For in your sight the entire cosmos is a turn of the scale, and as a dewdrop in the dawn alighting on the earth. But you have compassion over all, because you can do all, and you overlook the sins of human beings with a view to their repentance. For you love all that exists, and loathe nothing which you have created; for if you had hated anything you would never have fashioned it. How could anything have endured, had it not been by your will, or that which was undesignated by you have been preserved? But you spare all because they are yours, O Sovereign Lord, lover of all that lives; for your imperishable spirit is in them all. For this reason you correct them that err little by little, and jogging their memories by means of the very things in which they go wrong you admonish them, so that they may be released from their vicious ways and put their trust in you, O Lord.
—Wisdom of Solomon 11:22-12:2
Have you ever been so angry that you wanted to rain down fire? I know I have, but beneath all my rage was a deep sadness—sadness that the world isn’t altogether right. It is often unjust, unfair and cruel. Stories within the OT Scriptures speak either of God raining down fire from heaven or some person who actually called down fire himself (as in the story of Elijah in 2 Kings). After reading the gospel of Luke I discovered I am not a standalone on this holy fire rain thing. The disciples James and John wanted some holy fire too for the Samaritans for their inhospitality. In Mark 3:7, oddly enough, Christ gives James and John the name Boanerges, which means “sons of thunder.” Perhaps Jesus was not actually paying them a compliment and Luke 9:52-56 shows us why.
In Luke 9:52-56, Jesus sends his messengers to a Samaritan village, and they find the inhabitants very unwelcoming. In context, this particular chapter in Luke is the first Lucan account in which Christ alludes to his Passion (verses 21-27) and he also makes mention of His suffering twice (verses 43-45). Between these predictions we also have the Transfiguration narrative, with Moses and Elijah appearing next to Christ. At the beginning of the chapter, we find some folks suggesting that John the Baptist has risen from the dead and others saying Elijah had appeared (verse 7-8) while still others believe one of the prophets had risen again. Elijah is mentioned a total of three times in this chapter.
Back to verse 52-56: James and John (the Sons of Thunder) react to the inhospitality of the Samaritans in a very Elijah-like way. They ask Jesus, “Lord do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” [some manuscripts add, even as Elijah did – cf. the KJV]. Jesus immediately rebukes them saying, “You don’t know what [kind of] spirit you are of.” [i.e. invoking?].
Jesus, can’t we (i.e. you) call down the fire?
Other OT stories testify about fire that fell from heaven to devour people – Gen. 19:24, Lev. 10:1-2; Job 1:16; Ps. 97:3. They all differ from 2 Kgs. 1:9-12 in that it only the latter depicts someone other than God summoning the fire. Twice Elijah says, “Let fire come down from heaven and consume you and your fifty.” So Luke 9:52-56 is conceptually closest to 2 Kgs. 1:9-12. Further, in the case of Elijah, the setting is Samaria, just as it was a Samaritan village that James and John wished to chastise. Most commentators don’t miss the correlation. For me, two questions come to mind: first, why did James and John want to rain down fire for something as insignificant as lack of hospitality? Second, why did Jesus refuse to let them imitate Elijah? Dale C. Allison Jr. is of great help here. He shows how Jesus’ refusal and rebuke belongs to a tradition of critical reflection upon 2 Kgs. 1:9-12 and several kindred prophetic texts.
Parallel Ancient Texts
In Francois Bovon’s commentary on Luke, he suggests that Acts Phil. Mart 21 (127) is a parallel to Luke 9:52-56. “In this fourth-century text, the apostle Philip, upon being mistreated by opponents of his gospel, asks Bartholomew whether they should not call down fire from heaven. The language, like that of Luke 9:54, is reminiscent of 2 Kgs 1:9-12.”[1]
Philip decides not to pursue his proposal, so no heavenly fire is rained down on Philip’s opponents. However, after a while the apostle’s passion gets the best of him, and he commands that the deep open up and swallow his enemies whole, which actually happens (26-27[132-33]). This violent act doesn’t represent 2 Kgs. 1. Rather, it echoes Num. 16, where the dramatic punishment comes upon Korah, Dathan, Abiram and their followers at the command of Moses. Moses makes an astounding prophecy that if his antagonists “die a natural death, or if a natural fate overtakes them, then the Lord has not sent me. But if the ... ground opens its mouth and swallows them up, with all that belongs to them, and they go down alive into Sheol, then you will know that these men have despised the Lord” (Num. 16:29-30). As soon as Moses quits speaking, the ground splits apart and the earth swallows them whole. They go “down alive into Sheol,” and then “the earth closes over them” (16:31-31). According to Dale Allison Jr., the dependence of Acts Phil. Mart. 26-27 (132-33) upon LXX Num. 16:30-32 is perfectly clear when one sets the Greek sentences next to each other.
After the earth engulfs Philip’s opponents, Jesus appears to his apostle and rebukes him with a series of biblically inspired questions, including “Who puts his hand to the plow and looks behind and makes the furrow usable?”(a clear reference to Luke 9:62 found in 29[135]). Jesus then disciplines Philip by making him wait forty days after his death before entering paradise! Finally, Jesus undoes Philip’s wayward deed by resurrecting the dead who have been swallowed up. They get back the lives they had earlier lost (31-32[137-38]).
The parallelism between Luke 9:52-56 and the Acts of Philip are extensive. In both cases the apostles propose to act in ways either found in Moses or Elijah. In both cases Jesus strongly opposes their vindictive proposal, and in both cases fire never actually falls from the sky. And thus, Jesus steals my Thunder! The only difference is that Philip actually does call the earth to swallow his opponents, but the upshot is Jesus’ censure of Philip for his imitation of Moses in Num. 16. It would be easy for us to simply dismiss this story as legend and move on. But from the beginning to end, the Acts of Philip presupposes familiarity with the canonical Luke-Acts.[2]
Other Ancient Texts
Another ancient text speaks of the punishment of Korah and refers to heavenly fire consuming human beings. This text likewise distances itself from both judgments. The following appears in the Homilies of Pseudo-Clement.[3]
Openings of the earth did not occur, and fire was not sent down from heaven and did not come forth for the incineration of human beings, and rain was not poured out, and a multitude of beasts was not sent from the thickets, and upon us the destructive wrath of God did not begin to show itself… For God, the creator of heaven and earth, is not the one who is in former times attacked sins, since now, being blasphemed to the utmost, he (would) attack to the utmost. But quite the contrary, he is long-suffering, he calls to repentance.
The long recension of Chapter 10 in the Testament of Abraham from the first or second century recounts how Abraham, about to die, beholds the inhabited world. Verses 4-14 read as follows:
Now as Abraham continued, he saw swordsmen grasping sharp swords in their hands. And Abraham asked the Commander-in-Chief, “Who are these?” And the Commander-in-chief said: “These are thieves who want to work murder and to steal and to burn and destroy.” Abraham said, “Lord hear my voice, and command that beasts come out from the thicket and devour them.” And as he spoke his word, beasts came forth from the thicket and devoured them. And he looked at another place and saw a man and a women who were committing adultery with each other. And he said, “Lord Command that the earth might open up and that it swallow them.” And immediately the earth opened up and swallowed them. And he saw in another place a man breaking into houses and stealing the possessions of others. And Abraham said, “Lord, command that fire might come down from heaven and consume them.” And as he spoke his word, fire came down from heave and consumed them. And immediately a voice came from heaven to the Commander-in-Chief speaking thus: “Michael, Commander-in-chief, command the chariot to stand still, and turn Abraham back, lest he see all the inhabited world. For if he were to see all those living in sin, he would destroy all of creation. For behold, Abraham has not sinned, and he does not have mercy upon sinners. But I made the world, and I do not wish to destroy any of them. Rather I delay in the death of a sinner until he turns and lives.
Later in chapter 14, Abraham comes to see the error of what he has done. With a new understanding and heart of sympathy gained from seeing their fate, he prays for his victims to come back to life, which happily they do.
Implications for Kenotic Hermeneutics
We can see that these ancient non-canonical texts have shared similarities and witness to an oral tradition (or a text no longer in existence) that raised a critical question mark over the biblical tales of prophets who brought down violent judgment, cutting short the lives of other humans. Perhaps Luke 9, a tale about the sons of Zebedee (rooted in historical facts), influenced the Acts of Philip to relate a similar tale concerning Philip. What we can confirm is a recurring theme of discomfort regarding the prophetic violence in Numbers, 2 Kings and other passages, even predating Christianity.
For example, the Alexandrian rabbi Philo stresses how Moses sought to persuade his opponents “without loss of temper, which indeed was alien to his nature.” Moses rather used “words of admonition to bring them to a better mind and to refrain from transgressing the appointed limits or revolting against the sacred and hallowed institutions of which the hopes of the nation depended.”[4] Sadly his words fell on deaf ears. Even more anxious about Num. 16 is Josephus: “Not only does he emphasize that Moses bore his enemies no malice, despite their sedition being of a sort “for which we know of no parallel whether among the Greeks or barbarians”(Ant. 4.12), but he goes on to inform us that, when reasonable appeal had failed and judgment was about to fall, Moses wept at the anticipated destruction of his opponents (4:51).”[5] Josephus goes even further to say that the destruction was so swift that those swallowed up did not even know what had happened (4:52). Josephus is not cheering a victory concerning Num. 16, but mourning a tragedy. It reminds me of Prov. 24:17-18, which tells us not to rejoice when our enemy falls. Or Psalm 34:21, where it is “evil” (not God) that “slays the wicked.” And that the “death of sinners is evil” (Ps. 34:21 LXX).
These texts and thinking had tremendous impact on men like Origen who feels he must allegorize such stories. Even St. Gregory of Nyssa said, “if one does not read scripture in a ‘philosophical’ fashion, one will see only myths and contradictions.”[6] At best, we can say not all Jewish or Christian sources understood the violence in these texts to bear Yahweh’s (or Christ’s) stamp of approval. The violence is not merely a modernist problem or an attempt to eradicate the inspiration of the scriptures. It is a human problem. Our God-implanted consciences cause us to war against the violence texts.
Thus, today I am glad I don’t get my “Holy Fire Rain”—and trust me, you should be glad I don’t and we should all be glad that others don’t! Vengeance belongs to God alone, because he reserves the right to withhold it and to show mercy. The Lord’s response to evil is not like the vengeance of men—even apostolic men! As Jesus says in the Luke 9:56, the divine response is revealed in Christ, “For the Son of Man did not come to destroy men’s lives but to save them.”
Endnotes
[1] C. Allison Jr., "Rejecting Violent Judgment: Luke 9:52-56 and its Relatives," Journal of Biblical Literature, 121. 3 (Fall 2002), 461.
[2] Frederic Amster, Acts Philippi. Commentarius, 434.
[3] Ps. Clem. Hom. 16.20 (ed. Rehm), 227.
[4] Philo, Rewards and Punishments, 77.
[5] Cited in Dale C. Allison Jr., "Rejecting Violent Judgment ,” 469.
[6] Cited in David Bentley Hart, The Experience of God, 25.
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