This week the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary held a faculty panel discussion about Bishop N. T. Wright’s views on the doctrine of justification. The panel featured Denny Burk, Tom Schreiner, Mark Seifrid, and Brian Vickers, with President Al Mohler moderating.

After watching the almost hour long video I have come to a few conclusions regarding not only the panel, but the New/Old Perspective debate in general.

First, concerning the panel discussion, I will always think it to be unfair for any academic institution to not have direct dialogue with someone who can carefully articulate the opponents view, that person being the opponent or someone who holds to a similar view. However, I can understand that many times this is impossible. That being said, while SBTS did not have Wright come to the discussion, I am understanding to reasons why.

Second, I have been blessed by a friendship with Denny Burk. He taught me New Testament Survey at Criswell College and shared several intimate conversations about my sin, frustrations in ministry, and times of blessing in my Christian life. Also, Tom Schreiner (probably the most prolific biblical scholar at SBTS) has unknowingly been influential in my biblical interpretation through his works on Romans (BECNT), his Pauline theology, and his New Testament theology. I haven’t engaged Seifrid’s or Vickers’ major texts, but have read some journal articles they have published.

Third, I thought the panel asked honest questions that need to be answered by Wright and those who advocate the NPP. The panel is thinking in a primarily pastoral way (which is not lacking in Wright, but is fleshed out in a different direction), which I think should be commended.

Fourth, and my most important objection to the form of the discussion, the panel does not engage Wright on any text (with maybe the exception of Dr. Seifrid on Galatians 2 and Dr. Burk on 2 Cor 5.21) but only engages him on a Reformational level. Burk says as much: “This [Wright's view on justification] is not what our traditional has held.” Seifrid makes my point for me, saying that we can no longer engage Wright on a traditional level but that “someone is going to have to engage Wright on the Bible itself.” This is really the heart of the matter for me. Opponents of the NPP, including Guy Waters andJohn Piper (definitely not as much as Waters), have continued to draw their conclusions from Reformed doctrinal tradition, even if they engage in texts.

The differences in the SBTS faculty and Dr. Wright are fundamental. SBTS is known for being a solidly systematic-theological school. It seems that exegetical theology will always be submissive to a Reformed systematic theology. This is why these men (and others like them, i.e. Gerald Bray) throw up the traditional red flag everytime something within the reformational framework is questioned. ‘Why shouldn’t you believe in the doctrine of justification as articulated by Wright and others like him?’ you might ask. ‘Because it steps outside our doctrinal tradition’ would be their reply. It is rare to hear someone from the Neo-Reformed community engage questions on a purely exegetical level. This is the best explanation to the reason why in an entire hour of discussion on Wright, not one time was their a serious exegetical discussion. Instead, nearly 20 minutes was dedicated to the systematic doctrine of the imputation of Christ’s righteousness to the believer.

In closing, if someone is going to genuinely take on Wright in a public, academic forum like this, they will have to follow Dr. Seifrid’s advice and engage him on an exclusively textual level. Let’s put aside the theo-babble, open our Greek text and have good-hearted, passionate, edifying discussion. If this doesn’t happen we’ll still only be speaking into the air.

Along with the announcement came a sort of apology for the production of the TNIV. Moe Girkins, president of Zondervan, called the TNIV “divisive” and claiming the responsibility to “undo the damage” the TNIV has caused. The aim now is to revise the 1984 updated version of the NIV and publish the 2011 version (NIVBible2011.com).

This affects me, personally, as I have just become comfortable with the TNIV in my daily bible reading and scholarly work (the TNIV is the only version to translate Mark 1.41 correctly). I do, however, have faith in the Committee on Bible Translation that they will produce an even better version than the TNIV.

The bad news today is that the division between egalitarians and complementarians will be even more deep. With the praise of Zondervan’s apology from the likes of Ligon Duncan, president of the Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood, I’m sure the egalitarian blood will begin to boil and we won’t be rid of controversy, but will see more to come.

Now the dueling pastors are at it again. In case you haven’t heard, this past week tornadoes touched down in the Minneapolis area. A particular tornado struck during the meeting of the ELCA  (Evangelical Lutheran Church of America), where the issue at hand was the ordination and support of gay clergy. (They voted that monogamous gays can serve.)You can read about all that here and other sources.

The next day Piper posted his commentary on the whole matter. The whole point of his post is that moments like this are a glimpse of God’s judgment on sin and should lead us to repentance (arguing mostly from Luke 13 and other similar passages). (Piper posted a clarification of Thursday’s post here, which basically rehashes his main point.) Yesterday, Boyd responded with a detailed critique of Piper’s comments.

The repeated disagreement between the Minnesota pastors stems from a clash of worldviews. Boyd is an Arminian and an Open Theist; Piper is a Calvinist and determinist. These theological “systems” are totally opposed to each other and represent different views of God. One’s view of God impacts one’s view of the world and therefore, influences how one interprets world events.

It’s not surprising that Piper and Boyd disagree. The best that we onlookers can do is to take notes, carefully weigh the exegesis from both sides, and think long and hard about how we view God, his justice, the powers, and the Scriptures.

It wasn’t until I listened to a set of three lectures delivered by Wright at Calvin College in January 2003 that things began to click. (You can find the lectures here.) Wright took Romans 1-11 and divided it into three sections and lectured for an hour over each part and then took questions over the material. It was the most informative time I had spent in regard to my study of the New Perspective. The pieces of the narrative framework began to take shape.

Fastfoward to August 2009 when I read Justification. This book has reinforced the key features of Paul’s letters. It’s not only about “how I am justified,” but seeing Paul’s theology in light of the bigger picture of Israel’s history and its climax in the death and resurrection of Jesus.

The point of this post is that no matter what the critics may say, give Wright a chance. Justification will show that Wright is right on justification.

Christ died for the sins of the world, and to ransom that world. 1 Tim. 2.4-5 puts the matter succinctly. God our savior “wants all people to be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth. For there is one God and one mediator between God and human beings, Christ Jesus, himself human, who gave himself as a ransom for all people.” One could compare this to John 3.17, God sent his Son into the world not to condemn the world, but to save the world, or the repeated refrain in Hebrews that Christ died once for all time, for all persons, and so on. (See the discussion of these matters in my forthcoming volumes on NT Theology and Ethics entitled The Indelible Image).

But this is not just a matter of finding sufficient proof texts (of which there are many more), it is a matter of one’s theology of the divine character. God is love, holy love, to be sure, but nonetheless love, and as 1 Tim. 2.4 says, the desire of God’s heart is that all persons be saved. It is not just the elect whom God loves, but as John 3.16 says, the world, for whom Christ was sent to die. It follows from this that Christ’s atoning death is sufficient for the salvation of all persons, but only efficient for those who respond in faith to God’s gracious provision of redemption.

Even more foundational is the understanding of the meaning of saying that God is love. Among other things, this means God is committed to relating to those created in his image in love. Now real love must be freely given, and freely received. It cannot be predetermined, manipulated, coerced or else it becomes contrary to what the Bible says love is (see 1 Cor. 13). In the debate between whether the primary trait of God is God’s sovereignty or God’s love, it seems clear that God exercises his power in love, and for loving ends. Even his acts of judgment, short of final judgment, are not meant to be punitive but rather corrective and restorative. God in short, is unlike vindictive human beings, very unlike them. Thus Hosea relates that God says “All my compassion is aroused. I will not carry out my fierce anger … For I am God and not a human being.” God, the divine parent, is not less loving than the best of human parents, God is more loving. If Christ is the perfect incarnation of the character of God, then the answer to the question, for whom did Christ die, becomes theologically self-evident— for the world which God created and still loves.

This is a clear presentation of the Arminian view of the extent of the atonement. The key phrases are “Christ’s atoning death is sufficient for the salvation of all persons, but only efficient for those who respond in faith” and, “Now real love must be freely given, and freely received.” Christ’s death makes it possible for people to accept the gift of forgiveness of sin. But it is only a possibility. The finality of the transaction (if we can use this metaphor) is dependent upon the human rather than God.

The attractive part of this view is its emphasis on God’s love for the cosmos. God does indeed love the world. This can be seen in the call of Abraham and his descendents (including those of us who also trust God to fulfill his end of the bargain – see Romans and Galatians) to be a blessing to the world. Romans 8 emphasizes a view of redemption that is not totally exclusive to individual Christians, but toward the entire created order. That chapter ends with a confirmation that nothing can separate us from God’s love. It is God’s love that compels him to save not only us that make up his people, but also put the entire world to rights.

The problem with the Arminian view is that it does not deal properly with the texts that speak of election and predestination. This is of course where the controversy comes. Discussion of the extent of the atonement usually is complicated by unnecessary debates about decretal theology and the use of funny words like supralapsarianism. In some sense or another God has predestined and chosen a people for himself and has shed his son’s blood for their redemption. At the same time, however, the call to join God’s people is given to anyone who has ears to hear. How all that plays out is just simply not laid out in the text. Sometimes it’s better to embrace paradox rather than trying to figure everything out.

HT: Euangelion

The problem with Ehrman is that he is actively seeking to convert Evangelical Christians to his life of doubt in the truthfulness of Scripture. He does this with his captivating writing style and exaggeration of key issues in New Testament criticism. This is the point Bock wishes to make in his interview with John Dickson:

(The disciples of John and the Pharisees were fasting.) And they came and asked Jesus, “Why is it that the disciples of John and the disciples[1] of the Pharisees are fasting, but your disciples are not fasting?” And Jesus said to them, “Are the groomsmen able to fast while the bridegroom is with them? As long as they have the bridegroom with them they are unable to fast. But the days will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them, and then, in that day, they will fast.

No one sews an unshrunk patch on an old garment. If they do, the new piece will pull away from the old, making the tear worse.

No one casts new wine into old wineskins. If they do, the wine will burst the wineskins and the wine and the wineskins will be ruined. But new wine for new wineskins.

As we have already noted, 2.1-3.6 is a collection of controversy narratives; 2.18-22 is the center story with 3.1-6 being the climax of the five accounts. It seems that, for Mark (or at least his source[s]), the context of the story is irrelevant. Indeed, the only genuine connection to the preceding is that they are both food-related, feasting and fasting.  But, as would should expect by now, Mark has placed this story here for a reason/s. The most obvious reason is to identify the source/reason of/for the controversy in the stories: Jesus is doing something new and the old ways of thinking/doing must align with it.

Mark graciously includes for us a background to the story, “the disciples of John and the Pharisees were fasting.” This is similar to the introduction given in 3.1, “One Sabbath Jesus was…” These introductory sentences provide the point of division between Jesus and the religious leaders. The point of intrigue is the identity of “they” in v. 18. Who are “they”? If we take 2.1-3.6 to be a complete source, then it would be the scribes. This is confirmed by the use of the third person.

The scribes put a question to Jesus, “Why is it that the disciples of John and the disciples of the Pharisees are fasting, but your disciples are not fasting?” Fasting was a staple in the piety of the Jewish people.[2] It was practiced in a variety of ways, including as a prayer to God for rain to fall (m. Taanit 1). In Lev 16.29 the Israelites were commanded to observe an annual fast on Yom Kippur; by the time of Zechariah, there were four fasts to be annually observed (Zech 8.19). Other fasts in the OT and other sources in Judaism were performed as a sign of mourning over the deceased (1 Sam 31.13), preparation for divine revelation (Ex 34.28), and as a plea to God to remove calamities (m. Taanit). Later in Jewish thought, fasting was viewed as meritorious, as an act that brought favor upon one’s life.[3] Fasting quickly became the most important element in Pharisaic piety. Some of the Pharisees incorporated a twice-weekly fast (Mon & Thu) in addition to the others (Didache 8.1[4]) to express devotion to God. It was probably this type of fast that is being referenced here.[5]

An interesting point is to be made about the motivations for the two groups to fast. The disciples of John were probably a part of a community similar to the Qumran sect, waiting by the Jordan River for Messiah to come. Their fast was probably primarily eschatological, awaiting the coming of their Redeemer. The Pharisees saw their fast as another aspect of the ascetic holiness that they believed would dawn the eschatological age. This brings a sense of irony into our text, for Jesus is the one who has brought the eschatological Kingdom of God that the Jews have longed for. Or, in the words of Guelich, “What John’s disciples were fasting with view toward, Jesus and his disciples were celebrating, namely, God’s acceptance and forgiveness characteristic of the day of salvation. Joy and celebration rather than grief and mourning marked their lifestyle (cf. Matt 6:16–18; Matt 11:18–19//Luke 7:33–34).”^[6]

Jesus’ response is centered upon the analogy of wedding. “Are the groomsmen able to fast while the bridegroom is with them? As long as they have the bridegroom with them they are unable to fast.” The analogy is veiled yet meaningful. First, it is an analogy to which any audience can relate. There is an obvious answer to the question: No! People do not fast while attending weddings. This is even more so the case in Jewish culture.

Awedding celebration in a Jewish village normally lasted seven days for a virgin bride or three days for a remarried widow. Friends and guests had no responsibility but to enjoy the festivities. There was an abundance of food and wine, as well as song, dance, and fun both in the house and on the street. Even rabbis were expected to desist from Torah instruction and join the celebration with their students. “The guests of the bridegroom” (Gk. hoi huioi tou nymphōnos, “sons of the bridegroom,” a literal Semitism) pictures the gathering of the wedding party, waiting impatiently to eat. Any thought of fasting at such a moment is out of the question!^[7]

What is more interesting, however, is not the sociological meaning of Jesus’ response, but the theological meaning. What does it mean for Jesus to be the bridegroom? Not surprisingly, the bridegroom metaphor is never connected with the messianic figure; instead, it is a common metaphor used for Yahweh.

The images of the groom and wedding express God’s relationship to his people and are often used to allude to messianic times (Isa. 54:5–6; 62:4–5; Jer. 2:2; Ezek. 16; Hos. 2:14–23 [2:16–25 MT]). This end-time association existed in Judaism, and the image was also used by John the Baptist (John 3:29). Interestingly enough, Jesus’ questioners make reference to John’s disciples. Jesus is alluding to the nature of the times and to his own role by this picture. The end has begun to draw near.^[8]

The OT prophets, especially Hosea, speak of Yahweh as Israel’s husband, or bridegroom. Most of the time Israel is depicted as the unfaithful wife (e.g., Jer 3.20; 31.22; Ez 16) whereas Yahweh is depicted as having been faithful to the covenant (Is 25.1; 49.7; Jer 3.12; Hos 2.20). Although Yahweh has grounds for divorce his steadfast love endures forever.

During our study, interest has been invested in Isaianic parallels. This is also the case here. Isaiah 54 speaks of Yahweh is the bridegroom of Israel, coming to bring “redemption” (vv. 5, 8), a metaphor for eschatological salvation reminiscent of the exodus (cf. Ex 15.13).  Israel and her husband Yahweh were separated due to her sins (Is 59.2) but now Yahweh will bring her back forever, never to reject her again (54.9).

Jesus has applied this imagery to himself (or, better, Mark has applied this to Jesus) to suggest that he is the bridegroom of Israel who has come to inaugurate the Age to Come. The bridegroom imagery in the NT is attributed to Jesus (e.g. Eph 5.25ff), but is probably not in view here.

The disciples are called “groomsmen” (lit., “sons of the bridegroom”). It is possible that from this title we should see the disciples as those who now make preparation for the messianic wedding. For now, however, they are to feast with Jesus (2.13-17). For now, fasting is inappropriate, but one day, when Jesus is taken away, fasting will be appropriate. How so?

Fasting is inappropriate for two reasons. (1) It accompanies solemn and distressing circumstances of repentance and confession (1 Kgs 21:27–29; Neh 1:4; Dan 9:30). That is not the mood of [Matt] 8–9. Joyous celebration to honor God’s action is more appropriate (Isa 12:6; 25:9; 29:19). (2) Fasting is inappropriate because that which it seeks—forgiveness and atonement for sin (Dan 9:3; Pss. Sol. 3:6–8; Apoc. El. 1:21), healing, and exorcism (Apoc. El. 1:21)—is now available in Jesus’ ministry. He has evidenced forgiveness, healing, and exorcism in the events of [Matt] 8–9.

Is fasting ever appropriate? The rhetorical question and the statement anticipate a time when the bridegroom is taken away. This is the time for fasting. Jesus will be taken away in his crucifixion. The time between his resurrection and parousia or return in triumph (24:3), the “now” of the gospel’s audience, is a difficult time of bold discipleship (cf. 5:3–12, 13–16, 21–48; 6:1–18, 19–34; 7:1–6, 7–11, 12, 13–23, 24–27). The phrase the days will come signals a time of judgment and distress (Isa 39:6; Jer 7:32; Amos 4:2) in which God’s purposes are established through the line of David (Amos 9:13–15; Jer 23:5; Matt 1:1, 17). In this “in-between” time, fasting is necessary. As a spiritual discipline, it sustains disciples (6:16–18) in an appropriate way of life. God’s chosen fast is to loose the bonds of injustice, to break every yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to feed the hungry, house the homeless, clothe the naked (Isa 58:6–14; Matt 5:3–12; 25:31–46).^[9]

It is inappropriate to fast while the marriage is commencing, but once the separation occurs, fasting is necessary in order to await the final salvation which Jesus has begun.

Jesus, the bridegroom, will be taken away from the disciples, the groomsmen, on “the coming days.” This will lead to the disciples’ practice of fasting “in that day.” Some scholars see an eschatological formula in the two phrases “the days will come” and “in that day.” I tend to agree, but my agreement is primary theological than exegetical. The death and resurrection of Christ is a cosmic, eschatological event that begins the age of salvation. Therefore, I take “taken away” as a reference to the resurrection of Christ.[10] In the eschatological tension (already/not yet).[11]

While the disciples will not fast while Jesus is present with them, they will begin to fast when Jesus is resurrected. Though it is true that fasting could be equated with mourning in NT days, it is doubtful that that is the case here.[12] Instead, the fasting would be centered upon devotion to Christ and his mission, waiting for his return. The Kingdom had come in Jesus, but it will be consummated at his parousia.

Jesus finishes his response with two parables. The first is using the image of clothing. In order to patch an old garment with a hole, one must use a preshrunk cloth which has been processed and combed through. If not, the unshrunk cloth will make the hole worse than it was originally. The second parable uses the image of wine. Wine-skins were leather bottle-type containers that were pliable and soft, but after time would become old, shriveled, and brittle. If one were to pour (or “cast”) new wine into an old, brittle wineskin, the wine would burst the skin, ruining both the wine and the skin.

The parables are placed together to emphasize the contrast of Jesus’ new work with the old systems in place. In relation to John the Baptist, it is clear from the prologue that his ministry and focus would be soon overshadowed by the ministry of Jesus, for John was just a forerunner, the second appearance of Elijah (Mal 4.5-6). The wait for the Messiah was over; the eschatological age had dawned in Jesus. In relation to the Pharisees, Jesus is at times seemingly antithetical to the sect in theology and practice. Jesus does not “fit” into the messianic and eschatological presuppositional framework of the Pharisees. To fit him into the mold would be to pour new wine in old skins.

Both of these parables speak of the destructive consequences of trying to mix old and new…Similarly, the eschatological newness of Jesus’ mission cannot be contained within the old structures of Judaism; if one tries to do so, the consequences will be disastrous for both.

This basic point about the incompatibility between the new and the old orders and the necessity of preserving, undiluted by comprise with the structures of the old age, the eschatological power that has broken into the world in Jesus’ advent, is summed up by the battle cry that ends the passage: “New wine into new wineskins!” This slogan was probably especially important to the Markan community, which was conscious of the singularity of its claim that, despite consisting largely of Gentiles, it was the true Israel.[13]

Indeed, Jesus was doing a new thing; he was creating a new people marked out by a new covenant centered upon the cross and resurrection.

And [Jesus] came out again along the sea. And the entire crowd came to him, and he was teaching them. And moving along he saw Levi of Alphaeus sitting at the tax collector’s booth. And he said to him, “Follow me.” And standing up he followed him.

And Jesus was dining in Levi’s house and many tax collectors and sinners were dining with him and his disciples, for there were many who followed him. And the scribes of the Pharisees saw that he was eating with the sinners and tax collectors and they asked his disciples, “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?!” And on hearing this Jesus said to them, “Those who are well do not have need for a doctor, but the sickly ones have need. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”

Many scholars see this section as a composite story of a calling narrative (13-14) and a controversy narrative (15-17).[1] Mark has probably edited his material to fit into the current theme of progressing animosity toward Jesus (see notes on 2.1-12) and included the calling story of Levi to bridge the gap between the two.

Jesus is said to “come out of/from” (εξηλθεν) to the sea, bringing back images of new exodus. This language is combined with the image of “sea.” The combination of terms is explicit new exodus language. One example can be seen in Isaiah 42.10-13, a passage which speaks of the victory of Yahweh over his enemies in the context of messianic redemption and liberation (vv. 6-7):

    ¹⁰ Sing to the LORD a new song, 
       his praise from the ends of the earth, 
       you who go down to the sea, and all that is in it, 
       you islands, and all who live in them.

    ¹¹ Let the wilderness and its towns raise their voices; 
       let the settlements where Kedar lives rejoice. 
       Let the people of Sela sing for joy; 
       let them shout from the mountaintops.

    ¹² Let them give glory to the LORD 
       and proclaim his praise in the islands.

    ¹³ The LORD will march out like a champion, 
       like a warrior he will stir up his zeal; 
       with a shout he will raise the battle cry 
       and will triumph over his enemies.

Jesus has come out to deliver his people from exile. The kind of people he has come to call out of their sins is the subject of this section and reveals much about the nature of Jesus’ ministry and the true nature of the Pharisees and scribes.  The adverb παλιν echoes back to the call story of 1.16-20, where Jesus calls the original four disciples. This seems to imply that Jesus has come to the sea to initiate the new exodus, which one can join, no matter their status, by following (ακολουθεω appears twice in this passage) Jesus.

Again we see the crowds following after Jesus, the Healer. It is his healing ministry which has attracted so many people, sometimes creating problems for Jesus’ teaching ministry (1. 35-39). This is not the case in our passage, however. The “entire crowd” comes to Jesus and he taught them. The content of his teaching is again neglected as Mark has no intention of discussing the subject. Instead, Mark is focused on the effects of Jesus’ actions. Even so, we can speculate that the message of Jesus’ teaching was the in-breaking of the Kingdom of God, repentance, and faith (see 1.14-15, Mark’s summary of Jesus’ kerygma).

V. 13 functions primarily as a transitional sentence, transitioning to another controversy passage within 2.1-3.6.

Jesus moves along (from his position of teaching) to see Levi, the son of Alphaeus. Here we have a textual issue. It is usually assumed that Levi=Matthew in Matthew’s account of this story (9.9-13). But in a couple of manuscripts Levi (Λευι) is changed to Jacob/James (Ιακωβον). This is due to the fact in 3.18, James the son of Alphaeus appears in the list of the Twelve, not Levi the son of Alphaeus, although a Matthew is listed.[2] The problem is easily solved with three observations: 1) to be called to “follow” Jesus does not necessarily mean it was to be a part of the Twelve; 2) it was common for people to have two names, one being a sort of nickname (e.g. Matthew=Levi,[3] Peter=Cephas [Rock], Thomas=Didymus [Twin]); and, most importantly, 3) Mark does not seem to be concerned with the identity of Levi at all, but rather, what type of person Levi is, namely, a tax collector.[4]

Levi is seen by Jesus at his tax collector’s booth, or more accurately, toll booth (τελωνιον).

A crucial point to mention is that a τελωνιον is not a “publican” – he did not collect income tax or poll taxes, nor was he likely involved in census activities. Rather, he was some sort of customs official placed at bridges, canals, and on state roads, or a tax farmer collecting farms in the region. Such persons were Jews, and were especially despised and considered traitors by their fellow Jews, because not merely were they associated with Gentiles but in fact often worked for them – helping to collect funds for the Roman oppressors. In the Talmud such tax collectors were lumped together with murderers and thieves.[5]

The impact of Jesus’ call of Levi is heightened by viewing tax collectors in their historical context. During the intertestamental period relations between Jews and gentiles were at the height of tension. The story of the Maccabean Revolt (2^nd century BCE) (and the later Jewish War [at the time of Mark’s writing – 66-73 CE]) would still be fresh among the Jewish people’s minds (and Mark’s readers), particularly sectarian and “zealous” sects, like the Pharisees. A clear example of this type of behavior is the Apostle Paul, who considered himself a zealot and a Pharisee.[6] Zealots, like Paul, would judge not only gentiles, but also fellow Jews who were not as “zealous” about the Law and sectarian tradition. Therefore, though Levi was a Jew by birth, he was counted as a gentile sinner.

Tax collectors were well known for their unethical behavior. For starters, men would bid to become a tax collector for imported goods in their area. Then, to make profit, the collectors would exact more than the common person would owe for their taxes. The Roman government overlooked this malpractice as long as they got their due share. Therefore, collectors were often very wealthy persons, sacrificing integrity and character for cash. One example of the wealth of the collectors is from Josephus, the famous Jewish historian:

Josephus (War 2.285-88) records a story in which the Jews of Caesarea called on a tax collector named John to intercede for them with Florus, prefect of Judea from AD 64 to 66. John was able to produce a bribe for Florus amounting to some eight talents of silver (= over $40,000), which illustrates the power and wealth some tax collectors possessed.[7]

Because of the extortion and other immorality associate with tax collectors, a home was considered ceremonially unclean if a tax collector entered. The loathing of tax collectors is sure to enhance our interpretation of this story. Jesus’ choice of disciples is not based upon the following of the Law, but on his grace.

Jesus’ call to Levi is simple (“Follow me”), yet effective (and…he followed him). Mark is painting a portrait of discipleship as an instantaneous abandonment of one’s lifestyle (repentance?), including occupation and family, to the point that the only thing that gives meaning to a person’s life is following Jesus.  

After the call of Levi, we are transported to the house of Levi, where he is hosting a party. Why a party? Why invite Jesus? It was common for people to throw parties/dinners for major events in one’s life, like the decision to become a disciple of a teacher like Jesus. Mark describes Jesus κατακεισθαι (reclining/dining) with “him” in “his” house.[8]  Though translated “dining” in our translation above, the verb is literally, “reclining at table” or something to that effect. Though this was common eating practice at the time, that Levi had lounge chairs (assumedly) would be a testimony to his wealth.

Jesus and Levi were not alone at this party (obviously). They were accompanied by other tax collectors and sinners, probably Levi’s friends and associates. The phrase “tax collectors and sinners” is interesting. According to their unethical business tactics, weren’t tax collectors also sinners? Yes. Explanation of the term is that it was probably a fixed term used to describe a particular type of person. It could also be a hendiadys,[9] though this is doubtful because of the context. In agreement with Joel Marcus, I see the phrase as speaking of tax collectors and other sinners.[10]

The word “sinners” must also be qualified. Sinners were probably those who were constant violators of Torah. Jesus was not only associating with tax collectors, essentially Jewish traitors, but also with those who cared nothing of the sacred Law of God. Some scholars connect “sinners” with the “wicked” of the Psalms, because LXX translates the Hebrew word as “sinners.” An example of the “wicked” can be found in Ps 10. This Psalm is an imprecation for the “wicked” to be judged by Yahweh. Indeed, the “wicked” are oppressing the people of God and will be judged by him. The imprecation climaxes in v. 15: “Break the arms of the wicked and the evildoers; call them into account for their wickedness would not otherwise be found out.” The early Jewish portrait of the “wicked/sinners” is extremely negative. Therefore, Jesus’ association with these sinners would be shocking to the Pharisees, for, according to the Psalms, the sinners were the object of divine wrath.

The presence of Jesus at such a party would simply be astonishing in the eyes of the Pharisees, who were famously sectarian. This is compounded by the fact that not only was Jesus present at the party, but he was sharing the table with them. “As was true normally in the ancient Near East, to have a fellowship meal with people, to recline at table with them, implied that you accepted them in your company.”[11]

In the Dead Sea Scrolls, there is a fragment that describes a liturgical communal meal referred to as the Messianic Banquet.[12] At this meal the Qumran sect would share in a loaf of bread and wine. The priest would break the bread in hopes that one day the Messiah would meet with them to partake in the meal. An interesting departure from the character of our story is that people like “tax collectors and sinners” were forbidden to partake in the communal meal. Those who were sick, blind, etc. were not allowed to participate. Only “men of reputation” (1 QSa 2.11), those who were well known and respected in the community, were able to attend.[13]

At the feast celebrating Levi’s discipleship, the sinners were not excluded but accepted as they were. The Messiah had come to dine with his people, but unfortunately for the Pharisees, they were not his people. It is clear that Jesus was not a sectarian, but had come to fulfill his role as Yahweh’s Servant (Is 42.6-7):

I, the LORD, have called you in righteousness; 
I will take hold of your hand. 
I will keep you and will make you 
to be a covenant for the people 
and a light for the Gentiles,

to open eyes that are blind, 
to free captives from prison 
and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness.

The phrase “for there were many who followed him” suggests that other sinners like Levi had decided to follow Jesus. These were probably those invited to celebrate at Levi’s home. πολλοι (many) also re-emphasizes the new exodus/eschatological nature of Jesus’ ministry.

The “scribes[14] of the Pharisees” saw Jesus eating with the sinners. These were highly educated in Torah and zealous for the keeping of boundary markers such as Sabbath, purity laws, circumcision, festivals, etc. Their main objective was holiness manifested through separation. As it relates to communal meals, “the stricter Pharisees, or haberim, especially seem to have seen very strict table fellowship rules as essential to renewed holiness among God’s people.”[15]

With this in mind, again, we should see the actions of Jesus as shocking to the onlooking Pharisees. This is shown by the question posed to Jesus’ disciples, “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” The syntax of the question is difficult, but probably has a sense of exclamation to it.[16]

Jesus heard the question from the scribes and answered with a common proverb and a direct explanation of the nature of his ministry. “Those who are well do not have need for a doctor, but the sickly ones have need” was a common phrase in Greek thought.

Plutarch quotes the exiled Spartan king Pausanias as using a similar image to v. 17a when he was asked why he had left Sparta for Tegea despite his good opinion of Spartans: “It is not the custom of doctors to spend their time with the healthy, but where people were ill.[17]

Jesus uses this common proverb to explain his controversial association with sinners. It’s clear that Jesus saw the primary problem of humanity was sin and he was the doctor who could heal it.[18] Jesus, unlike the Pharisees, was not fearful of being contaminated (or becoming ceremonially unclean) by sinners. Instead,

holiness rather than sin turns out to be contagious…Jesus is not defiled by his contact with impurity but instead vanquishes it through the eschatological power active in him. Our passage, then, ascribes to Jesus the same sort of divine authority that was evident in 2:1-12, for it implies that he is not one who is susceptible to sin’s infection but the doctor who heals it, and in so doing it transfers to him an image used for God in the Old Testament and later Judaism.[19]

Marcus is referring specifically to Ex 15.26 where Yahweh explicitly claims to be the healer of Israel. Another passage he cites is from Philo, who describes God as “the only doctor for the sicknesses of the soul.”[20]

An immediate question is raised: are the Pharisees not in “need” of Jesus to heal them of their sins? As with all metaphors this one can be pushed to the point of breaking down. The point is not that the Pharisees did not need to experience spiritual healing, but that Jesus’ ministry was focused on the outcasts of Jewish (and Roman) society, not the so-called healthy/righteous.

The second half of Jesus’ response is a clarification and addition to the proverb: “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” Jesus has defined the sickness that plagues humanity as sin. Indeed, people are sinners in need of Jesus’ calling and healing. “Calling” (καλεω) in Paul is soteriological in nature and Mark may be borrowing the language to make a point. Jesus did not come to call those who thought they could achieve righteousness apart from faith in Jesus; he came to save those who were outcast. This reveals the nature of grace. “Jesus’ ministry is not to those who consider themselves to be righteous, not to the healthy, but to the sick, to those who know their unrighteousness and their need for God’s help.”[21]  Marcus also points out a parallel to the Prayer of Manasseh, and early Jewish pietistic passage: “You did not appoint grace for the righteous, but you appoin