Thoughts

“Our Father who art in heaven” – Green points out (p100) that this is known as the ‘Lord’s prayer’ not because it was the prayer Jesus himself prayed (as he did not need to ask for forgiveness) but that it was the prayer he gave to us. We are united to him in the prayer because it is through him that we have gained the right to call God ‘Abba’ (the original of ‘πατερ’ according to Green, referring to Rom 8:15 “Abba, Father”). Chrysostom (p134) writes that this opening phrase calls us up to heaven through intimacy and the recognition of God. We approach collectively in the ‘our Father’ and in this multitude we approach together, whether king or servant, the Father of us all.

In this longing for heaven (“thy kingdom come”), Chrysostom says, we should work to make the earth more like it, and that means aiming for perfection (5:48: “be ye perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect”). Green has trouble with this saying, and wishes the ‘τελειοι’ to be not ‘perfect’ but ‘mature’ (p101). While this is technically a possible interpretation of the Greek word, it would be unusual to describe God as ‘mature’ – ‘the Ancient of Days’ (Dan 7:9) perhaps, but this would not fit the context of 5:48 (and in any case is usually taken to be a reference to God as eternal). Thus it seems necessary to take this word here as referring to completeness or perfection.

Chrysostom says “there is nothing to hinder our reaching the perfection of the powers above… even while abiding here” by virtue of the grace from above (p135). On the other hand, further on in the Lord’s prayer we assume our sinfulness, asking for our sins (or ‘debts’) to be forgiven. Even in the midst of our sinfulness we still must look forward to becoming the person God calls us to be, and that involves perfection.

To sustain us on this journey towards perfection, we ask for ‘our daily bread’ (‘τον αρτον υμων τον επιουσιον’ – the ‘essential’ – sometimes translated ‘super-essential’ – bread) to be given to us ‘this day’. Chrysostom (p135) takes this absolutely straightforwardly, as being our needs for the current day, with no worry about the morrow, referring us forward to v25-31 where this is what Jesus teaches us. Green agrees, but also suggests a possible interpretation of the Greek phrase as ‘the bread of tomorrow’, pointing to this being a foretaste of the eternal Bread which sustains not only our bodies but our souls. Augustine (‘Our Lord’s Sermon on the Mount’ Book 2, VII:25 – NPNF vol.6 p41) suggests three possible interpretations: our daily needs (but unlike Chrysostom he sees v25-31 as an objection to this interpretation), the Eucharistic mysteries (but he notes that these are not taken daily in the East), or a reference to spiritual ‘food’ or precepts which we live by daily. He inclines towards the last interpretation, but accepts that all are acceptable. Perhaps the fullest understanding of this petition comes from holding all three together.

The significance of Jesus’s teaching about righteousness in the Sermon on the Mount is demonstrated by Matthew in the setting on a mountain. Mountains have significance in Matthew’s gospel, as Green points out (p89), in that they highlight points of revelation. Moreover, the mountain was established in the Old Testament as a place of God’s revelation. Here we are again at Sinai, witnessing the giving of the law, but whereas (as Green points out p93-4) the prophets had said “thus says the Lord” and the rabbis quoted their various authorities, and, we might add, Moses disappeared into the cloud to bring back the tablets of stone, this time Jesus himself stands on the mountain in full view of the people and simply says “I say…”

Chrysostom (p103-4) points out that Jesus understands the suspicion that he might be abrogating the ancient institutions, and thus he assures them that he is not there to destroy the Law, speaking of his reverence for it before intensifying its demands. Jesus goes on to show, in Green’s words (p92), that true righteousness transcends “formal obedience”. It is not the letter of the law that counts, but the Spirit (and how much Spirit is required!): that is, actions and words should not be performed with the idea of satisfying the law, but “to respond in wholehearted gratitude to the love of God” (Green, p93) – a much higher demand. Jesus speaks of exceeding even the Pharisees and Scribes who minutely observed the law. Chrysostom (p106) says that to exceed them means to follow Jesus’s intensification of the law’s demands, outdoing them not in legalistic detail, but in fulfilling the purposes for which they were given.

How was Christ himself the fulfilment of the law? Chrysostom (p105) gives three ways: firstly, by not transgressing it (Chrysostom gives supporting quotes from John’s gospel and from Isaiah to show that none could convict Christ of having transgressed the law) – on those points where he was accused specifically of transgressing the law, he always had an answer for his accusers (e.g. Mt 12:1-8); secondly, by granting his fulfilment of the law to us (quoting Romans 10:4, 8:3-4, 3:31) through his incarnation and our faith in him; and thirdly, fulfilling the law through his intensification of it in his ministry and his teaching. In contrast, Green (p92) writes that some elements of the Old Testament law were “abolished by being fulfilled” – that some had pointed forward and were now eclipsed. Presumably he is speaking here of ritual law, since he points out that the moral law is all intensified in Christ.

The Beatitudes at the beginning of the passage are important as setting out the context for Jesus’s speaking about the Law. In the Beatitudes he illustrates what a righteous life (that is, a life truly in accordance with the law) is like: as Green puts it (p89), what life is like after repentance and commitment. Chrysostom points out (p105) that having set forth the blessings in the example of the life in accordance with the true law in the Beatitudes, in the examples of his intensification of the law, he goes on to indicates the consequences of not living in accord with the Spirit of the law.

Both Green and Chrysostom see in this passage the greater context of love as rule, as motivation, and as context of life. Chrysostom says that reconciliation is even above prayer: that if the gift you are offering at the altar is even a prayer, still you should lay it down and first be reconciled with your neighbour before returning to offer your prayer: “Let my service… be interrupted, that thy love may continue” (p112).

The significance of Jesus’s teaching about righteousness in the Sermon on the Mount is demonstrated by Matthew in the setting on a mountain. Mountains have a significance in Matthew’s gospel, as Green points out (p89), in that they highlight points of revelation. Moreover, the mountain was established in the Old Testament as a place of God’s revelation. Here we are again at Sinai, witnessing the giving of the law, but whereas (as Green points out p93-4) the prophets had said “thus says the Lord” and the rabbis quoted their various authorities, and, we might add, Moses disappeared into the cloud to bring back the tablets of stone, this time Jesus himself stands on the mountain in full view of the people and simply says “I say…”

Chrysostom (p103-4) points out that Jesus understands the suspicion that he might be abrogating the ancient institutions, and thus he assures them that he is not there to destroy the Law, speaking of his reverence for it before intensifying its demands. Jesus goes on to show, in Green’s words (p92), that true righteousness transcends “formal obedience”. It is not the letter of the law that counts, but the Spirit (and how much Spirit is required!): that is, actions and words should not be performed with the idea of satisfying the law, but “to respond in wholehearted gratitude to the love of God” (Green, p93) – a much higher demand. Jesus speaks of exceeding even the Pharisees and Scribes who minutely observed the law. Chrysostom (p106) says that to exceed them means to follow Jesus’s intensification of the law’s demands, outdoing them not in legalistic detail, but in fulfilling the purposes for which they were given.

How was Christ himself the fulfilment of the law? Chrysostom (p105) gives three ways: firstly, by not transgressing it (Chrysostom gives supporting quotes from John’s gospel and from Isaiah to show that none could convict Christ of having transgressed the law) – on those points where he was accused specifically of transgressing the law, he always had an answer for his accusers (e.g. Mt 12:1-8); secondly, by granting his fulfilment of the law to us (quoting Romans 10:4, 8:3-4, 3:31) through his incarnation and our faith in him; and thirdly, fulfilling the law through his intensification of it in his ministry and his teaching. In contrast, Green (p92) writes that some elements of the Old Testament law were “abolished by being fulfilled” – that some had pointed forward and were now eclipsed. Presumably he is speaking here of ritual law, since he points out that the moral law is all intensified in Christ.

The Beatitudes at the beginning of the passage are important as setting out the context for Jesus’s speaking about the Law. In the Beatitudes he illustrates what a righteous life (that is, a life truly in accordance with the law) is like: as Green puts it (p89), what life is like after repentance and commitment. Chrysostom points out (p105) that having set forth the blessings in the example of the life in accordance with the true law in the Beatitudes, in the examples of his intensification of the law, he goes on to indicates the consequences of not living in accord with the Spirit of the law.

Both Green and Chrysostom see in this passage the greater context of love as rule, as motivation, and as context of life. Chrysostom says that reconciliation is even above prayer: that if the gift you are offering at the altar is even a prayer, still you should lay it down and first be reconciled with your neighbour before returning to offer your prayer: “Let my service… be interrupted, that thy love may continue” (p112).

It is noticeable that the next thing reported by Matthew after the baptism of Christ is the temptation of Christ by the devil, or as it is titled in the Orthodox Study Bible, ‘Jesus’ Triumph over Satan’, recalling that part of the ritual of baptism now includes our renouncing and spitting on the devil. Green and John Chrysostom both comment on this. Green generalizes this experience (p.82) by pointing out that after any kind of a spiritual ‘high’, some kind of serious temptation often follows, as he says, to help us separate the emotional effect from the lasting and to encourage us to seek not the ‘highs’ but the experience of constancy and dependence on God for our daily bread. John Chrysostom (p.80) emphasizes particularly the connection with baptism: that in baptism we are taking up arms to fight, and the temptations are where the fight begins: here we have to show our fortitude in standing against the demons and learn to be strong. He also points out that when man is brought to honour, the devil will always attack: as with Adam as king of creation, as with Job recommended by God, as with Christ and with us in baptism.

Green, after a brief paragraph mentioning how the experience of temptation is a feature of the Christian life, goes on to say that “it would be a great mistake to suppose that the story of the temptations is included in the Gospel primarily to provide an example to Christian disciples, though they do provide that example. These temptations were messianic.” On the other hand, Chrysostom, in his only sermon on the temptations in this collection, Homily XIII, spends the bulk of his time precisely in relating Christ’s temptations to ours. While it is true that the story of the temptations as presented by Matthew and Luke very clearly presents what kind of Messiah Jesus is – against the expectations of the Jewish people of the day, I think Green is overstating the case when he wants to divide these two aspects of the passage elevating its messianic nature far above the exemplary nature. Chrysostom (p.83) points out how beautifully this summary[1] of the temptations is framed to provide us with the three most common basic forms of temptation: through sensual appetites and desires (‘the belly’ as he puts it), through vainglory and self-importance, and through wealth and power. If we are in Christ, if we form the body of Christ, then there is no distinction between what kind of Messiah Jesus is and what our own temptations and struggle with the devil involve, especially since it is ‘in Christ’ by the Holy Spirit that we overcome. In contrast to Green’s dividing of our experience of temptation from the messianic nature of the account of Christ’s temptations, Irenaeus, in putting the temptations of Christ at the centre of his account of how Christ recapitulates Adam’s fall without giving into sin[2], brings together the messianic nature of Christ’s temptations with the basic experience of human sin in Adam which we all share.

Neither Green nor Chrysostom miss the parallel between Christ’s temptation with the bread and Adam and Eve’s with the fruit, though this is not explicit in the text. Here is a hint in Matthew of Christ as the ‘new Adam’ expressed by Paul[3] and detailed so thoroughly by Irenaeus in his exploration of the divine economy. But there are other parallels too, not least Israel in the wilderness, succumbing to the devil’s temptations instead of overcoming them (Green p.83 with reference to Deut.8:2 as the verse immediately preceding Jesus’s quotation).

One other interesting point about the temptation to turn stones into bread is pointed out by Chrysostom: this is not a temptation to break any law. In fact, were we to receive such a temptation, we may not even see it as such, as it contravenes no ethical instruction. Nonetheless, just as Paul cast out a demon (Acts 16:18) that was doing nothing but identify him as a preacher of salvation, we have to be wise to all the devil’s wiles, and learn to discern when the devil speaks, as even when we cannot see the evil in what the devil suggests, we should know that he is using something not necessarily bad in itself to lead us down to a darker place. Once we have started on that downward path it is hard to climb back up from it.

Green points out the messianic expectation of the Jews based on the experience of the manna given by God in the wilderness of the Exodus: the Messiah would do the same[4]. However, apart from this, Green doesn’t speak of the significant place that eating has in this pericope (perhaps because of his separation between the ‘messianic’ nature of the text in terms of showing who Christ is and the nature of Christians as the Church, the body of Christ, now on earth[5]). Chrysostom shows no such division, and therefore sees the connection here between the fasting of Jesus mentioned in Matthew and the baptismal candidates’ fasting, the temptation to turn stones into bread, Adam’s taking of the forbidden fruit, and even the indication in Ezekiel 16:9 that the basic sin of Sodom was “fullness of bread” which resulted in all their other sin. He also says that, just as with Job, the devil loves to begin with the weak and most base appetites, only progressing to the more beguiling (vainglory and riches) when these fail. Thus, fasting, following Jesus’s example, is a key way to be prepared to do battle with the devil.

Speaking of battle with the devil, Green draws an excellent parallel between Christ’s use of the expression ‘it is written…’ and Eph. 6:17: ‘the sword of the Spirit… is the word of God’. Indeed the whole of the passage Eph 6:10-20 is useful parallel reading to Mt 4:1-11 in terms of the spiritual struggle. Finally, John Chrysostom points out, that after the battle, Matthew tells us that angels came and ministered to him, and that this is a promise also to us, that having stood up and done battle with the devil, we will not be left comfortless.

[1] He suggests that Luke, in his version of this story, by the use of his phrase ‘when the devil had ended every temptation’ (Lk 4:13) implies that there were more than the three specified in the text.

[2] Against Heresies 5:21: “recapitulating all things he also recapitulated the war against our enemy… utterly crushing him, and striking his head with his heel.”

[3] Rom 5:12-21 and 1 Cor 15:21-23

[4] And hence, according to Green, the excitement in Jn.6:5-15.

[5] Although his mention of the manna in the wilderness and the comparison with the passage in John’s gospel implies the close connection between the manna and the Eucharist (especially reading further in Jn 6:22-66), Green doesn’t follow this up.

Repentance is, according to the footnote in the Orthodox Study Bible, “the necessary first step in the Way of the Lord” and according to Green, “the inescapable beginning”. It is only a beginning, as the Forerunner points out: it needs to be followed by the “fruits worthy of repentance” (v.8). Repentance is clearly the first thing that is common between John’s baptism and Christian baptism, but the latter is more: “He who is coming after me… will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire” (v.11). Baptism with the Holy Spirit is prefigured in Christ’s own baptism by the descent of the Spirit in the form of a dove. But though the Holy Spirit comes as a comforter, as a sign of hope, like the dove that brought the olive branch to Noah (as John Chrysostom points out), he also brings a fire that will burn the tree that does not bear good fruit, the fruit of repentance, along with all the chaff (vv.10,8,12).

If baptism is about repentance and the descent of the Holy Spirit[1] then why was Christ himself, without sin and already with the Holy Spirit, baptized? John Chrysostom wonders that we who have accepted Christ’s acceptance of the Virgin’s womb and the humiliation of human nature would be surprised at his acceptance of this further humiliation for our sake. He points out that the Baptist’s words make it clear that Christ does not need baptism for any of the reasons it is given, but that the fulfilment of all righteousness requires that Christ, who has taken on our nature and our sin – the “very purpose of my assuming flesh” (p.76) – undergo, in Green’s stark phrase, “baptism on the cross” (p.80).

Among the various other reasons listed by Green (p.80-81) why Jesus was baptized, is that Christ was leading where we should follow. John Chrysostom goes further, saying that in Jesus’s baptism, John’s baptism ceases and “ours takes its beginning” (p.78), comparing this to Christ’s fulfilment of the Passover in the Eucharist. I do not think it is stretching what Chrysostom indicates to say that just as in Christ the bread and the wine become the thing signified, so in Christian baptism, following the baptism of Christ himself, the sign of repentance and forgiveness of sins comes to bear the means of achieving what is signified, through the descent of the Holy Spirit. Green notes that Jerome said “the mystery of the Trinity is revealed in the baptism”, and this also demonstrates that in Jesus’s baptism everything has changed: when baptism is offered in Christ, in the Church, it is always to be a Trinitarian baptism, and not a baptism for repentance only.

Chrysostom also focuses on the expression (v.16) “the heavens were opened” to show us that this is what happens to us at our own baptism – the heavens are opened and accessible to us, and the Holy Spirit descends on us just as on Christ, and just as on the apostles at Pentecost, even though it may be now in silence, as signs are “not for them that believe, but for them that believe not” (1 Cor.14:22). In this he reinforces the point that Jesus’s baptism was for our benefit. (Here, Chrysostom presents a much stronger and more holistic view of reality than Green, who speaks of baptism being “a pledge of the gift of the Spirit”, p.80.) The gift of the Spirit in baptism and in Pentecost is, as Green points out, a fulfilment of the prophets: Jeremiah, Ezekiel and Joel all speak of this time in anticipation – “After this it shall come to pass that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh… and there shall be proclamation of the good news to those whom the Lord himself called.” (Joel 3).

[1] Green lists five ‘themes’ of baptism, Matthew’s explicitly noted “repentance, forgiveness of sins and the fulfilment of all righteousness” along with the implied “mark of sonship and… gift of the Spirit” (p.80) and has earlier mentioned the distinguishing features of John’s baptism from the Jewish practice of purification-baptism as a sign that birthright is inadequate for salvation, the requirement for baptism to be received from the hands of another and not self-administered, and its eschatological nature (p.77-78). As well as the five, these latter three would also seem to apply to Christian baptism.

The genealogy at the beginning of Matthew’s Gospel presents many challenges and questions: the division around Abraham, David and the Babylonian captivity; the missing 14^th generation; the presence of certain named women; and the difference with the genealogy in Luke being a few of them that seem to jump out. Lest we should think that these are questions of the modern mind, John Chrysostom covers them all and more in his first homily on Matthew (pp6-7)… although he does not necessarily provide the answers, at least in this sermon.

John Chrysostom connects the first two questions together, although we have to move to Homily IV to find it. He considers that the missing generation[1] is the Babylonian captivity itself, heading the third section: thus demonstrating that neither under an ‘aristocracy’ (Abraham, the first group), nor under a King (David, the second group), nor under an ‘oligarchy’ (the Babylonians, the third group) does Israel escape its need for a Saviour, and the Saviour is born at last – the last of the generations. Green does not consider the question of the missing generation at all, instead focusing on the three names: Abraham, David, Jesus, and especially on the latter two. He points out that the number 14 is taken from the Hebrew number read from the letters of David’s name, and sees the genealogy as a move from the beginning of the chosen people (Abraham) to the height of their history (David) and the depth (Babylon) culminating in Jesus “great David’s greater Son” (p58). Thus for Green, the construction is an aid to memorization, and therefore a selective, rather than full, genealogy; hence, the differences between Matthew’s and Luke’s. It is undeniable that the system is based around Abraham-David-Babylon and culminating in Christ, and that it says much more than may at first meet the eye if one views it as a straightforward ‘family tree’.

Green’s theory as to the difference between Matthew and Luke, that Luke is tracing Mary’s rather than Joseph’s line, is not entirely convincing, perhaps being born more out of the evangelical Christian’s need to eliminate all contradiction than from a straightforward analysis of the text. It is not impossible, but that Luke, having (unlike Matthew) not mentioned any women in the genealogy, should actually be compiling the genealogy of a woman without even mentioning that he was doing so is surely unlikely at a time when even Matthew’s inclusion of women would raise eyebrows. (John Chrysostom tries to argue that Matthew traces the genealogy of Joseph so as to protect Mary against stoning as an adulteress by not revealing the virgin birth, an argument which could support Green in Luke’s Gospel, if it weren’t for the fact that both Matthew and Luke proclaim the virgin birth clearly.) Having already pointed out that Matthew’s genealogy is selective rather than exhaustive, Green probably does not need to argue the point further. Instead, the differences between the genealogies are rather covered by John Chrysostom’s contention (I pp3-4, echoed by Green, p63) that the minor differences between the Gospel writers are evidence for their truthfulness: in bearing witness to genuine traditions rather than colluding to fabricate a story, they repeat what they know.

Chrysostom also suggests that there was a rule that one married within the same tribe and even house, and that proving Joseph is of the house of David is therefore the same as proving that Mary (and therefore Jesus) is of that line. One could alternatively argue that it demonstrates adopted sonship is equal in all ways to biological (as we are adopted sons of God, grafted on to the tree of Israel, as St Paul says).

Some may be surprised that it is Matthew who names women in the genealogy rather than Luke. Both Green and Chrysostom note the kind of women who are represented here: those who started off as women of ill-repute one way or another (although probably by Jesus’s time they may have been remembered more as Biblical heroines). Green uses this to make the point that the genealogy shows that Christ brings together all the old divisions between man/woman, Jew/gentile, even righteous/sinner.

There are so many other interesting topics in these chapters and the discussions by Green and Chrysostom: the star and its possible provenance, the great parallelism between Moses and Christ based around the flight into and calling out from Egypt, the meaning of the gifts, the Christological titles. One other interesting point that I would like to pick out is the one John Chrysostom makes about the apparent foolishness of the Magi (VI pp36-7). These supposedly ‘wise’ men, having seen a star, embark on a long and dangerous journey in order to arrive in a country with an existing king only to tell him that a new king has been born in his land, a king of such importance that a great sign has been sent to announce his birth. Messengers with such a message would be lucky to escape with their lives, and it was only through angelic intervention in the end that they did. Nonetheless, when there must have been other magi who saw the sign, these, the fearless before Herod, were the ones who actually heard God’s call and followed (VI p39). Green makes the point that even from the very beginning, the incarnation divided people into those who welcomed Christ and those who hated him (p65). The Magi fall into the first category: those who are ready to respond to God even though in doing so they are foolish in the eyes of the world. Herod, falling into the latter category and living in accord with the world’s wisdom, hated instinctively any threat to his worldly power. As Green says in reference to Herod and his slaughter of the innocents (p72), “If we are determined to go our way at all costs, we will go to any lengths to eliminate all trace of Jesus and his claims on our lives.”

[1] In fact, he initially sees only 12, since he does not count Jesus as one of the ‘generations’, but in adding both the Babylonian captivity and Jesus, he comes to the requisite 14.