The Timing of Jesus (Matthew 1:17)

How many generations are there between Abraham and Jesus? 42 (Matthew 1:17)

The Gospel of Matthew, and consequently the New Testament as whole, begins with a genealogy of Jesus (Matthew 1:1-17). It is one of two messianic lineages preserved in the New Testament (Matthew 1:1-17; Luke 3:23-38). Georg Strecker (1929-2004) proposed that the genealogy predates Matthew’s gospel (Der Weg der Gerechtigkeit, 138ff) though most now believe the material is entirely the evangelist’s.

From its opening verse Matthew’s “origins story” stresses that Jesus is “the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham” (Matthew 1:1 NASB) and validates this claim by tracing Jesus’ ancestry through David to Abraham (Matthew 1:1-17). In doing so, Matthew makes the Old Testament Jesus’ back story and places him firmly into the history of Israel.

The genealogy is carefully constructed. M. Eugene Boring (b. 1935) notes:

Matthew follows the biblical pattern of incorporating genealogical material into the narrative as a constituent element of the story, adopting the pattern found in Ruth 4:18-22: “A begot B.” ...Thus the genealogy in Matthew is not a list, but a series of short sentences leading from Abraham to Jesus, the narrative unit of the larger story that follows. (Leander E. Keck [b. 1928], Matthew - Mark (The New Interpreter’s Bible), 129)

The passages’s concluding summary statement further reveals its meticulous alignment (Matthew 1:17). Matthew trisects the data into three fourteen generation epochs.

So all the generations from Abraham to David are fourteen generations; from David to the deportation to Babylon, fourteen generations; and from the deportation to Babylon to the Messiah, fourteen generations. (Matthew 1:17 NASB)

The breakdown is not as simple as the summary statement makes it appear; the list has been deliberately edited to elicit literary symmetry (Matthew 1:17). Ulrich Luz (b. 1938) details:

The genealogy consists of a long series of monotonous, short main clauses. Its organization is decoded by Matthew 1:17: it consists of 3 × 14 generations. However, these cannot be found exactly like this in the text: If one follows Matthew 1:17 literally then David must be counted twice, and the second series of 14 goes from him until Josiah. If one counts Josiah also twice, then one gets a second series of 14 until Jesus. Matthew 1:17, however, accentuates the exile as a break, which is clearly marked also in the genealogy. If one does not begin the third series until Matthew 1:12, then one has only 13 generations for it. The structure given in Matthew 1:17 is not patently clear. It can only be explained by literary criticism. (Luz, Matthew 1-7 (A Continental Commentary), 117)

The genealogy is not exhaustive, clearly omitting generations to meets its trifold pattern. This is especially true of the last series of fourteen (Matthew 1:12-16).

R.T. France (1938-2012) recognizes:

In order to keep the number of generations between David and Jehoichin to fourteen, Matthew has had to omit five of the actual kings recorded in Old Testament history: he goes straight from Joram to Uzziah, omitting the three generations of Ahaziah, Joash, and Amaziah (together with the usurping queen-mother Athaliah), and the brothers Jehoahaz and Jehoiakim are omitted between Josiah and Jehoiachin. (France, The Gospel of Matthew (New International Commentary on the New Testament), 30)

This strained calculation is purposeful. Michael J. Wilkins (b. 1949) assures:

Matthew skips some generations in Jesus’ family tree so that the structure can be made uniform for memorization, while other members are given prominence to make a particular point. (Clinton E. Arnold [b. 1958], Matthew, Mark, Luke (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 10)

This is not atypical for genealogies. Robert R. Wilson (b. 1942) observes that though omissions occur for various reasons, they are not typically found at the outset of lists where founders are important nor at the end where living memory prevails but rather in the middle of the document (Wilson, Genealogy and History in the Biblical World). This impression fits Matthew’s lineage.

Due to the neglected names, the genealogy is unbalanced chronologically. Raymond E. Brown (1928-1998) approximates:

The spans of time covered by the three sections of genealogy are too great to have contained only fourteen generations each, since some 750 years separated Abraham from David, some 400 years separated David from the Babylonian Exile, and some 600 years separated the Babylonian Exile from Jesus’ birth. (Brown, The Birth of the Messiah: A Commentary on the Infancy Narratives in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, 74-75)

In Matthew’s genealogy theology trumps historical precision. William D. Shiell (b. 1972) informs:

As with any other genealogy in the ancient world, Matthew does not include everyone related biologically to Jesus. His is a theological list rather than a family tree, so the list contains the significant names for Matthew’s purposes that reflect a certain picture of Jesus. (Shiell, Sessions with Matthew: Becoming a Family of Faith, 5)

In spite of the summary statement’s assertion (Matthew 1:17), not all of the divisions encompass precisely fourteen names. Craig L. Blomberg (b. 1955) argues that this too is not abnormal to the genre:

The actual number of generations in the three parts of the genealogy are thirteen, fourteen, and thirteen respectively, but ancient counting often alternated between inclusive and exclusive reckoning. Such variation was thus well within standard literary convention of the day (for a good rabbinic parallel, see m. ‘Abot 5:1-6). When once compares the genealogy with Luke’s account and with various Old Testament narratives, it is clear that Matthew has omitted several names to achieve this literary symmetry. But the verb consistently translated...“was the father of” (more literally begat) could also mean was the ancestor of. (Blomberg, Matthew (New American Commentary), 53)

This pliable enumeration is particularly noticeable in the last sequence. As such, many explanations have been offered to explain the purported discrepancy. One of the most common theories is conflation.

Michael J. Wilkins (b. 1949) typifies:

The third group of fourteen generations, from the deportation to Jesus, begins again by counting Jeconiah and ends with Jesus’ name...The name “Jeconiah” may serve as a double entendre to indicate both Jehoiakim and the end of the second group of generations, and also to indicate Jehoiachin and the beginning of the third group of generations after the deportation. On this supposition, the name “Jeconiah” is counted twice to indicate the two different rulers and eras in Matthew’s genealogy. (Wilkins, Matthew (The NIV Application Commentary), 64)

Others, including Krister Stendahl (1921-2008), have conjectured that Jesus and Christ should be tallied as two different generations, with the latter representing the returning Christ (Matthew 1:16).

Though it defies Matthew’s established literary pattern, Robert H. Gundry (b. 1932) suggests that Matthew counts Joseph and Mary as separate generations:

To get this third fourteen Matthew probably counts Mary as well as Joseph; i.e. the one chronological generation carries two other kinds of generations within it, a legal (Joseph’s) and a physical (Mary’s)...The counting of Mary harmonizes with Matthew’s distinction between the royal lineage of Jesus through Joseph (cf. Joseph’s being addressed as “son of David” in Matthew 1:20) and the divine generation of Jesus through Mary. (Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on His Handbook for a Mixed Church under Persecution, 19)

Stanley Hauerwas (b. 1940) postulates:

The last group has only thirteen generations because the church that Jesus calls into existence constitutes the fourteenth generation. (Hauerwas, Matthew (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 31)

Regardless of how the names are calculated, it can be assumed that the oversight is intentional. Frederick Dale Bruner (b. 1932) asserts:

Matthew knows that some of his audience can read, that they can check his kings with the Old Testament. Matthew is not trying to put something over on us; with the sovereign freedom appropriate to the Messiah’s evangelist, Matthew is simply helping history preach doctrine. He drops about four chapters and four kings from his Old Testament genealogy in order to have a smoother, more memorable chronology — in order to get fourteen....This was John Calvin [1509-1564]’s solution too...Matthew does not falsify, he simplifies — Uzziah was the son of Jothan according to the rabbinic rule that “the sons of sons are also sons.” In obedience to the point of Scripture — Jesus the Christ — Matthew sharpened the pointers to him — the roughly comparable number of generations between Abraham, David the Exile, and Christ — because Matthew believes that this rough comparability best “makes the point” of God’s ordering and gracious providence. (Bruner, The Churchbook: Matthew 1-12, 17)

Stanley P. Saunders (b. 1953) concurs:

When Matthew repeatedly names “fourteen generations,” he issues an engraved invitation to go back and count. When one does so, however, it becomes clear that the last segment, which runs from Sheatiel to Jesus [Matthew 1:13-16] is defective, yielding but thirteen generations...Did Matthew make a mistake? If so, it likely an intentional “mistake.” Throughout the genealogy Matthew has included surprises, incongruities, and broken patterns. Matthew is training us to attend to the details. Here he creates a puzzle for us to grapple with. Is Jesus to be counted twice, once as Jesus and again as the Christ? Or does Matthew understand Jesus as the one who simultaneously stands as the sole survivor of his generation (cf. Matthew 2:16-18) and again as the firstfruits of the time of resurrection (cf. Matthew 27:51-54). Is he both the “Son of Humanity” (or “the human one” or “Son of Man”) and Son of God, the representative of both God and humankind? Does the Holy Spirit (cf. Matthew 1:20) represent the thirteenth generation, and Jesus the fourteenth? Matthew does not resolve the puzzle, but compels us to become active interpreters who, in the light of the larger story, must sort out for ourselves who Jesus is. By the end of the genealogy we already know that we should expect the unexpected, look for God’s agents among the vulnerable and powerless, and learn how Jesus fulfills Israel’s history while radically disrupting it. (Saunders, Preaching the Gospel of Matthew: Proclaiming God’s Presence, 4)

While the specifics can be debated, the overarching theme cannot. Donald Senior (b. 1940) determines:

If some of the details remain enigmatic, the overall intent of Matthew’s genealogy is clear. His distillation of Israel’s history brings attention successively to Abraham and patriarchal history, to the image of David the king, to the shattering experience of exile, and to the renewal of hope through the Messiah. (Senior, Matthew (Abingdon New Testament Commentaries), 37)

David L. Turner (b. 1949) professes:

However one handles this problem, D.A. Carson [b. 1946]’s point (1984: 68) is noteworthy: “The symbolic value of the fourteens is of more significance than their precise breakdown.” Matthew certainly knew basic arithmetic as well as modern scholars do, but Matthew’s literary conventions are ancient, not modern. By modern standards, Matthew’s linear genealogy is artificial because it not exhaustive...It is not that Matthew has erred, since he did not intend to work exhaustively and precisely. (Turner, Matthew (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 27)

Whereas Luke’s genealogy is organized around the number seven (Luke 3:23-38), Matthew goes to great lengths to structure Jesus’ ancestry with the integer fourteen (Matthew 1:17). Leon Morris (1914-2006) interjects:

Clearly the number is significant for him, but unfortunately he does not explain why. But the note of fulfillment is strong, and perhaps Marshall D. Johnson (1935-2011) gives us the answer: “The function of the genealogy — the note of fulfillment — explains the lack of a precise and exact parallel with contemporary sources: the two genealogies of Jesus in the New Testament are the only extant Messianic genealogies which are written to prove that the Messiah has come.” We should perhaps bear in mind also the point made by Louis Finkelstein [1895-1991] that the number fourteen was regarded as significant in contemporary Judaism. He says, “The number, ‘fourteen, is not accidental. It corresponds to the number of high priests from the establishment of Solomon’s Temple; the number of high priests from the establishment of the Temple until Jaddua, the last high priest mentioned in Scripture. It is clear that a mystic significance attached to this number, in both the Sadducean and the Pharisaic traditions.” Matthew would have been aware of this and may be producing an argument that would impress Jews. (Morris, The Gospel according to Matthew (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 25)

Charles H. Talbert (b. 1934) further chronicles the precedent:

The number fourteen was conventional in genealogies. In I Chronicles 1-2 are fourteen generations from Abraham to David; in 2 Baruch 53-74 world history is divided into fourteen periods from Adam to the messiah; in m. Avot 1.1-12 are fourteen links in the chain of tradition between Moses and the last of the pairs of teachers. So Matthew’s auditors would have experienced nothing out of the ordinary in this opening of his narrative. (Talbert, Matthew (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament), 33)

Craig S. Keener (b. 1960) considers:

Perhaps fourteen was simply Matthew’s average estimate of the generations from one period in Israel’s history to the next, Matthew preferred a round number for each set of generations, perhaps for ease of memorization (cf. II Maccabees 2:25); some argue that occasional Talmudic lists also edited lists to fourteen elements (Shulamit Valler 1995). But he probably did so especially to imply that, as in the case of the new Elijah of Matthew 3:4, Israel was due for its Messiah to come when Jesus was born (cf. Donald A. Hagner [b. 1936] 1993:7). (Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 74)

Numerous justifications have been given for the use of the number. Some have seen a connection to the cycle of the moon. W. D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) trace:

The cycle of the moon covers twenty-eight days, fourteen of waning, fourteen of waxing. Perhaps, then, the idea behind Matthew 1:2-17 is this: the time between Abraham and David was one of waxing, with David being the climax; next the period after David was one of waning, the captivity being the low point; finally, there followed a time of waxing, the zenith coming with the birth of Jesus. In his Gnomon of the New Testament, Johann Albrecht Bengel [1687-1752] already mentioned this interpretation and ascribed it to...James Rhenford [1653-1712]. In more recent times it has been championed by Chaim Kaplan [1880-1942]. Just such a scheme does, in fact, lie behind Exodus Rabbah on 12.2. There, however, the cycles of the moon, given as 15 + 15 = 30, are explicitly cited. (Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7 (International Critical Commentary), 161-62)

Herbert Basser (b. 1942) expounds:

Just as the lunar cycle has twenty-eight nights (the cycle ends at dusk on the twenty-ninth day), so the night of the fourteenth-fifteen signals the moon at midmonth. We can construe that Matthew’s genealogy rises to the height, or fulness, with David in the fourteenth generation, after which, starting with Solomon, the genealogy descends through fourteen generations to the lowest point, or the darkness of moonless nights, that is the Exile. And fourteen generations after the darkness of the Exile, like the moon in its nightly waxing, the genealogy rises again to the height, or fullness, which is Jesus. According to this scenario, both David and Jesus are at “full moon” positions in a complete fourteen/fifteen generation repeating cycle. (Basser, The Mind Behind the Gospels: A Commentary to Matthew 1-14, 26)

Many have found a connection to the number seven, as 14÷2=7. Seven is found often in the Bible, commonly representing wholeness. Suzanne de Diétrich (1891-1981) communicates fourteen as “the symbol of plenitude of something complete.” (Diétrich, The Layman’s Bible Commentary, 16)

Others have taken the connection with seven a step further and interpreted the genealogy as a period of six weeks with Jesus inaugurating a seventh week, an eschatological Sabbath. N.T. Wright (b. 1948) concedes:

His three periods of fourteen generations may well be intended to hint at six periods of seven generations so that Jesus starts the seventh seven, the climactic moment of the series. (Wright, The New Testament and the People of God, 385)

Others adopting this stance include John P. Meier [b. 1942] 1980: 3-4; Fabrizio Foresti 1984; Herman Hendrickx [1933-2002] 1984, The Infancy Narratives: 23-24 and Ben Witherington III [b. 1951] 2006: 41.

W. D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) explain:

Because seven but not fourteen is a prominent number in the Bible, Matthew’s three fourteens can be regarded as the equivalent of six sevens (3 × 14 = 6 × 7), in which case Jesus would stand at the head of the seventh seven, the seventh day of history, the dawn of the eternal sabbath. A parallel to this could be found in the ‘Apocalypse of Weeks’ (I Enoch 93:1-10; 91:12-17)...Yet it must be said that Matthew expressly writes of three fourteens, not six sevens. (Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7 (International Critical Commentary), 162)

Mervyn Eloff (b. 1957) also expresses incredulity (Eloff, “Exile, Restoration and Matthew’s genealogy,” 84).

George F. Moore (1851-1931) proposes that if one measures a generation as 35 years, Matthew’s fourteen generations would span 490 years (35×14= 490 years) thus duplicating Daniel’s seventy weeks of years (490 years; cf. Daniel 9:24-27). This reckoning has Jesus’ coming corresponding to the fulfillment of prophecy (Moore, “Fourteen Generations – 490 years,” Harvard Theological Review (1921) 97-103). The difficulty with Moore’s theory is that assigning 35 years to a generation is arbitrary.

The most widespread theory regarding the genealogy’s structure is that the number fourteen is affixed to King David. Though Matthew’s genealogy prominently features Abraham (Matthew 1:1, 2, 17), it accentuates Jesus’ connection to David (Matthew 1:1, 6, 17). Before Arabic numerals, letters and consequently words carried a numeric value known as gematia. As Hebrew was scripted with no vowels there are three letters in David’s Hebrew name. August Friedrich Gfrörer (1803-1861) recognized that the sum of these three letters totals fourteen.

David L. Turner (b. 1949) computes:

Matthew has evidently chosen fourteen generations to structure his genealogy because David is the fourtheenth name in the genealogy and fourteen is the numerical value of “David” in Hebrew. Consonantally, דןד (dwd) is 4 (d) + 6 (w) + 4 (d) when the places of the consonants in the numerical order of the Hebrew alphabet are added together. This gematria, which assigns numerical values to letters, stresses the centrality of David in Jesus’s background as well as the centrality of great David’s greater son, Jesus, for Matthew’s readers. (Turner, Matthew (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 58)

Craig A. Evans (b. 1952) acknowledges:

Interpreting the numerical value of the letters that make up a name (called gematria in Hebrew) may strike us today as very strange, but it held significance for the ancients and was practiced by Jewish interpreters of Scripture (e.g. b. Shabbat 70a, in reference to Exodus 35:1) and Greek interpreters of oracles and various traditions. (Evans, Matthew (New Cambridge Bible Commentary), 37)

W. D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) add:

Gematria was practised in both Jewish and Christian circles close to Matthew’s time; and the numerical interpretation of David’s name can account for both the number three and the number fourteen. Still, objections have been raised. First, the use of gematria in Greek documents is customarily accompanied by an explicit statement indicating such. Reference need be made only to Revelation 13:18 and Sibylline Oracles 5.12-51. And even when, as in rabbinic sources, gematria is not explicit, it is only because its presence is unmistakable, as in Numbers Rabbah on 5.18 and 16.1. Secondly, the list of fourteen names in Matthew 1:2-6a was surely traditional and therefore ought not to be regarded as the product of a numerical play on David’s name. (Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7 (International Critical Commentary), 163-64)

Further criticism reminds that the nuance would likely have been lost on Matthew’s original audience. Donald A. Hagner (b. 1936) rejects:

The Book of Matthew, it should be remembered, is written in Greek, and the numerology of the Hebrew name would not be at all evident to Greek readers without explanation. That David’s name in Hebrew is equal to fourteen may well be only a coincidence; in any event, it can hardly be determinative in a Greek text. (Hagner, Matthew 1-13 (Word Biblical Commentary), 7)

The use of gematria is not commonly found in the New Testament. R.T. France (1938-2012) discerns:

Revelation 13:17-18 is the only clear New Testament parallel to this sort of calculation, known as Gematria (but see also Epistle of Barnabas 9:8, a very early Christian work), but it is well attested in Rabbinc circles, and the clear emphasis on David through genealogy suggests it may be in Matthew’s mind. If he did not do it deliberately, he would probably have been delighted to have it pointed out to him! (France, Matthew (Tyndale New Testament Commentaries), 75)

There can be little doubt that a connection to David is being accentuated. David’s name pervades the list. It appears five times, more than any other name and is situated at the beginning, middle, end and (Matthew 1:1, 6, 17 [twice in Matthew 1:6, 17]). David is further emphasized as, despite being featured in a list replete with kings, he is the only character designated as such (Matthew 1:6).

Andreas J. Köstenberger (b. 1957), L. Scott Kellum (b. 1964) and Charles L. Quarles (b. 1965) note:

Although the genealogy of Jesus contained the names of many kings ranging from David to Jechoniah, only David was specifically identified as a king. This implies that Matthew stressed Jesus’ Davidic lineage in order to demonstrate that Jesus was qualified to reign as king. Old Testament prophecies foretold that the Messiah, the eternal King of Gods people, would be a descendent of David. In II Samuel 7:11-16, the prophet Nathan prophesied that God would raise up a descendant of David and establish the throne of his kingdom forever. (Köstenberger, Keller, and Quarles, The Cradle, the Cross, and the Crown: An Introduction to the New Testament, 219)

W. D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) resolve:

We suspect gematria because David’s name has the value of fourteen and because in Matthew 1:2-16 there are 3 × 14 generations. But there is an additional observation to be made. David’s name is fourteenth on the list. This is telling. In a genealogy of 3 × 14 generations, the one name with three consonants and a value of fourteen is also placed in the fourteenth spot. When one adds that this name is mentioned immediately before the genealogy (Matthew 1:1) and twice at its conclusion (Matthew 1:17), and that it is honoured by the title, king, coincidence becomes effectively ruled out. The name, David, is the key to the pattern of Matthew’s genealogy. (Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7 (International Critical Commentary), 165)

The blatant connection to David paints Jesus as the long awaited Davidic Messiah. Rudolf Schnackenburg (1914-2002) deduces:

The point is to establish Jesus’ authentic descent from “King David” (Matthew 1:6), from whose line Nathan promised David that the Messiah would come (II Samuel 7:13-14). This descent is by way of Jesus’ putative father Joseph, of the same line. (Schnackenberg, The Gospel of Matthew, 16)

Douglas R.A. Hare (b. 1929) concurs:

By structuring the Davidic posterity in this way, Matthew announces that Jesus is not just a son of David (as is said of Joseph, Matthew 1:20) but is the long-awaited Messiah, David’s ultimate successor. (Hare, Matthew (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 6)

Part of the human experience is being rooted in a past. Like all of us, Jesus’ destiny is shaped in part by his roots. Matthew’s genealogy stresses that Jesus is the rightful king of Israel.

Why does Matthew’s summary statement enumerate the genealogy differently than its most natural reading (Matthew 1:17)? How important is knowing the Old Testament background to understanding Jesus? Do you attach any significance to the number 14? How would you begin telling the story of Jesus? What does Jesus’ genealogy tell you about him? How far back can you track your family tree? How has your lineage shaped you?

In beginning the gospel with a genealogy, Matthew places Jesus squarely within an historical framework, more specifically Israel’s. J. Andrew Overman (b. 1955) remarks:

Unmistakably, in Matthew Jesus is ensconced within the history of Israel’s divinely driven story. He is Jesus the messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham. These two heroes of Israel’s story are signaled out...as touchstones of the genealogy in Matthew 1:17...By Matthew’s peculiar reckoning, at the birth of Jesus Israel was due another anointed agent. Jesus is in the same family and in the same league with these two great figures and reformers in Israel’s story. This sets a tone for Matthew’s own story about Jesus and sets a series of expectations for the informed reader. (Overman, Church and Community in Crisis: The Gospel According to Matthew, 31)

Matthew’s genealogy not only places Jesus in a specific time and place, it frames history (Matthew 1:1-17). As could only be determined after the fact, Matthew generates neat divisions from otherwise seemingly messy data. Matthew’s gospel is not the first to make this attempt.

Herbert Basser (b. 1942) researches:

Although Matthew does not give explicit meaning to the pattern he develops, attention to Jewish texts helps ascribe some meaning to it. Babylonian Talmud tractate ‘Abodah Zarah 9a also divides Jewish history into three equal periods, though this text focuses on years rather than generations, and it understands history to be 6000 years in duration. (Basser, The Mind Behind the Gospels: A Commentary to Matthew 1-14, 19)

David E. Garland (b. 1947) inserts:

When the biblical historians schematized generations they declared their faith that “history is the sphere in which God works out his purpose” (Helen Milton [1916-1994], “The Structure of the Prologue to Matthew,” JBL 81[1962]: 176). Apocalyptic writers, however, arranged history into epochs to assess the present age and the future (see 2 [Syriac] Apocalypse of Baruch 53-74). The question in 4 Ezra 6:7 is typical of apocalyptic writings: “When will the end of the first age and the beginning of the second age be?” Matthew knows the answer to that question after the fact and fashions the table of genealogy to demonstrate that Jesus inaugurates the new age. At the appointed time (see Galatians 4:4), God has stepped in with the birth of his son. W.D. Davies [1911-2001] concludes: “The genealogy is an impressive witness to Matthew’s conviction that the birth of Jesus was no unpremeditated accident but occurred in the fulness of time and in the providence of God, who overruled the generations to this end, to inaugurate in Jesus a new order, the time of fulfillment” (Setting, 73). The genealogy is not the record of one birth after another. It discloses that God has been working within history to achieve foreordained purposes and that Jesus, the last person of the last epoch, is the fulfillment of God’s plan for Israel and the beginning of the new messianic age. (Garland, Reading Matthew: A Literary and Theological Commentary, 20)

The structure of the genealogy arranges history as a whole. Joel Kennedy (b. 1970) advances:

Matthew 1:17 emphasizes there has been a structural order to the genealogy as well as an order to the history of Israel that it recapitulates...Matthew 1:17 makes explicit the thrust implicit in Matthew 1:2-16. Christ stands dramatically and climactically at the end of Matthew’s teleological genealogy. For Matthew, the order of history through the providence of God has led to this point. Consequently, Matthew 1:17 intends that as one adds up the meaning of Israel’s history, the only appropriate sum will be Jesus Christ. (Kennedy, The Recapitulation of Israel: Use of Israel’s History in Matthew 1:1 - 4:11, 74-75)

Maris McCrabb (b. 1951) reviews Frederick Dale Bruner (b. 1932) characterization of Matthew’s epochs:

The message of the first fourteen on the list is mercy; the message of the second fourteen is justice or judgment; and the message of the final fourteen is faith, especially God’s faith: he promised and he fulfills his promise. “Jesus is the fulfillment of everything the Old Testament is trying to say.” (Matthew: A Commentary, 15). (McCrabb, Reflections on the Gospel of Matthew)

The underlying current of the genealogy is God’s guidance of history. Richard A. Jensen (b. 1934) informs:

The genealogy...lays out Matthew’s view of history...History has a plan. God is in charge of that plan. All of history comes to fruition and fulfillment in the birth of a baby boy. The name of the baby is Jesus. The destiny of history is bound up in this child. (Jensen, Preaching Matthew’s Gospel, 33)

God’s sovereigny is on display. Thomas G. Long (b. 1946) upholds:

The strongest explanation for the pattern of fourteens in the genealogy is that Matthew is following a Jewish literary technique of dividing epochs into equal parts, thereby making the theological claim that history is not haphazard, but under the control of God. Jesus’ appearance in history, Matthew wants us to know, was no mere accident, no random birth. Other human births may be the result of a spin of the biological wheel of fortune, but not Jesus’ birth. It was orderly, arranged, the result of God’s careful plan and providence. What might appear to be the uncontrolled flood of generations can now, in retrospect, be seen for what it truly is—a mighty river whose channel was carved out by the guiding and arranging hand of God, causing all of Israel’s history to flow in orderly fashion toward this critical moment of passion. (Long, Matthew (Westminster Bible Companion), 10)

John P. Meier (b. 1942) concludes:

The basic affirmation of the genealogy is two-fold: (1) Jesus’ origins lie in the old people of God, Israel; and (2) Jesus is the fulfillment of Israel’s history, a history carefully guided by God to its goal. (Meier, Matthew (New Testament Message), 3)

Though to those who had long awaited the Messiah, Jesus’ coming likely seemed delayed, Matthew convinces that Christ arrives at the proper interval. He appears in time to die for all and in doing so, redeems both his ancestors and descendants.

Do you find Matthew’s ordering of history to be contrived? How would you divide the past into epochs? How does Jesus disrupt history? How predetermined do you feel life is? Why was Jesus born at this specific time and place; how did it benefit him, the rest of humanity? When have you waited for something only to have later benefitted from its delay?

“Right time, right place, right people equals success.
Wrong time, wrong place, wrong people equals most of the real human history.”
- Idries Shah (1924-1996), Reflections, p. 82

Listening to Jesus’ Donkey (Matthew 21:1-3)

On which animal did Jesus ride into the city of Jerusalem? A donkey [The foal of an ass, KJV]

In contrast to is his usual low key mode of operating, all four canonical gospels depict Jesus’ final entry into Jerusalem as occurring before a substantial and enthusiastic crowd (Matthew 21:1-11; Mark 11:1-11; Luke 19:28-44; John 12:12-19). In short, Jesus makes an entrance. Jesus’ approach to the Holy City marks a major turning point in Matthew’s gospel and in many ways begins the Passion narrative. Often referred to as the “Triumphal Entry”, the church commemorates the event annually on Palm Sunday.

In preparation for his entry, Jesus’s gives very explicit instructions to his followers on where to secure his ride: Jesus will enter Jerusalem atop a donkey. .

When they had approached Jerusalem and had come to Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, then Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village opposite you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied there and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to Me. If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, ‘The Lord has need of them,’ and immediately he will send them.” (Matthew 21:1-3 NASB)

Donald Senior (b. 1940) summarizes:

Jesus prepares for his entry into Jerusalem by sending two disciples into the village to procure a donkey and a colt (Matthew 21:2-3). The whole tone emphasizes Jesus’ messianic authority—he commands the disciples; they do exactly what he says; and everything is as “the Lord” predicts. (Senior, Matthew (Abingdon New Testament Commentaries), 230)

The city where the disciples procure the donkey is undetermined as Jesus refers only to the “village opposite” (Matthew 21:2). Grant R. Osborne (b. 1942) contemplates:

It is difficult to know whether Jesus sent the two disciples to Bethphage (D.A. Carson [b. 1946]) or Bethany (Donald A. Hagner [b. 1936], David L. Turner [b. 1949]). The text could point to either. It is also difficult to know whether Jesus had made prior arrangements or knew supernaturally that the donkeys would be there. Either way, he deliberately plans the event as a messianic fulfillment, possibly connected with three passages: Zechariah 14:4, which prophesied Yahweh would stand on the Mount of Olives on the day of the Lord...the lion of Judah (Genesis 49:10-11, a messianic figure within Judaism) who “tethers his donkey...[and] colt” (so John Nolland [b. 1947]), and David’s return to Jerusalem (after his son Absalom...forced him to flee) on a donkey in II Samuel 15:30-31, 16:1-2 (so R.T. France [1938-2012], Stanley Hauerwas [b. 1940]). (Osborne, Matthew (Zondervan Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 753-54)

W.F. Albright (1891-1971) and C.S. Mann (b. 1917) explain the vagueness:

At first sight, this little incident is full of mystery. This account is one of many in the gospels in which the relevant circumstances were still so well known to the people when the oral tradition became fixed that they were not included. This can be very baffling for the reader in search of exact biographical detail. The high incidence of background information which is assumed or omitted as taken for granted is eloquent proof of the immediacy of the New Testament material—the transmitters of the oral tradition were not concerned beyond the immediate accuracy of transmission. (Albright and Mann, Matthew: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (The Anchor Bible), 251)

Whatever city the disciples frequent, their mission is to secure an ónos, a “donkey” (CEV, ESV, HCSB, MSG, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV) which some translations render with the more antiquated “ass” (ASV, KJV, RSV) and its colt, polos (Matthew 21:2). In this era, the donkey was bred as a beast of burden and was a prominent means of distributing goods (Matthew 21:2, 5, 7; Luke 13:15; John 12:15).

W. D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) define:

ὄνος (most often for hamôr in the LXX) means ‘donkey’ (male of female; here the latter.) πωλος (cf. ‘ayir, ‘he ass’) according to Walter Bauer [1877-1960] means ‘horse’ or, when used in conjunction with another animal, ‘young animal’. But Heinz-Wolfgang Kuhn [b. 1934]...and Otto Michel [1903-1993]...have established that the word standing by itself, can mean ‘ass’...Rabbinic literature makes the ass a messianic animal. Zechariah 9:9 was the key text in this development. It in turn arose out of the use of the ass in the ancient Near Eastern royal ceremony. I Kings 1:33 (cf. I Kings 1:38) supplies an Old Testament example: Solomon rode on David’s ass to Gihon to be anointed king (cf. II Samuel 18:9, 19:26). For the mules of nobility see Judges 5:10, 10:4, 12:13-14; II Samuel 13:29. Riding on a mule for ceremonial entry into a city is already an established act of kingship in ARM 6.76, a text from the royal archives of Mari; ANET 1, pp. 44-7, translates a Sumerian text (‘Gilgamesh and Agga’) in which those ‘who are raised with the sons of the kings’ are referred to as those who ride donkeys. (Davies and Allison, Matthew 19-28 (International Critical Commentary), 116-17)

John Nolland (b. 1947) adds:

In Mark there is a single animal.: ‘a πωλον tied up [masculine form] on which no one has ever sat’. In Matthew there is a ‘donkey tethered [female form], and a πωλον with her. πωλον is capable of a range of meanings. In secular Greek it often means ‘horse’, but it means ‘donkey’ in the Septuagint and documents showing Septuagint influence. Originally it had meant the young of an animal, and it still did in appropriate contexts. The reference to a female donkey and the quotation to come in Matthew 21:5 make clear that for Matthew πωλον means a young male donkey. (Nolland, The Gospel of Matthew (New International Greek Testament Commentary, 833)

David E. Garland (b. 1947) interprets:

It is...a royal entry. The heir of David who was to be anointed as king rode a donkey to his coronation. When Absalom’s hair got caught in the branches of a large terebinth, he was riding a donkey, which was symbolic of his claim to kingship (II Samuel 18:8). Mephibosheth rode a donkey as a symbol of his royal claim that he would make for the old house of Saul had the insurrection of Absalom succeeded (II Samuel 19:27). David, anxious to secure Solomon’s claim to the throne over that of Adonijah’s, instructs his comrades to mount Solomon on his donkey to ride to his anointing as king (I Kings 1:32-40; see also II Kings 9:13). Jesus’ approach to the city from the east, from the Mount of Olives, is also suggestive, since some expected that the messiah would come from the east, from the Jordan valley (see Josephus [37-100], Antiquities 20.8.6 § 169; Jewish War 2.13.5 § 261; Genesis Rabba 98:9; Qoheleth Rabba 1:9; Babylonian Talmud Sanhedrin 98a; 99a; and Zechariah 14:1-5). (Garland, Reading Matthew: A Literary and Theological Commentary, 213)

From this passage, some Christians have applauded the often neglected donkey. Howard Clarke (b. 1929) relays:

In the Middle Ages these biblical associations made the donkey the transportation of choice for wandering preachers. G.K. Chesteron [1874-1936] honored this humble animal in his poem “The Donkey.” After three stanzas describing how the donkey has always been ridiculed and mistreated he concludes: “Fools! For also had my hour:/One far fierce hour and sweet:/There was a shout about my ears,/And palms before my feet.” (Clarke, The Gospel of Matthew and Its Readers: A Historical Introduction to the First Gospel, 174)

Regardless of its symbolism, to its owners the more important fact is that the donkey has monetary value. Craig S. Keener (b. 1960) assesses the ass:

A donkey could cost between two months’ and two years’ wages, depending on its age and condition, but most peasants who could save enough would buy one, as they were extremely important even in small-scale farming. If a farmer had two, however, he sometimes rented one out (Naphtali Lewis [1911-2005] 1983: 130). (Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 490)

Commentators often play for humor the fact that Matthew actually implies that Jesus rides both animals simultaneously (Matthew 21:2, 5, 7). This fact has also been referenced by critics. One such skeptic was John William Gott (1866–1922), the last person in Britain to be sent to prison for blasphemy. In 1921, he was arrested and tried publicly at the Old Bailey. In response to his appeal, Lord Chief Justice Alfred Lawrence (1843-1936) wrote, “It does not require a person of strong religious feelings to be outraged by a description of Jesus Christ entering Jerusalem ‘like a circus clown on the back of two donkeys’.”

Eduard Schweizer (1913-2006) explains the purported discrepancy:

Taken literally, it speaks of a donkey and (the “and” appears only in the Septuagint) a colt (Genesis 49:11 likewise), but only because Hebrew writers often use hendiadys (cf. for example Psalms 2:1-5, 33:10-12; also Numbers 21:28; Deuteronomy 32:2; I Samuel 2:6-7; Isaiah 47:1). Matthew has thus made the Markan reference to the prophetic passage explicit and at the same time emphasized its literal fulfillment...Something similar has taken place in Matthew 27:34...and John 19:23-24. (Schewizer, The Good News according to Matthew, 404)

Many have seen the reference to Jesus riding both animals as Matthew misinterpreting Zechariah’s prophecy (Zechariah 9:9). John P. Meier (b. 1942) has even suggested that this is evidence that, contrary to tradition, the author of Matthew’s gospel is not Jewish.

Donald Senior (b. 1940) summarizes:

Meier...thinks this...shows that Matthew misunderstands the Hebrew parallelism of Zechariah 9:9 where the reference to a donkey and a colt is not to two animals, but to one. Meier contends that only someone unfamiliar with Hebrew poetic forms, and, therefore, not a Jew, would be this literal on such an insignificant detail. Therefore, Matthew was not a Jew who became a Christian but a Gentile Christian who became well versed in the Hebrew scriptures and things Jewish. (Senior, What Are They Saying About Matthew? A Revised & Expanded Edition, 16)

Others have explained the alleged discrepancy by comparing Matthew to Mark’s parallel account which notes that “no one yet has ever sat” on the animal (Mark 11:2 NASB), a detail not recorded in Matthew.

Robert H. Gundry (b. 1932) sees the two gospels as saying the same thing in different ways:

Matthew inserts ὄνον, “a donkey”, to correspond with ὄνον in his coming quotation of Zechariah 9:9 (Matthew 21:5) and to substitute for Mark’s clause “on which no man [literally ‘no one of men’] has ever sat.” As it turns out, this donkey was a mother and had been ridden. That her colt accompanied her eliminates any need to describe him as unbroken, for after being broken a colt would be taken from the mother. (Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on His Handbook for a Mixed Church under Persecution, 407)

Craig L. Blomberg (b. 1955) concurs:

Only Matthew mentions two animals. He is often accused of misinterpreting what in the Old Testament was intended to be synonymous parallelism. But irrespective of the correct reading of Zechariah 9:9, it would be natural for the mother to come along if her colt had never previously been ridden (Mark 11:2). Matthew 21:5 can easily be taken as implying that Jesus rode only on the young donkey, appropriate symbolism for his purity and holiness. (Blomberg, Matthew (New American Commentary), 312)

Bruce B. Barton (b. 1943) further defends:

Matthew highlighted the prophetic fulfillment by noting a second donkey, the colt’s mother. Jesus didn’t ride her, nor is she essential to the story. But she provides a detail of fact. Her calming presence also explains the handling of an unbroken colt. (Barton, Matthew (Life Application Bible Commentary), 406)

Robert H. Smith (1932-2006) sees the imagery as intentional:

Has Matthew misunderstood poetic parallelism? Hardly. Playfully, insistently he portrays Jesus as the pluperfect fulfillment of prophecy. And he pictures Jesus the way ancient oriental gods and kings are frequently depicted: enthroned above a pair of animals. He comes meek but royal nonetheless. (Smith, Matthew (Augsburg Commentary on the New Testament), 61)

The disciples are instructed to take the animal and, if confronted, respond with a cryptic line befitting a cloak and dagger caper: “The Lord has need of them.” (Matthew 21:3 NASB). The implication is that this answer will be sufficient and there will no questions asked. Jesus’ word is sufficient.

The intended meaning of “the Lord” is replete with potential interpretations. Some have even viewed it as a codeword. Leon Morris (1914-2006) details:

“Lord” is patient of more than one meaning. It could mean the owner of the animals, but against this is the fact that, though Luke has the same expression at this point, a little later he says that the owners (“lords”) questioned the disciples when they came for the animal; there was more than one owner, and the owners were with the donkey, not where the donkey was to go. It could mean God, for the animal was to be used in God’s service, but it is not easy to see how those standing near the donkey could have understood this. Another possibility is that “Lord” means himself...if this is the way of it, we should notice that he says “the” Lord, not simply “our” Lord; it is the Lord of all that is in mind. This cannot be ruled out, but Jesus did not usually apply this word to himself. All in all it seems better to understand the words as a prearranged password. This means that Jesus had somehow made arrangement with the owners of the animals. None of the Evangelists gives any indication who the owners were or how the arrangement was made. But that it was made shows clearly that Jesus has had more dealing in and around Jerusalem tan Matthew has so far indicated. (Morris, The Gospel according to Matthew (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 519-20)

John Proctor (b. 1952) adds:

The fetching of the donkey has the feel of a royal command, as of the king commandeers any animal he needs. But it much more likely reflects an agreement with a sympathetic local contact. Even so, there is a curiously cryptic feel to the matter—almost like something out of a spy novel—and it may be that Jesus was even now being careful and how and where he attracted attention. (Proctor, Matthew (Daily Bible Commentary: A Guide for Reflection and Prayer), 170)

As Jesus asks his followers to take property they do not own, the legality of Jesus’ request has been addressed. Craig S. Keener (b. 1960) reflects:

The response testifies first of all to the man’s respect for Jesus: rulers (as Jesus is here) and officials could impress animals (Sallust [86-25 BCE], Jugurthine War. 75.4; Richard A. Burridge [b. 1955] 1994: 54); Jewish teachers (as the man presumably regards Jesus) could also borrow animals among those who respected the, (J. Duncan M. Derrett [b. 1922] 1971). (Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 490)

Robert H. Gundry (b. 1932) reminds that a king may commandeer a donkey any time he pleases:

“And if anyone should say anything to you” is indefinite and ambiguous both as to possibility and content, and the succeeding verses will say nothing about anyone’s saying anything to the two disciples when they untie the animals. So the entire stress lies on Jesus’ telling the disciples to call him the animals’ “owner” in saying he needs them. “Owner” translates the word otherwise translated “Lord” and therefore alludes to Jesus’ lordship. As Lord, his ownership of the animals obliterates anyone else’s owning them and gives him the right to use them. Matthew includes nothing about Jesus’ returning the animals. So the stress stays on his divine ownership of them (contrast Mark 11:3). And their being sent to Jesus by the possible “anyone.” underlined with “immediately,” caps the stress on his owning them. (Gundry, Commentary on Matthew)

Jesus’ memorable procession into Jerusalem has historical precedent, many with similarities to Christ’s. Craig A. Evans (b. 1952) chronicles:

Jesus’ celebrated entry is one of as many as twelve similar entries, as recorded in I and II Maccabees and in Josephus [37-100]. These entries follow a more or less fixed pattern. Entries involving major figures include Alexander [356-323 BE], who enters Jerusalem, is greeted with ceremony, and is escorted into the city, where he participates in cultic activity (Antiquities 11.325-39); Apollonius, who enters Jerusalem accompanied by torches and shouts (II Maccabees 4:21-22); Judas Maccabeus, who returns home from a military victory and is greeted with hymns and “praising God” (I Maccabees 4:19-25; Josephus, Antiquities 12.312); Judas Maccabeus again, this time returning from battle and entering Jerusalem amidst singing and merrymaking, followed by sacrifice (I Maccabees 5:45-54; Antiquities 12.348-49); Jonathan, brother of Judas Maccabeus, who is greeted by the men of Askalon “with great pomp” (I Maccabees 10:86); Simon, brother of Judas Maccabeus, who enters Gaza, expels idolatrous inhabitants, cleanses idolatrous houses, and enters the city with “hymns and praise” (I Maccabees 13:43-48); Simon, brother of Judas Maccabeus, again, ths time entering Jerusalem, where he is met by crowds “with praise and palm branches, and with harps and cymbals and stringed instruments and with hymns and songs” (I Maccabees 13:49-41); Antigonus [382-301 BCE], who with pomp enters Jerusalem and then the temple precincts, but with so much pomp and self-importance he is criticized by some for imagining that he himself was “king” (Jewish Wars 1.73-74; Antiquities 13.304-6); Marcus Agrippa [64-12 BCE], who enters Jerusalem, is met by Herod, and is welcomed by the people with acclamations (Antiquities 16.12-15); and Archelaus, [23 BCE-18 CE] who, hoping to confirm his kingship, journeys to enters Jerusalem amidst acclamation and his procession (Antiquities 17.194-239). (Evans, Matthew (New Cambridge Bible Commentary), 357-58)

In light of this history, for once Jesus does something that might be expected of the long awaited Messiah. And as usual, he will turn this expectation on its head. And one way he does this is with his ride of choice: the donkey.

Entering riding a donkey is unique and Jesus is undeniably intentional about its selection. D.A. Carson (b. 1946) comments:

The distinguishing feature of the synoptic accounts, as opposed to John 12, is that Jesus arranged for the ride. The applause and the crowds were not manipulated; they would have occurred in any case. But the ride on a colt, because it was planned, could only be an acted parable, a deliberate act of symbolic self-disclosure for those with eyes to see or, after the resurrection, with memories by which to remember and integrate the events of the preceding weeks and years. Secrecy was being lifted. (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] and David E. Garland [b. 1947], Matthew and Mark (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary), 493-94)

R.T. France (1938-2012) accedes:

Jesus’ ride was a matter of deliberate choice, and indeed probably of careful planning, rather than a matter of necessity. Among a crowd of pilgrims on foot the rider on the donkey intended to be noticed and expected his supporters to draw the appropriate conclusion. He can not have been surprised or displeased when they did. Such a deliberately provocative approach to the city is also consistent with the equally public and provocative action which Jesus was to take on his arrival in the temple area (Matthew 21:12-13). Among the Passover crowds coming into the city it would have been impossible for Jesus and his disciples to arrive without drawing attention to themselves, but Jesus has not come to slip quietly into Jerusalem. (France, The Gospel of Matthew (New International Commentary on the New Testament), 774)

If riding this donkey was so important to Jesus, why does he not secure it himself? Why does Jesus choose to enter Jerusalem riding a donkey? What do you associate with this animal? What would you have named the donkey? When have you wanted to make a grand entrance? What is the best entrance you have ever witnessed? Who would you lend something valuable to, no questions asked? When have you gone to great lengths to create the proper ambiance for an event? Does Jesus stage anything elsewhere in his ministry? Why now? Why is this event so important? What message is he attempting to convey?

Larry Chouinard (b. 1948) surmises:

It is doubtful...that Jesus’ instructions for obtaining a donkey were simply to secure transportation for the final two miles of his journey. Rather, it appears that Jesus intends to deliberately stage the manner of his entrance into Jerusalem in terms of the prophetic expectations of Zechariah 9:9. Thereby, his entrance becomes a prophetic act which implicitly makes a Christological statement. The focus of the account is upon the Lord’s foreknowledge and sovereign awareness of his conformity to God’s will as expressed in Old Testament prophecies (Chouinard, Matthew (The College Press NIV Commentary), 366)

Thomas G. Long (b. 1946) agrees:

Matthew is conveying a theological truth here, and he risks the somewhat improbable picture of Jesus straddling two beasts in order to make his point: King Jesus’ humble entrance into Jerusalem was, in the deepest sense, a fulfillment of God’s intent to save humanity as declared in Scripture. (Long, Matthew (Westminster Bible Companion), 235)

A large factor in Jesus’ rationale for riding a donkey is its consistency with Zechariah 9:9. Douglas R.A. Hare (b. 1929) deciphers:

It may very well have been an “acted parable” in which Jesus consciously acted out the prophecy of Zechariah by riding into the holy city on a donkey. While it was customary for pilgrims to arrive by foot, his action would have seemed only slightly unusual to outsiders. According to John 12:16, not even the disciples perceived the event as the fulfillment of prophecy until after the resurrection... In Matthew’s account the underlying prophecy is not only explicitly quoted but is placed before the event to emphasize that Jesus actively fulfills the messianic prophecy. (Hare, Matthew (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 237-38)

Matthew stresses the prophetic association by inserting a fulfillment citation (Matthew 21:4-5); John’s gospel makes a similar reference (John 12:14-15). Matthew introduces the verse with the usual prefixed formula for Old Testament testimony. Though it captures the verse’s meaning well, the gospel’s rendering of Zechariah 9:9 is neither an exact match of the Hebrew or the Greek and it is conflated with introductory words from Isaiah 62:11.

Robert H. Mounce (b. 1921) acknowledges:

Matthew identifies this event as a fulfillment of a prophecy by Zechariah that Israel’s king will come gentle and riding on a donkey. The first line of the quotation (which Matthew says was spoken through the prophet, singular) comes from Isaiah 62:11 and the rest from Zechariah 9:9. Eduard Schweizer [1913-2006] says this is “constant with rabbinic hermeneutics, in which a passage containing the same word as another serves to interpret the latter”...Of interest is the omission from Zechariah of the descriptive phrase “righteous and having salvation.” It appears that Matthew was interested mainly in emphasizing the humility of the Messiah. (Mounce, Matthew New International Biblical Commentary)

Stuart K. Weber (b. 1945) provides an overview of Zechariah’s original context:

Zechariah 9 begins an oracle predicting the destruction of all Israel’s enemies and the ensuing peace in Jerusalem. All of Israel’s chariots, war horses, and battle instruments would be taken away (Zechariah 9:10), and Jerusalem’s king would enter peacefully, “righteous and having salvation” (Zechariah 9:9). The king would be gentle, since there was no longer any need for war, and he would arrive by the humble means of a donkey. (Weber, Matthew (Holman New Testament Commentary), 362)

Stanley D. Toussaint (b. 1928) analyzes:

Rather than use the first clauses of Zechariah 9:9, Matthew introduces the Zechariah passage with a phrase from Isaiah 62:11, “Say to the daughter of Zion.” The Zechariah passage actually has, “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout in triumph, O daughter of Jerusalem.” But this would not fit into Matthew’s argument since Jerusalem failed to recognize its King. Jerusalem had to have its King pointed out; therefore the Evangelist substitutes the words of Isaiah to give the passage more meaning. “The substitution is interpretive.” (Toussaint, Behold the King: A Study of Matthew, 238)

Brendan Byrne (b. 1939) concurs:

The text quoted from Zechariah 9:9 omits the epithets “triumphant and victorious is he,” so as to focus all attention on “humble” (Greek praus) and on the mode of transport. (Byrne, Lifting the Burden: Reading Matthew’s Gospel in the Church Today, 158)

This stress on humility is well represented in eastern iconogaphy which depicts Jesus riding the donkey side saddle, a style associated with a woman not a warrior (pictured).

R.T. France (1938-2012) asserts that the original audience would have gleaned Jesus’ meaning:

Even without an explicit quotation of that prophecy in the text, any Jewish reader of the story could hardly fail to be reminded of it and of the royal ideology which underlies it. Zechariah’s prophecy of a humble and peaceful king coming to Jerusalem “vindicated and saved” is based on the story of David’s return to the city after the defeat of Absalom’s rebellion, when he came in triumph as king, and yet humbly and in peace (II Samuel 19:1-20:22). When the Son of David chose to ride down to the city from the Mount of Olives on a donkey, the acted allusion was unmistakable...Zechariah’s prophecy pictures David retracing his outward route over the Mount of Olives (II Samuel 15:30) and riding on the donkey which has been provided for him in II Samuel 16:1-2. A donkey is a suitable mount for a king, but only for a king in time of peace. (France, The Gospel of Matthew (New International Commentary on the New Testament), 773-74)

Stanley P. Saunders (b. 1953) sees many layers to Jesus’ insistence on the donkey:

This image is sometimes regarded as Matthew’s clumsy, literalistic misreading of the Hebrew parallelism in Zechariah 9:9. It is, rather, a deliberate literary device–the kind that works best in oral presentations. It signals: (a) Jesus’ royal, messianic identity as Son of David (the donkey is associated with coronations of kings, cf. I Kings 1:33-48); (b) Jesus’ identification with what is meek or humble (Matthew 21:5; cf. Matthew 5:5,11:29)...(c) Matthew’s identification of Jesus with Moses (Moses rides a donkey in Exodus 4:19-20; cf. Matthew 2:19-21); and (d) a strong affirmation of Jesus’ fulfillment of the messianic vision of Zechariah 9-14 (cf. Matthew 21:12-13, 26:15-16, 26:26-29, 26:30-35, 27:3-10, 27:51-53), where the messiah not only restores Israel and shatters her enemies, but brings peace to the nations and sets prisoners free (Zechariah 9:9-11). (Saunders, Preaching the Gospel of Matthew: Proclaiming God’s Presence, 208)

Riding the donkey sends the message not only that Jesus is a king but also conveys the type of king he is. Stanley Hauerwas (b. 1940) determines:

Jesus identifies himself as Lord, but one that will ride on ass, a creature not normally associated with what it means to be a king. Victors in battle do not tide into their capital cities on asses, but rather they ride on fearsome horses. But this king does not and will not triumph through force of arms. (Hauerwas, Matthew (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 181)

Jesus presents himself as a new type of conquering hero, a nonviolent one. George Martin (b. 1939) details:

Pilgrims normally entered Jerusalem on foot, but Jesus will ride into Jerusalem like the king in Zechariah’s prophecy to indicate that he is not a warrior messiah bent on establishing an earthly kingdom. Jesus is “meek and humble of heart” (Matthew 11:29), not a man of violence (Matthew 12:19-20); he forbids his disciples from following the way of violence (Matthew 5:38-39, 26:51-52). (Martin, Bringing the Gospel of Matthew To Life: Insight & Inspiration, 437)

Myron S. Augsburger (b. 1929) notes:

Jesus entered Jerusalem not on a white charger, but on a lowly beast of burden, not on a horse as a symbol of power, but on a colt of an ass as a symbol of humility. He is the peaceful King of the people of God, not a revolutionary with political interest (Isaiah 11:1-2). Note the care with which Matthew stresses identity: the identity of the location, the identity of a colt rather than a white charger, the identity with Old Testament prophecy (Matthew 21:4-5), the identity in the cry of the crowd (Psalm 118:26), and the identity as the prophet from Nazareth (Matthew 21:11). (Augsburger, Matthew (The Preacher’s Commentary), 227)

All together Jesus uses the donkey to make a grand statement. Frederick Dale Bruner (b. 1932) asserts:

There are two closely related and yet contrasting points here. (1) In this story...Jesus, as it were, “comes out of the closet” and publicly acknowledges his Messiahship. (2) Yet by choosing a donkey for this “confession,” Jesus perfectly illustrates his modest Messiahship. Thus was have another text in which the two great truths about Jesus are illumined — what early theologians called the doctrine of the two natures (Jesus’ true identity and true humanity) or what modern exegesis calls the authority and lowliness of Jesus. (Bruner, The Churchbook: Matthew 13-28,353)

The donkey provides a striking image and serves to parody the expected regal processions. As usual, Jesus flips the script. Mike Graves and David M. May (b. 1958) conclude:

If we choose to retain the “Triumphal Entry” title, we must do so with the greatest sense of irony. This entry by Jesus into Jerusalem is unlike any other triumphant processional familiar to first-century people. If it is triumph, then we need to accept Matthew’s definition of triumph. It is not an imperial Roman grand propaganda parade heaping accolades on a king/warrior for the successful incorporation of another province into the empire that was Rome. It was a parade, certainly, but not that type of parade. The sad-eyed man riding into Jerusalem on a donkey that day was leading a funeral parade—his own. (Graves and May, Preaching Matthew: Interpretation and Proclamation , 76)

Warren Carter (b. 1955) adds:

Jesus’ meekness consisting of compassion and service challenges such a power structure. His act of entering the city employs some features of the entrance processions and triumphs in order to contrast or reframe them, to parody them with a very different vision of human interaction. Jesus rides a donkey, not an intimidating warhorse representative of strategies to dominate and exploit, an everyday common beast and one that was often a symbol used by Gentiles to deride and scorn Jews (Josephus [37-100], Contra Apion 2.80-88, 112-20; Tacitus [56-117], Histories 5.3-4). He is not welcomed by the city’s leadership with escort speeches, only by his followers. And he is a very different sort of king, meek not triumphant, a compassionate servant not a powerful imperial official. (Carter, Matthew and Empire: Initial Explorations, 129)

Most Christians would prefer the Jesus who rides in on a white horse as seen in the Bible’s final book (Revelation 19:11). But Jesus enters Jerusalem as the Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6), not to abolish Rome. And he conveys this sentiment through his ride. In this way, Jesus’ donkey speaks more than Balaam’s famed talking donkey without ever saying a word (Numbers 22:28).

If you had to make a grand entrance on a major thoroughfare and had any vehicle at your disposal, what transportation would you choose? How would Jesus enter Jerusalem in our time? Did the original audience grasp Jesus’ intent? Do we?

“There were only a few shepherds at the first Bethlehem. The ox and the donkey understood more of the first Christmas than the high priests in Jerusalem. And it is the same today.” - Thomas Merton (1913-1968)

Camels and Needles (Matthew 19:24)

Complete: “It is harder for a ____ man to enter heaven than for a _____ to go through the eye of a ______.” Rich, camel, needle (Matthew 19:24)

Late in his ministry, Jesus is approached by an unnamed man in Judea who has come to be known as the “rich young ruler” (Matthew 19:16-22). The wealthy man asks Jesus, “Teacher, what good thing shall I do that I may obtain eternal life?” (Matthew 19:16). He leaves the encounter saddened when Jesus suggests that he liquidate all of his assets and give the funds to the poor (Matthew 19:21-22). After the man exits the scene, Jesus capitalizes on the teachable moment, remarking to his disciples about the high degree of difficulty for a rich person “to enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 19:23). Not content to leave the issue, Jesus then intensifies his thought with an analogy using familiar objects (Matthew 19:24). He quips:

“Again I say to you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” (Matthew 19:24 NASB)

The repetition underscores the thought as though Jesus uses “again” 17 times in Matthew, he does so only twice in conjunction with the emphatic preface “I say to you” (Matthew 18:19, 19:24). Jesus’ colorful illustration is not only an attention grabber; more importantly it advances the task he describes from being difficult (Matthew 19:23) to impossible (Matthew 19:24-26).

Jesus’ words are comparable to philosophers who have contended that wealth prevents the study of their field (e.g. Plutarch [45-120], De Cupidate Diviarum 526; Seneca the Younger [4 BCE-65 CE], Epistles 17.3). In 178 CE, Celsus, who produced the earliest comprehensive attack on Christianity, claimed that Jesus took the idea from Plato (427-347 BCE) who had written that it was impossible for a good man to be rich (Laws V.743a).

As he commonly did, Jesus incorporates hyperbole, contrasting the smallest aperture with the largest beast of burden known to the region. The big animal simply cannot squeeze through the small hole. Californian evangelist “Sister” Aimee Semple McPherson (1890-1944) used a live camel to demonstrate this point in one of her “illustrated sermons” in 1925.

John Proctor (b. 1952) expounds:

The camel is a fine long-distance runner on sand, but a total non-starter when it comes to sliding through narrow openings. Jesus seems to have found its irregular shape splendidly bizarre (see also Matthew 23:24), and here he offers the ridiculous picture of using a camel to thread a needle. All the probabilities are stacked against success. Rich Christians need a special kind of grace and wisdom, to steward humbly and generously what they have been given. (Proctor, Matthew: A Guide for Reflection and Prayer (Daily Bible Commentary), 163)

Though striking, the image is not entirely unique. Craig S. Keener (b. 1960) comments:

Camels were common beasts of burden among traveling Arabs...known for their strength...but not particularly for gracefulness...Jesus apparently employs a common figure of speech when he speaks of a camel passing through a needle’s eye. In Babylonia, where the largest land animals were elephants (cf. Achilles Tatius Leucippe and Clitophon 4.3.5; Lucian [125-180] Lover of Lies 24), Jewish teachers could depict what was impossible or close to impossible as “an elephant passing through a needle’s eye” (Babylonian Talmud Berakot 55b; Babylonian Talmud Baba Mesi‘a. 38b). In Palestine, where the largest land animal and beast of burden was a camel (cf. Matthew 23:24; Babylonian Talmud Ketubbot 67a), describing the impossible as a “camel passing through a needle’s eye” may have been a common expression as well. (Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 477)

The temptation to tame Jesus always exists and this text has been mitigated often as many theories have been posited which soften Jesus’ words. One way this has been done is on linguistic grounds as a few manuscripts have the textual variant kamilon (“rope”) instead of its homonym kamelon (“camel”). This transforms the subject from a large animal to the cable used to tie a ship to a dock.

W. D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) explain:

A few manuscripts (e.g. 59 61) and versions (e.g. Armenian, Georgian) have the similar-sounding κάμιλος = ‘rope’ or ‘ship’s cable’; so also a scholion attributed to Origen [184-253] (cf. G.W.H. Lampe [1912-1980], s.v.), and Cyril of Alexandria [387-444], Commentary on Luke 123; Theophylact [1050-1107] and Euthymius Zigabenus [12th century] mention this as the opinion of ‘some’...The same result has been obtained in modern times via conjectures about the original Aramaic. (Davies and Allison, Matthew 19-28 (International Critical Commentary), 51)

R.T. France (1938-2012) rejects this hypothesis:

The later substitution of kamilon, “rope” or “cable,” for kamēlon, “camel,” ...is not attested in Greek before this time, and Henry George Liddell [1811-1898], Robert Scott [1811-1887] and Henry Stuart Jones [1867-1939] suggest that it may have been coined in an attempt to evade the sense of this text. But if so, it was not a very clever attempt, since it is hardly less ludicrous to attempt to put a cable through the eye of a needle than it is a camel. (France, The Gospel of Matthew (New International Commentary on the New Testament), 738)

Though few modern commentators accept it, the most widely circulated mitigating of the expression claims that it refers to a small door in the gate of a walled eastern city known as “the eye of the needle”. Such openings allowed pedestrians to enter a city without the need for the large gates to be opened as they would have been for a camel train. It has been posited that a camel might be forced through such a gate, albeit with difficulty. This reading has been spiritualized further by notions that in order to do so, the camel need be stripped of its load.

The theory is decidedly late, being first attested in the Middle Ages by Theophylact of Ohrid (1055-1107). Despite there being no evidence for such a claim, even today locals present the “site” of this gate to unsuspecting pilgrims in the Holy Land.

David E. Garland (b. 1947) refutes:

There is no basis for the widely circulated tradition that the eye of the needle was the name of a gate in Jerusalem. Walled cities had smaller gates beside or built into a larger gate so that people could enter when the larger gate was closed. Large animals might be able to squeeze through such a gate...Luke uses a different word in Greek for “needle (belonē, Luke 18:25), than Mark (raphis). If a gate has been known as “The Needle’s Eye,” it seems likely that only one Greek term would have been used. (Clinton E. Arnold [b. 1958], (Matthew, Mark, Luke (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 63)

Even if there were such a gate, context clearly dictates that Jesus is illumining something that is impossible not merely difficult (Matthew 19:25-26). Church father Jerome (347-420) concluded: “one impossibility is compared with another (Against the Pelagians 1.10).”

Watering down Jesus’ teaching is not only inaccurate, it is dangerous. Frederick Dale Bruner (b. 1932) warns:

The vice of the teaching that says, “the needle’s eye is a low gate in the Middle East that camels must stoop to enter” is that it tells the well-to-do that by acts of humility they can get into the kingdom, that they can keep their comforts and even continue their drive for financial enrichment if they will only be a little humble in the process. This teaching turns Jesus’ teaching in its head — it teaches how to be covetous and Christian at the same time. “The fact that such minimizing interpretations [as the cable or the gate] have been thought up is itself an eloquent comment on the passage”. (Bruner, The Churchbook: Matthew 13-28, 305)

The remark is also an exemplar of Jesus’ humor, serving as a one-liner or punchline. Lessening its force spoils Jesus’ joke. Christian humorist Grady Nutt (1934-1982) observes:

Humor is the capacity to describe. It takes the tangible and uses it to picture—to parable—the intangible. “It is more difficult for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God than for a camel to go through the eye of a needle”...Jesus was called teacher more often than by any other title. Humor, parable, description were the basic tools of his trade. (Nutt, So Good, So Far, 143)

In his book, The Humor of Christ, Elton Trueblood (1900-1994) acknowledges:

Of all the mistakes we make in regard to the humor of Christ, perhaps the worst mistake is our failure, or our unwillingness, to recognize that Christ deliberately used preposterous statements to get His point across. When we take a deliberately preposterous statement and, from a false sense of piety, try to force some literal truth out of it, the result is often grotesque. The playful, when interpreted with humorless seriousness, becomes ridiculous. An excellent illustration of this is a frequent handling of the gigantic dictum about the rich man and the needle’s eye. (Trueblood, The Humor of Christ, 46-47)

Jesus’ image is intended to be outlandish. Absurd juxtaposition is actually characteristic of his teaching, e.g. Matthew 23:24 refers to the equally ridiculous swallowing of a camel.

N.T. Wright (b. 1948) examines:

Jesus often exaggerates hugely to make his point. It’s like saying, ‘You couldn’t get a Rolls-Royce into a matchbox.’ The point is not that you might achieve it if you tried very hard, or that there was a particular type of small garage called a ‘matchbox’; the point is precisely that it’s unthinkable. That’s the moment when all human calculations and possibilities stop, and God’s new possibilities start. (Wright, Matthew For Everyone: Part Two, 53)

It is not surprising that so much effort has been made to soften a statement of Jesus’ that is critical of the economic elite. Most of us want to be rich and instinctively reject any deterrent to this aim.

Theologian Stanley Hauerwas (b. 1940) interprets:

Our temptation is to think that Jesus’s reply is intended to “let us off the hook.” Being rich is a problem, we may think, but God will take care of us, the rich, the only way God can. Yet such a response fails to let the full weight of Jesus’s observation about wealth have the effect it should. We cannot serve God and mammon (Matthew 6:24). Jesus’s reply challenges not only our wealth, but out very conception of salvation. To be saved, to be made a member of the church through baptism, means that our lives are no longer our own. We are made vulnerable to one another in a manner such that what is ours can no longer be free the claims of others. As hard as it may be to believe, Jesus makes clear that salvation entails our being made vulnerable through the loss of our possessions. (Hauerwas, Matthew (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible),174)

The term “rich” need not be limited to its traditional monetary connotation. Myron S. Augsburger (b. 1929) advises:

We can paraphrase “rich man” to mean “man of privilege” in our application, for riches are not all material. It may be easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a professor, a doctor, a lawyer, a bishop, a nurse, a teacher, a businessman, etc., to get involved in the kingdom of heaven now! In any position of privilege there is the danger that the status and power become primary. In T.S. Eliot (1888-1965)’s play Murder in the Cathedral there is the line, “They who serve the greater cause have the greater danger of the cause serving them.” (Augsburger, Matthew (Mastering the New Testament), 230)

This passage should put modern readers on the defensive as we need not be wealthy by the standards of society to be deemed “rich”.

Is it possible for a camel to go through the eye of a needle? Why have commentators historically tried so hard to soften Jesus’ phrasing? Have you ever said something in jest only to have had it interpreted literally? How do you think that Jesus would word this thought today? Do you consider yourself rich? How do you define “rich”? Is the intent of this passage to discourage wealth? Why is it so hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven? What obstacles does wealth present?

Though the saying is featured in all three Synoptic gospels (Matthew 19:24; Mark 10:25; Luke 18:25), only in Matthew are the disciples said to be “very astonished” by it (Matthew 19:25). The counterintuitive claim shocks their sensibilities. Unlike many modern preachers, Jesus rejects the presumption that prosperity is synonymous with divine blessing.

Then, as now, wealth was generally regarded as a mark of God’s favor (Psalm 1:3). Charles H. Talbert (b. 1934) analyzes:

The disciples’ astonishment is due to the widely held belief that wealth was a sign of righteousness and virtue...For the pagan world, note Seneca the Elder [54 BCE-39 CE]’s claim that wealth reflects a person’s virtue (Controversies 2.1.17). From the Jewish side see Deuteronomy 28:1-14, which says that if Israel is loyal to the covenant with Yahweh, the Lord will make them abound in prosperity (see also Psalm 112:3; Proverbs 3:13-16, 8:12-18; Song of Solomon 5:16-18; Philo [20 BCE--50 CE], On the Migration of Abraham 18.104). No text is clearer than Job. The books says that Job is righteous (Job 1:8) and his household’s wealth a divine blessing (Job 1:10). When Job loses his wealth, his friends Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar interpret his loss of wealth as punishment for sin. If one is virtuous or righteous, so the assumption goes, then one will be wealthy. If wealth is a mark of righteousness, then the disciples’ question makes sense. (Talbert, Matthew (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament), 237)

Where the populace saw riches as a manifestation of divine blessing, Jesus viewed wealth as a hindrance to spiritual progress. In many ways, Jesus is merely returning to the basics of his preaching ministry from the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:3, 6:24).

Michael Green (b. 1930) characterizes:

Money tends to make us selfish, materialistic, independent of God and of our fellows, and distracted with methods of retaining our wealth. Wealth leads to an overconfidence which is the very antithesis of the childlike spirit of trusting dependence on the goodness and mercy of God. It is perfectly evident. It had just happened in front of their eyes, in the person of the rich young man. Wealth was something Jesus set his own face against. Christians who have great possessions are in great peril. (Green, The Message of Matthew (Bible Speaks Today), 209)

Thomas G. Long (b. 1946) speculates:

If we take at face value the statements of the rich young man, it is not that he is an evil man, an oppressor, or an extortioner...The problem with this man is not that he is dishonorable; the problem is that he is rich. The problem is not with the evil he has done to others, but with the evil his wealth is doing to him. Because he is rich, it is hard for him to surrender to God. He finds it painfully difficult to become humble like a child. His wealth reinforces his commitment to the present age and to his own status in it; his wealth underscores his self-sufficiency...Being rich...simply intensifies the basic human desire for self-justification. The disciples, who are not rich, quickly realize that Jesus is speaking about more than the moneyed rich: Jesus’ word embraces all those who, in any way, are rich unto themselves—in short, the whole of humanity...The kingdom calls for total surrender to the will of God, a demand forever defeated by human pride and self-sufficiency. (Long, Matthew (Westminster Bible Companion), 222)

For Jesus’ disciples the thought is startlingly horrific and for once, the disciples get the point exactly; often more so than many modern readers. The disciples ask the question we might: “Then who can be saved?” (Matthew 19:25).

Douglas R.A. Hare (b. 1929) notes:

While this statement [Matthew 19:24] may strike us as an exaggeration, it does not astonish us as much as the disciples’ response: “Who then can be saved?” Why are they so dumbfounded? None of them were wealthy. Why should they regard the problem of the rich as engulfing them all? Here we must remember that the young man has been presented as a model citizen: decent, law-abiding, charitable, and religious. His wealth signifies to the disciples that he has been blessed by God. If such a person is not acceptable to God, what hope is there for the rest of us?...By grace and grace alone, can we be admitted to the kingdom. While the impediment facing the wealthy is particularly serious, it is present to all. Even poor people insist on defining themselves and others by what they possess (or lack). The world is too much with us, and we become “old” too soon. How can we turn and become children of God’s world? For us this is impossible, but with God all things are possible (Matthew 19:26). (Hare, Matthew (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 228)

David E. Garland (b. 1947) concludes:

The key point..has to do with the more general issue that is raised by the disciples’ astonished question, “Who then can be saved?” (Matthew 19:25). Jesus; answer is that salvation does not come from human resources but from God alone. The young man asked, What good thing shall I do? (Matthew 19:16) and insisted, “All these things I have observed, what I still lack.” He assumes that entering into the kingdom of heaven is something that he can bid for and pull off on his own (see Matthew 8:19). Whether one is rich or poor, salvation does not come from human achievement but is a gift from God to those who follow Jesus. Only God’s gift of a new heart (Jeremiah 31:33; Ezekiel 36:26) will enable radical obedience. (Garland, Reading Matthew: A Literary and Theological Commentary on the First Gospel, 207)

Jesus fully understood humanity’s fundamental problem: we are incapable of saving ourselves. The encounter with the rich young ruler is immediately preceded by Jesus’ call to become a child (Matthew 19:13-15). Children do not operate with an assumption of self-sufficiency and grasping the need for dependence is critical as salvation is impossible for humans to produce. But only for humans.

Impossible is not in God’s vocabulary. With God all things are possible (Genesis 18:14; Job 42:2; Zechariah 8:6; Matthew 19:26; Mark 10:27; Luke 1:37, 18:27). That God can squeeze a camel through the eye of a needle is evidenced at the conclusion of Matthew’s gospel when Jesus is assisted by Joseph of Arimathea (Matthew 27:57). Joseph is a rich man who appears to have found his way squarely within the confines of the kingdom of heaven.

How is Matthew 19:24 good news? Does Jesus’ statement astonish you? Do you typically interpret a person’s wealth as being indicative of blessing? Is it any harder for a rich person to gain admittance to the kingdom of heaven than a poor person? If not, why does Jesus underscore wealth in this passage? What do you value more: spiritual or financial growth (Matthew 6:24)?

“It’s kind of fun to do the impossible.” - Walt Disney (1901-1966)

You Are What You Eat? (Matthew 3:4)

What did John the Baptist eat in the wilderness? Locusts and wild honey.

John the Baptist appears in all four gospels as a forerunner to Jesus (Matthew 3:1; Mark 1:4; Luke 3:2; John 1:6). He is presented as an eccentric. Matthew and Mark include John’s diet among his idiosyncracies (Matthew 3:4; Mark 1:6).

Now John himself had a garment of camel’s hair and a leather belt around his waist; and his food was locusts and wild honey. (Matthew 3:4 NASB)

John subsisted on the seemingly odd combination of locusts and wild honey. Unlike his astringent dress (Matthew 3:4; Mark 1:6), John’s diet does not constitute an Old Testament allusion. The fact that John’s dietary practices are documented in Scripture is more peculiar than the items he chooses to eat. These provisions were not unusual fare for people living in the desert.

While honey is not an abnormal food to most western readers, locusts are cringe worthy to some. While modern translations almost universally render akris as “locusts” (ASV, ESV, HCSB, KJV, MSG, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV, RSV) or “grasshoppers” (CEV) there was once a prominent theory that John actually ate carob seeds. Carob seeds were prominent in the period, used as the standard measure of weight for gems and precious metals.

Scientists O.N. Allen (1905-1976) and Ethel K. Allen (1908-2006) explain the connection:

Some commentators are of the opinion that the “locusts” eaten by John the Baptist...were carob pods and not insects. An error is believed to have occurred whereby a transcriber substituted the Hebrew g for the r in the word “cherev”; this changed the word in translation to “locust” from “carob” (Harold Norman Moldenke [1906-1996] and Alma L. Moldenke [1908-1997] 1952). Accordingly, the tree was known as “Johannis brodbaum,” or St.-John’s-bread, in the Middle Ages. (Allen and Allen, The Leguminosae: A Source Book of Characteristics, Uses and Nodulation, 156)

There is now a consensus that John did indeed dine on migratory locusts. W.D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) write authoritatively, “There is no need to speculate that ‘locusts’ might mean something else, such as carob pods or dried fruit (Davies and Allison, Matthew: A Shorter Commentary, 39).”

Though John is the only Biblical character explicitly said to have eaten locusts, they are presented as ritually clean food in both the Old Testament (Leviticus 11:22) and rabbinic law (m. Hullin 8:1; m. Ta’anit 4:7). Though wild honey is referenced in the Old Testament, there are no Scriptural regulations regarding its consumption (Genesis 43:11; Exodus 3:8; Deuteronomy 32:13; Judges 14:8; I Samuel 14:25; Psalm 81:16; Ezekiel 27:17).

Locusts are unique in the Levitical law. John Nolland (b. 1947) notes:

Leviticus 11:20-23 distinguishes locusts as the only winged insects not to be treated as unclean. Their use as food is also noted in other ancient sources, notably among other wilderness dwellers at Qumran (CD 12:14). ‘Wild honey’ is presumably that produced in the wild without any role for a beekeeper...Though it is true that locusts did not count as meat (m. Hul. 8:1), any discussion of vegetarianism or oaths of abstinence, or any insistence that John has distanced himself from the sacrificial cult of the temple, is out of place here: Matthew makes no claim here that on principle he refused all food items other than locusts and wild honey. (Nolland, The Gospel of Matthew (New International Greek Testament Commentary), 139)

Locusts are still eaten in parts of the world and there are many ways to prepare them. They can be cooked in salt-water, roasted on coals, and are often dried and ground into flour.

R.T. France (1938-2012) examines:

Locusts...are still eaten by those in whose lands they flourish. Pierre Bonnard (1911-2003)...speaks with remarkable authority on the subject: “This insect was highly prized as nourishment, either in water and salt like our prawns, or dried in the sun and preserved in honey and vinegar, or powdered and mixed with wheat flour into a pancake.” (France, The Gospel of Matthew (New International Commentary on the New Testament), 106)

John’s food supply was abundant as all of it could be found in the wilderness in which he dwelled. Josephus (37-100) refers to an ampleness of bees in the region and locusts remain an important food source in many regions because they are prevalent even in the most desolate areas.

While many may find locusts unappetizing, William Shakespeare (1564-1616)’s Othello includes the line, “The food that...is as luscious as locusts (Act 1, Scene 3).” Perhaps not surprisingly, locusts do have many health benefits.

James A. Kelhoffer (b. 1970) catalogs:

Although perhaps unknown to the eaters, maybe the most significant benefit of eating locusts (and many other insects) is that they are a rich source of protein, and therefore plentiful in calories as well. Dried locusts comprise “up to 75 per cent protein and about 20 per cent fat; 100 grams of locust, when analyzed, showed the presence of 1.75 mg. of riboflavin and 7.5 mg. of nicotinic acid (vitamin B2 complex), demonstrating that they are also of value for their vitamins.” Such a high protein content, even in uncooked grasshoppers (7.6 grams/ounce), compares favorably with the level of protein in many meats—including blood sausage (4.1 grams/ounce), smoked ham (5.1 grams/ounce), and moose liver (6.9 grams/ounce)—which many poorer people cannot afford, or choose not, to consume. (Kelhoffer, The Diet of John the Baptist: “Locusts and Wild Honey” in Synoptic and Patristic Interpretation, 112)

Though John’s diet is limited, it is nutritious (all natural and relatively balanced) and readily available. Jesus will later compare John’s lifestyle to his own (Matthew 11:18-19; Luke 7:33-35).

Who can you think of who is known for their eating habits (e.g. Cookie Monster)? Have you ever eaten a locust? If your diet was described by two foods, what would they be? If you had to eat the same meal every day, what would you choose? What, if anything does your diet say about you? If you are what you eat, what does that make John the Baptist?

Since ancient times, much has been made of John’s eating habits. For Epiphanius (320-403), John’s diet was even an important factor in presenting him as the long promised Elijah (The Gospel of the Ebionites Panarion 30.13.4-5). A sect known as the Ebionites changed John’s diet to “honey cakes” to make him a vegetarian.

John’s eating habits have also fueled speculation that he was a member of various groups, most commonly the Essenes. In his article, “John the Baptist and Essene Kashruth”, Stevan L. Davies (b. 1948) admits that if John were an Essene he would be “required to eat only certain herbs and locusts and wild honey” in order to maintain Essene purity vows in the desert (NTS 29 [1983] 569-71). In arguing that John’s motive is ritual purity rather than asceticism, Davies counters that any Jew residing in the desert would have been forced to do so as it was all that was readily available. Like all human beings, John’s location in many ways dictates his diet.

Joan E. Taylor (b. 1958) adds:

It should be remembered that the Essenes are described by Josephus as eating bread loaves (War 2.130). The Community Rule describes the communal meal as being bread and wine (1QS 6:4-6; cf. 1QSa 2:17-21), and according to Luke bread and wine were precisely what John did not eat (Luke 7:33-34; cf. Matthew 11:18-19; Luke 1:15). (Taylor, The Immerser: John the Baptist within Second Temple Judaism, 34)

Daniel S. Dapaah concludes:

The description of John’s frugal diet of “locusts and wild honey” is reminiscent of the religious and philosophical ascetics of the ancient world, such as neo-Pythagoreans, neo-Platonists, vegetarians, magicians, and mystics, who abstained from meat, wine and sexual activity to rid themselves of ritual purity and defilement. The simple diet of locusts and wild honey (also eaten by the Qumranites, CD 12.14) was common among ascetic groups that roamed the Palestinian countryside (cf. War 2.143). The Qumran community was not the only ascetic and celibate group during the time of John...Several marginal Jewish groups and authorities (e.g., the Egyptian Therapeutae) practised celibacy and attracted disciples...Therefore, the possibility must be left open that John could have associated with any of those groups or individuals. (Dapaah, The Relationship between John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth: A Critical Study, 51)

Many have seen John’s diet as a desire to remain ritually pure, perhaps in keeping with a Nazirite vow (Luke 1:15-16). Locusts and wild honey not only indicate a sparse diet but also a holy diet. Locusts insured that John ate no food from which blood had been drained and the honey meant that his life was devoid of wine, as honey is sugary like wine but nonalcoholic. John’s diet also insured that he be totally reliant upon God for his sustenance.

Craig A. Evans (b. 1952) notes:

John’s peculiar diet has occasioned...speculation...that his personal food law (or kashrut) was so strict that he could eat nothing prepared by human hands...According to Josephus, one Bannus, a desert hermit (c. 56 A.D.). “dwelt in the wilderness, wearing only such clothing as trees provided, feeding on such things as grew of themselves, and using frequent ablutions of cold water, by day and night, for purity’s sake (Life 2 §11). We read in the first-century pseudepigraphal work Martyrdom and Ascension of Isaiah (Mar. Isa. 2:10-11): “All of them were clothed in sackcloth, and all of them were prophets; they had nothing with them, but were destitute, and they all lamented bitterly over the going astray of Israel. And they had nothing to eat except wild herbs (which) they gathered from the mountains.” (Evans, Bible Knowledge Background Commentary: Matthew-Luke, 66)

John’s spartan diet is certainly consistent with his message, a crude diet for an austere man. His eating habits are a reflection of his discipleship. Some have even seen John’s diet as a sign of his asceticism, underscoring a life of renunciation. George T. Montague (b. 1929) reminds, “A diet of wild honey (which could also be various types of tree sap) and locusts suggests desert life but not necessarily extreme asceticism, since an Assyrian bas-relief shows a servant offering the king a shish kebab of locusts as a delicacy (Montague, Companion God: A Cross-Cultural Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew, 38).”

John did not get distracted by the desires of the world and his diet is an exemplar of his singular focus. Warren Carter (b. 1955) comments:

John has good company in not letting food distract him from serving God: the levitical purity laws, the Nazirite refusal of strong drink (Numbers 6:3; Judges 13:4-5), heroes and heroines who maintained faithfulness to God in not eating meat (Daniel 1:12, 16; Judith 10:5, 12:2-4, 17-20), and the Rechabites, who renounced wine, houses, and agriculture (Jeremiah 35). Among Gentiles, Apollonius renounces a flesh diet and wine in favor of dried fruits and vegetables since flesh was unclean, gross, and endangered mental balance (Philostratus, Apollonius 1.8). Dio Chrystostom provides parallels with Stoic-Cynic philosophers (Disc 1.61-61, 4.70, 6.12, 12, 13.10-11, 60.7-8). Even John’s unusual food, then, attests a different way of life centered on faithfulness to God. It presents a critique of the economic extravagance of the powerful elite, who maintain their own abundance at the expense of the poor (see Matthew 11:8, 12:1-8, 14:13-21; for his critique of fine clothing and the palaces of the wealthy and powerful, see Matthew 11:9). (Carter, Matthew and the Margins, 95)

John is not overly concerned about what he will eat (Matthew 6:31; Luke 12:29), what we might call “quality of life”. He is clearly not in ministry for its material benefits. He is too preoccupied with the kingdom of God.

Craig S. Keener (b. 1960) expounds:

John’s diet...provides Matthew’s community a model of commitment. Some other poor people in antiquity also ate locusts...but locusts sweetened with honey constituted John’s entire diet. The sort of pietists that lived in the wilderness and dressed simply normally ate only the kind of food that grew by itself (II Maccabees 5:27; Jos. Life 11). In the wilderness, both refugees (Qoh. Rab. 10:8, §1) and pietists with special kosher requirements (CD 12.14; 11QTemple 48.1-5; cf. Davies 1983) might subsist on locusts. Matthew is explaining that John lived simply — with only the barest forms of necessary sustenance. This was not the only lifestyle to which God called his servants, but Matthew believed that God called some disciples to it (Matthew 11:18-19), and their lifestyle challenges all disciples to consider whether hey have staked everything on the kingdom (Matthew 13:46; cf. The emphasis in Luke 3:11, 12:33, 14:33; Acts 2:44-45, 4:32-35). (Keener, A Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew, 118-119)

In an era where prominent pastor Joel Osteen (b. 1963) claimed, “God wants me to be rich!”, it is worth asking, how comfortably should a Christian live? Does your lifestyle reflect your discipleship? Is one’s diet a spiritual issue? How much do you need?

“It is easier to change a man’s religion than to change his diet.” - Margaret Mead (1901-1978)