13, Jacob sent his son Joseph to his brothers, and he suffered because of their jealousy. The son in the parable likewise suffers because of the jealousy of the tenants. He therefore makes the connection between Jesus and Joseph. Emadi concludes: “Jesus is, in fact, suggesting a typological reading of the Joseph story” (144). Maybe. A serious problem is the lack of verbal parallels between the parable and the LXX version of the Joseph story. It is close, but is it close enough to establish an allusion? I am thinking here of Richard Hays’s criteria for detecting allusions. In addition, there are other (more likely) readings of the Parable of the Tenants which do not interpret the son as an allusion to Joseph. The parable and the citation of Psalm 118 see clear, the son is Jesus! To find an allusion to Genesis 37 seems less like typology and more like allegorizing.

The argument could be improved with some attention to the intertestamental literature. For example, the book of Joseph and Asenath answers many questions Second Temple. Judaism had about Joseph’s time in Egypt, and in this Jewish romance novel an author describes Joseph in language which led David Aune to suggest the description of Christ in Revelation 1 alludes to Joseph and Asenath (Aune, Revelation 1-5, 72). The account of Asenath’s conversion is rich with possible messianic allusions. This Jewish text provides a data point on which a trajectory might be traced from a canonical Joseph story to a Jewish messianic interpretation. This is not typology, however, and may be the reason the intertestamental literature does not appear in this study. So too the Testament of Joseph, which does describe Joseph as a protomartyr, a book “of interest for the early church, since Joseph goes joyfully to his persecution and possible martyrdom. Joseph is a model of how to be a good Christian martyr.”

Conclusion. If you like typology, then you will love this book. Emadi is correct, popular preaching employs typology indiscriminately and does not have any methodological rigor. And Emadi is correct, Joseph “is an example of faith in covenantal promises in the face of death” (121) and “a faith worthy of imitation” (145). But this does not mean the author of Genesis intentionally foreshadowed the messiah in Genesis 37-50. It might be the case that authorial intention is not an important part of a typological method.

 

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