Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Deacon Blues

Last week, Pope Francis agreed with a proposal to construct a commission to study the issue of women serving as permanent deacons. The diaconate is the first of three ranks of ordained ministry in the Roman Catholic Church (the other two ranks are that of priest and bishop). Deacons preparing for the priesthood are transitional deacons. Married men cannot be ordained as priests but can be ordained as permanent deacons. Acts 6:1-7 is usually cited as the origin of the diaconate but the seven men who were chosen are never referred to as deacons.

Hellenists vs. Hebrews

In something of a departure from previous episodes in Acts that spoke only of the irenic fellowship of the early Christian community in Jerusalem, for the first time Luke speaks of dissention in the ranks as the Hellenists lodged a complaint against the Hebrews that their widows were being neglected in the daily food distribution.

“Hellenists” are typically referred to as “Greek-speaking Jews.” That’s a rather sloppy designation, though, because although Paul was a Greek-speaking Jew, he identified as a Hebrew. The most commonly accepted description among biblical scholars is that the Hellenists spoke only Greek and followed Greek customs. The Hebrews spoke Hebrew and/or Aramaic in addition to Greek and followed traditional Jewish customs. So what we’re dealing with is a cultural difference in the community and not just a language difference. A modern-day equivalent would be English and Spanish-speaking segments in a church congregation, each with their own cultures and traditions.

Reading between the lines, there was probably more at issue than just food distribution to widows. Throughout the early chapters of Acts, Luke speaks of the apostles praying in the Temple. But in the remainder of Acts 6, Stephen will be accused of speaking against the Temple. And, in his speech that is supposed to be his defense against those charges, Stephen challenges the importance of the Temple: “Yet the Most High does not dwell in houses made with human hands” (7:48). We know from other sources that Jews of this period were sharply divided over the claim that the Jerusalem Temple was the only place on earth where sacrifices could be offered. So it is not too much of a stretch to think that the importance of the Temple could have been a divisive issue within the early Jerusalem Christian community, as well.

Apostles are not Waitstaff

For whatever reason, unintentional or otherwise, the Hellenists believed their widows were being shortchanged. Widows were considered the most vulnerable members of a community since they did not have a husband to look after their welfare. The Twelve responded to the complaint by calling a meeting of the entire community to explain, “It is not right that we should neglect the word of God in order to wait on tables.”

The apostles were responsible for how the community’s resources were spent and food inequality was a result of them paying inadequate attention to those duties. Rectifying this would require the apostles to spend more time on administrative functions and they felt that prayer and evangelizing were their proper roles.

Their proposed solution was that the community should select seven men of good standing who could be appointed to the task of seeing that the funds were distributed equitably. Why seven? It may have been in imitation of a Jewish town council (Josephus, Antiquities 4.8.14), but we really don’t know.

It is noteworthy that the seven names on Luke's list are Greek. While Greek names were common among Jews in Jerusalem, it is most likely in this instance that the Seven came from the Hellenist part of the community. Since the original charge of unfair treatment came from the Hellenist group, the best way to set that right was for the apostles to appoint administrators chosen by the Hellenists. The Hebrew group must have had their own administrators as well because after this time, Acts will speak of James the brother of Jesus and the elders alongside the apostles as authorities in Jerusalem.

“The apostles put their hands on the men and prayed for them” (Acts 6:6b). The imposition of hands is a gesture from the OT that expresses a blessing, spiritual gift, or installation to an office or rank. [image courtesy of www.freebibleimages.org]

Introducing the Seven

Of the seven names listed, we only hear more of Stephen and Philip. Stephen’s story will be told in the rest of chapter 6 and chapter 7. He will be known as the first Christian martyr. Philip will be featured prominently in Acts 8 and in 21:8 he will be called “the evangelist, one of the Seven.” He had four unmarried daughters with the gift of prophecy. Nicolaus is the only one of the Seven mentioned as being a convert to Judaism, so presumably the others were Jewish from birth. The rest are otherwise unknown.

The Greek word diakonia (ministry, service) is used several times in this passage referring to the daily service of food (6:1), serving tables (6:2), and the ministry of the word (6:4). Because of the frequent appearance of this term, the Seven have often been regarded as the first “deacons” of the church, but that name is not used for them here. And, although they were appointed to wait on tables, we never see Stephen and Philip function in that role. But we do see them engaged in the self-described role of the apostles, “the ministry of the Word” (6:4).

This has led biblical scholars to think Luke is misreading the tradition he received. In Mark 6:35-44, Jesus fed 5000 in a Jewish region and had twelve baskets leftover. A couple of chapters later (Mark 8:1-10), Jesus fed 4000 in a Gentile region and had seven baskets leftover. Many commentators see a numeric symbolism here: twelve = Israel, seven = Gentiles.

As discussed previously, Jesus intended the Twelve to symbolize the regathering of the twelve tribes. But there could only be twelve patriarchs for the new Israel. Others had to be appointed to evangelize to the Gentile world, and that’s where the Seven came in. Fluent in Greek and comfortable in the Gentile culture, these Hellenist apostles would help the Church spread to “all of Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1: 8).

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Knock 'em Dead

The picture of the early Christian community that Luke paints In the opening chapters of Acts of the Apostles is a communist ideal: “No one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common” (Acts 4:32). A positive example is given of Barnabas (4:36-37), who sold a field he owned and laid the proceeds “at the feet of the apostles.” And then you have the negative example of Ananias and Sapphira (5:1-11).

Holding Back

As Luke tells the tale, Ananias – with the full consent and knowledge of his wife Sapphira – sold property and held back some of the proceeds when donating it to the apostles. Peter, aware of the subterfuge, called Ananias out on it, whereupon Ananias immediately dropped dead. Three hours later, completely unaware of what had happened to her husband, Sapphira is questioned by Peter. When she backs up her husband’s story, Peter tells her that those who have just returned from burying her husband will also bury her and then she is struck dead as well.

The passage reads like a tale that would be comfortable in the OT. Indeed, it has similarities to the story of Achan in Joshua 7. In that story, after the fall of Jericho, Achan took some of the gold and silver that should have gone into YHWH’s treasury. When the Israelites suffered a military setback, Joshua learned of the transgression and eventually fingered Achan as the culprit. Achan confessed and was executed by the people, thus restoring order.

Death of Ananias by Gustave Doré (1832-1883)
The main difference with the story of Achan is that here God is the one carrying out the death sentence. Peter, acting as spokesman for the apostles, declares their sin (“you have lied to God;” “you have put the Lord’s Spirit to the test”) but he does not curse them or condemn. But after rebuking them, neither does he offer them a chance to repent and be forgiven as Jesus instructed his disciples to do in Luke 17:3-4.

There are other irregularities. First, it strains credulity that word of Ananias’ sudden death would not have made its way to Sapphira, if only so she could attend his burial. Second, Acts 4:32 quoted above stated no one in the Jerusalem community owned private property, yet Peter clearly tells Ananias that he was under no obligation to sell his property. And, if he did sell it, he was also under no obligation to donate the money from the sale to the community.

So what was their crime?

Trying to Explain

Ananias’ sin was essentially that of lying, claiming that he had donated the entire value of property when he really had not. And Sapphira not only lied to cover up for her husband, but also having full knowledge of what he planned to do, she failed to dissuade him from his course of action. But are those transgressions so terrible that death is a just sentence? What sort of church requires such purity that it can only be preserved by the death of sinners?

The story is so at odds with Jesus’ teachings of repentance and forgiveness that many have struggled to make sense of it. Some biblical scholars have looked for an explanation in the Essene community of Qumran. According to that community’s rule book, after a two-year probationary period, it was obligatory for a candidate to hand over all his property to the community. There were punishments (although not the death penalty!) for deception in regards to property. If there was such a rule in the early Jerusalem community, Ananias and Sapphira would be guilty of failing to fulfill their obligation to God, not simply lying about how much they donated.

Another attempt at explaining the point of the story is that it was the “original sin” of the Christian community. After describing an idyllic community, we see a Christian couple who sin against God and receive a punishment of death. Satan (v. 3) enters the Christian community for the first time. Other examples of sin at the “beginnings” would be the Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden (Genesis 3), the golden calf at Sinai (Exodus 32), and David arranging the death of Uriah to claim Bathsheba (2 Samuel 11). But the magnitude of this sin compared to those seems way out of balance.

Post hoc, ergo propter hoc

The most plausible explanation to me is an etiological reading. In the primitive Christian community, it was believed that death had been conquered through Jesus’ resurrection. Since Jesus would return soon in his glory, none of his followers would suffer death. If Ananias and Sapphira were the first members of the Jerusalem community to die, people would want to know why had they died before Christ came again. Death before the second coming is a problem that Paul tries to explain to the Thessalonians (1 Thes 4:13-17).

A simple explanation for the couple’s unexpected death was that they were guilty of some grievous sin (for example, lying to the Holy Spirit) for which death was a suitable punishment. If they had just donated money to the community before their death, their sin must obviously have had something to do with that. The story would then have been re-told in that light, emphasizing the sin and the immediate punishment. It would then become a cautionary tale for members of the community.

If this hypothesis is correct, Ananias and Sapphira were not condemned to death by a vengeful God because they sinned; they died and sin was proposed as an explanation for their untimely demise. It’s not that different from today when, after a great natural tragedy strikes a city, televangelists cast about for some heinous sin that “explains” why God let loose his fury on that city. Never mind that those who died in the natural disaster played no part in the “sin” that supposedly brought down God’s wrath.

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Speaking in Tongues

Having narrated the reconstitution of the Twelve, Luke now records the baptism of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost (Acts 2:1-13). This episode is completely understandable as it reads, but there are many nuances that are unlocked when we have a fuller understanding of the significance of Pentecost.

What is Pentecost?

Pentecost (“the fiftieth day”) is the name used by Greek-speaking Jews for the festival known in Hebrew as Shavuot (“Feast of Weeks”). Originally it celebrated the wheat harvest when Jews thanked God for the blessings of the harvest by offering up leavened bread. But because Israel had arrived at Mt. Sinai in the third month after leaving Egypt (Exod 19:1) – that is, after Passover – Weeks picked up a secondary significance as the commemoration of the day God gave the Torah to the nation of Israel assembled at Mt. Sinai.

When the Jewish historian Josephus explains Pentecost in his Antiquities (3.10.6), he writes: “on the fiftieth day, which is Pentecost, but is called by the Hebrews Asartha…” Asartha is the Aramaic word for “solemn assembly” and indicates that in the 1st century CE Jews were celebrating Pentecost as a pilgrimage “Feast of Assembly.” Josephus does not give a reason why Jews would assemble on that date, but it is plausible that they did it in commemoration of the nation of Israel gathered at Mt. Sinai to receive the Torah.

The last piece of extra-biblical information on Pentecost comes from the Qumran Temple Scroll, one of the Dead Sea Scrolls. In this we learn that the Jews of Qumran celebrated three Pentecostal feasts, each fifty days apart: the feast of new grain, the feast of new wine, and the feast of new oil. If Luke knew of these multiple Pentecosts, he could have conflated them thinking that the Feast of Assembly was associated with the harvest of grain and wine. This would explain the crowd’s mockery of the apostles speaking in tongues in v. 13: “They are filled with new wine.”

Pentecost by El Greco (1541-1614)
Remembering Mt. Sinai

The Sinai theophany – manifestation of God – is described in Exod 19:16-19:
On the morning of the third day there was thunder and lightning, as well as a thick cloud on the mountain, and a blast of a trumpet so loud that all the people who were in the camp trembled. Moses brought the people out of the camp to meet God. They took their stand at the foot of the mountain. Now Mount Sinai was wrapped in smoke, because the Lord had descended upon it in fire; the smoke went up like the smoke of a kiln, while the whole mountain shook violently. As the blast of the trumpet grew louder and louder, Moses would speak and God would answer him in thunder.
In elaborating on this event, the Jewish philosopher Philo explained in The Decalogue (n. 46) that the fire of God descending on the mountain communicated with Israel in a language they could understand:
And a voice sounded forth from out of the midst of the fire which had flowed from heaven, a most marvelous and awful voice, the flame being endowed with articulate speech in a language familiar to the hearers, which expressed its words with such clearness and distinctness that the people seemed rather to be seeing than hearing it.
With this background in mind, we can now see how Luke alludes to the Sinai revelation with “the noise from heaven like a strong wind” and “tongues of fire” that came to rest on each of the disciples. The Hebrew word ruah and Greek word pneuma can both mean “wind” or “spirit.” Philo’s flame endowed with articulate speech familiar to the hearers resonates in “they began to speak in other tongues, as the Spirit gave them the ability.” And the gathered crowd remarked, “How is it that each of us hears them speaking in our own native language?”

Babel in Reverse

Paul speaks of the gift of tongues and compares it to the gift of prophecy in 1 Cor 14:2, 4-6, 9. He is referring to glossolalia, “ecstatic speech.” It is practiced in contemporary Pentecostal and charismatic services. What Luke is referring to in v. 4 is xenologia, “speaking in foreign tongues,” and is the first miracle recounted in Acts. Either the disciples were speaking various foreign languages – a speech miracle – as in v. 4, or the disciples were speaking their native Aramaic and the recipient understood them in their native language – an auditory miracle – as in v. 6.

Nowhere else in the NT do we have a reference to xenologia. Biblical scholars believe that the original tradition Luke inherited referred to glossolalia: “the disciples were filled with the Spirit and began speaking in tongues.” Luke modified this to “other tongues” to dramatize the apostolic proclamation to Jews from all over the world. In a sense, it is a reversal of the story of the Tower of Babel in which God confused human speech and scattered humanity over the face of the earth.

Map showing the 15 regions from which, according to Luke in Acts, pilgrims traveled to Jerusalem for the Feast of Assembly (also known as Pentecost).
Immediately before the Babel story was the Table of Nations passage which explained how the nations and peoples surrounding Israel descended from Noah’s three sons. There are similarities in the Pentecost episode to that passage when the assembled crowd of Jews list their places of origin. Luke’s list of fifteen different regions moving from east to west seems to have been something he inherited, but modified to suit his purposes. “Cretans and Arabs” seem to be an afterthought, appearing as they do after the parenthetical comment of the visitors from Rome being Jews and converts. Rome, itself, being a city and not a region, doesn’t quite fit. And you would expect Judeans to understand the language of Galileans, so why are they mentioned?

Luke wants to emphasize how the Jews gathered in Israel for Pentecost/Feast of Assembly represent the regathered Twelve Tribes who were scattered across the earth. And, preaching to them for the first time are the reconstituted Twelve. They were empowered by the Holy Spirit descending on them like fire, gifting them with the ability to speak in foreign tongues.

Jesus commissioned the Twelve to be witnesses to him “in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, even to the end of the earth” (Acts 1:8). Pentecost is known as the birth day of the Church because that is when it started living out its mission to the world.

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Replacing Judas

Wedged between the stories of Jesus’ ascension and the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost is a short report on the reconstitution of Jesus’ inner circle known as “the Twelve” (Acts 1:15-26). This brief passage is notable for two things: (1) an explanation of what happened to Judas and (2) the procedure for choosing his replacement.

What is a Disciple?

Many people only casually familiar with the gospel stories would recognize the terms “the twelve disciples” or “the twelve apostles” and could probably name Peter and one or two others as members of the group. But this should not be understood as there only being twelve disciples or twelve apostles. There were more than just twelve disciples; according to Luke, there were at least 70 (10:1). And Paul was an apostle, but definitely not one of the Twelve.

In today’s terminology, anyone who follows the example of Jesus with commitment and devotion would be called a disciple, either in the 1st or the 21st century. But, with few exceptions, the evangelists tend to restrict the title “disciple” to those who were called and left everything behind to physically follow Jesus during his public ministry. When Peter proposed to fill the empty seat left by Judas, the qualifications laid out in vv. 21-22 define a disciple: one of the men who has followed Jesus from his baptism by John until his ascension. Even a woman like Mary Magdalene, who seems to meet the criteria for discipleship, is never called a disciple in any of the gospels.

The title of disciple is not used outside the gospels and Acts. Paul, however, does refer to apostles and considers himself one. The word “apostle” means “one who is sent.” The gospels report that the Twelve were briefly sent on a missionary journey inside Israel and, after the resurrection, commissioned to baptize and witness to the resurrection. But there’s scant evidence that the Twelve served as missionary apostles to the world in the way that Paul and Barnabas did. And, according to Paul, at least one woman named Junia was “prominent among the apostles” (Rom 16:7).

The Twelve

Of the many called by Jesus to leave everything and follow him, there were twelve who were part of his inner circle. First among them is Simon Peter and his brother Andrew, followed by James and John, the sons of Zebedee. The second group of four are Philip, Bartholomew, Thomas and Matthew. The final four gets a little confusing with James of Alphaeus, Simon the Cananean/Zealot, and either Thaddeus (Mark and Matthew) or Jude of James (Luke). Judas Iscariot is always listed last.

The twelve apparently were meant to symbolize the regathering of the twelve tribes of Israel in the kingdom of God. It was a prophetic action meant to proclaim, and to some degree actualize, the kingdom. By choosing these twelve men, Jesus was prophetically setting in motion the regathering of the twelve tribes. In Matt 19:28 and Luke 22:30, Jesus promises them that “you shall sit on twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.”

Part of the Remorse of Judas and Crucifixion fresco, by Giovanni Canavesio, 1491. Luke 22:3 states that Satan had entered Judas and led him to betray Jesus. The reference to Judas bursting open in Acts 1:18 was interpreted as Satan forcibly exiting. In this grotesque image, I believe the artist was trying to convey the devil devouring Judas' soul.

The Last Days of Judas

Because of his notoriety in having betrayed Jesus, Judas Iscariot appears last in every list of the Twelve. According to Matthew 27:3-10, feeling remorse for what he had done, Judas returned his payment of thirty pieces of silver and hanged himself. Having determined that they cannot return blood money to the Temple treasure, the chief priests used the money to buy a potter’s field as a place to bury foreigners. This field became known as “the Field of Blood.”

Acts 1:18-19 give us a different version of the death of Judas and the origin of the Field of Blood. Awkwardly intruding into Peter’s speech, these parenthetical verses tell how Judas bought a plot of ground with his ill-gotten money and then he laid prostrate (or swelled up) and burst open in the middle, his guts spilling out. That is why the field was called Field of Blood.

In a third, non-biblical, account by Papias (c. 70-163 CE), Judas’ body had swelled up to the point where a passing wagon struck him and his guts spilled out.

No matter the actual cause of Judas’ death, since it happened shortly after the crucifixion, his violent end was seen as God’s punishment on a wicked person.

Reconstituting the Twelve

The death of Judas left an empty slot that needed to be filled in order to maintain the prophetic action of the regathering of the twelve tribes of Israel in the kingdom of God. Peter spoke to the gathered community and Luke tells us they were 120 in number. The number is somewhat surprising because in the previous passage we are only told of the Eleven, the women followers, and Jesus’ family (Mary and his brothers).

Of these 120, two are nominated to fill Judas’ spot. One is named Matthias and the other is known by three different names: “Joseph called Barsabbas, also known as Justus” (v. 23). Barsabbas (son of Sabba) is his Semitic name; Justus his Latin name.

But how to choose between them? Just as Jesus selected the original Twelve, he would choose Judas’ replacement. The casting of lots was seen as a means of ascertaining God’s will (cf. Prov 16:33). The lot fell on Matthias and he took his place alongside the Eleven.

After this passage, Matthias is never mentioned again. The Twelve fade from view. In Acts 6:6, the Twelve are last mentioned appointing seven men to take over food distribution. When James of Zebedee is executed by Herod Agrippa (12:1), there is no mention of the need to replace him. The Twelve were the founding members of the regathered twelve tribes and thus had fulfilled the role Jesus intended for them. In the following story of Pentecost, Peter and the other Eleven will give their first testimony to an Israel gathered for the first great feast day following Passover. It is fitting that this initial testimony of the resurrection be made by the apostles to the Twelve Tribes of God’s people.

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Divergent: Ascension

Years ago, I was reading a review of the latest novel in a book series that I enjoyed. The review panned the new book saying, “It’s retcon on a major scale.” I had never heard the term “retcon” before, so I had to look it up and learned that it was a contraction for “retroactive continuity.” Retcon is defined as “a piece of new information that imposes a different interpretation on previously described events.” When writers bring back a popular character killed off in a previous movie, episode, or novel with a hand-waving explanation of how the character escaped at the last minute, that’s retcon.

We have an example of retcon with the ascension of the risen Christ. Luke gives us two versions of the ascension, one at the end of his Gospel (24:50-53), and the other at the beginning of Acts of the Apostles (1:9-11).

The First Ascension Account

The first ascension story is part of the composite passage that concludes the Gospel of Luke (24:36-53). As the two disciples from Emmaus are recounting their experience to the gathered disciples, Jesus appears in their midst and asks them to touch him to see that he is flesh and bones and not a ghost. They give him a piece of broiled fish and he eats it in front of them. He then explicates the Scriptures to them and instructs them to remain in Jerusalem until the Father invests them with power from on high. Finally, leading them outside the city to Bethany, he blesses them and is carried up to heaven. The disciples return to Jerusalem with great joy and “were continually in the Temple praising God.” The gospel concludes as it began, in the Temple.

The Lucan Jesus’ final appearance to the gathered disciples on Easter Sunday night (vv. 36-43) recalls the material that appears in John 20:19-21 and the Marcan appendix (16:14-15). Luke seems to be drawing on a common tradition that at his final appearance to the gathered disciples, Jesus commissioned them to go out into the world. There are similar elements in both the Emmaus narrative and the conclusion of the gospel: an appearance that is not immediately comprehended, a meal, an instruction based on Scripture, and the sudden departure of the risen Christ.

The Second Ascension Account

In the beginning of Acts of the Apostles (1:1-14), Luke references his “first account” in which he described Jesus’ teachings and actions. Luke then recalls how the risen Jesus presented himself to the apostles “throughout forty days.” He instructed them to wait in Jerusalem for the baptism of the Holy Spirit in which they will receive power to become his witnesses to Judea, Samaria, and to the end of the earth. And, as he says this, he was lifted up and a cloud took him out of their sight. Two men in white robes – presumably angels – suddenly appear to explain that Jesus will one day return in the same way he was seen to go. The apostles depart the Mount of Olives and return to Jerusalem to await the coming Spirit.

In this prologue to Acts, Luke uses the ascension to conclude “the age of Jesus” and begin “the age of the church.” He recapitulates what he already said at the end of his gospel, but with more explanation on the coming of the Holy Spirit. Almost out of the blue, the apostles ask about the restoration of the kingdom of Israel (Emmaus disciple Cleopas also made a similar reference to the hope that Jesus would “deliver Israel” in Luke 24:21) and Jesus informs them their duty is to be witnesses to him throughout the world. In a similar fashion, the angelic interpreters assure the apostles that Jesus will return but there’s no point in standing there waiting for him. The implication is that the apostles have other work to do.

"See ya later, guys!" The ascension scene is the subject of the altarpiece in St. Peter’s Church in Copenhagen, by Danish painter Hendrick Krock

When was the Ascension?

We are left with a problem of dating the ascension. Luke’s Gospel clearly dates it to the night following the morning on which the empty tomb was discovered (i.e. Easter Sunday night). Acts describes the ascension occurring after a period of forty days in which the risen Christ appeared to the disciples.

A biblical literalist would try to harmonize the two ascensions. The one reported on Easter Sunday night would be merely the conclusion of Jesus’ appearance to all the disciples. His later ascension after forty days would be the “encore” performance. That’s a bit of a retcon, reinterpreting what appears to be the definitive final appearance of the risen Lord in Luke’s Gospel as merely the conclusion of one of many such appearances.

Another theory is that, having completed his gospel, Luke came upon information that Jesus appeared to the disciples for a period of time and wrote the beginning of Acts to correct his earlier account. In this hypothesis, Luke is retconning his earlier account.

Which Direction did Jesus Go?

At the other end of the spectrum from the biblical literalists are those who like to tweak the literalists by asking, “So which direction is heaven?” While there are some rock-ribbed biblical literalists who would claim that Jesus was bodily transported via cloud to heaven, most non-fundamentalists would agree that the ascension is a metaphor for the conclusion of appearances of the risen Christ to his disciples. At one time, the risen Jesus appeared to his followers and, at some point, those appearances stopped.

But it is more than that. During the Emmaus encounter, the risen Christ explained that the Messiah was bound to suffer “before entering into his glory” (24:26). The crucified Jesus, raised from the dead, has entered “his glory,” and it is from there that he has manifested himself to Peter, the Emmaus disciples, and all the others. Luke’s account of the ascension in Acts uses the trappings of apocalyptic writings – clouds, movement through the heavens, angelic interpreters – to present Christ’s final departure from his disciples in visible form. Thus the apostles become eyewitnesses to Christ’s exaltation. After this, they will no longer experience him in a visible way, but only in “the breaking of the bread.”

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Breaking Bread

In preparation for his First Communion in the Catholic Church, my son is learning about the two parts of the Mass: the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Eucharist. During the Liturgy of the Word, the priest welcomes the congregation and then we listen to readings from the OT and NT, followed by a homily where the priest or deacon explicates the Scriptures and helps us apply it to our lives. The Liturgy of the Eucharist begins when the gifts of bread and wine are brought forward. This is followed by the priest re-presenting the Last Supper during the Eucharistic Prayer and finally communion when the congregation comes forward to receive the consecrated bread and wine.

A Walk to Emmaus

Therefore, the order of the Mass was very much on my mind as I approached the exquisitely-told story of the risen Christ appearing to two disciples who were walking towards the village of Emmaus. This story is only found in Luke (24:13-35), although something similar is found in a brief reference in the Marcan appendix (16:12-13) to the risen Lord appearing “in another form” to two disciples “walking into the country.” Scholars are divided as to whether Luke elaborated on the snippet of tradition found in the Marcan appendix or if vv. 12-13 in the appendix are a summary of the story in Luke.

The Emmaus story can be broken down into four scenes:
  1. Two disciples are returning to their home village when they are met by the risen Jesus but fail to recognize him (vv. 13-16).
  2. The two (Cleopas and an unnamed disciple) recount how the women discovered the empty tomb that morning and Jesus then interprets for the two disciples the parts of Scripture that pertained to him (vv. 17-27).
  3. Towards sundown they reach Emmaus and the disciples ask Jesus to stay with them. When Jesus breaks the bread and offers it to them, they recognize him and he vanishes from their sight (vv.28-32).
  4. The two disciples return to Jerusalem where they find the Eleven and the others gathered together. They learn of an appearance of the risen Lord to Simon Peter and recount their experience on the road and how they recognized the risen Jesus “in the breaking of the bread” (vv. 33-35).
Looking at the details of the story, we see a familiar pattern: a greeting, an explication of Scripture, a proclamation of resurrection faith (“the Lord has been raised and has appeared to Simon”), and the meal setting with the breaking of the bread. Is Luke patterning the Emmaus story on early Christian liturgical celebrations? Is it a dramatization of a Mass?

The Supper at Emmaus (1936-37), a fake Vermeer by Han van Meegeren, a Dutch painter who was one of the most successful forgers of the 20th century. After WWII, one of his paintings was found in the possession of Hermann Göring. Accused of collaboration with the Nazis, van Meegeren copped to the less serious charge of forgery.
A Hidden Mass?

We know very little about liturgical celebrations at the time Luke wrote his gospel (80-85 CE). The first description we have of the Eucharistic celebration comes from Justin Martyr writing in 155 CE:
And on the day called Sunday, all who live in cities or in the country gather together to one place, and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read, as long as time permits; then, when the reader has ceased, the president verbally instructs, and exhorts to the imitation of these good things. Then we all rise together and pray, and, as we before said, when our prayer is ended, bread and wine and water are brought, and the president in like manner offers prayers and thanksgivings, according to his ability, and the people assent, saying Amen; and there is a distribution to each, and a participation of that over which thanks have been given, and to those who are absent a portion is sent by the deacons. (First Apology, 67).
All the elements present in Justin’s description of Christian worship in the second century – gathering on Sunday, readings from Scripture, instruction from the presider, blessing over the bread and wine and its distribution – are also present in many modern liturgical celebrations in various denominations. And these liturgical elements also have their echoes in the Emmaus account. While we can’t be absolutely certain in such things, it is not implausible that the Christian worship Justin describes in 155 was very similar to something Luke would have experienced 70 years before.

But to discern every element of the Mass from penitential rite to dismissal in the Emmaus story may be going further than the evidence allows.

The Breaking of the Bread

The last verse seems to sum up the central thrust of the Emmaus story: “They told what had happened on the road and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.” The words describing Jesus’ actions in v. 30 (“he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them”) are very similar to what Luke describes happening at the Last Supper in 22:19: “Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them.”

Did the two disciples recognize Jesus because they made a connection between his actions and gestures here with those he used at the Last Supper? We only know the name of one of the disciples – Cleopas – and he was not present at the Last Supper. But he could have been present at the miracle of the loaves and fishes (9:10-17). In v. 16, Luke writes: “And taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke them, and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd.” Perhaps the disciples were reminded of the Feeding of the Five Thousand?

But Luke is writing a gospel, not history. The point he wants to make is that the disciples did not recognize the risen Jesus on the road, but only in “the breaking of the bread.” This is a uniquely Lucan term which he uses several times in Acts of the Apostles to refer to celebration of the Lord’s Supper (cf. Paul’s use of “the bread that we break” in 1 Cor 10:16). Luke is telling his audience (and us) that although contemporary disciples will no longer experience the risen Lord in visible form, he will be present among them in their weekly Eucharistic celebrations.

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Raising the Tomb of Christ from the Dead

The holiest site in Christendom is the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem. Under one roof, it memorializes the traditional sites of both the crucifixion and the resurrection. Lots of places in Israel claim that “Jesus was here,” so what are the chances that these have any more historical provenance than the supposed location of the Last Supper or the Garden of Gethsemane?

Constantine’s Church

The Emperor Constantine sought to unify the Roman Empire under Christianity, and around 325 CE he decided to build churches over the sites where Jesus was born, buried, and ascended. The locals told Constantine’s engineers that, two centuries before, the Emperor Hadrian had constructed a temple over the site of Jesus’ tomb. According to the Church historian Eusebius, as Constantine’s workers cleared away the rubble and fill dirt from Hadrian’s temple, they found a tomb which was obviously that of Christ’s.

Eusebius doesn’t say why it was obvious this particular tomb was that of Jesus. Perhaps there was some graffiti written or carved on it from the time when it was venerated before it was buried under Hadrian’s temple. Or maybe the placement of the tomb directly under a statue to Jupiter was the sign that they had found the right tomb.

In any event, the workmen isolated the tomb from the surrounding rock and adorned it with decorations and columns. It was called the Edicule (Latin for “little house”). Originally the Edicule was a free-standing structure in the open, separate from the church Constantine had built around the rock of Calvary, but fifty years after the church’s dedication, a rotunda was constructed around it.

In 1009, the Moslem caliph al-Hakim ordered Constantine’s church to be demolished and the Edicule was hacked to pieces. Eventually, the present Church of the Holy Sepulcher was rebuilt in its place and over the centuries suffered a series of natural and man-made disasters. A fire in the rotunda in 1808 caused the dome over the Edicule to collapse and seriously damage the Edicule itself. It was rebuilt in 1810, but after earthquakes in 1927 and 1934, the marble cladding surrounding the Edicule became so unstable that the British (who were responsible for the Holy Land back then) had iron girders erected in 1947 to keep it from falling apart.

The Edicule inside the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem showing the steel framework keeping it from falling apart. (Photo by author, 1993).

Status Quo

Repairs have been stalled for decades as the various groups responsible for the Church of the Holy Sepulcher squabble over what to do. The Church is primarily controlled by the Greek Orthodox, Roman Catholic and Armenians churches. Each have their own portions of the church that they control, but according to the status quo decree of 1853, nothing can be changed in the public areas unless all parties agree. No detail is too small to argue about. A ladder was on a window ledge over the church’s entrance when the status quo decree went into effect and it has been there ever since. It is now called the “Immovable Ladder.”

So it was to my great surprise when I read an announcement released Holy Week (3/22/16) that the Greeks, Latins and Armenians had agreed on a major restoration to the Edicule. Work could begin as soon as May 1 after Orthodox Easter celebrations are over and will take at least 8 months. During this time, the entire Edicule will be dismantled and rebuilt. Usable parts will be cleaned and weakened or broken parts will be replaced.

What can we expect to see? As the marble cladding is removed, it will expose the masonry of the 1555 structure. There should also be what remains of the native limestone of the original tomb. Archaeologists will get an opportunity to examine, measure and record the ruins and give us a better idea of what the original tomb might have looked like.

The Empty Tomb

Based on the best information we have today, the original tomb was a small cave with two chambers carved into the side of a hill or cliff. The outer chamber was a partly-covered forecourt with a low entrance leading into the fully-enclosed rock-cut interior burial chamber. The entrance would have been closed by a large stone. There would have been rock-cut burial benches on two or three sides of the inner chamber.

Reconstruction (A) of the form of the rock-cut tomb within the Edicule and (B) of its conversion by the construction of Constantine's Edicule. (Drawn by Steven Ashley, taken from The Tomb of Christ by Martin Biddle).

According to Eusebius, Constantine’s engineers cut away the rock of the surrounding cliff, including the outer forecourt, to isolate the burial chamber. The other burial benches may have been sealed up with masonry so as to leave only the bench on the inside right exposed, since Mark 16:5 reports the women entering the empty tomb found an angel sitting there instead of Jesus’ body.

Is this really the tomb of Christ? It is impossible to say but it is plausible. Whereas the site of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher is inside the walls of Jerusalem today, around 30 CE the area was a disused quarry outside the walls. Today, a short distance from the Edicule, visitors to the church can see small burial chambers carved into the rock dating back to the 1st century CE, so the area was a definitely a gravesite until Jerusalem’s walls were extended around the area in the early 40’s and the site was brought inside the city.

Nothing is known of the site prior to 130 CE when Hadrian filled in the quarry and paved over it to construct his temple. It is very possible that the empty tomb would have been venerated as the site of the resurrection. Did Hadrian intentionally construct his temple over a site revered by Christians in order to suppress the new religion? Again, we don’t know, but later Christians certainly attributed bad intentions to Hadrian’s choice of construction site.

So I will be eagerly awaiting news of any discoveries made during the restoration work on the Edicule. I’m sure a PBS Nova or National Geographic program will be produced documenting the project. But even if surviving 1st or 2nd century graffiti saying “Jesus was here” is found, that would not prove scientifically this was the tomb of Jesus, only that early Christians venerated it as though it was.

If I learn anything more about the restoration, I’ll post it here, so watch this space.