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The Gospel of Matthew on the landscape of antiquity. By Edwin K. Broadhead. (Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament, 378.) Pp. xviii + 353 incl. 20 ills and 5 tables. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2017. €139. 978 3 16 154454 5; 0512 1604

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  17 December 2018

Jeannine K. Brown*
Affiliation:
Bethel Seminary, San Diego
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Abstract

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Reviews
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Copyright © Cambridge University Press 2018 

In this monograph Edwin Broadhead provides a formalist analysis of Matthew's Gospel (one that ‘brackets out external factors in order to observe the inner workings of a narrative’: p. 150) in order to argue that the first Gospel is a ‘living tradition’, made up of conflicting traditions that are not ameliorated by a coherent authorial intention or voice (chapter ii), in spite of ubiquitous attention to the author in current Matthean scholarship (chapter i). Broadhead argues that understanding Matthew as ‘living tradition’ – a work in progress – fits well into the ancient context from which this Gospel emerges (chapter iii).

As he turns to Matthew's textual history, Broadhead helpfully illumines the difficulty of claiming to reconstruct and then exegete the original text. Instead, he highlights the complexities of Matthew's transmission and suggests that this too contributes to Matthew as a work in progress (chapters iv, x). A central focus (chapters ii, vi, vii) involves exploring Matthew's conflicting traditions (tradents), which include Mark, the Sayings Tradition (Q), use of the Old Testament, ‘local voices’ (M/special material) and Peter's unique voice. Broadhead suggests that these often stand in contrast to one another; indeed, they are frequently contradictory and even produce a measure of chaos.

Based on this formalist reading, the author moves toward historical analysis, first by means of the projected context of the Gospel (chapter viii), which is characterised by ‘chaos, conflict, and contradictions’ (p. 151). According to Broadhead, this projection is patterned after the diversity and conflict inherent in the first-century world of Judaism(s), in spite of attempts in various texts to frame this world in unifying terms (chapter ix). Pressing into historical questions, the author locates Matthew on the ‘ideological map’ of, respectively, the Mediterranean world, Palestine and Antioch – Matthew's local context (chapter xi), arguing that each context is characterised by conflict as well as collaboration. He concludes the book by arguing that the Gospel's various competing voices are almost exclusively Jewish (chapter xii), even though Matthew has been ‘transmitted along two distinct trajectories’ (p. 298), one that eventuated in orthodox Christianity (‘canonical Matthew’) and the other speaking with a strongly Jewish voice to a Jewish context (‘Hebrew Matthew’).

The scope of Broadhead's project is ambitious, and he brings significant literary and historical strengths to it. At many turns his discussions are illuminating and captivating in their detail. I found this especially so for his work on the textual transmission of Matthew (chapter x) and its use in the Early Church (by, for example, Ignatius, Justin Martyr, Chrysostom). Broadhead's command of this material contributes to his thesis. The flow of the book's argument was sometimes difficult to immediately discern, as Broadhead moves in less than linear ways, often recapitulating and expanding earlier work in later chapters (for example, textual transmission in chapters iv, x).

It would be difficult to argue with Broadhead's initial thesis that Matthew's Gospel contains within itself multiple traditions (for example, Mark, the Sayings Source, its special material), each of which represents multiple tradents rather than singular authors. For Broadhead, this means that the Gospel of Matthew should itself be understood apart from the vision of a singular author sitting at his table, with various written sources scattered around, composing a singular text. Instead, this Gospel is a ‘living tradition’ that both represents multiple strains and gives rise to various traditions in its own turn. I appreciate the helpful redirection that Broadhead offers in his critique: that we regularly turn Matthew into an author who quite closely resembles contemporary scholars working in isolation.

Alternately, one of my primary concerns regarding the central argument is its reliance on overstatements at key points. Broadhead highlights conflicts in Matthew's Gospel between the various traditions that have been incorporated into it. These conflicts, at times, are about contrasts that should register no surprise in a narrative where change and development are inherent to the genre. Sometimes Broadhead moves from speaking of contrasts to identifying these and other issues as conflicts and then as contradictions. For example, in discussing the inherent conflicts in Matthew's special material, he writes that

Thus, a series of contradictions is evoked: Mosaic Law versus prophetic demand; principle versus application; command versus practice; Jesus versus the scribes/Pharisees; temple versus synagogue; synagogue versus the street; Rabbi versus Teacher, father versus Father, Instructor versus Messiah, the throne of Moses versus the throne of God. (p. 129)

This kind of merging of language is less than helpful – from contrast to conflict to contradiction and sometimes even to chaos (pp. 46, 151), especially as the illumination of conflicting traditions is central to the author's thesis. In a summary of his work on some key Matthean values, Broadhead suggests that these are chaotically assembled: ‘Righteousness, faith, doubt, hardness of heart, and hypocrisy intermingle in chaotic connections’ (p. 151). Yet he has not proved this chaos in his textual work, only the ‘conflict’ between, for example, righteousness and hypocrisy (p. 147), hardly an exceptional observation. I wished the author had remained more pointedly focused on primary tensions and conflicts (for example, Matthew's Jewish-only mission in x.5–6 and his inclusive mission at xxviii.19, which is key for Broadhead's argument, in any event), rather than pressing for an assessment of Matthew as a ‘fractured story within a disjointed narrative world’ (p. 46).

A few linguistic missteps might be mentioned. It is entirely appropriate for Matthew to use the same term with different meanings; this need not be construed as a point of tension (p. 44), since words and phrases often have multiple senses and can be used in the same work in different ways without confusion. Also, the author's translation of Matthew viii.13, ‘And his daughter was healed in that hour’ (p. 147), misconstrues the masculine article for a feminine. Jesus healed the centurion's servant (ho pais; or possibly his son/boy) not his daughter.

Broadhead puts the diversity within Matthew to good use in the latter part of his work, demonstrating how various points of tension and conflict generated different trajectories of interpretation. I appreciate especially his nuanced attention to the ongoing interface of Judaism and Christianity (as they would later be called) between the second and fourth centuries ce – for example, his suggested language of the ‘forming of the ways’ (p. 298) rather than ‘the parting of the ways’. Broadhead's conclusions in this arena form an important contribution to understanding how Matthew's Gospel has generated and impacted upon differing communities characterised by distinctive identities.