One of the most influential Reformed and Puritan exegetes of the late 16th and early 17th century was William Perkins, whose works for the longest time were out of print until the 20th century. Andrew Ballitch has now done us all a good service (and thanks to Lexham Press as well) by providing a detailed exposition of Perkin’s hermeneutical method of interpreting Scripture, which involved the analogy of faith, context, and collation (the latter referring to the comparing of Scripture with other Scriptures). Ballitch’s treatment of his subject is thorough and helpful and quite detailed as well. He has certain done the research well. He is also candid from the start about Perkins living in a pre-critical age and operating out of a pre-critical approach to Scripture. The most fundamental principle or assumption is that Scripture is the best interpreter of Scripture. The book goes carefully through Perkins Sermons which in turn became commentaries, and then his practical and theological works, to demonstrate Perkins’ consistent use of those three means of interpretation— the analogy of faith, context, and collation. Ballitch without question proves his thesis (a thesis originally done as a doctoral dissertation).

But what was meant by the analogy of faith? In one sense this referred to the Reformed catechism which involved explanations of the Decalogue, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Apostle’s Creed. Sometimes however, it meant the whole of Reformed theology front-loaded into the interpretation Scripture. It is interesting how different this is from John Wesley’s use of the term analogia fidei by which he means that the consistent theme or red thread that runs through the whole of Scripture is justification by grace through faith (and this in spite of the fact that both his parents grew up in 17th-18th century English Puritanism and then converted to Anglicanism).

Indeed, it is often hard to tell which is more dominant the plain exegesis of the Scripture (and Perkins favors the literal approach except where impossible) or the Reformed theology as a lens through which one reads Scripture, including things like the doctrine of election, double predestination, imputed righteousness as well as imputation of Adam’s sin to the whole race, limited atonement, perseverance of the faith, and more. Yes, Perkins’ exegesis is often detailed, but when he gets to collation, it’s often a sort of catchword connection, when in fact the two or three passages compared do not in fact refer to the same subject. Further, there is the division of all sorts of things into the categories of law and Gospel, whatever parts of Scripture were being read.

There is no sense of progressive revelation in this sort of approach. So for example, Abraham is taken as an example of a person who looked forward to the Messiah and placed his faith in Him in advance of his coming. No….. Abraham trusted Yahweh and it was credited to him as righteousness. Much more along these lines could be used to critique Perkins (see my Biblical Theology volume with CUP), but we must thank Prof. Ballitch for plainly and clearly laying out Perkins’ approach to the Bible.

One thing that did give me pause in this book is the constant polemics against Catholic ‘superstition’ without making clear whether Ballitch is referring just to Perkins’ views, or the author’s views or both. More clarity on this would have been helpful, since Catholicism today is very different, especially in the light of Vatican I and II than it was in Perkins’ day. Nevertheless, this book deserves to be read as it fills a void and our understanding of Puritanism in the Elizabethan era, and the considerable influence Perkins had on subsequent Puritan divines.

BEN: I agree with you that Mark, at most reflects an elementary use of rhetoric, but one thing that gave me pause in reading Teresa Morgan’s work is that our thinking about levels of educations, perhaps even in different social locations with different teachers is much too stratified for the actual situation on the ground in most places in the Empire. Indeed, all three levels could be taught by one instructor in one local, with younger students bunched together with older ones, and younger students of good ability could go ahead to higher levels of
grammar and rhetoric, sometimes helped by the older students, and, if they had one, a paidagogos. Comments?

HELEN:

Yes, I agree. Scholars like to systematize and create order, and this does lead to understanding, but we always have to remember that reality on the ground is significantly more messy. My own schooling was at a local village school where several year groups shared the same teacher, and I started secondary school at a different time to my peers, so I have first-hand experience that even in modern developed societies the rules are often broken. There’s also the added complication that some students are just better than others and able to produce more with even a limited education. I suggest that Mark has broadly made it through to the end of the second/middle level of education, but with little real study of the topics set out so neatly in the progymnasmata (which, along with most people now, I’d put as a third stage). But a skilled communicator would doubtless learn from the wealth of public lectures, talks, teaching, drama, oratory etc and might well start to incorporate some of the techniques he heard into his work. Synkrisis (or comparison) is interesting in this regard. I don’t really think that Mark demonstrates much of the formal use of this technique as outlined by Theon and the other grammarians, but he does quite clearly use it (not only in his characteristic intercalations but all the way through in his juxtapositions of various episodes); he’s got it from somewhere – listening to readings, or perhaps even art (which juxtaposed scenes in a similar way) – and has brought it into his work. And although I said earlier that there’s no evidence for a specifically Jewish education system, it seems likely to me that a Jewish teacher might well teach Jewish students with the LXX, perhaps alongside (or even in place of?) Homer.

I must admit I am a sucker for good sports movies, but frankly there aren’t that many good basketball movies that actually involve good acting as well as good action, though Hoosiers is an exception to this rule. Ben Afleck’s The Way Back is an exception. Over time, Ben Afleck has become a good actor, though of course we could list some sad or bad movies he has been in. This particular movie tells the story of an out of shape former basketball star of the CYO leagues in California who never played college ball, from personal choice. The man called Jack Cunningham was all world in high school, but he has a lot of baggage, from neglect from his father, to his problem drinking, to the loss of his son to cancer at a young age, to separation from his wife. Indeed, a lot to overcome. And then he gets an invitation to become the coach of a rock bottom Catholic team at Bishop Hayes High. As you might imagine, the story line is the team becomes the comeback kids, under Jack’s training and tutelage, and make the playoffs for the first time since Jack played for the team in the 1990s. Afleck is convincing in his portrayal of a man battling his demons, and fortunately in this movie the story line is not ‘and they all lived happily ever after. It’s much more realistic than that. This is two hours of a good story well played, and it has some good psychological complexity. I especially enjoyed the mentoring of the kids into decent players under the coach’s regimens. During a time which usually amounts to a good movie desert, this movie is worth seeing, though not a classic.

BEN: We are called to love self-sacrificially, as Christ loved. That seems a very high standard indeed which we can only approximate at times. But it does make clear that Christ expects a lot of us. ‘To whom more is given….’. I have grown tired of the mistranslation of the famous verse in Philippians which actually reads ‘I am able…… all things in Him who strengthens me’. It seems clearly, in light of Paul just saying he has learned contentment in good times and bad, with and without material well being that the appropriate way to read that verse is not ‘I can DO all things…’ but rather ‘I am able to endure with contentment all things… etc. Comments??

PATRICK: Yes, in John’s Gospel disciples are commanded to love one another as Jesus has loved them. Indeed loving one another is the only duty that is commanded in the whole Gospel. What that means is spelt out – Jesus lays down his life for his friends. This is love orientated to the good of others at cost to the self. It’s the very heart of Christianity. Of course all of this is much easier to understand in theory than do in practice! In the book I quote Francis Moloney, ‘Words about love can come easily enough; lives that demonstrate love are harder to come by.’ I happen to be married to someone who lives such a life but I agree with you that it’s a tough calling. It’s a long way from the sort of naïve positive thinking that you mention. I fail to be loving every day to the people I like, let alone to the ones I don’t! This is why life in Christian community is where the rubber really hits the road. Love hangs in there. It’s open-eyed about human failure – including our own. It seeks forgiveness and reconciliation. It’s honest. Churches are made up of all sorts of people and love is the only thing that’s going to hold it together if it’s going to flourish and grow. Perhaps it’s only such authentic communities of love that are going to make an impact on a (often rightly) sKeptical world.

BEN: Thanks so much Patrick for taking part in this dialogue I think it will definitely benefit our readers.

BEN: I think you make a good case for the speeches in Acts reflecting early Christian Christology and even Peter’s take on that. The Semitisms and distinct ways of labeling Jesus seem to reflect something primitive. Do you think there was a general apostolic outline that Peter and others followed when preaching, as C.H. Dodd long ago suggested, or would you see Peter as the innovator or first representative promulgating these ideas?

GENE: There’s the chicken and egg question, right? Vox Petri led me back to Dodd’s classic study and I asked the very same question. Where’s the genesis of the foundational structures of the early Christian kerygma? Given Peter’s role as the early church’s principle leader and theologian, I do not think that we’d be far off the mark if we regard him as a key player in the development of the kerygma. If not him, then who? Surprisingly, the Galilean fisherman demonstrates the creative reflexes and synthetic theological thinking to be the source of the apostolic teaching and the early theological tradition. This is by no means a proven point, but it would be unwise to bracket out Peter as we mull the origins of Christian theology, including its proclamation and praxis.

In most ways, the most helpful portion of Gene Green’s detailed study is the long chapter on 1 Peter.Lot’s of good exegesis and theological reflection can be found on pp. 301-400. In this chapter Green rightly demonstrates that 1 Pet. 5. 12 refers to writing briefly with the help of Silas about the various topics included in the letter. Peter is the author of this letter, and Silas is the facilitator, turning Peter’s ideas into some of the best Greek in the NT. Unlike say 1 Thessalonians, Silas is not indicated to be a co-author with Peter in this document. It would be helpful at some juncture if someone would try and put the pieces together about Silas/Silvanus’ role in early Christianity, considering he is one of the emissaries who circulates James’ letter after the Acts 15 council, he is a sometime co-worker with Paul, and a sometime co-worker with Peter as well as 1 Pet. 5.12 suggests. And unlike Titus, who is nowhere mentioned in Acts, we find Silas in all three sources. I am not convinced by Green’s argument that despite Eusebius (H.E. 3.1.2); Jerome (de vir il.1), and Epiphanius (27.6.6.) all telling us Peter went to Anatolia, and Eusebius is also clear he wrote 1 Peter to Jews, we should ignore this evidence, as if it was just a made up tradition these early Christian writers followed.

One of the things that needs to be reflected on is how very difficult it would be in a small religious movement to pull off a pseudepigrapha. The more particulars added to such a document, the less convincing it becomes because it could be cross-checked by near contemporaries. Green earlier in his study rightly notes that for the most part, 2nd-4th century forgers didn’t attempt phony letters from apostles, they tried other things like Gospels or Apocalypses of Peter, and by the way, even then they were often detected as phony. Elliot, whose commentary on 1 Peter is excellent in various ways, wants to maintain the letter was written by a Petrine community after the death of Peter, someones who knew Peter and his traditions and ideas. But surely the references to Mark and Silas in the letter closing itself, means they worked with Peter, and even if the letter was assembled immediately after Peter’s death on the basis of his teaching, it would still be his teaching. But what 1 Pet. 5.12 strongly suggests is that it was composed while Peter was alive, since it says he is writing briefly through Silas, not that Silas is writing for him ex post facto. There is a difference.

Green’s argument is that Peter is referring to the audience as resident aliens in a spiritual way, a status that happened to them after their conversion, which led to their marginalization. But nothing in the beginning of this document (cf. 1 Pet. 1.1,17; 2,11) suggests this. To the contrary, these social designations are simply mentioned up front without qualification, in the same way the list of provinces are mentioned. The person hearing 1 Pet.1 for the first time would simply assume the terms were meant literally (see Elliot on this). And in any case there is no need to talk about a Diaspora, that is a dispersion of persons if they are all, or almost all Gentiles. Gentiles had not been scattered into Gentile lands. The term is a Jewish one referring to actions taken on or by Jews, just as in James 1. And consider the exhortation in 1 Pet. 4.2–‘you’ve spent enough time already doing what Gentiles like to do’. This is a very odd remark if Peter is addressing those who were always Gentiles– rather he is distinguishing them from Gentiles in that verse and telling them to stop acting like Gentiles, something they are not!

For my money it is Chapter 8, which begins on p. 315ff. which is the very best chapter in the whole book, which helpfully walks us through the theology in 1 Peter, and shows what an important contribution Peter makes to early Christian theologizing. This should be required reading for Protestants who practice benign neglect of this letter. Green is right that there is a strong emphasis and theology of grace in this document. Green takes a more Calvinistic approach to the language about ‘foreknowledge’ in 1 Peter which he takes to mean pre-ordaining, but as Origen and Chrysostom made clear long ago, the term in question doesn’t mean pre-destine, it means knowing in advance, as I point out at length in my 1 Peter commentary. Not everything God knows, in advance, has he willed in advance, and in particular he has not willed sin or evil and yet he knows it.

There is a strong and helpful discussion of vicarious atonement through Christ’s death on pp. 354ff. and here Green is spot on, as the Brits would say, as Peter draws on a profound reflection on Isaiah 53 to craft his thoughts on this subject. I will leave the readers of this blog to soak up much more of this good book on their but would remind them of Sir Francis Bacon’s advice: “Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not curiously; and some few are to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention.” Gene Green’s book is of the latter sort, and kudos to him for writing it.

In his helpful discussion of the Son of Man material in Mark, Green is quite right to stress the background being found in Dan. 7, and that Jesus is making some remarkable claims about himself as a transcendent figure who’s reign will be everlasting, and who will judge the earth, including judging those who end up judging him in the Jewish trial before Caiaphas (see Mark 14). “The Son of Man sayings hold together the central realities of Mark’s Christology.” (p. 179).

In an interesting suggestion, Green thinks that the feeding of the 5,000 by Jesus (which does indeed portray him as the compassionate shepherd feeding sheep who lacked such a shepherd) foreshadows the last supper with the disciples. (p. 183). I must say I fail to see the connection. One is a meal for non-disciples involving bread and fish, the other a sacred meal with disciples involving bread and wine and the promise of a new covenant. The former is just an act of compassion as the text suggests, the latter is much more. Does the feeding miracle echo the manna from heaven story in Exodus? If so the echo is faint, because Jesus is not really portrayed as a new Moses in Mark. A better case can be made for that in Matthew.

More insightful is the suggestion that we compare the rending of heaven and the dove coming down on Jesus in Mk. 1 with the rending of the temple veil, which symbolized the heavens (p. 187). But what are we to deduce from the use of the same word for ‘rend’ in each case? Green takes the latter to mean that God’s presence is made available to all by the death of Jesus. But the immediate context, including Mk. 13 suggests rather that God has abandoned the building, and this is part of the coming judgment on the Temple. So at the beginning the divine presence comes and dwells on Jesus, and at the end, when Jesus dies, the divine presence leaves the Temple, due to the rejection and death of Jesus. This best comports with the parable of the vineyard which also signals coming judgment on the Jewish authorities who run the temple.

Green’s treatment of the ‘messianic secret motif is said to be ‘about crowd management in the face of Jesus immense popularity.” (p. 192). That may be part of the issue, but it would be better to say this motif is part of the apocalyptic ethos of the document— Jesus will reveal his identity in his own way and at his own timing, and in any case he doesn’t want a credit rating from demons who know who he is. The silencing motif must be compared to the revelatory disclosure motifs to the disciples, for instance in Mk. 9.

I’m am less convinced than Green is that some of Mark’s presentation is meant to counter the rise of the imperial cult, by offering Jesus as the reality of which Caesar is the parody (a line from Tom Wright). And I am puzzled by his reading of the word of the centurion at the cross when Jesus dies. This is not the Roman empire representative recognizing the real Son of God, as opposed to the Emperor. A careful look at the Lukan parallel makes rather clear that the exclamation more likely indicates that the soldier saw Jesus as an innocent and righteous man, who died with divine dignity, unlike most crucifixion victims, and thus ‘a son of the gods’. Yes this may foreshadow Gentiles later confessing Jesus as Son of God, but it must be remembered that a pagan thought there were numerous sons of the gods, not just the emperor. The historical reality of that moment is not about a centurion suggesting here is the real Son of God (and Tiberius is not).

Is Christ portrayed as the Passover lamb in Mark? Mk. 10.45 indicates he is portrayed as the vicarious sacrifice providing a ransom for the many, with a possible allusion to Isaiah 52-53, but it must be remembered that the Passover is not about atonement for sins. Rather it is about an apotropaic sacrifice with the blood of the lamb averting judgment on God’s people, which instead falls on Pharaoh’s people. The last supper story in Mark does not highlight Jesus as the Passover lamb, indeed there is no mention of a lamb of any kind in that story. I also do not think Mark. 16.8 is the original ending of that Gospel, but take seriously the suggestion of Papias that the original form of the work was unfinished (or perhaps more likely the original ending was lost, since it would be at the end of the scroll, on it’s outermost edge. See the study by Clayton Croy on this). Green is right however that in any case we have the angelic announcement that Jesus is risen.

In regard to Mark’s portrayal of the disciples, I found quite helpful Green’s quoting of Whitney Shiner (on p. 211):
After examining various philosopher/student relationships and comparing it to what we find between Jesus and his disciples Shiner concludes: “Unlike the followers of philosophers and wisdom teachers, the disciples of Jesus are shown to have no apparent merit. While other teachers draw their students from the intellectual and moral elite, Jesus gathers an undistinguished group… on the margins of Jesus’ society.” Just so. And Green is insightful in stressing that while disciples must take up their crosses and follow the example of Jesus, even unto martyrdom, still “Jesus moves from being the imitable model of service to doing that which is inimitable ‘And to give his life as a ransom for many'” (p. 229). The disciples may be martyred but their deaths do not atone for sins. Jesus is their moral example, but as Green says, he is much more than that.

Much has been made of how the first disciples of Jesus appear more like the DUH-sciples especially in Mark. In particular, Peter at times comes across this way, for instance when Jesus at Caesarea Philippi starts explaining that he is going to die. The burden of John Markley’s article is to demonstrate that one needs to understand the nature of apocalyptic ways of discussing things to understand what’s going on. The point is that one would not understand such mysteries as the Son of Man being the Messiah without revelation from God. Markey however puts it this way: “human imperception in the face of divinely revealed mysteries” (p. 101). He’s talking not about spiritual imperception without revelation, but rather imperception because of the very content or nature of the revelation. “Such responses are designed to identify the limits of the seer’s unaided human comprehension while he encounters divine revelation.” (p. 103). But this is not the whole problem. As the quotation of Isaiah 6 in Mark 4 shows, the problem is also the hardness of human hearts which was being critiqued in Isaiah 6. When one is in a spiritually dull state, even revelation requires extra explanation from Jesus to make sense of it. But yes, it is true that human imperception in the face of revelation, or in the face of the need for it, puts a different spin on things. It means that we can’t evaluate the lack of understanding by Peter or others as ‘a negative portrait’ of Peter. It reflects the human condition in general in the face of revelation. Markey rightly points to Daniel as a help for us to understand what is going on in these portrayals of the disciples. There, even Daniel the great prophet cannot understand his visions without extra explanation from angelic sources (see Dan. 8.27 and 12.8). His confusion is not presented in Daniel as reflecting negatively on him. Exactly right. See also 4 Ezra 10.35 who says he saw and heard what he did not understand. The angelic interpreter then has to help him understand it. Mark 8.32-33 has Jesus critiquing Peter when he argues against Jesus’ getting himself killed, telling Peter he is ‘thinking humanly’ rather than from God’s revealed perspective. Markley however wants to suggest that Peter’s imperception is part of a positive portrayal of Peter as a seer. This seems a stretch to me. Even in Daniel, imperception is not a sign of being a prophet, it is a sign of even a prophet being in need for further enlightenment. In other words, its not a flatter portrayal, it simply shows that Peter partakes of our human limitations and lack of understanding, which in itself is not a negative thing, just a normal thing.

Jonathan Lo (pp.62-75) revisits the Petrine speech found in Acts, in light of Greco-Roman parallel historical works and how those works handle speech material. He quotes my colleague Craig Keener affirmatively when he says that historians were allowed to put speeches in their own vocabulary, provided he did not invent content. Lo however concludes that the fact that there is a resemblance between the speeches in Acts and those in ancient historians in regard to both style and content is inconsequential to whether they reflect historical realities. This is not correct. It all depends on which historians Luke is most like, and the evidence suggests he follows those who were more conservative in handling the speech materials— namely Thucydides and Polybius. Lo makes much of the fact that the basic outline of content in Peter’s speech are pretty much the same in all his speeches—reference to the death of Jesus at the hands of his fellow Jews, Jesus’ resurrection, exaltation to the right hand of God, an emphasis on the apostles as witnesses, an exhortation to repent and receive forgiveness of sins. This could suggest there was a typical pattern to early apostolic preaching (see C.H. Dodd’s classic study on this). However, and it is a big however, the message found in Peter’s speeches however similar to each other differ from the other speeches in Acts with the exception of Paul’s early speech in Psidian Antioch in Acts 13.This may establish the continuity between Peter’s and Paul’s preaching to Jews. But it is clearly different from Paul’s other speeches in Acts, however they were directed to non-Jews. The notable Semitic phrases like ‘times of refreshing’ or times of restoring of all things could suggest archaizing by Luke, but more likely it tells us something about the source material Luke was using when it comes to Peter’s speeches. Note the unique and archaic phrases applied to Jesus in Peter’s speeches such as Jesus as the Just or Righteous One, Jesus as the author of life or as God’s servant.

In his conclusions, Lo helpfully summarizes as follows (p.74): “the length of the speeches in Acts is considerably shorter than those found in other works of ancient history, suggesting that the speeches are not vehicles for Luke to demonstrate his rhetorical ability through expansion but rather succinct summaries of lengthier addresses.” He also notes that Luke was chronologically closer to the time his speech material was first spoken than either Thucydides or Livy were. Lo suggests that a close attention to the way Luke uses and edits Markan material which he takes over in his Gospel suggests he is a conservative editor, though he phrases things in his own language. Luke’s use of Mark shows he is a reasonably faithful redactor, according to Lo.