Chapter Three Final

Chapter THREE

FROM GALILEE TO THIS PLACE:

NARRATIVE AND THEOLOGICAL COHERENCE

IN THE GOSPEL OF LUKE

In the trial of Jesus as found in Luke-Acts, the fourth and final charge brought before Pilate by the temple leadership embraces the entire sweep of Jesus’ ministry, from its beginning in the region of Galilee to its consummation in the Jerusalem temple: “He stirs up the people by teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee where he began even to this place” (23:5). This charge, which is unique to Luke’s Gospel, succinctly encompasses the influence and breadth of Jesus’ ministry while also highlighting its coherent orientation and telos as one of movement toward Jerusalem and the temple. Though the city of Jerusalem is implied in Jesus’ movements, given the fact that Luke only narrates Jesus’ entrance into the temple rather than the city, the controversy and conflict generated by Jesus’ temple ministry, and the fact that it is the temple leadership bringing these charges, the temple itself would seem to be in sharpest focus in this accusation.[1] This charge by the temple leadership, then, serves as a retrospective reference point for an interpretive grasp of a large portion of Luke’s narrativeóthat portion which shall be the focus of our thematic overview in this chapter.[2]

While it may be less than immediately apparent how or why Jerusalem and the temple should serve as a point of reference and orientation for such a large amount of Luke’s Gospel, the majority of which is set at some geographical distance from these settings, when we remember its role as a sacred center, its far reaching influence is more readily understood; its importance as a sacred center is not its size but its influence. “Geometrically, a center is defined not by magnitude, but by position. What makes some centers bigger or more influential is not their symbolic structure, but the radius of the world they hold together” (D. Eck 1987, 5-6).[3] Moreover, Luke 1-2 has already created expectations in Luke’s readers for the continuing interpretive relevance of the temple for understanding the entirety of Luke’s narrative.

In this chapter, then, we shall take our cues from Luke’s provision of illuminating reference points and explore the various ways Luke’s Gospel establishes narrative and theological coherence by its orientation vis-‡-vis Israel’s sacred center. In so doing we shall build upon our understanding of the interpretive function of Luke 1-2 in order to address a range of questions, particularly those concerning how its discursive fields of sacred space and figural actions of transposition and displacement establish readerly expectations for a transformed understanding of the temple and provide an interpretive lens for Luke’s Gospel.

Focusing broadly we may ask, What is the relationship between Luke’s narrative investment in issues of sacred space and temple settings in Luke 1-2 and the various sections of the Gospel which follow? First, how does Luke 1-2 effect a reading of the immediately following scenes of transition to the ministries of John and Jesus (3:1-4:13)? Next, what role do these issues play in the ministry of Jesus outside Jerusalem, such as Jesus’ extended ministry in Luke 4:14-19:28, where issues of sacred space are less overt? Finally, in what sense are these themes further developed in the final Jerusalem ministry with which Luke’s Gospel concludes (19:28-24:53)? What is the relationship between the shape and character of Jesus’ ministry and of his death?

John and Jesus in the Wilderness: Luke 3:1-4:13

We may address our first question concerning how the Infancy Narrative—its discursive fields and figural action—shapes a reading of what follows in several ways. First, speaking most generally, we may again in this chapter employ insights drawn from discourse analysis. In their treatise on discourse theory, Gillian Brown and George Yule discuss linearisation or how material located at the beginning of any discourse invariably influences how the remainder of that discourse is processed and interpreted. Such initial discourse segments, they contend, lay out the ground rules, in a sense, providing an interpretive focus and constituting “the initial context for everything that follows” (1983, 125-26). The remaining discourse which follows, then, is processed through the primary patterns and categories which are established in this inaugural discourse segment.[4]

In reading the Gospel of Luke, then, the transition to the ministries of John and Jesus in Luke 3:1-4:13 is “processed” by Luke’s audience against the patterns and categories of Luke 1-2, which forms its immediate contextual background. This is significant for an understanding of Luke 3:1-4:13 in two ways. First, in terms of primary discursive patterns, we may note that the parallel development of John and Jesus continues in this section. As in the Infancy Narrative, Luke continues to underscore the interrelated nature and parallel development of the storylines of John and Jesus. However, Luke is not following a strict chronological order. He gives a representative and summary account of the entirety of John’s ministry up until his imprisonment (Luke 3:1-20) and only then does Luke take up the account of Jesus’ ministry.[5] Within Luke’s narrative order John, in effect, is removed from the stage prior to Jesus’ entrance. Later references to John are more tangential, and of interest only as they intersect and further our understanding of Jesus’ ministry (cf., e.g., Luke 5:33; 7:18-35; 9:7-9, 18-20; 11:1; 16:16; 20:1-8).[6] In a sense, then, the parallel segment of Luke’s narrative which would encompass Jesus’ ministry would not just be 3:21-4:13, but 3:21-24:53.[7] Hence, the structure of Luke’s parallel storylines influences how one interprets the entirety of Jesus’ ministry, that which constitutes the balance of Luke’s Gospel.

Second, in terms of inaugural discursive categories, it is important to note that, while Jerusalem and the temple have dominated Luke 1-2 as the deictic center, in Luke 3:1-4:13 this center shifts to the wildernessóthe opposite pole in terms of sacred space, standing in a creative, dialectical tension with the temple. As noted within the Infancy Narrative, this context is strategically located in Luke’s discursive fields and plays an important role in the overall structure of Luke 1-2. Many of the themes which were foreshadowed or inaugurated around the deictic center of the temple are developed further in this section which is centered in the wilderness:[8]

1. The multitudes which were initially related to the temple (1:10) are now associated with wilderness, “coming out” (ejkporeuomevnoi") to be baptized (3:7).

1. The conspicuous role of the Sprit (1:15, 35, 41, 67; 2:25-27) continues in the wilderness (3:16, 22; 4:1, [14]).

1. The prominent theme of prayer in temple settings (Luke 1:10, 13; 2:37) now plays an important role at Jesus’ baptism in the wilderness as well (3:21).

1. Instruction through questions and answers which took place in the temple (2:46-47) also takes place in the wilderness (3:7-17).

1. Divine witness and attestation concerning the significance of John and Jesus, which had previously come through the agency of angels and Spirit inspired utterance in the Infancy Narrative (1:26-38; 39-55, 67-77; 2:8-20, 25-35, 36-39), now occurs in the wilderness by John (3:15-17) and through direct Spirit attestation and Divine proclamation (3:21-22).

1. The theme of universalism suggested in the Infancy Narrative (2:1-2, 10-14) and most clearly announced in the temple (2:30-34) is further developed in the wilderness through the citation of Isaiah 40:3-5 (Luke 3:4-5), Jesus’ solidarity with all the people in baptism (3:21-22), and the inclusive nature of his genealogy (3:23-38).

1. Sonship also continues as a topic of thematic development, initially signaled by the introduction of John as the “son of Zechariah” (3:2). Jesus is also introduced in terms of the Infancy Narrative’s appellation as God’s son (1:35; 3:22). This theme is underscored by the testimony of the voice from heaven (3:23), the structure of the genealogy which is bracketed by references to Jesus’ divine origins (3:23, 38) and the repeated challenges in the diabolic testing which Jesus immediately undergoes (4:3, 9).[9]

In what ways, then, are these themes which are introduced in Luke 1-2 furthered in Luke 3:1-4:13? We suggest that this question is best addressed by focusing on the setting of the wilderness itself: (1) in relation to Luke’s developing discursive fields oriented around sacred space and (2) as the new deictic center of the story. As one of two antithetical poles within the spectrum of sacred space, the significance of the wilderness is derived from its relation to and complex interplay with its opposite pole at the sacred center, the Jerusalem temple. Few if any accounts of this section of Luke’s Gospel deal with the setting of the wilderness beyond its purely geographical significance or theological and literary extrapolations based on geographical meaning. Conzelmann for instance emphasizes its role in terms of the geographical separation of the ministries of John and Jesus (1960, 18). However, even geography is permeated with social significance and constitutes a cultural construct.[10] The meaning of the wilderness, then, is interwoven with the webs of significance which radiate from Jerusalem as a sacred center. Moreover, given the Infancy Narrative’s role in announcing the advent of God’s promised salvation and creating readerly expectations concerning the surprising and contested manner in which these promises shall come to pass, the further development of these themes may suggest that, with the manifestation of John in the wilderness, God’s promised salvation is already being manifest. That which was introduced as a possibility in the Infancy Narrative is now being actualized.

Salvation, however, is not being actualized in Jerusalem or the temple, the center of Israel’s social and symbolic universe. Rather, salvation is actualized in the wilderness, the realm of the unknown, beyond the ordering cosmic center, standing as a threat to its structures (cf. Levenson 1985, 23). As previously suggested, God’s saving purpose initiated in the wilderness takes on its significance within Luke’s discursive fields. As was the case in Luke 1-2, where revelations foreshadowing God’s salvation were received by such socially marginal individuals as Mary and shepherds, so here, the structural function of center and periphery furthers the theme of God’s saving purposes actualized beyond proscribed boundaries. This oppositional relationship is underscored, then, not only by how these passages continue the parallel development of Luke 1-2, but also in how they advance narrative themes already encountered. Though the context of the wilderness is not without its own significant history (cf. W. J. Heard 1992, 691-93), within the immediate context of Luke 1-2 and its discursive structures, it has already been underscored as standing in a position of opposition to Israel’s institutional center. The conflict laden juxtaposition of these locales is reinforced by the oppositional relationship between institutional leaders and John.

We may infer from Luke’s introduction to this scene (Luke 3:1-2) the contrast between political and religious rulers and God’s prophet, John the son of Zechariah,[11] located in the wilderness.[12] Juxtaposed with this notable list of leaders is God’s prophet who receives God’s word in the wilderness. In Luke’s narrative, John’s story has progressed from the heart of the temple (1:7-37) to the wilderness (1:80), thereby creating narrative possibilities concerning the transformation of the institution and a broadened understanding of the people of God. Like the good news of Jesus’ birth which was proclaimed to marginal shepherds, bypassing those in power (2:1-2, 8-20), so here the word of God comes in the wilderness, bypassing the religious leaders, far from the sacred center from which they derive their authority. Mary’s song (1:46-55) has already predisposed readers toward a negative assessment of rulers and those in authority in Luke’s narrative world; here we may recognize that God is effecting the sort of salvation by social transposition celebrated in her song: “He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly” (Luke 1:52).

Luke furthers this negative characterization of those in institutional authority is tied to the temple by how he introduces this scene. In the Luke 1-2 each of the two major panels of Luke’s parallel structure of annunciations (1:5-56) and births (1:57-2:52) contain references to rulers (1:5; 2:1-2). Though such introductions have a rich biblical heritage in introducing God’s prophets,[13] given the character of the rule of Rome and its vassals, they also function in the present context to evoke a climate of opposition and conflict. Indeed, the storylines of John and Jesus are each interwoven at key points with reference to Jewish and Gentile rulers who figure prominently in their deaths (1:5a; 2:1; cf. 9:7-9; 13:32-33; 20:20-26; 23:2). With the introduction of this third section of parallels between John and Jesus (3:1-2a), we find a combination of the first two introductions: a Roman Caesar and a Herodian ruler,[14] an elaboration with the inclusion of Pilate, Philip and Lysanius, as well as an expansion into the realm of religious rulers with the reference to Anna and Caiaphas. This three-step progression of introductions, then, disposes Luke’s readers to understand the temple leaders as in company with the enemies of God’s people and in opposition to that which God is inaugurating in the wilderness. Indeed, the entire assembly of those who will play crucial roles in the trial and death of Jesus are gathered together here proleptically at the outset of the story (cf. Luke 22:52, 66; 23:1-4, 6-12, 13-16; 24:20; Acts 3:13, 17; 13:27). The adversarial nature of such rulers is underscored at the close of this section, at the penultimate temptation of Jesus with the reference to all the kingdoms of the empire (basileiva" th'" oijkoumevnh" cf. L. T. Johnson 1991, 74; H. Sch¸rmann 1984, 210) as being under the control of the devil and those to whom he would grant authority (4:5).

Furthermore, by introducing two high-priests, Annas and Caiaphas, in relation to the singular office of high priesthood, Luke underscores not the individuals themselves, but rather the power which they wield through the office.[15] In this sense Luke continues his pattern introduced in the Infancy Narrative of focusing on individuals as representative of competing powers and influence over against God’s purpose. Indeed, within the realm of Jewish religious authority the power of this office is uncontested.[16] Moreover, that which goes on in the wilderness is not beyond the scrutiny of those at the center.[17] For this reason Israel has a history of those who lead others into the wilderness as a prophetic act against Jerusalem.[18] The community at Qumran, for example, envisioned themselves as living out a present dimension of God’s salvation in the locale of the wilderness, over against Jerusalem.[19]

Moving out into the wilderness, then, is a statement to the institutional center, a threat to those in institutional authority, Herod and the high-priesthood in particular being implicated in this context. This threat to the existing power structures is then underscored by Luke’s chronological prolepsis to the imprisonment of John by Herod (3:19-20).[20] In this sense the wilderness retains its function in Israel’s symbolic universe as a dangerous realm which may threaten existing structures.[21] Luke has located the wilderness within discursive fields which set it in opposition to the sacred space of the Jerusalem temple even as the wilderness originally stood over against the onerous rule of Egypt. Because of the constellation of images in the wilderness, the association with the region of the Jordan, and the reinforcement of the Isaiah citation, Luke underscores the wilderness as a liberating and transformative context even as it was at the Exodus. In doing this, Luke extends a stream of prophetic tradition which emphasizes this positive dimension of the wilderness.[22]

Luke’s narrative, then, reprises the experience of Israel at the Exodus, as does the Isaiah text which Luke cites, advancing Luke’s theme of a liberated and transformed people. Luke has prepared for understanding the figural movement to the wilderness in this fashion in that both Mary’s and Zechariah’s songs have included an accumulation of salvation language which evokes themes from the Exodus (Luke 1: 49, 47, 51, 68, 71, 74; cf. Exod 6:6;15:16; Ps 44:3; 77:15; 89 10-13, 21).[23]

Unlike the Exodus or the presence of the Qumran community in the wilderness, however, God’s manifestation in the wilderness does not, as yet, suggest a complete withdrawal or rejection of the sacred center. It does however lay a foundation for its transcendence in the interest of a more universal and inclusive salvationóa decentering, in effect, has already occurred. The wilderness, then, receives sanction within Luke’s narrative as the sphere of God’s activity, suggesting a context of creative possibilities for the people who are entering this space, possibilities for a new transformed people of God.

The foundation for such an understanding has been prepared for by the dialectical relationship which exists between the settings of Luke’s opening chapters. Within the discursive fields that Luke has established in Luke 1-2 and against the background of oppositional locales of temple and wilderness, the movement of the crowds out into the wilderness of chaotic unstructured space is significant. As suggested in Chapter Two in relation to the movement of John’s storyline, it is both an anti-structural and a liminal space.[24] In the present context of Luke 3:1-4:13 it also represents these potentialities. It is anti-structural because it is beyond the control of any rulers and institutional authority, an aspect which is of immediate relevance to how this section is introduced (3:1-3).

Luke draws upon this space, then, to further engage the issue of the horizontal axis of sacred space. The anti-structural nature of this space undermines the socially segregating and divisive power of the social axis of sacred space. This space undermines its capacity to predetermine social roles, status, attitudes and the structures of society. The movement of the multitudes into this space reinforces other actions which have drawn meaning from Luke’s discursive fields and provides a conceptual space for an alternative perspective on the socio-religious makeup of God’s people.

Furthermore, in moving out to the wilderness the storyline of the multitudes intersects with that of John.[25] As we recall, John’s location in the wilderness in Luke 1:80 served both a climactic and proleptic function: climactic to the movement of his storyline in Luke 1-2 and proleptic to how the movement of the entirety of that story points forward to this scene. The plot of John’s story begins in the heart of the Jerusalem temple (1:8-23) and from there moves outward in centrifugal fashion. Previews of John’s ministry in Luke 1-2 (e.g., 1:8-23, 67-80) have suggested that it would be one of preparation and liberation of God’s people through the forgiveness of their sins and that this will not come about through inherited priestly office or in relation to any cultic mediation. The social unformulatedness of the wilderness provides the context from which God may create such a new people. It is in this sense, then, that we are to understand this scene as one of preparation and transition. Indeed, John functions as transitional figure of a prepared Israel (cf. Darr 1992, 84). The anti-structural nature of the wilderness does not function as the narrative’s telos but as a transition to the establishment of new structures, the creation of a new people and to the story of Jesus.[26]

Because of the dialectical nature of the setting, John’s presence in the wilderness also takes on significance because it is in tension with the familial expectations of John’s father, household, and priestly lineage. It is a symbol that, over against these competing interests, John has aligned himself with God’s purpose. In intersecting with John’s storyline in this locale, the multitudes are also symbolized as moving toward an alignment with God’s purpose. Conversely, as we shall see, those who do not partake of John’s baptism must be construed as rejecting God’s purpose (cf. 7:29-30).

Because people are coming out from society and civilization to the liminal space of the wilderness and undergoing ritual baptism, John’s baptism reflects the symbolism of the space in which the ritual takes place. John continues a prophetic tradition emphasizing repentance and transformed social practices as underscored in the socio-ethical content of his preaching which prepares individuals for reintegration within the structures of a renewed society.[27]

A central aspect of John’s teaching is that participation in this new community is not based in descent, ethnicity or ascription, those sorts of classifications and divisions interposed by the social axis of sacred space.[28] In a society which for the most part defined community status by such canons of ascription, John’s teaching undercuts any understanding of relation by mere descent: action and performance are underscored as a necessary characteristic of Abraham’s offspring (3:7-14).[29] Indeed, being the son of exemplary priestly lineage, the presence of John in the wilderness dramatically underscores this point. God’s saving initiatives and John’s prophetic actions and words in the liminal setting of the wilderness are in tension with the hereditary differentiation and privileged status accorded those who may serve at the cultic center. In contrast to his father, Zechariah, who was largely characterized by his priestly lineage and in cultic terms of privileged access to exclusive regions of the temple (Luke 1:7-23), John is defined by the liminal wilderness setting which effaces such distinctions.[30]

John, however, is not the mere product of natural descent but of God’s intervention in the lives of a barren, sterile couple. As was suggested in the movement in John’s story, his presence in the setting of the barren wilderness evokes his own beginnings, as well as the potential for divine intervention in such a context. We may observe here, once again, a reciprocal relationship which Luke employs between setting and character.

The multitudes, then, who are coming out in response to John, are also characterized by this sterile and barren setting. This dimension is underscored by John’s emphasis on their need for repentance which leads to fruit-bearing (3:8). As witnessed by John’s own miraculous birth to Zechariah and Elizabeth, this is a process into which God may enter. Indeed, what was divinely initiated in Luke’s first temple scene as an answer to the prayers of Zechariah and of the people is now coming to fruition in John’s ministry.[31]

The wilderness receives further sanction through the testimony of scripture in Luke’s citation of Isaiah 40:3-5. Isaiah here underscores the wilderness as the locus of a divine message and messenger.[32] Indeed given that in this setting “all flesh shall see the salvation of God” (Luke 3:6), it is a new locus of divine revelation of universal significance.[33]

The wilderness, then, is yet another context in which Luke’s narrative situates divine revelation. As we have suggested, Luke’s mode of articulation in Luke 1-2 manifests a strategic, progressive disclosure of God’s saving purpose by divine revelation, both through the avenue of the sacred center at Jerusalem, as well as in settings and to recipients of a more marginal status.[34] With the revelation in the wilderness, the setting in which God chooses to reveal his saving plan becomes more overtly in tension with the sacred center. More specifically, because of the universality of this salvific revelation, God’s actions are increasingly in tension with the horizontal axis of sacred space which centers the matrix of purity and holiness in Jerusalem and the temple. Even this development, however, has already been foretold by two temple revelations through Zechariah and Simeon (1:79; 2:29-32). Consequently, revelations in the temple have already sown the seeds of its own transcendence. The locus of God’s revelation in the wilderness, in effect, undermines the exclusive segregating and dividing capacity of this dimension of sacred space while also confirming its revelatory dimension through the fulfillment of earlier prophetic words uttered in the temple.

The liminal space of the wilderness, then, stands over against the socially defining nature of Israel’s sacred center. In this space, lines of demarcation and hierarchy are effaced, as are claims for participation in the covenant community solely on the basis of ethnicity; there is a leveling, as suggested by Luke’s citation of the Isaianic text. It stands as an alternative structuring structure within the conceptual space of Luke’s discursive fields. To repent in this context is to embrace this dimension, to open oneself to God’s creative work, and to the preaching and teaching of John by which God is shaping a new people.

Moreover, in this context the storyline of the multitudes, this new people, intersects with that of Jesus. This is indicated by Jesus’ presence in the wilderness, his action of solidarity in baptism,[35] and by the inclusive nature of Jesus’ genealogy which extends to Adam (3:38).[36] The fact that Luke has chosen to situate his genealogy in the wilderness further emphasizes this inclusive dimension. In this setting Jesus is also anointed with the Spirit, which has already characterized prophetic figures (cf. 1:15; 41, 67; cf. also Acts 2:4; 4:8, 31; 6:3, 5; 7:55; 11:24; 13:29), and it shall also distinguish both his ministry and those of the disciples.[37]

The wilderness also provides the context of Jesus’ initial confrontation with the devil. In Luke’s account, the order of the temptations moves from the wilderness toward their climax at the temple.[38] This pattern has already been stressed as characteristic of Jesus’ storyline in Luke 1-2 which climaxed in the temple and shall be underscored in the Central Section of Luke's Gospel (9:51; 13:32-33; cf. J. Nolland 1989, 181). Indeed, whereas Matthew and Mark leave Jesus in the wilderness (Matt 4:1-11; Mark 1:12-13), Luke leaves Jesus on the pinnacle of the temple in Jerusalem, also establishing a closer connection between the devil and Jerusalem which is reprised at Jesus’ death (cf. D. D. Sylva 1990a, 159).[39] This pattern is then played out in the movement of Jesus’ ministry towards its climax in Jerusalem as depicted in the protracted movement of the central section (9:51-19:27) and summarily noted in the final charge by the temple leaders before Pilate (20:9-19).

The repetition of this pattern of movement toward Jerusalem and the temple, then, sheds additional light on what was already foreshadowed in Luke 1-2 concerning the orientation of Jesus’ ministry and the opposition which it shall provoke (2:34-35). The climax, moreover, suggests that this opposition will not be merely human but diabolical in origin. Because of its functions as a sacred center, the meeting place of the upper and lower worlds, Jerusalem is an appropriate site for battle with such forces (cf. J. Z. Smith 1969, 112, 139; J. D. Levenson 1985, 111-12; R. L. Brawley 1987, 127 -30).[40]

At the temple the devil employs scripture to divert Jesus from fulfilling God’s saving purpose, thereby observing one of his traditional tasks of leading astray.[41] The inadequacy of the devil’s appropriation of scripture foreshadows two significant and related themes which shall be of paramount importance if Jesus is to carry out God’s saving purpose in Jerusalem. First, we may note that Jesus, because of his alignment with God’s purpose, is able to discern the proper interpretation of scripture, and thereby becomes the authoritative interpreter of scripture in Luke’s narrative.[42] Because of the indication that conflict in Jerusalem will center around authoritative interpretation of scripture, the final temptation shapes how one reads the disputations concerning scripture with which Jesus is confronted as he teaches in the temple; that is, the diabolical background of such questions and the underlying activity of Satan in what shall transpire in Jerusalem is already adumbrated in Luke’s narrative.[43]

A second significant point is that, central to a proper view of scripture is the judgment that God’s saving purpose is not served by a premature deliverance from suffering, deliverance such as that offered by the Devil’s interpretation of Psalm 91. Rather, a controlling factor of Luke’s entire scriptural hermeneutic is that “the Christ must suffer” (Luke 24:46; cf. 9:22; 17:25; 22:15; Acts 3:18; 26:23). This reading foreshadows the diabolical influence on those who mock and tempt Jesus to “save himself” at the crucifixion (23:35-36).

Moreover, these conflicts concerning alignment with God’s purpose and correct understanding of the scriptures form a close analogue to Luke’s more indirect critique of the role of the temple. That is, it is only in relation to God’s redemptive purpose for all peoples that Israel’s sacred scriptures and holy institutions can be understood (cf. J. B. Green 1995, 74-75). Even as certain scriptural practices in second temple Judaism such as Sabbath keeping and purity concerns had been increasingly emphasized to function as community boundary and identification markers, so the temple increasingly became more a symbol of division from those on the outside rather than God’s gracious provision of his presence.

This relationship is underscored by Jesus’ ongoing conflict over lawful practices and scriptural interpretation with Pharisees, temple leaders and their scribes, those character groups which embody temple concerns. Indeed, Luke shall point back to the events in the wilderness as the crisis which precipitated this opposition which Jesus faces. That is, it is one’s response or lack of response to John’s message in the wilderness which serves as the dividing line for Israel. In both Luke 7:29-30 and 20:1-8, failure to respond to John’s message of repentance is undestood to determine one’s ability to correctly perceive God’s saving actions through Jesus. As we have noted in Chapter One, those who are singled out in these two texts are those who are most closely identified with the temple ideology and its socially determined divisions of holiness and purity. Those who undergo this process of repentance are prepared to correctly perceive Jesus as God’s messenger; those who do not, continue to stumble in blindness. As was the case with Simeon’s prophecy in the temple (2:34-35), images of good news and God’s broadening salvation are juxtaposed with a failure on the part of some in Israel. Some shall rise and some shall fall and there shall be a sifting of God’s people.

As in all the temple sections, the final segment foreshadows in some way the following temple segment. Accordingly, by Jesus’ successful negotiation of this last temptation, Luke foreshadows the character of Jesus’ final teaching ministry which takes place in the temple, wherein he triumphs over his adversaries by masterful and authoritative interpretation of scripture in accord with God’s purpose. In Luke 3:1-4:13 then, there is a clearer picture developing and a more emphatic prefiguring of opposition and displacement of priestly and teaching figures at the sacred center. Indeed, the transposition in terms of sacred space which frames the Infancy Narrative has been moving toward this point. What was implied at John and Jesus’ birth in terms of the displacement of Jerusalem and its leaders is now foreshadowed more clearly. Both the priests as well as the teachers in the temple are prefigured as displaced the movment of the storylines of John and Jesus. This has been reinforced by Luke’s narrative throughout in all the of status reversals tightly woven into the fabric of the Infancy Narrative.

Moreover, the wilderness itself is focused upon, both as a context in which themes from Luke 1-2 are advanced and as of symbolic importance. Though John’s ministry is completed in this liminal context he continues as an important reference point for the beginning of the good news. His ministry functions as a bridge to Jesus’ ministry and clarifies its nature. Accordingly, Jesus’ storyline recapitulates the movement of Luke 1-2 from periphery to center in such a way that illuminates the twin movements of John and Jesus. This movement will be reprised a third time in the ministry of Jesus which moves from Galilee to the temple. However, Luke’s audience will now interpret this movement through the lens of the first two movements, from liminality to ordering center. Jerusalem will continue to function as a reference point as Jesus, now empowered and certified by the Spirit, actualizes this inclusive ministry of liberation.[44] Furthermore, the specter of intense, indeed, diabolical opposition shall increasingly come into view as he makes his final pilgrimage to Jerusalem and the temple. Hence, the “previews” of salvation in Luke 1-2 are clarified and illuminated in this transitional section as both the character of Jesus’ mission and of the opposition it shall encounter from the sacred center come into sharper focus.

From Nazareth to Jerusalem:

Coherence in Theme, Deixis, and Character in Luke 4:14-19:28

Given that the temple plays such a significant role in both the Infancy Narrative as the deictic center and in the transition to the ministries of John and Jesus as the oppositional center, what role does it play from the beginning of Jesus’ ministry at Nazareth untill he arrives again in Jerusalem? That is, what is the relationship between the Jerusalem settings which frame Luke’s Gospel and the much larger amount of narrative which is framed by this material? Given the narrative investment in discursive fields informed by sacred space in these sections, in what sense do the beginning and ending form a coherent narrative with the middle of Luke’s Gospel? We contend that Luke’s narrative maintains coherence with this material in three ways. (1) It maintains thematic coherence in the manner in which it repeatedly underscores socio-religious issues legitimated by the temple’s divisive social axis which arise in Jesus' ministry in this section. (2) It maintains deictic coherence in how Jerusalem and the temple are kept in view throughout the final journey to Jerusalem (9:51-19:27). (3) It also maintains coherence by underscoring certain negative traits and dispositions of characters vis-‡-vis the temple.

First, in terms of thematic coherence, we shall argue that the temple, as a master symbol in Israel’s symbolic universe, functions as a microcosm for the multiple socio-religious issues which are the focus of Jesus’ ministry, and that Luke has structured his narrative to underscore this fact. However, to account for how a reader processes this information into a coherent whole, we shall appropriate insights of reader response critics, particularly those of derived from Wolfgang Iser (1978),[45] in a brief theoretical excursus.

Methodological Excursus 3: Reading Theory and Luke’s Temple Theme

 The focus of this excursus concerns how the social and cultural norms of a text’s repertoire are “depragmatized” in certain narrative strategies which encourage a readers’ awareness and reflection on select aspects of their social world. This excursus, then, attempts to clarify Luke’s communicative and rhetorical strategy of textually incorporating aspects of his social world in the discursive fields and figural action of his narrative world.

Iser highlights this process through analogies derived from pragmatics and speech act theory. In particular he draws attention to the “pragmatic dimension” of narrative by reference to J. L. Austin’s theory of illocutionary speech acts. In normal conversation, speech acts are dependent upon specific situational contexts and conventions shared by both speaker and hearer. These conventions or frames of reference, which speakers depend on to insure meaning and resolve indeterminacies, Iser calls “normative stability.” He characterizes them as a “vertical structures” because they invoke the “past” or “normative validity” of these conventions for stable meaning. Certain texts call into question this normative validity by disrupting this vertical structure and reorganizing conventions “horizontally,” that is, multiple conventions juxtaposed outside their normal pragmatic framework. This “pragmatic” dimension of a text juxtaposes social conventions “horizontally” in their textual incorporation, outside of their normal social context and combines them in such a way as to imply their interrelation (W. Iser 1978, 61).

This is why we recognize in a novel, for instance, so many of the conventions that reg­ulate our society and culture. But by reorganizing them horizontally, the fictional text brings them before us in unexpected combinations, so that they begin to be stripped of their validity. As a result, these conventions are taken out of their social contexts, deprived of their regulating function, and so become subjects of scrutiny in themselves. (W. Iser 1978, 61)[46]

Put simply, the pragmatic function or illocutionary force of narrative texts is of a nature that promotes readers’ awareness of cultural conventions which they had not been aware of prior. This is accomplished by selectively removing conventions from their normal pragmatic context and, in the process of textual incorporation, “horizontally” arranging and juxtaposing them in new combinations. This textual structure has a performative quality in that it invites an interpretive response as readers begin to grapple with the principal of selection and organization structuring the text.[47] “[I]t makes the reader produce the code governing this selection as the actual meaning of the text. With its horizontal organization of different conventions, and its frustration of established expectation it . . . not only arouses attention but also guides the reader’s approach to the text and elicits responses to it” (W. Iser 1978, 62). This focus on the recodification of prevailing codes and the transformation of the readers’ perspective is crucial for understanding how the Jerusalem temple passages which frame Luke’s narrative shape readers perceptions and establish narrative coherence over the entire narrative, especially Luke 4:14-9:51.

From this perspective, the phenomenology of reading is not primarily an experience of adding to one’s knowledge so much as it is a restructuring of what is already possessed. As we have noted, when social and literary conventions are removed from there normal contexts and arranged “horizontally” the reader is required to “produce the code” governing the selection and arrangement of these conventions in the process of their textual incorporation. This is possible because the narrative is restructuring and relocating the social conventions is not haphazard but is a “coherent deformation,” as Iser puts it. Each deformation of social conventions and cultural expectations falls into a similar pattern, producing a new awareness of these conventions as multiple voices reiterate a similar message from a variety of angles.[48] As we have seen in Luke 1-2 and in the wilderness setting (3:1-4:13), Luke has reiterated a rhetoric of reversal on a number of levels (cf. J. O. York 1991). This pattern occurs most densely in the Infancy Narratives, a context wherein we have underscored how the deictic condensation illicits predictive expansion and the global system of the entire narrative is evoked (cf. M. A. Caws 1985). Moreover, we have also noted that this same pattern continues in a more diffuse manner in the wilderness scenes. This phenomenon of coherent deformation yields two outcomes:

1) through the re-codification of familiar norms, the reader becomes aware for the first time of the familiar context which had governed the application of that norm;

(2) the recodification of the familiar marks a kind of apex in the text, with the familiar sliding back into memory-a memory which does, how­ever, serve to orient the search for the system of equivalences, to the ex­tent that this system must be constituted either in opposition to or in front of the familiar background. (W. Iser 1978, 82)

This process is illustrated in Luke’s narrative, for example, by the fact that those who are marginalized by the multiple socio-religious institutions inscribed in the temple and are peripheral and insignificant on the social maps of the first century become the central focus of the narrative; “sinners” and “tax collectors” become salient and surprising role models.[49] This re-codification initiates a semiotic shift to take place: denotations on one textual level shift to new connotations on another, or to put it another way, signs on one level become signifiers on another level. As readers are forced to produce new codes they become aware of new semiotic potentials or they are constrained to “‘rethink’ their whole arrangement and, ultimately, that of the ‘real­ity’ which they encode” (Hawkes 1977, 143). This is that which we have referred to as “depragmatizing” these social conventions.

Such a concept is vital for understanding the close relationship and overarching coherence between the Lukan temple passages and the other intervening passages which constitute Jesus’ ministry outside of Jerusalem. This phenomenon of coherent deformation has been noted under different titles by a number of literary theorists. For example, Roman Jakobson has referred to this phenomenon as “organized violence committed on ordinary speech” and Terrence Hawkes has termed it the “paradoxical institutionalization of rule-breaking” (Hawkes 1977, 141). In similar fashion, Umberto Eco, commenting from the perspective of semiotics, has described this phenomenon as a “general deviational matrix.” As Eco explains it, a general deviational matrix connects messages together in such a way as to produce a text in which:

(a) many messages, on different levels and planes of the discourse, are ambiguously organized;

(b) these ambiguities are not realized at random but follow a precise design;

(c) both the normal and the ambiguous devices within a given message exert a contextual pressure on both the normal and ambiguous devices within all the others;

(d) the way in which the norms of a given system are offended by one message is the same as that in which the norms of other systems are offended by the various messages that they permit. (Eco 1979, 271)

In Luke’s Gospel this takes place over the course of Jesus’ ministry wherein we find a reiterated pattern of reversal of various social and cultural norms. Passages which manifest this “precise design” or “coherent deformation” would include such examples as the reversal of expectations of blessing and woe (6:20-26); the transposed understandings of a Pharisee and a sinful woman (7:36-50); the exemplary behavior of Samaritans vis-‡-vis Israelites (10:25-37; 17:11-19); the reversal of fortunes of an elder and younger brother (15:11-32); reversals of expected practices in table fellowship (14:7-14); the transposed fates of a rich man and a beggar (16:19-31); the paradoxical relationship between greatness and youth or master and slave (22:24-27); and ultimately the crucifixion and exaltation of Jesus. These are but a few of the “many messages” on different levels and planes of Luke’s narrative which follow the same “precise design” of transposition and bi-polar reversal (cf. J. O. York 1991, 39-163). At each level and at each occurrence the deviation from cultural expectation is realized, reiterated and reinforced in a similar manner.

Moreover, this self-focusing aspect of these reversals in Luke’s discursive structures draws critical attention to and awareness of the social conventions incorporated within the social horizon of the narrative world. That is, their arrangement in Luke’s narrative forms a coherent deformation which prompts a reassessment of social assumptions on the part of Luke’s audience. “[T]he way in which the rules are rearranged on one level will represent the way in which they are rearranged on another. Furthermore, it is the ambiguous arrangement of one level that provokes a reassessment on another” (Eco 1979, 272).

The reader of Luke’s narrative, moreover, has already been given guidance for forming a coherent understanding of his narrative in a number of ways and on a number of such levels. First, in terms of framing as discussed in Chapter Two, the precise design of this “deviational matrix” or “coherent deformation” has already been established within the privileged space of the Infancy Narrative where these sorts of figural transpositions and reversals are most detailed and condensed (e.g., Mary’s Song 1:46-55 or the overarching transposition of John and Jesus). In this setting of intense focus and deictic condensation, readerly perceptions have already been shaped concerning the essence of Luke’s design. As we maintain, Luke 1-2 functions as a metonymy for the larger narrative, intending the whole, prefiguring the kinds of social transpositions one shall encounter in the rest of the narrative.

Second, as we have already asserted, this narrative frame is located in a privileged space; it is the initial span of text which establishes the patterns and categories of the whole. Third is the fact that the temple institution itself functions as a “focusing lens” and “a place of clarification.” A context wherein “static and noise are decreased so that the exchange of information can be increased” (J. Z. Smith (1980, 114). Hence, an institution and a locus incorporated from the social world which replicates on a textual level the function of narrative frames and narrative beginnings. Such redundancy emphatically underscores the key role which Luke’s opening chapters play in the larger narrative.

Fourth, since the temple functions as an embodiment of multiple socio-religious systems inscribed in its very structure and serves as an organizational metaphor for society, it provides ample symbolic raw material for Luke’s focus on the marginalized and excluded which are featured so prominently in Luke’s discursive fields and the figural actions of his transpositions.[50]

And finally, fifth, because the temple functions as a structuring structure, a lens through which people know and construct their world (cf. P. Bourdieu 1991, 164) it suggests an alteration and transformation of the categories of perception. It discloses new perspectives on both the world of the text and for the world in front of the text, that is to say the context of Luke’s audience (cf. P. Ricoeur 1978, 1984-88). In each context it provides categories of knowing and perceiving reality.[51] In this sense the narrative of Luke-Acts is engaged in a monumental struggle concerning the symbolic power of the temple, “a struggle which is inseparably theoretical and practical, over the power of transforming the categories of perception of that world” (P. Bourdieu 1991, 236)

This theme has already been explored in Chapter Two where we outlined how the discursive fields of the Infancy Narrative have repeatedly engaged the semantic domains of imperception, perception and response to divine revelation within contexts of sacred space. And how the transposed movement of the overall pattern of the Infancy Narrative vis-‡-vis domains of sacred space foreground the temple as a topic of thematic development, one which is engaged, according to discourse theory from a transformed perspective.[52]

These discursive fields of imperception and perception are integrated into Luke’s overarching discursive fields of insider/outsider and his rhetorical conventions of reversal: insiders prove imperceptive to divine revelation while outsider prove perceptive and thereby become insiders in Luke’s narrative. In this fashion Luke’s discursive fields provide the overarching “conceptual parameters” which lend coherence to the narrative as a whole, they provide the “conceptual space” within which reflection and fundamental transformation can take place.[53]

In this manner Luke’s narrative articulates a coherent yet transformed vision of the world, one in which cultural and social religious barriers which have marginalized large segments of that society are overturned and broken down. This transformation which is prefigured in Luke 1:5-4:13, those passages which feature so prominently Israel’s symbolic centeróthe Jerusalem temple in its world structuring and segregating capacity, begins to become actualized in Jesus’ ministry to these marginalized segments which figure so prominently in Luke’s narrative (Luke 4:14-19:28).

Geographical and Spatial Deixis

If Luke has provided coherence with his temple emphasis within the conceptual space of his narrative, he has also supplied more immediate and concrete reminders and reference points along the way. As is commonly noted, Luke has structured his narrative with a sensitivity to geographical theology.[54] Luke provides reminders which orient readers along the way to the continuing relevance of and movement toward Jerusalem and the temple.[55]

Because the extended journey to Jerusalem is unique to Luke and evinces a tension between its form and content, it has often been the goal of scholars to prove or disprove the literary structure, dependence, or overriding artistic pattern of the entire section. Though this shall not been our focus here, we would concur with some that the existence of this tension proves insightful concerning Luke’s purpose.

Hans Conzelmann for example, working from a redaction critical framework, posits that Luke breaks up Mark’s outline to include the journey within several suffering announcements (Mark 8:31; 9:31-32.; 10:32-34; Luke 9:22, 44; 17:25; 18:31-33), analyzing the central section as a travel narrative despite the awkward and skimpy nature of the framework. Conzelmann theorized that if Luke included the material as a journey in spite of its awkwardness it must serve an important function within Luke’s schema; the journey is not merely to get to Jerusalem but has a function of its own (H. Conzelmann 1960, 62). Conzelmann framed the answer to this question largely in terms of christology and since then there has been a host of proposals for understanding this section as a coherent whole or as an integral part of Luke’s narrative. However, no scholarly consensus has emerged as yet.[56] Nevertheless, we would underscore that the answer to the meaning of this section must begin with Luke’s slim yet overt framework of a definitive turn toward Jerusalem as the city of Jesus’ destiny as well as the continuing references to the sacred center which pepper this section. Our emphasis, then, is Luke’s reiteration of deictic references as a mode of creating coherence with the issues of sacred space which frame his narrative’s opening and closing chapters. Because of the significant narrative investment in issues of sacred space in Luke’s opening chapters, Luke is able to underscore their continuing relevance to the subsequent socio-religious issues Jesus confronts by repeatedly locating his teaching within a progression towards Jerusalem and the temple, the center of Israel’s symbolic universe.. As suggested, this contributes to the overall coherence of the Gospel in accord with the Lukan engagement of issues of sacred space.

On the one hand, Jesus’ message must engage Israel at its socio-religious center, and he is moving toward that appointment in this section. On the other hand, the content of Jesus’ teaching in this section already undermines entrenched perspectives and the world view it insinuates. Even as we stated at the beginning of the chapter, the temple leadership seem to perceive this orientation of Jesus’ teaching as a threat to the center by his “teaching even to this place” (23:5). As we have suggested in the previous section, Luke’s account of Jesus’ teaching underscores the overturning of certain social and cultural norms selected from his social world. Luke’s account juxtaposes social conventions, “horizontally” arranging them in new combinations to invite an interpretive response. The reiteration of these same themes and motifs inside and outside of Jerusalem becomes an organizing structure of the text. Prevailing social codes undergo “recodification” in the reading transaction, further shaping and transforming reader’s perceptions of the social world mediated and legitimated by the temple’s horizontal axis. In this manner Luke sustains thematic coherence over his entire narrative. Though we shall consider how Luke achieves coherence in the other sections of Jesus’ ministry, these geographical reference points are most salient in Luke’s central section (9:51-19:28) occurring after a pronounced turning from Galilee to Jerusalem

Located near the end of Jesus’ Galilean ministry, Luke 9 discloses a shift which occurs in the narrative related to Jesus’ suffering and the misunderstanding of the disciples. In Luke 9 we find the motivation for and beginning of the transition toward the final journey to Jerusalem, as well as an emphasis on the necessity of suffering and the cross (9:21-22, 31, 43, 44).[57]

Luke began to emphasize Jesus’ true identity as the suffering Messiah by introducing this chapter with a question posed by Herod. Herod’s question in Luke 9:7-9 functions both as a prefiguring of Jesus’ death[58] and as a literary device common within Luke of raising a question in order to answer it indirectly in the subsequent narrative (cf. Luke 1:66; 2:49; 20:2, 41-44; cf. Fitzmyer 1978, 143). Accordingly, most of the chapter addresses this query. The transfiguration in Luke 9:28-36 serves as the climax to the chapter and provides the fullest answer to the question concerning Jesus’ identity. It is an integral part of the shift toward the final journey both by its location as a preview and introduction to Jesus’ journey and by the summary of the content of Jesus’ discussion with Moses and Elijah, referred to here in verse 31 as “speaking of his exodus” which he shall accomplish in Jerusalem.[59] From the Mount of Transfiguration Luke’s Gospel begins the turn toward an exodus in Jerusalem—the sacred center, yet also the city that kills the prophets.

Accompanying this shift in emphasis concerning Jesus’ suffering, there is emphasis now upon the disciples beginning to minister (9:1-6, 52-56). The disciples, who have largely been in the background to this point, have now reached a stage where they are called to participate in Jesus’ ministry. Even so they often prove ineffectual (9:37-43) and lacking in understanding (9:45). Indeed, the disciples still seem incapable of grasping a full understanding of the nature of Jesus’ identity and ministry. This issue is brought into focus by Herod who poses the critical question concerning Jesus’ identity (9:9). Jesus himself poses a similar question to the disciples as well in Luke 9:18-20. However, Peter’s reply is but a part of the correct picture of Jesus presented in this chapter. In light of the subsequent failures on the part of the disciples in this chapter, it seems questionable that this represents a true breakthrough in perception (cf. 9:33-36, 37-43, 46-48, 49-50). This imperception on the part of the disciples as well as their persistent misunderstanding—dispositions initially associated with the sacred center (Luke 1:5-2; 7:29-30)—sets the stage for Jesus’ protracted journey toward Jerusalem and the extensive teaching which takes place therein. This journey represents an attempt to resocialize them in accord with the nature of Jesus’ mission. This process appears unsuccessful or at least incomplete as they repeatedly model dispositions and behaviors befitting of Jesus’ adversaries. Hence, Jesus’ journey to Israel’s center is both a movement toward confronting the institutional center which legitimates such dispositions and behavior as well as an ongoing confrontation with such attitudes and disposition as modeled both on the part of disciples and adversaries. The journey, then, functions much like the wilderness does in Luke’s narrative, as an alternative socializing structure, oriented over against the socio-religious center.[60]

Near the end of this chapter, at Luke 9:51 we find the most pronounced shift toward Jerusalem, representing a major turning point in Luke’s Gospel. At this point the final journey begins in earnest. Even though this has been prepared for in various ways since the beginning of the chapter, and has definitely been implied with the first announcement of Jesus suffering (9:22; cf. Tannehill 1986, 179), it is not until 9:51 that we find linguistic evidence of a major break in Luke’s narrative. At 9:51 Luke departs from the Markan order of events and does not return until after the great interpolation at 18:15. This journey occupies nearly forty percent of Luke’s Gospel, in contrast to a mere two chapters in Matthew (Matt 19-20) and one chapter in Mark (Mark 10).[61]

Luke draws attention to this transition and the reorientation of the movement of the narrative both by its unique language and by scriptural allusion. In 9:51 we read “When the days drew near (sumplhrou'sqai) for him to be taken up (ajnalhvmyew), he set his face (aujto;" to; provswpon ejsthvrisen) to go to Jerusalem. Luke’s usage of sumplhrou'sqai, here and in Acts 2:1, suggests temporal connotations of a key turning point or the completion or implementation of a specific phase in God’s plan of salvation (G. Delling 1968, 308; cf. H. Egelkraut 1976, 76).

Moreover, the term “he set his face” (aujto;" to; provswpon ejsthvrisen) suggests Jesus’ firm intention of following this course without deviation. However, it may foreshadow a great deal more in terms of scriptural allusions. Most occurrences of the idiom in the LXX carry the connotation of judgment as well as determination (cf. Jer 21:10; Ezek 6:2; 13:17; 15:7; 21:2; 27:7). In each of these instances the prophet is commissioned to deliver a message of judgment. The passage most closely resonating with Luke here is Ezek 21:2-6.[62] In both passages the messenger is setting his face against Jerusalem and grieves over the task. Additionally, Christ Jesus shall be grieved and weep over Jerusalem prior to delivering a similar message of judgment (19:41-44; cf. Ezek 8:81).

It is likely, then, that with the appearance of this language, popular in prophetic literature, Luke has accentuated Jesus’ prophetic role and has set the context of the journey to Jerusalem against the background of a divine commission to proclaim a word of judgment. This orientation is underscored by the allusion to Mal 3:1 in the following passage (9:52) since the balance of the verse states, “Then suddenly the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come.” The remainder of the passage in Malachi (vv 2-4) puts this coming in a judgment context in which the Lord will deal with the corruption of the priesthood and offerings. This is notable since the end of the travel narrative deals with precisely these subjects.

Luke’s geographical coherence in the initial episode of the journey advances his articulation of issues of sacred space in a complex and subtle manner, even in this setting far from Jerusalem. The key to the episode and this orientation in the journey turns on the above mentioned phrase “setting one’s face” (v 51). On the one hand, the route of Jesus’ journey itself is against custom, not taking the traditional Jewish pilgrimage route from the North which would circumvent a passage through Samaria. Instead, his party actually journeyed through Samaritan territory.

Jesus has not precluded interaction with Samaritans because of his orientation toward the sacred center of Jerusalem. This is so because the primary orientation of his journey is undermining such a view, even if this journey is carried out in a purposefully confrontational manner (i. e., “he set his face to go to Jerusalem”—v 51). On the other hand, it is precisely this orientation (“his face was set toward Jerusalem”—v 53) which has alienated him from these non-Jews. That is to say, a contributing factor to their being categorized as non-Jews is because of their rejection of Jerusalem as the sacred center. Hence, the reference to Samaritans in this passage underscores the problematic nature of Jerusalem as a sacred center, as alienating and as perpetuating such distinctions. Indeed, its lines of division, here in terms of Jew and non-Jew, extend even at this distance.[63] Jesus, on the other hand, journeys to undermine these divisions, in the manner in which he journeys, in the nature of his teaching during the journey, and in the goal which he shall accomplish at the end of his journey.

Samaritans continue to embody or personify this orientation during the journey. For example in the parable of the Good Samaritan (10:25-37) the geographic orientation of the parable intersects with that of Jesus’ journey. The priest and the Levite, two individuals closely associated with the temple, are contrasted with the Samaritan, who was noted for rejection of the Jerusalem temple. As in other contexts, temple personnel, even though just coming from the sacred center, prove imperceptive, here to human need. Indeed, it is their embodiment of temple concerns and its ideology that has precluded them from assisting this “certain man” (10:30) due to their divisive world view mediated by the temple. They form the surprising, negative counterparts to the Samaritan, a member of a group noted in the social world of that time for its anti-Jewish temple identity.

Finally, a third example is noted in the account of the healing of the ten lepers  as Jesus was still traveling on the border of Galilee and Samaria (17:11-19).[64] Though Luke’s audience does not realize it at first, the one healed leper who returns to give praise to God is a Samaritan. Given Jesus’ instruction to go and show themselves to the priests, once again raising the divisive temple locale, we are left to ask, Where was this Samaritan going before returning? Jerusalem or the Samaritan temple on Mount Gerazim? In either case this perplexing question is relativized at once in that he is now praising God and worshipping at Jesus’ feet. In a sense the question is raised only to be surpassed. The falling at Jesus’ feet is suggestive of a more appropriate locus of revelation and worship.[65] This image is reprised in the last scene of the Gospel, at Jesus’ ascension, after the disciples finally perceive Jesus’ identity. Hence, it is striking that this “foreigner” manifests such insight at this stage of the narrative. These three Samaritan episodes, then, are yet another way the marginalizing capacity of sacred space is woven into the central portions of Luke’s Gospel.

The Pharisees in Jesus’ Ministry: Coherence of Character

If Luke’s narrative finds coherence in the antithetical embodiment of temple concerns in his characters through the three references to the Samaritans, then yet another way that this coherence is sustained is through his depiction of the Pharisees and their associated scribes.[66] In many ways, Pharisees embrace temple concerns and suggest analogies with Luke’s portrait of the temple. As we have noted, Pharisees, along with the temple leadership and scribes, constitute Jesus’ main adversaries in Luke. These groups are closely identified with the temple: (1) temple leaders and scribes by vocation and location, and (2) Pharisees and associated scribes by embodying and extending temple practices and concerns.[67] In the socially stressed context of the first century the Pharisee’s contribution to the debate concerning community self-definition was through the universalization of the priestly purity code or, in a sense, the priesthood of all Jews.[68] The Pharisaic distinctive was to hold to the ritual purity regulations at a higher standard than normal, at the level normally reserved for the priests. By doing so they sought to maintain a sacred context for God’s presence in their shift from temple to table.

[It] seems most likely that, whether in great detail or in symbolic gestures, their purity codes bore some familial relationship to the purity codes required for priests when on duty in the Temple. As we shall see later, the Temple functioned as the controlling symbol for Pharisees no less than for other Jews; and the purity codes functioned as a key means of granting to ordinary domestic life, and in particular the private study of Torah, the status that would normally only accrue to those who were serving in the presence of Israel’s god within his Temple. (N. T. Wright 1992, 195)

For the Pharisees, then, the temple served as a symbolic structure which integrated different spheres of significance into a symbolic totality, shaping cultural dispositions, being eminently generative and transposable, “capable of generating a multiplicity of practices and perceptions in fields other than those in which they were originally acquired” (J. B. Thompson 1991, 12). The temple’s spheres of holiness corresponded in an interrelated fashion with their own purity rules concerning lands, peoples, and foods, embodying in concrete fashion the priestly purity system as described in the Holiness Code of Leviticus (cf. Lev 17-26). This system evokes a divine cosmic order, a consistent and interrelated world view, such as is found in other priestly traditions. Adapting from the framework of D. P. Wright (1992, 739-40), Figure 3, below, illustrates the systemic interrelatedness of this world view in terms of purity concerns in the domains of person, space, and food.

Figure 3

Symbolic Structure of Interrelated Purity Concerns

Both M. Douglas and D. P Wright have emphasized how one part of this system intimates the larger whole.[69] That is, each domain of the structure in Figure 3 is interwoven with and invokes the meaning and significance of the others as well, underscoring the structural redundancy or synonymy in the symbolic system in different areas and at different levels (D. P. Wright 1992, 740). Accordingly, from this perspective, one can better understand the interrelated nature of one’s actions within this world view; how one comports oneself in one’s practices concerning food may reinforce distinctions vis-‡-vis outsiders or one’s access to privileged sacred spaces, on the other hand, may underscore distinctions within the community.[70]

Each of these examples is significant for the relationship between sacred space and Jesus’ main adversarial groups in Luke-Acts, Pharisees, scribes and temple leaders.[71] In this way the temple continues to have a presence outside Jerusalem, in this context embodying those dispositions and perspectives suggested by its dividing structures. Luke develops thematic coherence throughout his narrative, then, by featuring prominently in the social horizon of his text those agents and practices who embody the institutional ideology of the Jerusalem temple. The figural action of Luke’s narrative, moreover, takes on significance and is informed by the polarities of his discursive fields which are shaped by the fundamental oppositions inherent in the dividing structures of the temple itself. Around these basic polarities Luke organizes a multitude of opposing pairs. Luke’s discourse overturns the fundamental oppositions of priestly temple ideology and their transposition to other contexts such as Pharisaic purity rules.[72] This vital role which the temple institution plays on a number of levels in Luke’s narrative, then, may be conceptualized by its thorough integration within the domains highlighted in Figure 4.

Figure 4

Multilevel Thematic Integration of the Temple in Luke-Acts

As we have noted, though in the time that Luke was writing the sanctuary may have ceased to exist as a literal focal point,[73] it is precisely this interrelatedness and transposable dimension of temple ideology as an analogical mode of thought and its attendant hierarchical distinctions and divisions which Luke is confronting.[74] Luke draws attention to this fact by the way he frames his inclusive discourse; Jesus as a practitioner of open boundaries models the kingdom of God in a manner which overturns the segregated world view constituted by the temple and embodied in Pharisaic practice and dispositions.[75]

Throughout Jesus’ Galilee ministry and the journey to Jerusalem, Pharisees and scribes, for all their stringent embodiment of temple purity concerns, often function as paradigms of misperception. As John Darr notes, they play a key role in this section’s rhetorical strategy in the areas of “(1) recognition and response; (2) the reversal of status; and (3) the division of characters into insiders and outsiders” (Darr 1992, 126).[76] They are frequently sketched as listeners and onlookers who observe the unfolding drama; yet often serve as “paradigms of imperceptiveness” by failing to perceive and respond to Jesus’ message and the presence of the kingdom. “The Pharisees and lawyers are those who, because they lack certain spiritual or moral qualities, have not repented and therefore fail to see and respond correctly when confronted with God’s will as manifested in Jesus” (Darr 1992, 101).

As such they often personify and embody some of the failings we noted in the Infancy Narrative associated with sacred space. Central to this character trait is the Pharisees’ blindness to the kingdom of God. Given the symbolic nature of blindness and restoration of sight which is central to the Lukan portrait of salvation, the Pharisees’ spiritual imperception stands out dramatically.[77] Though others struggle to comprehend the nature of Jesus’ identity and ministry (e.g., both Jesus and John’s disciples), the Pharisees along with the scribes are underscored as those who have “rejected God’s purpose for themselves” (7:30). This interpretive narrative aside concerning the Pharisees’ and scribes’ failure to respond to the message of John is juxtaposed with the comments on the blind receiving their sight as characteristic of Jesus’ ministry (7:18-23). Though peppered with harsh critiques throughout, Jesus continues to engage and share in table fellowship with Pharisees throughout both the Galilee section and the journey to Jerusalem (e.g., 11:42, 43; 12:1; 18:11).

What then are we to make of the Pharisees’ characterization in Luke-Acts? Though imperceptive and embodying a temple ideology, the Pharisees are by no means a flat character. In light of the amount of narrative investment and nuance they receive in terms of characterization, it is misleading to refer to them as a group character, pace Darr.[78] They are distinct from the temple leadership, who, as we have noted, are characterized as opponents from the outset (cf. 3:1-2).[79]

Indeed, what may be the case is that, as John Carroll has noted, Jesus’ encounters with the Pharisees advances a depiction of two conflicting concepts of the kingdom (Carroll 1988a, 607). In the journey to Jerusalem the conflict between Jesus and the Pharisees reaches its height. In the travel narrative two views of the kingdom are illustrated by the contrasting pictures of the Pharisees and the disciples. The setting at meal and the parable of the great banquet in Luke 14:1-24 illustrate well these differing views. The Pharisees refuse Jesus “primarily because of his style of ministry, behind which lies a view of God’s kingdom which they find repugnant” (Carroll 1988a, 612). In the end the Pharisees decline taking part in the kingdom which Jesus proclaims (cf. Carroll 1988a, 611-16).

Accordingly, the characterization of the Pharisees as holding a different view of the kingdom casts them in a different, more complex role than simply that of an opponent of Jesus.        From a narratological perspective, it may be more fruitful to identify them as anti-subjects rather than as opponents.[80] This means they do not solely exist to oppose the main character but come into conflict with him in pursuit of their own agenda. It is in this sense of pursuing their own agenda that Jesus characterizes them as hypocrites (12:1), not in the classical sense of acting or in the contemporary sense of insincerity. Rather, against the background of its Hellenistic-Jewish usage, the Pharisees are hypocrites in that they are “godless” (R. H. Smith 1992, 352; cf. Job 8:13; 15:34; Is 33:14; Prov 11:9), living lives “not determined by God” (H. Giesen 1990, 3:403; cf. Green 1995, 74-75), hence imperceptive of and at cross purposes with God’s saving actions.

Even what may be construed as a friendly gesture on the part of Pharisees concerning the threat of Herod which awaits at Jerusalem (13:31-33) manifests this narrative role. Given that Jerusalem is where God’s agenda is fulfilled (cf. 9:31, 51, 53; 13:34-35), the warning of Jesus not to journey to Jerusalem is fundamentally a sign of their misperception of the true nature of the kingdom and of an alternate agenda.[81] It is not simply a matter of roundness or flatness of character but of the actantial relationship which these characters fills within the narrative program.[82] This concept would be more in keeping with the amount of narrative investment in the characterization of the Pharisees. This can also account for the level of ambiguity and openness in the reading of their characterization.[83] On the other hand, the priestly block of antagonists receives no character development and nicely fit the role of opponent. While a full survey of recent scholarship on Luke’s depiction of the Pharisees would take us well beyond the limited focus of this section (cf. Appendix A), we would argue that because Pharisees embody temple concerns they also share in the ambiguity reflected in scholarly assessments of the temple. Given then that the Pharisees’ view of the kingdom is so closely aligned with an embodiment of temple ideology, they share in Luke’s nuanced articulation of this theme, bringing a significant degree of coherence to Luke’s narrative in relation to the Jerusalem sections which bracket their presence in Luke’s Gospel.

Final Jerusalem Ministry

Any reading of Jesus’ final ministry in Jerusalem is unavoidably shaped by the protracted journey and teaching which forms Luke’s central section (9:51-19:28). This section informs our reading in terms of its focus on Jesus’ confrontational posture toward Jerusalem (e.g., 9:51; 13:31-35), narrative prefigurement of conflict, and the thematic development of Jesus’ teaching “in the way” which has elaborated on the nature of the good news. All this forms the background for his temple teaching (20:1-21:38). Hence, Jesus’ final visit to Israel’s sacred center in Luke-Acts does not simply revisit the same issues but advances their thematic development within Luke’s story[84]

On the other hand, Luke has devoted significant attention to Jerusalem in his opening chapters, which also influence how this section is understood. Indeed, Luke has prepared his audience for this second Jerusalem section early and often. First, we may recall how the structure of Luke 1-2 climaxed with the young Jesus in the temple under divine compulsion, astonishing the teachers and intimating their displacement (2:40-52). Moreover, this scene is contrasted with an alternate transposition of John’s storyline which began in the temple in the first scene of Luke’s Gospel but reached its climax in the wilderness (1:5-23, 80). These overarching transpositions suggested a displacement of temple leadership and intimates a transformation of the temple institution.

Next, we noted how the opposition and conflict foreshadowed in Luke 1-2 was further developed in the transition to the ministries of John and Jesus in the wilderness, and how the high-priesthood was associated with the enemies of God’s people (3:1-2), prefiguring a menacing presence from the start. We observed, moreover, the distinctive character of the Lukan temptation scenes, specifically the fact that the final temptation takes place in Jerusalem at the temple, where Jesus remains and the devil departs. Hence, the movement of the temptations from the wilderness to temple reprises the movement of the Luke 1-2 and anticipates the spatial and plot development of Jesus’ ministry from periphery to sacred center. At the final temptation Luke foreshadows a future, opportune time when the devil would again mount an offensive (4:9-13). Though the struggle with diabolic forces continues throughout the narrative of Luke-Acts, it is only at the conclusion of Jesus’ temple teaching ministry that Satan again becomes an overt agent in the narrative in response to the stalemate precipitated by Jesus’ public acclaim over against the temple leadership’s attempts to ensnare and arrest him.[85] The total effect of these scenes creates expectations of conflict and diabolical opposition associated with the Jerusalem temple and lays a foundation for understanding the events that shall transpire there as Jesus now approaches the sacred center.

Beyond the significance of its location within Luke’s narrative, as a pillar of second temple Judaism, the temple also represents a key institutional context within that social world. In addition to the temple’s symbolic significance, Jesus is now moving into a crucial context wherein “producers of culture gain access to necessary resources, come into contact with their audience and confront the limitation posed by competitors and person in authority (cf. R. Wuthnow 1989, 7). If Jesus’ message of good news and release is to have its full impact, it must be proclaimed at the very center of Jewish life, the Jerusalem temple, that institution which perpetuates the social barriers which Jesus has been confronting. Hence, with the movement to occupy the center there is also an exclusive focus now on teaching as against his previous custom of teaching and performing miraculous deeds which has characterized his ministry up to this point. Again, we nay note that this exclusive focus on Jesus’ teaching in the temple legitimates the sacred center as an appropriate context for divine revelation and communication in accord with its vertical axis. On the other hand, the content of his teaching continues to deligitimate the socially segregating capacities of its horizontal axis. Hence, we find that in the Jerusalem passages which close his Gospel, Luke continues to advance this balanced process of articulation even as we observed in the Infancy Narrative.

Jesus’ Arrival at Jerusalem (Luke 19:11-48)

In Luke’s account, Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem is preceded by the parable of the pounds (19:11-27; cf. Matt 25:14-30), which immediately precedes the conferral of kingship by the disciples and Jesus’ peaceful approach to Jerusalem to public acclaim. This parable provides an interpretive vantage for Jesus’ Jerusalem ministry (cf. F. D. Weinert 1977, 505-14). In terms of plot development, the parable functions to gather together key themes of displacement, reversal, and transformation introduced as possibilities in the Infancy Narrative and wilderness passages, prefiguring how Jesus’ Jerusalem ministry shall actualize these possibilities by his occupation of and teaching in the temple, as well as his death, resurrection and ascension. In its Lukan form the parable of the pounds underscores themes of kingdom authority, replacement of temple leadership, as well as the opposition which these events shall precipitate.[86] With its emphasis on kingdom authority in this passage and the following, just prior to Jesus’ entry and possession of the temple, we may detect allusions to the devil’s penultimate temptation of Jesus with its own offer of kingdom authority (4:5-6; cf. S. Garrett 1989, 38-43). If this is also suggested, Luke may be advancing a reading of Jesus’ Jerusalem ministry which strengthens connections to his previous defeat of diabolic and oppositional powers in Jerusalem. In both instances, the topic of kingdom authority is followed by a defeat of adversarial forces at the temple through a critical discernment of scripture in accord with God’s saving purpose.

Because it is related without any break between this episode and the previous passage, Jesus’ acclaim as “king” by the crowds (v 38) leaves unambiguous its relation to the preceding parable (cf. L. T. Johnson 1991, 293).[87] Again we may note the continued misperception and blindness on the part of the Pharisees (19:39-40), who make their final appearance in Luke’s Gospel and are not included as present among those responsible for Jesus’ death (cf. Matt 21:45; 22:15, 34, 41; 23:2-36; Mk 12:13-17). Nevertheless, the call for Jesus to rebuke his disciples on the part of the Pharisees would align them with those who do not recognize the claim to kingdom authority in the parable. This understanding would include them in the company of those who shall be displaced in the story by those granted authority to rule. Consequently, Pharisees exit Luke’s Gospel occupying a dangerous position relative to the outcome of the parable, still failing to perceive Jesus’ identity.

With the arrival of Jesus at Jerusalem, the final appearance of the Pharisees in their now stylized role of imperception may anticipate and underscore the central theme of imperception in the following episode where Jesus weeps over Jerusalem (19:41-44).[88] This episode, which is unique to Luke, emphasizes Jerusalem’s failure to perceive God’s visitation and offer of shalom (G. Schneider 1977, 387-89). That failure of perception which was associated with the sacred center in the Infancy Narrative and has been a persistent characteristic of the Pharisees now forebodes tragic consequences for those in Jerusalem. This failing and its catastrophic aftermath is emphasized by a chiastic reiteration of perception language interspersed with contrasting images of peace and destruction:

A “recognized” (e[gnw" v 42a)

B “peace” (eijrhvnhnv v 42b)

C “hidden from your eyes”

     (ejkruvbh ajpo; ojfqalmw'n sou v 42c)

B’ “enemies” (ejcqroiv v 43a)

A’ “recognize” (e[gnw" v 44).

Given the fact that this scene is immediately followed by Jesus’ entrance into the temple (19:45) and confrontation of those inside, within the immediate narrative context Jesus’ pronouncement suggests an indictment of those in Jerusalem connected to the temple. Indeed, Luke exclusively focuses on Jesus’ ministry in the temple and nowhere records Jesus’ entrance into the city (cf. Matt 21:10; Mark 11:11; cf. Mal 3:2). Though Jesus’ initial actions and words in the temple are briefer in Luke, they are no less forceful than in the other synoptics and are closely associated with his occupation of the temple for his final phase of ministry. Jesus’ action of driving out (ejkbavllein) those within the temple is not immediately apparent (cf. Matt 21:12; Mark 15b-16) and has elicited various explanations.[89] However, in terms of thematic development within the narrative, this forceful language which has previously been associated with the casting out of demons (9:40, 49; 11:14-23; 13:32) obliquely anticipates the diabolic forces underlying the conflict in Jerusalem and furthers the theme of displacement of temple leadership by the actual physical act.

Luke’s nuanced process of articulation vis-à-vis the temple theme is nowhere more clearly seen than in Jesus’ truncated quotation of the Isaiah text and its accompanying quotation of Jeremiah (Luke 19:46; Isa 56:7; Jer 7:11). On the one hand, the temple is not understood as a place for all nations (v 46), though, on the other hand, it does continue as a house of prayer, as we have already seen in the Infancy Narrative and on the journey (Luke 1:10, 12; 2:29-32, 37; 18:19-14; Acts 3:1; 21:27-30; 22:17-21). In Luke’s narrative to this point, the temple has served as both a context for revealing a salvation which shall include all nations, as well as a setting which highlights its role in dividing among peoples and distancing individuals (e.g., Luke 18:9-14).[90]

Nevertheless, Jesus’ cryptic characterization of the temple as “a den of thieves” (Jer 7:11) is quite provocative, particularly when heard within its original context of Jeremiah 7:3-20. In that context Jeremiah addresses those who exploit the poor with impunity by means of and because of their privileged relation to the temple. Though the images evoked by Jesus’ incendiary language do not receive further elaboration in the proximate context, they do come into clear focus again as he teaches and confronts those in authority in the temple setting later (20:45-21:4). Moreover, Jesus’ brief pronouncement concerning the destruction of Jerusalem in the previous passage (19:41-44) and his comments here concerning those in the temple, receive further clarification at the end of Luke’s account of Jesus’ Jerusalem ministry in 20:45-21:4 and 21:5-38 with the return and clarification of these themes, as we shall note.

The casting out of those in the temple and Jesus’ own occupation of the institution sets the stage for his teaching ministry.[91] Because of its function as a locus of communication with and about God, the temple setting constitutes the ideal context for Jesus’ teaching. The temple is connected with Torah within its broader function as a center of communication with and about God.[92] Priests were thought to have access to the mind of God (Deut 33:8) and instructed the people in the law (cf. E. P. Sanders 1991, 170-92). This instruction in Torah which emanated from the temple was projected onto the age-to-come when the nations were to stream to Zion (Mic 4:2), the (supposed) place of prayer for all nations (Is 56:7; 2:2-4.; Jer 7:11; Mk 11:17). However, with Jesus’ truncated citation of Isaiah a transformation of its role as center is adumbrated, paving the way for a centrifugal mission.

The themes of temple and scripture continue to resonate with each other, as we have noted; now with the occupation of the authoritative center, Jesus’ teaching claims the highest sanction and the issue of authority forms the basis of the initial confrontation (20:1-8). This initial question of authority and subsequent dispute concerning legal interpretation and practice parallels Jesus’ first cycle of conflict in these areas with the Pharisees and associated scribes (5:30), Jesus’ main opposition outside of Jerusalem whose embodiment of temple concerns precipitate such conflicts (5:17-6:11). Here, however, Pharisees are absent while those whom Jesus engages are those who more concretely derive their power and authority from their varied connections to the temple and interpretation of scripture: chief priests, scribes, elders, Sadducees and the rich urban elite.

In 19:47-48 Luke underscores the oppositional climate which sets the context for Jesus’ teaching ministry in close association with the rulers’ desire to destroy Jesus. This section is framed within a balance of power between this desire to kill Jesus on the part of the leaders and Jesus’ initial popularity with the people:

A Every day he was teaching in the temple.

B The chief priests, the scribes, and the leaders of the people kept looking for a way to kill him;

B’ but they did not find anything they could do,

A’ for all the people were spellbound by what they heard. (19:47-48; cf. Weinert 1981, 86)

Both this balanced introduction to Jesus’ teaching, as well as the nature of Jesus’ response to the challenge of his authority to teach in 20:1-8, highlight the division which has taken place in the people. This division is also in the foreground at Jesus’ death (23:32-49). Luke again grounds this division in the leaders’ failure to respond to John’s baptism and preaching of repentance. We may recall that the wilderness setting of John’s ministry was one that was located over against Jerusalem as sacred center, yet as a witness to it. Failure to recognize the authority behind John’s baptism in the wilderness and failure to respond has rendered the temple leadership incapable of recognizing the authority behind Jesus’ action in the temple. Both the actions of John and Jesus, then, should be understood as prophetic actions critiquing the temple leadership and their abuse of the institution. This is the same indictment, moreover, which Luke records concerning the Pharisees in the significant narrative aside in Luke 7:29-30, with the same resultant division of the people.[93] In both instances the failure on the part of leadership, both Pharisaic and temple centered, undermines their capacity for leading Israel. Indeed, it disqualifies them from such a role; they have rejected God’s messengers and God’s purpose.

Jesus Teaches in the Temple (Luke 20:1-21:4)

Luke’s account of Jesus’ ministry in the temple is characterized as preaching the good news (20:1) but is more oriented around challenges to Jesus’ authority than to the teaching itself. Luke 19:47-48, 20:1, and 21:37-38 merely summarize Jesus’ teaching while focusing thematic emphasis on the leaders’ objections. In terms of discourse theory, the content of Jesus’ teaching forms the background, that which is considered as already given information, while the objections of the leaders forms the foreground, that which receives thematic development and focus (cf. Brown and Yule 1983, 126-33 ; P. J. Rabinowitz 1987, 148). The givenness of Jesus’ teaching must be understood, then, in keeping with representative examples and summaries of his message which Luke’s audience has already encountered, particularly where the term “good news” has been employed as it is here (cf. 4:18-19, 43; 7:22; 8:1; 9:6; 16:16). Hence, it is in keeping with previous Lukan construals of “good news” as privileging the poor and marginalized over the rich and powerful as well as overturning systems and structures which perpetuate this condition.[94] This same message, now preached at the sacred center, takes on ominous significance. To this extent, then, the temple leadership correctly perceives the message and messenger as a threat.

Jesus’ teaching that Luke does relate is by way of response to challenges to his authority to teach in the temple. The charge of the temple leadership concerning “these things” (tau'ta) which Jesus is doing in the temple (20:2) and Jesus’ refusal to reply concerning “these things” (20:8) evokes Jesus’ first words uttered in the temple concerning the divine compulsion to be engaged in the “things of my Father” (2:49).[95] Hence, implied in the question on the origin of his authority is the fact that they do not know the Father.[96] This question takes on an ironic edge, not unlike that of Zechariah’s first question in the temple (1:18), underscoring for Luke’s audience the continued failure on the part of the temple leadership to perceive God’s purpose.

The linkages to John and to issues of authority continue in the Parable of the Vineyard Tenants (20:9-19), not only in light of the ill treatment which the owner’s servants receive at the hands of the tenants (cf. Luke 3:19-20; 9:9), but also in the repeated references to their sending them away “empty handed” (20:10, 11). That is to say, failure to render fruit or barren and fruitless images of God’s people continue to intersect John’ story at a number of points:[97] (1) the initial barren condition of John’s parents, Zechariah and Elizabeth, and its figural relationship to the people and priesthood; (2) the barren and sterile locale of the wilderness, where John matures and ministers; (3) the explicit call in the wilderness to render fruits worthy of repentance (Luke 3:7-18); and (4) the failure to acknowledge and respond to John’s message on the part of the Jerusalem leadership.

Hence, in this new parabolic context, previous narrative themes are advanced and take on a figural quality in accord with the action of the parable (cf. Luke 6:43-45; 8:4-15). This parable also provides an interpretive focus for the climax of Luke’s Gospel in terms of heightened conflict, displacement and transferal of authority.

Indeed, in the Parable of the Vineyard Tenants we again find a replacement motif. Luke’s readers may have already inferred that these new leaders will be the apostles[98] who shall come into their own in Acts, where they are repeatedly found occupying the temple (Acts 2-5), teaching the crowds, and reprising Jesus’ pattern in the present context. Hence, Jesus’ parables underscore themes central to John’s preaching (3:7-18); the “tenant” nature of Israel’s leaders undermines notions of permanent inherited authority and the need for fruitful actions is again emphasized. Moreover, the implication of displacement inherent in the oppositional locales of temple and wilderness is overtly narrated in similar fashion to that of the Parable of the Pounds.[99]

The following passages (Luke 20:20-21:4), then, may be understood against the background of this initial challenge concerning Jesus’ authority to teach in the temple and his parabolic response. In contrast to Mark’s narrative, Luke’s account records no departure of Jesus’ accusers.[100] This, in effect, establishes a closer connection between the Vineyard Parable and the ensuing exchanges which follow.

In one sense, the four episodes which follow (Luke 20:20-26; 27-40; 41-44; 20:45-21:4) exemplify both a continued challenge to Jesus’ authority, however veiled, by those deriving their authority from the temple, as well as their displacement through a process of delegitimizing their leadership roles. The first two episodes in particular complete the pattern of the initial hostile exchange, eventuating in Jesus’ silencing of his challengers.[101]

In the following two episodes, after effectively answering and silencing all challenges, Jesus takes the offensive, both in terms of authoritative scriptural interpretation and in his critique of the “fruit” of his opponents lifestyle. The question put to Jesus concerning the tribute in the episode may be read as the manifestation of the rulers’ desire to put Jesus to death. Though Jesus successfully negotiates this crisis, it shall play a role in the charges brought against him before Pilate in 23:2.

This initial question turns upon the relationship between political power and religious authority present at the socio-religious center.[102] Indeed, the crux of the question and of Jesus’ predicament involves how Jesus shall resolve these competing claims.[103] The pretense of the question is underscored here, as well as in 23:2, where the desire to deliver him up to the jurisdiction and authority of the governor is played out, accomplishing their designs by means of false accusations. What may have been understood as a legitimate question concerning strategic compromise for the purpose of peaceful coexistence with Rome, is later seen as collusion with Rome to bring about Jesus’ demise.[104] Their duplicity is further underlined by the contradictory statements of these two verses: Jesus teaches rightly (ojrqw'" 20:21) and Jesus perverts the nation (diastrevfonta 23:2). Jesus’ masterful response, however, silences his opponentsóat least for a time.

A similar fate befalls Jesus’ next interlocutors, the Sadducees. Outside of the context of Jerusalem, the Pharisees had been Jesus’ sparring partners concerning the proper interpretation of and response to scripture. However, with the absence of the Pharisees during the Jerusalem ministry and the silencing of the Sannhedrin’s agents, the stage is set for the Sadducees to take a more central role in this continuing debate. Their disingenuous attitude is underscored by their preposterous question. Again, the temple serves as the context in which Jesus confronts the fruitless lives and limitations of his competitors and those in authority. Both the Sannhedrin and the Sadducees are characterized as fruitless, imperceptive and unprofitable.

That the scribes side with Jesus over against the Sadducees does not signify a turning point on the part of Jesus opponents.[105] Rather, as in a similar episode in the life of Paul in Acts 23:6-10, this episode serves to underscore the mastery of the situation and words of wisdom evinced in the witness of God’s agents (cf. R. L. Brawley 1987, 115).[106]

Jesus’ mastery of the situation and legitimate occupation of the center is further demonstrated by his own scriptural query.[107] Though his question is unanswered in the present passage, it advances the initial question concerning the nature of Jesus’ identity and authority in 20:1-19. In both, a question is raised and unanswered or left to be inferred which underscores Jesus’ identity and authority. Therefore, in Jesus’ question the issue of the Davidic messiah is moved beyond language concerning the “Son of David” to the “Lord of David.”[108]

Jesus’ question is then followed by the censure of the scribes. It is clear by this episode that the momentum of the debate has changed. After having silenced his adversaries (20:1-40) and having further validated and secured his own status as a forceful interpreter of scripture, one who is able to hold-forth at the heart of Judaism, Jesus now seizes the occasion to use his adversaries as teaching examples. Hence, we note a progression in Jesus’ occupation of the temple which moves it from a context of challenge and riposte, to one of unchallenged teaching, to one of using his competitors as proverbial counter-examples (cf. B. Malina 1993, 28-62; J. M. Dawsey 1984, 153-65), condemning their religious practice and announcing their demise.

In various and interrelated ways these scenes and the eschatological discourse which follows bring Jesus’ Jerusalem ministry to a conclusion by revisiting themes from its opening scenes concerning the destruction of Jerusalem and the chastising of leaders in the temple (19:41-44, 45-48). Luke 20:45-21:4 fills in additional pieces of the picture, supplying details and motivation concerning Jesus’ pronouncement of Jerusalem’s destruction and condemnation of its leaders.

As we have already seen him do in scenes in the Infancy Narrative and in the wilderness setting, Luke establishes in this scene a reciprocal relationship between character and setting. As in Luke’s initial characterization of Zechariah (1:7-23), Luke undermines the ideology of status and pageantry associated with the socio-cultural center. The juxtaposition of 20:45-47 and 21:1-4 makes for another indirect critique of the temple institution and is exemplary of Luke’s skillful treament of this theme.

In 20:45-47 the scribes’ pretense and craving for status and attention in the public arena is criticized. Though wrapped in the cloak of religious dress and religious practice (i.e., long robes and long prayers), the scribes’ craven desire for recognition, position and status is condemned.[109] Indeed, because of their association with the apparatuses of power and influence, they desire to be treated as patrons and benefactors to the community. However, their authority and position is, in fact, shown to be used to devour the weakest and most needful in the community. This stands in a metonymic relation to the world-constructing function of the temple and how Jesus has been undermining this vision of reality throughout his ministry. As in the temple cleansing, there is a contrast between religious acts, such as prayer (19:45-48; 20:19-20), and violent, exploitive acts (i.e., “den of robbers,” “devour widow’s house”; cf. J. B. Tyson 1992, 83).[110] Luke 20 draws further interpretive webs concerning the temple’s complicity in this. That is, Luke underscores how the world view of holiness, purity and religious status rooted in the temple and personified by its leaders legitimates exploitive practices toward the weak and the defenseless whom they should be benefiting.[111]

The condemnation of the scribes is immediately juxtaposed with the institution itself by its association with Jesus’ criticism of the giving practices of the rich vis-à-vis the poor widow.[112] Luke’s account is distinct from its Markan counterpart in three ways. (1) There is no change of scene in Luke (cf. Mark 13:1). (2) Luke is focused exclusively on the practices of the rich who are already established as a negative character type in his narrative.[113] (3) It does not function as an example for disciples as in Mark (Mark 13:1), but as a further critique of false religious personnel, practices and institutions in the hearing of all the people.[114] The narrative suggests parallels between the destruction of the weak and poor by those who were to provide for them, and how the flow of wealth and gifts to the temple treasury contributes to the exploitation and impoverishment of the most vulnerable in society. In these two scenes (i.e., 20:45-47 and 21:1-4), then, an interpretive nexus is established between, on the one hand, scribes, the rich, and the temple and, on the other hand, poor widows and their households. Those who should have been benefactors and defenders of the poor are implicated by participation in a system which, in fact, exploits the needy, the defenseless, and the helpless.[115] Dramatically portrayed within the temple precincts and in antithetical fashion to the central thrust of Jesus’ message, the temple ideology and the practices of its rulers add up to bad news for the poor.

The Destruction of the Temple and the End Times (Luke 21:5-38)

This perspective gives warrant, then, for the immediate introduction of the temple’s destruction, which in turn functions as a launching point for Luke’s eschatological discourse. As in the previous scene, attention is drawn to elaborate external appearances and their condemnation. In Luke’s staging of this account, there is an implied nexus between the “noble stones and adornment” of the institution and the extravagant outward appearance and religious practices of the individuals condemned in the previous passages. Accordingly, there is a closer connection drawn between Jesus’ condemnation of the religious leadership and their exploitive practices and the temple institution which legitimates such practices and sustains such a world view. They both share in Jesus’ condemnation.

This understanding is contrary to what has become a scholarly commonplace that Luke makes a distinction between his critique of temple leadership and the temple as an institution itself. Weinert’s comments are representative: “Unlike Mark, Luke refuses to make the Temple a locus of opposition to Jesus . . . . Luke prefers to picture such opposition as being embodied in Israel’s leaders rather than in the Temple or the people at large” (1981, 86; cf. Brawley 1987, 105-32). However, when viewed upon the wider canvas of Luke-Acts and in light of Luke’s broader concerns, the distincion between character and institution does not hold up. As we have already seen in Luke 1-2; 18:9-14 and here, temple authorities and those embodying temple ideology take part in a larger Lukan motif wherein characters are negatively depicted by the socio-religious space they occupy and embody. These characters embody the socially divisive horizontal dimension of sacred space and are often characterized as doing so in the temple. Hence, our perspective is the opposite of Weinert’s because of the fundamental problem of the socially divisive social axis of sacred space they both share in Luke’s negative depiction.

By employing this relationship between character and the socio-religious significance of settings, Luke is able to critique the temple indirectly. This is part of his mode of articulation. He continues to draw on the symbolic capital of the temple both positively, as a locus of revelation and legitimization for God’s message and messengers; as well as negatively, in terms of its divisive world view and the displacement of leaders. We may underscore a central feature of our thesis, then, that by a recovery of the socio-religious significance of sacred space as well as a nuanced appreciation for the discursive practice of articulation we can better understand Luke’s perspective on the temple, its rulers, and its complex function in Luke-Acts.

First, we may note that in Luke’s account, Jesus is still teaching in the temple; there is no change of setting or time in relation to the previous teaching concerning the censure of the scribes and temple practices (cf. Matt 24:1-2; Mark 13:1-2). Second is the Lukan emphasis on an interim period which shall follow the destruction of Jerusalem and precede the end. Of particular interest is Luke’s polyvalent reference to this period as “the time of the Gentiles” (21:24). Though there is a wide range of understanding of this phrase, we will interact with it narrowly, in terms of its relation to Luke’s engagement of the social axis of sacred space and how this relates to Lukan notions of salvation.[116]

We are reminded at the outset of this discourse how synonymously issues of temple and city function in Luke’s narrative.[117] The initial question posed concerning the destruction of the temple is answered by reference to the desolation of Jerusalem. Consequently, the fact that one implies the other should inform any reading of this discourse (pace L. Gaston 1979, 105-12). Moreover, Luke’s phrasing of the destruction of Jerusalem differs from that of Matthew and Mark. It should not simply be understood as a stylistic variation of its use in the other synoptics; it reflects a fundamentally different perspective concerning the temple.

This slight alteration has significant interpretive consequences. (1) It evokes an altogether different Old Testament intertextual stream of understanding concerning the desolation of the temple than that found in Matthew or Mark.[118] (2) This intertextual perspective on the event represents a different viewpoint, one which underscores God as the ultimate agent behind the judgment. (3) This perspective does not understand what transpires as a sacrilege of the temple and holy city since, as we have maintained, such a viewpoint assumes a world view of holiness and purity at variance with Luke’s, one which his narrative is engaging critically. Indeed, since the first scene in the Infancy Narrative Luke has been undermining this ideology and adumbrating a transformation of such concepts.[119]

Finally, the polyvalent reference to the “time of the Gentiles” in this context has two dimensions in Luke’s scheme of salvation. While Gentiles are clearly depicted as the immediate instruments of divine judgment on Jerusalem, the Lukan wording may also imply that Gentiles will also now partake of God’s salvation, full participants in the benefits of salvation as a part of God’s people.[120] Destruction comes on Jerusalem and the temple because they did not recognize the time of their visitation (19:41-44). However, the time of the Gentiles suggests a period when Gentiles shall recognize God’s visitation (cf. Acts 15:14), and with the destruction of the sacred center and the divisions it perpetuates, undergo a transformed experience of access to God’s presence (cf. Acts 10-11), beyond the proscribed boundaries of the temple.[121] This is in keeping with the Lukan characterization of salvation in terms of a pattern of reversal—insiders become outsiders and outsiders become insiders, the lowly are exalted and the exalted are brought low (1:52-53). This is also the central thrust of the plot of Acts even before the literal destruction of the temple. Indeed, Acts reflects a time period already characterized in the previous passage (21:12-19, “before all this”) by the characteristics and portents of the last days (Acts 2:14-21).[122] After the death of the first martyr, Stephenóone who is charged with threats against the temple and whose comments concerning the temple function as the climax of his testimonyóthe good news increasingly moves beyond Jewish territory with particular attention devoted to its penetration of non-Jewish or Gentile territory and their unfettered participation in the promises of God’s people.

Though this is a staggering image, the theme of a more inclusive reach of God’s salvation against the backdrop of a radical transformation of the temple and its limiting nature is hardly unprepared for in Luke’s narrative. In fact, Luke has enunciated this message in various ways since the first scene of his Gospel. Included among Luke’s diverse means of reiterating this message would be: (1) the pervasive motif of transposition, (2) the wilderness section and Infancy narratives’s overarching structure of transpositions, (3) the progression and climax of Jesus’ temptations, (4) the character of Jesus’ ministry as one of breaking down social barriers, (5) Jesus’ confrontational focus on and movement toward Jerusalem since 9:51, and (6) the continuing narrative deixis which centers on Jerusalem and the temple.

Moreover, the wording of the destruction of the sacred center evokes the previous transposition between temple and wilderness noted in the Infancy Narrative (i.e., wilderness/desolation “ejrhvmo"//ejrhvmwsi"”).[123] Accordingly, that which Luke’s narrative has portended all along is now fleshedout in terms of its consequences for the socio-religious center, consequences which portray an expanding participation of Gentiles in God’s salvation. This expansion of salvation, then, suggests the beginning of the last days and is part of the broader fabric of witness, conversion, and opposition delineated in Jesus’ eschatological discourse. Moreover, this constellation of themesóthe destruction of the temple, the last days, and the salvation of the Gentilesóis also of interpretive significance at the death of Jesus. Indeed, it is the death of Jesus which inaugurates this period and, in Luke’s presentation, portends the end of the temple’s divisive socio-religious role. The broader significance of the horizontal, social dimensions of sacred space continues as a salient feature at the death of Jesus.

The Crucifixion and Death of Jesus (Luke 23:26-49)

In his account of the crucifixion, Luke has carefully set the stage for understanding the significance of Jesus’ death through the lens of sacred spaceóparticularly in how his death actualizes a final overturning of its social axis, providing thereby an inclusive salvation for those who had been marginalized by its social classifications by degrees of purity and impurity. Read subsequent to Jesus’ eschatological discourse, together with the resurrection, it may be understood as the event which inaugurates the last days. Careful attention to the scenes immediately surrounding Jesus’ death illuminates Luke’s perspective on the horizontal or social dimension of this event as articulated through the discursive fields and figural actions related to sacred space. Central to how one reads Luke’s account of the death of Jesus is how he has structured his material. What makes Luke’s account distinctive is not just the unique elements (cf. Mark 15:27-32; Matt 27:38-44), but also their arrangement and ordering in his account, that which we have discussed earlier as the concept of linearisation (G. Brown and G. Yule 1983, 125-26).

In the scenes which immediately precede and follow Jesus’ death Luke develops a parallel structure which focuses on three contrasting pairs of responses: (1) between the Jewish rulers and the Jewish people, (2) between Gentile soldiers and a specific Gentile centurion, and (3) between the responses of the two criminals crucified with Jesus. This structure facilitates an interpretation of Jesus’ death and emphasizes both images of division and inclusion. Even at his crucifixion the crisis precipitated by Jesus’ advent perpetuates both inclusion and division at every level of society. These inclusive symbols of division also help focus on the central importance of how one interprets Jesus’ death.[124]

After the introduction of the two criminals who are crucified with Jesus (vv 32-33) and Jesus’ intercessory prayer (v 34), Luke reiterates the division between the people and the rulers.[125] In a fashion reminiscent of the devil’s taunts (4:9-11) the rulers ironically mock Jesus. “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!” (v 35b). The people, however, do not take part (v 35a). Soldiers also deride Jesus with similar language (v 36-37), as well as the first criminal, who takes up the same terms of derision as the soldiers. “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” (v 39). But the second criminal not only does not take part, but defends Jesus while demonstrating amazing insight.[126] In v 41, he distances himself from Jesus, who is condemned unjustly, in effect acknowledging that he is a sinner, which in Luke’s narrative is a form of repentance.[127] Moreover, he affirms Jesus as a king awaiting his kingdom, one who does indeed have the ability to save.[128] This manner of positive response corresponds to those of others who behold Jesus’ death.[129]

After Jesus’ death, a Gentile soldier who has witnessed the scene responds with praise to God and acknowledges Jesus as righteous.[130] He demonstrates what has been depicted in Luke’s narrative as the proper response to God’s powerful works through Jesus on the part of outsiders,[131] a response which gives glory to God’s saving actions as witnessed through Jesus, his agent. Moreover, he demonstrates the kind of perception and insight which makes an outsider and insider within Luke’s discursive fields. The multitudes who are beholding the spectacle also make a breakthrough related through the language of perception (“see”—vv 47a, 48a, 48b; “the sight”—v 48a).[132] They return home beating their breast in repentance, as did the repentant and justified tax collector returning home from the temple (18:9-14). Hence, Jesus continues to save, not through saving himself, as he has been tempted in diabolical fashion by the rulers, the soldiers, and the first criminal (cf. 4:9-13), but by following God’s purpose and suffering a shameful death in the company of society’s most marginal members.

Having noted that Luke has situated Jesus’ death within the midst of these balanced and contrasting responses, we may pose several questions. first, Why does the positive response of the second criminal precede the death of Jesus, given that the other two positive responses are results of Jesus’ death? Or rather, what sort of effect does this order have on the interpretive focus of the death of Jesus? Moreover, how are we to understand the two polyvalent symbols of the promise of paradise and the rending of the temple veil in the immediate context preceding Jesus death? How do they function within Luke’s balanced structure?

Essential to how we answer these questions is the symbolic background of the concept of paradise. The significance of paradise as part of the idealized traditions of sacred space has not been adequately recognized or addressed within previous treatments of either the immediate scene or its function in the larger context. It may be grasped more adequately, then, by understanding its relation to sacred space, specifically its conventional associations with the temple.

In the ancient Near East, it has been noted, temples manifest two modes of symbolism, cosmic symbolism and paradise symbolism (Lundquist 1984, 71).[133] We have already discussed how the Jerusalem temple expresses cosmic imagery, but in this context the fact that it discloses paradise symbolism is quite pertinent in how we can understand Jesus’ offer of salvation.

The fact that the temple is associated with the symbolism of paradise in a cross-section of biblical and extracanonical literature has led J. D. Levenson to conclude “it is reasonable to assume that some in Israel saw in Zion the cosmic mountain which is also the primal paradise called the Garden of Eden” (Levenson 1985, 131). This fact is particularly evident in the descriptive vocabulary employed to describe the temple. “Words like ‘ideal,’ ‘perfection,’ and ‘unblemished’ suggest that the Temple was, in fact, a paradise” (Levenson 1985, 128; cf. Ezek 16:14; 28; Ps 50:2). For example, Ezekiel depicts the primordial rivers (Gen 2:10-14) emerging from below the threshold of the temple (Ezek 47:1; cf. G. Himmelfarb 1991, 66). He also suggests that the perfection of Eden is cultivated in the temple by its proximity to the tree of life (Ezek 47:12).[134] Indeed, because of the idealization of this sacred space and its associations with paradise, the thought of being present in the sanctuary was a focal point of longing and delight (cf. Pss 36; 65:4).

One reason that paradise can serve as an exemplary image of salvation is its connection with the broader fabric of the creation story and how such stories form vital reservoirs of salvation language. Every creation myth, Jonathan Z. Smith maintains, is both soteriological and cosmogonical or world founding (Smith 1972, 142). This dimension is also apparent in Jewish tradition; there is a particular concentration of creation language in the Exodus stories as well as in the process of settling the land (cf. M. Eliade 1959, 31). Moreover, the founding of the sanctuary is compared to that of the founding of the earth (cf. Ps 78:69-70). “[T]o the Psalmist, the essential meaning of the temple lies in its foundation in primal times, in illo tempore, in other words, in its protological character” (Levenson 1985, 106).

Hence, creation and salvation language have a dynamic and symbiotic point of convergence in sacred space, both with a powerful capacity for world founding. Soteriological and eitiological tradition are irresistibly entwined in this function as well, lending such sacred spaces an unparalleled role in establishing and encoding the order of the world, the way things are or the way things should be.[135] As a symbol of pristine creation, then, the temple evokes the garden of Eden or paradise as well as an idealized symbol of salvation in terms of sacred space (cf. Ps 78:69; 2 Baruch 4.3-7; M. Eliade 1959, 61). “In short, the temple is intimately associated with creation. It is in a sense, the gateway to life as it was meant to be, unlimited by death, eternal life, life in illo temproe, sacred time, always new, always just created” (J. D. Levenson 1985, 132; cf. C. Long 1986, 94).

We propose, then, that such traditional associations of paradise, temple and salvation symbolism form a vital conceptual background for this Lukan passage. Consequently, Luke’s account of Jesus’ offer of salvation to this individual in this manner represents a further critical engagement with the horizontal or social axis of sacred space. This understanding is advanced in Luke’s narrative as follows. (1) As one who is relegated to the dehumanizing death by crucifixion, the thief is a symbol of the dregs of society, of low status, of sinners and outsiders (cf. M. Hengel 1977). (2) Nevertheless, as a consummate outsider and sinner, he is depicted as one of the many such persons in Luke’s narrative who exercise amazing perception concerning Jesus’ identity and ability to save (cf. D. A. Neale 1991). (3) Jesus’ salvation is clearly in focus with the presence of the thematic term “this day” which has been reiterated in the contexts of salvation proffered (cf. Luke 2:11; 13:32-33; 19:5, 9; 23:43). (4) Jesus’ offer of salvation is in the form of a promise that he would be with the criminal in paradise, a context which, like the temple, represents a highly restrictive sacred space (cf. J. H. Charlesworth 1992, 154; J. Jerimias 1968, 766-68; J. Neyrey 1991b).

Luke is employing a similar motif here to that in evidence at the death of Lazarus (16:19-31). There, Luke also employed a traditional, idealized image of the afterlife—not so much to affirm the exact nature of the afterlife but to underscore the nature of salvation in terms of a reversal of present social status. Accordingly, the astonishing image of Jesus’ final promise to the criminal, a promise to a request for remembrance and salvation, is answered in Jesus’ accompaniment into an idealized sacred space where, by normal conventions, a person of such social and moral status should be excluded.[136]

How then should this be understood within the events leading up to and including Jesus’ death? Because of its location within Luke’s larger structure of contrastive responses, as well as the traditional associations between paradise and temple, it seems reasonable that this scene should be explained as being of a piece with both the rending of the temple veil and of Jesus’ death which immediately follow.

Though neither of them incorporate Jesus’ promise to the criminal on the cross in their analyses of these events, studies by Dennis D. Sylva (1986) and Joel B. Green (1994a) have recently advanced the integration of the rending of the temple veil and Jesus’ death with an appreciation of the temple’s role as sacred center.[137] In short, Sylva’s thesis, which is largely based upon parallels with the death of Stephen (cf. 1986, 245; Acts 7:55, 56), is that the rending of the temple veil prior to Jesus’ death may be understood positively as descriptive of “Jesus’ communion with the God of the temple” (1986, 250). Though Sylva’s treatment of these events is estimable and makes a legitimate contribution to a better understanding of the symbolic background of the temple and its contextual relevance, he ultimately overemphasizes the necessity of this event for Jesus to commune with the Father (cf. 10:21; 23:34) and neglects how Luke’s significant thematic investment regarding the temple up to this point prepares Luke’s audience for a more critical socio-religious understanding of the veil rending.[138]

While agreeing with Sylva’s assessment that the temple rending does not necessarily portend the physical destruction of the temple, Green more accurately characterizes Luke’s focus as in keeping with Jesus’ ministry of overturning divisive social and religious barriers. That is, the rending of the temple veil symbolizes the undermining of the holiness-purity matrix mediated by the temple (cf. J. B. Green 1994a 515). While we would agree with this perspective, we also hope to ground this view more securely within the immediately preceding context.[139] That is, Luke’s focus on the relationship between Jesus’ death and the overturning of the divisive role of the horizontal or social axis of the temple is not merely symbolized by the aftermath of the event, with the positive responses of both Gentile and Jew (23:47-48; cf. Green 1994a 504-505); it is also prepared for by the offer of salvation to the criminal on the cross with its immediate connections to temple symbolism and the temple veil rending (23:43-45).

We shall outline our understanding of the relationship between Jesus’ offer of paradise, the veil rending and Jesus’ death, then, on the basis of the following assumptions: first, Luke’s readers assume textual coherence and the cohesive relationship which exists between the constituents in his discourse (i.e., events are co-interpreted in relation to one another; cf. G. Brown and G. Yule 1983, 190-99); second, within a narrative, order often implies causation (cf. G. Prince 1973, 9-15, 39; J. H. Miller 1990, 75; P. J. Rabinowitz 1987, 104); and third, in terms of discursive order, what is related first unavoidably shapes a reader’s interpretive focus, while what follows is processed in relation to the immediately preceding context (S. Rimmon-Kenan 1983, 120; Brown and Yule 1983, 125-26).

In the Lukan account of the crucifixion, then, (1) a contextually grounded understanding of the death of Jesus is provided by no less than Jesus himself, in his final act of ministry extended to a member of the lowest possible social status, yet one who shall accompany Jesus both in crucifixion and in paradise. (2) The presence of a positive response prior to Jesus’ death establishes salvation categories in terms of the astonishing image of a consummate outsider’s entrance into an exclusive, idealized sacred space. (3) These categories provide interpretive focus for understanding the polyvalent image of the rending of the temple veil which immediately follows in Luke’s account[140] in terms of the dissolution of its socially divisive social axis. (4) This image and these categories, then, serve as the primary interpretive background through which to process Jesus’ death and its effects. (5) The meaning of Jesus death is further underscored by the inclusive nature of response which a proper perception of Jesus death yields.

That is to say, in the death of Jesus, God himself[141] overturns the entire holiness/purity structure creating and sustaining lines of division between insider and outsider, Jew and Gentiles and the like. This is symbolized before Jesus’ death by the image of the ultimate outsider’s entrance into God’s presence in paradise/temple, and the rending of the temple veil (cf. Sylva 1990a, 169), and afterword by the positive response of both Gentile and Jew. Both the prelude and aftermath, then, narrow the interpretive focus of Jesus’ death to the point where it intersects with the social axis of sacred space.

While studies of these scenes which attempt to integrate socio-religious understandings of sacred space are a move in the right direction, failure to incorporate how Luke is balancing both positive and negative aspects of sacred space in accord with the process of articulationwill lead us to a myopic view of the role of the temple in this scene. This appears to be the case in Sylva’s treatment of this passage in that he has emphasized only the vertical axis of revelation, while overlooking the problematic horizontal socially segregating axis. As we have suggested, this aspect of sacred space is advanced throughout the narrative and plays a key role in this text. Simply to underscore Jesus’ communion with the God of the temple is to stop short. Rather, the God who acts in this scene is the one who overturns social conventions and saves through status transposition, the one who causes outsiders to become insiders, thereby undermining the temple’s social axis.[142]

When viewed through this focus, these images which attend Jesus’ death are enlightening in a number of ways. The symbolism involved in Jesus’ offer of salvation to the criminal is enriched to a significant degree by its traditional relationship to sacred space. In one sense, the offer of being “with me in paradise” graphically portrays Jesus’ profound ability to save in spatial terms, as Luke has been doing throughout his narrative. Because paradise and the temple were symbols of God’s presence and of holiness and of moral purity, the suggestion that Jesus’ death has brought such a criminal into God’s presence is significant. The deeper one penetrated the temple precincts the greater the sanctity one encountered. Moreover, imagery associated with the temple suggests a picture of divine sanctity and protection (1 Kgs 8:6-7; Isa 6:2-3; Ezek 44:5; Gen 3:24). By bringing this lowly criminal into the holy precincts Jesus’ death speaks of forgiveness and bestowal of righteousness in spatial terms. Indeed, Jesus’ death clearly effects a radical transformation of the temple institution given that an approach to God’s presence is proffered outside of any sacrificial, priestly or cultic mediation. In effect, the purity matrix which has constituted the barrier to such an approach has been overturned. Though the temple shall remain as an important symbolic locus throughout Acts, where the entrance into which by outsiders and the marginal continues to symbolize God’s salvation, but clearly the matrix of graded holiness has been compromised, as well as the world it mediates. When we recall how Luke has used the socio-religious dimension of space to characterize those who occupy such space, the presence of the repentant criminal in paradise is a marvelous picture of status transposition, transposition which is depicted spatially within discursive fields of the temple.

Moreover, Jesus’ promise of salvation “this day” (23:43) has less to do with strict chronology, in terms of personal eschatology or theories of intermediate states after death,[143] and more to do with the mythic dimension of time inscribed in the figuration of sacred space, that is, sacred time encoded in the symbolism of sacred space. This is conceived as a quality of time more genuine than the drift and flow of present reality.[144] This has been termed its protological character by J. D. Levenson, that which partakes of “the nature of the beginning of things, on analogy with the term eschatological” (Levenson 1985, 103). With the promise to be ushered into paradise there is the suggestion of a return to an Edenic quality of timeótime which is, as stated above, “always new, always just created” (J. D. Levenson 1985, 132). Moreover, these symbols suggest that in Jesus’ death a shift in the domain of time occurs—the end times have begun. This is depicted in evocative images which characterize eschatology as an expanded access to God’s presence and in terms which underscore both time and space—“this day—in paradise.”

As noted in Simeon’s prophecy (2:34-45), the advent of God’s inclusive salvation shall meet oppositional forces and there shall be a division in Israel. This is not only suggested by the cross-section of those who mock Jesus, but also by the darkness which is associated with his death.[145] Since Zechariah’s song (1:79), there have been associations of darkness with the enemies of God’s purpose. Darkness in Luke-Acts suggests the power of the evil spiritual realm, which has already been mentioned as engineering the death of Jesus (Luke 22:53; cf. 22:3, 28, 31, 40, 46). Moreover, confrontation with the power of satanic darkness is foundational to the programmatic mission statements of both Jesus and Paul (Luke 4:18; Acts 26:17-18). Consequently, the darkness which attends Jesus’ death suggests a climactic point in this conflict. If it is true that darkness should be understood to represent a diabolical offensive, and as, therefore, yet another member of Luke’s balanced pairs of responses to Jesus’ death, then the rending of the temple veil may also be understood to represent God’s response. The God of the temple rends the social fabric of the holiness purity matrix symbolized by the rending of the temple veil.[146] The God who has been overturning conventions and saving through the reversing of status through Jesus, now overturns the social axis of the temple at his death, in effect, laying a foundation for the centrifugal movement out from the temple for an inclusive, universal mission as manifest in Acts.

Even as in the eschatological discourse, where Luke associated the destruction of the sacred center with the commencement of a time of Gentile inclusion,[147] so here a present dimension of that period is inaugurated with the rending of the veil at the death of Jesus. Jesus’ words of warning to the Daughters of Jerusalem in verses (23:26-31) have already referred to this period in the immediate context with their oblique reference to a coming of a time of destruction (23:28-31). Accordingly, we note in Luke’s account of the death of Jesus a recurrence of the connections between the themes of the last days, the destruction of the socio-religious center and surprising images of inclusion which were foretold during Jesus’ eschatological discourse.

The Ascension of Jesus: Luke 24:50-53

With the final scene of Luke’s Gospel we may note his penchant for balance and symmetry in that both the first and the last scenes take place in the temple (cf. M. Parsons 1987, 73-77; G. W. Trompf 1979). Luke’s first volume concludes where it began, in the temple, at the heart of Judaism. It is necessary to inquire, however, as to the significance of the disciples’ presence in the temple. Luke has given clues early on with the inspired speech of Zechariah that worship is at the heart of God’s purpose in sending Messiah. Yet with the return to the temple, are we to simply understand that it now represents a positive locale for Christian worship? Does Luke now exhibit a positive perspective on the temple? Certainly this has been the perception of many scholars.[148]

However, this understanding fails to account adequately for either (1) the critical subtext disclosed through Luke’s narrative investment in this theme thus far or (2) how the temple continues to function in Acts. First, we must locate this passage within the larger contours of Luke’s narrative. As we have noted in Chapter Two, many scholars have underscored the fact that the pattern of the Infancy Narrative informs the pattern of the larger narrative of the Gospel. In the Infancy Narrative, however, we find that a pattern of displacement is suggested. Although the opening scene of Luke’s Gospel begins with a priest whose identity is rooted in the setting of the temple, it concludes with the amazing image of a young boy who is an outsider astounding the teachers at the temple. This is balanced by the reciprocal movement of Zechariah’s son’s storyline from temple to wilderness. This raises the specter of displacement of those official leaders connected to the temple. As we have underscored in the present chapter, this interpretation is clarified further in the transitional setting of the wilderness. In Jesus’ Jerusalem ministry, moreover, the temple has been portrayed as a place of contention, imperception and rejection; Jesus displaces and delegitimates the temple rulers whose authority resides in Jerusalem and the temple. With the final reference to the disciples, then, we find that those who have their origins in Galilee remain in Jerusalem, this pattern is reprised, and there is yet another foreshadowing of conflict with and displacement of the rulers of Israel. Lest we forget, they have just crucified the disciples’ teacher.

Indeed, we may stress that this is the pattern for each of the final passages of the four Jerusalem sections in Luke-Acts (Luke 1:5-2:52; 19:45-24:53; Acts 1:3-8:3; 21:15-23:32). The final scene of each of the four Jerusalem sections foreshadows and sets the stage for the important yet opposed role the characters shall play in the following Jerusalem scene. Accordingly, Jesus’ presence in the temple in the Infancy Narrative prefigures the climactic and confrontational role it shall play in his final ministry. (This is also true for the final conflict with the devil at the temple in Luke 4, with its challenges to authority and identity as well as conflict over scriptural interpretation.) As we shall see, the disciples’ presence and worship in the temple here anticipates their defining context in Acts 3-5; the temple shall again prove to be a site of conflict, witness and the displacement of rulers. The role of Stephen at the end of this Jerusalem section and Paul’s role in his death, then, suggests the role which Paul shall reprise in the final Jerusalem sectionóa Hellenistic Jew whose words and deeds are construed as critical of the temple. Consequently, even as was the case when Jesus returned to Nazareth with his parents, so with the return of the disciples to Jerusalemóeverything has changed.

The failure to account for the socio-religious role of the temple and how this has been thoroughly engaged throughout Luke’s narrative, as well as how each of the final Jerusalem scenes in Luke-Acts portend conflict has also undermined previous treatments of this passage. This appears to be the case in Mikeal Parsons’ otherwise exemplary literary treatment of this scene (1987). Parsons argues that this scene brings closure to several narrative threads: the return to Jerusalem (75), temple and Jerusalem scenes (76), and temple and synagogue conflict scenes (80-83; cf. N. Petersen 1978). Though Parsons is sensitive to the relationship of this scene to the Infancy Narrative in terms of a circular plot device, his failure to account for Luke’s nuanced engagement of the problematic socio-religious nature of the temple and its determinative influence on how one reads temple scenes in Luke-Acts contributes to a premature reading of resolution and closure in this scene.[149]

Luke, then, has not structured his narrative to simply reaffirm the traditionally positive sense of the temple locale, nor would this be in keeping with the temple’s depiction in the rest of this final Jerusalem section. First, Luke has included two parables, the Parable of the Pounds 19:11-27 and The Parable of the Vineyard Tenants 20:9-18, which have emphasized the rejection and replacement of the religious rulers in Jerusalem. Jesus then occupied the temple and preached the good news, delegitimating the temple authorities. Moreover, in the eschatological discourse, there is a link established between the destruction of Jerusalem and the time of Gentile response. Finally, the rending of the temple veil symbolizes an end to its divisive social axis which prejudges insider and outsider. Indeed, Luke’s point in the abiding presence of these Galilean outsiders both dramatizes the fact that this function has been overturned and spatially depicts their experience of salvation.

Even granting the requirements of narrative closure (cf. M. Parsons 1987, 65-113), Luke’s penchant for tidy symmetry, and his achievement of a transformed understanding of the temple, none of these aspects obscure the fact that neither Luke’s developing temple theme nor his narrative have reached a point of stasis—this is clearly not the end. The immediate context as well militates against such a view. The reference to the city and temple (24:47, 53) does not resolve all the narrative needs and, in fact, introduces new ones. Granted, Luke 24:52-53, when read separately from the rest of the narrative has a certain climactic and timeless quality to it. However, in light of 24:44-48, the presence of the disciples in the temple must be understood as (1) another suggestive image of outsiders remaining in a sacred space, (2) a proper obedient response to Jesus’ command and (3) as a preparatory stage for the following narrative.[150] In sweeping fashion, Jesus in 24:46 distills the essence of God’s saving purpose in the scriptures (cf. 24:31-32, 45), yielding three central tenants which are summed up in the coordinated infinitive clauses of this verse: (1) the Christ should suffer (paqei'n—46a), (2) rise from the dead (ajnasth'nai—46b), and (3) repentance should be preached (khrucqh'nai—47a). Of the three only the first two have been accomplished within Luke’s Gospel—the last remains to be fulfilled, as verses 48-49 emphasize. In terms of plot, then, the disciples’ presence in the temple serves a relative function as a staging area and point of origin for the future narrative trajectory, not merely as a terminus of the present narrative.[151] Moreover, with the command to prepare to move out to all nations we may already understand that the radical transformation of the temple, prefigured since the end of the Infancy Narrative, has already been actualized.

In several ways, verses 50-51 also relativize Jerusalem and the temple in their exclusive capacity as sacred center. First, the locale of Bethany as the point of Jesus’ departure is outside of Jerusalem (19:29-40), where an ascension between worlds might have been expected.[152] Moreover Jesus’ final act is reminiscent of the priestly blessing which is bestowed on exiting the temple (cf. Sir 5:20; R. Brown 1993, 280-81; J. Fitzmyer 1985, 1560.). As we have said, though Luke is not interested so much in depicting Jesus in the role of a priest (R. J. Dillon 1978, 909), he has suggested a transformed and displaced understanding of Jerusalem, the cult and of the priesthood (cf. H. Hendrickx 1984, 98). That is, the inability of Zechariah to bless the people at the conclusion of the opening scene of the Gospel is now effected by Jesus, outside the city.[153] There is a displacement of priestly prerogatives. Blessing comes through other channels, apart from priest and temple. This is an image which Luke has already suggested in his narrative (cf. 17:11-19). If worship is at the heart of God’s purpose, it also finds a transformed locus in Jesus. Jesus as a focus of worship apart from the temple is paired with worship of God in the temple,[154] thus underscoring the non-exclusive position of the temple as God’s means of blessing and salvation. Indeed, at this point in Luke’s narrative, both in terms of plot and function, Jerusalem and the temple have been relativized and decentered.

Conclusion

Building upon the patterns and categories established in Luke 1-2, the balance of Luke’s Gospel manifests two thematic emphases which intersect the twin axes of sacred space in a subtle yet pervasive manner. On the one hand, Luke is concerned to establish continuity with the story of Israel in the past as well as legitimate an inclusive salvation and mission. Luke’s Gospel does this by underscoring divine revelation through and the occupation of the sacred center, thereby exploiting its revelatory axis. On the other hand, Luke has to account for how God has now embraced the Gentiles as a part of his people in spite of the marginalizing capacity of the temple’s social axis. This latter dimension he has engaged in a number of ways throughout his Gospel. First, we observed the shifting of the narrative deixis to the wilderness where we find the beginning of the good news being preached and the formation of a new people in a liminal setting, free from the socially segregating capacity of the Jerusalem temple. Next, we noted how he continued to address these concerns throughout Jesus’ ministry, (1) in how he structured his narrative to focus on and critique socio-religous norms and conventions which embody these divisive and marginalizing characteristics, (2) through the geographical orientation of the narrative, and (3) through the characterization of Pharisees and their legal experts who also embody the negative practices and dispositions associated with the temple’s social axis.

In Jesus’ Jerusalem ministry, Jesus preaches the good news while occupying the socio--religious center, a locus where this message will have its full impact. Indeed, such provocation in and concerning the center escalates the conflict and precipitates his death. However, before this, Jesus confronts the temple leadership in the temple and deligitimates their authority to rule. In doing so, he implicates both the temple practices and the temple leadership in his condemnation, predicting in their downfall an expansion of God’s salvation. This in turn is depicted as being actualized in his death, which is attended by symbols of division and inclusion and a symbolic overturning of the socially divisive temple axis embodied in the rending of the temple veil. At the end of the Gospel we find the disciples at worship while awaiting empowerment for an inclusive, centrifugal mission to all nations. Already a radical shift has taken place at the sacred center. Hence, throughout his Gospel Luke continues to manifest the careful articulation of his twin foci of legitimation and critique through the complex interrelationship of plot, characterization, and socio-religious settings.

In this chapter, moreover, we have continued to dialogue with previous studies which have given attention to the significant role accorded the temple in Luke’s narrative. We have suggested, however, that the majority of scholarship on this theme is handicapped by at least three prevalent weaknesses. First, many studies appear to be working with comparative categories and theological questions extraneous to Luke’s narrative. These stem from the imposition of external theological debates upon Luke’s narrative or emerge from disjunctive and reductionistic categories derived from overdrawn contrasts with other writings of the New Testament. Neither of these approaches leave room to allow Luke’s issues to emerge from his narrative. Because of this, a good deal of scholarship in this vein appears to be fundamentally asking the wrong sorts of questions, ones which have little relevance for Luke’s Gentile audience.

Second, in certain studies, the important distinction between the people and the leaders of Israel in Luke’s critique appears to have spilled-over into a premature absolution of and apology for the temple institution. However, the issue is more formidable than this; there are still problems to be overcome in the fundamental nature of this institution, particularly for an expanded embrace of God’s salvation and an inclusive mission to all people as envisioned in Acts. This relates to our final point. That is, many approaches are handicapped by a myopic view of the complex character of sacred space. Though there are notable exceptions, for the most part there is little engagement with the socio-cultural dimensions of sacred space and the nuanced manner in which Luke pursues this theme. Because the temple continues to function as a prominent locus of revelation, prayer and teaching in Luke, scholars have regularly emphasized the positive import of the temple’s revelatory axis, thereby often eclipsing the narrative’s engagement with the problematic nature of its divisive social axis. Because of this, there has been an attendant failure to account for how even the revelatory axis is being relativized by divine revelation in more marginal settings. As we will see, this pattern continues in Acts.

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[1] The ambiguity of this phrasing, “even to this place” (e{w" w|de) leaves room for understanding the temple itself as an object of theological orientation in Jesus’ teaching (cf. W. C. Robinson 1962; S. Brown 1969). This dimension of Jesus’ teaching appears to have been correctly perceived by the temple leadership and, to a degree, informs the religious motivations underlying the charges brought before Pilate. Indeed, it is only Luke who, in this sense of the entire orientation of Jesus’ ministry, alludes to the temple as constituting an issue related to the death of Jesus (cf. J. B. Tyson 1986, 159; 88-90).

[2] In extended narratives such as Luke-Acts, these narrative summaries function as essential retrospective reference points in the reading process. Compare similar encompassing summaries of Jesus’ ministry, especially those which posit the pivotal significance of Jerusalem, e.g., Luke 24:47; Acts 1:8; 1:22a; 10:37-39. On the retrospective processing of narrative in the reading process, see Iser 1972; P. J. Rabinowitz 1987, 158-69.

[3] On how cities condense the culture and values of those civilizations in one place, see Eck 1987, 1-2. The city of Jerusalem was considered to function as a sacred center dating at least from the Davidic monarchy well into medieval times, as witnessed by the many representations of the City of Jerusalem and the Holy Sepulcher shown as the exact center and navel of the earth (cf. J. G. Davies 1986, 382ñ92; H. Nibley 1984, 23).

[4] On the influential role of the inaugural segments of narrative in literary theory generally, see R. Barthes 1979, 123-24; M. Perry 1979; S. Rimmon-Kenan 1983, 120; P. J. Rabinowitz 1987, 58-64; F. Escal 1995, 151-52. For this topic in relation to Luke’s narrative specifically, see R. Tannehill 1986, 13-44; 1996, 40; C. Talbert 1982, 15-17; M. Parsons 1987, 151-86; M. Coleridge 1993, 28-50.

[5] On the role of narrative summaries, see G. Genette1980, 86-112; S. Chatman 1978, 222-24.

[6] For example, Luke’s use of the passive voice in his economic account of Jesus’ baptism eclipses any active role which John may have played at this stage. However, John continues to function as an important point of reference throughout Luke-Acts (cf. Luke 7:18-35; 9:9; 11:1; 16:16; Acts 1:5, 22; 10:37; 11:16; 13:24-25; 18:25; 19:3-4).

[7] Pace e.g., C. Talbert 1982, 15. As we have suggested in Chapter Two, the Infancy Narrative not only establishes patterns relevant for the immediate context, but also patterns which intend the narrative’s global system, played out over the length of Luke’s two volumes (cf. R. Tannehill 1986, 52-53). This would seem to be the overriding concern of Luke’s chronology here rather than the separation of John’s and Jesus’ ministries, pace Conzelmann (1960, 21).

[8] Even so, the dialectic tension between temple and wilderness plays a prominent role in both Luke 1-2 and 3:1-4:13. Both wilderness and temple are found in each of these sections, serving as climactic settings for narrative cycles. E.g., in 1:80 the wilderness functions as a climactic setting in John’s story which began in the temple, whereas 4:9 serves as the climax of Jesus’ temptations, which began in the wilderness. This deictic shift lays a foundation for the momentous shift from a centripetal to a centrifugal orientation of the temple which is manifest in Acts (e.g., Acts 1:8; 8:1; 22:21). However, most treatments of Luke’s deictic shift from Luke to Acts merely note the facts but do not elaborate on the implications, e.g., Brawley 1987, 118.

[9] This theme also persists in the subsequent story of Jesus’ Nazareth sermon (Luke 4:16-30) where again Jesus’ paternity is an issue for those in the synagogue and leads to a similar diabolical climax (3:22b; 4:29-30).

[10] See for example this theme in the work of cultural geographers such as E.W. Soja who observes, “Space is fundamental in any form of communal life; space is fundamental in any exercise of power” (Soja 1989, 19; cf. B. Werlen 1993; J. Neyrey 1991b).

[11] This introduction strengthens interpretive ties between Luke 1-2 and all that follows in Luke’s narrative. We have already suggested the complex nature of Zechariah’s character. On the one hand, because of his connection to the temple, he is associated with the oppositional nature of the Chief Priests and High Priests who are aligned against God’s purpose. On the other hand, he is a member of the regular priesthood who are not depicted as oppositional in Luke’s narrative (Luke 1:5; 5:14; 6:4; 10:31; 17:14; Acts 6:7). In this sense he personifies a divided Israel, a theme which continues to intersect the storyline of his household in the person of his son, John. This aspect of division emerges several times in the narrative by references back to John’s baptism (Luke 7:18-35; 20:1-8). Moreover, Zechariah also undergoes a transformation in the narrative and because of his various connections and prominent role as the first active character, he stands as a symbol and focal point for the possibility of personal, corporate, and institutional transformation.

[12] John enters the story once again in the setting where he was last seen in the narrative. On Luke’s careful use of such stage setting, see the accounts of Philip (Acts 8:40; 21:8 ) and Paul (Acts 9:30; 11:25).

[13] See e.g., Isa 1:1; 6:1; 7:1; 14:28; Jer 1:2-3; Ezek 1:2; Dan 1:1; Hos 1:1; Amos 1:1; Zeph 1:1; Hag 1:1; Zech 7:1.

[14] For possible theological motivations of Herod’s inclusion, see J. T. Sanders 1987, 23.

[15] See Josephus Ant 18.26, 35, 95; J. A. Fitzmyer 1981, 458; contra Brawley 1987, 117.

[16] Luke’s leadership terminology is sometimes inconsistent because of the mix of the Sannhedrin. However, it always mentions chief priests because of “this emphasis upon the official character of the leadership as connected with the main institutions of power, the temple and the Sannhedrin” (H. Moxnes 1988, 69).

[17] On the widespread impact of John, see Josephus Ant 18. 116-19 and the presence of disciples even at Ephesus, Acts 19:3.

[18] See R. A. Horsley and J. S. Hanson 1985; W. J. Heard 1992.

[19] See, e.g., CD 8.12-15; 1QS 8:12b-16a; 1QS 9:17-20.

[20] See Josephus Ant 18.116-19; On the understanding of this prolepsis as underscoring prophetic succession, see L. T. Johnson 1991, 66-68.

[21] See U. W. Mauser 1963.

[22] E.g., Isa 43:16-19; 48:20-21; 63:11-14; Jer 2:2-3; 16:14-15; 23:7-8; 31-34; Hos 2:16-17.

[23] This theme also informs the background of Jesus’ temptations in the wilderness, particularly the first temptation concerning bread in the wilderness (4:3; cf. J. Nolland 1989, 176).

[24] On the conceptual background of liminality and antistructure, see M. Eliade 1959 and V. Turner 1969. For the relevance of these concepts regarding the Bible specifically, see R. Cohn 1981.

[25] See W. Wink 1968, 42-86.

[26] Nevertheless, the wilderness persists as a prominent symbol in Luke-Acts and places a special emphasis on the baptism of John as the starting place for the story of the good news (Luke 7:29, 30; 20:4; Acts 1:22; 10:37; 13:24; 18:25; 19:3, 4). Moreover, in Stephen’s speech the wilderness repeatedly functions as a positive symbol in contrast to the period subsequent to the temple’s building under Solomon (Acts 7:30, 36, 38, 42, 44; cf. Ravens 1995, 71).

[27] Cf. H. Sch¸rmann 1984, 159-60.

[28] On the role of ascription in Judaism at this time, particularly concerning the power and privilege of the priesthood, see Eilberg-Schwartz 1990, 115-234. Given the fact that Annas was no longer officially functioning as High Priest at this time, Luke’s reference to both Annas and Caiaphas in 3:2 suggests a dynastic ascription of power and status (cf. Josephus Ant. 18.2.1-2; 18.4.3; 18.5.3; 20.9.1.)

[29] See L. T. Johnson 1991, 68. For a similar interrelationship between baptism, the breaking down of divisive social barriers, and becoming “Abraham’s offspring” in Paul, see Gal 3:27-29 (cf. H. C. Kee 1989, 89).

[30] Within the Infancy Narrative, a similar contrast and status transposition is suggested between Zechariah and Mary in that, despite her insignificance in terms of lineage, gender and age, she becomes the focus of God’s gracious action and more fully embodies a proper response. On baptism in the wilderness as a setting for status transposition, see M. McVann 1991, 333-60.

[31] One may hear echoes here (3:7, 15) of the multitudes representative of Israel who assembled at the temple in Luke’s opening scene (1:10, 21) and a prefiguring of “all the people” assembled to hear Jesus’ final teaching in the temple (20:1-21:38; cf. J. B. Chance 1988, 61).

[32] We may note in this context a mutually reinforcing revelation: God’s word comes to John in wilderness; God’s word speaks of a voice in the wilderness; John gives voice to God’s word in wilderness.

[33] John’s preaching in the wilderness further advances Isaianic and universalistic themes suggested in the Infancy Narrative (1:17, 19, 76; 2:1, 29-32) and is strengthened by the citation of the Isaianic text which is more inclusive than its citation in Mark or Matthew. These emphases surface again in Jesus’ inaugural sermon (4:16-30), underscoring the parallel development and continuity of the ministries of John and Jesus. Hence, Isaianic texts concerning themes of universalism provide a scriptural lens through which to interpret these ministries as well as scripturally grounding these Lukan emphases.

[34] For example, the revelations to Zechariah, Simeon and Anna in the Jerusalem temple are articulated with the more surprising settings and recipients of Mary in Nazareth and shepherds in the fields near Bethlehem.

[35] See L. E. Keck 1970-71, 41-67.

[36] See M. D. Johnson 1969, 321-52.

[37] Cf. Luke 4:1, 14, 18-19; Acts 1:8; 2; 10:37-38.

[38] On the data which suggest that Luke has rearranged the original order of the temptations as reflected in Matthew, see Fitzmyer 1981, 507; Reitzel 1979, 520-39; W. Wilkens 1974, 262-72; S. Brown 1969, 6-19.

[39] This connection is underscored by the fact that Satan is not depicted as personally present outside of Jerusalem, though the intervening ministry of Jesus can hardly be characterized as free from diabolical conflict, pace Conzelmann (cf. 4:31-44; 8:26-39; 9:1-6, 37-43, 49-50; 10:13-20; 11:14-26; 13:10-17; cf. S. Garrett 1989, 37-60; D. D. Sylva 1990a, 160).

[40] This is related to the sending of the Seventy and the conflict encountered with diabolical forces, Luke 10:1-20. Jerusalem will also be the first setting for this conflict in Acts and the site of the first martyr (Acts 2-7).

[41] See e.g., Jub. 11:5; 22:16-17; Mart. Isa. 1:9; 2:4; T. Job 2:2-3:5; 23:11; 26:26; CD 122-3; Adam and Eve 9:1-11:3; cf. S. Garrett 1989, 39, 129.

[42] Even at the transfiguration, Jerusalem is prefigured as the locus of fulfillment of the law and prophets. “Luke’s version of the transfiguration account suggest that the proper role of Moses and Elijah is to point forward to Jesus and what he is to do in Jerusalem” (J. B. Tyson 1992, 69; cf. M. Bachmann 1980, 171-368).

[43] This particularly seems to be the case in the question posed concerning the legality of tribute rendered to Caesar (Luke 20:20-26) or that posed by the Sadducees concerning the resurrection (Luke 20:27-40). The multitudes who welcome Jesus’ temple ministry in the beginning also seem to be influenced somehow by Satan at the end of this period (22:47; cf. J. B. Tyson 1992, 45-6).

[44] On the theme of Jesus’ approbation in this section, see G. H. P. Thompson 1960, 1-12.

[45] Iser’s work has been located, by some, as being toward the formalist end of reception oriented critics. I believe that this is the case only because he has accorded the text a place as a full-partner in the act of reading and that his theory grapples with the text itself more extensively than most regarding the reading transaction. Most of my incorporation of Iser is drawn from his often overlooked views of the text itself, as distinguished from the phenomenology of reading or the interaction between the twoóthough these also play a prominent role. Iser’s theory is rigorously grounded in his model of the text, including his delineation of the implied reader which is described as a textual attribute. “[The implied reader] embodies all those predispositions necessary for a literary work to exercise its effect-predispositions laid down, not by an empirical out-side reality, but by the text itself. . . . The concept of the implied reader is therefore a textual structure anticipating the presence of a recipient without necessarily defining him” (1978, 34, cf. also 36-37).

[46] A good deal of the theory discussed in this section stems originally from its application to fictional narratives. Nevertheless, this should not rule out its heuristic value when applied to a historical/theological narrative such as Luke-Acts. Indeed, the recent works of Hayden White (1973, 1978) and Paul Ricoeur (1978) have significantly narrowed the gap between these two genre, particularly in regard to their narrative and rhetorical conventions. See also the underscoring of this theme in the works of E. Auerback 1953; B. Stock 1978; and M. Krieger 1993. Moreover, Iser is often comparing the literary text with the reality or scientific texts, and we may mistakenly lump texts with historical referents, such as Luke-Acts, with the latter. However, this would be a misunderstanding of his own categorization of the matter (cf. Iser 1978, 53).

[47] This is analogous to what we have referred to in Chapter Two as the principle of pertinence as Roland Barthes has termed it (Barthes 1979, 114-15).

[48] In this sense what R. L. Brawley notes of Luke’s discourse is true. “The wide array of oppositions suffusing the discourse maps out a boundary between the antitheses. Variety and diversity create the illusion that the discourse is mapping out multiple bound­aries, but in reality the multiplicity is reiteration of but one boundary. Oppositions run over the same tracks and reinforce each other. In other words, variation and substitution allow the discourse to repeat antitheses, and the repetition builds up the symbolic voice in equivalences” (Brawley 1990, 108).

[49] See J. Neyrey 1991b on social mapping.

[50] For a summary on Luke’s emphasis on the periphery, see J. T. Sanders 1987, 147.

[51] Luke’s narrative, then, may be understood to be providing new categories of knowledge and perception for the reality that has come to pass in the midst of his community (Luke 1:1-4; cf. D. Patte 1990, 14-15).

[52] To quote D. Patte concerning this common pattern “the introduction presents this then as problematic while the conclusion presents it as a resolved issue” (D. Patte 1990, 14).

[53] This is not unlike what takes place on the extended journey to Jerusalem itself. Luke is moving in the domains of resocialization and the sociology of knowledge.

[54] E.g., H. Conzelmann 1960; J. A. Fitzmyer 1981, 166-71.

[55] Cf. Luke 10:38-42; 13:22-30, 31-33; 14:25-35; 17:11-19; 18:31-34, 35-43; 19:11-27, 28-40; 19:41-44.

[56] For an overview of scholarly schools of thought regarding Luke’s central section, see J. L. Resseguie 1975; M. Parsons 1987, 232 n 151; D. P. Moessner 1983, 576-578.

[57]Luke has achieved this by including two passion predictions by Jesus within this chapter (9:18-22; 43b-45). As Jesus moves to another phase of ministry and prepares for the final journey to Jerusalem, Luke begins to increasingly underscore this aspect of Jesus’ mission. While both of these predictions are also found in Mark, Luke has emphasized them at this point by locating them in closer proximity to one another, by omission of intervening Markan material, and by omitting any reference to the resurrection with the second passion prediction (Mark 9:31b) (cf. O’Toole 1985, 79; Tannehill 1986, 216; Talbert 1982, 105).

[58] Herod is connected with Jesus’ death during the journey as well (13:31-33) and only in Luke’s Gospel does Jesus appear before Herod (23:6-13). The Herodian rulers, moreover, always appear in the context of a (mortal) threat to God’s messengers in Luke-Acts (Acts 12:1-5; 25:12-26:32; cf. O’Toole 1985, 79).

[59] In these figures we find a personification of God’s will and purpose as revealed in scripture that testifies to the necessity of Jesus’ suffering characterized as his exodus. When Luke refers to Jesus’ exodus in 9:31 it is not merely reference to his death but to the larger sweep of his life, death, resurrection, and ascension. Jesus shall later speak to the disciples on the road to Emmaus (24:27) of all of the scriptures as referring to the course of his life.

[60] On the phenomenological parallels between liminal settings such as the wilderness and journies and pilgrimages, see D. Carrasco 1990; V. Turner 1969; V. Turner and E. Turner 1978.

[61] Luke later connects the disciples to this important journey by speaking of them as those who came with Jesus up from Galilee to Jerusalem (Luke 23:49, 55; Acts 1:21; 13:31). On the significance of the travel narrative to the topic of discipleship, see D. Tiede 1980, 57; D. Gill 1970; B. Reicke 1959.

[62] Evans notes that Jesus’ lament is found only in Luke and is dependent heavily upon the language of prophetic tradition (Jer 6:6; Ezek 4:2; 21:6-12; C. A. Evans 1982, 547-48).

[63] The disciples also embody the acrimonious and divisive outlook in their desire to call down fire on this village, v 54. On the extensive spatially oppositional discursive structures in this section, see Brawley 1990, 191.

[64] This lack of progress since 9:51 as well as the significance of the geography and the liminal setting of “the border” is one of the red flags which alert one that this is not merely a geographical journey but is theological in nature. On the liminality of boundaries, see Eliade 1961, 43; J. Neyrey 1991b, 271-306.

[65] This act is particularly striking given Luke-Acts’ emphasis on the idolatrous nature of worshipping anything less than God (cf., e.g., Acts 14:15-18).

[66] On the relationship between Pharisees, temple authorities and scribes in Luke-Acts, see Chapter One  n. 47.

[67] Pharisees also suggest an opposition stemming from Jerusalem foreshadowed in the Galilee section with the first mention of Pharisees and scribes from that locale (5:17), which sets in motion a heightening of conflict climaxing in 6:11. Moreover, Luke 20:5 in addressing the temple leadership refers back to Luke 7:30 where Pharisees are present. Hence, there is an underlying connection between these two leadership groups implied on some level (cf. L. T. Johnson 1991, 304).

[68] On the widespread influence of this perspective, see Josephus Ag. Ap. 1.42-43; 2.227-28, 232-35, 272-73 (cf. Stambaugh and Balch 1986, 99-100).

[69] In the Bible, the priestly system of the purity code reflects the creation account of Genesis 1; this account is replicated or copied in the temple structure and serves as an organizing metaphor of sacredness with implications for all aspects of society. “Purity rules are symbols—a language—which express and reflect larger social concerns. The rules work in concert with other structures of thought to deliver and support a common message” (D. P. Wright 1992, 739-40; cf. M. Douglas 1975, 249-75).

[70] The one time that we do find a Pharisee in the context of the temple (18:9-14) these characteristics are clearly featured. The horizontal, social axis of this sacred space is underscored both in the separation between the two central characters as well as the fact that the Pharisee’s prayer is self-referential and horizontal in nature, i.e., he speaks of himself and the tax collector, underlining their distinctions. Interestingly, Weinert has included 18:10 as one of the verses which underscores communion and closeness to God associated with the sanctuary (1981, 87). Certainly, this is not the case for the tax collector who stands far off.

[71] Since they are in reality a lay group, the classification of Pharisees as authorities differs from that of the temple leadership. Nevertheless, Pharisees function in Luke’s narrative with a similar importance in terms of extending the temple purity system (cf. Tannehill 1986, 169; H. Moxnes 1988, 17; J. B. Tyson 1986, 64-72). The only group that crosses these lines, as we have noted, are the scribes. Scribes, whether associated with the temple authorities or Pharisees are uniformly presented in a bad light as “thoroughgoing villains” and “unredeemed and probably irredeemable villainy” (Tyson 1986, 76-9). This is distinct from the Pharisees in both Luke and Acts, particularly in the fact that the Pharisees are separated from any role in the scenes that lead up to Jesus’ death. On this perspective and its relationship to Luke’s distinction between the people and their leaders, see R. F. O’Toole (1984).

[72] This perspective would be at variance with that of R. L. Brawley’s understanding of how the Pharisees function in Luke-Acts based on their continuing status in his own time as well as his suggestion that Luke may be interacting with a tradition which understands Jerusalem as the eschatological center of the kingdom of God (1987, 84-106).

[73] As we have suggested, the catalyst for the allegorization of sacred places or centers can often be their destruction. However, with the loss of their center the Pharisees “successfully transferred the sacred temple space into the study hall, into the Torah itself.” Rabbinic Judaism taught that it was through the study of the Torah that the sanctuary and the temple were created. “Indeed, God has created the very heavens and earth through the instrumentality of the Torah. The light of the Torah illuminated a spiritual world which was hidden for the righteous” (Basser 1985, 116). As was the case with others in the Hellenistic period, they overcame their loss of center by semantic extension: the Torah becoming their alternative centering-structuring object which an individual could “enter” through its study, potentially extending the “zone of the sacred” to anywhere (Bosker 1985, 299; cf. W. D. Davies 1991, 69).

Though Jewish religious life changed markedly with the destruction of the temple in 70 C.E., the temple’s hermeneutic importance and ideological influence was not diminished. Yet this influence flowed in different directions in two distinct streams of tradition: Pharisaic Judaism and Christianity. One reason that Pharisaic Judaism was able to survive the loss of such a preeminent institutional center was the remarkably transposable nature of its system, as witnessed in its Mishnaic trajectory (cf. Neusner 1978, 13; Stambaugh and Balch 1986, 100; Kee 1989, 83-84; Renwick 1991). One may note throughout the writings of the New Testament, on the other hand, a selective incorporation and transformation of the symbolic meaning of the temple (cf. N. T. Wright 1992, 365-66; Clements 1965, xi).

[74] Even if Jesus emphasizes a message which by implication leaves no place for the temple cult, priesthood, or Sadducees; for the Pharisees, at least, the significance of the temple persists because of the generative, transposable nature of its system (cf. Kee 1989, 86). With the destruction of the Jerusalem temple in 70 C.E., the impetus for the transposition of its purity system to other contexts would have been all the more heightened. This may also shed light on Luke’s focus.

[75] From the beginning Luke portrays Jesus’ ministry as emphasizing a stream of biblical tradition which emphasizes the accessibility of God’s grace to outsiders and Gentiles, free from religious criteria and the mediation of cultic institutions (e.g. Luke 4:18-21; 25-27; 7:18-23; 11:29-32). Yet even in doing so he communicates his message in a context which emphasizes positive aspects of the temple as a locus of power, revelation and religious meaning.

[76] However, our own understanding of Luke’s characterization of the Pharisees is at variance with that of Darr, who overstates their unchanging nature despite his own acknowledgment of the reformulation of a reader’s expectations. For a more thorough engagement and critique of Darr, see Appendix A.

[77] On this theme see D. Hamm 1986 and R. A. Culpepper 1994.

[78] For example Paul the Pharisee in Acts is a startling counterexample to such a construal.

[79] Pharisees are identified with Galilee and undesignated places and are invested with a significant amount of characterization, while the temple leadership or priestly block is restricted to Jerusalem and receives little characterization; that which they do receive is uniformly negative (cf. Tyson 1986, 64, 76). Moreover, Pharisees disappear from the scene during Jesus’ Jerusalem ministry and crucifixion only to reemerge in Acts (5:34; 15:5; 23:6-9; 26:5; D. P. Moessner 1990). This would appear to be a problem with such studies which lump Jesus’ opponents together (e.g. J. D. Kingsbury 1991; M. A. Powell 1990).

[80] “An anti-subject is not an opponent. An opponent opposes the subject at certain moments of the pursuit of his or her own aim. It is this incidental opposition which determines the structural position. An anti-subject pursues his or her own object, and this pursuit is , at a certain moment, at cross purposes with that of the first subject. When an actant has his or her own program, his or her own aims, and acts to achieve this aim, s/he is an autonomous subject” (Bal 1985, 32).

[81] In such a warning one may also hear echoes of Satan’s offer of premature deliverance in the final temptation at the temple (4:9).

[82] On the concept of actantial relations and narrative roles, see G. Prince 1987; M. Bal 1980; S. Chatman 1978.

[83] Or it may be that in certain contexts of conflict, such as when they are functioning in their role as interpreters of the Law, that they are negatively characterized, as opposed to the temple authorities who invariably appear in a negative light.

[84] Of course, this may be stating the obvious but the obvious may at times be eclipsed by the symmetry of Luke’s Jerusalem narrative (cf. J. B. Tyson 1992, 93). Within the basic rules of narrative configuration, repeated references to the temple, as noted in the narrative deixis of Luke’s central section and its explicit and implicit association with key events and contexts along the way, have fostered heightened expectations of climactic thematic development in this new setting of Jesus’ ministry (cf. M. Bal 1980, 63-66; S. Chatman 1978; P J. Rabinowitz 1987, 110-30).

[85] This standoff is overcome through Satan’s role in influencing Judas to accomplish the separation of Jesus from the crowd and Jesus’ placement in the hands of the priestly authorities (cf. J. B. Tyson 1986, 121; L. T. Johnson 1991, 332; S. Brown 1969, 82-97).

[86] On contemporary analogies to this parable from the life of Archelaus and Herod the Great, see Josephus J. W. 2.80-100; Ant 14.370-89; 15.6.

[87] The action of setting Jesus on the colt (v 35) further underscores the bestowal of kingship on the part of the people. The crowd’s statement concerning “Peace in heaven” (v 38b), however, may suggest a contrast with the angelic announcement to the shepherds of “peace on earth” (2:14) portending a change of mood from the positive climate which attended Jesus’ birth. Or this may be an example of misperception coupled with premature expectation.

[88] Cf. J. A. Ziesler 1978, 150.

[89] Cf. E. P. Sanders 1985, 61-76; C. K. Barrett, 1978; B. Chilton 1992; V. Eppstein 1964; G. Schneider 1977, 391-92; W. R. Herzog 1992; R. A Horsley 1987; R. H. Stein 1996, 185-196.

[90] We may also include how the Samaritans’ possession of their own temple forms a significant divisive background for our understanding of other Lukan passages, e.g., 9:52-55; 10:25-37; 17:11-19.

[91] It also paves the way for the disciples’ future occupation of the temple in Acts 2-5, after the reconstitution of the twelve as Israel’s new leaders, subsequent to Judas’ defection. Indeed, Jesus and his disciples occupy the center from Luke 20 to Acts 5. Hence, there is the implication of displacement of the priestly function in this capacity. Cf. L. T. Johnson 1977, 119-21 on this theme.

[92] In the ancient Near East there was an abiding interrelationship between the temple and law. “The building or restoration of a temple is perceived as the moving force behind a restating or ‘codifying’ of basic legal principles, and of the ‘righting’ and organizing of proper social order. The building or refurbishing of temples is central to the covenant process” (Lundquist 1984, 59).

[93] This connection is suggested by the comment concerning the people as having been “persuaded” (pepeismevno") that John is a prophet in the perfect tense (cf. S. Sheeley 1992). Matthew makes a similar point in his Gospel at this juncture with the parable of the two sons (Matt 21:28-32).

[94] Contra Bachmann (1980, 261-89) who suggests that the law is the sole focus of Jesus’ teaching, and Chance (1988, 59-60) who suggests eschatology, though this is only partially true.

[95] The phrase “by what authority you/I do these things” (ejn poiva/ ejxousiva/ tau'ta poiei'V/poiw') forms an inclusio for 20:2-8 and draws attention by reiteration of the parallel phraseology used by Jesus as a boy in the temple (2:49).

[96] Cf. J. Dawsey 1984, 159-60.

[97] Cf. Luke 13:6-17; J. B. Tyson 1986,158.

[98] E.g. Luke 6:12-16; cf. L.T. Johnson 1991, 294.

[99] Luke’s pattern is closely related to the order of his narrative; the son is cast out and then killed in contrast to the Markan order (23:26; cf. Mark 12:8; T. Schramm 1971, 150-67; L. T. Johnson 1991, 306).

[100] Luke is characteristically attentive to characters entering and exiting scenes (cf. Luke 1:11, 23, 26, 38, 39, 56; 2:9, 15, 16, 20, 22, 27, 39, 41, 51). Hence, this fact is not without significance.

[101] These episodes in particular are reminiscent of Jesus’ previous victory over the devil at the temple because of (1) the temple setting, (2) the desire to destroy Jesus and (3) the scripture-focused dispute and the triumph of Jesus through a critical discernment of scripture in accord with God’s purpose.

[102] On the symbiotic legitimating relationship of the sacerdotal and juridicial systems at the sacred center, see J. Z. Smith 1987, 54-55.

[103] The competing force of Divine/Religious and Roman political rule have already formed a background at the birth of Jesus which takes place in the context of the Roman census. See also R. Cassidy 1978, 55-61.

[104] For an examination of the Jewish people from the perspective emphasizing their full complicity in Jesus’ death, see R. P. Carlson 1991, 82-102 ; J. T. Sanders 1987, 13. For the opposite conclusion based upon inconsistency in the narrative role of the people, see J. B. Chance, 1991, 50-81. And on the Lukan emphasis on the complicity of both Gentiles and Jews in Jesus’ death, see J. B. Tyson 1986, 119.

[105] Scribes are consistently depicted as opponents throughout 11:54; 19:47; 20:19; 22:2, 66; 23:10; Acts 4:5; 6:12; 22:30-23:15; cf. J. Elliott 1989, 221.

[106] On the theme of divine assistance in such situations, see 21:13-15 and for its various manifestations in the life of Paul, see B. Rapske 1994, 391-422.

[107] There is a certain continuity between Jesus’ answer to the Sadducees, which three times mentioned sonship (vv 34, 36b, 36c) and his query concerning the Son of David.

[108] The most recent usage of Son of David language since the Infancy Narrative (1: 27, 32, 69; 2:4, 11) was by the blind beggar at Jericho underscoring the nearness of Jesus’ approach to Jerusalem. Ironically, even the blind beggar proved more perceptive than those in Jerricho, or than Jesus’ opponents here.

[109] The leaders’ interaction with Jesus throughout is depicted as one of pretense, cf. 20:20, 23.

[110] In this aspect they share characteristics with the Pharisees who are depicted as “lovers of money” Luke 16:14; cf. J. Elliott 1989, 234-5.

[111] Luke’s narrative employs widows here as a traditional character archetype of one who is completely dependent on God (Luke 2:37; 4:26; 7:12; 18:3, 5; Acts 4:25; 6:1; 9:39, 41; cf. B. B. Thurston 1989; Malina and Rohrbaugh 1992, 397).

[112] See Josephus J. W. 6.282; M. Shek. 5.6; cf. L. T. Johnson 1991, 315.

[113] See for example, Luke 1:53; 6:24; 12:16-21; 16:1-31; 18:18-30.

[114] Contra Weinert (1981, 86), who includes this passage among those which demonstrate the temple as a context of “generous dedication to God’s service” and “conscientious observance of ancestral religious custom.” Weinert contends that Luke has redacted his Markan source to soften Mark’s criticism of the temple as “grossly materialistic or debased” (86). However, with its close connection implied between 20:45-47 and 21:1-4, we would maintain that the Lukan critique is even more emphatic.

[115] We should recall that Luke’s use of poor is an inclusive category, not merely limited to those marginalized within Israel but also non-Jews and Gentiles.

[116] See J. Carroll 1988b.

[117] See M. Bachmann 1980, 171-368.

[118] For Luke, this phrase suggests scriptures such as 2 Chr 36:21; Jer 4:7; 7:34; 22:5; 25; 44; Ps 73:19; while for Mark, it would suggest scriptures such as Dan 9:27; 11:31; 12:11; Marshall 1978, 772.

[119] This viewpoint is subtly articulated but may be discerned at various points such as Luke’s reference to the locale of the final temptation as simply “Jerusalem” (4:9) as compared to Matthew’s “the holy city” (Matt 4:5).

[120] Cf. J. Jervell 1972; J. Carroll 1988b; S. G. Wilson 1973.

[121] Contra Chance (1988, 56-62) who prematurely locates the restoration of the sacred center for its eschatological function already during Jesus’ teaching ministry, and this without any fundamental transformation. On the quest for God’s presence generally in Judaism of this period, D. A. Renwick 1991, 33-43.

[122] For Acts’ reprise of these aspects in the life of Paul, see B. Rapske 1994, 399.

[123] Though it does not stand or fall on the issue, this understanding would be strengthened further if the presence of ejrhvmo" at Luke 13:35 concerning Jesus’ saying about Jerusalem’s abandoned house were determined to be original (cf. Marshall 1978, 576).

[124] See also the Emmaus episode (24:13-35) where the interpretive meaning of Jesus’ death also forms the crux of the passage’s careful chiastic structure.

[125] See J. B. Chance 1988, 70-71.

[126] This insight is underscored by the employment of Jesus’ name, which has been used in the narrative thus far only by the most marginalized and demonized seeking to be healed (Luke 4:34; 8:28; 17:13; 18:38; cf. Johnson 1991, 378).

[127] See the example of Peter, Luke 5:1-11; cf. D.A. Neale 1991.

[128] The mockery by one criminal both underscores the depth of degradation which Jesus endures as well as his act of solidarity with the most marginal of society in accord with his mission to seek and to save that which was lost.

[129] As seen in the Infancy Narrative, Simeon’s words in the temple contain images of both division and inclusion which shall attend the salvation which Jesus effects (2:34-35).

[130] Several times Luke-Acts draws upon Roman soldiers and centurions as among those Gentiles who respond positively to the good news or as examples of faith (Luke 3:10-14; 7:1-10; Acts 10:1-4).

[131] See, e.g., 7:1-10, 36-50; 8:43-48; 17:11-19; 18:1-8, 9-14, 15-17; 19:1-10.

[132] Note the emphasis on sight and perception language in contexts of the universal experience of salvation thus far in Luke (e.g., 2:30-32; 3:6; cf. J. Darr 1992, 57) and as programmatic for Jesus’ and Paul’s ministries (Luke 4:18-19; Acts 26:17-18), as well as its continuing emphasis in Acts (cf. 9:15; 11:15-20; 14:1; 15:9, 16-18; 18:4; 19:10, 17; 26:19, 23).

[133] For the role of sacred space as “model or a microcosm of the cosmos as a whole,” see H. Turner 1979, 26. For a succinct account of the parallels between the temple and Eden, see J. D. Levenson 1985, 127-32).

[134] On the temple reflecting garden and center imagery, see, e.g., 1 Enoch 25:4; 26:1; Jub. 8:12, 19; 4 Ezra 7:36; Josephus8 J.W. 3.3.5; Sib. Or. 5.248-50; cf. G. J. Wenham 1985; Levenson 1985, 135; cf. 91; J. Jeremias 1968, 765-67.) Note also the mixing of both paradise and temple imagery in Revelation (2:7; 3:12; 21:16; 21:22-22:5). Both the temple and the tabernacle embody a theology of creation and God’s presence within it. Consequently there are parallels between the Genesis creation account and the building of both the tabernacle and the temple. For example, the significance of the light of creation and the light in the tabernacle (Exod 25:31-40; 37:17-24) is retained in the temple (2 Chron 13:11). Similar to the seven days of creation, the temple took seven years to complete, emphasizing God as its builder rather than Solomon or David. The objects in the temple bear creation symbolism as well; the presence of the placid waters of the bronze reservoir in the court of the priests represents God’s victory over the waters of chaos, as celebrated in Psalm 93, which connects the creation of the world, the raging chaotic waters, and the holiness of God’s house. Hence, both God’s creation and God’s acts of creation are often imaginatively portrayed in the temple.

[135] On the cosmogonic and eitiological magnetism of all creation tradition and its association with the temple and Jerusalem, see J. D. Levenson 1985, 91, 135; R. Patai 1967, 84-6; J. Z. Smith 1969, 113; M. Eliade 1961, 43.

[136] On the relationship in scripture between remembrance and salvation, see Luke 1:54; 22:19; Gen 8:1; 19:29; 30:22; 42:9; Exod 2:24; 6:5; Deut 16:3; Ps 115:12; Judg 16:28; 1 Sam 1:11, 19.

[137] Indeed, Sylva has admirably underscored the latter point in several articles (cf. D. D. Sylva 1986, 1989, 1990a). See also Brawley 1987, 118-132.

[138] Sylva correctly notes that the rending of the temple veil does not simply symbolize the destruction of the temple and makes helpful connections between the sign of repentance of the crowds (23:48) and its earlier occurrence with the repentant tax collector (18:9-14), as well as the significance of the time of temple prayer. However, his thesis is undermined by the degree to which he (1) neglects Luke’s more critical sub-text, (2) bases proper interpretation on a parallel passage which has yet to occur in Luke’s narrative, i. e., Acts 7:55, 56, and (3) makes blanket statements concerning “a Lucan comfortableness with presenting the temple as the locus of Jesus’ activity” (248).

[139] This would also be in keeping with Green’s own methodological emphasis as underscored in his citation of G. Brown’s and G. Yule’s dictum, “The more co-text there is . . . the more secure the interpretation is” (Brown and Yule 1983, 50; cf. J. B. Green 1994a, 503 n 20).

[140] This scene is immediately followed by the rending of the temple veil and darkness, signs of the last days, which precede Jesus’ death only in Luke’s Gospel (cf. Matt 27:51-54; Mk 15:38-39).

[141] In part God’s actions are inferred in the text by Luke’s employment of the divine passive of the rending of the temple veil (ejscivsqh v 45b).

[142] The same critique would apply to Sylva’s more recent treatment of this theme (cf. Sylva 1990a; cf. Brawley 1987, 131).

[143] Many treatments of this text in Luke simply interact with tradition concerning paradise as the (intermediate) dwelling place of the righteous (e.g., 1 Enoch 37-70; Enoch 8; Apoc of Abraham 21; 4 Ezra 7-8; cf. J. H. Charlseworth 1992, 154-55; J. Neyrey 1985, 133-40). However, there are more immediate co-textual reasons to consider its relation to temple imagery as well.

[144] Even time itself has not proven unsusceptible to the liminal magnetism of sacred centers. In addition to the vital role it played in the ritual and festivals which took place in sacred precincts, sacred space also impacted the qualitative and quantitative dimensions of time. Since many temples and sacred centers functioned as the site of cosmogonic origination, they were also the locus of the “cosmogonic moment” or “original time.” “As such the temple, the center spatially and temporally, is a cosmic resource. Time becomes encapsulated and portionable; it is ladled out routinely in the daily services of the temple and in megaportions during great festival occasion. The lives of the deities and the people are woven together in this sharing of the sacred time within the sacred space” (Knipe 1988, 112). Jonathan Z. Smith has also noted the nature of sacred time as being that of the cosmogonic moment or, the “first, clear, pristine form.” With Eliade he observes that sacred time differs from profane time in that it is reversible, circular, and cyclical (Smith 1972, 142; cf. Wheatley 1971, 417; V. Turner 1974, 238; R. L. Cohn 1981, 56).

[145] So also R. E. Brown 1994, 1040-42; J. A. Fitzmyer 1985, 1518; F. Matera 1985, 475; Chance 1988, 69.

[146] Nevertheless, however one construes this polysemous symbol, this action does not signify a shift in ends values in God’s salvation, but rather a transformation of institutional means to pursue these same ends. See B. Malina (1986, 157-61) on ends/means values, J. Neyrey (1989b, 294) on institutions and norms, as well as Berger and Luckmann (1966, 128) on how institutions change to accommodate existing conditions.

[147]Moreover, the darkness in this context is associated as well with the last days in Peter’s citation of Joel 2:30-31 in Acts 2:20. This citation takes place within Peter’s larger emphasis on the inauguration of God’s inclusive mission to all people (cf. Acts 2:14-21).

[148] E.g., F. Weinert 1981; M. Parsons 1987; J. B. Chance 1988; M. Bachmann 1980.

[149] Though he does raise the issue of the appearance of lack of closure, even the issues which he points out seem to undermine his own thesis, e.g. 228, n 114.

[150] Even as Jesus’ remaining in the temple functioned as a transition to his ministry, so is the case with the disciples (cf. Acts 3-5). The timeless quality and spatial imagery of the disciples “continually worshipping in the temple” also evokes the idealized image of life in the temple as discussed regarding Jesus’ offer of paradise to the criminal. In both scenes it underscores images of salvation through the location of those saved in the temple.

[151] For an understanding of the ascension as a witnessing of the enthronement and its implications for a transferral of authority, see J. B. Chance 1988, 65.

[152] Cf. D. D. Sylva 1990a, 157. However, it may be that the Mount of Olives was incorporated within the boundaries of Jerusalem during Passover to accommodate the population at the festival (Yoma 6:4; m. Para 3:6, 11; cf. Brawley 1987, 129). Nevertheless, Bethany forms an elegant inclusio for the second Jerusalem narrative, returning to the point of entrance to Jerusalem (19:28-40) and its associations with the conferral of kingship (cf. Parsons 1987, 103; J. B. Chance 1988, 62-66).

[153] See E. Schweizer 1984, 378-79; M. Parsons 1987, 74, 112.

[154] Compare the similar sort of implied parallel at the conclusion of the incident of the Gerasene demoniac (8:39).