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Jesus and Prayer in His Jewish Context
What the New Testament Teaches Us
By: Daniel J. Harrington, SJ
The Word became flesh and lived among us” (John 1:14). Christianity is an incarnational religion. We believe that God, in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, took on our humanity in the land of Israel in what we call the first century a.d.
As we learn from the gospels, Jesus made his own the language, literary forms, and theological themes of Jewish prayer of his time. Jesus’ prayers and teachings on prayer as we find them in the gospels fit well within this historical and literary context. At the same time, they point to him as not only a wise and challenging teacher but also as a distinctive and even unique figure, one worthy of such titles as “Son of God” and “Our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Jewish Prayer in Jesus’ Time
Jesus’ teaching about prayer and his practice are deeply rooted in the Jewish tradition as expressed in the biblical Book of Psalms and in the prayers of Jews throughout the centuries. His direct address to God, his praise of God’s work in creation and salvation history, and his emphasis on the prayer of petition were—and are—major elements in the Jewish prayer tradition.
The Book of Psalms consists of 150 prayers, ranging from a few short verses to the 176 verses in the elaborately structured Psalm 119. The present book is a collection of earlier collections and looks something like a hymnal. Many of these psalms were first composed for use in worship services held in the Jerusalem Temple. Some psalms were obviously intended to accompany the offering of sacrifices, whereas other psalms, such as Psalm 119, are more meditative and were perhaps designed for use in other communal and personal contexts.
In studying and praying the psalms, it is important to recognize the different categories or scripts. The Hebrew word for the psalms is Tehillim, which means “praises.” While all the psalms sing God’s praises in some way or other, the largest category is the lament. In these psalms, the individual or community addresses God with some complaint, expresses trust in God, and hopes that God will do something about the problem. There are psalms of confidence in God and thanksgiving to God as well as celebrations of God’s actions in creation and in Israel’s history. There are also wisdom psalms, songs of Zion about Jerusalem and its Temple, and royal psalms about the king or about God as king.
By Jesus’ time, the Book of Psalms had become the prayer book of the Jewish people. The many manuscripts of the psalms in the library of the community at Qumran, which gave us the most important of the Dead Sea scrolls, indicate how popular they were. The psalms not only served as prayers to be read and recited but also provided the language and theology for writing new prayers and hymns. The Jewish prayers composed in Jesus’ time drew freely on the words and images in the biblical psalms and placed them in new combinations and new contexts. To a large extent the biblical Book of Psalms shaped the language and theology of Jewish prayer in Jesus’ time.
Also by Jesus’ time, what has now become the traditional order of Jewish prayer was beginning to take shape. An observant Jewish male is expected to recite the “Eighteen Benedictions” three times a day. Those prayers are accompanied in the morning and evening by the recitation of three biblical passages (Deuteronomy 6:4-9; 11:13-21; Numbers 15:37-41) plus opening and closing benedictions. These readings are called the Shema, the Hebrew word for “hear,” which is the first word in the text of Deuteronomy 6:4 (“Hear, O Israel”). It is likely that Jesus and his first followers were familiar with something like this routine of worship. In fact, Jesus may have intended the Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:9-13; Luke 11:2-4) as a simplified version of the Eighteen Benedictions. This suggestion is strengthened by the notice in the Didache (8:3), an early handbook for Christian life, that the Lord’s Prayer was to be recited three times a day.
The theological framework of the Jewish daily prayer is set by the opening words of the Shema: “Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one” (see Deuteronomy 6:4). The proper human response is to “love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might” (Deuteronomy 6:5). The opening and concluding benedictions (“Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the universe”) praise God for his work of creation and redemption and for revealing his will to his people.
The “Eighteen Benedictions” constitute the core of the Jewish daily prayer. They are sometimes called Tephillah, which is the Hebrew word for “prayer,” because they form the Jewish prayer par excellence. They are also referred to as the Amidah, from the Hebrew word for “stand up,” since they are recited while standing. They are properly recited in a group of ten men, but may be said individually if it is not possible to find the right number or minyan in Hebrew. Women are not obligated to pray three times a day, since their domestic duties might make their participation impossible. Each man recites the prayers individually and at his own pace, allowing for differences in devotion or attention. The prayers have a fixed form. But individuals may expand the prayers or make minor substitutions.
The Eighteen Benedictions are in fact a combination of praises and petitions (See Joseph Heinemann with Jakob J. Petuchowski, Literature of the Synagogue, pp. 33–36). The first three benedictions address God as both the God of the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and the creator of heaven and earth; as the powerful and eternal one who revives the dead; and as the holy one whose name is awesome. The first set of petitions (four through nine) concerns personal matters in the present: understanding, repentance, forgiveness, redemption, healing, and abundant harvests. The second set (ten through fifteen) expresses national concerns about Israel’s future: the gathering of the dispersed Israelites, just leaders, no hope for apostates, compassion for converts, the rebuilding of Jerusalem, the coming of the Davidic Messiah, and the hearing of prayers. The final three benedictions concern reverent worship of God, thanksgiving to God, and peace.
These Jewish prayers have been composed and practiced in a theological framework that is typical not only of Jewish prayer but also of the prayers that we find in the New Testament and the Christian tradition. These Jewish prayers balance the transcendence of God as Creator and Lord with the immanence of God, who may be addressed directly and who can and does enter into human affairs. Most of the phrases come from the Hebrew Bible, but now appear in new combinations and new contexts. There is a fixed form but also room for individual expression and adaptation. And there is both a sense of community (the proper number or minyan for the prayer to be “official”) and a respect for individual persons praying at their own pace and according to their own devotion.
Another Jewish prayer that is essential for understanding Jesus’ own prayer is called the Kaddish, from the Hebrew word for “holy.” While in the Jewish tradition it has become associated with the death of a loved one, in its content it is a prayer for the coming of the kingdom of God. The Kaddish asks that God’s name be sanctified or “hallowed” by all creation and that God’s kingdom be fully established soon and in our lifetime:
May his great name be magnified and sanctified in the world that is to be created anew, when he will revive the dead and raise them up unto life eternal, rebuild the city of Jerusalem, and establish his temple in the midst thereof, and uproot all alien worship from the earth and restore the worship of the true God. May the Holy One, blessed be he, establish his kingdom and his glory during your life and during your days, and during the life of all the house of Israel, speedily and at a near time; and say Amen. (Heinemann, p. 84)
The parallels between the Kaddish and the Lord’s Prayer are striking. Whether Jesus was alluding to the Kaddish or something like it, is not certain. But there is clearly a kinship in wording and content between them, which suggests once more that the prayers included in the New Testament must be understood in the context of contemporary Judaism.
The Lord’s Prayer
Many Christians are not aware that there are two different versions of the Lord’s Prayer in the New Testament. The more familiar version (Matthew 6:9-13) appears in the Sermon on the Mount. A somewhat shorter version (Luke 11:2-4) is part of Jesus’ first instruction about prayer in Luke’s Gospel (11:1-13) during his long journey with his disciples from Galilee to Jerusalem. Both versions are prayers for the full coming of God’s kingdom. Both versions were used in early Christian communities—Matthew’s version by Jewish Christians, and Luke’s version by Gentile Christians.
Since the Lukan version is less familiar, it may be a better starting point. According to Luke 11:1, Jesus composed this prayer in response to a request from a disciple to give his followers a prayer like the one John the Baptist had apparently given to his followers. We do not have the text of John’s prayer. But from everything we know about John (see Luke 3:1-20), it must have concerned the full coming of God’s kingdom.
He said to them, “When you pray, say:
Father, hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come.
Give us each day our daily bread.
And forgive us our sins,
for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.
And do not bring us to the time of trial.”
(Luke 11:2-4)
The Lukan version of the Lord’s Prayer is addressed simply to God as “Father.” This title seems to reflect Jesus’ characteristic way of speaking to God and his consciousness of his own special relationship with God as the “Son of God.” By teaching his followers to call upon God as their “Father” too, Jesus invites them—and us—to share in his relationship of intimacy with God. In the ancient Mediterranean world, a father was expected to care for and form his children into adults. And in turn, children were expected to show respect and honor toward their father. Paul affirms that all Christians who have received the Holy Spirit in baptism can cry out to God with the words “Abba, Father” (Galatians 4:6; Abba is the Aramaic word for Father), and regard themselves as children of God alongside Jesus.
The body of the Lord’s Prayer is a prayer of petition. It contains two petitions for the full coming of God’s kingdom (Luke 11:2) that use second-person singular language (“your name … your kingdom”) and three petitions for sustenance, forgiveness, and protection during the kingdom’s coming (11:3-4) that are cast in first-person plural language (“give us … forgive us … do not bring us”).
The two “you” petitions concern what was the central theme of Jesus’ own preaching and activity: the kingdom of God. Most of Jesus’ parables and many of his other teachings challenged his hearers to discern the presence of God’s kingdom among them and to look forward in hope to its future fullness. His many healings and exorcisms are best understood as previews or anticipations of the fullness of God’s kingdom.
In Luke 11:2 the focus is on the future dimension of the kingdom. Here Jesus teaches us to pray that one day all creation may join in a cosmic chorus in praise of God as sovereign lord over all. In that way God’s name will be “hallowed.” The second “you” petition is parallel to the first: “Your kingdom come.” While God’s kingdom has been made present in and through Jesus, the fullness is yet to come. Like the Jewish Kaddish prayer, the Lord’s Prayer looks forward to the establishment of God’s perfect reign soon.
The three “we” petitions concern what we need if we are to enter and enjoy God’s kingdom when it comes in its fullness. Jews in Jesus’ time expected that the coming of the kingdom would be a time of testing and trial for humankind. Some texts (including Mark 13:8) describe this period as the “birth pangs” or “woes” of the Messiah. While for wise and righteous persons this time will end in their vindication and reward, it will nonetheless involve suffering and danger.
The three “we” petitions in Luke 11:3-4 must be interpreted in this context. We need for God to sustain us by providing us with “our daily bread.” We need also for God to forgive our sins. And we can receive such divine forgiveness provided that we too are willing to forgive those who are “indebted” to us. Whether “indebted” is to be taken in its financial sense or spiritually or both is not clear. In some Jewish circles, “debt” had become a metaphor for sin as an offense against God and/or other people. The third and last “we” petition (“and do not bring us to the time of trial”) is difficult to translate and interpret. It asks God to spare us the worst of the testing and to help us not to fall in whatever trial might come our way.
The more familiar Matthean version of the Lord’s Prayer (6:9-13) adapts the opening address to the more common Jewish title for God in prayer, “Our Father in heaven.” The pronomial adjective “our” alludes to God’s presence among us (God’s immanence), while “in heaven” reminds us of the cosmic scope of God’s reign (God’s transcendence). The third “you” petition (“Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” 6:10) is parallel to the petitions about the hallowing of God’s name and the full coming of God’s kingdom. The “we” petition about forgiveness uses the image of “debt” twice (“our debts … our debtors”). Again it is not clear whether “debt” is meant on the financial or spiritual level. And the final “we” petition is expanded by the parallel clause “rescue us from the evil one” (6:13) The “evil one” may refer to Satan as the “tester” (see Job 1–2). Or it may simply be a way of referring to “evil” in general. The expanded address and the added petition are typical of the flexibility of Jewish prayer and may reflect the use of the Lord’s Prayer in Jewish Christian communities.
The Lord’s Prayer has deep roots in contemporary Jewish prayers, as we have seen from the psalms, the Eighteen Benedictions, and the Kaddish. And yet it fits perfectly with what we know about the teachings and activities of Jesus himself. As we learn from the Didache, it soon became the characteristic prayer of early Christians. Its different versions in Matthew 6:9-13 and Luke 11:2-4 attest to its use in both Jewish and Gentile Christian circles. The Lord’s Prayer is an expression of our intimacy with and dependence on God, of our hope for the full coming of God’s kingdom, and of our need for God’s sustenance, forgiveness, and protection in the meantime.
Persistence in Prayer
The Lord’s Prayer is a prayer of petition. In form and content it is similar to the Jewish Eighteen Benedictions and the Kaddish. Its shorter Lukan version appears as the initial part in the first of two blocks of Jesus’ teachings about how to pray (see Luke 11:1-13; 18:1-14). Both of those blocks concern the prayer of petition and urge us to be persistent, bold, and humble in our prayers.
Jesus’ parable of the friend at midnight (11:5-8) reflects a common experience:
And he said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.’ And he answers from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.’ I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs.”
(Luke 11:5-8)
Often a friend or family member, especially a child, will be so persistent in making a request that we find it easier to give in rather than to continue to resist. We grow weary of hearing, “Please, please, please …” The surprising point of this parable is that if we are persistent enough and bold enough in prayer, God, like a worn-down parent, will eventually give into our petitions and grant our requests.
Jesus continues the surprises by insisting on the almost automatic efficacy of prayers of petition in Luke 11:9-10: “Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.” Here there are no theological qualifications (if it be God’s will) or conditions (if the request is made sincerely, or if it is good for you). The absolute character of the saying further encourages us to boldness and persistence in prayer. There are no “ifs, ands, or buts” about it.
The first Lukan block of Jesus’ teachings on prayer is concluded in 11:11-13 with two more short parables. If your child asked for a fish, would you give him a snake? Or if your child asked for an egg, would you give her a scorpion? Of course not! Any parent and any adult in their right minds would give only good gifts to their own children. Then using the logical and rhetorical device of arguing “from the lesser to the greater” that was used extensively by the rabbinic sages, Jesus says, “How much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (11:13). Beside confirming us in being bold and persistent in prayer, this saying affirms that God wants to hear and answer our prayers and to give us good gifts, and that God especially wants to give us the best gift of all—the Holy Spirit. The gift of the Holy Spirit will enable us to enter into the divine life and live out of the power of the Spirit of God.
The second Lukan instruction on the prayer of petition in 18:1-14 reinforces the theme of persistence in prayer (18:1-8) and insists on the importance of humility in prayer (18:9-14). The parable of the persistent widow is prefaced by the notice that Jesus told this parable about the “need to pray always and not to lose heart.”
Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my opponent.’ For a while he refused; but later he said to himself, ‘Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.’” And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”
(Luke 18:1-8)
The parable features two characters: a widow and a judge. In the ancient world, a widow was among the most defenseless and powerless persons. Unless she had adult sons who were powerful and influential, a widow had no social standing and no political power. The other character is a judge, who in this case is an opportunist and a pragmatist, without respect for God or other persons. One might presume that nothing good could come from their interaction. But when the widow brings her case, she eventually prevails. She prevails not because she is influential or powerful and not because the judge is honest or compassionate. Rather, she wins her case only because she is persistent. She keeps after the judge and finally wears him down. Because the widow will not take no for an answer, the judge decides to give her what she wants in the hope of getting rid of her. The point of Jesus’ parable is clear. If a defenseless and powerless widow can wear down a corrupt judge through her persistence alone, how much more can we expect that God, the just and merciful judge, will hear our prayers and answer them positively if we persist?
But how can we pray always? Persistence is one thing, but praying always is something even more. When we hear the word “prayer,” most of us instinctively think of formal prayers like the Lord’s Prayer or the Rosary. And we should, since formal prayers are integral to Christian spirituality. There is, however, another way of thinking about prayer in Christian life. It is the effort to make our whole life into a prayer—that is, to pray always. This kind of prayer involves offering all that we are and have and do to the service of God, recalling God’s presence at various times during our day, and making all our personal encounters and actions into a kind of prayer. This form of prayer means bringing all our successes and failures, joys and sorrows, highs and lows to God in prayer. This habit of prayer, of course, needs to be complemented by formal prayers. But the combination of the two can add up to praying always.
Humility in Prayer
The parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector in Luke 18:9-14 reminds us that God hears the prayers of some surprising persons, and that we all must approach God in prayer with humility.
He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”
(Luke 18:9-14)
To appreciate this parable and its message, we must place the two main characters in their historical and social context in first-century Palestine. In the gospels, the Pharisees often appear as negative characters. They are the most persistent opponents of Jesus, and he often criticizes their attitudes and behavior. In English today, the term “Pharisee” can refer to a legalist imposing strict views on others while really being a religious hypocrite or fraud, someone who pretends to be devout and observant but really is not.
In Jesus’ context, however, people would have heard the word differently. The Pharisees were members of a prominent and generally well-respected Jewish religious movement. Many of them were genuinely devout and observant. They were the progressives of their day, seeking to adapt biblical laws to changed historical circumstances and to the demands of their everyday life. They gathered regularly for prayer and study, and their common meals celebrated their group identity and religious commitment. Of all the Jewish groups of Jesus’ time, Jesus was closest to them. He shared an agenda with them, debated with them, and sometimes agreed with them. For example, Jesus and the Pharisees agreed about the resurrection of the dead. Those who first heard Jesus’ parable would have considered the Pharisee as an exemplar of Jewish learning and piety.
In Jesus’ time and place, the tax collector in the parable would have been regarded as the opposite of the Pharisee. Taxes were often let out for bid. The Roman government official or the agent for Herod Antipas might specify the amount to be collected from the inhabitants of a certain area. The tax collector would then contract to pay the specified amount to the government. What he collected above and beyond that amount was his to keep. So in Jesus’ day, tax collectors were suspect on two counts. They were suspected of dishonesty for overcharging the people and keeping the excess profits for themselves. They were also suspected of being collaborators and instruments of the Roman occupiers.
These two men went up to the Temple to pray. Whose prayer was heard by God? And why? The Pharisee’s prayer was not heard because he exalted himself. His prayer was so focused on himself, his superiority to the tax collector, and his own spiritual achievements that it was hardly a prayer at all. It was more like an exercise in self-congratulation than prayer. By contrast, the tax collector, whatever his failings may have been, knew who God is and who he was before God. And so he prayed simply and sincerely, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”
Whose prayer does God hear? If our prayer becomes an exercise in self-congratulation like that of the Pharisee, our prayer will not be heard because it is not prayer at all. However, if our prayer celebrates God’s justice and mercy, if it acknowledges our dependence on God, our sinfulness, and our need for God’s mercy, then God will hear our prayer, because it is genuine prayer made in a spirit of humility proper to us as God’s creatures and servants.
Think, Pray, and Act
Think
When you say the Lord’s Prayer, how do you imagine God? What do you want God to do? Where do you fit in?
Pray
Recite the Lord’s Prayer slowly and thoughtfully. Do you understand it as a prayer for the full coming of God’s kingdom?
Act
Set some time apart to pray for others and their needs.
An excerpt from Jesus and Prayer by Daniel J. Harrington, SJ.
http://wau.org/resources/article/re_jesus_and_prayer_in_his_jewish_context/
Jesus’ Practice of and Teachings about Prayer
What the New Testament Teaches Us about Prayer.
The gospels tell us surprisingly little about Jesus’ routine or regular practice of prayer. In what seems to have been the earliest gospel, Mark notes that after Jesus’ initial successes in calling disciples, casting out a demon, and healing Peter’s mother-in-law and many other sick people, Jesus got up early in the morning and went to pray at a deserted place (1:35).
He prayed there until he was summoned by Simon Peter and his companions to resume his public ministry of proclaiming God’s kingdom. According to Mark 6:46, Jesus withdrew to a mountain to pray in between the miraculous feeding of the five thousand and his walking on the waters of the Sea of Galilee. In the Old Testament, both the desert and the mountain sometimes serve as special places for encountering God. One gets the impression from Mark’s very few notices about Jesus’ prayer life that he had developed a rhythm between his communion with the Father and his teaching and other public activities.
In the teaching material in Mark 11:25, Jesus advises a willingness to forgive others if we wish to be forgiven by God: “Whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone; so that your Father in heaven may also forgive you your trespasses.” This echoes the words of the Lord’s Prayer (see Matthew 6:12 and Luke 11:4). And in Mark 13:18, Jesus describes the events preceding the coming of the Son of Man and warns his disciples to “pray that it may not be in winter,” when traveling would be especially difficult.
In his revised and expanded version of Mark’s Gospel, Matthew notes that Jesus went up the mountain by himself to pray (14:23) before walking on the water. To Mark’s warning to pray about not having to flee in winter, Matthew in 24:20 adds “or on a sabbath.” Thus, for his largely Jewish Christian community, he addresses what might have posed a crisis of conscience of having to violate the Sabbath in order to flee. To Mark’s account of Jesus blessing the children (Mark 10:13-15), Matthew in 19:13 specifies that Jesus was asked to “pray” over them.
In Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount (chapters 5–7), Jesus challenges his followers to love their enemies and “pray for those who persecute you” (5:44). In the section (6:1-18) devoted to the three acts of piety expected of pious Jewish men (almsgiving, prayer, and fasting), Jesus insists that they be performed without ostentation or public display. He does not want them to be done only to get a reputation for holiness, but rather as genuine works of religious devotion to God. In discussing prayer in 6:5-6, Jesus first criticizes as “hypocrites” those who pray only at synagogues or in the streets to be seen by others, and warns that “they have received their reward.” By contrast, he tells his followers to pray in places where they cannot be seen (“go into your room and shut the door”) on the grounds that there will be no mixed motives in that kind of prayer. Acts of piety like prayer are intended to express one’s devotion to God and should be kept as pure and authentic as possible. In Matthew 6:7-8, Jesus goes on to warn against long and wordy prayers “as the Gentiles do.” He observes that “your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” These teachings set the stage for the text of the Lord’s Prayer, which as we have seen seems to be a compact version of the Eighteen Benedictions.
At one pivotal point in Matthew’s narrative (11:25-26), we have a prayer of thanksgiving recited by Jesus. Much of Matthew 11 and 12 is devoted to the mixed reception and even hostility that Jesus and his message of God’s kingdom were receiving from his Jewish contemporaries. In the midst of this generally gloomy account, there is a ray of light and hope when Jesus thanks God for those persons who had surprisingly received him and his message in a positive way.
At that time Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will.”
(Matthew 11:25-26)
Here Jesus’ prayer takes the form of a thanksgiving. In the Old Testament and in other Jewish prayers, a thanksgiving was a public witness and affirmation that God had been at work in rescuing the speaker from great danger or in revealing some important truth. Many of the Old Testament thanksgiving psalms were very likely written to accompany the offering of material sacrifices in the Jerusalem Temple. Among the Dead Sea scrolls, one of the most important documents is known as the Hodayot or Thanksgiving Hymns. In these texts the speaker often uses first-person singular language (“I”). He begins with the words “I thank you, O Lord” and proceeds to provide the reason why (“for you have …” ). Some scholars contend that in these first-person singular thanksgivings, we can hear the voice of this Jewish sect’s leader, spiritual guide, and hero, who was active in the second century b.c, who was known as the “Teacher of Righteousness.”
According to Matthew 11:25-26, Jesus began his thanksgiving in the customary Jewish way: “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth.” His address to God balances the divine immanence (“Father”) and the divine transcendence (“Lord of heaven and earth”). The reason for his thanksgiving is the success that Jesus had among the “infants,” which is clearly a way of talking about the unlikely and even marginal persons—tax collectors, sinners, prostitutes, and so on—from whom Jesus had received his most positive response (see Matthew 11:19). On the other hand, those who would seem to have been more likely to respond positively to Jesus (“the wise and the intelligent”) do not seem to “get” what Jesus was saying. In the context of Matthew’s Gospel—and very likely in the context of Jesus’ own ministry—it was the Pharisees and the Temple officials who seem especially to have failed to grasp the importance of what Jesus was saying and doing. In his thanksgiving prayer, Jesus attributes this curious situation to God’s “gracious will,” a term quite frequently used in the Qumran Thanksgiving Hymns and other Dead Sea scrolls.
Jesus’ thanksgiving prayer is accompanied by his declaration in Matthew 11:27 that as God’s Son, he is the revealer and revelation of God and of God’s wisdom. And it is accompanied by his invitation in 11:28-30 for those seeking genuine wisdom to come to his school of wisdom where one can find a gentle and humble teacher and rest for one’s soul. Compare the similar language used by the Jewish wisdom teacher Jesus ben Sira in describing his own wisdom school in Jerusalem in the early second century b.c. (see Sirach 6:18-31 and 51:23-30).
As we have seen already, prayer is a major theme in Luke’s Gospel. It contains not only a sample prayer from Jesus (11:1-4) but also his instructions about persistence in prayer (11:5-13 and 18:1-8) and humility in prayer (18:9-14). Luke’s Gospel also portrays Jesus as praying at the most decisive moments in his public ministry. According to Luke 3:21-22, Jesus was praying after his baptism when the Holy Spirit descended upon him and the heavenly voice identified him as God’s Son and servant. After his initial successes in healing the sick, Luke tells us that Jesus “would withdraw to deserted places and pray” (5:16). Before choosing the twelve apostles, Jesus is said in Luke 6:12 to have gone out to the mountain to pray and to have “spent the night in prayer to God.” In his Sermon on the Plain, he instructs his followers to “bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you” (6:28). Prior to Peter’s climactic confession of Jesus as “the Messiah of God,” Jesus “was praying alone” (9:18). According to Luke 9:29, the transfiguration of Jesus took place “while he was praying.” In the passion narrative, Jesus is arrested while he is at prayer on the Mount of Olives (22:39-46). And on the cross he prays for those who were responsible for executing him (23:34) and dies with a prayer (see Psalm 31:5) on his lips: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit” (Luke 23:46).
The Prayer of God’s Son
In comparison with the three synoptic gospels, John’s Gospel tells us very little about Jesus’ practice of prayer. Only when we reach the farewell discourse in John 14–17 does the topic of prayer come to the fore. In John 14:14 Jesus assures his disciples that prayers in his name will surely be answered: “If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.” But in 16:26-27, Jesus explains that he has no need to ask the Father on their behalf, since the Father loves them and presumably knows what they need already. There are some echoes here of what has been said about the prayer of petition in the other gospels (see Luke 11:9-13).
What is unique to John’s Gospel is Jesus’ own very long prayer in John 17. This is the conclusion to his farewell discourse at the Last Supper in John 14–17 and the prelude to the passion narrative that begins in John 18. It is sometimes referred to as Jesus’ “high priestly prayer” because in it he performs a “priestly” function by interceding for himself, his disciples, and those who will become disciples through them. But it is better called “the prayer of God’s Son,” since Jesus prays especially to his heavenly Father in his unique role as the Son of God. Throughout the prayer, Jesus addresses God as “Father” (see 17:1, 5, 11, 21, 24, 25).
Modern scholars often call the farewell discourse in John 14–17 the “testament” of Jesus and associate it with a literary form common in Jewish literature in New Testament times. There are testaments attributed to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, the twelve sons of Jacob, Moses, Solomon, and Job. A testament contains the last words of the departing hero. In it the hero looks over the past and into the future, and gives advice for those whom he leaves behind on how to behave in the present. Testaments often conclude with the hero’s prayer for his children or friends. In his concluding prayer in John 17, Jesus prays in turn for himself (17:1-5), for his disciples (17:6-19), and for those who will come to believe through his disciples (17:20-26).
Jesus’ prayer for himself in John 17:1-5 concerns the relationship between his glory and his Father’s glory.
After Jesus had spoken these words, he looked up to heaven and said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do. 5So now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world existed.”
(John 17:1-5)
By looking up to heaven and addressing God as “Father,” Jesus creates the atmosphere of prayer. He announces that his “hour”—his passion, death, resurrection, and exaltation—has finally come (see John 12:23; 12:27; 13:1; 16:32), and prays that it will be seen for what it really is: a manifestation of God’s glory. Just as in carrying out his work of revealing the Father Jesus glorified God, now on the eve of the passion Jesus prays that he may again glorify God and that God may glorify him. He also prays that through his “hour,” he may give eternal life to all those whom God has given him. In the “hour” of Jesus, it will become apparent to the eyes of faith that the Father and the Son possess the same divine glory. Thus the readers of John’s Gospel are instructed to view what follows in John 18–19 not as a defeat or tragedy but rather as a triumph and an exaltation.
In praying for his disciples in John 17:6-19, Jesus asks that his heavenly Father might protect them, make them holy, and empower them to carry on his mission.
“I have made your name known to those whom you gave me from the world. They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. Now they know that everything you have given me is from you; for the words that you gave to me I have given to them, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent me. I am asking on their behalf; I am not asking on behalf of the world, but on behalf of those whom you gave me, because they are yours. All mine are yours, and yours are mine; and I have been glorified in them. And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one. While I was with them, I protected them in your name that you have given me. I guarded them, and not one of them was lost except the one destined to be lost, so that the scripture might be fulfilled. But now I am coming to you, and I speak these things in the world so that they may have my joy made complete in themselves. I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them from the evil one. They do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. And for their sakes I sanctify myself, so that they also may be sanctified in truth.”
(John 17:6-19)
Before making his prayer in John 17:9, Jesus describes his disciples as the ones to whom he has revealed God and manifested God’s glory. They in turn have accepted Jesus’ words and recognized that he has come from God. In his prayer, Jesus distinguishes them from “the world,” taken in its negative Johannine sense as the forces of evil arrayed against God and his Son. The disciples have been taken into the relationship that exists between the Father and the Son. The departing Jesus prays that they may continue in this relationship and that God will protect them from “the evil one.” But that relationship is not purely defensive or protective. Rather, Jesus also prays that they will carry on his mission for which he had been sent into the world (17:18) and that they will be swept up into the holiness and truth of God (17:17, 19). The fragility of the disciples’ situation is underscored by the repeated references to the opposition that they will face from “the world” (17:9, 11, 13, 14, 15, 16, 18).
Finally, in John 17:20-26 Jesus prays for those who will come to believe in him through his disciples.
“I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world.
“Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me. I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.”
(John 17:20-26)
The same points are made in both John 17:21 and 17:22-23. Jesus prays that all these persons may be one as he and the Father are one so that they may share in the divine unity and that they may come to believe that God sent the Son. The parallelism is broken at the end of 17:23 with the notice that the Father loves them “even as you [the Father] have loved me,” which prepares for Jesus’ wish at the end of the prayer that the Father’s love “may be in them, and I in them” (17:26). The object of the church’s mission is “the world,” now understood more positively or at least neutrally. Caught up in the mystery of love between the Father and the Son that existed before the creation of the world (17:24), these believers will share in the divine glory, divine unity, and divine mission. The Son of God prays that his disciples and those who come to believe through them may enjoy the same relationship with the Father that he himself experiences. The Son of God prays that they too may be children of God.
Bringing the Contexts Together
There is a profound theology of prayer in Judaism that has become part of the Christian tradition of prayer through Jesus and the early Christians. It is the framework within which we ourselves can and should pray today. As “our Father in heaven,” the God to whom we pray is both immanent (“our Father”) and transcendent (“in heaven”). This God can be addressed directly as the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and not only hears our prayers but also wants to respond positively to them. At the same time, this God is the Lord of all creation, the one who creates and sustains us and yet remains infinitely superior to us.
As mediated through Jesus and the early Christians, the Jewish prayer tradition has given us the language and the literary forms of prayer that most of us use in our prayer today. Moreover, the words and forms of our formal liturgies have been shaped by the psalms and other biblical and early Jewish conventions. From this tradition we can also learn the value of pious flexibility even in our formal prayers, and we can come to appreciate better the creative relationship between personal prayer and communal prayer.
In the Lord’s Prayer that Jesus has taught us to pray, the central theme is the kingdom of God. This was also the central theme of Jesus’ parables and other teachings about prayer and other topics. Even his miracles were not so much spectacular displays of his personal power as they were signs pointing to the presence and future fullness of God’s reign. His insistence on boldness and persistence in prayer should inspire us to be less passive and guarded in our prayers. His example of praying at the decisive moments in his life is surely worthy of imitation on our part. And finally, as his farewell prayer in John 17 suggests, we now have the risen Jesus praying and interceding for us with his heavenly Father.
Think, Pray, and Act
Consider how the prayers of Jesus and his teachings on prayer in the gospels might enrich your appreciation of Jesus and your own way of praying.
Think
How strongly do you believe in the prayer of petition? Are you just covering your bets? Or is there some experience that has confirmed your belief in the power of prayer?
For what have you asked God recently? Did you get what you asked for?
Pray
Place yourself in God’s presence, and ask God for the three things you want most.
Act
Is there anyone whom you need to forgive before seeking forgiveness from God? How might you go about doing so?
An excerpt from Jesus and Prayer by Daniel J. Harrington, SJ.
http://wau.org/resources/article/re_jesus_practice_of_and_teachings_about_prayer/
Prayer is not a stratagem for occasional use, a refuge to resort to now and then. It is rather like an established residence for the innermost self. All things have a home, the bird has a nest, the fox has a hole, the bee has a hive. A soul without prayer is a soul without a home. Weary, sobbing, the soul, after roaming through a world festered with aimlessness, falsehoods and absurdities, seeks a moment in which to gather up its scattered life, in which to divest itself of enforced pretensions and camouflage, in which to simplify complexities, in which to call for help without being a coward. Such a home is prayer. Continuity, permanence, intimacy, authenticity, earnestness are its attributes. For the soul, home is where prayer is.
Quoted from “On Prayer” in
Understanding Jewish Prayer
by Jakob J. Petuchowski
New York: Ktav Publishing House, 1972
“Choose life!” is the great legacy of the Hebrew Bible, and the cult of life is affirmed in contemporary theology. However, life is not a thing, static and final. Life means living, and in living you have to choose a road, direction, goals. Pragmatists who believe that life itself can provide us with the criteria for truth overlook the fact that forces of suicide and destruction are also inherent in life.
The essence of living as a human being is being challenged, being tempted, being called. We pray for wisdom, for laws of knowing how to respond to our being challenged. Living is not enough by itself. Just to be is a blessing. Just to live is holy. And yet, being alive is no answer to the problems of living. To be or not to be is not the question. The vital question is: how to be and how not to be? The tendency to forget this vital question is the tragic disease of contemporary man, a disease that may prove fatal, that may end in disaster. To pray is to reflect passionately the perpetual urgency of this vital question.
Quoted from “On Prayer” in Understanding Jewish Prayer by Jakob J. Petuchowski
New York: Ktav Publishing House, 1972
The problem is not how to revitalize prayer; the problem is how to revitalize ourselves. Let us begin to cultivate those thoughts and virtues without which our worship becomes, of necessity, a prayer for the dead—for ideas which are dead to our hearts.
We must not surrender to the power of platitudes. If our rational methods are deficient and too weak to plumb the depth of faith, let us go into stillness and wait for the age in which reason will learn to appreciate the spirit rather than accept standardized notions that stifle the mind and stultify the soul. We must not take too seriously phrases or ideas which the history of human thought must have meant in jest, as for example, that prayer is “a symbol of ideas and values,” “a tendency to idealize the world,” “an act of the appreciation of the self.” There was a time when God became so distant that we were almost ready to deny Him, had psychologists or sociologists not been willing to permit us to believe in Him. And how grateful some of us were when told ex cathedra that prayer is not totally irrelevant because it does satisfy an emotional need.
To Judaism the purpose of prayer is not to satisfy an emotional need. Prayer is not a need but an ontological necessity, an act that constitutes the very essence of man. He who has never prayed is not fully human. Ontology, not psychology or sociology, explains prayer.
The dignity of man consists not in his ability to make tools, machines, guns, but primarily in his being endowed with the gift of addressing God. It is this gift which should be a part of the definition of man.
Man’s Quest for God
by Abraham Joshua Heschel
New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1954
pp. 77
Top of Form
Bottom of Form
Judaism
in the Time of Jesus
Judaism was a Diverse Phenomenon
In Christian circles the Judaism of the time of Jesus has often been thought of as an outward legalistic religion to which the message of Jesus and the early Christians was a complete antithesis. Such a picture has, however, proved to be a blatant caricature. Today the ministry of Jesus is seen rather as a movement within Judaism rather than as something opposed to it. At the same time people have begun to understand how complex and still developing a phenomenon first-century Judaism was.
At the beginning of the Christian era Judaism was divided into several different groups, each of which had its own views concerning the true Jewish way of life. On the other hand, certain basic beliefs were common to them all.
The Basic Beliefs of Judaism
Although at the beginning of the Christian era Judaism comprised several different groups, certain basic beliefs were common to them all: belief in one God, belief in the covenant which God had made with his people Israel, and belief in the foundational book of this covenant, the Law of God or the Torah.
The covenant between God and Israel comprised duties and commitments which pertained to both parties. God committed himself to treat Israel in accordance with its special position as his own people, and to teach the Israelites the principles of a good and blessed life. Israel made the commitment to be obedient to God and to live a life befitting the people of God. These principles are found in the Torah or Law of Moses, its teaching and practical applications. The Torah also included directions concerning atonement for offences committed so that the covenant might nevertheless remain in effect.
It is important to note that in Judaism the Law is not a way of salvation. Salvation – the election of God – is based exclusively on the grace of God.
Jewish Groups
At the beginning of the Christian era Judaism was divided into many different groups. These were the Pharisees, the Sadducees, the Essenes, the Zealots – and the Jesus Movement. In spite of differences between them the groups were united by certain basic beliefs.
The Pharisees
In the Gospels the Pharisees often appear as the influential arch-enemies of Jesus. They tirelessly watch how the Jewish people observe the purity and holiness code. From this the word ‘Pharisee’ has come commonly to be a synonym of ‘hypocrite’. Such a picture of the Pharisees is, however, one-sided. In fact the Pharisees were one Jewish group among many – a lay movement which placed emphasis on the Torah (the Law of Moses and its interpretation) and in particular on the importance of the purity code for everyday holiness.
There were also many different types of Pharisee. Some of them seem to have been fairly close to Jesus in their thinking. Sayings resembling the teaching of Jesus occur among the sayings of Rabbi Hillel, for instance, and Hillel was active in Pharisaic circles. The Apostle Paul also came from among the Pharisees.
In the opinion of the Pharisees holiness was not only for the priests and the Temple. By observing the purity code every member of the people of God might participate in the holiness of God. In the interpretation of the written Law the Pharisees had the help of the so-called ‘Oral Law’, i.e. oral tradition consisting of explanations of the Law which was thought to go back to Moses himself.
Conflicts between the Pharisees and the disciples of Jesus came to a head after the death of Jesus, when the Jesus movement began to accept Gentiles into membership without demanding that they be circumcised or that they observe the purity code. These controversies are reflected in the way the Pharisees are portrayed in the New Testament.
Another group often mentioned in the New Testament in connection with the Pharisees are the Teachers of the Law. Here we are dealing with a very different group of people. While the Pharisees were a kind of revival movement, ‘Teacher of the Law’ is a professional term. The Teachers of the Law were authoritative professional interpreters of the Torah.
The Sadducees
Only sparse information has been preserved concerning the Sadducees, and none of it is impartial; most of the information comes from their opponents. In the traditional view the Sadducees were from the Hellenized Jewish upper class, which supported stable conditions and the prevailing social order, and whose religion was reasonable and worldly. The Sadducees did not, for example, believe in life after death.
The name of the Sadducees is believed to derive from the family of Zadok, the high priest who served as high priest in the days of King David. Not all the Sadducees were priests, however, and their number included other aristocrats. On the other hand, evidently only a small minority of the upper class were Sadducees.
The Essenes
The Essenes are not mentioned in the New Testament; the information concerning them is derived from other sources. Since 1947 manuscript and archaeological discoveries have been made at Qumran on the north-west shore of the Dead Sea, and they are thought to derive from the Essenes who dwelt there.
The Essenes were a protest movement which withdrew from the world. They believed that the high priest of the Jerusalem Temple was elected on false pretences, which invalidated the whole Temple cult. In addition, the calendar used by the Essenes and their way of interpreting and observing the Law of Moses differed from the rest of Judaism.
The Essene community of Qumran saw itself as the only true Israel, “children of light” as distinct from the “children of darkness” and their corrupt religious practices. The members of the community lived a disciplined life dictated by the regulations and a strict system of values. At the same time they – like many of their contemporaries – expected that God would soon intervene in the course of history in a decisive manner.
The Qumran Discoveries
(Summary; original Sarianna Metso/Helsinki University Press 1997.)
The Qumran discoveries were made at the north-western end of the Dead Sea in the years 1947-56. In eleven caves in the desert there were found manuscripts of the Old Testament, other religious texts and the writings of the religious group who lived at Qumran: rules of the community, liturgical texts and doctrinal material. The texts written on leather and papyrus scrolls were in the Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek languages. Some of the manuscripts were carefully packed in clay jars; most, however, were lying on the floors of the caves, at the mercy of damp and worms.
In the vicinity of the caves were excavated ruins of a group of buildings covering an area of 100 x 80 metres. The first of these was built in about 150 B.C. The main building contained assembly and work rooms and had a two-storey stone tower. Water collected from high up in the mountains was stored in large rainwater storage containers and tanks. Some tanks were used for ritual bathing. In the area was also found a large cemetery containing over a thousand graves. The manuscripts were evidently concealed in the caves for fear of discovery by Roman soldiers. The Roman army destroyed the settlement in 68 A.D.
The oldest manuscripts found at Qumran were fragments of Old Testament manuscript copies from the third century B.C. The majority of the manuscripts, however, date from the two centuries preceding the turn of the era and the first century following it, that is, the time when the group that wrote and copied the scrolls lived at Qumran.
The number of texts found is over two hundred. Many of the scrolls are, however, so badly damaged that only odd fragments are left.
(For further information about this subject see http://metalab.unc.edu/expo/deadsea.scrolls.exhibit/intro.html)
The Zealots
The Zealots (Greek zelotes, ‘zealot’) was a general term for a person who was zealous for a cause, in particular for the religious group he belonged to. One of Jesus’ twelve disciples was a Simon who bore this nickname.
Later the name Zealots came to refer to a rebel organization which supported armed resistance to Rome. This group only became a united, recognizable party just before the Jewish War.
The Jewish Diaspora
Diaspora means ‘dispersion’. The term was used of Jewish communities living outside Palestine.
At the beginning of the Christian era there were Jews living all over the Roman Empire and in the East beyond the frontiers of the Empire. They lived in the country and in the towns, and they came from all social classes and professions. Their customs were known everywhere, even if they were not always regarded favourably. On the other hand, their strict monotheism and high moral standards attracted many, and they often had influential patrons.
Sometimes non-Jews joined the Jewish community. Those who converted and became full members were called proselytes. Becoming a member was preceded by ritual purification (baptism) and in the case of male proselytes by circumcision. At the same time the newcomers committed themselves to observing the commands of the Torah. This was a great deal to ask, and the number of proselytes remained fairly small.
“God-fearers” was the name for non-Jews who instead of becoming proselytes were satisfied with observing the Jewish way of life and taking part in the life of the Jewish community as far as it was possible. This group later become fertile ground for early Christian missionary work.
Diaspora Jews also met in synagogues, the size and manner of construction of which depended on the resources of the community. In large towns there might be several. The head of the synagogue was the spiritual leader and senior teacher of the community. Temporal matters were looked after by the council of elders, the secretary acting as bookkeeper and correspondent. The synagogue servant was responsible for maintaining the property and for keeping order and if necessary he led the prayers.
Besides being a place of worship the synagogue had a Torah school. The synagogue also functioned as a communal meeting-place and as somewhere where people from various professions could meet together.
Graeco-Roman society set its members certain obligations, not all of which could be fulfilled by Torah-observant Jews. Thus they were granted exemptions, for instance in relation to the cult of the emperor and service in the army.
The Purity and Holiness Code
Regulations concerning purity and holiness are found in many cultures in different parts of the world. The terms ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’ did not then refer to cleanliness and getting dirty in the present sense of the words. Rather it was a question of the kind of actions, substances, matters, objects and places which it was desired to place out of bounds for the community.
In early Judaism attitudes towards the purity and holiness code contained in the Torah or Law of Moses varied: in the Diaspora, Jews were more liberal-minded than in Palestine, among the Pharisees and Essenes stricter than outside these groups. In any case the purity code seems to have grown in importance as the beginning of the Christian era approached.
According to the Torah, a person became unclean if he or she touched something unclean. As long as he or she was unclean he or she was not allowed to come in contact with clean people or objects. In some cases uncleanness disappeared by itself after a determined period of time had elapsed; sometimes to become clean one was required to offer a sacrifice and/or perform ritual washing. Typical sources of uncleanness were bodily secretions, corpses, unclean animals and wrongly prepared food.
Holiness, too, was based on being untouched. If the holy and unclean came into contact, one or other ceased to exist: the holy became unholy or it destroyed the unclean thing. Therefore the holy had to be separated from the areas of everyday life that were susceptible to uncleanness so as to form an area of its own. This might happen in several different ways.
The way of protecting holiness might be a time-limit: feast-days such as the Sabbath and the annual festivals were sanctified by excluding everyday activities such as work. This made it possible to observe rites that demanded holiness at these times.
The boundary might be one of space. The holiest was in the heart of numerous concentric boundaries: Israel is a holy land, the holiest place of which is Jerusalem, the holiest place of which is Mount Zion, the holiest place of which is the Temple, the holiest place of which is the Holy of Holies.
Further, the boundary might be between people. Israel was a holy people, which was distinguished from the Gentiles by the fact that Israel observed the Law of God. The concrete manifestations of this obedience were male circumcision, the dietary rules and the observance of the Sabbath. The holiness of the priests was to be greater than that of the ordinary people. One of the characteristic features of the Pharisees was that they endeavoured to observe the purity code of the priests.
In general purity and holiness codes have a tendency to be reinforced when the identity of the community is threatened. Boundaries remind the members of the community who they are. For the same reason the purity and holiness code played an important part when Christianity diverged from Judaism. When the principal external identifying features of Judaism were no longer required for membership in the community, Judaism was left behind. Christianity had become an independent movement.
The Temple
The Temple was the most important symbol of the Jewish people, the centre of life, where the national, the cultural, the religious and the political were fused.
The first Jerusalem Temple was built by King Solomon. The Babylonians destroyed it in 587 B.C. At the same time the upper classes of the kingdom of Judah were exiled to Babylon.
After conquering the Babylonian Empire, Cyrus, the king of Persia, granted the Jews permission to return to their homeland and build a new temple. Five hundred years later King Herod initiated a massive rebuilding project, the aim of which was to restore the splendour of Solomon’s Temple. The Temple was dedicated in 18 B.C., but the project was only completed in the 60s A.D. Its size and beauty were widely known, but it was destroyed in the turmoil of the Jewish War in 70 A.D.
A new temple could no longer be built because the Jews were expelled from Palestine half a century later. Today the site is occupied by mosques, so both archaeological excavations and the construction of a new temple are impossible. All that remains is a section of the Temple wall, the so-called ‘Wailing Wall’.
The outer court of Herod’s Temple was called the ‘Court of the Gentiles’. Inside it was the Temple area, divided off by a wall, to which all but Jews were forbidden entry on pain of death.
The outer part of the Temple area proper was the ‘Court of the Women’, then the ‘Court of the Men’. Only priests were permitted to proceed further, to the altar. On this altar were performed the daily animal sacrifices.
The inner vestibule of the Temple was called ‘holy’. Here were the seven-branched candlestick, the table of the shewbread and the altar. The ‘holy’ was divided from the ‘holy of holies’ by a curtain, inside which the high priest was allowed to go once a year, on the Day of Atonement, to offer a sacrifice for the whole people.
In the outmost court of the Temple were traders, from whom pilgrims who had travelled from afar might purchase sacrificial animals. The money-changers exchanged foreign currency for silver shekels, with which the Temple tax and the price of the sacrificial animal were paid.
In the Temple area was also the Antonia Fortress, one of Herod’s palaces, which was located in the north-west corner of the area. From the fortress it was possible to maintain order in the Temple, especially during Passover. It may have been in the Antonia Fortress that Pontius Pilate sentenced Jesus to be crucified.
In the Temple there served both priests and Levites. The latter did not participate in the sacrificial cult but took care of the music, guarding and cleaning of the Temple.
The Temple Sacrifices
(Summary; original © Tuomas Rasimus 1998.)
The priests offered numerous sacrifices in the Temple every day, since the Law of Moses obliged Jews to purify themselves and atone for their sins by offering a sacrifice. In addition, thanksgiving offerings were sacrificed. The victim might be a sheep or a dove; flour and wine might also be offered as a sacrifice. In addition to the sacrifices brought by individuals, communal sacrifices were offered every day in the Temple.
· An example of the sacrifice of a sheep
The animal’s throat was slit and the blood was collected in a bowl for throwing on the altar. The animal was skinned and the fat was burnt in the fire on the altar. The hide and part of the meat was put to one side, for the priests gained their living from the sacrifices during their term of service in the Temple. The rest of the meat was given to the person who brought the offering. He left the Temple to eat it with his friends and family.
A burnt offering was an offering which was burnt whole in the fire on the altar (the blood and hide were removed before the offering was burnt). Because the sacrificial animal had to be flawless, it was most convenient to buy it in the Temple. The pilgrim who came from afar took a substantial risk in bringing the sacrificial victim with him, for it might injure itself on the journey and no longer be fit to be sacrificed.
The Synagogue
Both in villages and in towns the Jews gathered for worship in the synagogue, where other community matters were also dealt with. The synagogue was the place for trials, teaching, care of the poor and accommodation of Jews from elsewhere. In the synagogue the first Christians, too, preached their message, and the activities of the synagogue offered a model for the first Christian communities.
Prayerand the Gospel parables
30 November, 1999
Wilfrid Harrington OP examines some Gospel parables which are centred on the theme of prayer and sees what lessons we can draw from them.
The Israelite was a person of prayer – the Old Testament evidence is impressive, compelling. It is to be expected that among the new people of God prayer will have a central place. Jesus himself prayed to the Father, prayed out of his dependence and his need. Jesus taught us to pray, taught us how to turn in trust, to an Abba. Jesus prayed: and there is example. We pray: and there is response. It is to be expected that not a few of Jesus’ parables have to do with prayer.
Friend at midnight and unjust judge (Luke 11:5-8; 18:1-8)
It has long been recognised that women figure more frequently in Luke than in the other gospels. Twice he has parallel parables, for men and women: Lost Sheep/Lost Coin (15:4-7, 8-10); and here, 11:5-8; 18:1-8. The Friend at Midnight is peculiar to Luke. In the context of Lk n:I-13, a synthesis of Jesus’ teaching on prayer, the parable has to do with persevering prayer. Originally, in the setting of Jesus’ ministry, the parable would have made its point through the conduct of the one who is being importuned. Verses 5-7 should be regarded as one rhetorical question: ‘Can you imagine that if one of you had a friend, and he should come to you at midnight and say to you, “Friend, lend me three loaves, for a friend of mine on a journey has come to me and I have nothing to set before him”, that you would answer, “Go away and leave me in peace” -can you imagine that?’ The answer must be an indignant denial: ‘Impossible! Of course not!’ In that case, Jesus tells his hearers, you cannot imagine that God will reject the plea of one who calls upon him. With the suggestion that God might, in any way, be like this boor (‘Do not bother me’) we are in line with the daring familiarity we find in Jeremiah and Job and elsewhere in the Old Testament.
In Luke’s setting the focus is on the one who pleads. He has come, in need, to a friend. The situation was urgent. A friend had called unexpectedly, and he must be given hospitality. The other friend, though roused from sleep at midnight, ought to have appreciated the gravity of the situation. In the interest of the story he showed himself insensitive to the normal eastern feeling for the claim of hospitality. Very well, let the pleader keep up his pestering; he will be given what he wants if only to get rid of him! When we recall that this is a teaching on prayer to God we can savour, also in this new setting, the daring of it. Even when the emphasis is switched to perseverance, the implication is still there that God is one who must be worn down. And the Christian should take heart from the fact that the Lord could present such a visage of the Father, if only to insist that he is wholly other.
Luke makes clear his understanding of the parable of the Unjust Judge – also proper to him (18:1-8): the disciples should pray at all times and persevere in it (see 1 Thes 5:17). In reality, like the Friend at Midnight, the parable originally had a different emphasis. The judge is, in v.6, characterised as unjust; the Old Testament refers often to the helpless widow. It is implied that the widow has right on her side, but this judge was not interested in the rights of a penniless plaintiff. If he is to give a judgement in favour of anybody it has to be made worth his while to do so.
Jesus would have asked his hearers to contemplate, if they would, a God cast in the image of the unjust judge. Could they really imagine that he was remotely like that? The widow, aware that she cannot pay the bribe expected by this venal judge, has no recourse but to pester. If she makes enough of a nuisance of herself he will grant her request merely for the sake of peace and quiet. What a bold picture of prayer to God this is! The parable is rounded off with an a fortiori. If this cynical judge will, in the end, yield to the importunity of the persistent widow, surely it is to be expected that God, who is not a judge at all but a loving parent, will yield to the importunity of his children! He will not delay. As always, the problem is not with the constant God; it is with his inconstant creature. Is there the faith that will support this confident and persevering prayer (v.8)? Each Christian must answer for herself or himself.
The Pharisee and the tax collector
(Luke 18:9-14)
The parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector does fit neatly into the ministry of Jesus. Both characters are drawn from life: the righteous one and the outcast. And the parable is spoken as a warning to the righteous (Lk 18:9). So often the Pharisee of this parable has been called a hypocrite. It is an error which clouds the pathos of the parable and blunts its impact. The sad fact is that the man is sincere and his claims are true. He is scrupulously honest, a faithful family man, a meticulous observer of the Law (as the tax collector by definition is not). The law enjoined only one fast a year (on the Day of Atonement) but he, a pious Pharisee, fasts each Monday and Thursday. And, far beyond the demands of the Law, he gives a tenth of all his income. He is sincerely convinced that he stands right with God. After all, he has done what he ought to do, and more. He can truly thank God that he is not like other people. The snag is that his ‘prayer’ is not prayer at all. That is why it is not heard.
It is this sort of person and this attitude Paul has in mind in Galatians and Romans. He has seen with clarity (for he, too, had been a convinced Pharisee) that one for whom the heart of religion is observance may feel that one can earn salvation. What one must avoid and must do is clear. If one is faithful, then a just God cannot but justify one. Such an attitude blunts the fact that salvation is gift. That is why the Pharisee could not recognise God’s gracious gift in Jesus. And it is because the ‘sinner’ had no such illusion that he could instinctively see the gift for what it was. There is nothing mysterious in the fact that Jesus was a ‘friend’ of tax collectors and sinners’ nor that this was scandal to the’ righteous’.
It is important to realise that, in the gospels, the Pharisees, for historical and polemical reasons, get a bad press. They are cast as legalistic rigorists with little respect for people, with contempt for ordinary folk. This is less than fair. Paul was proud of his pharisaic past (Phil 3:5). But he had come to recognise the danger that observance might become a way of earning salvation.
There is wry point to the story of the good lady who, after a Sunday morning homily on our parable, was heard to remark: ‘Thank God, I am not like that Pharisee.’ For ‘pharisaism’ is not only a late Jewish phenomenon. It is endemic in the Christian Church and has proved a hardy growth. The self-righteous Christian is not a rarity. Regular churchgoing and certain pious practices may seem to set one apart and guarantee salvation. Always, of course, it is a case of ‘these you ought to have practised, without neglecting the others’ -but the ‘weightier matters’ of justice, mercy and faith are what religion is about (Mt 23:23-24).
The tax collector was a man bereft of hope, though not without faith. He had been robbed of hope by the righteous, so thoroughly branded an outcast that he had come to regard himself as such. If salvation depended on meticulous observance of the Law, as the Pharisees maintained, then he had no chance at all. But he cannot bring himself to accept that God is like that. Hoping against hope, he dared to come to the temple of God. And his prayer is the most moving of prayers. It is a prayer that should sound an echo in our hearts, a prayer that should spring, unbidden, to our lips: ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner.’ This is the prayer that God listens to and answers – ‘this man went down to his home justified.’ The second half of v.I4 (‘for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted’) explicitly lifts this parable out of the ministry of Jesus, away from any narrow conflict of Pharisee and tax collector, and turns it into a lesson for Everyman.
The unmerciful servant
(Matthew 18:23-35)
Prayer is an indispensable feature of Christian life. But it is truly prayer only when it finds issue in Christian praxis. The tax collector had prayed: ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner’ (Lk 18:13). That is not the end of the matter. Just as Ben Sirach regards the forgiveness of our neighbour as crucially important for right relationship with God (‘If one has no mercy toward another like oneself, can one then seek pardon for one’s own sins?’ – Sir 28:4), so Matthew underlines its significance for the early Church. Our passage forms the conclusion of his ‘community discourse’ (chapter 18). Though he had to face the uncomfortable fact that an unrepentant brother or sister might have to be excluded from the community (Mt 18:15-20) he wants to ensure that his word on relationships within the community will end on the resounding note of forgiveness.
Peter had suggested that if a brother were to offend him he would be prepared to forgive up to seven times. Jesus rather deflated him by declaring forgiveness to be wholly open-ended (‘seventy times seven’, 18:21-22). The point is driven home by the parable 18:23-34. The disparity between the two sums mentioned in the parable is gigantic – ten thousand talents is an almost unimaginable sum. A debt impossible of payment is written off almost casually, by the king, and the man was not even sacked. Yet, one who had been shown such mercy cannot find it in his heart to remit a paltry debt. Not only that, he will not even give his fellow servant – his social equal – reasonable time and opportunity to repay.
The parable is a thinly-veiled allegory. The ‘servant’ is the sinner; his situation is hopeless. The ‘king’ is a merciful God who freely and lovingly forgives any sin. Luke has painted the warmer picture of a prodigal Father and wayward child (Lk 15=11-24). The reality is the same in either case. Like the younger son in the Lucan parable this man, too, is forgiven with no strings attached. Faced with a cry of desperation the gracious God was moved with pity (Mt 18:27). But when the recipient of such forgiveness cannot find it in his heart to be merciful, the master is angry (18:34). Response to God’s gracious forgiveness cannot be payment of a debt that is already fully remitted. It is, instead, warm thanksgiving for the blessing of such forgiving love. And the story in Matthew underlines again that sin, as God regards it, is man’s inhumanity to man – whatever shape that may take. Our abuse of others (and of ourselves) is an affront to the loving Father who counts us as his children. Jesus clearly understood this because he knew his Father.
It is no surprise, then, that Jesus linked prayer and forgiveness: ‘Whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone; so that your Father in heaven may also forgive you your trespasses'(Mk 11:25). An unforgiving spirit raises a barrier to mercy. Salvation is a gift, freely and lovingly offered. The only proviso is that one be willing to receive. And one who will not extend mercy does not recognise mercy for what it is. To put it another way, one who will not forgive has not understood God’s forgiveness – has not really known God. How can one truly pray to a God one does not know?
Answer
He could no longer bear
The aggression of sparrows,
The din of crows in the trees;
And no pity remained in his heart
For the starlings tcheering on the lawn,
Unkempt and hungry after their journey.
He began to berate the God of Birds
Until walking by the sea at Kilcoole,
Two swans came towards him,
White and suddenly on the water.
– Pádraig J. Daly