A Discrepancy in John’s Gospel

A discrepancy is defined as "a lack of agreement."¹ This essay ponders an interesting disagreement in the Greek manuscripts at the end to the prologue (1:1-18) to John's Gospel. The issue is the following: what did the original flesh-and-blood author of the Gospel write in the original author's copy (the autograph) of John 1:18? As most regular readers of this blog are aware no autograph (original author's copy) of the Greek New Testament is known to exist. Only later copies (and copies of copies) of the autographs made through the years exist. A very few of the over 5000 manuscripts of the Greek New Testament are dated in the second century but most (one might even say, virtually all) date from the third century and later.

            In the late fourteenth century, the English translation of John 1:18 by Wycliffe-Purvey read (in Middle English, translated from the Latin):

No man sai euer God, no but the 'oon bigetun sone, that is in the bosom of the fadir, he hath teld out.²

            In the sixteenth century the King James translation read (translated from the Greek):

No man hath seen God at any time; the only begotten Son, which is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him.³

The phrase in which I am interested appears here as "the only begotten son." The two English words "only begotten" are used to translate one Greek word, monogenēs, which carries the meaning of the only one of his kind, or the one and only. Thus, a clearer translation is "the only son." The term "begotten" is misleading since it suggests that the son had a beginning, which is specifically denied in John 1:1-3.

Here, however, the problems begin. Although the translation of "only son" corresponds well with the similar readings in John 3:16, 18 and 1 John 4:9, text critics consider the reading "son" (huios) to be an early scribal change of John 1:18 to agree with the passages just cited above.⁴ The earliest manuscripts to preserve this verse in John (P⁶⁶ and P⁷⁵), however, have the reading  "unique God" (monogenēs theos) not "only son":

Unique God, the one being in the bosom of the Father— that one has made [him] known.⁵

What this unique God in the bosom of the Father makes known is the God whom no one has ever seen. This reading of John 1:18b was thought by a majority of the text critical committee considering the verse to be the earliest reading, although P⁷⁵ (dated at the beginning of the third century) reads "the unique God" (o monogenēs Theos). The word "him," lacking in the Greek, refers to the invisible God whom no one has ever seen in the first half of verse 18. And that makes the conundrum facing the translator of John 1:18 evident:  The sentence has [the] unique God revealing the God whom no one has ever seen. The reading "the only Son" (o monogenēs uios), which makes better sense, is regarded as a scribal correction because of the obvious difficulty. In textual criticism, the more difficult reading is to be preferred.

            One member of the committee thought it doubtful that the original author would have written monogenēs Theos ("Only God") and suggested in an addendum to the full committee's report that even this earliest reading might itself be a primitive transcriptional error. This suggestion was printed in square brackets and signed A. W. (Allen Wikgren?).

            As most text critics are aware, a reconstruction of the earliest reading is "if not the original, at least of the most reliable form of the text that can still be reached on the basis [o]f the material that has been preserved."⁶ Hence, the text situation in John 1:18 in the light of Wikgren's corrective comment points out the limitations of textual criticism as a critical study: it does not restore the original author's copy. In this case, however, the text-critical judgment of the Editorial Committee neither restores the original, nor restores the most reliable form of the text attainable given the material preserved from antiquity. And it raises the specter of a flawed original author's copy. Errors are something that every author knows only too well, as my correction of the quoted material in the first sentence of this paragraph demonstrates. Someone's typo there, after eluding the eagle eye of its author and the professional proofreaders of volume five of the NIDB, entered the print media world flawed.

            Faced with this difficulty, modern translators of the Gospel of John find different ways to resolve the difficulty. The translations, to judge from those Bible translations on my shelf, print later scribal corrections to the Greek text in some cases. The reading that seems to occur with frequency is "the only son" (o monogenēs uios).

One creative solution is to punctuate the sentence differently so that there are three separate designations for the son: "monogenēs,⁷ God, the One That Is, in the bosom of the Father—that one has made him known"⁸ But few translators of the English language Bible have followed this suggestion.

How does your Bible read for John 1:18?

Charles W. Hedrick
Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

¹Webster's New World College Dictionary (2002), under "discrepancy."

²Wycliffe Bible PDF, "Wycliffe Bible PDF Middle English," https://ebible.org/pdf/engWycliffe/

³The word him is written in italics because it is not in Greek.

⁴Bruce M. Metzger, ed. A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament (2^nd ed.; Stuttgart: German Bible Society, 2000), 169-70. The text critics in this case have also published the 28^th revised edition of the Nestle-Aland Greek New Testament edited by the Institute for New Testament Textual Research in Germany.

⁵My translation.

⁶Joseph Verheyden, "TEXT, NT," in NIDB 5.540.

⁷The word monogenēs is actually an adjective but this solution reads it as if it were a noun.

⁸E. A. Abbott, Johannine Grammar (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2006), 42, 55-56.

Is the Gospel of John Fictional?

What the stakes are, if it is at least partially fiction, is this: not everything written in the gospel happened, but some of it was created by authorial imagination. Around a month ago, I published a blog entitled, "Trickery in the Gospel of Mark,"¹ where I demonstrated that Mark was partially fiction ("a making up of imaginary happenings").²

            The narrator of the story in John becomes evident as a persona in the narrative when he directly addresses the readers, freezing the story in mid-telling and commenting on some aspect of what had just been shown and again resuming its telling.³ These comments are like parenthetical expressions interrupting the flow of the narrative. By comparison there is only one instance of this narrative device in the Gospel of Mark where the narrator becomes personified and directly addresses the reader (Mark 13:14).

            Among other things, the author uses this narrative device to present interior views (explain thoughts and motives) of characters in the drama and to explain what they are thinking and feeling. In real life, of course, the thoughts and motivations of others are hidden from us. We never know what people are thinking or their reasons for what they do. Even if they tell us, we only know what they told us they were thinking, and what they thought may well be different from what they said. The problem is also complicated by the fact that the Gospel of John is written around sixty years or so after the events narrated in the text,⁴ and the author was not an eyewitness to the events.⁵ This narrative device whereby the author presents interior views of characters in the narrative drama belongs more to the novelistic arts than to the historian's craft.

            What follows are several examples of this artifice by which the narrator reads the minds of characters in the drama including the mind of his created character, Jesus.⁶

The Narrator Reads the Mind of Characters in John's Gospel:

1 The narrator knows the steward did not know the source of the wine, but that the servants did know (2:9).

2 The narrator knows what the disciples remembered (2:22).

3 The narrator knows the inner motivation of those who persecuted Jesus (5:16).

4 The narrator knows what Jesus knew "within himself" (en eautō) (6:61).

5 The narrator knows the motivation of the parents of the man born blind (9:22–23).

6 The narrator knows what the disciples were thinking (11:13).

7 Judas questions why ointment was not sold and the proceeds given to the poor. The narrator knows Judas' motive for saying this (12:6).

8 The narrator reads Jesus' mind. Jesus knew from the beginning who did not believe and who would betray him (6:64).

9 The narrator reads the mind of Jesus and Judas (13:1–4).

10 The narrator knows that Satan had entered into Judas (13:27).

11. The Narrator reads Peter's mind and explains what Peter meant by the proverb Peter spoke (21:18–19).

What does it mean for a text when its author is found to engage in an unhistorical methodology, but chooses to use the conventions of literary fiction instead? At the least, it means that its narrative should be read very carefully. How should one read a text known to be novelistic? My suggestion is that one read it like one would read the historical novel Gone with the Wind. By recognizing that although it may have some historical features, the narrative itself is compromised as history. In the case of John, the author is more a Christian theologian than a disinterested historian.

Charles W. Hedrick
Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

¹Wry Guy Blog, "Trickery in the Gospel of Mark," April 11, 2025: http://blog.charleshedrick.com/search?q=Trickery+in+the+Gospel+of+Mark

²Webster's New World College Dictionary (4^th ed), under "fiction."

³Hedrick, "Authorial Presence and Narrator in John. Commentary and Story," in J. E. Goehring, et al., eds., Gospel Origins and Christian Beginnings (Sonoma, CA: Polebridge, 1990), 74–93. I found 121 instances of this narrative device, p. 81.

⁴W. G. Kϋmmel, Introduction to the New Testament (trans., H. C. Kee; Nashville, TN: Abingdon, 1975), 246.

⁵Kϋmmel, Introduction, 245.

⁶After a cursory reading in English, I found over thirty examples of this device used by the author of John. Here are several other examples of mind reading by the narrator of John: 1:43; 2:22; 2:23; 4:1; 4:17-18; 4:39; 4:41; 6:61; 6:64; 10:6; 11:13; 12:16-17; 12:18; 12:33; 12:41; 12:42-43; 13:11; 13:21; 13:29; 16:19; 18:4; 18:9; 18:32; 19:28; 21:12.

Pondering Christianity's Legacy

A Millenium, hence, when the final hymn has been sung, and the last parish priest has laid by his chasuble for a final time at the close of Mass; when the only functioning baptistry is filled with dust, and the vibrant edifices of Christian worship are crumbling mausoleums housing the bodies of the faithful awaiting resurrection day, secular historians will ponder the Christian faiths of the twenty-fifth century much as historians today ponder the Greco-Roman religions of some two Millenia ago.

            I personally am unaware of any residual influence those religions of Greece and Rome play in contemporary religious life. No one today, so far as I know, calls in prayer the names of the eternal Gods of the Greco-Roman world. What remains of their crumbling temples are stark testimonies to the once great influence of their religions. What then served as their religious literature is today relegated to ancient history classes, much as might be the case with the Bible in a Millenium or so. The corridors of history are cluttered with the remains of “true” religions. (Everyone’s religion is the true religion.) This observation raises the issue of the legacy of Christianity; what will today’s Christian faiths have bequeathed to the generations after its demise and final gasp as a vital force in human life?

            Legacies are only a matter of opinion, but there is one feature sparked by the Judeo-Christian faiths that has elbowed its way into contemporary human culture as perhaps a lasting residue of Biblical, Jewish, and Christian faiths. It is the caring concern for the most vulnerable in society. Until recently, such a humane concern was even inculcated into some USA governmental programs (USAID, for example, which Mr. Trump has effectively all but eliminated) but is found primarily in innumerable private benevolent programs for the poor and disfranchised of society.

            In Hebrew Bible God was the protector of the most vulnerable in Israelite society, widows, orphans/fatherless, strangers/sojourners, and the poor.¹ For example:

You shall not wrong a stranger or oppress him, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. You shall not afflict any widow or orphan. (Exod 22:21-22 RSV)

You shall not strip your vineyards bare; neither shall you gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and the sojourner: I am the Lord your God. (Lev 19:10 RSV)

Christian faiths used the old covenant texts as Holy Scripture and to them added several postscripts in the form of what they called new covenant texts: gospels, letters/epistles, and an apocalypse. Within these postscript epistles/letters and gospels there is evidence that the gatherings of the earliest Christ followers continued the Israelite tradition of caring for the most vulnerable.

Jesus said, “Congratulations, you poor! God’s domain belongs to you. Congratulations, you hungry! You will have a feast. (Luke 6:20–21 SV)

In a parable: “Quick! Go out in the streets and alleys of the town, and usher in the poor, and crippled, the blind, and the lame.” (Luke 14:21 SV)

Religion that is pure and undefiled before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world. (Jas 1:27 RSV)

First Timothy 5:9–16 reflects the existence in the second century of an organized ministry to pious church widows and Paul coordinated a collection of money to support the poor saints in Jerusalem (1 Cor 16:1–4; Rom 15:25–29; 2 Cor 8–9; Gal 2:10; Jas 2:16–17).

            Many of the references about care for the disadvantaged in the New Testament relate to those in the household of faith but at several points the concern seems to shade over into care for anyone in need (for example, Rom 12:19–20; 1 Cor 13:8–10; Gal 6:10). The clearest example of humane care for the nobodies of the world, however, is found is a story Jesus told about an unknown man going down from Jerusalem to Jericho. The man is mugged and left beside the road half dead. Two other men, likely officials of the Judean temple at Jerusalem, pass by him with a furtive glance while a third man, a Samaritan (despised by Judeans) was moved to act compassionately. He tended the wounds of the half-dead man, and took him to an inn, where he cared for him that evening. The next day he paid the innkeeper what amounted to two day’s pay and told him “Take care of him and whatever more you spend I will repay you when I come back” (Luke 10:29b–35). The Samaritan’s abundant benevolence is simply astonishing!² The story is a product of the history of Judaism, but it has been garnered from history’s dustbins by early Jesus followers, who elevated its putative creator to divine status. It represents (in my view) the best example of disinterested benevolence that Christianity has to offer. What in your view will be the most positive legacy of Judeo-Christianity?

Charles W. Hedrick
Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

¹M. G. Vanzant, “Orphan,” NIDB, 4.343; B. B. Thurston, “Widow,” NIDB, 5.846–47.

²The story recalls an aphorism in the Gospel of Thomas attributed to Jesus: “Blessed are those who go hungry to fill the starving belly of another.” Gospel of Thomas 69b (my translation).

Trickery in the Gospel of Mark

Artifice is defined as “a sly or artful trick”¹ and is regularly found in fiction literature, when an author informs a reader what characters are thinking or feeling:

[A]rtifice is unmistakably present whenever the author tells us what no one in so-called real life could possibly know.²

In life such views are not to be had. The act of providing them in fiction is itself an obtrusion by the author.³

Such obtrusions are especially obvious in narration that purports to be historical. And yet intelligent men were until quite recently able to read ostensibly historical accounts, like the Bible, packed with such illicit entries into private minds with no distress whatever.⁴

Booth continues by citing several New Testament passages in the canonical gospels where the authors perform the trick of reading Jesus’ mind. Specifically, he mentions two mind-reading tricks in Mark (1:41 and 5:30) and Jesus’ crisis of conscience in Gethsemane (Mark 14:32–42). How was it that this prayer came to be recorded in the Gospel of Mark when all of Jesus’ companions were fast asleep (14:37–40)? It turns out, however, that they might have overheard it, since scholars think that in antiquity people prayed out loud and not silently.

Ancient Prayer used to be spoken aloud. Silent or whispered prayer was reserved for offensive, indecent, erotic, or magical uses, but was later adopted as the normal rule in Christian practice.⁵

            Imagine my surprise when I read through Mark looking for interior views in which the narrator told readers what characters were thinking and/or feeling. Mark uses this novelistic deception over 30 times! Here are ten instances in which Mark informs readers what characters are thinking and/or feeling:

Mark 2:8 Jesus perceives in his spirit that they questioned within themselves.

Mark 5:29 She felt in her body that she was healed.

Mark 6:20 Herod feared John; when he heard John, he was perplexed but heard him gladly.

Mark 6:34 Jesus had compassion on them.

Mark 6:51–52 Disciples were utterly astounded and did not understand about the loaves.

Mark 9:6 Peter did not know what to say and the disciples were exceedingly afraid.

Mark 9:15 All the crowd were greatly amazed when they saw Jesus.

Mark 9:32 Disciples did not understand Jesus and were afraid to ask him.

Mark 12:15 Jesus knew their hypocrisy.

Mark 15:10 Pilate perceived that the chief priests delivered Jesus up out of envy.⁶

Such obtrusions are invented by the flesh and blood author, who attributes thoughts and feelings to the characters in the narrative for the purpose of advancing the narrative plot and developing characters in line with the narrative plot. The technique belongs to the rhetoric of fiction literature rather than the historians’ craft. Even had the flesh and blood author of the Gospel of Mark been present during the events being narrated (which s/he was not) the private thoughts and feelings of people would simply not have been accessible. Even when others tell us what they are thinking and feeling, we only know what they tell us. We can never have direct access to their private thoughts and emotions. Hence, exposing private thoughts and feelings is a deception performed by novelists, charlatans, libelers, and gospel writers. This one literary feature alone is enough to challenge the historical character of Mark’s Gospel.

Charles W. Hedrick
Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

¹Webster’s New World College Dictionary (4^th ed.). s. v. “artifice.”

²Wayne Booth, The Rhetoric of Fiction (2^nd ed.; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983), 3.

³Both, Rhetoric of Fiction, 17.

⁴Booth, Rhetoric of Fiction, 17-18, note 10.

⁵H. S. Versnel, “Prayer,” Oxford Classical Dictionary (3^rd ed., 1999), 1243. There were, however, exceptions to praying aloud. See Hannah’s prayer which was clearly silent (1 Sam 1:9–20).

⁶Here are the other interior views: Mark 2:8; 6:26; 7:27; 8:12; 10:22, 24, 26, 32, 41; 11:18, 32; 12:12,17; 14:4–5, 19, 33, 40; 15:44; 16:6; 16:8.

Lent

Lent (the word means Springtime) is one of those religious observances of the Christian Church worldwide that I did not experience in my youth.¹ Although some churches in the Anabaptist tradition do observe it,² the Baptist church of my youth did not (First Baptist Church, Greenville, Mississippi, 1940-52). On the other hand, the small Baptist church that I now attend (Grace Baptist, Gladstone, Missouri) does observe it—ashes and all.³

            In the fourth century the church invented Lent institutionalizing it with prayer, fasting, and almsgiving as its basis and incorporating these religious acts into the Easter celebration of the resurrection of Jesus. Lent has been practiced as 40 days of self-denial, altruism, and spiritual renewal preceding Easter. The Lenten season is promoted as a time of religious renewal, incorporating, as it does, personal contemplation, simple living, and personal honesty. It begins on Ash Wednesday and extends 40 days to resurrection Sunday (this year April 20). The church modeled the 40-day period on Jesus' temptation by Satan in the Wilderness (Mark 1:12–13; compare Matt 4–11/Luke 4:1–13 from the Q tradition). Only Matthew describes it as a period of fasting, however. Luke says that he did not eat during this period. Mark says nothing about food. The difference between not eating and fasting is that fasting has a religious connotation.

            The earliest date for the observance of Lent in Christianity is 325 CE, following the Council of Nicaea, although the custom of fasting in connection with Holy Week goes back to the second century.⁴ Thus, Lent, as such, was not a part of the religious practices of the earliest first-century Jesus-gatherings as reflected in the genuine Pauline letters, for example. Nevertheless, fasting and prayer as a religious exercise were part of the Israelite tradition and hence were practiced in Judea during the time of Jesus (Luke 2:37). In fact, "the practice of fasting is found in all religions" and was "spread across the whole of the ancient world."⁵

Matthew gives a litany of criticisms attributed to Jesus as to how some practiced praying and fasting in Matt 6:1–18. One of these criticisms can easily be applied to the modern Christian practice of Lent, specifically with respect to marking one's face with ashes to indicate that one is observing the Lenten practice of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving:

And when you fast do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by others. Truly I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you fast anoint your head and wash your face, that your fasting may not be seen by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. (Matt 6:17–18).

Do some make a parade of their almsgiving? Jesus criticized that practice, as well (Matt 6:1-4).⁶

Another aspect of Lent, mentioned earlier in this essay, is that of self-denial, likely derived from the idea of denying oneself food. The earliest Jesus-followers did practice a kind of self-denial, but it wasn't like the Lenten practice of denying oneself of a few things one enjoys for a short period, like giving up beer or not eating sweets, for example. Paul described his commitment to Christ as an all-consuming life-commitment; everything else by comparison he considered trash, loss, rubbish (Phil 3:7–11; Luke 9:23–24). Compared to Paul's idea of self-denial, the contemporary observance of Lent pales in comparison—the personal sacrifices are too little, the time frame too short.

Charles W. Hedrick
Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

¹en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lent

²https://www.britannica.com/topic/Anabaptists. Greenville First Baptist belonged to the Southern Baptist Convention.

³Grace Baptist Church belongs to the American Baptist Convention.

⁴https://groundworkonline.com/blog/a-short-version-of-the-long-history-of-lent

⁵J. Behm, "νῆστις" [nēstis, fasting], vol. 4.26 in G. Kittel, ed., Theological Dictionary of the New Testament (G. Bromiley, trans.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1967).

⁶Hedrick, http://blog.charleshedrick.com/search?q=Alms

When did Jesus stop talking?

It sounds like a trick question, right? Nevertheless, I will attempt to show you that it is quite serious. When Jesus died by crucifixion at the hands of the Romans somewhere around 30,¹ his early followers believed that God restored him to life and the three authors (whoever they may have been) of the canonical gospels (which Christians today affirm as God’s Word) conclude their gospels with resurrection narratives.² All but Mark end their gospels with a series of post-crucifixion appearances of Jesus in which Jesus (back to the land of the living) speaks. None of the sayings of Jesus in these appearance stories, however, are regarded by historians as sayings of the historical man, Jesus.³

            Later followers of Jesus (30-70), before the canonical gospels began to be written, apparently believed that resurrection appearances of Jesus confirmed that Jesus had, in fact, been raised from the dead. See Paul’s statement (1 Cor 15:3-8) that after the crucifixion Jesus had appeared to Cephas (Peter), to the twelve (disciples), more than 500 people on one occasion, James, all the apostles, and even to Paul himself. And the voice of the living Jesus continued to be heard through the mouths of prophets whom, as it was believed, God had appointed to speak in the name of the Lord in the gatherings of Jesus followers (1 Cor 12:10, 28).⁴

The early Christian prophet was an immediately-inspired spokesperson for God, the risen Jesus, or the spirit who received intelligible oracles that he or she felt impelled to deliver to the Christian community or, representing the community, to the general public.⁵

The most intense period of early Christian prophecy was roughly 30-70 before sayings of Jesus were incorporated into gospels.⁶ During this period prophets circulated among gatherings of Jesus followers and, when prompted, spoke the Word of the Lord to their contemporaries (Didache 11:3-13:7). Hence, the oral tradition about Jesus’ sayings and doings contained both sayings of the (dirty-footed) historical man and sayings of the (spiritually?) resurrected Lord. Such sayings entered the stream of Christian oral tradition, which was the resource used, in part,⁷ by the authors of the canonical gospels in narrating the teaching and deeds of Jesus reported in their gospels.⁸

            A case on point is a saying of the resurrected Lord spoken by the early Christian prophet, John the revelator:

Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me. (Rev 3:20 RSV)

Should this saying be regarded as spoken by Jesus? John regards it as part of the revelation of Jesus Christ (Rev 1:1), which came to him through the Lord’s angel (Rev 1:2) while he was in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day (Rev 1:11) as a part of a “letter” to the Jesus gathering in Laodicea (Rev 3:14). If you regard it as a saying of Jesus, should it be accorded equal weight with sayings that came out of Jesus’s own mouth? The big question, however, is how does one sort out sayings in the gospels that probably came from the Lord’s own mouth from sayings that may have come from an early Christian prophet or the creative imagination of the evangelists?

Charles W. Hedrick
Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

¹Jesus was crucified at some point within the Prefecture of Pontius Pilate, Prefect of Judea, 26-36: Tessa Rajak, “Pontius Pilatus,” Oxford Classical Dictionary (3^rd ed., 1999), 1220.

²Mark 16:1-8; Matt 28:1-8; Luke 24:1-12; John 20:1-10.

³The empty tomb stories, resurrection appearances, and ascension of Jesus are not printed at their narrated place in each of the gospels but handled in a separate section in the back of R. W. Funk and the Jesus Seminar, The Acts of Jesus (HarperCollins, 1998), 449-95.

⁴http://blog.charleshedrick.com/search?q=early+Christian+prophets

⁵M. E. Boring, “Prophecy (Early Christian),” Anchor Bible Dictionary (1992). 5:495-502.

⁶Although the oral tradition was still influential into the second century.

⁷Matthew, Luke, and John also drew from other written texts, and their own creative imaginations. None of them were eyewitnesses to what they reported.

⁸Hedrick, When History and Faith Collide, 127.

Jesus said: "Love Your Enemies"

In this most outlandishly stated, mind-boggling, aphorism Jesus says “Love your enemies.”¹ Such a statement prompts me to ask,

Now wait a minute Jesus, do you mean that I should respond with love to someone who wants to destroy me? Love them like I love those closest to me in whose behalf I would gladly do anything humanly possible? Or do you simply mean that I should treat them kindly and humanely? Actually loving an enemy could well get another loved one, or myself, injured or killed.

            The saying, “love your enemies,” enters the stream of the written Jesus traditions through the now lost (or hypothetical) Gospel Q² The earliest the saying appears is the second half of the first century, (arguably) copied independently at different times from Q by Matthew (5:44) and Luke (who uses it twice, Luke 6:27, 35). The raw statistical records of the voting of the Jesus Seminar do not agree and hence send mixed signals as to whether the aphorism originated with Jesus.³ In the Five Gospels, however, two of these sayings are colored red and one (Luke 6:35) is colored pink.⁴ The color red/pink accords the saying the status of having probably originated with the historical man, Jesus of Nazareth (as opposed to it being a saying from an early Christian prophet, or borrowed from elsewhere and attributed to Jesus).

            By contrast, in the Israelite tradition, one is directed to love one’s neighbor (Lev 19:18), who is identified as a fellow Israelite (Deut 15:2-3). Israelites also have the obligation to help enemies (Exod 23:4-5) and treat them humanely (Prov 25:21).⁵ Even the stranger or alien in the land is to be treated as a native of the land (Lev19:33-34). The Israelite tradition sets a high ethical standard for the Israelite to follow, without enjoining the extraordinary, perhaps even preposterous (that is, utterly absurd or ridiculous), injunction to love the enemy. On the other hand, In Ps 139:21-22 the psalmist says that he “hates the enemies of the Lord.” That is to say, the Lord’s enemies are his enemies too, but even hating the Lord’s enemies is excluded by the unqualified assertion of Jesus. People who love their enemies, from their own perspective, have no enemies. Nevertheless, those whom one previously regarded as an enemy may not reciprocate that sentiment and may still regard you as an enemy anyway, even though you love them.

            Matthew and Luke, however, offer a practical interpretation of the radical saying of Jesus by which one can treat enemies humanely and religiously without actually loving them (Matt 5:43b: “pray for those who persecute you”; Luke 27b: “do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you”). Their suggestions for understanding the radical saying effectively explain the saying in actions that one can perform without becoming sentimental.

            The saying itself and its interpretation by the evangelists raise the following two questions: Do I heed the radical call of Jesus to an unconditional love for all God’s creatures regardless of their attitude toward me or may I follow the more practically minded evangelists and simply treat enemies humanely? And if I decide the former, how am I supposed to make myself love someone who is sworn to destroy me?

Would someone please advise me?

Charles W. Hedrick
Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

¹For the definition of an aphorism see Hedrick, “Aphorisms of Jesus,” Wry Guy Blog: August 9, 2020, note 1: http://blog.charleshedrick.com/2024/08/aphorisms-of-jesus.html

²For a brief discussion of Q, see Hedrick, When History and Faith Collide. Studying Jesus (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1999; 2^nd printing, Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock,2013), 95-109.

³The reason I say that is because the aphorism was classified both certain and doubtful at the same meeting. See “Voting Records,” Foundations and Facets Forum 6.3-4 (September/December 1990), 245-352.

⁴Robert Funk and Roy Hoover, eds., The Five Gospels (New York: Macmillan, 1993).

⁵https://jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/5756-enemy-treatment-of-an

What's Good About the Church?

In many ways, today we appear to be headed toward a post-Christian era. One indicator of this turn of affairs is the large number of people who have joined the “Church Alumni Association” (CAA). People who are part of the CAA have either quit the church or their participation in regular formal religious activities has taken a far backseat in their lives. They might claim to be spiritual, but are not formally religious. This is not something new. Even at the dawn of the Christian era there were those who, for one reason or another, abandoned what we know traditionally as the Christian community.¹ Church leaders labeled such people apostates (Heb 6:4-6), but we do not know how they thought of themselves. Were they apostates or heretics?² A few of them are named in early Christian texts. For example, a certain Demas is mentioned positively as a companion of Paul (Col 4:14; Philemon 24), but he is also remembered negatively as having “forsaken” Paul and the Pauline church (2 Tim 4:16).³

The situation of the CAA raises the question: how does one maintain a connection to the Christian tradition when one no longer considers oneself a traditional Christian in terms of the fourth century confessions and creeds of the church, which are still universally used to define post-reformation Christianity? Naturally, there is a prior question: why would one even want to stay connected to the traditional Christian community, when one acknowledges that one is no longer traditionally Christian in terms of the modern church’s confessions and creeds?

Pondering an answer to the “why” question leads me to three personal observations in defense of staying connected to the post-reformation church. In my case the church is my heritage. I grew up regularly attending church, and it has played a major part in my adult life. No one ever completely escapes their own history. I can no more shake the church out of my system, than I can shake off my southern accent and Mississippi upbringing. Church, southern accent, and the Mississippi Delta in part define who I have become. For good or ill I will always be a Baptist “Delta boy,” although I have been exposed to strange and novel ideas, traveled a bit in the Western world, and lived for a spell in some exotic places.⁴ Even “progressive Christians” who, in their more extreme forms have abandoned traditional Christology and theology, have remained traditional in terms of their ecclesiology—that is, they still hold to the idea of the church as a positive social institution for housing their activities; however, they reorient the significance and meaning of the ordinances (baptism and Eucharist). In a sense progressive Christians are still a part of the ecclesiastical scene in society as churches that compete with traditional Christian Christology and theology.

As a responsible citizen of these United States, I have an interest in seeing the traditional church succeed. For all its ills, imperfections, warts, and blemishes, it aims to be a positive force in human society. The Gospel of Matthew (5:13-14) cites Jesus as telling his followers “You are the salt of the earth and the light of the world” (Gospel of the Savior 1:4; compare Matt 5:13-14). Salt is a well-known preservative that enhances the flavors of the ingredients of food—it makes food tastier. And light is essentially necessary for life in a world that becomes dark about every 12 hours. This directive of Jesus is frequently interpreted as humanitarian service that is quite apart from their primary functions. Who would not want to be associated in some way with an institution that aims for the betterment of human life, society, and culture, even if it often misses the mark? A major focus of many progressive churches is “justice in the social order”—something progressive Christians learned from the traditional Christianity from which they have emerged.

As a retired educator, what I find best about the church, however, is that as an institution it sets aside one day a week for pondering, among other things, human values, ethics, and life’s eternal verities (if such there be).⁵ At its finest, it encourages church members to reflect on societal issues and on what one might consider life’s “enduring mysteries” (that is to say: things beyond the material aspects of life). There is no other institution in society that makes such focal points a weekly event. To be sure, one can also find a similar focus in university classes in philosophy and religious studies, but classes end every quarter or semester—and not everyone is able to go to the university. The church, however, is open every week. Because of the iconic role of the Bible in Western culture, weekly Bible study provides a focus for reflecting on such issues.

What, in your view, is good about the church that you can express in non-confessional “secular” language?⁶

Charles W. Hedrick
Distinguished Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

¹By this I mean to indicate the communities of those authors whose writings have found their way into the New Testament. There were also nontraditional communities in the earliest period who claimed the term “Christian” for themselves as well, although they were very different in thought from those who called themselves the “Orthodox”—like the author of the Gospel of Philip, for example.

²http://blog.charleshedrick.com/search?q=apostates+or+heretics

³Three others are Hymenaus, Alexander, and Philetus (1 Tim 1:20; 2 Tim 4:16).

⁴The term “Delta boy” was coined (so far as I know) by the Rev. Dr. Buddy Shurden, another Mississippi Delta boy.

⁵http://blog.charleshedrick.com/search?q=why+go+to+church

⁶This essay first appeared five years ago, Dec 20, 2019. It appears here edited, updated, and expanded.

Was Paul a follower of Jesus?

My title begs for definitions. By Paul I mean to designate the author of the seven undisputed first-century letters attributed to him: Romans, First and Second Corinthians, Galatians, First Thessalonians, Philippians, and Philemon. By Jesus I mean to designate the early first-century Judean man who was crucified by Roman authority between AD 26 and 36. By follower I mean to raise the question was Paul an adherent, disciple, or partisan of, and loyal to, the ideas he gleaned from the man from Galilee of Judea, who died when Pontius Pilate was Prefect of Judea.

            Paul knew bits of data about the life of the Judean man that came to him through the tradition: Jesus was born of woman under the Israelite Torah (Gal 4:4); Paul knew that Jesus had a brother (Gal 1:19). Paul also mentions three incidents from the life of Jesus. He ate a meal on the night he was arrested (1 Cor 11:23-25), he was crucified (Gal 3:1) and was buried (1 Cor 15:4).¹ Paul also was aware of certain sayings that perhaps can be traced back to sayings attributable to the man from Galilee (1 Cor 11:23-25, 7:10-11; 2 Cor 12:9; 1 Thess 4:15). But he attributes these sayings to "the Lord."² By the use of this title is he referring to the Judean man or the spirit of the resurrected Lord of faith who, he claimed, dwelled within the believer (Rom 8:9-11)? What is at issue is precisely whom does he follow.

            Paul uses the name of the Judean man, Jesus, only ten times alone in the undisputed letters without the Christological titles awarded to him by the faith of the later religious community. Generally, he uses the name of Jesus in combination with the theological titles. The titles are, Christ and Lord, or some combination thereof, but in these ten instances Paul uses the name of the Judean man alone. Which figure does he seem to be evoking by using the name Jesus alone: the Judean man or the Christ spirit within him?

            Rom 3:26 concludes: "…that he [God] is righteous, justifying a person by the faith of Jesus."³ Here he appears to be speaking about the Judean man, not the Christ spirit that motivates him.

            Rom 10:9: "Jesus is Lord"; Jesus refers to the Judean man and the title Lord refers to the resurrected Lord of faith, whom Jesus became by his resurrection from the dead.

            1 Cor 12:3: in both cases, the name Jesus refers to the Judean man and the title Lord refers to the Christ spirit within Paul.

            2 Cor 4:10-11: "the death of Jesus" evokes the death of the Judean man, while "the life of Jesus" evokes the resurrected Lord of faith.

            2 Cor 11:4: the "Jesus" that Paul proclaimed was Christ crucified (1 Cor 1:23), an expression evoking the death of the Judean man.

            Gal 6:17: the "marks of Jesus on Paul's body" could only refer to the crucified Judean man.

            1 Thess 1:10: it was the Judean man who was "raised from the dead," albeit spiritually (1 Cor 15:44, 50).

            1 Thess 4:14: The Jesus who died and rose again was the Judean man, albeit spiritually resurrected (1 Cor 15:44, 50).

Phil 2:10: Phil 2:6-11 has long been regarded as an early pre-Pauline hymn that Paul quoted and in doing so added the following words to verse 8, "even death on a cross." In the hymn, Jesus (2:10) is the Judean man whom God exalts. I suggest that Phil 2:11 are Paul's own words added to the hymn to harmonize the Judean man with the spirit of the resurrected Lord of faith. Compare in the first half of Phil 2:11 the words "every tongue confess that Jesus is Lord" to Rom 10:9 and in the second half of the verse the words "by the glory of God, the Father" to Rom 6:4.This latter phrase appears as a standard Pauline element of the epistolary salutation in his letters: "Grace to you and peace from God, our Father…" (Rom 1:7; 1 Cor 1:3; 2 Cor 1:2; Phil 1:2; Philemon 3), as well as in Pauline doxologies (2 Cor 1:3; Gal 1:4; Phil 4:20) and thanksgivings (1 Thess 1:3).

            Here is a statement Paul makes in 2 Cor 5:16: "…if also we have known Christ according to the flesh, yet now we no longer think [of him that way]."⁴ If this statement were applied to the situation in this essay, it would suggest that Paul no longer thinks of Jesus as a Judean man become divine (i.e., a half human⁵), rather he now thinks of Jesus as the Lord Jesus Christ, God's son, rather than Mary's son.⁶

This essay is incomplete; it is more suggestive than definitive.

Charles W. Hedrick
Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

¹Hedrick, The Wisdom of Jesus, 1-2.

²In Rom 13:9 Paul does not cite the Lord as source; he likely knew it through reading Hebrew Bible (Lev 19:18).

³The Greek reads: dikaiounta tov ek pisteōs Iēsou. See the translation of Rom 3:26 in A. Dewey, et al., The Authentic Letters of Paul (Salem, OR: Polebridge Press, 2010), 219. See also the cameo essay on Gal 2:16, pp. 65-66.

⁴The literal expression "according to the flesh" (kata sarka) in the Danker-Bauer Greek-English Lexicon is translated as: "according to human standards."

⁵A term (ēmianthrōpos) used of Dionysus by Lucian in the second century (the Parliament of the Gods, 4). For a list of the Demigods in ancient belief see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_demigods.

⁶The statement by Paul has created a great deal of difficulty for commentators on the text of second Corinthians. See Victor Paul Furnish, II Corinthians. A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 32 A; New York: Doubleday: 1984), 312-14, 329-32.

A New Year's Introspection

When I was younger, I perceived my future bright with prospects and promise. On waxing old and being full of days, however, I have discovered my interests now are more about retrospect than prospect. We elderly live in another country, and even though like Moses we may be permitted to view the prospects of the New Year's promised land (Deuteronomy 34:4), we are fated to remain in the land of Moab, in our own country and time (Deuteronomy 34:5-6). In the late autumn of life and with the onrush of winter, our vengeful enemy time has taken a terrible toll: sagging skin, thinning hair, a diminishing of the life force, failing eyesight, lapsing memory, other assorted aches and pains, and physical impairments. Few of us nonagenarians are like Moses, of whom it was fabled: "his eye was not dimmed, nor his natural force abated" (Deuteronomy 34:7). But we elderly have "eternity in our minds" (Ecclesiastes 3:11) and seem to think we should live forever.

I prefer to think of aging and our eventual physical demise as the natural course of things. A prime axiom of the universe is obsolescence—things just wear out, become obsolete, and disappear. Or put another way, they die out and pass out of existence. We instinctively know it is true—whether of nations, neighborhoods, sump pumps, or, alas, of people. Such is the way of all life and things in the universe as we know it.

I could, of course, be wrong. Paul turned what in my view is a natural occurrence into a theological dogma. Based on the Hebrew myth of creation, he argued that because the first human beings sinned (Genesis 2:17) the human potential for death entered the world and passed onto all human beings, in that all have sinned (Rom 5:12, 17; 1 Corinthians 15:21). Apparently, Adam's sin even affected the universe, as it too is under bondage to decay (Romans 8:20-23) and obsolescence (1 Corinthians 7:31). So, in part, Paul and I are of the same mind—except that he thinks theologically, and my statements are made based on simple observation. It must be said that the universe is expanding at a rapid rate, and its acceleration seems to be increasing.

The Psalmist seems to regard a limited life span as a natural phenomenon: The years of our life are threescore and ten, or even by reason of strength fourscore; yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away (Psalm 90:10 RSV). There is no talk here of our lifespan being reduced by God's judgment because of sin. The situation seems to be that the Psalmist has observed only the natural way of life in the universe. The human lifespan is only so long because of the prime axiom of the universe. It is likewise the view of Koheleth (Ecclesiastes 1:1), who philosophizes about those things he "has seen under the sun" (Ecclesiastes 1:14; 2:17; 3:16, 22; 4:1, 7; 5:13: 6:1; 7:15; 8:9, 17; 9:11, 13; 10:5). There is no appeal here to divine revelation, rather Koheleth appeals to human experience in a similar way that proverbs appeal to human wisdom.

For those who have lived into their yellow leaf the New Year is not about resolutions but rather reminiscences. We in the twilight of life are poised on the threshold of life's greatest adventure, and what matters now is not the coming year and its prospects, but what lies behind along with our regrets and personal satisfactions. Perhaps that is why I don't have a "bucket list." These days I think about those things I have left undone, the roads never taken, the questions never asked, the books never read, old friends with whom I have lost contact, the essays never finished. Have I left a deep enough footprint in the sand that the first high tide will not erase? I suppose in long term it does not matter. Very few things endure the ravages of time.

Is there a lesson in all this introspection? In the last chapter of Ecclesiastes (12:1-14) a later editor has concluded: "The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments; for this is the whole duty of man" (Ecclesiastes 12:13 RSV). I prefer thinking on the views of the principal author of the text: these I regard as the "intellectually honest ponderings of a man who looked at the world primarily from a rational perspective rather than through the eyes of faith. He struggled with the question: what is the point of life—and found no satisfactory answer."¹ But the point is he continued struggling with the questions, and in the final analysis gave-up neither on life nor God. His struggles with the dichotomy between the answers of traditional religion, and what he sees going on in the world around him have led him to be satisfied with the simple pleasures of life (2:24; 10:19).

So, the New Year arrives! Yet the first day of a New Year, after all the fuss, is just another day around the sun in a succession of many others. Those of us fortunate enough to see its dawning should rejoice and be glad in it (Psalm 118:24). Koheleth would appreciate that sentiment; he thought of life as a great gift—hope is only for the living. Or as he put it: "a living dog is better than a dead lion" (Ecclesiastes 9:4).

For my tribe, you elderly: may your New Year's Day be full of happy memories that bring smiles to your face, rather than blushes to your cheeks. For those who are younger: may your new country be full of bright prospects.²

Charles W. Hedrick
Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

¹Quotation from Hedrick, The Wisdom of Jesus. Between the Sages of Israel and the Apostles of the Church (Cascade, 2014), 72.

²I initially published this essay on my blog on Dec 31, 2015.