While it is easy to interpret the first and second of the Matthean Antitheses (5.21–30) as intensifications of the Mosaic law, it is difficult to interpret the remaining Antitheses (5.31–48) in this manner. In the history of interpretation, two main strategies have been adopted for dealing with these later Antitheses, the ‘rejected interpretation’ hypothesis and the revocation hypothesis. The ‘rejected interpretation’ hypothesis, however, is only plausible for the last Antithesis (5.43–8), which appends ‘and hate your enemy’ to the Levitical exhortation to love one's neighbour; in all other instances, the ‘thesis’ statement is either a biblical citation or a close paraphrase of one or more biblical passages. Although the revocation hypothesis has often been deployed in an anti-Jewish way, there is nothing intrinsically anti-Jewish about it; indeed, both biblical authors, such as the Deuteronomist and Ezekiel, on the one hand, and some rabbis, on the other, explicitly revise prior biblical laws while at the same time claiming to be changing nothing. Matthew does something similar when he introduces the revisionist Antitheses with a programmatic statement about the unchangeableness of the Law (5.17–20). The Matthean Jesus, then, is not ‘seconding Sinai’ but correcting it.

Matthew's didactic teaching blocks often present the terms of salvation as an uncompromising dichotomy, envisioning either complete loyalty or faithlessness (e.g. 10.37–9; 16.25; 24.13). However, the characters in his narrative sections, especially Peter, nuance this harsh binary to allow for a significant degree of failure. After a brief survey recent works on Matthean soteriology and the use of Peter, it is argued that two features of Peter, when combined, widen the scope of salvation. First, Matthew portrays him as occupying a ‘middle ground’ between complete obedience and absolute failure, with all indications pointing to Peter remaining in that space, as emphasised by the last references to him (27.25; 28.16). Second, this failing Peter will not only be allowed in the kingdom, but will have a position of greatness there, as demonstrated by both Matthew's overall theology of status variation within the kingdom (e.g. 19.28; 20.26–7; 5.19) and his unique Petrine accounts (14.22–33; 16.17–19; 17.24–7). Though the way to salvation is narrow (i.e. 7.14), the character of Peter widens it to allow for more failure than some texts in the didactic sections might initially suggest.

The level of scepticism met by the concept of macro-chiasm in ancient literature is noticeably lower today than two decades ago, with sizable agreement coalescing around certain examples. One such example is found in the synoptic double-tradition material as it is preserved in Luke's Gospel, which provides the methodological foundation for the reconstruction of the hypothetical synoptic source document Q. This article explores the study of the macro-chiasm identified in Luke (Q) 3.7–7.35 and its implications for the synoptic problem. It also addresses the methodological considerations advanced by S. E. Porter and J. T. Reed in their NTS article two decades ago, meeting a certain stipulation placed by them upon subsequent scholarship.

This article explores the literary relationship between the Matthean tradition and the Ascension of Isaiah, a second-century pseudepigraphon detailing Isaiah's visions of the ‘Beloved’ and his polemical (and fatal) engagement with the ‘false prophet’ Belkira. While the lexical affiliation between these texts has been a point of interest, the discussion has oscillated between types of sources utilised, whether gospel material mutually shared with Matthew or Matthew itself. Though this paper details lexical contact, it pushes beyond philological similarity and posits narrative imitations as well as shared polemical strategies. The result is that Isaiah is more readily seen as a figure fashioned after the Matthean Jesus, and the ‘martyred prophet’ motif that ripples throughout the Gospel of Matthew as appropriated and narrativised by the Ascension of Isaiah for a second-century conflict over prophetic practices.

Jesus rebukes Peter at Caesarea Philippi by calling him ‘Satan’. The redactor of Matthew adds to this: ‘You are a stumbling block for me!’ This article argues that this editorial addition reflects a tendency in Jewish sources (1) to use the image of ‘stumbling’ to talk of sin, and (2) to identify the diabolic figure (e.g. Satan, Belial, Evil Inclination) as the cause of ‘stumbling’, earning it the title ‘stumbling block’. This tendency has its origins in the Hebrew Bible, is clearly expressed in the literature of the Qumran community, and is further developed in rabbinic sources.

The two books under review here are remarkably similar, although (it would appear) entirely independent of each other. Further, I must say right at the start that, in many respects (perhaps the most important respect), I am entirely in agreement with many of their conclusions, and their manner of reaching those conclusions. So maybe this ‘critical’ review is not critical enough!

• - Both authors are English; and both books come across (to me) as very ‘English’: the argument is cautious, fully acknowledging caveats, never overstating the case, etc.

• - The prime issue addressed in both is the relationship between Thomas and the Synoptics.

• - Both argue for a broadly similar conclusion – that Thomas is dependent (whether directly or indirectly: see below) on at least Matthew and Luke.

• - Both reach this conclusion via an almost identical methodology: seeking to identify possible elements of Synoptic redactional activity in Thomas as an indication of Thomas’ dependence.

• - Some (but not all) of the evidence cited is common, e.g. Th 5 / / Luke 8:17; Th 14 / / Matt 15:11; Th 31 / / Luke 4:24. (However, other examples do not overlap.)

• - Both are reticent about relying too much on theories about Q (perhaps surprisingly, Goodacre less than Gathercole).

• - Both see Thomas as potentially mystifying, not necessarily aiming at clarity, but demanding hermeneutical effort on the part of the reader.

• - Both emphasise the importance of taking seriously the evidence of the Greek fragments, and indeed both at different points use the Greek evidence closely.

• - Both offer powerful critiques of the older form-critical ‘norms’, or ‘laws’, about the development of the tradition, both effectively denying that such rigid ‘laws’ have any validity at all.

• - Both address in detail the more general arguments of others defending Thomas’ independence, e.g. on order, the apparent lack of ‘much’ agreement with the Synoptics, the possibility of assimilation in the textual transmission, etc.

• - Both also offer good arguments referring to the possibility of being misled by the phenomenon of the Synoptic Gospels about what level of agreement might be expected in a case of dependence. (The Synoptics may be highly unusual in the high level of agreement (in wording and order) they display.)

• - Both emphasise the danger of polarising the debate prematurely, of simply claiming that one's own theory has ‘won the day’ and ignoring others who disagree. Certainly both authors here take on, and engage with (in my view very fairly) the views of others who disagree.

This article examines the textual arguments offered for and against the reading Jesus Barabbas in Matthew 27.16–17. While siding with the position that the longer reading, Jesus Barabbas, stood in the original text of Matthew's Gospel, this article argues against the tendency of scholars to deduce from the longer reading that a historical figure called ‘Jesus’ with the patronymic ‘Barabbas’ was released by Pilate, and that this man's name was suppressed by Christian tradition out of reverence for the name Jesus.

Most scholars acknowledge Matthew's debt to Mark in the composition of his own Gospel, and they are fully aware of his extensive redaction and expansion of this major source. Yet few scholars pose what is an obvious question that arises from these points: What was Matthew's intention for Mark once he had composed and circulated his own revised and enlarged account of Jesus' mission? Did he intend to supplement Mark, in which case he wished his readers to continue to consult Mark as well as his own narrative, or was it his intention to replace the earlier Gospel? It is argued in this study that the evidence suggests that Matthew viewed Mark as seriously flawed, and that he wrote his own Gospel to replace the inadequate Marcan account.

The occurrence and significance of the five women in Jesus' genealogy in the Gospel of Matthew has been a source of continuous scholarly debate. Taking a gender-sensitive approach, this contribution argues for looking at the five women as one group, viewing them as simultaneously accentuating the messianic line that Jesus is part of and vindicating his somewhat irregular birth, as well as substantiating the openness of Israel for Gentiles by adducing precedents from Israel's history.

Ascribing inspiration to the composition and canonisation of the NT did not exempt it from the flux of history. Its contents were variously copied, quoted and interpreted. For example, early-church responses to Matthew's use of some of the OT prophets illustrate the freedom with which perhaps the most Jewish of the evangelists, having appropriated some of Judaism's greatest figures, was in turn appropriated by early Christianity, how also he was read by pagans and Jews, and how all, in good faith or not, sought to expose or defend or correct what readers thought to be its problems.