Seminário do PIB para professores de Bíblia em 2022

Este seminário estava programado para 2021, mas, por causa da pandemia, foi adiado para 2022.

Além do que, os organizadores ainda não sabem se o seminário acontecerá de forma presencial, online ou mista.

Tudo dependerá da situação da pandemia, e a definição sairá somente após o verão europeu.

Sobre a iniciativa, leia aqui. Veja também uma lista com todos os seminários já realizados.

Sobre o seminário de 2022:
:: Tema: Por uma Igreja em construção. As cartas de Paulo
:: Data: 24-28 de janeiro de 2022
:: Coordenadores: Professores Juan Manuel Granados e Antonio Pitta

O programa é o mesmo previsto para 2021. Confira aqui.

João Batista: tema de mais uma conferência Nangeroni

Aconteceu de 11 a 14 de janeiro de 2021 uma conferência Nangeroni online sobre João Batista, organizada pelo Seminário Henóquico em colaboração com o Journal for São João Batista - Candido Portinari: 1957the Study of the Historical Jesus. Todos os maiores especialistas internacionais em João Batista participaram.

Um bom relato pode ser lido em Religion Prof: The Blog of James F. McGrath.

Ele começa dizendo:

Gabriele Boccaccini começou com uma visão geral da história da recepção de João Batista, incluindo literatura e cinema, bem como a pesquisa acadêmica. No processo, ele destacou a incrível riqueza de informações sobre este assunto disponíveis na enciclopédia online 4Enoch…

O que é o Enoch Seminar?

O Enoch Seminar, fundado em 2001, é um grupo acadêmico de especialistas internacionais dedicados ao estudo do Judaísmo do Segundo Templo e às origens cristãs, que compartilham os resultados de suas pesquisas no campo e se reúnem para discutir temas de interesse comum. O site Enoch Seminar Online é um arquivo de todos os estudos apresentados nas reuniões do Enoch Seminar, e uma revista online de notícias, comentários e outras contribuições originais.

Para Paulo há três caminhos para a salvação

É o que afirma Gabriele Boccaccini em novo livro.

BOCCACCINI, G. Paul’s Three Paths to Salvation. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2020, 182 p. – ISBN 9780802839213.

BOCCACCINI, G. Paul's Three Paths to Salvation. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2020“Não precisamos mais separar Paulo do judaísmo para reivindicar seu cristianismo”, escreve Gabriele Boccaccini, acrescentando que “nem precisamos separá-lo do movimento de Jesus para declarar seu judaísmo”. Com este princípio orientador, Boccaccini desvenda as implicações da “pertença” de Paulo simultaneamente ao judaísmo e ao cristianismo para chegar à conclusão de que há de fato três meios de salvação:

. Para os judeus, adesão à Torá
. Para os gentios, boas obras de acordo com a consciência e a lei natural
. Para todos os pecadores, perdão pela fé em Jesus Cristo

Os três caminhos para a salvação de Paulo é uma tentativa de reconciliar as muitas facetas da complexa identidade de Paulo, injustamente acusado de intolerância. O esforço de Boccaccini em restabelecer a figura de Paulo como um mensageiro da misericórdia de Deus para os pecadores é uma contribuição importante para o debate atual sobre o lugar de Paulo no mundo pluralista contemporâneo.

Gabriele Boccaccini é professor da Universidade de Michigan e autor de várias publicações sobre o Judaísmo do Segundo Templo e as origens cristãs. Ele é o fundador e diretor do Seminário Henóquico, um grupo acadêmico de especialistas internacionais dedicados ao estudo do Judaísmo do Segundo Templo, do Cristianismo e do Islamismo, que compartilham os resultados de suas pesquisas no campo e se reúnem para discutir temas de interesse comum.

 

“We no longer need to separate Paul from Judaism in order to claim his Christianness,” writes Gabriele Boccaccini, adding, “nor do we need to separate him from the early Jesus movement in order to state his Jewishness.” With this guiding principle Boccaccini unpacks the implications of Paul’s “belonging” simultaneously to Judaism and Christianity to arrive at the surprising and provocative conclusion that there are in fact three means of salvation:Gabriele Boccaccini, pesquisador ítalo-americano, nascido em 1958

. For Jews, adherence to Torah.
. For gentiles, good works according to conscience and natural law.
. For all sinners, forgiveness through faith in Jesus Christ.

Paul’s Three Paths to Salvation is an attempt to reconcile the many facets of Paul’s complex identity while reclaiming him from accusations of intolerance, and Boccaccini’s work in reestablishing the figure of Paul as a messenger of God’s Mercy to the sinners is an important contribution to the ongoing conversation about Paul’s place in the contemporary pluralistic world.

Gabriele Boccaccini is a professor at the University of Michigan and the author of numerous publications on Second Temple Judaism and Christian origins. He is the founding director of the Enoch Seminar, a forum of international specialists in early Judaism, Christianity, and Islam affiliated with the Society of Biblical Literature. In 2019, he was awarded knighthood by the president of Italy in recognition of his contribution to Italian culture in the world.

Seminário do PIB para professores de Bíblia em 2021

Sobre a iniciativa, leia aqui.

Sobre o seminário de 2021:
:: Tema: Por uma Igreja em construção. As cartas de Paulo
:: Data: 25-29 de janeiro de 2021
:: Coordenadores: Professores Juan Manuel Granados e Antonio Pitta
:: Inscrição: até 10 de outubro de 2020

Dada a situação de pandemia, o seminário foi cancelado e adiado para janeiro de 2022, possivelmente com o mesmo programa. No entanto, haverá uma reprogramação em março de 2021.

No site do PIB se lê em italiano [ou English]:

Seminario 2021: dal 25 al 29 gennaio 2021

Tema del seminario: Per una Chiesa in costruzione. Le lettere di Paolo

Il prossimo Seminario di aggiornamento per Docenti di Sacra Scrittura avrà luogo dal 25 al 29 gennaio 2021 e sarà diretto dai Proff. Juan Manuel Granados, S.J., e Antonio Pitta.

Rispettando l’alternanza tra Antico e Nuovo Testamento, oggetto del seminario saranno Le lettere di Paolo, ad eccezione delle lettere ai Romani e ai Galati che sono state oggetto del seminairo del 2017.

Il Seminario prevede ogni giorno tre lezioni magistrali comuni: due al mattino (9:00-12:00) e una al pomeriggio (15:00-16:15), e delle sedute pomeridiane di approfondimento (16:30-18:00) per gruppi. Queste ultime saranno o in forma seminariale o in forma di lezioni frontali.

N.B.: Alcune lezioni saranno in lingua inglese, ma sarà fornita la traduzione italiana.

Programma previsto (i titoli sono indicativi; saranno precisati in seguito):

:. Lunedì 25 gennaio
. Prof. Romano Penna (Rilevanza ecclesiale delle lettere e le tradizioni paoline)
. Prof.ssa Kathy Ehrensperger (Stato attuale della ricerca, questioni e prospettive in 1 Corinzi)
. Prof. Andrzej Gieniusz (Morte e risurrezione di Cristo in 1 Corinzi)

:. Martedì 26 gennaio
. Prof.ssa Kathy Ehrensperger (Il ruolo delle donne nelle prime comunità cristiane [1Cor 11–14])
. Prof. William S. Campbell (Stato attuale della ricerca, prospettive e questioni su 2 Corinzi)
. Prof. Pasquale Basta (Scrittura e intertestualità in 1-2 Corinzi)

:. Mercoledì 27 gennaio
. Prof. Antonio Pitta (Stato attuale della ricerca e prospettive su 1 Tessalonicesi)
. Prof. Philip Towner (Stato attuale della ricerca e prospettive su 2 Tessalonicesi)

[pomeriggio del mercoledì: libero]

:. Giovedì 28 gennaio
. Prof. Jean-Noël Aletti (Stato attuale della ricerca e prospettive su Filippesi)
. Prof. Juan-Manuel Granados (Stato attuale della ricerca e prospettive su Colossesi)
. Prof. Stefano Romanello (Stato attuale della ricerca e prospettive su Efesini)

:. Venerdì 29 gennaio
. Prof. Aldo Martin (I codici domestici ed ecclesiali)
. Prof. Philip Towner (Stato attuale della ricerca e prospettive sulle Lettere Pastorali)

:. Venerdì pomeriggio (lezione conclusiva)
. Prof. Jean-Noël Aletti (Sfide dell’ecclesiologia paolina)

Sedute pomeridiane di approfondimento (in forma seminariale o di lezioni frontali)

Sono previsti contributi dei seguenti professori (le tematiche sono solo indicative):

. Pasquale Basta (Uso della Scrittura in 1Cor 1– 4)
. William S. Campbell (Carismi e ministeri in 1 Corinzi)
. Alvaro Pereira Delgado (due sessioni in giorni diversi: 1. Funzione identitaria della cena del Signore [1 Cor 11] – 2. Il ministero dello Spirito [2Cor 3–7])
. Marcin Kowalski (due sessioni in giorni diversi: 1. Funzione identitaria del battesimo – 2. La periautologia in 2Cor 10–13)
. Andrzej Wodka (La colletta)
. Antonio Pitta (Nuova ed antica alleanza)
. Paolo Costa(Tessalonica fra 1Ts e Atti)
. Francesco Bianchini (La cristologia di Filippesi)
. Juan Manuel Granados (La riconciliazione in Colossesi)
. Aldo Martin (Adamologia paolina)
. Jean-Bosco Matand B. (Apocalittica ed escatologia in 1-2 Tessalonicesi)

Il programma dettagliato della settimana, che terrà conto anche del numero degli iscritti, sarà disponibile alla fine di ottobre (dopo la chiusura delle iscrizioni).

Iscrizioni

Chi fosse interessato è pregato di dare la propria adesione entro il 10 ottobre 2020, inviando una e-mail all’indirizzo: pibsegr@biblico.it.

Ai partecipanti viene chiesto un contributo di € 120.

Per gli iscritti all’associazione ex-alunni PIB il contributo sarà invece di € 100.

Tale contributo potrà essere versato all’inizio del seminario. Non è necessario inviare alcuna somma al momento dell’iscrizione; si chiede però gentilmente di inviare la propria adesione solo se realmente si prevede di partecipare, proprio perché l’organizzazione finale della settimana dipenderà anche dal numero dei partecipanti.

Per ulteriori informazioni rivolgersi a: Segretario Generale PIB (pibsegr@biblico.it)

Enigmas do quarto evangelho

É razoável dizer que há mais discordância dos pesquisadores sobre os cinco escritos joaninos – Evangelho, Cartas e Apocalipse – do que sobre qualquer outra área do Novo Testamento. Mas isso é compreensível.

Considere, por exemplo, as tensões teológicas de João – a humanidade e a divindade de Jesus; a relação igual e subordinada do Filho com o Pai; o Espírito procede do Pai e do Filho; tensões sobre escatologia, milagres, salvação, judaísmo e eclesiologia, para citar alguns.

E o que dizer dos enigmas históricos de João – tensões entre o mundano e o transcendente; omissões de João de material sinótico e omissões sinóticas de material joanino; diferenças na cronologia e topografia entre João e os sinóticos; o Jesus de João não está falando em parábolas, e o Jesus sinótico não está dizendo “eu sou”; o Jesus de João (e o Batista) falando no idioma do narrador?

Além disso, considere as perplexidades literárias de João – a linguagem e a forma poética de Jo 1,1-18 estão mais próximas de 1Jo 1,1-4 do que o resto do Evangelho; às vezes, os eventos são anunciados antes de serem narrados; Jesus diz: “Saiamos daqui” em 14,31, mas os discípulos não chegam ao jardim até 18,1; Jo 20,31 declara o propósito de ter escrito, mas o capítulo 21 parece ter sido adicionado mais tarde; referências à testemunha ocular (19,34-35) e ao autor (21,20-24) parecem ter sido feitas por outra mão.

Esses são apenas alguns dos enigmas intrigantes de João que os estudiosos trabalham com afinco para resolver.

 

It is fair to say that there may be more disagreement over the five Johannine writings (the Gospel, Epistles, and Apocalypse of John) than any other sector of the New ANDERSON, P. N. The Riddles of the Fourth Gospel: An Introduction to John. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2011Testament. But this is understandable. Consider, for instance, John’s theological tensions—the humanity and divinity of Jesus; the Son’s equal and subordinate relation to the Father; the Spirit’s proceeding from the Father and the Son; tensions over eschatology, miracles, salvation, Judaism, and ecclesiology, to name a few. And, how about John’s historical conundrums—tensions between the mundane and the transcendent; John’s omissions of synoptic material and synoptic omissions of Johannine material; differences in chronology and topography between John and the Synoptics; John’s Jesus not speaking in parables, and the synoptic Jesus not uttering “I-am” sayings; John’s Jesus (and the Baptist) speaking in the language of the narrator? Further, consider John’s literary perplexities—the language and poetic form of John 1:1-18 is closer to 1 John 1:1-4 than the rest of the Gospel; sometimes events are announced before they’re narrated; Jesus says, “Let us depart” in 14:31, but the disciples don’t reach the garden until 18:1; John 20:31 declares the purpose for having written, but chapter 21 appears to have been added later; references to the eyewitness (19:34-35) and the author (21:20-24) appear to be made by another hand. These are just some of John’s puzzling riddles that scholars work vigorously to address.

Leia “On Biblical Forgeries and Imagined Communities—A Critical Analysis of Recent Criticism” – The Bible and Interpretation: April 2020

By Paul N. Anderson – George Fox University Newberg, Oregon

Confira também

ANDERSON, P. N. The Riddles of the Fourth Gospel: An Introduction to John. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2011, 312 p. – ISBN 9780800604271.

A mensagem revolucionária do Natal

O Natal deve ser olhado como uma mensagem política ousada dos cristãos ao dizer que é preciso confiar em Deus e resistir ao império.

Christmas is intended to be a bold political profession by Christians to trust God and to resist empire.

O Natal é a história da promessa de Deus de derrotar os poderes do mal. O Natal nos lembra que Jesus nasceu para resgatar as pessoas da tirania do poder imperial.

Christmas is the story of God’s promise to defeat evil powers, Jesus born to rescue people from tyrants, resistance to imperial powers and faithfulness in the face of empire.

 

O verdadeiro significado do Natal: Confie em Deus, resista ao império!

The true meaning of Christmas: Trust God, resist empire! – By Michael F. Bird: The Washington Post – Dec. 24, 2019

When most people think of the message of Christmas, they normally think about angels, wise men, shepherds, joy to the world, peace and goodwill, and “to us a child is given.” True, Christmas celebrates the incarnation of the Son of God as a baby born to a Galilean teenage girl named Mary in Bethlehem. Christmas is indeed a time to celebrate God’s blessings and peace to all.

But there is another side to Christmas! Christmas is the story of God’s promise to defeat evil powers, Jesus born to rescue people from tyrants, resistance to imperialMichael F. Bird (nascido em 1974, australiano) powers and faithfulness in the face of empire.

Take the nativity story in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke.

According to Matthew, Jesus is a new Moses, born to save the people from their sins (Matthew 1:21). He delivers them from Herod, the ruthless Roman puppet king of Judea, who acts like the old Pharaoh in the massacre of infants in his desperation to murder the child destined to replace him as king of the Jews (Matthew 2:1-18). Whereas Herod turned the land of Judea into a place of misery and weeping, Jesus will lead his people in a new return from exile, a new escape from a wicked king, and into a new promised land called “the kingdom of heaven.”

Luke takes an explicitly political approach to the Christmas story. Luke situates the birth of Jesus in the context of a decree by Caesar Augustus for families of the empire to register for a census (Luke 2:1-3). Setting up the story this way, Luke immediately challenges us as to who we think is in charge of the world.

Is it Rome’s son of the divine Julius Caesar or Israel’s son of David? Rome’s Caesar or Israel’s Messiah? Rome’s Sebastos, the venerable one or Israel’s Christos, the anointed one? In particular, the various songs and prophecies uttered by characters in Luke’s nativity make explicit that God’s purposes in Jesus, summarized as “the kingdom of God,” entail social and political liberation from exploitative foreign powers.

Mary’s famous Magnificat could be the manifesto for a Marxist guerrilla group. She celebrates how, “God has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty” (Luke 1:52-53).

For Matthew and Luke, the nativity story is not meant to occasion our “oohs” and “aahs” at cute babies and 6-year olds dressed as wisemen and shepherds. Rather, the nativity is hope for justice, deliverance, and redemption in a world run by predatory empires. Christmas for the evangelists marks the beginning of God’s revolution to make things on earth as they are in heaven all through the son of Mary.

The anti-empire script of Christmas is accented by John of Patmos in his apocalypse, which unveils God’s plan to defeat the Roman empire and to replace it with the reign of his Messiah. This book, The Revelation of St. John, is not a coded mystery of the end times that religious enthusiasts of the 21st century unravel for us. More properly, Revelation shows us what the Roman empire looks like from the perspective of those under its lash, under its boot, and facing the threat of imperial violence. Revelation, as a Jewish apocalypse, is a symbolic species of writing that uses metaphor and marvel to describe in cryptic insider language how God will triumph over the pagan powers of the reader’s day.

How does John describe the nativity? Imagine this: A woman is in the final throes of childbirth, screaming in agony, her legs spread apart, ready to expel the baby from the birth canal. And waiting there with her is a dragon, poised, hungry, leaning over her, eagerly waiting to devour whatever is ejected from her loins. Yet the child escapes from the dragon and he soon rules over the nations with an iron scepter. Sound weird? Well, this is the Christmas story of John as narrated in Revelation 12!

The scene depicts the cosmic battle between the forces of evil and the hosts of heaven as the context for the birth of Jesus. The woman in question is not Mary, rather, she is the messianic community through whom Jesus is birthed. The child is obviously the Messiah, hence the citation of Psalm 2:9 about his rule over the nations. The removal of the child from the dragon is allusive of Jesus’ ascension and exaltation.

Importantly Jesus’ birth and the blood that he sheds as the Lamb of God constitutes the victory of God’s salvation, power, and kingdom over the evil one. In John’s vision, God’s plan to repossess the world from the dominion of darkness is launched in the birth of a child who is destined to defeat the dragon that rages against God’s people.

For the faithful, Christmas is a celebration that God is for us, God is near us, because God was one of us. God comes to us, in the vulnerability of child, to save us from our sins, and to rescue us from the evil forces that oppress us.

Christmas promises us that the despots of this age, political or spiritual, are living on borrowed time. The Christmas story is God’s answer to all the evil, injustice, brutality, suffering and death that we see around us.

Christmas is not meant to be about cheap trinkets for consumer religion. Rather, it is the annual reminder that God’s liberating love will always find us in the darkest corners of the world. Christmas is intended to be a bold political profession by Christians to trust God and to resist empire.

Michael F. Bird is academic dean of Ridley College in Melbourne, Australia, and senior research fellow with the Australian College of Theology.

 

Twelve important things to keep in mind about the Christmas stories – By Andrew Perriman: 20 December, 2019

Doze coisas importantes sobre as histórias de Natal que devem ser lembradas:

1. Sejamos francos. O Natal não tem nada a ver com Deus vindo à terra como um bebê indefeso para salvar a humanidade do pecado etc. Isso é outra questão, não é o que está sendo dito, não é o tema das histórias de Mateus e Lucas. Estes narram o nascimento de um rei que livrará Israel do século I d.C. de uma crise nacional. Quando o anjo diz a José que o filho de Maria “salvará o seu povo dos seus pecados” (Mt 1,21), ele quer dizer que Jesus salvará Israel das transgressões sócio-político-religiosas concretas que levaram a nação à beira da catástrofe.

Andrew Perriman2. A pergunta-chave a ser feita sobre a concepção virginal de Jesus não é “Isso aconteceu?” Mas “O que isso significa?” Nem Mateus nem Lucas o entenderam como o processo metafísico pelo qual Deus se tornou homem. Antes, torna o nascimento de Jesus um notável “sinal” profético das coisas vindouras.

3. Sinal de quê? Está no nome “Emanuel”. Durante a guerra siro-efraimita no século VIII a.C., Isaías disse a um nervoso rei Acaz que um menino nasceria de uma jovem da corte real que receberia o nome de Emanuel, que significa “Deus conosco”. A mera existência dessa criança com nome significativo seria um “sinal” para Acaz de que a aliança entre Razon e Pecah falharia e que Iahweh protegeria Jerusalém dos assírios (Is. 7,10-17; 8,5-10). O nascimento do menino, portanto, foi um sinal de que Deus está com seu povo em um momento de grande crise política. O mesmo para o menino Jesus, que não recebeu o nome de Emanuel, mas um nome que significa “Iahweh é a salvação” (Mt 1,21).

4. Lucas dá um toque profético diferente à concepção miraculosa de Jesus. A criança que nascer será chamada não de Emanuel ou mesmo de Jesus, mas de “santo, Filho de Deus”. Com isso ele não quer dizer que Jesus é a segunda pessoa da Trindade ou Deus encarnado, embora isso possa ser verdade em certo sentido, mas que ele é o rei davídico que trará paz a um povo sob ocupação romana e governará a casa de Jacó para sempre (Lc 1,32-33.35; 2,1.11.14).

5. Eu me pergunto se Lucas também não está indicando a seus leitores a descrição de Isaías de uma Jerusalém restaurada quando ele diz que o Espírito virá sobre e cobrirá (episkiasei) Maria, e que a criança será chamada de “santa”: naquele dia, o que ficar em Jerusalém “será chamado santo, todos os que foram inscritos para a vida”, porque o Senhor lavará a imundície do seu povo; então ele virá, e como uma nuvem “encobrirá” (skiasei) a cidade (Is. 4,2-6, segundo a LXX).

6. Maria espera que Deus cumpra sua promessa a Abraão e ajude Israel neste momento de grave crise, dispersando os orgulhosos, derrubando os poderosos de seus tronos, levantando os miseráveis e humildes, enchendo de bens os famintos e mandando embora os ricos de mãos vazias (Lc 1,51-55). Simeão diz que “este menino é designado para a queda e o levantamento de muitos em Israel, e para sinal de contradição…” (Lc 2,34). Essa foi uma conversa inflamatória e revolucionária.

7. Pessoas como Zacarias e Isabel, Simeão e Ana, precisam de salvação não por causa de seus próprios pecados, mas por causa dos pecados da nação. Estas são pessoas justas, mas estão sofrendo as consequências da desobediência voluntária de um povo que está caminhando a largos passos para a destruição.

8. Para o sacerdote Zacarias, a redenção de Israel significa simplesmente que ele pode continuar servindo a Deus no Templo sem temer por sua vida (Lc 1,68-75). Mas ele sabe que a redenção começará com um julgamento devastador contra um sacerdócio corrupto (Lc 1,76; cf. Ml. 3,1). A profetisa Ana espera nada mais nada menos do que a “redenção de Jerusalém” (Lc 2,38).

9. Enquanto a história da visita dos Magos é contada em oposição a Herodes Magno, o anúncio angélico aos pastores soa como propaganda anti-imperial (Lc 2,8-14). A Inscrição do Calendário de Priene, celebrando o nascimento do deus Augusto, é agora bastante conhecida:

“Considerando que a Providência, que regulou toda a nossa existência … levou nossa vida ao clímax da perfeição ao nos dar Augusto, a quem encheu de força para o bem-estar dos homens e que, sendo enviado a nós e a nossos descendentes como Salvador, colocou um fim à guerra e colocou todas as coisas em ordem; e tendo se tornado [deus] manifesto, César cumpriu todas as esperanças dos tempos anteriores… superando todos os benfeitores que o precederam… e considerando que, finalmente, o dia do nascimento do deus [Augusto] foi para o mundo inteiro o começo das boas novas (euangeliōn) a respeito dele….”

10. O menino Jesus é aclamado como o rei davídico que, no mínimo, derrubará um regime injusto, libertará seu povo da opressão, trará paz e justiça a Israel e restaurará a reputação internacional da nação – para que reis, magos e povos venham prestar homenagem. Esta foi a boa notícia.

11. José e Maria provavelmente ficaram com a família em Belém. Com o quarto de hóspedes (katalumati) já ocupado ou muito pequeno, Jesus nasce nas baias dos animais sob a sala principal e é colocado no comedouro. Isso será um sinal para os pastores (Lc 2,12). Por que? Talvez porque Isaías diga que “o jumento conhece a manjedoura do seu dono”, mas Israel não conheceu o Senhor (Is. 1,3, segundo a LXX); ou porque Jeremias diz que quando Jerusalém for restaurada, “haverá novamente neste lugar que é deserto e em todas as suas cidades, alojamentos (katalumata) de pastores guardando ovelhas” (Jr. 40,12 , segundo a LXX). Mais uma vez, uma mensagem revolucionária.

12. Simeão diz que viu a salvação que Iahweh preparou “na presença de todos os povos, luz para revelação aos gentios e para glória do teu povo Israel” (Lc 2,31–32). O que ele quer dizer é que o julgamento vindouro e a restauração de Israel revelarão o poder do Deus de Israel às nações e que isso trará glória e renome a Israel. Isso fica claro pela alusão a Is 52,10: “O Senhor desnudou seu santo braço diante dos olhos de todas as nações, e todos os confins da terra verão a salvação de nosso Deus”. Quando Deus redimir seu povo do cativeiro na Babilônia e trazê-lo de volta à terra, as nações verão e se maravilharão com esse extraordinário ato de salvação.

Dada a má reputação da Igreja e do Deus da Igreja no Ocidente hoje, sinto que precisamos de outro ato de redenção que gere maravilhas.

 

1. Let’s be blunt. Christmas has nothing to do with God coming to earth as a helpless babe to save humanity from sin, etc. That is another matter, it’s not what’s being said, it’s not the burden of the stories in Matthew and Luke. These narrate the birth of a king who will deliver first century Israel from a national crisis. When the angel says to Joseph that Mary’s son will “save his people from their sins” (Matt. 1:21), he means that Jesus will save Israel from the concrete social-political-religious transgressions that have brought the nation to the brink of catastrophe.

2. The key question to ask about the virgin conception of Jesus is not “Did it happen?” but “What did it mean?” Neither Matthew nor Luke understood it as the metaphysical process by which God became man. Rather it makes Jesus’ birth an outstanding prophetic “sign” of things to come.

3. A sign of what? It’s in the name “Immanuel”. During the Syro-Ephraimite war in the 8th century BC, Isaiah told a nervous king Ahaz that a boy would be born to a young woman in the royal court who would be given the name Immanuel, which means “God with us”. The mere existence of this significantly named child would be a “sign” to Ahaz that the alliance between Rezin and Pekah would fail and that YHWH would preserve Jerusalem from the Assyrians (Is. 7:10-17; 8:5-10). The birth of the boy, therefore, was a sign that God is with his people at a time of great political crisis. Same for the boy Jesus, who is not given the name Immanuel but a name meaning “YHWH is salvation” (Matt. 1:21).

4. Luke puts a different prophetic spin on the miraculous conception of Jesus. The child being born will be called not Immanuel or even Jesus but “holy, Son of God”. By this he means not that Jesus is the second person of the Trinity or God incarnate, true though that may in some sense be, but that he is the Davidic king who will bring peace to a people under Roman occupation and will rule over the house of Jacob for ever (Lk. 1:32-33, 35; 2:1, 11, 14).

5. I wonder if Luke is not also pointing his readers to Isaiah’s description of a restored Jerusalem when he says that the Spirit will come upon and overshadow (episkiasei) Mary, and that the child will be called “holy”: on that day, what is left behind in Jerusalem “will be called holy, all who have been recorded for life”, because the Lord will wash away the filth of his people; then he will come, and as a cloud will “overshadow” (skiasei) the city (Is. 4:2-6 LXX).

6. Mary expects God to keep his promise to Abraham and help Israel at this time of grave crisis by scattering the proud, bringing down the powerful from their thrones, raising up the wretched and low-born, filling the hungry with good things, and sending the rich away empty-handed (Lk. 1:51-55). Simeon says that “this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed…” (Lk. 2:34). This was inflammatory, revolutionary talk.

7. People like Zechariah and Elizabeth, Simeon and Anna, need salvation not on account of their own sins but because of the sins of the nation. These are righteous folk, but they are suffering the consequences of the wilful disobedience of a people that is on a broad road leading to destruction.

8. For the priest Zechariah the redemption of Israel simply means that he can go about the business of serving God in the temple without fearing for his life (Lk. 1:68-75). But he knows that redemption will begin with a devastating judgment against a corrupt priesthood (Lk. 1:76; cf. Mal. 3:1). The prophetess Anna expects no less and no more than the “redemption of Jerusalem” (Lk. 2:38).

9. Whereas the story of the coming of the magi is told against Herod, the angelic announcement to the shepherds has a ring of anti-imperial propaganda to it (Lk. 2:8-14). The Priene calendar inscription, celebrating the birth of the god Augustus, is now quite well known:

Whereas Providence, which has regulated our whole existence… has brought our life to the climax of perfection in giving to us Augustus, whom it filled with strength for the welfare of men, and who being sent to us and our descendants as Saviour, has put an end to war and has set all things in order; and having become [god] manifest, Caesar has fulfilled all the hopes of earlier times… in surpassing all the benefactors who preceded him…, and whereas, finally, the birthday of the god [Augustus] has been for the whole world the beginning of good news (euangeliōn) concerning him….

10. The infant Jesus is hailed as the Davidic king who will at the very least overthrow an unrighteous régime, deliver his people from oppression, bring peace and justice to Israel, and restore the international reputation of the nation—so that kings and magi and peoples would come to pay tribute. This was the good news.

11. Joseph and Mary presumably stay with family in Bethlehem. The guest room (katalumati) being already occupied or too small, Jesus is born in the animal stalls beneath the main living area and is laid in the feeding trough. This will be a sign to the shepherds (Lk. 2:12). Why? Perhaps because Isaiah says that “the donkey knows its master’s manger”, but Israel has not known the Lord (Is. 1:3 LXX); or because Jeremiah says that when Jerusalem is restored, there “shall again be in this place that is waste and in all its cities, lodgings (katalumata) of shepherds resting sheep” (Jer. 40:12 LXX). Again, a revolutionary message.

12. Simeon says that he has seen the salvation that YHWH has prepared “in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel” (Lk. 2:31–32). What he means is that the coming judgment and restoration of Israel will reveal the power and character of Israel’s God to the nations and that this will bring glory and renown to Israel. This is clear not least from the allusion to Isaiah 52:10: “The LORD has bared his holy arm before the eyes of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God.” When God redeems his people from captivity in Babylon and brings them back to the land, the nations will see and wonder at this extraordinary act of salvation.

Given the poor reputation of the church and of the God of the church in the West today, I feel that we are in need of another such act of wonder-engendering redemption.

My name is Andrew Perriman. My wife, Belinda, and I have lived in various parts of the world over the last 30 years: the Far East, Africa, the Middle East, the Netherlands, and now London. I’ve combined theological studies and writing with pastoral and missional work in a wide range of contexts. I have a degree in English Language and Literature from Oxford and an MPhil and PhD from the London School of Theology, of which I am an Associate Research Fellow. I teach New Testament occasionally, and I am an extension studies tutor and examiner for LST’s MA in Aspects and Implications of Biblical Interpretation. My overriding theological interest at the moment is in how we retell the biblical story as we negotiate the difficult transition from the centre to the margins of our culture following the collapse of Western Christendom.

Isaías 7,14 em Mateus 1,23

Inclino-me a pensar que o objetivo principal de Mateus ao contar as origens de Jesus é mostrar o status legal de Jesus como enteado de José, como herdeiro legal de Davi.

I incline to the view that the primary purpose, as Matthew tells the origins of Jesus, is for him to prove Jesus’ legal status as the stepson of Joseph, as a legal heir of David.

 

A young woman? A virgin? Pregnant? About to give birth? (Isa 7:14 in Matt 1:23) – John T. Squires: An Informed Faith – 21.12.2019

The passages set in the lectionary for this coming Sunday place alongside each other a prophetic oracle spoken by Isaiah, and an angelic announcement delivered toA young woman? A virgin? Pregnant? About to give birth? (Isa 7:14 in Matt 1:23) - John T Squires: An Informed Faith - 21.12.2019 Joseph. The two passages seem to sit side-by-side very comfortably. The Gospel selection from the book of origins recounts how the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. The prophetic selection from Isaiah declares that the Lord himself will give you a sign and looks to the conception, birth, and naming of a child.

The oracle of the prophet speaks about a child to be born to a young woman. The message of the angel announces a child to be born to a young woman who was a virgin. The author of the book of origins (whom I refer to, following tradition, as Matthew) quotes the prophetic oracle about the birth of a child and claims that it has been fulfilled in the angelic announcement about the birth of a child to Mary and Joseph. The angel follows the prophet in affirming that child to be born would be a sign to the people, that God was still with them, in the midst of their difficulties. But the status of the young mother is a question that has long vexed interpreters.

The Hebrew word found in the original oracle of the prophet, almah, refers simply to a young woman of childbearing age; it had no connotation at all relating to virginity. It occurs in eight other places in Hebrew scripture—with reference to Rebekah and Miriam, in three references to female musicians, and in wisdom texts relating simply to young women. In none of those places does it have any reference to the virginity of the young woman.

There is also, in Hebrew, the word bethulah, which refers specifically to a young woman who was a virgin; but it is important to note that this word was not employed by the prophet Isaiah. He clearly was referring to a young woman aged around puberty, who was now able to bear a child. He was not referring to a young woman who had never had sexual intercourse, who was still a virgin.

The Greek translation of these Hebrew texts was made some centuries before Jesus. The translation is known as the Septuagint, attributed to seventy wise scholars. In this translation, the Hebrew word bethulah is usually rendered in Greek as parthenos. This Greek word can refer quite generally to a young woman, but it can have a more specific reference to the virginity of the young woman.

Now, on two occasions in the Septuagint, the word almah is rendered as parthenos: Gen 34:3 and Isa 7:14. The first refers to Dinah. It occurs in the story at the point where the powerful prince Schechem rapes the young woman. The point is being made that her state of virginity has at that point been lost, so the Greek word is appropriate.

But the oracle of Isaiah 7 refers simply to a woman who, at an early stage in her capacity to bear a child, is indeed pregnant. So there appears to be no reference at all to her lack of sexual activity prior to this pregnancy. This much is clear in the Hebrew. But the Septuagint translators chose the Greek word parthenos.

We must wonder: is the choice of parthenos when translating Isa 7:14 from Hebrew a strategic move by the seventy wise scholars? Is it an inspired insight into the meaning of the Hebrew text? Or is it an unguarded moment, a slip of concentration, amongst the translators?

I incline to the latter view. I don’t think the intention of the Septuagint translators was to insist that we know more than what the original prophet knew—that is, the precise sexual status of the young woman in question, not just young, but still a virgin.

Nevertheless, Matthew uses the version of the prophet’s oracle that includes this Greek word. He quotes the Greek version of the Septuagint, since he is writing in Greek. Mind you, Matthew regularly and consistently quotes the Septuagint translation, rather than other options that would have been available to him. So this is not really a surprise.

Whatever identity we accord the author of this book of origins, it is quite clear that he was an educated Jewish male. As such, he would have known and used the scriptures of the people of Israel, in Hebrew. And yet, he is writing his account of Jesus in Greek—so he makes use, on a regular basis, of this version.

And this version places a focus on the virginal status of the young woman, who was to give birth to Jesus of Nazareth. So Matthew has deliberately chosen to include this in his story.

Why? That is a good question! Why?

Rather than seeing Matthew as trying to prove the historical veracity of the virginal status of Mary, however, I incline to the view that the primary purpose, as Matthew tells the origins of Jesus, is for him to prove Jesus’ legal status as the stepson of Joseph, as a legal heir of David. Whilst the infancy narrative in Luke places Mary at the centre of the story—and the angel makes his announcement directly to her—in Matthew’s version it is Joseph who is centre-stage—and the angel speaks to him, and only him, in this version.

This passage in Matthew 1 is the one and only time in the book of origins when the virginal status of the mother of Jesus is noted. By contrast, the Davidic lineage of Jesus, through Joseph, is a concern which is both in view here at the start of the whole story, and which returns at various points through the ensuing story. (See https://johntsquires.com/2019/12/17/now-the-birth-of-jesus-the-messiah-took-place-in-this-way-matthew-1/)

And as if to reinforce this lineage through Joseph, the book of origins takes pains to establish that Joseph, a descendant of David, was “a righteous man”, as befits a Davidic descendant (1:19; David is declared as righteous at 1 Sam 24:17).

Although, it is worth noting one way by which Joseph exemplifies the questionable moral character of his ancestor—initially he was “unwilling to expose her to public disgrace” and wanted to dismiss Mary (1:19). Nevertheless, after hearing the announcement of the angel, he remained faithful and “did as the angel of the Lord commanded him” (1:24).

And whilst he took Mary as his wife, Matthew maintains that, as a righteous man, Joseph “had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son” (1:25). At which point, we may presume, Joseph functions as the de facto father of the newborn child. So this is part of the pro-Davidic apologetic of this book, not the basis for the doctrine of the Virgin Birth.

Joseph, descendant of David, takes on the legal role of father of the child. (Indeed, we are never told that he refrained from relations when they were engaged, before Mary conceived; rather, might we infer that the shame that Joseph expresses incriminates him?)

Certainly, in Christian tradition the fathering of the child is attributed to the Holy Spirit, who overshadows the virgin to produce the child (see Luke 1:35). That developing tradition was presumably already known in early Christian communities of the first century. But how early, we do not know.

In the earliest decades of the movement that Jesus initiated, Paul makes no reference to this claim in any of his letters. He knows the Jewish origins of Jesus, but says nothing even hinting at Mary’s virginal status (see https://johntsquires.com/2019/12/19/descended-from-david-according-to-the-flesh-rom-1/)

The letter of James, if it was authored by the brother of Jesus, is an early witness that shows no concern for this doctrine. Mark, the earliest extant Gospel, makes no reference at all to the virginal status of Mary. Early witnesses make no reference to the doctrine which emerged much later, they provide no hints or clues upon which this dogma can be founded.

What we do know is that this claim was articulated in the later part of the first century in the orderly account attributed to Luke, as well as in this book of origins, attributed to Matthew, who includes the prophetic oracle as a foundation for the angelic announcement and to refer directly to this claim (1:18, 20).

And so the tradition of the virginal conception of Mary arose, eventually leading to the (less accurate) claim about the birth of Jesus having been a Virgin Birth, now strongly cemented in traditional Christian dogma. But I don’t think that this particular book of origins was really concerned, either to establish this claim, or to utilise it as a foundation for a whole developed dogma about Jesus, as would subsequently occur in Christian tradition.

And thus, I don’t think we need to hold to a notion that the mother of Jesus was still a virgin when he was born. She was, quite simply, young, at the beginning of her childbearing years, around 14 or 15 years of age. What sexual activity she engaged in at that time can never be known. But she was, in due course, married to a descendant of David; and that is what mattered for Matthew.

Quem é John T. Squires?

My name is John Squires. I live in the Australian Capital Territory. I have been an active participant in the Uniting Church in Australia (UCA) since it was formed in 1977, and was ordained as a Minister of the Word in this church in 1980. I have served in rural, regional, and urban congregations and as a Presbytery Resource Minister and Intentional Interim Minister. For two decades I taught Biblical Studies at a theological college and most recently I was Director of Education and Formation and Principal of the Perth Theological Hall. I’ve studied the scriptures in depth; I hold a number of degrees, including a PhD in early Christian literature. I am committed to providing the best opportunities for education within the church, so that people can hold to an informed faith, which is how the UCA Basis of Union describes it. This blog is one contribution to that ongoing task.

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Sobre o nascimento e o nome de Jesus de Nazaré

Encontrei este texto na internet e o achei muito bem feito. Abaixo a reprodução em espanhol.

Sobre el nacimiento y nombre de Jesús de Nazaret

¿Nombre?
Yeshua bar Yosef.
¿Fecha y lugar de nacimiento?
….

¿Que habría respondido Jesús, ya de adulto, si un soldado romano, quizás para cumplimentar un censo, le hubiera hecho estas preguntas? Para la tradición cristiana, las respuestas son obvias. Jesús nació en Belén el 25 de diciembre del año 1 a. C., apenas seis días antes de que comenzara el año 1 de nuestra era.

Vayamos por partes. Para el mundo actual, se trata de Jesús de Nazaret o Jesucristo. Sin embargo, todas estas denominaciones son fruto de la tradición cristiana. Jesús es la versión griega del nombre original hebreo, Yeshua. Jesucristo supone la fusión de dos conceptos, el nombre propio y el de la palabra griega jristós, “ungido”, traducción a su vez del hebreo meshiah, que designaba al heredero al trono de Israel, que era ungido con aceite sobre su cabeza como forma de coronación. Por su parte, Jesús de Nazaret indica el lugar de residencia o nacimiento (ya lo veremos), quizás incluso una especie de apodo si, en lugar de Nazaret, se entiende como Nazareno, Nazireo, Nazir, aquel que se consagraba a Dios mediante un voto personal y se comprometía a no cortarse el cabello, y a no consumir licor ni alimentos impuros, tal como se describe en Jueces 13, 4-7 a propósito de Sansón. Sin embargo, ninguna de estas formas refleja el modo habitual de nombrar a alguien en la Judea del siglo primero. Lo normal es que fuese conocido como Yeshua bar Yosef (Jesús, hijo de José) en su forma aramea (bar en lugar del hebreo ben), pues el arameo era la lengua que se hablaba en aquel tiempo, mientras que el hebreo había quedado como lengua litúrgica, de un modo similar al latín en el mundo católico actual.

¿Cuán nació Yeshua bar Yosef? Contamos como fuentes de información con los relatos de los dos Evangelios de la Infancia, el de Mateo (capítulos 1 y 2) y el de Lucas (Capítulos 1 al 3), y en ellos se nos ofrecen dos anclajes cronológicos: el primero, en Lucas 1, 5 y Mateo 2, 1, que Jesús nació en tiempos del rey Herodes el Grande (40-4 a. C.), y el segundo, en Lucas 2, 1-2, que coincidió con el censo que, en tiempos de Augusto, Quirino llevó a cabo en la provincia romana de Siria, y del que también tenemos noticias por Flavio Josefo, quien tanto en sus Antigüedades de los judíos XVII, 355 y XVIII 1.2.26.102, como en su Guerra Judía VII, 253, se refiere a él y destaca su carácter novedoso y sin precedentes. El problema es que Quirino solo fue gobernador de la provincia de Siria (que en ese momento ya incluía Judea) en el año 6 de nuestra era. Así pues, las dos noticias son irreconciliables desde un punto de vista cronológico.

Sin embargo, la mención de este censo puede explicarse como un recurso de Lucas para explicar por qué José y María hubieron de marchar desde su lugar de residencia en Galilea hasta Belén, todo ello para hacer que se cumpla la profecía del nacimiento del Mesías en la ciudad natal del rey David (véase más abajo). Además, esta fecha se contradice igualmente con otro dato que nos ofrece el mismo evangelista, a saber, que Jesús tenía unos treinta años cuando comenzó su predicación (Lucas 3, 23). Asumiendo que su predicación duró unos tres años, y que fue crucificado siendo gobernador de Judea Poncio Pilato (26-36 d.C.), deberemos situar su nacimiento entre los años 7 a.C. y 3 d.C., lo que, en las fechas más bajas nos sitúa en el reinado de Herodes pero en ningún caso lo ponen en relación con el censo de Quirino.

Pese al relato del milagroso nacimiento en Belén que podemos leer en Mateo y Lucas, lo más probable es que se trate de una elaboración literaria para identificar a Jesús con el Mesías anunciado en el Antiguo Testamento. De hecho, así lo indica el evangelista Mateo, que no pierde la ocasión de señalar que, con el nacimiento de Jesús en Belén, se cumplen las palabras del profeta Miqueas 5, 1:

“Pero tú, Belén de Efratah, aunque pequeña para figurar en los clanes de Judá, de ti me saldrá quien ha de ser dominador de Israel, cuyo origen viene de antaño, desde los días antiguos”.

Más allá de estos versículos, a nadie se le escapaba que Belén había sido la cuna del rey David y que, por lo tanto, resultaría lógico que también naciese en esa ciudad el Mesías, descendiente de David y en el que se encarnaba la promesa hecha al rey en 2Samuel 7, 12-16: “cuando tu vida llegue a su fin y vayas a descansar entre tus antepasados, yo pondré en el trono a uno de tus propios descendientes, y afirmaré su reino. Será él quien construya una casa en mi honor, y yo afirmaré su trono real para siempre. Yo seré su padre, y él será mi hijo. Así que, cuando haga lo malo, lo castigaré con varas y azotes, como lo haría un padre. Sin embargo, no le negaré mi amor, como se lo negué a Saúl, a quien abandoné para abrirte paso. Tu casa y tu reino durarán para siempre delante de mí; tu trono quedará establecido para siempre”.

Pero no sólo el lugar de nacimiento es fruto de la necesidad de situar a Jesús dentro del esquema del esperado Mesías, sino que hay otros elementos de la historia que cumplen esta misma función. Cuando los magos de Oriente se presentan ante Herodes para preguntarle por el recién nacido, el rey, asustado ante la posibilidad de perder su trono, ordena el asesinato de todos los niños menores de dos años de Belén. Resulta sorprendente que Flavio Josefo, enemigo acérrimo de Herodes el Grande, no consigne este hecho en su Guerra de los Judíos, cuando puso el mayor empeño en citar, uno por uno, todos los crímenes imputables al monarca idumeo. ¿Cómo se explica pasar por alto semejante masacre, la prueba concluyente de la abyección de Herodes? Sencillamente, porque nunca sucedió. Hay que hacer notar la similitud entre este episodio y otro del Antiguo Testamento, en Éxodo 1, sobre el nacimiento de Moisés, donde el faraón ordena la muerte de todos los niños hebreos de su reino. El propósito de esta narración es doble. Por una parte, al atribuir el crimen a Herodes, se proporciona un marco histórico adecuado y creíble a la profecía deJesus, em esboço de Joan Taylor,  What Did Jesus Look Like?  London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2018, p. 192 (Figure 76) Jeremías 31, 15:

Una voz se oyó en Ramá,
Un llanto y un gran lamento:
Raquel llorando a sus hijos
¡Y no quería consolarse, porque ya no existen!

Este versículo, trasladado al Nuevo Testamento, identifica a Raquel con el pueblo de Belén, donde se encuentra su tumba. Y así, los hijos de Raquel son los niños asesinados en Belén por orden de Herodes.

Por otro lado, dentro de este relato, Jesús sufre una persecución que es típica de aquellos niños llamados a cumplir una misión fuera del alcance del común de los humanos. Es un peligro que no sólo amenaza a Moisés, sino también a Rómulo y Remo o Ciro, entre otros. De este modo, el lector del Nuevo Testamento, fuese judío o gentil, vería claro desde el principio que el protagonista del relato que estaba leyendo era un personaje fuera de lo común, alguien que encajaba en el prototipo de héroe nacional o mitológico. Pero la identificación va más allá. A ningún lector del siglo primero se le pasaría por alto la similitud ya mencionada entre la matanza de los inocentes y la del faraón en tiempos de Moisés. Hay que recordar que Moisés es el encargado de recibir la Ley de Dios en el monte Sinaí, y que Jesús es el encargado de darla por superada en su Sermón de la Montaña. Así pues, el relato de Mateo presentaba a Jesús como el nuevo Moisés, llamado a superar al primero.

Fuera de estas menciones en los llamados Evangelios de la Infancia de Mateo y Lucas, todos los indicios del resto de textos evangélicos apuntan en otra dirección diferente a Belén: Jesús nació probablemente en Galilea, unos trescientos kilómetros al norte de Jerusalén y de la propia ciudad natal de David. En numerosas ocasiones recibe el nombre de Iesous ho nazarenos o ho Nazoraios, lo que, para algunos, significa que era natural de Nazaret, en Galilea, que se suele citar como patria de Jesús y su familia (“y llegó a Nazaret, donde se había criado”, Lc 4, 16, aunque nótese que no dice que naciese allí).

En la época que nos ocupa, Nazaret era un lugar tan ínfimo que a duras penas obtendría la consideración de pueblo. Las excavaciones arqueológicas han revelado poco más que algunas grutas donde vivirían en condiciones muy precarias una pocas familias. Al contemplarlas, no podemos sino recordar la incredulidad de Natanel cuando le cuentan que han encontrado a aquél del que había escrito Moisés en la ley y los profetas: “Jesús, hijo de José, el de Nazaret”, y Natanel pregunta sorprendido: “¿De Nazaret puede haber algo bueno?” (Juan 1, 46).

Sin embargo, aunque no exista ninguna prueba que lo confirme, creo que no debería descartarse la posibilidad de que Jesús naciese en Cafarnaún, un pueblo de cierta importancia situado en la orilla norte del Mar de Galilea, y en cuyos alrededores se desarrolla la acción de la mayoría de los episodios del comienzo de la predicación de Jesús. Por ejemplo, Jesús enseña en la sinagoga de Cafarnaún, y cerca de allí tiene lugar el milagro de la multiplicación de los panes y los peces, la curación de la suegra de Pedro, la vocación de los discípulos, la tempestad calmada, etc. De hecho, sus primeros discípulos son todos originarios de Cafarnaún o de la vecina Betsaida.

Sea Nazaret o Cafarnaún el pueblo natal, Jesús procedería de Galilea, una región situada al norte del actual Israel en la que se daba una enorme mezcla de población, por lo que los judíos más ortodoxos la consideraban pagana (de ahí su nombre de Galilea de los gentiles, es decir, de los no judíos). Además, Galilea tenía fama de estar habitada por gente con gran sentido de la independencia y difícil de gobernar, y allí habían surgido, y surgirían en el futuro, numerosos movimientos revolucionarios de liberación.

Volviendo a la pregunta inicial, y teniendo en cuenta la información (a veces contradictoria, y casi nunca con verdadera intención historiográfica, sino más bien teológica) que nos ofrecen los evangelios, creo que si Jesús hubiera tenido que responder al soldado romano de nuestra escena imaginaria, habría respondido lo siguiente:

¿Nombre?
Yeshua bar Yosef.
¿Fecha de nacimiento?
Aproximadamente en el año 3753 desde la creación del mundo, que fue el trigésimo tercer año de reinado de Herodes en Judea, y también el vigésimo año del imperio del emperador Octaviano Augusto en Roma (7 a. C.)
¿Lugar de nacimiento?
Nazaret, Galilea.

Autor
Javier Alonso López – Licenciado en Filología Semítica (hebreo y arameo), DEA en Historia Antigua y Máster en lenguas y culturas del Oriente Próximo Antiguo, todo por la Universidad Complutense de Madrid. Profesor de la IE University, autor de varios libros sobre religiones e historia, en especial sobre judaísmo y mundo cristiano primitivo.

Fonte: Mediterráneo Antiguo – 23 diciembre, 2015

A ressurreição de Jesus segundo seus primeiros seguidores

O artigo

The Logic of Jesus’ Resurrection – By Bruce Chilton – The Bible and Interpretation: October 2019

A apresentação convencional da ressurreição [túmulo vazio] tornou-se tão comum que precisa ser mencionada para ser deixada de lado, porque se opõe ao fato de que “o túmulo vazio” é uma tradição tardia entre as várias tradições sobre como Deus ressuscitou Jesus dos mortos. Segundo os textos do Novo Testamento, a ressurreição foi concebida como corpórea pelos discípulos de Jesus, mas eles afirmaram isto de modos diferentes e nem sempre conceberam seu corpo de maneira física.

The conventional presentation [empty tomb] has become so prevalent that it needs to be mentioned in order to be set aside because it flies in the face of the fact that “the empty tomb” is a latecomer to the traditions regarding how God raised Jesus from the dead. The resurrection was conceived of as bodily by Jesus’ disciples, but they did not all assert a single origin story, nor did they always conceive of his body in a physical way.

O livro

CHILTON, B. D. Resurrection Logic: How Jesus’ First Followers Believed God Raised Him from the Dead. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2019, 319 p. – ISBN 9781481310635.

Bruce ChiltonCHILTON, B. D. Resurrection Logic: How Jesus' First Followers Believed God Raised Him from the Dead. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2019 investigates the Easter event of Jesus in Resurrection Logic. He undertakes his close reading of the New Testament texts without privileging the exact nature of the resurrection, but rather begins by situating his study of the resurrection in the context of Sumerian, Egyptian, Greek, and Syrian conceptions of the afterlife. He then identifies Jewish monotheistic affirmations of bodily resurrection in the Second Temple period as the most immediate context for early Christian claims. Chilton surveys first-generation accounts of Jesus’ resurrection and finds a pluriform–and even at times seemingly contradictory–range of testimony from Jesus’ first followers. This diversity, as Chilton demonstrates, prompted early Christianity to interpret the resurrection traditions by means of prophecy and coordinated narrative. In the end, Chilton points to how the differing conceptions of the ways that God governs the world produced distinct understandings–or “sciences”–of the Easter event. Each understanding contained its own internal logic, which contributed to the collective witness of the early church handed down through the canonical text. In doing so, Chilton reveals the full tapestry of perspectives held together by the common-thread confession of Jesus’ ongoing life and victory over death.

Atire a primeira pedra: o caso da mulher adúltera em João

A perícope da adúltera (em latim: pericope adulterae) está em Jo 7,53-8,11. Mas muitos estudiosos pensam que o relato não faz parte do texto original do evangelho de João.

O livro To Cast the First Stone: The Transmission of a Gospel Story apresenta os resultados de mais de dez anos de pesquisa na história de transmissão e recepção da perícope da adúltera por Jennifer Knust, professora de Estudos Religiosos na Universidade Duke, USA, e Tommy Wasserman, professor de Estudos Bíblicos da Ansgar Teologiske Høgskole, Noruega.

A obra é composta de uma introdução, quatro seções contendo oito capítulos e algumas reflexões finais.

KNUST, J. ; WASSERMAN, T. To Cast the First Stone: The Transmission of a Gospel Story. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2019, 464 p. – ISBN 9780691169880.

The story of the woman taken in adultery features a dramatic confrontation between Jesus and the Pharisees over whether the adulteress should be stoned as the law commands. In response, Jesus famously states, “Let him who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” To Cast the First Stone traces the history of thisKNUST, J. ; WASSERMAN, T. To Cast the First Stone: The Transmission of a Gospel Story. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2019 provocative story from its first appearance to its enduring presence today.

Likely added to the Gospel of John in the third century, the passage is often held up by modern critics as an example of textual corruption by early Christian scribes and editors, yet a judgment of corruption obscures the warm embrace the story actually received. Jennifer Knust and Tommy Wasserman trace the story’s incorporation into Gospel books, liturgical practices, storytelling, and art, overturning the mistaken perception that it was either peripheral or suppressed, even in the Greek East. The authors also explore the story’s many different meanings. Taken as an illustration of the expansiveness of Christ’s mercy, the purported superiority of Christians over Jews, the necessity of penance, and more, this vivid episode has invited any number of creative receptions. This history reveals as much about the changing priorities of audiences, scribes, editors, and scholars as it does about an “original” text of John.

To Cast the First Stone calls attention to significant shifts in Christian book cultures and the enduring impact of oral tradition on the preservation―and destabilization―of scripture.

 

Resenha na Bryn Mawr Classical Review em 07.10.2019 por Timothy N. Mitchell, Universidade de Birmingham, Reino Unido

The story of the woman caught in adultery (pericope adulterae, hereafter PA) has sparked devotion, art, and scholarship throughout the Christian ages. Even though it has traditionally been located in the Gospel of John, the account has an abnormal transmission history. Because of this, the story has been at the center of many debates involving the text and canon of the Gospels.

To Cast the First Stone codifies the results of more than ten years of research into the transmission and reception history of the PA by Jennifer Knust, Professor of Religious Studies at Duke University, and Tommy Wasserman, Professor of Biblical Studies at Ansgar Teologiske Høgskole in Norway. The work is comprised of an introduction, four sections containing eight chapters, and some “Concluding Reflections.”

Part I is composed of chapter 1 only which surveys modern scholarship on the PA. The emergence of modern methods of textual criticism and critical approaches to the study of the Gospels have often centered on this account. Even though modern textual criticism regards the story as not originally Johannine, scholars, pastors, and teachers continue to study and draw theological principles from the passage.

Part II consists of chapters 2-4 and discusses the development of the “Gospel book” and its connection with the gospel message. It is clear that the PA was not originally contained in the Gospel of John, and was not connected with any of the other canonical Gospels. Yet this did not prevent the account from being highly popular which resulted in its preservation. Whatever its origin, considering the scribal culture of the time, it is highly unlikely that the PA was deliberately suppressed or deleted from a gospel book.

Part III comprises chapters 5-6 and analyzes the preservation of the PA in the manuscript tradition and its representation in the art and teaching of the late antique and medieval periods. The evidence tells against the popular notion that the account was marginal to Christian belief. This section also considers Greek manuscript evidence such as the Codices Vaticanus and Sinaiticus, and the canon tables of Eusebius which do not contain the account. The Latin tradition, however, such as Codex Bezae, and the Latin fathers Ambrose, Jerome, and Augustine, accepted the story as authentically Johannine. All of this reinforces the knowledge that, even in the post Constantinian age, there were different Gospel texts circulating, those that included the passage and others that did not.

Part IV contains chapters 7-8 that consider the residue of the story that is located in the paratextual notes, headings and marginal comments in the Old Latin and Byzantine manuscript traditions. In the Old Latin, the paratextual features indicate the PA’s earlier absence from tradition, even though the account is retained in most Latin manuscripts. In the Greek tradition, the story is mentioned in chapter headings in late antiquity revealing that the PA was revered even in Greek contexts. The liturgical history of the account in the Latin and Greek traditions is also analyzed in this section. The liturgy ensured the PA’s textual preservation in both the Roman and Byzantine manuscript traditions.

There is one potentially confusing aspect of the book. At the end of chapter 1 the authors state clearly that they do not intend to solve “the textual standing of the passage” (46). This report appears to contradict their ‘Concluding Reflections,’ however, where Knust and Wasserman assert that “it is almost certainly correct that the story cannot be Johannine in its initial framing” (343). A little later they give a lengthy summary of the data, stating that, “Our survey of the evidence has convinced us that the story was interpolated into a Greek copy of John in the West,” and concluding that “the story was not actively suppressed on theological grounds, . . . despite the custom among some Byzantine scribes and scholars of identifying the passage as spurious.” (344).

Readers who are looking for a decision on the historical authenticity of the passage will be disappointed. Knust and Wasserman explain that, in the same spirit as Chris Keith’s treatment of the pericope, their book does not address the account’s canonicity or historicity (46).1 Yet there are hints that the passage may have emerged as an apocryphal account. This is because “the story of Jesus and the adulteress would have had a wide currency that could have served ancient Christians quite well, as the extensive second- and third-century Christian appreciation of the story of Susanna also demonstrates” (139).

The extent of Knust and Wasserman’s research is wide ranging, and space prevents a thorough overview of all the beneficial features. Thus, the following paragraphs will merely highlight a few examples that stood out as innovative to this reviewer.

The overview of the history of modern scholarship is rich in detail to such an extent that even Hitler and the Nazis receive a mention in a footnote discussing the scholarship of Walter Grundmann (37, n. 73). Knust and Wasserman insightfully compare the reception of the PA and the Longer Ending of Mark (hereafter LE) in modern scholarship. For example, though Samuel Tregelles viewed both the PA and LE as not original to the Gospels, he opted for treating both passages differently (18-19). The LE was inauthentic, yet “canonical,” and the PA was a “true narration” and a valid source for the “historical Jesus” (19). As modern criticism progressed into the mid-twentieth century, these attitudes became more widespread, the PA was increasingly viewed as a legitimate source for the “historical Jesus” and the LE was regarded as less and less historical (40). Because the LE contains material more difficult to assess historically, such as miracles and prophecies, this passage was “far less attractive” for those scholars reconstructing the “historical Jesus” (40). This comparison between the reception of the PA and the LE highlights the ways in which scholarly desires, such as a search for an “historical Jesus,” can deeply affect research outcomes.

Along with an overview of modern scholarship, book history and scribal practices are employed in reconstructing the history of the PA. Ancient book making, publication, circulation, borrowing, and collecting practices have rarely been brought to bear in discussing individual variation units. In a refreshing look at the evidence, Knust and Wasserman consider the private, and ad hoc circulation of books within Christian communities and the impact this would have had on the transmission of the story (70-76). Other features of Christian book making are examined as well, such as nomina sacra, and the early Christian preference for the codex format for their Gospel books (78-82). These features reveal that “convention, consensus, and the setting for which a book was produced” affected its “final form apart from any institutional check” (82). Even though an understanding of Christian book culture does not solve the mystery of when the account became Johannine, this knowledge “has helped us understand a book culture where such an event could have taken place” (83-84). Knust and Wasserman demonstrate that an understanding of Christian book culture can and should take an essential role in the study of textual variants and reconstructing a transmission history.

The scholarship of Origen is ingeniously utilized in order to test the plausibility of the PA being intentionally omitted from John (122). It is possible that the account was removed in late antiquity during the process of correcting (διόρθωσις) an edition (ἔκδοσις) of John (122). In his commentary on Matthew, Origen indicates that it was his practice not to delete a textually suspect passage from his edition of the Greek Old Testament, rather, he would retain variant readings and indicate where they were sourced, the Hebrew or other Greek editions (130). Origen’s response to Julius Africanus’s enquiry into the history of the Susanna story in Daniel is particularly relevant to the PA in John. Though the account of Susanna was indeed spurious, Origen was reluctant to athetize the story from his own Greek edition of Daniel because the account had a long standing in Christian worship (131-134). Knust and Wasserman rightly see this as evidence against the theory that the PA was deliberately removed from some additions of John.

One of the more fascinating elements of the book is the discussion centering on the liturgy, both in the Latin West, and in the Greek East and its role in shaping the text of John’s Gospel. In Byzantine manuscripts of John, the account is often marked with the indication “υπ(ερβαλε) (skip), identifying it as external to the Pentecost lection” (269-270). In the Greek tradition the Pentecost reading ran from John 3:37 to John 7:52, at which point the “skip” notation jumps over the PA and continues the lection at John 8:12 (269-270). This “skip” lection likely indicates that the story did not “enter Byzantine copies of John until the close of the fourth century, or even later” (299). The oldest Latin capitula known, “Type Cy,” has an abbreviated summary of the PA which stands in contrast to the other lengthier summaries (263). This feature may or may not indicate a later addition to these Latin capitula; it could also suggest that the story was present in contexts where Greek-Latin diglots were used (263-266). Along with this, Family 1 manuscripts, Codex 1 and 1582, give evidence of Greek kephalaia that included the PA as early as the 5th century (279-284). Though much more could be said in this review, Knust and Wasserman reveal that the Greek liturgy is a mine rich in data that assists in locating when an important textual reading may have entered into the Gospel of John.

To Cast the First Stone manages to be both exact in detail and broad in its use of data. Readers will both gain a deeper understanding of the transmission history of the PA and be exposed to a breadth of information on early Christian book culture, scribal and scholastic conventions, and lectionary practices. Knust and Wasserman’s work is a model of seemingly disparate elements being brought together in order to carefully examine an important textual variant.

This study differs from other books on the PA, such as Chris Keith’s, The Pericope Adulterae, the Gospel of John, and the Literacy of Jesus, in that Knust and Wasserman do not attempt answer the question of origins of the PA, as Keith’s work attempts to answer. To Cast the First Stone also does not engage in an exegetical analysis of the theology or vocabulary in the text of the passage.

This work will appeal to a wide audience. Christian historians, theologians, textual scholars, and interested lay readers may find the work helpful. In the book can be found careful historical analysis of early Christian; attitudes towards “sinning” women and their influence on receiving or rejecting a passage of “scripture;” scribal culture and the probability of theologically motivated textual changes; and the role of book production and publication in shaping the text. This book is will likely become the standard reference for the textual history of the story of the woman caught in adultery.

Notes:

1. Chris Keith, The Pericope Adulterae, the Gospel of John, and the Literacy of Jesus (New Testament Tools, Studies, and Documents 38; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2009).