Wisdom Commentary Luke 10 24

Because there are more women in the Gospel of Luke than in any other gospel, feminists have given it much attention. In this commentary, Shelly Matthews and Barbara Reid show that feminist analysis demands much more than counting the number of female characters. Feminist biblical interpretation examines how the female characters function in the narrative and also scrutinizes the workings of power with respect to empire, to anti-Judaism, and to other forms of othering. Matthews and Reid draw attention to the ambiguities of the text-both the liberative possibilities and the ways that Luke upholds the patriarchal status quo-and guide readers to empowering reading strategies.

Because there are more women in the Gospel of Luke than in any other gospel, feminists have given it much attention. In this commentary, Shelly Matthews and Barbara Reid show that feminist analysis demands much more than counting the number of female characters. Feminist biblical interpretation examines how the female characters function in the narrative and also scrutinizes the workings of power with respect to empire, to anti-Judaism, and to other forms of othering. Matthews and Reid draw attention to the ambiguities of the text-both the liberative possibilities and the ways that Luke upholds the patriarchal status quo-and guide readers to empowering reading strategies.

Because there are more women in the Gospel of Luke than in any other gospel, feminists have given it much attention. In this commentary, Shelly Matthews and Barbara Reid show that feminist analysis demands much more than counting the number of female characters. Feminist biblical interpretation examines how the female characters function in the narrative and also scrutinizes the workings of power with respect to empire, to anti-Judaism, and to other forms of othering. Matthews and Reid draw attention to the ambiguities of the text—both the liberative possibilities and the ways that Luke upholds the patriarchal status quo—and guide readers to empowering reading strategies.

This work is a commentary on the passages in the Gospel of Luke in which women figure as characters and in the sayings of Jesus. These include the women of vision and spirit in the Infancy Narratives, the Galilean women who encounter Jesus, and the women empowered to serve. The method makes use of historical-critical, narrative, and feminist-liberationist approaches. This commentary is intended as a resource for students of the New Testament, pastors, seminarians, preachers, retreat directors, and Bible study groups.

This accessible introduction to the Gospels examines the distinctive messages offered by the texts, giving students a better understanding of methods and interpretations. It explores a close reading of each Gospel and encourages students to approach texts from their own perspectives, from postcolonialism to environmentalism. The discussion questions included will help students focus their reflections on the gospel narrative, its theology, and methods of reading it. How to Read the Gospels is an ideal textbook for undergraduate and seminary classrooms. The book aims to reach seminary and graduate students who study the Gospels critically and comprehensively. It provides user-friendly summaries such as the basics of each Gospel—authorship, history, important parables, etc. —the Jesus of each Gospel, and notable interpretation and translation issues. Without reading the entire story, readers often focus on only specific passages. This book aims to foster close reading of each entire text, sensitizing students to historical and literary issues that commonly arise—and helping them better understand various ways to interpret these formative stories. What makes this book unique is that it also engages various readings of the Gospels from traditional to deconstruction approaches, including womanist interpretation, disability interpretation, ecological interpretation, and many more. For example, how can readers understand the story of Jesus’ surprising conversation with the Samaritan woman in John 4 through the lens of feminism? Or postcolonial criticism? By providing alternative ways to think about these stories and various methods of approaching texts that may be new to the student, the book opens up how such passages can be interpreted and appreciated.

Blindness by bird excrement, seven husbands murdered by a love-sick demon, a father with the corpses of his sons-in-law interred in the backyard, and a magical fish. These farcical elements make the book of Tobit a striking work of humorous fiction in a long Jewish tradition of storytelling. But it is more than just an entertaining read. We might well laugh, but we cannot laugh too hard, for we also sympathize with the characters’ sincere struggles to understand God’s plan for their lives. This commentary considers the book of Tobit through a specifically feminist lens, discoursing on topics fundamental to the human experience in the story, such as grief, death, family relationships, belonging to a minority community, disability issues, and contending with why bad things happen to good people.

The Acts of the Apostles, the earliest work of its kind to have survived from Christian antiquity, is not “history” in the modern sense, nor is it about what we call “the church.” Written at least half a century after the time it describes, it is a portrait of the Movement of Jesus’ followers as it developed between 30 and 70 CE. More important, it is a depiction of the Movement of what Jesus wanted: the inbreaking of the reign of God. In this commentary, Linda Maloney, Ivoni Richter Reimer, and a host of other contributing voices look at what the text does and does not say about the roles of the original members of the Movement in bringing it toward fruition, with a special focus on those marginalized by society, many of them women. The author of Acts wrote for followers of Jesus in the second century and beyond, contending against those who wanted to break from the community of Israel and offering hope against hope, like Israel’s prophets before him.

Reading 1 Peter through the lens of feminist and diaspora studies keeps front and center the bodily, psychological, and social suffering experienced by those without stable support of family or homeland, whether they were economic migrants or descendants of those enslaved by Roman armies. In the new “household” of God, believers are encouraged to exhibit a moral superiority to the society that engulfs them. But adoption of “elite” values cannot erase the undertones of randomized verbal abuse, general scorn, and physical violence that women, immigrants, slaves, and freedmen faced as the “facts of life.” First Peter offers the “honor” of identifying with the Crucified, “by his bruises you are healed” (2:24). A Christian liberation ethic would challenge 1 Peter’s approach. Pliny the Younger, governor of Bithynia-Pontus in north-western Asia Minor, is a contemporary of 2 Peter’s writer. The polemical, accusatory genre of 2 Peter, like Jude, originates in Roman judicial rhetoric. The pastor, in the persona of a prosecuting attorney, condemns immoral defendants, including influential women. Their “crimes” encode community tensions over women’s leadership, Gentile-members’ sexual ethics, their syncretistic deviations from Jewish doctrine on creation, and the certainty of divine judgment and punishment. Citations to Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s A Woman’s Bible enliven the commentary. The doctrinal disorder prompts the male pastor to sustain loyalists in their commitment to “Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” Second Peter dramatizes an ecclesial crisis whose “solution” was the eventual imposition of a magisterium to silence dissent. Brief, combative, and assuming a familiarity with a literary culture that most twenty-first-century readers do not have, the Letter of Jude would be an obvious candidate for being the most neglected book of the New Testament. As a model for a pastoral strategy, it can be recommended only with great reservations: almost everyone will find in it something problematic, if not offensive. Yet, in addition to giving a window on a Greek-speaking Jewish-Christian milieu, Jude’s energetic prose testifies to the author’s visceral concern for those attempting to live by the gospel in difficult circumstances. Furthermore, to the extent that over familiarity with parts of the New Testament can blunt their challenge, this letter provides a salutary reminder that the entire canon originated in a world that is radically unfamiliar to us.