Patrick Schreiner
The Gospel of Matthew is known for many things, but his focus on the Spirit is not one of them. Luke typically gets the stage time for that theme. But the Spirit is active in Matthew. In this article, I examine the role of the Spirit in Matthew with an eye to the Beelzebul controversy and exorcisms in particular.
It is hard to know what to do with exorcisms in the Bible. Usually the conversation in America quickly turns to why we don’t see many of these anymore and whether we still have the power to exorcise. Underneath this discussion lies the assumption that exorcisms (and Christianity!) can be thought of as private, individualistic, and spiritual. However, much more should be discussed with exorcisms and the Spirit. Exorcisms are part of a cosmological, political, social, and spatial battle on this earth.1 I argue that the Spirit in Matthew gestures toward the new exodus and new creation. This helps us interpret the work of the Spirit and exorcisms. Both are cosmic, social, and political realities.
Matthew saw exorcisms by the Spirit as a sign of God’s impending kingdom. They dealt with individuals, but far extended individuals. I will employ a spatial perspective on one exorcism and illustrate the function of exorcisms as power over space and place.2 Spatial studies are gaining popularity across the disciplines, but biblical studies is behind in this regard. Neglect of spatial considerations stem from constricted views of space and place. Space has been thought of too narrowly, as extrinsic to human beings. But to be placed implies not only geographical and physical locations, but social, ideological, and mental places, or places of identity. Matthew makes explicit in the Beelzebul controversy that it is by the Spirit that Jesus casts out demons. The Spirit is the inaugurator of the new creation in the Scriptures and in Matthew. Rescuing bodies from the ruler of this earth is the means of spatial construction. A new ruler has put his foot on the space of the earth. Before I turn to Matthew more explicitly, it is important to show that exorcisms are bodily, cosmic, and social realities.
Exorcisms as Bodily, Cosmic, and Social Realities
Though we tend to still put exorcisms into the “private” sector of illness and healing, they are bodily, cosmic, and social realities. Bodies are placed and interact with cosmic and social experiences. This becomes apparent when exorcisms are placed in the cultural context of illness and healing in non-Western societies, or when methodologies such as embodiment and performance are employed.3 R. H. Bell maintains that although the concepts of demons and the devil are foreign to much contemporary thought, “The defeat of Satan is viewed as a fundamental aspect of the redemption of the human being.”4 The kingdom of heaven is present through the body of Jesus, and he extends it to other bodies through exorcisms.
Spirits are occasionally portrayed as exterior persecutors in the NT and earlier literature, but most often appear as interior inhabitants of the human body.5 A demon is cast out of the body. The demon is placed elsewhere. Readers see this in the transferring of demons from a person to a herd of pigs in Mk 5:13. The link between the body and spirit possession are unmistakable. In NT exorcisms, the most common terms employed are ἐκβάλλω (Mk 1:25–28; 5:8, 13; 7:29–30; Mt 8:31–32; Luke 4:41, 35–36; 8:29, 33–35; Acts 16:18) and εἰσέρχομαι (Mk 1:34, 39; 3:15. 22; 6:13; 7:26; 9:18, 28; 9:38; 16:9, 17; Mt 7:22; 8:16; 10:1, 8; 9:33–34; 12:24–28; 17:19; Luke 9:40, 49; 11:14–20; 13:32). The dismissal of the demon from its host is conveyed with the terms ἐκπορεύομαι (Acts 19:8–12), πέμπω (Mk 5:12), ἀποστέλλω (Mk 5:10) and ὑπάγω (Mt 8:31). All of these terms underscore the locative aspect of exorcisms. Exorcisms have to do with the body.
However, a body is placed in a cosmic and social sphere. Eric Sorensen states that in all the early Christian literature there is a clear connection between what spirits (both malevolent and benevolent) are doing at the cosmic level in conjunction with the unfolding of political and social events on the ground.6 Thus exorcisms are cosmic and social. Our blindness to the joining of these two realms could be the result of the secular-sacred divide that has clung to modernistic thought. In ancient times the religious/heavenly and the social/earthly were always intertwined. Something peculiar about miracles connects the two realms of heaven and earth, as does the body of Jesus. Philip Sheldrake argues:
Miracles unite, just for a moment, two places, two worlds. It occurs in ordinary time and space but the power is a manifestation of other-worldly place. The miracle overcomes the everyday dissociation of the two worlds and reveals their intimate not accidental connection.7
Heaven and earth collide in Jesus’ ministry. As Robert Charles Branden notes, there is “somehow an invisible hinge connecting heaven and earth.”8 Not only are the heavenly realms changing, but also the status of the earthly citizens is being transferred from one domain to another. God’s kingdom refers to God’s sovereign rule and space coming “on earth as it is in heaven.” Thus soteriological, eschatological, social, and political implications all come to the surface in exorcisms. The effects of possessions are erratic activity, dumbness, deafness, and mental disturbances. The demoniacs’ separation from their communities is a distinctive theme that occurs in almost all of the demonic portrayals in the New Testament. Therefore, exorcisms have wide-ranging implications.9
Those who have had demons exorcised also partake in social reintegration into the community.10 Christian Strecker calls the exorcisms transformances. Possessed persons are constituted anew with their ranks and social positions renewed. Thus the cosmic order is reestablished. The public nature of the exorcisms also highlights the social category. Few of them are performed in private. All see the performance so that the possessed person will be welcomed back into societal norms. Amanda Witmer comments, “The…experience is not limited to his own life. The social transformation of the man encompasses the entire community. The person with the spirit changes in the process, but so are others who participate through their presence.”11 Once a person’s status has been changed, the community must also change. Political and social events on the ground are changed as spiritual changes occur in a person. The two realms are intimately connected. In Matthew, this is seen with the use of the terms heaven and earth. Thus, in the exorcisms Jesus creates new bodies of space.
The Spirit in Matthew
In the Beelzebul controversy, the focus is not so much on the exorcism itself, but the source of the power. The exorcism itself only takes up one verse (12:22), while the rest of the passage describes the aftermath. The modern question of whether Jesus could do miracles and exorcisms does not rise to the surface; rather the main question is by what power Jesus performs these exorcisms.12
After Jesus has performed the exorcism, the crowd asks, “Can this be the Son of David?”13 The Pharisees then say that Jesus does this by the power of Beelzebul, but Jesus counters that it is by the Spirit of God that he casts out demons. “But if it is by the Spirit of God that I cast out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you” (v. 28).14 Agreement exists between both the Pharisees and the crowd from a certain perspective.15 Both affirm Jesus is spirit-possessed; the question remains, what kind of spirit?16 By negatively baptizing the source of his power, the Pharisees attempt to discredit him. But Jesus affirms that he is spirit-possessed because it is by the Spirit of God (ἐν πνεύματι θεοῦ) that he does these things. Therefore, in this passage we have all three parties (Jesus, the crowd, the Pharisees) affirming that Jesus is using an outside source as the power behind his performances. For Jesus, it is the Spirit of God that is the source of his power.
Therefore, Jesus contrasts the work of Satan/Beelzebul (lord of the earth) with the work of the Spirit. Why does Jesus draw these figures into the same orbit, and does it have anything to do with territory? A survey of Matthew’s use of Spirit language indicates that the Spirit’s role is tied to the new exodus and the new creation.17 As Hawthorne notes, when the Spirit of God is referred to in Scripture, life is intended—“for vitality, livingness, is the essence of spirit, especially of the divine spirit.”18 From a spatial perspective, Matthew is signaling the life of the people and place with his employment of the Spirit.19 His use of the Spirit indicates God’s restorative work of the land promises and, therefore, has everything to do with space and place in Matthew’s Gospel.20
I will demonstrate the importance of spatial considerations in relation to the Spirit by observing the joining of the Spirit with the new exodus in defining moments of Jesus’ life: (1) birth, (2) baptism/temptation, (3) exorcism, and (4) death. These observations should inform how one interprets the Beelzebul controversy in Matthew 12, for Jesus performs the exorcism by the Spirit of God, and thereby the kingdom is present.21
The Genealogy
The first words of Matthew’s Gospel are βίβλος γενέσεως (book of offspring), which recall the book of Genesis and the subject of creation.22 Matthew, through these first words (and the genealogy) proposes that Jesus himself is central to the new beginning. The entry points to the two testaments therefore begin in similar ways. Both focus on creation and both include the Spirit (cf. Matt 1:18–23). In Gen. 1:2, the πνεῦμα θεοῦ (LXX) hovers over the waters. In Ps. 32:6 (LXX), it is by the word of the Lord, and the “spirit of his mouth” (τῷ πνεύματι τοῦ στόματος αὐτοῦ) that the heavens (οἱ οὐρανοὶ) are made. In Ps. 103:30 (LXX), it says he sends forth the Spirit (τὸ πνεῦμά) and renews the face of the ground (γῆ). Thus, both testaments begin with the Spirit bringing order to a chaotic or unknown land. But is the land theme as clear in Matthew’ introduction as in Genesis? A redemptive-historical lens on the genealogy is helpful in this regard.
Matthew begins his book by recounting the genealogy from Abraham to David to Jesus Christ. Many things could be mentioned about this list, but for our purposes two things stand out: the two people Matthew chooses as the stop-gaps before Jesus and Matthew’s insertion of one historical event in the midst of a line of people. In the genealogy Matthew makes Jesus’ history “fit,” which “indicates that for the author, this is not so much a statistical observation, as a theological reflection on the working out of God’s purposes.”23
The two people Matthew structures his genealogy through are Abraham and David. Abraham and David are both towering figures in Jewish history. For both of these figures, land or a house are promised to them. In Genesis 12 Abraham is called to go out of his own land (12:1) and promised that he will become a great nation. God makes a covenant with Abraham in Genesis 15 promising him seed, land, and blessing. In Gen. 15:18–21, God says to Abraham:
To your offspring I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates, the land of the Kenites, the Kenizzites, the Kadmonites, the Hittites, the Perizzzites, the Rephaim, the Amorites, the Canaanites, the Girashites and the Jebusites.
For Abraham, a large part of the promise included land that he would possess. David is also promised a house and a place for the people Israel. In 2 Sam. 7:10, 16 God discloses to David, “And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, so that they may dwell in their own place and be disturbed no more.…And your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me.” In 1 Chron. 17:14, we have the same text. The text says, “I will maintain him in my house (בביתי) and in my kingdom (ובמלכותי) forever.” In both passages, kingdom and house are paralleled. Matthew places these two individuals at the beginning of the book to frame Jesus’ message in light of OT promises. If Jesus comes to fulfill these promises as Matthew indicates, then Jesus is coming to fulfill the land promises. It is strange then that the majority of commentators are silent about land themes in Jesus’ ministry.
The second striking item in the genealogy is the event named in the midst of the list of people. The only event recorded (besides Jesus’ birth) is the deportation to Babylon (Mt 1:11–12, 17). Charette says, “It is noteworthy that the calamitous event of exile and not a person should mark the end of the second period and the beginning of the third.”24 The deportation to Babylon is the historical event of Babylon conquering and removing Judah from their land. The event is central to Matthew’s overview of Israel’s history, so he pauses to mention it amongst a list of people. Israelites, as a people, were closely associated with the place they lived (autochthony). To be removed from their home was no small occurrence, and Jesus was coming back to bring them into their new homeland, the kingdom. These structural features suggest that the fulfillment of the land promise intertwines with the coming of Jesus. The land promise was a vital promise in Jewish history, which Matthew hoists into the era of Jesus.
In summary, Matthew starts his book by pointing his readers to the Jewish Scriptures, so that they can see that Jesus fulfills Jewish hopes. In effect, writes Luz, “Matthew sets out with a new ‘book of origins’, with a new Heilsgeschichte, or history of God’s actions in the world and in mankind’s salvation. It is as if he were writing the Bible anew.”25 But this newness also has strong links to what happened previously. The same Spirit that worked to create the land and multiply the people is working in Matthew. Although Matthew does not explicitly name the Spirit in the genealogy it is clear he is echoing the Genesis narrative. Here the new genesis, the new exodus, the new creation is inaugurated by Jesus through the Spirit. Michel de Certeau asserts that all narratives have the structure of spatial syntaxes, “every story is a travel story—a spatial practice.”26 The genealogy and the first two chapters of Matthew are “spatial stories,” in which Matthew traces the history of Israel through space, from Ur, to Egypt, to Canaan, to Jerusalem, to the land of Rome. Jesus comes retracing the steps of his family.27
The Birth of Jesus
The new exodus and new creation theme continues when Matthew turns his attention to the birth of Jesus, where he employs the noun birth (γένεσις) for a second time (Mt 1:18). In 1:18, γένεσις with πνεῦμα are brought into close connection as Mary is found to be with child of (ἐκ) the Holy Spirit. ἐκ is often used to denote the origin, the cause, or the reason for something. The conception by the Holy Spirit conveys that the Spirit brings the new creation through this new person.28 People and place are coupled together. Jesus’ birth by the Holy Spirit fulfills the Immanuel promise. Therefore, people, place and presence all collide in the coming of Jesus. The connection between people and place finds support in the Old Testament because the Spirit and is regularly viewed as the agent of God’s activity in the act of creation (as noted earlier). Although the Spirit is not often mentioned in Matthew, the birth narrative of Jesus emphasizes the role of Spirit in the new exodus, the new creation, the new land.
The Baptism and Temptation
Matthew also mentions the Spirit in the events surrounding the baptism and the temptation. At the baptism of Jesus he is anointed for his ministry as the Messiah, marking the inauguration of his ministry. As Jesus is baptized, the heavens (οἱ οὐρανοί) are opened (ἠνεῴχθησαν) and the Spirit of God (πνεῦμα [τοῦ] θεοῦ) comes down upon Jesus as a dove. At the baptism, the disjunction between heaven and earth is breached as the Spirit rests upon Jesus. The dove recalls the creation account in which the Spirit of God hovers like a bird over the waters. Additionally, there is new creation language in the Noah story concerning the dove.29 The context of the baptism occurs around the description of John’s ministry and its setting “in the wilderness of Judea” (3:1). John is the “voice crying in the wilderness” (3:3). The wilderness in the OT is a place of judgment, where the nation was forced to wander for forty years before they could enter the Promised Land. Later in the biblical narrative, rebellion forced Israel into exile, and one of the judgments upon the nation was that the land of Israel itself turned into a wilderness (Jer. 4:23–28). However, as Charette notes, the prophets also recognized that “just as the wilderness has once been a place where Israel found grace, so in the future it would be the scene of renewal of grace.”30
The Spirit also leads (ἀνάγω) Jesus up into the wilderness in Matthew to be tested by Satan. Although Jesus’ ministry has been inaugurated, he has not been tested in order to prove his determination and succeed where Israel has failed. All three synoptic evangelists refer to the role of the Spirit in sending Jesus to his testing, but only Matthew uses the verb ἀνάγω, ‘to lead up’, which may recall the frequently used verb in the LXX to describe God’s leading of his people at the time of the exodus (Num. 14:13; 20:5; 1 Sam. 12:6; Ps. 78:52; 81:10; Jer. 2:6; 7:22; 11:4; 16:14).31 In the wilderness, Jesus fasts for “forty days and forty nights.” This evokes the forty-year period Israel which spent in the wilderness. That Matthew intends us to see Jesus inaugurating the second exodus in confirmed by his use of Hos 11:1.
Isaiah says that God is doing something new in producing a second exodus for his people that will surpass the first exodus (Isa. 43:18–19). More specifically, Isaiah articulates the giving of waters in the wilderness and rivers in the desert (v. 20). Earlier in Isaiah’s text the prophet announces the wilderness will become a fruitful land when a spirit from on high is poured out on the people. (32:15–16). A similar picture exists in Isa. 44:3–5 where God pours out water on dry and thirsty land and this is tied with the outpouring of the Spirit. For both Isaiah and Matthew, the new exodus is directly tied to land promises. The Spirit inaugurates the new exodus in the ministry of Jesus. By coming out of the water and then entering the wilderness in the temptation, Jesus is enacting Israel’s spatial story, showing them that he is here to perform the new exodus. The second exodus is also spatially concerned, therefore the Spirit is spatially concerned.
The Death of Jesus
At the death of Jesus, the Spirit also propels the new exodus and creation. Although the explicit presence of the Holy Spirit at the death of Jesus is going against the scholarly consensus, Charette provides good evidence for it.32 Matthew, compared to the other Gospels, uses a distinctive expression in describing the death of Jesus. At the death of Jesus, ‘he let go of the spirit’ (ἀφῆκεν τὸ πνεῦμα). Both Mark and Luke write ‘he expired’ (ἐξέπνευσεν) while John says ‘he handed over the spirit’ (παρέδωκεν τὸ πνεῦμα). Although Charette acknowledges that ‘the spirit’ here may be understood in the anthropological sense, it is at least possible that Matthew is describing Jesus as ‘letting go’ of the Spirit that rested upon him for his ministry. Charette remarks:
The unique language employed by Matthew coupled with the extraordinary phenomena that he introduces to explain the significance of Jesus’ death gives one pause to consider whether there may be in fact some reference here to the activity of the Spirit.33
What takes place immediately following Jesus’ death indicates this is more than a possibility. Unlike Mark, who records a single sign of the rending of the temple, Matthew includes several incidents which point towards life resulting from death. In 27:51b–53, Matthew adds the enigmatic raising of the holy ones. Although this verse has been debated throughout church history, “The implication of this special material included by Matthew alone is that some great life-giving power has been unleashed at the moment of Jesus’ death.”34 Tying the release of the spirit on the cross to this life-giving event provides a possibility that Matthew is referring to the Holy Spirit in 27:50. Strengthening this view is the most likely background to Mt 27:51b–53, Ezek. 37:1–14. The verbal parallels are striking. There is a valley of dry bones; there is a shaking (σεισμὸς), and the bones become as corpses. When Ezekiel prophesies a second time, the breath (LXX, τὸ πνεῦμα) enters the dead and they live (37:9–10). God explains the vision, saying that he will open the tombs of the people and lead them into the land of Israel (37:12). As Charette points out, “The passage contains both new creation and new exodus language” all at the infusion of the Spirit.35 The Spirit, at Jesus’ death, is released and begins to enact the new exodus seen in the vision of Ezekiel as the dead rise from their graves and walk around the holy city. In Ezekiel, the Spirit leads them into the land. For Matthew, the Spirit is leading people up into the new exodus. The spatial implications are evident in Matthew’s and the OT’s use of the Spirit.
The Exorcism
If the genealogy, birth, baptism, temptation, and death all tie the work of the Spirit to the new creation, then Matthew’s use of the Spirit in the Beelzebul controversy most likely addresses similar themes. Matthew links the exorcisms, the Spirit of God, and the kingdom in verse 28 with the conjunction ἄρα. The kingdom of God is the apodosis, or the main clause in the conditional sentence. The protasis is the “if” (εἰ) clause. “But if it is by the Spirit of God that I cast out demons, then the kingdom of God has extended.” Like the other places in Matthew where the Spirit appears, here in the exorcism Jesus is enacting the new exodus. Although on the surface of the narrative, cosmic and social themes seem to be absent, there are multiple clues Matthew supplies about the spatial implications of exorcisms. If one takes the perspective of exorcisms being a locative category, then Matthew is communicating that the new exodus occurs through the Spirit and the extension of the Spirit to other bodies. Beelzebul is the ruler of the land, but Matthew indicates that a new ruler is here who will restore the land.
The Spirit is not just concerned with the physical land. Rather the Spirit works in human beings to create love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal. 5:22–23). It is the Spirit of life according to Paul in Rom. 8:2; the Spirit is life and peace (Rom. 8:6). Jesus reorders the space of the earth by the power of the Spirit in the exorcisms. In this work, he defeats the lord of the earth and declares himself to have all authority in heaven and earth.
Conclusion
I have investigated the theme of the Spirit in Matthew, because Jesus says he performs these exorcisms by the Spirit of God. Although Spirit language is used efficiently in Matthew’s Gospel, when Matthew does employ the Spirit, distinct new exodus and new creation themes exist. Therefore, when Matthew speaks of the Spirit in the Beelzebul controversy, he is demonstrating that Jesus is conquering the land. Jesus brings in the new creation, leading the new exodus, and inaugurating the new land. The presence of the body of Jesus reorders the space of earth, reconciling heaven and earth.
Space is negotiated, open, relational, unfinished and always becoming. Human beings impact the space in which they live. By understanding space in this way, one enters into a new way to view the exorcisms and the present reality of the spatial kingdom.
A modern example demonstrates the role of bodies in protest and the construction of space. An iconic photograph of “Tank Man” illustrated for people across the world the Tiananmen Square protests of 1989 in China. The photograph became the image for a revolution where student-led demonstrations exposed deep splits within China’s leadership. The Chinese government cracked down on the protesters with assault rifles and tanks. “Tank Man” was one of the unarmed civilians who briefly blocked the military’s advance towards Tiananmen Square. Tiananmen Square is in the center of Beijing and has been the site of many political events. The Chinese government condemned the protests, and many were killed in the following events. Estimates of the death toll range from a few hundred to thousands. “Tank Man” wore a white shirt and black pants, holding two shopping bags, one in each hand. He stood in the middle of a wide avenue, directly in the path of approaching tanks. The tanks came to a stop but then tried to drive around the man. However, the man with the shopping bags repeatedly stepped in the path of the tank. The picture was momentous because it showed an ordinary man in front of a long line of powerful tanks: the one vs. the many, the ordinary vs. the powerful, the peaceful vs. the chaotic. “Tank Man” occupied the space the government claimed was theirs and would not move.
People use their bodies, something integral to who they are, to demonstrate dissent. They then place their bodies in politically charged situations, attempting to change the space they occupy. Through the presence of Jesus in the Beelzebul controversy, readers can see that Jesus comes to inaugurate a new creation by plundering Satan’s possessions. The space of earth still has vestiges of goodness, but Jesus comes in bodily form to show exactly how the human body can impact space, and he does so by calling other bodies to come and imitate him.
This article is adapted from Patrick Schreiner’s book The Body of Jesus: A Spatial Analysis of the Kingdom of God in Matthew, LNTS 555 (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2016).
Patrick Schreiner (PhD, Southern Baptist Theological Seminary) is assistant professor of New Testament language and literature at Western Seminary in Portland, Oregon. He is the author of The Body of Jesus, The Kingdom of God and the Glory of the Cross, Matthew, Disciple and Scribe, and the forthcoming The Ascension of Christ.
Image: Straßburger Münster, Austreibung von Legion
- Wright rightly argues that exorcisms are the establishment of the kingdom which will involve the defeat of the enemy that has held Israel captive. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God, 228.[↩]
- Halvor Moxnes and Jonathan Smith do have some material on the relationship between exorcisms and place. But Moxnes looks at demon possession and exorcism in the social and political context of Palestine in the first century. My focus is on the apocalyptic or cosmic battle here from a spatial perspective, not denying there are social and political ramifications. Moxnes, Putting Jesus in His Place, 125–41; Smith, “Towards Interpreting Demonic Powers in Hellenistic and Roman Antiquity.”[↩]
- See A. Kleinmann, Patients and Healers in the Context of Culture (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1980); Louise Lawrence, Sense and Stigma in the Gospels: Depictions of Sensory-Disabled Characters (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013).[↩]
- R. H. Bell, “Demon, Devil, Satan,” in DJG, ed. Joel Green et al., 2nd ed. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2013), 193.[↩]
- Eric Sorensen, Possession and Exorcism in the New Testament and Early Christianity (Tübingen, Germany: Mohr Siebeck, 2002), 119. Caragounis says the present activity of the Son of man, especially in casting out demons, should be seen “not so much as indicating the actual occurrence of the decisive event of the kingdom of God, but as the preliminary warfare of the Son of man against the evil powers […] making possible the entrance of the kingdom of God in history.” But Caragounis’s explanation falls short of what the passage actually says. According to Matt 12:28, the kingdom of God is here in the exorcisms, they are not merely a preparation for the kingdom. C. C. Caragounis, “Kingdom of God/Kingdom of Heaven,” in DJG, ed. Joel Green et al., 1st ed. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1992), 425.[↩]
- See Sorensen, Possession and Exorcism.[↩]
- Philip Sheldrake, Spaces for the Sacred: Place, Memory and Identity (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins, 2001), 43.[↩]
- Robert Charles Branden, Satanic Conflict and the Plot of Matthew (New York: Peter Lang, 2006), 19.[↩]
- Christian Strecker writes, “The exorcisms of Jesus witness a direct clash between the divine and demonic. This collision results in diverse transformations, notably in the order of the self, the social order, and the cosmic order. Alterations at all three levels are closely connected to and mutually affect one another.” Christian Strecker, “Jesus and the Demoniacs,” in The Social Setting of Jesus and the Gospels, ed. Wolfgang Stegemann et al. (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2002), 126.[↩]
- Psychologists have noticed that making psychiatric hospitals real places, with flowers on the tables, communal activities, and parties, help integrate persons into a community and is part of the healing process.[↩]
- Amanda Witmer, Jesus, The Galilean Exorcist: His Exorcisms in Social and Political Context (New York: T & T Clark, 2012), 165.[↩]
- Shirock argues the referents of οἱ υἰοἰ ὑμων in 12:27 refer to Jesus’ own disciples rather than the consensus modern view of “your sons” referring to unknown Jewish exorcists associated with the Pharisees. Robert J Shirock, Jr., “Whose Exorcists Are They: The Referents of Οἱ Υἰοἰ Ὑμων at Matthew 12:27/Luke 11:19,” JSNT, no. 46 (1992): 41–51.[↩]
- The Son of David is known as the Spirit-filled heir apparent to the everlasting kingdom. A parallel account appears in Luke 11:14, but unlike Matthew’s account, Luke’s does not include this statement about David. David was known as a healer in Jewish tradition, one who had the Spirit (Mt 22:43).[↩]
- Some may question why Matthew uses one of his five references to the “kingdom of God” here rather than “kingdom of heaven.” Others may think this puts the spatial argument here on precarious ground, for if Matthew wanted to emphasize the spatial aspects he would have intentionally replaced “God” with “heaven” here. But France is most likely right to say that because the preceding reference referred to “Satan’s kingdom” then Matthew would have naturally paired with a more personal reference to God himself. Additionally, Matthew may simply be following Mark here. France, The Gospel of Matthew, 480. Carson, Davies and Allison all say this goes stylistically with “Spirit of God.” D. A. Carson, Matthew, in vol. 8 of The Expositor’s Bible Commentary, ed. Frank Gaebelein (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1984), 289. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 2:339.[↩]
- Dunn argues both that Jesus was not possessed or controlled by this power and that he was unable to control it, but Dunn seems uncomfortable with identifying Jesus as spirit-possessed, which was the assumption of the crowd, his family, and his opponents. James Dunn, Jesus and the Spirit (London: SCM, 1975), 87–8.[↩]
- According to Guijarro, public accusations, labels of deviancy, and negative labels are used to control behavior which some have interpreted as dangerous to society at large. Unknowingly, the Pharisees are aligning with Satan’s house. Santiago Guijarro, “The Politics of Exorcism: Jesus’ Reaction to Negative Labels in the Beelzebul Controversy,” BTB 29, no. 3 (1999): 122.[↩]
- Blaine Charette has the most sustained reflection on the Spirit in Matthew’s Gospel. His thesis is similar to mine in that he argues the Spirit is especially evident in the eschatological redemption which has as its objective the restoration of God’s human creation back to himself. Much of Charette’s material is helpful and employed in my analysis. However Charette thinks the presence of Jesus with his community is tied to the Spirit because of the OT connection between the presence of God and the Spirit, but this is not explicit in Matthew’s narrative and therefore is questionable. Blaine Charette, Restoring Presence: The Spirit in Matthew’s Gospel, JPTSS (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000); idem, “‘Never Has Anything Like This Been Seen in Israel’: The Spirit As Eschatological Sign in Matthew’s Gospel,” JPT 8 (1996), 31–51.[↩]
- Gerald Hawthorne, The Presence and the Power: The Significance of the Holy Spirit in the Life and Ministry of Jesus (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 1991), 13.[↩]
- Hawthorne notes the Spirit’s creative activity in the world of nature (Gen. 1:2; Job 26:13; Pss. 33:6; 104:30), but he says it is with “person” that the Spirit is most concerned. Ibid., 20. But Hawthorne has not reflected enough on the interrelationship between people and place.[↩]
- The stress on the Spirit is not as pronounced in Matthew as it is in Luke and John. But there is a thoughtful and intentional portrayal of the activity of the Spirit in Matthew’s narrative. Montague in his book entitles his chapter on the pneumatology of Matthew’s Gospel “The Discreet Pneumatology of Matthew.” G. T. Montague, The Holy Spirit: Growth of a Biblical Tradition (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1976). Matthew is economical in his references to the activity of the Spirit, but he has the Spirit appearing at defining moments in Jesus’ life.[↩]
- The role of the Spirit through Matthew is a neglected area of study. I have noted elsewhere that Matthew emphasizes how Jesus will be present with his community and does not necessarily run to the Spirit as the other Gospels do. Keck even labels one of the sections in his article as Matthew’s “Ambivalence Toward Spirit Activity.” Keck, “Matthew and the Spirit,” 149. Keck gives three considerations for Matthew’s ambivalence about the work of the Spirit: (1) Jesus is presented as Spirit-begotten; (2) the attitude toward prophecy; (3) the reluctance to celebrate present salvation. Keck’s analysis of Matthew’s reluctance to celebrate the signs of present salvation does not rightly consider the presence of Jesus as a sign of present salvation.[↩]
- As many commentators note, the beginning of the Gospel of Matthew has resemblances to Genesis. The Βίβλος γενέσεως language recalls Gen. 5:1 (Αὕτη ἡ βίβλος γενέσεως ἀνθρώπων). But it also recalls Gen 2:4 (Αὕτη ἡ βίβλος γενέσεως οὐρανοῦ καὶ γῆς). Matthew may be indicating the advent of Jesus is inaugurating a new creation. The heavens and earth pairing in Genesis are the “parents” who generate the plants, garden, and mankind. Adam’s mother is the earth, and his Father is the God of heaven. Once again the themes of people and place collide, but familial categories are interwoven as well.[↩]
- France, The Gospel of Matthew, 29; see also John Nolland, The Gospel of Matthew, 72.[↩]
- Charette, Restoring Presence, 37.[↩]
- Ulrich Luz, The Theology of the Gospel of Matthew (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 24.[↩]
- Michel de Certeau, The Practice of Everyday Life (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984), 115.[↩]
- The narrative is also full of place references in Ch. 2 of Matthew, which would be a passage worthy of a spatial hermeneutic. Stendahl notes the domination of geographical names in Matthew 2 and says that the geographical information gives structure to Ch. 2, while personal names give structure to Ch. 1. Krister Stendahl, “Quis et Unde? An Analysis of Matthew 1–2,” in The Interpretation of Matthew, ed. Graham Stanton (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1983), 57–9. See also R. T. France, “The Formula–Quotations of Matthew 2 and the Problem of Communication,” NTS 27 (1981): 233–51.[↩]
- David Garland notes that Jesus’ conception is understood to be an eschatological event of new creation that is set off as a radical disruption of what preceded it in the genealogy. Human genealogical possibilities have been completed and exhausted. David Garland, Reading Matthew: A Literary and Theological Commentary (Macon, Georgia: Smyth & Helwys, 2001), 24.[↩]
- L. E. Keck, “The Spirit and the Dove,” NTS 17 (1970): 41–66; S. Gero, “The Spirit as a Dove at the Baptism of Jesus,” NovT 18 (1976): 17–35.[↩]
- Charette, “‘Never Has Anything Like This Been Seen in Israel,’” 37.[↩]
- See ibid., 43.[↩]
- The reference to ‘spirit’ is usually understood to mean the human spirit of Jesus (Mt 27:50).[↩]
- Ibid., 48.[↩]
- Ibid., 49.[↩]
- Ibid.[↩]