Daniel Boyarin, The
Jewish Gospels: The Story of the Jewish Christ, New York: The New Press,
2012, ISBN 9781595584687.
Daniel Boyarin’s newest book argues that Jesus was fully
Jewish and that the gospels are equally fully Jewish. He argues that there were
sects of Judaism that were expecting the Messiah to be both human and divine.
He further argues that Jesus’ activities can be understood from the framework
of second temple Judaism. He considers the Jewish background of the terms “son
of man” and “son of God” and explains what these terms meant to some in the
late second temple period. Further, he considers Mark 7 considering kosher law
as an example to consider as it is often used to show discontinuity between
Jesus and Judaism. Boyarin argues that Jesus’ argument in Mark 7, while being a
critique of the Pharisee’s interpretation of Torah, was not in fact challenging
the Torah (or food laws specifically) at all. Boyarin’s work is a helpful book for all of those who are
unclear about the Jewish background to the Son of Man and Son of God language
in Daniel, or those who do not understand the difference between purity and
morality in Judaism. The strength of the book is that his thesis is quite
convincing – Jesus was surely Jewish and the Jesus movement, as expressed in
the New Testament, was in the Jewish framework for the most part. The weakness
of the book is that while the thesis is convincing, it is also mundane – most
people who are careful readers of the New Testament are quite clear that Jesus
was Jewish and this book only affirms what they already knew. However, some of
the specific points that Boyarin discusses are quite interesting and the book
ought to be read if only for these elements.
Brief Summary
Boyarin begins by arguing that not only was there not a
“Christianity” during Jesus’ lifetime, there was not even a “Judaism.” Speaking
of the terms as “world religions,” Boyarin is surely correct. Further, there is
no evidence in the New Testament, save th[1]e
book of 1 Peter, that the Jesus movement is seen as something distinct from
Judaism. The authors of the New Testament are not imaging a new world religion
– they believe they are expressing the truth in continuity with the truth they
have always known – that of Israel. This aspect is not surprising. What might
be more surprising is his argument that at this time there was no “Judaism.” He
points out properly that “Iudaismos”
– the Greek word meaning “Judaism” is not attested at this time period. The
term Iudaioi (Jews) certainly was,
but the “philosophy of Jews” (Judaism) did not yet exist. Boyarin’s point is
that not only was there not a monolithic group of Jews (as most everyone knows
about the sectarian differences in the first century – e.g. the Pharisees,
Sadducees, Essenes, etc.), but there was not even a concept of a monolithic
Judaism as a world religion. There were many Jews who believed many things with
a mostly common tradition – but they were not necessarily part of a monolithic
“religion.” They tended to identify with one another in meaningful ways, but
this was due to ethnicity in practice rather than a formal “religion.”[2]
After developing this theoretical framework, then Boyarin
shows what the titles “Son of Man” and “Son of God” meant in the first century.
The Son of God language, he argues, is the language attributed to David and his
descendents, showing the messiah to be a true king of Israel in the line of
David. The Son of Man language, he argues is developed from Daniel as a divine
being who acts alongside the “Ancient of Days.” This “one like a son of man” is presented in
Daniel’s apocalyptic section as the one who will come on earth, conquer, and
rule it. He then shows how the idea of God having a plurality (both the son and
the father being God) is not a problem in Judaism and that there was a
longstanding tradition developed from the Canaanite idea of God as two (El and
Ba’al) being expressed as one in the Hebrew Bible. The most famous example of
this is probably the scene at the “burning bush” in Exodus 4, half the time the
figure speaking is YHVH whereas the other half the time it is the “angel of the
Lord.” Notwithstanding the origins of this text (as it might well have been a
compilation), the final form of the text as it stands presents the idea well –
what the Canaanites considered as two gods, Israel considers one. There is the
idea of plurality and unity between these figures (this would be developed in
the Logos, Sophia, Wisdom concept as seen in Proverbs 8:22).
Boyarin then argues that the concept of a Son of Man and Son
of God being the same person was even understood in the late second temple
period. He considers the similitudes in 1 Enoch 14 as evidence that the son of
Man was messiah and a son of David. This is then corroborated by considering 4
Ezra which presented a new type of Messiah that would encapsulate both this son
of Man and son of David motif.
After the discussion of the titles son of man and son of
God, he discusses Jesus’ view about food laws in the Gospels. He argues that
Mark 7, if understood correctly, actually is supporting rather than challenging
kosher observation. He points out, as many have noted, that there is some
evidence that the Pharisees believed that the special purity laws which the
priests practiced ought to be practiced by everyone (though to be fair,
evidence for what the Pharisees believed is amazingly scant). Jesus then was
arguing against this interpretation
rather than against food laws a whole. He points out that there are certain
prohibited foods that all Jews are not to eat (pork, shellfish, etc.). There
are also certain practices of eating that could make someone “impure.” However,
this “impurity” is not the same as the forbidden foods. This impurity is that
which keeps one from being able to enter the temple and worship before one goes through a proper ritual.
Purity, definitionally, is a ritual rather than ethical category. The ritual
washing discussed in Mark 7 is argued as to be relevant for one before they
enter the temple to worship – it is not something that is simply forbidden at
all times for all Jews. Jesus then is arguing that this understanding of food
laws is problematic. He does not want to inadvertently make religion so hard
for people that it becomes elitist (Jesus’ main critique is less “what is the
kingdom of God” as much as “who can be included in the kingdom of God”).
Finally, Boyarin argues that the idea that the messiah would
suffer can be found as a midrash (interpretation) of Daniel. The one like the
“son of Man” is depicted as being crushed by the fourth beast before they rise
up and conquer him on high. This has traditionally been interpreted to mean all
of Israel rather than just the son of Man, but Boyarin shows that at least some
people could interpret it this way in Judaism.
Merits and Critiques
of the Book
Boyarin’s essential thesis is sound – of course Jesus’s message is rooted in and understood in a Jewish
context. Further, his analysis of sources in the Hebrew Bible which inspired
the theology of the New Testament is well done. He looks at one key text – the
book of Daniel – in order to understand the apocalyptic role of Jesus, which is
especially pronounced in the Gospel of Mark.
A further good discussion is his essential argument
philosophically that readers must cease from thinking about the early Jesus
movement as “Christianity” – meaning it had its own system as its own world
religion. While Jesus was alive, there of course was no system – there was only
a man. Even during the lifetime of Paul, there is no concept of a true
“Christianity” separate from Judaism (see my earlier review of J. Albert
Harrill’s book on Paul to see this issue and how it functioned in his life). Boyarin’s
reminder that there was also no “Judaism” at this time is a helpful comment
made for readers of the New Testament who at times forget that what they are
characterizing is more than one thing.
The greatest merit of the book, however, is in the details.
Boyarin’s discussion of Mark 7, the Son of Man, and the Son of God theologies
is well done. As will be detailed below, I disagree with some elements of what
he posited concerning the theology of “Son of God,” but the details are worth
consideration. His interpretative priority of Daniel (rather than Ezekiel) for
understanding Son of Man is well done (if into slightly reductive).
The detail about Mark 7 is incredibly well done,
particularly for a modern American audience for whom “purity” is not a term
that is understood well. Boyarin provides a perfect corrective by explaining
what purity is and is not. Purity is a ritual category that prepares one for
worship – it is not ethical. A women is not immoral for menstruating; however,
she is impure, she must go through a cleansing ritual in order to prepare for
worship. Morality is a separate issue that (possibly surprisingly) has nothing
to do with worship. If someone is acting immorally, no ritual cleansing is
going to help them – they need an ethical change (I am aware that atonement for
immorality is a ritual, but essentially, they are separate if not connected).
The challenge of this dichotomy that is probably most surprising to the modern
reader is that if someone was immoral, not only did they not have to deal with
purity rituals, that person would not necessarily be barred from worship. The
idea is that it did not matter what one had done morally, if they were taking worship seriously and going through the proper
rituals. Boyarin does an excellent job explaining this dichotomy as it pertains
to food laws. Jesus is challenging the theology that it is better to remain
ritually pure at all times (whether
one is preparing for worship or not) in addition to the standard moral
procedures.
The biggest challenge to the book is its scope. Boyarin
argues that this book will show that both Jesus and the Gospels are Jewish. The
challenge is that he does not show how he is reconstructing the historical
Jesus. Further, he does not show how all of the gospels present the Jewish
Jesus (he has little discussion of the Gospel of John, for instance, which is
the one most involved in Greek philosophy).
His argument depends upon the “apocalyptic prophet”
reconstruction of the historical Jesus. He views messiah through the lens of
Daniel to create an apocalyptic figure who reveals his identity through a
variety of means. I tend to agree with Boyarin on this point; however, his lack
of discussion of it makes this work incomplete.
Secondly, the apocalyptic Jesus is not necessarily present in all four Gospels. In the Gospel of Luke/Book of Acts, the kingdom of God apocalyptic message means a radically different thing and 9in the Gospel of John it is absent. His argument is very good if relegated to the Gospel of Mark. The Gospel of Mark is a type of gospel with an apocalyptic message which makes most sense when understood through the lens of the Son of Man in Daniel. Had Boyarin made this claim, it would have been far stronger.
The next critiques are less in scope than in details. The
first is his dependence upon the “son of Man” theology in Daniel that forgets
the same theology in Ezekiel (where it simply means “human”). I would not at
all be surprised for the Gospel of Mark to realize the term means both things
and use both in tension. Jesus is both the “one like a son of man” and very
much a human.
The second challenge is his argument about the “son of God”
theology. He is not wrong in the least that the language of son of God depicts
the kingly Messiah in David’s lineage. This is in keeping with the relationship
of David to God as depicted by father to son in 2 Samuel 7. However, Boyarin
tries to suggest that this makes some type of convoluted familial relation with
God in the divine. If that were true, then David would also be divine –
something that is not held by any Jewish group with which I am familiar. It
seems that his interest to show that the concept of a divine messiah has influenced
his reading of the data.
Finally, the chapter on the Jewish expectation that the
messiah would suffer is relatively weak. He does point out that there were some
interpretations of Daniel that could be understood as a suffering figure. He
then hypothesizes that being crucified and dying would qualify. However, he
does not discuss (as Paul does) that being crucified is a curse of the law.
Serious question can be asked if crucifixion would fit so neatly into his
“Jewish gospels.” Further, he does not have real evidence that the messiah was
ever to die. Suffering is distinctly
different than death and the gospels are quite clear that Jesus really died.
This also challenges this basic argument.
As a whole, the book is valuable for Christians to read – it
reminds them of some basic elements of the study of the New Testament. Further
the precise arguments about the son of man, son of God, and Food laws are well
worth the read. The book is written for a mass audience and as such is written
in a highly entertaining and enjoyable style.
[2] For more on
the nature of Jewishness in the first century, see Shaye Cohen, The Beginnings of Jewishness: Boundaries,
Varieties, Uncertainties (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001).
Great review! Thanks again for taking a request. The following are some of my reactions (Caveat: these points are based on your review and not the work itself, so he may have explained things in such a way to make my points void. Or I may have misunderstood something.)
ReplyDeleteA) If there is no monolithic Judaism, then how can one say the plurality of God is not a problem for Judaism? Which Judaism? For this to be a meaningful point, wouldn’t one need to establish that it was present in many Judaisms.
B) I think the Canaanite tradition of El and Baal is not a matter of two expressions of the same god, but two entirely different gods. Obviously the matter is complicated in the Hebrew Bible, since Yahweh can be described with characteristics appropriate for El and Baal. I assume this has more to do with transforming an originally polytheistic tradition into something more monotheistic, instead of as something pointing to the plurality of God. To further complicate matters both El and Baal operate as common nouns, so it is not always clear when a divine name vs a divine title are being invoked. A related problem is the nature of hypostatization in the ancient world. For example, how are Ishtar of Arbela and Ishtar of Nineveh related (if at all)? Do they function as “incarnations” of a more general Ishtar? If so, why do they receive separate entries in offering lists and other lists of deities?
C) The מלאך of Yahweh is a particularly thorny issue. In his article on the “Angel of Yahweh” in the Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible, S. Meier concludes “In cases where a simultaneous identity and discontinuity is uncomfortably present between Yahweh and his messenger, the term malʾāk is probably a secondary addition to the text in response to changing theological perspectives.” Meier also notes the lack of references to the “Angel of Yahweh” in the non-biblical Qumran material, despite their interest in angelology.
D) To be clear, I have no problem conceiving that the conception of God in Second Temple Judaism(s) and forward was probably more complex and varied than we usually think of it. However, I think more convincing evidence would come from more contemporary reflections on issues, such as the “burning bush” scene of Exodus 4.