Book Review

Michael H. Burer, Galatians (EEC)

Burer, Michael H. Galatians. Evangelical Exegetical Commentary. Bellingham, Wash.: Lexham Press, 2024. xxii+575 pp.; Hb.; $69.99. Link to Lexham Press

Michael H. Burer serves as dean of faculty development and professor of New Testament studies at Dallas Theological Seminary. He previously published A New Reader’s Lexicon of the Greek New Testament (with Jeffrey E. Miller; Kregel Academic, 2012) and Divine Sabbath Work (Eisenbrauns, 2012). He was an editor and assistant project director for the NET Bible and edited John Glynn’s Best Bible Books (Kregel 2018, reviewed here). This new addition to the Evangelical Exegetical commentary joins recent Galatians commentaries by David deSilva (Eerdmans, 2018, reviewed here) and Craig Keener (Baker Academic, 2019).

EEC Galatians Commentary

The commentary begins with a twenty-one-page introduction. This seems brief, especially considering this includes an outline of the book and major commentaries. For comparison, Keener’s introduction is forty-five pages, and deSilva’s is one hundred-eight. The rest of the book is about the same length as these recent major commentaries. There is little doubt that Paul is the original author, and this news is never seriously challenged. Unlike authorship, there is more controversy concerning the recipients, date, and relationship to the Book of Acts. After surveying the options, he concludes that Acts 11:27-30 is the meeting described in Galatians 2:1-10. (See this post for my views on Galatians and Acts.)This meeting sets in motion the tensions that culminated in the Jerusalem conference. In the book of Galatians, these tensions are not yet settled. Burer prefers the South Galatians theory, so Galatians is written on the eve of the Jerusalem Council, approximately A.D. 49. The recipients are the churches Paul established on his first missionary journey, the city and Antioch, Iconium, Lystra, and Debre. “the bubbling tension surrounding full gentile inclusion in the people of God on no bases other than faith forces Paul to write these churches to clarify what he preached to them before and it’s outworking in their relationships” (9).

Burer argues the opponents are Jewish Christians who visited Paul’s churches to correct his claim that Gentiles were saved by faith. Instead, they insisted Gentiles must join the people of God, starting with circumcision as a sign of obedience to the Mosaic Law. Who were these opponents? Paul does not identify them by name, nor does he systematically detail their preaching. After serving all the references in Galatians, Burer concludes that Paul thinks the opponents are “hypocritical charlatans” with self-serving motives (13). They want to avoid persecution because of the cross. Older commentaries call the opponents “Judaizers,” but for Burer, this is too simplistic, as if they want to convert Gentiles to Judaism. The opponents are within the social circles of Jewish Christianity. For Burer, they may not be Christians, based on Paul’s strong condemnation (calling them false brothers, etc.). He does point out that the false brothers in Jerusalem may not be the same as the opponents in Galatians, but they share the same theology. They used their association with James to sneak into meetings in Jerusalem. He stops short of connecting the opponents with James, the Lord’s Brother, or the Jerusalem church. After all, Jerusalem acknowledged Paul’s gospel and did not require Titus to be circumcised (Gal 2:1-10, p. 103).

He briefly comments on the relationship between Galatians and Romans. Since Paul wrote Galatians first to address a specific situation, it is better to interpret the later work (Romans) in the light of the former (Galatians). He recognizes there are clear connections and several nuanced differences. In the commentary, he attempts to bracket out his understanding of Romans as much as possible to focus on the text of Galatians. For example, commenting on Galatians 2:15–21, he recognizes that there are clear parallels with Romans, but he does not investigate those parallels to interpret Galatians (170).

The introduction concludes with an exegetical and theological overview. “What has impressed me throughout the writing of this commentary is the intensely pastoral nature of Paul’s interaction with the Galatian congregations (16). The book is personal and practical for the original readers. There are real-world effects on the lives of the people in Galatia if they accept the teachings of the opponents. Certainly, this includes the unity of the church but also physical changes in their bodies (circumcision). “Galatians is in no way a dispassionate discourse on disconnected theological issues” (17). The book is an exegetical, theological defense of Paul’s gospel.

Each unit of the commentary begins with textual notes. He treats major textual variants, perhaps in more detail than usual in most commentaries. This is followed by the author’s English translation and commentary on the Greek text. Greek appears without transliteration. He moves through the text, commenting on words and phrases. He uses extensive footnotes to interact with secondary literature, although major commentaries are cited in-text. Footnotes often point to lexical and syntactical resources. Following his detailed commentary is a brief section of theological comments. Here, Burer often comments on the implications of his exegesis and how contemporary New Testament scholars work with the text. This is followed by a section entitled Application and Devotional Implications. Although this is not a homiletical or devotional commentary, he does try to draw appropriate applications to contemporary church life. Each section is concluded by additional comments, often commenting on an academic article on a finer point in the text. The section concludes with a selected bibliography for that prey. However, not all the key literature in the section is included in this bibliography. For example, in Galatians 2:11-14, he includes Cohn-Sherbok’s article responding to James Dunn but not Dunn’s article (which is cited in the chapter).

As expected in a Galatians commentary, Burer engages with the New Perspective on Paul where appropriate in the commentary. This is especially true for Galatians 2:15–21, something of ground zero for the New Perspective. In fact, this section has several lengthy excurses. The first is on Paul’s use of Psalm 143:2. Second, Burer examines Paul’s use of δικ- word group in Galatians, emphasizing how the New Perspective on Paul has changed contemporary scholarship thinking about this important word. Here, he comments on both James Dunn and N. T. Wright. In a potential understatement, Burer suggests that “the extent and depth of rights argument defies simple summary” (208). Paul used the δικ- word group because he was interested in an individual’s legal status before God (the old perspective), and he was also interested in much more: a community delineated by faith in the Messiah (the new perspective) (208). Although this sounds like he is trying to have his theological cake and eat it too, Burer more regularly sides with the traditional view of Paul against the New Perspective. But this is far from a polemic. His comments often seek to find the best of both views.

The third excurses in this section deals with Paul’s use of the πίστ- word group in Galatians. Fourth, he treats Paul’s use of the phrase “works of the Law.” The New Perspective argues that Paul does not have in mind the entire Mosaic Law, but only the “boundary markers” (circumcision, food, laws, sabbath). Burer concludes that Paul uses the phrase for the whole Torah (the traditional view). Fifth, Burer deals with the difficult exegetical problem in Galatians 2:16, διὰ πίστεως Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ (usually reduced to πίστις Χριστοῦ, pistis Christou). Briefly, did Paul intend the genitive case (Christou) to refer to the faithful act of Jesus Christ on the cross (subjective genitive) or to Jesus as the object of one’s faith (objective genitive)? (See this post commenting on the phrase in Romans 3:21-26.) This is an extremely troublesome topic, which is generated many articles and at least one lengthy monograph, The Faith of Jesus Christ: Exegetical, Biblical, and Theological Studies (Hendrickson, 2010; edited by Michael F. Bird and Preston M. Sprinkle). Burer lists briefly eighteen points in favor of the objective genitive and fifteen points in favor of the subjective genitive. He concludes that the phrase refers to “Faith directed at Christ,” the traditional view (220). In his view, Paul refers to humanity’s responsive faith directed toward Christ alone as the basis for a declaration of justification.

Conclusion. Michael Burer has made an excellent contribution to the study of Galatians. This commentary stands alongside other recent major commentaries from Keener and deSilva.

Bonus: Read an interview with Burer and Garrett on the Lexham Press blog.

Review of other commentaries in this series:

 

NB: Thanks to Lexham Press for kindly providing me with a review copy of this book, both in print and Logos format. This did not influence my thoughts regarding the work.

 

Joshua E. Williams and Calvin F. Pearson, 1-2 Chronicles (Kerux)

Williams, Joshua E., and Calvin F. Pearson. 1-2 Chronicles. A Commentary for Biblical Preaching and Teaching. Kerux Commentaries. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Kregel Ministry, 2024. 574 pp. Hb. $41.99   Link to Kregel Ministry  

Joshua Williams is associate professor of Old Testament in the School of Theology at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. He served as assistant editor of the Southwestern Journal of Theology from 2007 to 2016. Calvin F. Pearson (PhD, University of Texas at Arlington) is a retired pastor who taught homiletics at Dallas Theological Seminary, Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, Clamp Divinity School at Anderson University, and Grace School of Theology. He previously contributed the preaching section for the Kerux volume on Jeremiah (with Duane Garrett, Kregel 2022, reviewed here).

Kerux 1-2 Chronicles

Kregel’s Kerux commentary series blends exegetical commentary with extensive preaching help. This approach is evident in the new volume on 1-2 Chronicles, a book rarely preached in most churches. The authors divide the two books into thirty-five preaching units in three major categories). These preaching units are summarized at the beginning of the commentary (pages 13-31) and repeated in each chapter of the commentary. These summaries include an exegetical idea, theological focus, preaching idea, and preaching pointers for each unit.

In the brief twelve-page introduction, Williams acknowledges that the book is anonymous. Despite the tradition that Ezra was the author, he concludes that the evidence points to another author, usually referred to as “the Chronicler” (38). Chronicles is a complex piece of literature that uses Samuel, Kings, and several Psalms. However, in the body of the commentary, Williams is not interested in tracing out what the Chronicler’s sources may have been. He dates the book to the post-exilic period. Since the book shows no signs of Greek influence, it was likely completed in the late Persian period, possibly as late as 350 BC. Williams briefly outlines the historical setting (how Israel came to be in exile and their return). Several generations have passed since the temple was rebuilt, so the Chronicler wants to remind his readers that God did not abandon his covenant people in exile. He wants to remind the community that they still have a responsibility toward YHWH in worship (42). Therefore, 1-2 Chronicles is a “prophetic histography,” a theological history that points to the future and contains a call to action. Like the prophets, the book calls on its readers to worship YHWH properly and exclusively (43).

The commentary centers on four interrelated theological themes: covenant, cult (worship), kingdom, and community (a preacher’s alliteration?) Consistent with the rest of the Old Testament, Israel is in a covenant relationship with YHWH. The covenant promises blessing for the obedient and punishment for the disobedient. The Chronicler ultimately applies this theology of retribution to Israel after the exile. YHWH remembered his covenant and called his people to rebuild his temple in Jerusalem. Jerusalem is the exclusive place to worship YHWH alone, and Moses is the law that sets the standard for evaluating that worship. The king’s primary task is to unify Israel’s worship in the Jerusalem Temple (46). Kings are evaluated by how they treat the temple. So, what sort of a community is Israel now after the exile? The Chronicler addresses this post-exilic identity crisis by showing that all of Israel was and still is God’s covenant people, even the northern tribes.

William’s exposition of the Hebrew text is clear and concise. Given the size of 1-2 chronicles, he necessarily treats paragraphs. He deals with Hebrew technical matters in sidebars or “translation analysis.” Hebrew appears untransliterated. The commentary body is very readable and demonstrates exegetical skill, yet it is still focused on preaching and teaching the text in a church context. Certainly, Williams has utilized the best commentaries, but the main body of the commentary is uncluttered by references to secondary literature.

Pearson’s preaching strategies are rich in illustrations, although they are not as contemporary as other volumes in this series. (there are no Lord of the Rings or MCU analogies!) His goal is to put things in New Testament terms, bridging the gap between the text of chronicles and contemporary culture. The preaching sections conclude with a suggested sermon outline and a few discussion questions that should be helpful for preachers and teachers.

Most of 1-2 Chronicles is narrative and lends itself to the pulpit. But how does someone preach from 1 Chronicles 1-9? Most pastors would not attempt to preach the genealogies, starting a series on Chronicles with chapter 10. This is perhaps a wise strategy. Williams does not attempt a complete exegesis of the genealogies (it is unnecessary for the most part). Instead, he makes a few general comments and addresses any anomalies. For example, why are there no genealogies for the tribes of Zebulon or Dan? He suggests this may be due to the misidentification of Dan’s genealogy as Benjamin’s in 7:1-12. Benjamin has a lengthy genealogy in 8:1-39. However, there is no textual evidence for this.

The theological focus of the genealogies is that the Lord rules over all the nations and Israel (73). Pearson suggests a preaching strategy from this: “What defines you is God’s choice and expectation” (75). He suggests we need to hear the genealogies, as did the returning exiles: The crisis of the exile did not define Israel. Pearson suggests that only selected verses need to be read. In fact, a few short narratives in the genealogies illustrate the themes of Chronicles. Unsurprisingly, the “Prayer of Jabez” is one of these units (1 Chron 4:9-10). Very practically, he suggests practicing pronouncing names before preaching. He says that if you stumble over a name, it makes that person seem less useful.

This is an excellent strategy for teaching through the first nine chapters of 1-2 Chronicles. What I did not find helpful are the three-quarter-column reproductions of the twelve patriarchs by Spanish artist Francisco de Zurbarán. These are good if you are interested in seventeenth-century clothing styles but add nothing to understanding the genealogies in 1 Chronicle 1-9. The space would have been better for a summary chart or additional detailed exegesis.

A commentary on 1-2 Chronicles can focus on differences from Samuel-Kings, whether historical or theological. Williams does not do this. His focus is solely on Chronicles. He does not use Samuel-kings to fill out the story and is not interested in how Chronicles used sources (or even if there are sources). For example, who tests David when he takes the census in 2 Samuel 25 and 1 Chronicles 21:1– 22:1? Is it God or Satan? The difference may be theologically significant (see Ralph Klein’s Chronicles commentary in the Herminia series). Although he briefly comments on the differences in the census numbers, Williams does not compare the two stories to explain developments in early Jewish theology. The story is part of the Chronicler’s theme of proper worship centered on the Temple in Jerusalem since the story ultimately explains the location of Solomon’s Temple.

Conclusion: Few pastors or teachers have a good 1-2 Chronicles commentary on their shelf, and few will devote a sermon series or Sunday School class to these neglected books. Williams and Pearson succeed in illuminating the biblical text and providing insights that will enhance the presentation of these books.

For a more detailed exegetical commentary from a conservative perspective, see my review of Eugene Merrill’s contribution to the Kregel Exegetical Library. If you are interested in a detailed academic introduction to Chronicles and the study of the genealogies in chapters 1-9, see Gary Knoppers, I Chronicles 1-9 in the Anchor Bible series (Yale, 2004).

NB: I used YHWH for the name of God since Williams uses it in this commentary. 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:

 

 

Duane A. Garrett, Job (EEC)

Garrett, Duane A. Job. Evangelical Exegetical Commentary. Bellingham, Wash.: Lexham Press, 2024. xvii+673 pp.; Hb.; $69.99. Link to Lexham Press

Duane A. Garrett is the John R. Sampey Professor of Old Testament Interpretation and professor of biblical theology at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. Garrett is known for his work in Wisdom Literature (Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs in the NAC series; Song of Songs and Lamentations in the WBC) and the prophets (Hosea and Joel volume in the NAC series, Baylor Handbook on the Hebrew Text of Amos, and Jeremiah and Lamentations in the Kerux series, reviewed here). Garrett wrote A Modern Grammar for Classical Hebrew (B&H, 2002). He recently published a commentary on Exodus (KEL, Kregel Academic, 2014, reviewed here). Garrett’s The Problem of the Old Testament: Hermeneutical, Schematic, and Theological Approaches (IVP Academic 2020) is essential reading for a Christian approach to the Old Testament. His new commentary on Job in the Evangelical Exegetical Commentary is a highly anticipated contribution to the study of the Hebrew text of Job.

Job Commentary

In his fifty-four-page introduction, Garrett observes that Job is anonymous. There is no single Jewish tradition for authorship, and dates range from Abraham’s time to the Hellenistic era. “Evangelical scholarship has abandoned a pre-Israelite date for the book’s composition” (4). Linguistic data does not help much since both Aramaic and Ugaritic parallels are inconclusive. Historical, geographical, and ethnic data lean toward a neo-Babylon. More helpful is the theology of the book, such as the reference to Satan in the prologue. Since the only other use of the word Satan is in Chronicles, the word implied a postexilic date. Intertextuality may help since many scholars detect illusions to Psalms, Ezekiel, Isaiah, and Jeremiah. But Garrett suggests Job shares a common way of speaking with the Hebrew Bible. There are words, concepts, and even phrases that appear without applying literary dependence. Garrett surveys a long list of possible allusions and then narrows his list of suggested textual connections to just a few possible literary illusions, such as the creation story and Job 7: in the body of the commentary, he argues that this passage is a parody of Psalm 8:4–8 and was therefore written after it (14).

Garrett concludes, “The audacious theological stands taken by Job is more likely to be from a time of theological boldness” (14). It is not like Sirach, for example. “Job is not like Second Temple era wisdom” because it questions the life described by Proverbs, a life embraced by Sirach. This becomes clearer when one observes the structure of the entire book. Garrett suggests a chiastic structure for Job, with the wisdom poem (Job 28) in the center, framed by the first cycle of speeches and Elihu and God’s speeches. Garrett explains that Job 28 is an “axiomatic poem on wisdom.” No one, regardless of effort, can find wisdom. There is no real connection to the rest of the book, but it is between the two speeches. The Wisdom poem cannot come from Elihu (as is sometimes suggested) since he is too short of his own wisdom to account for the speech. In fact, Job 28 is the voice of the narrator. Therefore, he suggests that the author more likely lived in Israel’s golden age, the reign of Solomon. He does not conclude whether there was a real, historical Job (42).

Garrett is not interested in complicated compositional history of Job’s text, nor does he think there are misplaced or missing sections. “The case for subjecting Job to such radical surgery is not compelling” (18). The key for Garrett is placing Job 28 in the center of the book. It is the product of an omniscient narrator, foreshadowing God’s speeches. He suggests it is pretense to think that one has discovered the true compositional history of Job or a pre-canonical arrangement that makes better sense than the canonical Job (20). He also surveys ancient eastern parallels to Job with brief summaries of each. “It is all but certain that the author of Job was aware of this literary tradition,” but he acknowledges that “differences are great” (22).

With respect to genre, Garrett recognizes Job as wisdom literature and points out that it is “something of a literary tour de force” (24). The book includes lamentation, hymn, proverb, prophetic, inspiration, wisdom poem, numerical sayings, reflective questioning, concealed catalog, and a trial motif (25). The poetry and rhetoric of the book are of the “highest order of sophistication” (25). Garrett suggests that Job has similarities to biblical apocalyptic. He argues that this will help clarify the meaning and purpose of the book (26). To support this assertion, surveys eleven characteristics of apocalyptic and draws parallels with the book of Job. For example, apocalyptic often includes “cosmic conflict” to describe conditions on earth. This is obvious from the prologue: spiritual powers are behind Job’s affliction. He considers Job “the apocalypse of wisdom” (30). It is certainly true that apocalyptic and wisdom literature often overlap. Garrett argues that recognizing this overlap will help interpret the Book of Job.

Job is a debate, but it is a most peculiar debate for modern readers. The participants do not engage with each other’s views. Rather, they recite conventional wisdom and traditional proverbs to win over their dialogue partners. What is this debate about? Garrett surveys a “plethora of interpretations,” including medieval Jewish commentaries and modern critical and evangelical scholarship. Garrett agrees with the common suggestion that the Job is theodicy. The question the book addresses is God just in his governance of the world” (40). The doctrine of retribution is at the center of all four men’s theology. Even Job believes God is just, rewarding the righteous and punishing evil. The wisdom Paul and Job 28 is the key: humans cannot obtain wisdom, so they need to trust God and accept that there is a divine plan beyond their grasp (49). What Elihu has to say is superfluous (44). He does not add any substance to the conversation. He only echoes what the other three have already said. Garrett calls this a “massive, meandering speech;” if the speech were dropped, Job would still be an unusually long and difficult book (44). For Garrett, Elihu represents the reader, using Job’s words, looking for blasphemy and theological error (45).

God’s speech surprises everyone. He never accuses Job of sin (since Job did not sin, nor is he being punished). Job never gets a good reason for his suffering. “The speech is both peculiar and jolting,” almost as though “God is browbeating Job” (45). God knows what he is doing, running the world, even if Job does not understand what he has experienced. The greatest wisdom is continuing to trust God.

For most readers, the most perplexing part of God’s speeches are references to Behemoth and Leviathan. Garrett argues that these two strange creatures are composite beasts and symbolic. They are not literal animals (528). They are certainly not a hippopotamus and a crocodile, suggested by Marvin Pope (to which Garrett responds in a lengthy footnote) or translation notes in many English translations. Although he does not mention this possibility, I am sure he would also reject the possibility that these two creatures refer to dinosaurs, a popular view among creationists.

Behemoth represents “powers that attempt to impose order on the earth” (529). Behemoth is wisdom (537), but wisdom perverted for evil. Leviathan is the “embodiment of all evil” (557), the sum of all the evil and injustice the Job has complained about. To support his view, Garrett collects ten points from apocalyptic beasts and shows that Behemoth represents national imperial authority (538–40). Garrett then demonstrates this consistent with Daniel’s apocalyptic composite animals and the two beasts in Revelation 13 (540). These apocalyptic examples of bizarre creatures represent nations attempting to impose their own order on the world, a perverse order that twists God’s wisdom.

Job and his friends may have thought God would slaughter Leviathan, destroying evil in the world. But God does not. “God does have the power to overcome the monster, but even for him, true victory over evil is a complex problem, and it is not solved by brute force (557). In Christian theology, the one who defeats the great dragon does not slay it in heroic combat but through the cross, the ultimate act of the hidden wisdom of God (557).

As is well known, the Hebrew of Job is difficult. There are many rare and unique words, and the poetry is terse and highly elliptical. The Old Greek is a free, paraphrasing translation that is not helpful for translating the Hebrew. The result is often very different translations of Job. Garrett states that “scholars should not be editors;” they should not try to “improve” the book (16). Emendations should be used sparingly and only when the text is incomprehensible. “Can never know that proposed is valid” (16).

Garrett follows this practice in the body of the commentary. Each section begins with textual notes, comparing the Septuagint, Vulgate, and other versions. This is followed by his translation, which has copious footnotes explaining his translation choices. He explains his syntactical and lexical decisions in these notes, often interacting with major commentaries. Since this section is so detailed, he does not repeat these comments in the commentary itself. The result is that his textual notes are often longer than his commentary. For example, commenting on Job 28:1-11, he makes three textual notes comparing various retentions of the Septuagint and Vulgate. Five pages of translation notes follow, including thirty-one footnotes for eleven verses. In contrast, the commentary is about a page and a half, followed by a little more than a page of biblical theological comments. Sometimes, Garrett includes a theological summary after this, but not always. A paragraph on “Application and Devotional Implications” appears only at the end of a major section.

Conclusion. Duane Garrett’s exegetical commentary on Job is the product of many years of teaching wisdom literature and reflection on the book of Job. Although this commentary is a detailed, academic study of the book of Job, it will certainly assist those who want to teach this difficult book in a church context.

Review of other commentaries in this series:

Bonus: Read an interview with Garrett and Burer on the Lexham Press blog.

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

Michael Bird and Scot McKnight, eds. God’s Israel and the Israel of God: Paul and Supersessionism

Bird, Michael F. and Scot McKnight, eds. God’s Israel and the Israel of God: Paul and Supersessionism. Bellingham, Wash.: Lexham Press, 2023. xi+188 pp.; Pb.; $25.99. Link to Lexham Press

This volume of essays deals with the controversial topic of supersession, that the Christian church has in some way replaced Israel as God’s people. As Michael Bird observes, supersessionism is “a mode of scholarly, in-house, deviant labeling against any interpreter daring to articulate a perspective on Paul that is sufficiently conducive to some preferred vision of interfaith relationships” (49). In biblical studies, accusing someone of supersessionism is a variation of Godwin’s Law. Sooner or later, someone will accuse another Pauline scholar of supersessionism and drop the mic, thinking they automatically win the debate. But it is worse than that. Scot McKnight expresses scholarly loathing of supersessionism in his conclusion to the book: “The undeniable implication of so much of supersessionist mentality has been vicious, sinful, sickening racism. I deplore it…” (167).Supersessionism

However, as Ben Witherington states, Paul was, in fact, a radical Jew who did not fit neatly into the diversity of early Judaism (66; I agree, I wonder if Peter, James, and or John would fit neatly into that diversity). For Witherington, supersessionism is an anachronistic term Paul would not have recognized (77). Nevertheless, if Jesus is Israel’s Messiah, some sort of supersessionism is unavoidable, at least in the salvific sense.

Lurking in the background of these discussions is the opinion of N. T. Wright. In his massive Pauline Theology, Paul and the Faithfulness of God, Wright suggested that Paul’s theology was an inner Judaism, sectarian supersessionism. Paul presents a freshly reworked people of God, and Israel’s eschatology is “freshly imagined” (PFG, 784). For Wright, Paul is no different than Qumran, another Jewish sect that withdrew from mainstream Judaism and was extremely critical of the temple aristocracy. In a footnote, Wright asks if the Mishnah is supersessionist when it presents a way of being Jewish different from earlier generations (PFG, 809, note 110). Wright concludes Paul was not only a sectarian supersessionist but “it is silly to call this supersessionism” (cited by McKnight, 30).

Part One of the book collects three essays on Pauline Supersessionism. Scot McKnight calls supersessionism “a game to be played” (Chapter 1). Following N. T. Wright, McKnight recognizes that Paul describes the church not as “Israel replaced” but as “Israel expanded.” With respect to salvation, one’s identity is “in Christ,” whether Jew or Gentile, male or female.  Jewish believers in Christ no more ceased being Jewish than males ceased being males. Those identities are swallowed up in the new identity in Christ (34). McKnight cites Jewish scholar Jon Levenson as saying, “Nowhere does Christianity betray its indebtedness to Judaism more than in its supersessionism” (Levenson, The Death and Resurrection of the Beloved Son, Yale, 1995; x)

Michael F. Bird offers an overview of “Paul’s Messianic Eschatology and Supersession” in Chapter 2. Bird suggests that supersessionism is Jewish. “Paul’s ‘messianic eschatology’ seems to necessitate some form of supersessionism, with Paul believing Israel is redefined around the Messiah and the spirit. This is an inescapable inference given that Paul believed he was right, and his fellow Jews were wrong” (46). Bird carefully considers the Qumran literature where the “sons of light” stand in contrast to other Jews who were described as the “sons of darkness.” Enoch also draws lines between righteous Jews (the author’s group) and unrighteous Jews (who disagree with the author). Even Philo considered True Israel the philosophically minded and morally upright person (whether they were Jews or not).

The third essay by Ben Witherington III discusses “Paul, Galatians, and Supersessionism.” He does not like the term supersessionism since it is anachronistic. Israel still has a future, but that future is “in Christ.” The Jews of Paul’s day would have seen Paul as an apostate (citing Alan Segal), As demonstrated by Paul’s frequent conflict in the synagogues (2 Cor 11:24).  For Paul, there is no two-track model of salvation (Jews keep Torah, while Gentiles have faith in Jesus). Witherington also wants to eliminate the anachronistic phrase “parting of the ways” (79). Jews and Gentiles are “united in Christ” in Galatians. For Paul, this is the only way.

Part Two of the book collects four responses to these essays. Lynn C. Cohick’s essay “Thinking about Supersessionism from Paul to Melito of Sardi” could have been one of the main essays in the collection since she does not so much respond to the first three writers as wholeheartedly agree with them. She admits that her understanding of supersessionism differs little from the first three essays. She concurs that supersessionism, understood as replacement theology, is not found in Paul’s letters, even if Jesus Christ fulfills biblical promises for all people (84).

David Rudolph offers “A Messianic Jewish Response.” Rudolph does not like N. T. Wright, which puts him at odds with McKnight and Bird. Since Wright and his followers see Jewish life is obsolete in the new covenant, does that erase messianic Jewish life? He suggests that third-race views like Wright’s are a “theology of Jewish erasure.” Christian theology expropriates Jewish identity through spiritualizing, leading to the stigmatization of Jews (113-14).

Janelle Peters responds from a Catholic perspective, but she writes as an expert in early Judaism and Christianity at Loyola Marymount. In her essay, “Paul, Nostra Aetate, and Irrevocable Gifts in Light of the Romans’ Plant Metaphor,” she observes that Paul valued his Jewish heritage and that Jewish believers did not cease to be Jewish because of their faith in Christ. She agrees that early Jewish sects could be construed as succession, but this is not true in modern Judaism. No early Jewish sect is close to Christianity or modern Judaism (the Qumran examples cited by Bird are what she has in mind). Since Vatican II, the Catholic view is that God made promises to Israel and affirms the “unceasing validity of the Jewish covenant.”

Ronald Charles is the Director of Messianic Jewish Studies at Kings University. In his essay, “A Critical Response to Pauline Supersessionism,” Charles suggests that McKnight is really fighting a proxy war against religious pluralism. He pushes back on each of the three main essays, generally saying, “Paul doesn’t quite say that…”  about your pods, Witherington rejection of anachronisms, he faults him for not being as careful with the term Christian to talk about early Christ followers, and he thoroughly critiques Witherington’s exegesis of Galatians.

McKnight offers a short reflection as a conclusion to the book. In response to David Rudolph, “our non-messianic Jews members of God’s covenant people,” he is clear: they are members of God’s covenant with Israel, always have been, and always will be (Romans 11:28–29). However, Rudolph does not make clear what “covenanted” means. In response to Charles, McKnight points out that there is no reason for anyone to think Messianic Jews need to surrender their observance, nor is there any reason for gentile believers to denounce messianic Jews for observing the Torah. “I would gladly surrender bacon if it offends my brother or sister, but only so long as no bacon is required of all believers” (173).

Conclusion. McKnight, Bird, and Witherington affirm Paul’s Gospel’s radicalness, which states that one can only be right with God through faith in Jesus the Messiah. Even if this is “salvific supersessionism,” it cannot be described as “replacement theology” in the traditional sense. The three main authors are feisty, and most respondents do not hold back in their criticism. This book is an excellent introduction to the extremely difficult problem of supersessionism.

NB: I appreciate Lexham Press’s generous offer of a review copy of this book, but this did not influence my thoughts about the work.

James F. McGrath, Christmaker: A Life of John the Baptist

McGrath, James F. Christmaker: A Life of John the Baptist. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2024. xi+172 pp. Hb; $24.99   Link to Eerdmans

James F. McGrath is Clarence L. Goodwin Chair in New Testament Language and Literature at Butler University. Prior to this book on John the Baptist, he published John’s Apologetic Christology (SNTSMS 111; Cambridge, 2001), The Mandaean Book of John: Critical Edition, Translation, and Commentary (with Charles G. Häberl; De Gruyter, 2019), and The Only True God: Early Christian Monotheism in Its Jewish Context (University of Illinois Press, 2022). In 2023, he published the entertaining The A to Z of the New Testament: Things Experts Know That Everyone Else Should Too (Eerdmans, reviewed here). McGrath is active on social media and regularly posts to his blog, Religion Prof.

John the Baptist

McGrath makes some rather bold claims in this popular-level book on John the Baptist. For example, “What became Christianity was an offshoot of the Baptist movement” (124). Jesus was a disciple or apostle of John (93), and “Jesus’s teaching was the gist of John’s message” (74). Christmaker challenges much of what most Bible readers think they know about John the Baptist.

In the first chapter, McGrath describes John as “a rebellious son.” He was born into a priestly family but does not serve in the temple as a priest like his father, Zachariah. In fact, he is quite critical of the temple. McGrath suggests this is because his mother, Elizabeth, dedicated him as a Nazareth from birth, similar to Samson or Samuel. He suggests John may have struggled with his father’s desire for him to serve as a priest and his mother’s oath that he be a Nazarite. McGrath’s solution is that Nazarites had similar roles to priests and may have been “priests in the order of Melchizedek” (70).

Little can be known about John’s early life. McGrath rightly dismisses the view that John was not an Essene or that he spent any significant time with the scenes at Qumran. there are similarities between John’s criticism of the temple and his washing in the wilderness and the Essenes. Although he was not a sect member, the Essenes may have been dialogue partners with John (24).

John did not go into the wilderness to live a solitary lifestyle. He was “calling people to revisit the wilderness as a prelude to becoming the people that Israel was called to be from its beginning” (32).  John’s activity at the Jordan River met with pilgrims from Galilee on their way to Jerusalem (71).

In the second chapter, “I Will Destroy This Temple,” McGrath argues that John’s baptism was an alternative attempt at Temple sacrifice for the forgiveness of sin. He begins with Isaiah 10:10–15, a text he suggests was “John’s manifesto” (64). Like Isaiah, John was preparing exiles to return spiritually through the wilderness. John was preparing Israel for the final eschatological temple. John “came to predict God would destroy the temple and replace it.” Although this is never actually stated in Matthew or Luke, this seems to be built on McGrath’s argument that baptism replaced sacrifice and that the prophets looked forward to a new eschatological temple. The old Herodian temple had to go if a new eschatological temple was coming.

McGrath goes further. When Jesus did the temple action, it would have been perceived as a message from John” (53). He suggests that John sent Jesus to deliver the message at the temple. Jesus served as John’s emissary (57), and later in the book, he suggests that Jesus was “John’s leading apostle” (93). This raises an important theme that occurs throughout the book. Many studies of John the Baptist suggest some tension between John and Jesus. For example, in Matthew 11:2- 6, John’s disciples ask Jesus if he is really the one to come (read my comments on this passage here). There were also differences in how John and Jesus went about their mission. McGrath calls these “superficial differences” and no real disagreement (115).  McGrath does consider Jesus an innovator, “even in relation to John, whom he esteemed highly and to whom he owed much” (141).

In chapter 3, “The Lost Sheep of the House of Israel,” McGrath argues that John is an apocalyptic prophet. Like Jesus, John made no effort to organize a separate community from the Judaism of his day. With John’s ministry, God is creating a new people of God. McGrath suggests this is a “direct line” from John the Baptist, through Jesus, to Paul. “Paul is building on a foundation that John laid” (75). I don’t think McGrath means that Paul intentionally built on the foundation of John. It is not even certain Paul knew the teachings of John the Baptist. Nevertheless, McGrath is correct in understanding John’s ministry as standing on the foundation of the prophets and within the larger world of Second Temple Judaism.

McGrath deals with the question of what John thought about Jesus in his fourth chapter, “Someone is Coming.” He argues that John did not see himself as Jesus’s forerunner, nor that Jesus was “the one who is coming.” McGrath does not think a historian can investigate whether Jesus was actually the coming one. Some of John’s followers may have been disappointed after Jesus’s execution. He wasn’t becoming one who would begin eschatological judgment. Jesus’s followers reinterpreted the kingdom of God might mean (115).

In chapter 5, McGrath deals with John’s death. He begins by stating the famous story of John’s head on a silver platter (Mark 6:14-29; Matt 14:1-12) is a “concoction of Mark” (117). Comparing the Gospel of Mark with Josephus (Ant. 18.116-119), he rightly observes that Herod Antipas angered the Nabatean king Aretas IV when he divorced the king’s daughter to marry Herodias. Aretas then defeated Antipas in battle, a victory in the eyes of many people vindicated the preaching of John the Baptist. Therefore, Antipas had John arrested and executed. The gospel of Mark shifts the blame from Antipas to Herodias, which is less plausible from McGrath. He suggests that Mark draws a parallel between Antipas and Pilate. Pilate also yielded to pressure to execute Jesus, and Mark shifted the blame for the execution from Pilate to the Jews. Josephus also reports that John was taken to the Herodian fortress at Machaerus near the Dead Sea. McGrath finds this “extremely unlikely.” If Herod held a banquet with his officials, it would have been in Tiberius (127). In addition, Mark reports that John’s disciples took charge of the body, unlikely if John was held in the remote fortress of Machaerus.

An important aspect of this book is that McGrath takes the Mandean literature seriously as a source of information about John the Baptist. He suggests the “best way to get behind the later developments to what Jon himself did is by triangulating from things that Mandean and Christian baptism share in common” (60). For some readers, this might be their first hearing of the Mandeans. I suggest Edmondo F. Lupieri, The Mandaeans: The Last Gnostics (Eerdmans, 2001) as an excellent introduction to this obscure Gnostic sect. He cites an example from the Mandean Book of John, which describes “a fisher who summons the poor” and enthrones his disciples after they rise. “You will likely have noticed some striking similarities to language. Jesus used in reference to discipleship” in this Mandean text, “most likely because John the Baptist used it” (72). He suggests that when Jesus used the phrase “fisher of people,” he was “deliberately echoing John’s language” (72).  Mandean sources do not report John’s violent death. Rather, a celestial messenger removes John’s spirit from his flesh, adding a “gnostic angle” (134).

The final chapter, “No One is Greater than John,” traces the trajectories of John’s influence from the first century to our own world. He begins with the gospel of John, which is “readily intelligible as a polemic against the followers of John thought they had no need of Jesus” (142). The chapter includes expansions in the pseudepigraphic Infancy Gospel of James and in Manicheism, Judaism, Islam, the Mandeans, and the Theosophical movement in the early nineteenth century (which was sparked by the rediscovery and publication of Mandean literature).

Throughout the book, McGrath relates experiences from his year-long sabbatical studying John the Baptist. He had the opportunity to visit many of the sites in Israel and Jordan related to the Baptist and his movement. These are always fascinating, even more so after seeing much of this happen in real-time on McGrath’s social media. The book might have been enhanced by including maps or photographs of key locations.

Christmaker is a companion volume to McGrath’s forthcoming John of History, Baptist of Faith: The Quest for the Historical Baptizer (due October 2024). This is the source of my main frustration with Christmaker. There are many times in the book where McGrath asserts something that needs additional support, making me wonder if his point is valid. For example, he assumes a close connection between baptism and healing (62). I do not see this in the New Testament. John the Baptist did not have a reputation as a healer, and there are only a few examples of washing related to healing in Jesus’s ministry (John 9, for example). None of these examples are baptisms like John’s (and lack explicit reference to forgiveness of sin). This lack of detailed argument (and footnotes) makes sense since the book is intended for a broad, non-academic market. Many of these questions will likely be answered when John of History is published.

Conclusion: Can you say anything new about John the Baptist? Apparently, quite a bit. McGrath suggests in the introduction to the volume that many doubt whether a biography of John the Baptist can be written based on the data available. By taking data from Mandean sources seriously, McGrath draws on a larger database than most monographs on John the Baptist. Whether or not readers agree with McGrath’s view that Jesus was John’s disciple or that Jesus taught the gist of John’s message, this book will challenge common assumptions about John the Baptist.

Bonus: Check out this interview with McGrath on EerdWorld.

 

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