Chapter 12: The War of the Lamb

Summary

1972: With our focus on Jesus and Paul, other biblical witnesses have been left out, notably Revelation. Christian social ethics is obsessed with discovering the meaning and direction of history. It turns out this is no easy task because of the plethora of free agents in play. Revelation provides a better solution that trying to decode history. John reminds us that “the cross and not the sword, suffering and not brute power determines the meaning of history” (232). Indeed, Jesus’ faithfulness to the enemy led him to give up his own handle on the meaning of history to be faithful to the will of God.

Jesus chose to give up providential control of history. This is eloquently recorded in the Philippians 2 hymn. Jesus’ example determines the type of pacifism we choose. Jesus wasn’t a pacifist in order to manipulate events to a certain end—he gave up concern for the end to live faithfully to God.

Therefore, the cross is not a technique to achieve an end. “The cross is not a recipe for resurrection” (238). The cross is the result of faithfulness. Pacifism then, not as the means to an end but as the result of faithfulness, provokes new questions such as,”Does it make sense to ask the public authorities in civil society to enforce standards of fraternity and equity which Christians can seek after in the church on the basis of the free assent of those who claim to be committed to Christian obedience” (239)? As our world moves away from its Christian heritage, perhaps the Apocalypse with its call to obedience rather then history-manipulation will become more crucial to the church’s existence again.

Our modern version of Christianity is wide-open to the Marxist criticism of promising a glorious future to help us forget our present. In the early church, the gap between present and hereafter was not important. The glorious future was the logical extension of the present trajectory. A recovery of this understanding would help the church see the relevance of Apocalyptic literature again.

1994: Much scholarship has been conducted since the first edition on the interpretation of Revelation. Unfortunately, many simply use a convenient interpretative grid to confirm their own views. In the end, biblical apocalypses remind us that Jesus is the key to understanding how God is acting in a sinful world. We must follow Jesus, not our modern infatuation with effectiveness.

Thoughts

Although this chapter was the least scholarly in the traditional sense (there were not footnotes), Yoder’s writing is as complicated as ever. In the end, it was worth the reading and rereading for the insights gleaned.

One of the questions that has confused me over the years is, what right do Christians have to expect the state to enforce Christian morality on the public? It was good to hear Yoder state this question outright, although no direct answers were offered. This chapter reminds Christians to be faithful to God within their own faith community, but it doesn’t really engage the original question. I suppose I’ll have to keep thinking about that one.

The main point of this chapter is a lesson that I and all pastors need to take to heart. Effectiveness doesn’t matter. Faithfulness does. Jesus gave up his claim to effectiveness when he emptied himself—obedience to his Father was what mattered.

I think the modern church would do well to focus on faithfulness and leave the matter of effectiveness to our Father.

< Ch. 11: Justification by Grace through Faith

Chapter 11: Justification by Grace through Faith

Summary

1972: One major objection remains to the premise that Jesus’ social ethic was active and important in the early church. The primary message of Paul has been understood to be justification by grace through faith, especially since the Protestant Reformation. Works (i.e. social ethic) has nothing to do with Paul’s major emphasis … or does it?

Modern scholarship has called the traditional understanding of Paul into question. Stendahl challenged the traditional view on three points:

1. Paul is not preoccupied with personal guilt.
2. Paul didn’t view the law as a tool to make people see their guilt—it was the gracious order of God for the Jewish people as they awaited the Messiah.
3. Paul didn’t understand faith as a personal journey of self-discovery—it was a statement that the Messiah had come, which separated Jews from Christians.

Paul’s main concern was the social form of the church: should Gentiles follow the Jewish law? When he speaks of his sin, it’s not personal guilt so much as his failure to recognize the Messiah.

Paul made it clear in Ephesians 2:11-26 that the hostility which Christ ends is not God-man, but Jew-Greek. This same thing is discussed in Galatians 2:14ff. The works of the law that don’t justify are not good deeds, but the Jewish attempt to force their law on Gentile believers. Justification, then, is God’s peace-making between Jew and Gentile. Even Paul’s letter to the Romans is rife with his concern for Jew-Gentile unity.

The strongest text that would use to stress individualism is, “If anyone be in Christ he is a new creature” (2 Corinthians 5:17 AV). As we saw earlier, it’s better to translate this, “If anyone be in Christ, there is a whole new world!”

1994: Much of this chapter is rooted in the renewed study of first-century history. This view of Paul begins to transcend the anti-Jewish bias of European scholarship from earlier generations.

Thoughts

It’s strange reading a whole chapter on the New Perspective on Paul without hearing the words, “New Perspective” mentioned. I’m sure interaction with Sanders, Dunn, and Wright would only strengthen what Yoder was trying to say.

I felt at times that he was being too reductionistic. It’s as if in his attempt to stress the social ethic of Jesus in Paul’s writing about justification, he denied any personal aspect. Of course, this wasn’t his intent—the pendulum had shifted so far toward the individualistic, a good dose of social emphasis was needed.

The one thing that struck me as very interesting was Yoder’s view of Luther. He emphasized that Luther’s reading of scripture was determined by his own questions and preoccupations. Luther was concerned with personal holiness so that’s the problem Paul answered. Yoder took the whole chapter to show that the social dynamic between Jew and Gentile was Paul’s concern. I can’t help but wonder if the social dynamic is as much Yoder’s question as personal holiness was Luther’s.

< Ch. 10: Let Every Soul Be Subject: Romans 13 and the Authority of the State

Ch. 12: The War of the Lamb >

Chapter 10: Let Every Soul Be Subject: Romans 13 and the Authority of the State

Summary

1972: Romans 13:1-7 has traditionally been appealed to in order to support the God-ordained role of the state to wield the sword. It follows that if the Christian is enlisted by the state, a God-ordained structure, then the Christian would be exempt from the prohibition against murder. This view was shattered by Nazism. It is the purpose of this chapter to deconstruct the traditional view in six ways.

1. The New Testament approaches the topic of the state in many different ways. Consider the picture painted by Revelation or Satan’s claim during the temptation of Jesus. Romans 13 is not a central text in the New Testament picture.
2. Romans 13:1-7 must be understood within the context of chapters 12-13 as a whole. This section begins by urging readers to not be conformed to the world because of the mercies of God. The topic of love then continues in 13:8ff. Whatever Paul meant in Romans 13:1-7, it must be understood within its context.
3. Romans 13:1-7 does not affirm God’s divine institution of any particular government. God is said to order the powers, that is, to “tell them where they belong” (201).
4. Romans 13:1-7 cannot be used to support a Christian’s role in the military since it was written to people who had no voice or position in government.
5. The “sword” spoken of in Romans 13:4 is a symbol of authority, not license to kill. The symbol of the death penalty was a cross. The symbol of killing in the context of war was a spear.
6. Nothing in Romans 13:1-7 suggests that Christians lose their moral freedom in the service of the state. Subordination is not the same as unthinking obedience.

1994: There is not much to add to this chapter because Romans 13:1-7 has become less central to the discussion of the Christian’s relationship to the state in the ensuing years. Any study of this text must also consider the themes we have already studied of principalities and powers (ch. and subordination (ch. 9).

Thoughts

While I like the overall force of Yoder’s argument, there were moments where I’d want to consult with a New Testament exegete before buying in wholesale. For instance, I really want to believe Yoder’s point in (3) that God orders the government into its place instead of authorizing or ordaining it—I’m just not convinced that’s what Paul was trying to say. I was also unconvinced by a lengthy grammatical argument he undertook to demonstrate the Christian’s moral freedom. I believe the principle, but I’m not sure Romans 13:6 says that.

I really appreciated how he tied the themes of the principalities and subordination together in the discussion of the Christian’s responsibility to the state. He was speaking to the outsiders, not the power-players. We need to really consider what it means to read Paul’s words in a day (at least in North America) where Christians can be governmental power-players.

< Ch. 9: Revolutionary Subordination

Ch. 11: Justification by Grace through Faith >

Chapter 9: Revolutionary Subordination

Summary

1972: Many point to the Haustafeln (e.g. Colossians 3:18-4:1; Ephesians 5:21-6:9; 1 Peter 2:13-37) as proof that the early church simply borrowed their ethical instruction from earlier Hellenistic (especially Stoic) and Jewish sources since Jesus didn’t provide an adequate ethical foundation for the growing church. Dibelius championed this view. This movement can be interpreted either positively or negatively. Yoder disagrees that the Haustafeln was mere appropriation.

A careful examination of the Haustafeln reveals significant differences from Stoic sources despite the vague similarities.

1. Stoic morality urged people to live up to their own nature while the biblical Haustafeln stress the relationship between pairs (husbands/wives, slaves/masters, etc, children/parents).
2. Stoic morality spoke to individuals in the singular and gave no thought to women while the biblical Haustafeln includes all believers.
3. Stoic morality seeks insight into the nature of things and assumes the person will act accordingly while the biblical Haustafeln are cast in the imperative.
4. The biblical Haustafeln uses different vocabulary than Stoicism, even where the same point is being made (e.g. for obedience, Stoicism use peithesthai where the biblical Haustafeln uses hypakouein).
5. Stoic morality addresses man in his dignity while the biblical Haustafeln is addressed to the subject first (slave, children, wives). This is critical: the Haustafeln speaks to the subordinate person as a legitimate moral agent.
6. Stoic morality stressed a man’s freedom from bondage and obligation while the biblical Haustafeln urged people to willingly accept their station for the benefit of others because they have already transcended it in Christ.
7. Stoic morality motivated followers by calling them to the appropriateness of living according to the nature of things while the biblical Haustafeln refer to the example of Christ and their influence on their neighbour.
8. The biblical Haustafeln, after speaking to the subordinate person in the relationship first, turns to the dominant partners and calls them to subordination as well.

We see the ethical influence of the Haustafeln elsewhere in the New Testament. For example, consider the Corinthian women who were unveiling their heads. Paul called them to obedience, recognizing that the relationship of subordination was not a difference in worth (1 Corinthians 11:11-12). That said, people were not asked to seek subordination. For example, if a slave had the opportunity to become free, he should take it (1 Corinthians 7:21).

The voluntary subjection of the church was intended to be a key witness in the world. Since the old world’s structure is passing away and the new is dawning, voluntary subjection is understood as something to be willingly embraced. After all, the structure’s on its way out anyway. In subjection is witness.

1994: This chapter proved to be the most controversial one in the 1972 edition. Many, because of their ideological rejection of subordination, rejected the logic. Work on the Haustafeln has continued, with more attempts made to untangle Greek, Stoic, Hellenistic, and Jewish sources. The biggest challenge today is to discern how the Haustafeln can speak in the midst of modern presuppositions. The Haustafeln is a tactic for change in the light of Christ.

Thoughts

After reflection on this chapter, three points stood out:

1. Paul’s appropriation of Stoic models of instruction strikes me as similar to the ancient Israelite’s use of contemporary creation myths—it’s polemic. If Paul’s hearers would have been familiar with Stoic morality, then the part of the Haustafeln that would have jumped out at them would be the difference between Paul’s writing and Stoic thought. I wonder who’s continuing this work of subverting the mythos of our modern culture?
2. Next was a brilliant footnote. I’m used to reading 2 Corinthians 5:17 as it’s translated in the ESV: “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.” Yoder notes that there’s no need to link “new creation” with the individual person. Indeed, we could read, “If one is in Christ, behold a whole new world” (185)! I’ll need to explore the translation a little more, but just imagine how much broader and more generous that second translation is.
3. Finally, in the light of late twentieth century feminist and liberation theology, it’s refreshing and remarkably Christlike to consider the subversive revolution of accepting voluntary mutual subordination. I suspect the polemic power of Paul’s appropriation of the Haustafeln from Stoicism remains undiminished in our Enlightenment context.

< Ch. 8: Christ and Power

Ch. 10: Let Every Soul Be Subject: Romans 13 and the Authority of the State >

Chapter 8: Christ and Power

Summary

1972: Some have argued that Jesus’ radical personalism makes him irrelevant to questions of power and structure. When the post-Constantine Christians found themselves in positions of social responsibility, they had to look outside the New Testament for their ethical guidelines because Jesus had nothing to say about the subject. We need to examine the New Testament understanding of powers and see how it relates to modern views of the topic.

Since not everyone imagines the same thing when the words “principalities and powers,” or “thrones and dominions” are used, we need to see more specifically what Paul meant by these terms.

We used to write off those areas of Paul’s thought that dealt with angels, demons, or powers as something from an old-fashioned worldview. The World Wars of the twentieth century have driven theologians to look deeper at what Paul might have had to say about systemic evil. When we take the time to consider what Paul meant by the powers, we see that he does speak about power systems.

Paul often speaks of the powers as a fallen reality. It’s important to remember that they too were originally created by God for good (Colossians 1:15-17). Even fallen, God can use the Powers for good. Indeed, we cannot live without them. Powers (religious structures, intellectual structures, moral structures, and political structures), however fallen, give order to creation. In doing so, they are fulfilling the will of Christ, in whom they all hold together.

Jesus, in living a completely free human life, did three things to the powers (Colossians 2:13-15):

1. He made a public spectacle of them.
2. He triumphed over them.
3. He disarmed them.

He did this by breaking their rules and refusing to allow their self-glorification. His death revealed, conquered and disarmed the hyper-extended reach of the Powers. It is the role of the church to preach and live this freedom from the Powers. What may appear as weakness—the otherness of the church—is not mere withdrawal from the world, but active resistance.

The church itself is a social structure whose very existence is a sign of the power’s defeat. The church doesn’t attack the powers—Jesus did that. The church’s role is to resist being seduced by conquered foes. This resistance takes concrete form within. It’s only when the church has dealt effectively with unjust social problems within the congregation that it can speak faithfully to the powers without. We put the cart before the horse when we give in to the temptation of the Sadducees—seeking to be political power-brokers and game-changers.

Paul’s theology of the powers is misunderstood in two ways today. He did not say that the gospel only deals with personal ethics. He also did not suggest that the way to effect change is to change the heart of the powerful and let the change trickle down. The world is changed through the church. The church, to remain faithful to Christ, will at times refuse to even exercise power because the power structure is so corrupt that to try to change it from within would be a denial of Christ. This is not withdrawal but active resistance.

Just as humans are at the same time fallen yet redeemable, the powers of the world are simultaneously fallen and called by the church to return to Christ their Lord.

1994: This new vision of what Paul meant by “powers” has taken root. See, for example, Walter Wink, Anthony Tyrell Hanson, and Jacques Ellul. There is still a question about whether or not the powers are ‘real’ or metaphorical. This argument would be foreign to the first century hearers of scripture.

Thoughts

This chapter starts with a point I’ve been considering for a while. Jesus ministered to the politically powerless. How can we live his teaching in a post-Constantinian context? It seems like the current evangelical view is to take control of political power by lobbying for Christian leaders. Yoder labels this as giving into the temptation of the Sadducees. It’s worth considering when it’s time to withdraw from the political structures (powers) because to participate in them would be a denial of Christ.

Speaking of powers, I grew up imagining that the principalities and powers that Paul spoke of were creatures out of a Frank Peretti novel—real sulpher-laced demons. After exploring Walter Wink’s writing, I’ve started to think more about how they could be understood metaphorically. Yoder does a good job of categorizing the powers evident in our world: religious structures, intellectual structures, moral structures, and political structures. It makes perfect sense to see Jesus’ refusal to play by the Pharisee’s rules as one of the ways he conquered the religious structural “powers” of his day.

The redemption of the powers is another fruitful area to consider. Take moral structures for example. In submission to Christ, morality can flourish in its rightful place. However, when separated from it’s Redeemer, moral structures overreach their boundaries and produce rigid legalism.

This is another thought-provoking chapter worth rereading and exploring in greater detail.

< Ch. 7: The Disciple of Christ and the Way of Jesus

Ch. 9: Revolutionary Subordination >

Chapter 7: The Disciple of Christ and the Way of Jesus

Summary

1972: Since it’s possible to posit a gap between the kingdom Jesus announced (as recorded in the Gospels) and the shape of the early Christian church, we will now reflect on the apostolic ethical tradition. One of the strongest themes that relate apostolic ethics to Jesus is the idea of participation/correspondence which is described primarily by two overlapping metaphors: discipleship and imitation. This theme is based on the doctrine of imago dei, given new reality by in the New Testament by the Spirit.

Yoder proceeds to give a massive amount of primary evidence from the later New Testament books which he categorizes under the following three main headings:

1. “The Disciple/Participant and the Love of God”
2. “The Disciple/Participant and the Life of Christ”
3. “The Disciple/Participant and the Death of Christ”

The mass of evidence is not as neat as the headings (and subheadings) suggest. However, it’s clear that Jesus’ social-ethical Kingdom proclamation translated clearly into the context of the early church. It’s only an age that is unaware of Jesus’ social and political life that could understand a phrase like “dying with Christ” as a mystical reality instead of a very real consequence of discipleship/imitation.

We must be careful not to misuse Jesus’ cross in a way that makes it less than it is. It’s not just something that makes our suffering meaningful, or an inward experience, or subjective brokenness, or ascetic self-denial. It’s the to-be-expected result of Jesus’ social-ethical stance clashing with the powers of the world.

Again, the only way the New Testament church was called to imitate Christ was in his cross. This is the only way we can follow and imitate Jesus.

1994: Anthony Tyrell Hanson’s study, The Paradox of the Cross in the Thought of St. Paul (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1987) is a helpful companion to this chapter. He researches:

1. How paradox is a theological value
2. Paul’s scriptural citations and allusions
3. The overlap between Paul and the Gospels

Paul and the early church understood that they were continuing the work of the cross which was challenging the ethos of Caesar. Even the Franciscan theologian Bonaventure recognized that the only binding example of Christ on the believer was his cross.

Thoughts

It’s going to take me a while to think through the New Testament and digest the idea that we are only called to imitate Christ’s suffering and death. I’ve always understood Jesus’ tendency to spend time with undesirables as something to imitate—I suppose Yoder would suggest that that’s part of the way Jesus challenged the ethos of Caesar which led to his cross.

Yoder’s comments on the Golden rule in this chapter were also fascinating. He said that the Golden Rule is not Jesus’ key ethical concept. In fact, the “new commandment” (John 13:34; 15:12) is to love others as Jesus has loved us. Just think about that. It’s one thing to take out the trash for my neighbour when he’s on vacation because I hope he’d do that for me. It’s another thing to put my life on the line for him because that’s what Christ did for me.

I think I’m starting to see why Yoder isn’t popular. His Jesus leaves little room for the comfortableness of the modern church’s metaphorical cross.

< Ch. 6: Trial Balance

Ch. 8: Christ and Power >

Chapter 6: Trial Balance

Summary

1972: We agree that Jesus had a ethical-social vision of the Kingdom. Does that vision as recorded in the gospels translate into the rest of the New Testament? Again, we will not be exhaustive, but prove that Jesus’ ethical-social vision didn’t end with the ascension.

When Paul speaks about imitating Jesus, he focuses exclusively on his suffering—his cross. That cross is “the social reality of representing in an unwilling world the Order to come” (96). Jesus suffered because he didn’t give in to the temptations of quietism, establishment responsibility, or crusade. He modeled Kingdom life with all its ethical-social aspects. We are to suffer like Jesus.

The later theological reflections in the New Testament and early church on issues like Jesus’ preexistence and the Trinity were not attempts to make Jesus known outside his ethical-social framework, but to affirm on a broader scale his kingdom vision.

We’ve already looked at ebionitic ways of avoiding Jesus’ ethic (denying Jesus’ divinity). There are docetic attempts as well which deny, divorce, or otherwise downplay Jesus’ humanity. To return to a more orthodox view of Jesus, we need to reformulate our understanding of moral choice along five lines:

1. We don’t need to choose between the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith. We must not create a false dichotomy between them, but understand the revolutionary rabbi as he was and is.
2. We must not force a choice between prophet and institution. The prophet challenges and convicts the institution and the institution is reformed.
3. We don’t need to choose between an external catastrophic kingdom or an inward subjective one. The Kingdom of God is a social order in which grace and justice are linked.
4. We don’t need to choose between political and sectarian. Jesus’ non-violent stance was by default political without validating existing sides.
5. We don’t need to choose between the individual and the social. Radical individualism is a relatively recent idea foreign to Jesus.

1994: The idea that Jesus was wrong about the parousia, an element of (3) above, has been challenged often. “The not-having-come and the having-come of the Rule of God were both present in the faith of each biblical epoch” (109). To see the progression in Paul’s letters as explaining away Jesus’ belief in the parousia is to forget that they were written before the Gospels.

Thoughts

This was a challenging chapter to understand. It wasn’t that the vocabulary or sentence structure was particularly difficult—it took work to understand what Yoder was thinking as he approached the issues. After a couple times through the chapter I’m still not entirely certain I’ve got a handle on everything, but I’ve learned a lot.

I was fascinated by one of Yoder’s early points: Paul didn’t refer to imitating Jesus where it would have helped his case. A telling argument is Paul’s words on celibacy. He could have easily said that we need to follow Jesus in this, but he didn’t. For Paul, following Jesus was exclusively a matter of living for his kingdom vision and suffering the consequences.

The second idea that jumped out at me was the meaning of the cross. Yoder made it clear that the cross was the consequence of Jesus’ social-ethical stand for the Kingdom of God. He rightly affirms that we must resist glossing over Jesus’ life to get to the real reason he came—to die. (cf. that popular worship chorus, “Above All”: “You lived to die, rejected and alone …) While I agree with Yoder, I have this suspicion that he’s again taken his point to far. To be sure, the cross is nothing less than the result of Jesus’ Kingdom oriented life, but shouldn’t it be more?

The final light-bulb that went on during this chapter was his discussion of the (false) dichotomy between prophet and institution. There’s a tension in scripture between these two elements: Deuteronomy v. Ezekiel is a good example, mercy v. sacrifice is another. I had always assumed you had to choose your side (prophet or institution) and fight for it. Yoder helped me to see these two forces as a necessary cycle. Prophets criticize and call institutions to repent, then institutions respond and become healthier. You can’ t have one without the other.

< Ch. 5: The Possibility of Nonviolent Resistance

Ch. 7: The Disciple of Christ and the Way of Jesus >

Chapter 5: The Possibility of Nonviolent Resistance

Summary

Chapter five is a mere three pages long with one page consisting of a lengthy quote from Josephus. In it Yoder demonstrates that there were ways the Jewish people of Jesus’ day could resist Rome without turning to violent Zealotry. Using Josephus, he showed how the Jews would rather die than accept Caesar’s effigies in their holy city. Pilate was moved by their passion as they laid bare their necks to his judgment. The second time they tried this Pilate massacred them.

The Jews were also successful in non-violent protest when they went on strike in lieu of worshiping Caligula. A year without crops would have serious consequences for both Caligula’s tax revenue as well as the Jewish people’s food supply.

Thoughts

There’s not too much to say here. The history lesson was interesting. I think it’s a stretch to call these events nonviolent resistance. While the nomenclature’s technically accurate, the participants would obviously have had no idea of the baggage that term carries today.

< Ch. 4: God Will Fight for Us

Ch. 6: Trial Balance >

Chapter 4: God Will Fight for Us

Summary

1972: Here Yoder surveys key moments in Israel’s life where God fights so they don’t have to. This motif is grounded in the Exodus where Israel did nothing to destroy the Egyptians (Exodus 14:13). It continues on, being especially prevalent in 2 Chronicles. Even after the Exile, Ezra returned to Jerusalem without soldiers for protection because he trusted God (and was ashamed to ask).

We need to consider how the Jewish people in Jesus’ day would have reflected on these accounts. While we modern readers question the inconceivability of a God scattering foes while his people stand and watch, this is precisely what the pious Jews in Jesus’ day would have expected. The apocalyptic literature they read and wrote didn’t refer to out-of-earth experiences, but God acting on Palestinian soil.

1994: There are a few different ways Christians have tried to reconcile their beliefs with the Old Testament emphasis on war:

1. Some ignore the wars.
2. Some claim that war was fine then, but not in the new dispensation brought about by Jesus.
3. Some claim that our post-Enlightenment perspective qualifies us to choose which parts of Old Testament culture we use.

Many theologians are working to develop a Christian understanding of Old Testament Wars (i.e. Gerbrandt, Ollenburger, Neufeld, Brueggemann, Gottwald).

Thoughts

I really appreciate Yoder’s method for understanding Old Testament wars. We approach them from our modern perspective and misunderstand the narrative. War in the Old Testament was just a matter of fact. What stands out in a culture of war are the numerous times God intervened to save his people without them having to fight. While it’s always dangerous to argue from silence, I think it’s important that the Exodus 17 battle against the Amalakites, where Israel did fight, was not commanded by God. Indeed, they only won while Moses’ arms were raised to God.

All that said, shifting the violence from people to God doesn’t seem to me to satisfy our Christian sensibilities. Sure, the Israelites only had to watch from the shore while God closed the waters around the Egyptian pursuers. That still leaves us with a deity who slaughtered an army in a heartbeat—yet who also chose to take the violence of the world on his own body in the crucifixion.

I value Yoder’s perspective here, but it doesn’t answer all my questions.

< Ch. 3: The Implications of the Jubilee

Ch. 5: The Possibility of Nonviolent Resistance >

Chapter 3: The Implications of the Jubilee

Summary

1972: The thesis of this chapter is simple: Yoder believes that Jesus proclaimed a Jubilee year in his Nazareth sermon. (The entire chapter is an adaptation of André Trocmé’s work, Jesus and the Nonviolent Revolution.) Yoder sets out to discover allusions throughout Jesus’ ministry to the four elements of Jubilee:

1. Leaving the soil fallow
2. The remission of debts
3. The liberation of slaves
4. The return of family property

Leaving the soil lie fallow is not directly spoken of but assumed. He cites Donald Blosser who gives evidence of seven year grain scarcity cycles to show that this was already being practiced. Jesus’ words against worrying (Luke 12:29-31) are cited as allusions to the worries that come when you let the ground lie fallow to trust God.

The second two elements of Jubilee are “central in the teaching of Jesus” (61). The Lord’s prayer’s call to forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors refers properly to monetary debts (at least in the Matthew version—not necessarily in Luke). Yoder then cites two parables which can be more fully understood from the background context of Jubilee: The Merciless Servant and The Dishonest Servant.

The fourth element of Jubilee is assumed in Jesus’ command to the disciples to sell their goods and to give alms (Luke 1:30-33). This tough command is neither a higher rule for special saints nor a new constitutional law. It is the outworking of Jubilee.

1994: Here Yoder offers a few comments on scholarship which has helped his premise (Robert B. Sloan, Jr., Sharon Ringe, and Donald W. Blosser) as well as one scholar who has undermined his work due to heavy-handed rhetorical criticism (Jacob Elias).

Thoughts

Yoder follows the same MO here as he did in the preceding chapter. He states some solid truth then overstates the case for it. In the 1972 edition, he assumed that the Nazareth sermon referred directly to the year of Jubilee. In the 1994 epilogue he notes that this belief is not unanimous. I tend to believe that Jubilee was one ways Jesus spoke about the Kingdom, but I don’t believe it forms as much of the background of his teaching ministry as Yoder suggests.

For example, Yoder cited Luke 1:29-31 on not worrying for what you will eat drink or be clothed in as evidence that people were worrying about lack of produce since they were being called upon to enact the year of Jubilee. Yoder made this connection because of a thematic connection between Leviticus 25:20-21 and Luke. This smacks of eisegesis.

Yoder’s interpretation of the two parables from a Jubilee background also seem tenuous. Take the parable of the Merciless Servant (Matthew 18:23-35). Yoder assumed that the servant’s debt was forgiven by the king because of Jubilee. Then the servant refused to live according to Jubilee toward his servants. I can’t think of a way that this works. Who could the King be in this interpretation:

1. Casesar: Not interested in doling out Jubilee forgiveness to his Jewish subjects.
2. God: The king in the parable seems too heartless to be a type of God.
3. The Messianic Ruler (Jesus): Again, does the ruler sound like Jesus?

I think the king has to represent the authority of Rome which nullifies a Jubilee background. I need to pull Snodgrass off the shelf and see what he’s written about this!

To conclude: Yes! Jesus used the idea of Jubilee, which most scholars doubt was ever truly enacted, as a way to describe his Kingdom. That doesn’t mean it’s the controlling leitmotif behind every mention of “debt” in the gospels.

< Ch. 2: The Kingdom Coming

Ch. 4: God Will Fight for Us >