War of Words: Sennacherib vs. Yahweh

For Old Testament, we students reflect weekly on “some topic, aspect or concept” from the volumes and volumes of assigned reading. I am limited to one single-spaced page each week, and in every case I’ve been forced to cut myself off from writing. So read knowing that my thoughts are manifold!

If you are interested in more selections from my School of Theology Coursework, follow the link to the category of SOT Coursework. I have also set up a new category for these Old Testament reflection papers called OT Weeklies. If all goes well, each new reflection paper will be posted automatically at 2:00 p.m. each Monday, when my Old Testament class convenes.

What follows is my reflection paper from the week of December 13. Enjoy!

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To take advantage of the plethora of idle time spent traveling from Indianapolis to Anderson (and back) each weekday, I have listened to a public library edition of our assigned biblical readings on compact discs for the last two weeks. During this time, no passage has been narrated quite as powerfully as 2 Kings 18-20, wherein Sennacherib of Assyria, through his field commander the Rabshakeh, and Yahweh, through Isaiah, engage in a grandiose war of words. Their back-and-forth taunts and jabs touch on a number of topics: the awesome destructive power of the Assyrian army—and, especially, the gods it has overrun—the doom that awaits a rebellious and weakened Jerusalem, and the bodily by-products its citizenry will be left to consume, followed by Yahweh’s preordination of events and his response to the chest-beating “rage” and “insolence” of Sennacherib (2 Kgs 19:28 NIV). But upon further study, the true beauty of these accounts lies not in their narration, but their deeper exegetical analysis.

To be sure, scholars are befuddled by a number of questions that have arisen from investigating the chapters at hand. For example, it is likely that some liberty has been taken with the timeline of the pericope,[1] and the ebb and flow of messengers and their orations may actually be a marriage of multiple textual traditions.[2] While these problems are decidedly beyond the scope of this reflection paper, it is unavoidable that the Rabshakeh’s speech makes no sense in the context of the passages that immediately precede it, wherein Hezekiah won Sennacherib’s withdrawal from Lachish for an unfathomable sum of, literally, tons of gold and silver (2 Kgs 18:13-16). Miano asks, “Why would Sennacherib send his officials to demand unconditional surrender immediately after Hezekiah made peace with him by way of a substantial tribute?”[3]

That question cannot be sufficiently answered without the escape of an incomplete redaction. Such a conclusion might also add perspective to the narrative’s transition from a broad introductory statement about the fourteenth year of Hezekiah to an inordinate focus on individual speeches. Of this “disproportionate” use of direct address, Fewell notes, “Not only do the character’s speeches contain information crucial to the story, but also the tones of the speeches communicate certain dynamics that could not have been captured by straight narration.”[4] In this light, the Rabshakeh’s comments are nothing short of brilliant, serving to demoralize, humiliate and pierce the people of Jerusalem to the point of capitulation. Indeed, Eliakim, Shebna and Joah deliver the message to Hezekiah with torn clothes, as a sign of extreme sadness or mourning, and Hezekiah describes it to Isaiah as “a day of distress and rebuke and disgrace” (2 Kgs 19:3 NIV).

But perhaps these chapters are constructed in this manner to demonstrate the fallacy of taunting Yahweh, who comes to display his authority and supremacy over Sennacherib. Whereas the Rabshakeh contends that Yahweh is on the side of Assyria (2 Kgs 18:25), the prophecy of Isaiah mirrors and reflects the taunts lobbed against both Yahweh and his people. Yahweh appears to be against anyone who proudly proclaims that they have personally accomplished this or that (2 Kgs 19:23-28; Dt 8:10-20), and therefore “becomes the taunter, the threatener, the punisher and the destroyer.”[5] As Isaiah writes, “Assyria will fall by a sword that is not of man; a sword, not of mortals, will devour them. . . . at sight of the battle standard their commanders will panic” (Is 31:8-9 NIV). Apparently, the Rabshakeh’s ability to craft his message with harsh and prideful language is ultimately the undoing of Assyria, which begs the question: Did Babylon learn a lesson from the Rabshakeh and refrain from taunting Yahweh more than a century later?


[1] David Miano, “What Happened in the Fourteenth Year of Hezekiah?” in Milk and Honey: Essays on Ancient Israel and the Bible, ed. Sarah Malena and David Miano (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 113.

[2] Ibid., 114-122.

[3] Ibid., 119.

[4] Danna Nolan Fewell, “Sennacherib’s Defeat: Words at War in 2 Kings 18.13-19.37,” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 34 (Fall 1986), 80.

[5] Ibid., 82.

Heresy or Reasonable Theology? The Ebionites: Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You are reading Part 4 of a term paper for my Church History class. And what fun it was to write! If you like learning and reading about heresy, you might enjoy it as well. If new and different perspectives turn you off, then I don’t imagine continuing to read this will be much fun. :)

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IV.  Personal Reflections

As much as such restraint is humanly possible, I have striven to reserve any personal opinions about the Ebionites and those beliefs attributed to them by church fathers from the preceding sections of this essay. On the other hand, in no way do I claim that this section of the exposition will retain a sense of objectivity. For one, I firmly agree that “there is nothing wrong in a natural scholarly sympathy for minority groups that were not destined to be history’s winners.”[1] Rather than existing solely as an interesting factoid in the annals of Christian history, the Ebionites and similar groups labeled as heretics from an early date deserve a voice and a chance to be judged on their merits. Personally, with the extraordinarily limited way in which Jesus was revealed to the world, I furthermore believe that the Ebionites deserve to be praised for their audacity to dissent and to be pardoned for their beliefs, even if they do not align to God’s ultimate, absolute truths. It seems that the Ebionites placed a premium on being intentionally poor as a method to adhering to both Jewish Law and Jesus’ message; this action likely developed more intentional, loving communities in spite of the heresiological claims of early church fathers.

Moreover, today’s Christians must admit that proto-orthodox scribes and proponents had a hand in altering Scripture to suit their beliefs, much as was ascribed to Ebionites and Marcionites. In the aforementioned example regarding the voice from heaven at Jesus’ birth, the Lukan text was eventually changed from “today I have begotten you” to the Markan counterpart of “in whom I am well pleased.”[2] While the Ebionite belief about following Jewish Law may have been a matter of opinion, the adoption of Jesus at baptism was well supported by the original version of Luke, part of which made its way into the Ebionite Gospel. However, once this change was solidified, it was also used to call out heresy among so-called Roman “adoptionists,” who were eventually excommunicated from the church.[3]

Throughout the course of my study of the Ebionites, I continued to find myself increasingly sympathetic toward their points of view. For example, I have always recognized the significance of Paul as a normative and formative writer for the early Christian church. Unfortunately, the ferocity with which he made his claims left little room for nonconformist opinions, serving not only to squelch the perspectives of those who could have been more authentically Christian, but also encouraging equally ferocious and self-serving Deutero-Pauline material, which included unfortunate admonitions about the roles of slaves and women (1 Tm 2:11-15). Additionally, it is inescapable that Paul had no direct, personal knowledge of Jesus. Therefore, I recognize Paul as a commentator on the life of Jesus best viewed on a level playing field with similar writers, his Damascus Road event notwithstanding. In a sense, this viewpoint makes me an Ebionite; furthermore, I am sympathetic to the reasoning behind Ebionite adherence to Jewish Law.

V.  Conclusion

The Ebionites were always a minority group. Perhaps at one point or another they became enough of a minority group—either by their number of followers or by possessing such threatening theology—to encourage early church fathers to write about and denounce their beliefs, but let’s be honest: the Ebionites never had a chance at flourishing as a majority religion. In proclaiming his kingdom message, what Jesus may have intended as a defiant but peaceful Jewish revival eventually became the majority religion of the world, including its most powerful nations. And these empires—whether Roman or American—were never bound to adopt intentional Ebionite poverty and strict adherence to Jewish Law on a large scale. “Had Ebionite Christianity ‘won’ the internal battles for dominance, Christianity itself would probably have ended up as a footnote in the history of religion books used in university courses.”[4] While it feels good to be in power, perhaps Judaism and Christianity alike are better suited as marginalized, minority, mustard-seed-like movements taking over individual patches of land at a time rather than occupying the ivory towers of official (or unofficial) state religion.

Theissen writes, “As a renewal movement within Judaism, the Jesus movement was a failure.”[5] In their own battle for acceptance and survival, the Ebionites also failed. In that sense, Jesus was an Ebionite, too.


[1] Skarsaune, “The History of Jewish Believers,” in Skarsaune and Hvalvik, 754.

[2] Ehrman, Lost Christianities, 223.

[3] Ibid., 253.

[4] Ehrman, Lost Christianities, 110.

[5] Gerd Theissen, The First Followers of Jesus: A Sociological Analysis of the Earliest Christianity, trans. John Bowden (London: SCM Press, Ltd., 1978), 112.

History as Lesson in the Books of Kings

For Old Testament, we students reflect weekly on “some topic, aspect or concept” from the volumes and volumes of assigned reading. I am limited to one single-spaced page each week, and in every case I’ve been forced to cut myself off from writing. So read knowing that my thoughts are manifold!

If you are interested in more selections from my School of Theology Coursework, follow the link to the category of SOT Coursework. I have also set up a new category for these Old Testament reflection papers called OT Weeklies. If all goes well, each new reflection paper will be posted automatically at 2:00 p.m. each Monday, when my Old Testament class convenes.

What follows is my reflection paper from the week of December 6. Enjoy!

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As we begin to conclude this semester’s brisk survey of the Old Testament from Genesis to the fall of the divided kingdoms, I have gained a deeper appreciation of the narrative that Jesus understood. Throughout this study, I have learned to draw more intentionally from the Hebrew Scriptures to comprehend Jesus’ place in the history of Israel, a process sure to continue into the semester to come. But these books are not just a grand prologue to Jesus’ ministry; rather, they are an elaborate history of Yahweh and his revelation to a chosen people who so often failed to worship him authentically and exclusively. While they may be stepping-stones to Jesus, it is important for the modern church to realize that these Scriptures are also preserved for purposes far greater than the trampling of our feet during the walk of faith. It is from this perspective that I look to the book of 2 Kings—writings chiefly concerned with the demise of Israel and Judah and their latter leaders—for three ever-significant theological themes.

2 Kings 4 profiles Elisha’s relationship with a “well-to-do woman” of Shunem (2 Kgs 4:8 NIV), to whom he prophesies that a son will be born almost as a gift in exchange for her hospitality. Some years later the son died after experiencing head pains, and the unnamed woman wishes to plead for help from Elisha. The Shunammite’s husband questions her immediacy, saying, “Why go to him today? . . . It’s not the New Moon or the Sabbath” (2 Kgs 4:23 NIV). This man seems rooted in a perspective that also plagues modern believers, namely that our accessibility to God is somehow heightened on Sundays and while sitting in church pews. Knowing that Elisha and Yahweh would be available any day of the week, the Shunammite woman possesses a deeper understanding of this divine truth that we should also not forsake.

Naaman, a Syrian army official of Aram, was granted success from Yahweh and “was a valiant soldier, but he had leprosy” (2 Kgs 5:1 NIV). Seeking a cure to his skin disease, Naaman eventually found himself at the doorstep to Elisha’s abode. Elisha’s messenger gave apparently unfavorable advice, as Naaman would say, “I though that he would surely come out to me and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, wave his hand over the spot and cure me of my leprosy” (2 Kgs 5:11 NIV). Naaman found as many who lift prayers and requests to God often do: sometimes the answers we receive are not the answers we want to hear. But even in a round-about way, God’s wisdom prevails; the simple cleansing procedure cured Naaman’s leprous skin.

In the following chapter, a woman approaches King Jehoram of Israel with a heart-breaking story about a hungry acquaintance whose persuasion drove her to cannibalism, an act that was not reciprocated with the sacrifice of the persuasive woman’s son (2 Kgs 6:26-33). Jehoram offers no resolution to the woman’s plea. In effect, the pericope “honors a prophet and assesses a king while ignoring or condemning the desperate situation of two women and their children.”[1] Jehoram, bent on blaming Yahweh—and, by association, his leading prophet—reacts by calling for Elisha’s head. The shocking story is an unfortunate example that some will reject God at every available opportunity, often blaming him and his followers for their problems.

These three theologically insightful themes demonstrate that 2 Kings is more than simple, skip-able historical account of the royal houses of Israel and Judah. Instead, the text is certainly “alive” and worthy of study by modern Christians on its own merits. While believers most often find themselves concerned with the gospels and Pauline epistles, as disciples we should take heart that Jesus himself found inspiration from 1 and 2 Kings, even to the point of inciting a riot at the Nazarene synagogue over comparisons to the works of Elijah and Elisha (Lk 4:24-30). Indeed, the good news—the εὐαγγέλιον—of the books of Kings warrants preaching today. Those who withhold such knowledge are like the lepers of 2 Kings 7, who lamented, “We’re not doing right. This is a day of good news and we are keeping it to ourselves” (2 Kgs 7:9 NIV).


[1] Gina Hens-Piazza, “Forms of Violence and the Violence of Forms: Two Cannibal Mothers Before a King,” Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion 14, no. 2 (Fall 1998), 91-104.

Heresy or Reasonable Theology? The Ebionites: Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You are reading Part 3 of a term paper for my Church History class. And what fun it was to write! If you like learning and reading about heresy, you might enjoy it as well. If new and different perspectives turn you off, then I don’t imagine continuing to read this will be much fun. :)

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III(b).  The Ebionites: Beliefs

This essay will regard the remainder of Ebionite beliefs chronologically by their first instance of attestation by early church fathers. Accordingly, I will first consider those beliefs and practices described by Iraneus, a bishop of Lyons from 177 CE until his death around 202 CE.  Writing around the beginning of his term as bishop, Iraneus correctly identified the most significant of Ebionite beliefs as their insistence that Jesus was conceived through intercourse between Joseph and Mary, and therefore not born as God’s son via the virginal Madonna.[1] However, Ebionites continued to hold that Jesus was God’s adopted son, elevating Jesus’ immersion by John the Baptist as an event of primary significance. Indeed, “at his baptism, God’s Spirit descended upon Jesus, making him the Messiah,” a title for which he was eligible given his Davidic ancestry.[2] For the Ebionites, Jesus’ life of unparalleled observance toward Mosaic Law served to further solidify his Messianic identity; because of this, Ebionites required that followers—even those of Gentile background, who were accepted into the Ebionite community—continue to observe all aspects of the Law.[3] This point of contention served to sever Ebionites completely from the theology of Paul, who did not continue to require circumcision and Law observance among Gentiles.

It is also important to note that Iraneus’ Ebionites accepted no concept of Jesus’ preexistence with God, as the prologue of John’s gospel insists.[4] As a group, they were “strict Jewish monotheists”[5]—there could be no god besides Yahweh, even within the construct of the Trinity, which had yet to develop significantly. In accordance, Ebionites rejected the divinity of Jesus, but accepted his bodily resurrection as God’s “chosen one,” or Messiah.[6] Ebionites furthermore claimed that the great prophet and Israelite leader Moses prophesied about Jesus, and that just as Moses was a teacher to all Israel, Jesus’ teachings demanded broad application by both Jews and Gentiles.[7]

According to Iraneus, Ebionites maintained a special reverence for water, a development that undoubtedly traced its roots to their beliefs regarding Jesus’ baptism. Not only was water the original element in God’s creation, but in his ministry, “Jesus substituted it for the sacrificial fire which the high priest had formerly kindled for the atonement of sins.”[8] In other words, the sacrament of baptism removed the necessity to sacrifice animals to God—no longer through blood, but only through the water, could a believer’s sins be negated. In fact, though the Ebionites practiced the Lord’s Supper, their communities insisted that the cup of wine be replaced with water.[9]

Though his accounts depended largely on Iraneus, the early church writer Origen (185-254 CE) was the next to write about the Ebionites with seemingly fresh information. As already noted, Origen knew enough Hebrew to understand the true meaning of ebionim, and used this to chide the Ebionites for their heresy. However, Origen upheld most of Iraneus’ understanding about the sect, with one significant difference: Origen knew of some Ebionites who accepted that Jesus was born of a virgin, but did not agree that this was a divine birth.[10] For these Ebionites, the adoption event at baptism retained its primary significance. Origen furthermore contributed to the knowledge about the Ebionites by claiming that they continued to celebrate the Passover, were especially observant of laws about clean and unclean foods, and that they accused Paul of unspecified “shameful words.”[11]

Eusebius, the bishop of Caesarea who lived from approximately 263-339 CE, was the next church father to devote heresiological efforts to the Ebionites. Eusebius continued Origen’s thematic puns about the nature of Ebionite poverty, claiming that they held “poor and mean opinions concerning Christ.”[12] Additionally, Eusebius was one of the first writers to pinpoint a place for Ebionite groups; he said that Ebionites lived in Choba (modern-day northern Kenya), but it is likely that Eusebius is referring to a group of Jewish Christians in general.[13] His only other contribution of significance about Ebionites is that apparently some groups celebrated the Lord’s Day in addition to observing the Sabbath.[14] Though Eusebius does not expound on this claim, he could be referring to practices among different Ebionite groups; alternatively, it is suggested that Sunday would not necessarily have been a second day of rest[15], but rather merely a day to meet for optional worship.

A fourth significant writer opposing the Ebionites was the infamous heresy-hunter Epiphanius (ca. 320-403 CE), a bishop of Salamis. Though Epiphanius wrote extensively on the Ebionites and other heretical groups, most scholars have ultimately concluded that he is the least reliable of our four primary sources given that he presents a “very mixed composite of every scrap of literary information [he] thought he could ascribe to them.”[16] It seems that Epiphanius used this same format for contesting other sects, even to the extent of fabricating a pseudepigraphal writing he attributed to a group called the Phibionites.[17] Epiphanius was furthermore the heresiological Ebionite writer most concerned with “Ebion,” the fictional founder of Ebionite theology. Epiphanius claimed that Ebion was originally a Samaritan and reported an extensive record of his travels, including supposed contact with other heretical sect founders.[18] Even with his extraordinary level of bias in mind, it seems that some of Epiphanius’ content accurately portrays the Ebionites. Among these are suggestions that some Ebionites maintained a vegetarian diet, even to the extent of changing John the Baptist’s diet from “locusts and wild honey” to “pancakes and wild honey,” a difference of just a few letters in the Greek (άκρίδες vs. έγκρίδες).[19] This avoidance of meat is attested elsewhere by some Ebionites’ queasiness with regard to human and animal blood.[20]

A significant amount of Epiphanius’ claims regarding the Ebionites, however, appear to be fabrications or associative attributions to the Ebionites of material unique to other groups. For example, Epiphanius credits Ebionites with widely divergent views about Christ—to some, Jesus was Adam reincarnate; for others, Christ reappeared several times throughout history, including to Abraham.[21] Epiphanius also suggests that Ebionites “detest” all of the prophets and adhere to extraordinarily strict purity codes with regard to sexual intercourse.[22] Most scholars recognize Epiphanius’ accounts about the Ebionites and other heretical groups to be unreliable. That information that he did not fabricate was probably not learned directly, but instead through other literature. Rather, “At no point is there any certain evidence that Epiphanius’ knowledge is based on firsthand, personal contact with Ebionites who called themselves by this name.”[23]

What can we conclude about the Ebionites from the disjointed portrait given by the obviously biased church fathers? From the variety in claims and repudiations over the course of approximately two-and-a-half centuries emerges two signature categories of Ebionite beliefs: those about (1) the identity of Jesus, and (2) the level of required adherence to Jewish Law. First, the Davidic ancestry of Jesus is of the utmost importance; because of it, Jesus fulfills the major Messianic prerequisite. But if Jesus is from David’s seed—and not conceived of God in Mary through the Holy Spirit—Jesus does not by definition possess divine equality with God. It is only through the adoption of Jesus at his baptism that Jesus is begotten as God’s son, and his identity as the Messiah is solidified through his perfect observance of Jewish Law. The second chief belief of the Ebionites stems from the first: inasmuch as Jesus observed the Law, so too must his followers, in seeking to emulate their master, also continue to follow the Law.[24] Interestingly enough, this insistence could be one of the rare instances that Ebionite belief about Jesus was informed by their understanding of Scripture, as Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount that “not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law” (Mt 5:18 NIV). In any case, this belief provides the proverbial breaking point from the theology of Paul, who would not require that his followers adhere to the Law.


[1] Skarsaune, “The Ebionites,” in Skarsaune and Hvalvik, 429.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid., 439.

[4] Ehrman, Lost Christianities, 100.

[5] Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted: Revealing the Hidden Contradictions in the Bible (and Why We Don’t Know About Them) (New York: HarperOne, 2009), 193.

[6] Schoeps, 59-60.

[7] Ibid., 67.

[8] Schoeps, 105.

[9] Ibid., 62.

[10] Skarsaune, “The Ebionites,” in Skarsaune and Hvalvik, 444.

[11] Ibid., 441-442.

[12] Eusebius, as quoted in Skarsaune, “The Ebionites,” in Skarsaune and Hvalvik, 445.

[13] Skarsaune, “The Ebionites,” in Skarsaune and Hvalvik, 447.

[14] Ibid., 446.

[15] Ibid.

[16] Skarsaune, “The History of Jewish Believers in the Early Centuries—Perspectives and Framework,” in Skarsaune and Hvalvik, 754.

[17] Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 117. Ehrman includes a graphic account of the creatively devised story, in which “Jesus takes Mary up to a high mountain and in her presence pulls a woman out of his side (much as God made Eve from the rib of Adam) and begins having sexual intercourse with her. When he comes to climax, however, he pulls out of her, collects his semen in his hand, and eats it, telling Mary, ‘Thus must we do, to live.’ Mary, understandably enough, faints on the spot (Epiphanius, The Panarion, book 26).”

[18] Skarsaune, “The Ebionites,” in Skarsaune and Hvalvik, 451-452.

[19] Ehrman, Lost Christianities, 103.

[20] Schoeps, 99.

[21] Luomanen, “Ebionites and Nazarenes,” in Jackson-McCabe, 87.

[22] Ibid.

[23] Skarsaune, “The Ebionites,” in Skarsaune and Hvalvik, 461.

[24] Skarsaune, “The Ebionites,” in Skarsaune and Hvalvik, 434.

The “New” Elijah: Jesus or John the Baptist?

For Old Testament, we students reflect weekly on “some topic, aspect or concept” from the volumes and volumes of assigned reading. I am limited to one single-spaced page each week, and in every case I’ve been forced to cut myself off from writing. So read knowing that my thoughts are manifold!

If you are interested in more selections from my School of Theology Coursework, follow the link to the category of SOT Coursework. I have also set up a new category for these Old Testament reflection papers called OT Weeklies. If all goes well, each new reflection paper will be posted automatically at 2:00 p.m. each Monday, when my Old Testament class convenes.

What follows is my reflection paper from the week of November 29. Enjoy!

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For a biblical character so significant and beloved, Elijah first appears on the scene rather inconspicuously. The author does not provide any background information on the Tishbite; instead, it is enough to present him as the major prophet who will rebuke Ahab, Jezebel, and eventually, the Baals. Elijah’s minor meteorology prophecy to open 1 Kings 17 foreshadows both the miraculous events that occur later in his career and the monsoon of allusions to him that saturate the four canonical gospel accounts. To properly contextualize the 27 explicit gospel references to Elijah, however,[1] the Christian reader must be alerted to the ending of Malachi and the Old Testament, wherein the day of the Lord is prognosticated. Within a lengthy discourse, Yahweh explains, “See, I will send you the prophet Elijah before that great and dreadful day of the Lord comes” (Mal 4:5 NIV). Failure to accept this Elijah—who was initially expected to be the Tishbite prophet himself rather than a new incarnation[2]—would result in a curse upon the land (Mal 4:6). This begs several questions: Did Elijah return, and if so, in the person of whom?

If we accept the overwhelming volume of New Testament references to Elijah as an indication that he did return from heaven, it is prudent to first consider John the Baptist as the new Elijah. Both John and Elijah were said to have dressed in clothing made of animal hair, with leather belts around their waists (2 Kgs 1:8; Mk 1:6). While this does not seem all that unique given the lack of Ralph Lauren and Express for Men in biblical times, consider that the Greek terminology for “leather belt” in Mark—σώνην δερματίνην—is used in the Septuagint only to describe the clothing of Elijah.[3] But even more than attire, Mark’s introductory description of John the Baptist may be another clue. In opening his gospel by quoting Malachi, the Markan writer reiterates that an ἄγγελος will prepare the Messiah’s way. While both Mark and Matthew overwhelmingly use ἄγγελος to refer to a heavenly host rather than an earthly messenger,[4] John the Baptist is unanimously interpreted in the Markan prologue as a “messenger” (Mk 1:2 NIV, NASB, NKJV, NRSV, ASV). It is necessary to at least picture the angelic version of ἄγγελος, for if Elijah himself was to return, would he not do so as an angel? This view of John the Baptist might align with Jesus’ own perspective on the matter: “And if you are willing to accept it, [John the Baptist] is the Elijah who was to come” (Mt 11:14).

As in most reflections upon topics related to the historical Jesus, the answer to the aforementioned questions may depend upon one’s preferred gospel. For example, the Lukan account “removed Elijah traits associated with John the Baptist so that [Luke] could attach them instead to Jesus.”[5] It is understandable that Luke would prefer to make the direct connection from Elijah to Jesus: both were game-changers for Israel, revolutionary prophets with supernatural abilities—especially the uncanny ability to heal. The Elijah story was especially powerful for Luke, given that in his account alone, Jesus cites the pericope of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath just before being rejected in the Nazarene synagogue (Lk 4:24-30). Jesus, however, is better understood as the Elisha to John the Baptist’s Elijah. Just as Elisha served for a period of time as Elijah’s disciple, modern scholars commonly accept Jesus as a disciple of John the Baptist, with the baptism event central to Jesus’ allegiance to John.[6] This is proposed not as a means to suggest the inferiority of Jesus, but rather to investigate the historical relationship between Jesus and John the Baptist. In reality, Jesus supersedes Elijah, Elisha, John and all other prophets. That Jesus needed a preparatory ἄγγελος does not diminish his status.


[1] Christine E. Joynes, “The Returned Elijah? John the Baptist’s Angelic Identity in the Gospel of Mark,” Scottish Journal of Theology 58, vol. 4 (2005), 456.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid., 460.

[4] Ibid., 464.

[5] Ibid., 459.

[6] William B. Badke, “Was Jesus a Disciple of John?” The Evangelical Quarterly 62, vol. 3 (1990), 198.