Tuesday, 7 April 2026

Green Theology: God’s Concern for Every Creature

Green Theology: God’s Concern for Every Creature

God’s Concern for Every Creature

Matthew 10:29–31:

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground unperceived by your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.

Luke 12:6–7:

Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten in God’s sight. But even the hairs of your head are all counted. Do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.

Evidently sparrows were sold in the market, either in pairs or in fives (which for Jewish counting in tens would be equivalent to our halfdozen), as food for the poor, who would probably rarely be able to afford any other form of meat. That sparrows were the cheapest birds for sale in the market – and for this reason selected by Jesus to make his point – is confirmed by a decree of Emperor Diocletian (late third century CE) that fixes maximum prices for all kinds of items and lists sparrows as the cheapest of all the birds used for food.[1] The cheapness of birds, in general, is interestingly confirmed by a passage in the Mishnah relating to the law of Deuteronomy 22:6–7, which, as we have already noticed, forbids taking the mother bird together with her young from a nest. The rabbis were struck by the fact that, very unusually, this law specifies a reward for keeping it: ‘that it may go well with you and you may live long’ (Deut. 22:7). They concluded that if such a reward attaches to ‘so light a precept concerning what is worth but an issar’, then how much more will a similar reward be given for observing ‘the weightier precepts of the law’ (m. Hull. 12:5). The commandment is here considered trivial, compared with others,[2] because it concerns only a bird, which is worth only an issar. The issar is the same small copper coin as Matthew’s and Luke’s ‘penny’ (assarion). [3]

Thus Jesus has selected a creature that is valued very cheaply by humans, of course on the basis of its limited usefulness to them. Even a creature that humans think so unimportant is important enough to God for it never to escape his caring attention. Matthew’s and Luke’s versions of the saying make the point in slightly different ways. Matthew’s is the more specific and relates to the capture of sparrows for food. The sparrow’s fall to the earth is not, as modern readers often suppose, its death,[4] but what happens when the hunter’s throw-net snares it and brings it to the ground (cf. Amos 3:5).[5] It will then be sold in the market. The sparrow’s capture cannot happen ‘without (aneu) your Father’ (Matt. 10:29), i.e. without his knowledge and consent. There is a remarkably close parallel, not only to this point but also to the moral which Jesus draws from it with regard to God’s care for the disciples, in a later rabbinic story, which must show that Jesus is drawing on traditional Jewish teaching. The story concerns Rabbi Simeon ben Yohai (mid-second century CE), who at the end of the second Jewish war spent thirteen years hiding in a cave with his son.

At the end of this period he emerged and sat at the entrance of the cave and saw a hunter engaged in catching birds. Now whenever R. Simeon heard a heavenly voice exclaim from heaven, ‘Mercy!’ [i.e. a legal sentence of release] it escaped; if it exclaimed, ‘Death!’ it was caught. ‘Even a bird is not caught without the assent of Providence,’ he remarked; ‘how much more then the life of a human being!’ Thereupon he went forth and found that the trouble had subsided. (Gen. Rab. 79:6)[6]

Rabbi Simeon realizes that his fate is in the hands of God, to whom he can therefore entrust himself, when he realises that this is even true of each bird. If Jesus drew on traditional Jewish teaching, this teaching was itself rooted in the Old Testament, which says that:

In his hand is the life of every living thing

and the breath of every human being (Job 12:10) and:

 

You save humans and animals alike, O LORD (Ps. 36:6).

 

It is God who preserves the life of each of his creatures, animal and human, and who likewise allows that life to perish when it does. Luke’s version makes the more general point that not a single sparrow ever escapes God’s attention (‘forgotten in the sight of God’ is a Jewish reverential periphrasis for ‘forgotten by God’; cf. Matt. 18:14). But in both versions the point is God’s caring providence for each individual creature. God does not concern himself only with the species, but with each individual of the species. Nor does he simply superintend what happens to each without concern for the welfare of each: this would provide no basis for Jesus’ assurance that the disciples need have no fear. The point is that since God actually cares about and takes care of each sparrow, how much more must he care about and take care of Jesus’ disciples. Of course, Jesus does not raise the problems of such a doctrine of providence:[7] Why does God let one sparrow escape and another be captured and killed? Why does he allow righteous people to suffer? Here Jesus is content to affirm that the disciples, like all God’s creatures, are in the hands of God who cares for all he has made.



[1] Adolf Deissmann, Light from the Ancient East (4th edition; London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1927), pp. 273–4; Otto Bauernfeind in TDNT 7.730 n. 10, 732 n. 19. I. Howard Marshall, Luke, p. 514, appears to be mistaken when he says that sparrows were not in fact eaten for food and that strouthion here must mean any small bird eaten for food.

[2] Cf. Deut. Rab. 6:2, which calls it the least weighty of the commandments, whereas Exod. 20:12, for which the same reward is specified, is the weightiest.

[3] The Romans reckoned an assarion (Latin as) as one sixteenth of a denarius, the rabbis as one twenty-fourth of a denarius: see Hermann Leberecht Strack and Paul Billerbeck, Kommentar zum Neuen Testament aus Talmud und Midrasch, vol. 1 (Munich: Beck, 1922), p. 291.

[4] E.g. William David Davies and Dale C. Allison, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, vol. 2 (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1991), p. 208.

[5] See the comments on Amos 3:5 in William Rainey Harper, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Amos and Hosea (ICC; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1905), pp. 70–1; James Luther Mays, Amos (OTL; London: SCM Press, 1969), p. 61.

[6] Translation from Harry Freedman, Midrash Rabbah: Genesis, vol. 2 (London: Soncino Press, 1939), p. 730. The story also appears in y. Sheb. 9,22,38d; Eccles. Rab. 10:8; Midr. Ps. 17:13.

[7] For a modern discussion of this issue in relation to animal suffering, which takes Jesus’ saying as its starting-point, see Jay B. McDaniel, Of God and Pelicans: A Theology of Reverence for Life (Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1989), ch. 1.

Green Theology: God’s Provision for His Creatures

Green Theology: God’s Provision for His Creatures

God’s Provision for His Creatures

Matthew 6:26:

Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?

Luke 12:24:

Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds!

In this saying, as in the corresponding exhortation to consider the wild flowers (Matt. 6:28; Luke 12:27), Jesus adopts the style of a Jewish wisdom teacher, inviting his hearers to consider the natural world, God’s creation, and to draw religious lessons from it (cf. Job 12:7–8; 35:4; Prov. 6:6; Sir. 33:15; 1 Enoch 2:1–3; 3:1; 4:1; 5:1,3). What he asks them to notice – that God feeds the birds/ravens – is drawn directly from the creation theology of the Hebrew Bible, especially the Psalms, in which it is a commonplace that God the Creator supplies all his living creatures with food.[1] In the following passages, the italicized are the references to God feeding his creatures in general and to God feeding specifically the birds or the ravens, in order to show how relatively often the example of God’s provision which Jesus uses occurs:

Ps. 147:9:           He gives to the animals their food, and to the young ravens when they cry.

Ps. 104:10–11: You make springs gush forth in the valleys . . .

giving drink to every wild animal . . .

Ps. 104:10–14: You cause the grass to grow for the cattle,

and plants for people to use, to bring forth food from the earth . . .

Ps. 104:10–21: The young lions roar for their prey, seeking their food from God . . .

Ps. 104: 27–8: These all look to you to give them their food in due season; when you give to them, they gather it up; when you open your hand, they are filled with good things.

Job 38:39–41: Can you hunt the prey for the lion, or satisfy the appetite of the young lions, when they crouch in their dens, or lie in wait in their covert? Who provides for the raven its prey, when its young ones cry to God, and wander about for lack of food?

Ps. 145:15–16: The eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food in due season. You open your hand, satisfying the desire of every living thing.

It is probably impossible to tell whether, in Jesus’ saying, Matthew’s ‘the birds of the air’ or Luke’s ‘the ravens’ is more original, but the latter gives a more precise Old Testament allusion to Job 38:41 or Psalm 147:9. The reason why both these Old Testament texts single out the ravens for mention is that the cry of the young ravens, to which they both refer, was especially raucous. Young ravens ‘squawk for food with louder and longer cries than almost any other species’.[2] In the context of Jesus’ saying, it might also be significant that, according to the dietary laws, the raven is an unclean animal (Lev. 11:15; Deut. 14:14). The point would then be that God takes care to provide even for an unclean bird like the raven.[3]

The Old Testament creation theology, which Jesus here echoes, includes humans among the living creatures for whom God provides. The great creation Psalm – 104 – where humans are included among all the creatures who look to God for food (vv. 27–8), is notable for its depiction of humans as one species among others in the community of creation for which the Creator provides. Psalm 145:15, which echoes Psalm 104:27–8, does so, as the context makes clear, in order especially to highlight God’s provision for humans. Like Jesus, the psalmist points to God’s care for all his living creatures in order to assure humans who turn to God in need that he provides for them. The same point is made, in dependence on these psalms, in a later Jewish psalm (from the first century BCE):

For if I am hungry, I will cry out to you, O God, and you will give me (something). You feed the birds and the fish as you send rain in the wilderness that grass may sprout to provide pasture in the wilderness for every living thing, and if they are hungry, they will lift their eyes up to you. You feed kings and rulers and peoples, O God, and who is the hope of the poor and needy, if not you, Lord? (Pss. Sol. 5:8–11)[4]

Clearly, in arguing from the Creator’s provision for birds to his provision for people, Jesus’ words belong firmly within Jewish tradition. The point that is not from the tradition is Jesus’ observation that birds do not sow or reap or store their food in barns. This observation has been variously interpreted. Jesus has sometimes been thought to contrast the birds who do not work with people who do: if God feeds even the idle birds, how much more will he provide for people who work hard for their living. He has also been thought to compare the birds who do not work with disciples who do not work either, but as wandering preachers depend on God’s provision by way of receiving charity. It is improbable that either of these alternatives is the real point. Rather the point is that, because the birds do not have to labour to process their food from nature, their dependence on the Creator’s provision is the more immediate and obvious.[5] Humans, preoccupied with the daily toil of supplying their basic needs by sowing and reaping and gathering into barns, may easily suppose that it is up to them to provide themselves with food. Focusing on their necessary efforts to process their food, they neglect the fact that, much more fundamentally, they are dependent on the divine provision, the resources of creation without which no one could sow, reap or gather into barns. The birds, in their more immediate and obvious dependence on the Creator, remind humans that ultimately they are no less dependent on the Creator.

Once again, as in the Sabbath healing discussions, what Jesus says about animals is a presupposition from which to argue something about humans. But it is a necessary presupposition. It is not, as some modern readers tend to assume, just a picturesque illustration of Jesus’ point, as though the point could stand without the illustration. Rather Jesus’ argument depends on the Old Testament creation theology evoked by his reference to the birds. Humans can trust God for their basic needs, treating the resources of creation as God’s provision for these needs, only when they recognize that they belong to the community of God’s creatures, for all of whom the Creator provides. Only those who recognize birds as their fellow-creatures can appreciate Jesus’ point. It is noteworthy that, although the argument, like that in the discussions of Sabbath law, is an argument from the lesser to the greater (since God provides for the birds, he will certainly also provide for humans who are of more value than birds), it is not an argument which sets humans on a different plane of being from the animals. On the contrary, it sets humans within the community of God’s creatures for all of whom he provides. Apparently, they are regarded as particularly eminent members of that community (a point to which we shall return), but they are members of it, nonetheless.



[1] M.F. Olsthoorn, The Jewish Background and the Synoptic Setting of Mt 6,25–33 and Lk, 12,22–31 (Studium Biblicum Franciscanum Analecta 10; Jerusalem: Franciscan Printing House, 1975), p. 36, calls this ‘one of the most common beliefs of listeners . . . familiar with the Jewish tradition’.

[2] Virginia C. Holmgren, Bird Walk through the Bible (2nd edn; New York: Dover, 1988), p. 146.

[3] Ravens were also generally disliked: 1 Enoch 90:8–19; Jub. 12:18–21; b. Sanh. 108b; t. Shabb. 6:6; Barn. 10:4 (where precisely their idleness is the point). Cf. Olsthoorn, Jewish Background, p. 35.

[4] Translation from R.B. Wright, ‘Psalms of Solomon’, in The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, vol. 2 (ed. James H. Charlesworth; London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 1985), p. 657.

[5] The point is therefore rather different from that in m. Qidd. 4:14 (quoted below), where R. Simeon ben Eleazar observes that animals and birds do not have to work to gain a living, whereas humans do. His point is that humans would be sustained without effort, had they not forfeited this right through sin (cf. Gen. 3:17–19).

Green Theology: Jesus and Animals

Green Theology: Jesus and Animals

Green Theology
Jesus and Animals

A cursory reading of the Gospels might well leave the impression that there is very little to be said about Jesus and animals. This impression would seem to be confirmed by the fact that modern New Testament scholarship, which has left rather few stones unturned in its detailed study of Jesus and the Gospels, has given virtually no attention to this subject. However, this chapter will show that there is in fact a good deal to be learned from the Gospels about Jesus’ understanding of the relationship between humans and other living creatures. This will only be possible by relating Jesus and his teaching to the Jewish religious tradition in which he belonged. All aspects of Jesus’ ministry and teaching, even the most innovatory, were significantly continuous with the Jewish tradition of faith, especially, of course, with the Hebrew Bible. Many features of this religious tradition Jesus presupposed. He did not argue, for example, that the God of Israel is the one true God, but everything he did and said presupposed this. Similarly, he presupposed the religious and ethical attitudes to animals that were traditional and accepted, both in the Old Testament and in later Jewish tradition. In his teaching, he adopts such attitudes, not for the most part in order to draw attention to them for their own sake, but in order to base on them teaching about the relation of humans to God. But this does not imply that he took them any the less seriously than other aspects of Jewish faith and religious teaching that he endorsed and developed.

But it does mean that, in order to appreciate the full implications of Jesus’ references to animals in his teaching, we must investigate the context of Jewish teaching to which they belong.

Compassionate Treatment of Animals

A duty to treat animals humanely and compassionately, not causing unnecessary suffering and whenever possible relieving suffering, was well established in Jewish tradition by Jesus’ time, though it was applied largely to domestic animals – those animals owned by humans as beasts of burden, working animals, sources of milk and food, and therefore also offered in sacrifices to God. These were the animals for which humans had day-to-day responsibility. They were not simply to be used and exploited for human benefit, but to be treated with respect and consideration as fellow-creatures of God.

Proverbs 12:10 states the general principle:

A right-minded person cares for his beast,

but one who is wicked is cruel at heart. (REB)

In later Jewish literature, an interesting instance is the Testament of Zebulon,[1] which is much concerned with the duty of compassion and mercy to all people, exemplified by the patriarch Zebulon himself, and understood as a reflection of the compassion and mercy of God.[2]

Compassion is probably here an interpretation of the commandment to love one’s neighbour (Lev. 19:18), taken to be the central and comprehensive ethical commandment of God and interpreted as requiring compassion for all people. In other words, the love commandment is interpreted much as Jesus interpreted it. But in Zebulon’s general statement of the ethical duty of compassion he extends it not only to all people but also to animals: ‘And now, my children, I tell you to keep the commands of the Lord: to show mercy to your neighbour, and to have compassion on all, not only human beings but also irrational animals. For on account of these things the Lord blessed me’ (T. Zeb. 5:1–2).

Another interesting, if not perhaps very representative, passage from the Jewish literature of Jesus’ time occurs in 2 Enoch (the Slavonic Apocalypse of Enoch) in a context of ethical teaching that again has many points of contact with the ethical teaching of Jesus. Chapters 58 – 59 deal with sins against animals. Uniquely, it teaches that the souls of animals will be kept alive until the last judgment, not, apparently, for the sake of eternal life for themselves,[3] but so that they may bring charges, at the last judgment, against human beings who have treated them badly (58:4–6). There seem to be three kinds of sins against animals: failing to feed domestic animals adequately (58:6),[4] bestiality[5] (59:5), and sacrificing an animal without binding it by its four legs (59:2–4). This third sin may seem at first sight to be purely a matter of not observing what the author understood to be the proper ritual requirements for sacrificial slaughter, and it is not obvious why it should be considered a sin against the animal. The reason may be that an animal not properly bound would struggle and die with unnecessary suffering. More probably, the idea is that if the animal struggled, the knife used to cut its throat might slip and damage the animal in some other way.[6] The animal would then not satisfy the ritual requirement that a sacrificial victim be without blemish, and could not be a valid sacrifice. In that case, its life would have been taken to no purpose. This passage of 2 Enoch is evidence that some Jews gave serious thought to human beings’ ethical duties towards animals.[7]

Of more direct relevance to material in the Gospels (as we shall see) are Jewish legal traditions, in which the law of Moses was interpreted as requiring compassion and consideration for animals. Later rabbinic traditions understood a whole series of laws in this way (Exod. 22:30; 23:4–5; Lev. 22:27,28; Deut. 22:1–4,6–7,10; 25:4).[8] In many of these cases, it is not obvious that the point of the law is compassion for the animals, and modern Old Testament exegetes often understand them differently.[9] Ancient Jews could also do so. For example, the law of Deuteronomy 22:6–7, which requires someone taking the young birds from a nest (for food) to let the mother bird go, was evidently understood (probably correctly) by the Jewish writer known as Pseudo- Phocylides (lines 84–5) as a conservation measure: ‘leave the mother bird behind, in order to get young from her again.’[10] But it was also commonly understood as a matter of compassion for the bird (Josephus, C. Ap. 2.213; Lev. Rab. 27:11; Deut. Rab. 6:1). The rabbis deduced from such laws a general principle that all living beings should be spared pain (the principle of a’ar ba’aley ayyim).[11] The rabbinic material, of course, post-dates the New Testament, but there are enough pieces of early evidence of the same kind of interpretation for us to be sure that this way of interpreting the law, as concerned with compassion for animals, was well established by Jesus’ time. For example, Josephus, in a remarkable passage in which he is trying to represent the law of Moses in the ways most calculated to appeal to Gentile critics of Judaism, explains that Moses required that the Jews

treat strangers and even national enemies with consideration, and then argues that Moses even required consideration for animals:

So thorough a lesson has he given us in gentleness and humanity that he does not overlook even the brute beasts, authorizing their use only in accordance with the Law, and forbidding all other employment of them [cf. Exod. 20:10; Deut. 5:14; 22:10]. Creatures which take refuge in our houses like suppliants we are forbidden to kill.[12] He would not suffer us to take the parent birds with the young [Deut. 22:6–7], and bade us even in an enemy’s country to spare and not to kill the beasts employed in labour [perhaps cf. Deut. 20:19]. Thus, in every particular, he had an eye to mercy, using the laws I have mentioned to enforce the lesson (C. Ap. 2.213–214).[13]

Here the principle of compassion for animals apparently leads to the formulation of laws not to be found in the written Torah at all. A very similar treatment, though restricted to laws actually found in the Torah, is given by Philo of Alexandria, who sees the gentleness and kindness of the precepts given by Moses in the fact that consideration is extended to creatures of every kind: to humans, even if they are strangers or enemies, to irrational animals,[14] even if they are unclean according to the dietary laws, and even to plants and trees (Virt. 160; cf. 81, 125, 140). He expounds in detail the laws which he understands to be motivated by compassion for animals: Leviticus 22:27 (Virt. 126–133); Leviticus 22:28 (134–142); Exodus 23:19; 34:26; Deuteronomy 14:21 (142–144); Deuteronomy 25:4 (145); and Deuteronomy 22:10 (146–147).

This line of interpretation of the law cannot be explained merely as an apologetic for the law of Moses by diaspora Jews concerned to impress Gentiles. Not only can it be paralleled in later rabbinic literature. One striking instance, which may well go back to New Testament times, is found in the Palestinian Targum. It concerns the law of Leviticus 22:28, which forbids the slaughter of an animal and its young together (one of the laws discussed by Philo, though not by Josephus, as an instance of compassion for animals). According to the Targum of Pseudo-Jonathan, which frequently preserves Jewish exegetical traditions from the Second Temple period,[15] God, when giving this commandment, says to his people: ‘just as I in heaven am merciful, so shall you be merciful on earth’ (cf. Luke 6:36). Behind this statement probably lies Psalm 145:9: ‘The LORD is good to all, and his compassion is over all that he has made.’18 God’s compassion for all his creatures is to be imitated by his people, and the laws requiring consideration for animals are given to this end. The idea that compassion for animals is a general principle of the Torah explains why acts of compassion for animals were permitted on the Sabbath, even though they involved what would otherwise be considered work, which is prohibited on the Sabbath. On three occasions in the Gospels Jesus refers to such generally recognized exceptions to the prohibition of work on the Sabbath. He does so in the context of debate about his practice of performing healings on the Sabbath, to which the Pharisees (Matt. 12:10–14; Luke 14:3) and others (Luke 13:14; 14:3) objected. In each case his point is to argue that, since his opponents agreed that relieving the suffering of domestic animals was lawful on the Sabbath, how much more must relieving the suffering of human beings be lawful. The statements are:

Matthew 12:11–12: Suppose one of you has only one sheep and it falls into a pit on the sabbath; will you not lay hold of it and lift it out? How much more valuable is a human being than a sheep! So it is lawful to do good on the sabbath.

 

Luke 14:5: If one of you has a child19 or an ox that has fallen into a well, will you not immediately pull it out on a sabbath day?[16]

 

Luke 13:15–16: Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger, and lead it away to give it water? And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the sabbath day?

 

Not all Jews would have agreed with Jesus’ account of what it was permitted to do for animals on the Sabbath.[17] The written Torah, of course, makes no such explicit exceptions to the Sabbath commandment. Therefore the Qumran sect, whose interpretation of the Sabbath laws was extremely strict, categorically forbade such acts of mercy:

‘No man shall assist a beast to give birth on the Sabbath day. And if it should fall into a cistern or pit, he shall not lift it out on the Sabbath’ (CD 11:12–14).[18] On this latter question, addressed in Matthew 12:11 and Luke 14:5, later rabbinic opinion was divided as to whether it was permissible to help the animal out of the pit or only to bring it provisions until it could be rescued after the Sabbath (b. Shabb. 128b; b. B. Mets. 32b). We may take the Gospels as evidence that the more lenient ruling was widely held in Jesus’ time. As to the example given in Luke 13:15, it is very much in line with the Mishnah’s interpretation of Sabbath law in relation to domestic animals, though not explicitly stated as a rabbinic ruling. The point is that tying and untying knots were defined as two of the types of activity that constituted work and were generally unlawful on the Sabbath (m. Shabb. 7:2), but provision for domestic animals was one kind of reason for allowing exceptions (m. Shabb. 15:1–2; cf. b. Shabb. 128a–128b; cf. also m. Erub. 2:1–4, where it is taken for granted that cattle are watered on the Sabbath). These exceptions to the prohibition of work on the Sabbath are remarkable. They are not cases in which the lives of the animals were in danger, and so they cannot be understood as motivated by a concern to preserve the animals as valuable property. Rather they are acts of compassion, intended to prevent animal suffering. It was only because the law was understood as generally requiring considerate treatment of animals that the Sabbath commandment could be interpreted as not forbidding such acts of mercy to animals on the Sabbath.

Moreover, it is clear that Jesus understood the issue in this way. His argument is that, since his hearers agreed that acts of compassion, designed to relieve the suffering of animals, are lawful on the Sabbath, surely acts of compassion, designed to relieve human suffering, are also lawful. According to Matthew 12:12–13, rescuing a sheep from a pit on the Sabbath is ‘doing good’, and so healing a man’s withered hand on the Sabbath is also doing good.

Of course, in all three texts, the law’s requirement of compassion for animals is only the presupposition for the point Jesus is making. But his argument is certainly not merely ad hominem. He is arguing from a presupposition that is genuinely agreed between him and his opponents. Jesus, in his recorded teaching, does not teach compassion for animals, but he places himself clearly within the Jewish ethical and legal tradition that held that God requires his people to treat their fellow- creatures, the animals, with compassion and consideration.



[1] The majority scholarly opinion is that this, like the other Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, is an originally Jewish work, which has received some Christian editing. But the argument of H.W. Hollander and M. de Jonge, The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs: A Commentary (SVTP 8; Leiden: Brill, 1985), pp. 82–5, that the Testaments as we have them are a Christian work, whose Jewish sources cannot be reconstructed, should also be noted.

[2] Hollander and De Jonge, Testaments, pp. 254–5.

[3] The point is not quite clear, because of the difference between the two recensions of the work: see the translations of 58:4–6 in manuscripts J and A in Francis I. Andersen, ‘2 (Slavonic Apocalypse of) Enoch’, in The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, vol. 1 (ed. James H. Charlesworth; London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 1983), pp. 184–5.

[4] This may also be the sin to which Pseudo-Phocylides 139 refers. Pieter W. van der Horst translates: ‘Take not for yourself a mortal beast’s ration of food.’ But the Greek is very obscure: see Pieter W. van der Horst, The Sentences of Pseudo- Phocylides (Leiden: Brill, 1978), p. 206. Cf. also b. Gitt. 62a; b. Ber. 40a.

[5] For this interpretation, see Andersen, ‘2 (Slavonic Apocalypse of) Enoch’, pp. 184–5 n. a. For Jewish  ondemnation of bestiality, see Exod. 22:18; Lev. 18:23; 20:15–16; Deut. 27:21; Philo, Spec. 3.43–50; Sib. Or. 5:393; T. Levi 17:11; Ps.-Phoc. 188; m. Sanh. 7:4; m. Ker. 1:1; m. ’Abod. Zar. 2:1; b. Yeb. 59b.

[6] Cf. Targums Pseudo-Jonathan and Neofiti to Gen. 22:10, where Isaac asks Abraham to bind him well for precisely this reason. I owe this point to Philip Alexander.

[7] It should be noted that the date and provenance of 2 Enoch are uncertain. I think it most likely to date from the late Second Temple period.

[8] See, e.g. b. Ber. 33b; b. B. Mets. 31a-32b, 87b; b. Shabb. 128b; Lev. Rab. 27:11; Deut. Rab. 6:1.

[9] For a recent discussion, see Murray, Cosmic Covenant, pp. 114–19.

[10] Van der Horst’s discussion (Sentences, pp. 172–3) seems to overlook the fact that the law is not here interpreted as a matter of kindness to the bird, as it is in other Jewish sources.

[11] Elijah Judah Schochet, Animal Life in Jewish Tradition (New York: Ktav, 1984), p. 151.

[12] This otherwise unknown law is also found in a lost work of Philo (Hypothetica), quoted in Eusebius, Praep. Evang. 8.7.

[13] Translation from Henry St John Thackeray, Josephus, vol. 1 (LCL; London: Heinemann/New York: Putnam, 1926), p. 379.

[14] Philo adopted the Stoic view that animals are distinguished from humans by their lack of reason. For Philo’s views of animals and his relationship on this point to Hellenistic philosophy, see Terian, Philonis Alexandrini De Animalibus.

[15] For the probably early date of this particular tradition, see Martin McNamara, The New Testament and the Palestinian Targum to the Pentateuch (AnBib 27; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1966), pp. 136–7. It was later criticized and censured by rabbis who objected to the giving of reasons for commandments of the Torah, because this reduced the ordinances of God to mere acts of mercy: m. Ber. 5:3; b. Ber. 33b; y. Ber. 5,3,9c; y. Meg. 4,9,75c. See Efraim Elimelech Urbach, The Sages: Their Concepts and Beliefs (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1975), pp. 382–5, 452; Schochet, Animal Life, pp. 179–83; E. Segal, ‘Justice, Mercy and a Bird’s Nest,’ JJewishS 42 (1991): pp. 176–95.

[16] Matt. 12:11 and Luke 14:5 are probably variant forms of the same saying, though probably not derived by Matthew and Luke from the same source. Of course, Jesus could well have made the same point in the context of two debates about his practice of healing on the Sabbath.

[17] For differences in interpretation of the Sabbath law in New Testament times, see Ed P. Sanders, Jewish Law from Jesus to the Mishnah (London: SCM Press/ Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1990), pp. 6–23.

[18] Translation from Geza Vermes, The Dead Sea Scrolls in English (3rd edition; London: Penguin, 1987), p. 95.

GREEN THEOLOGY: Jesus and the Peaceable Kingdom

GREEN THEOLOGY: Jesus and the Peaceable Kingdom

GREEN THEOLOGY
Jesus and the Peaceable Kingdom

In the Hebrew Bible the desirable relationship between humans and other creatures is sometimes portrayed as peace. As Robert Murray points out, this may be either peace from or peace with.[1] Both speak to the threat that dangerous animals posed both to human life and to human livelihood (in the form of domestic animals). Peace from is the more pragmatic possibility, secured in the covenant with Noah by the fear of humans that came to characterize other creatures (Gen. 9:2).


Peace from could also be secured simply by the absence of dangerous animals, like the absence of invading armies that is sometimes linked with it (Lev. 26:6; Ezek. 34: 25,28; cf. Hos. 2:18). The more positive state of peace with wild animals is a return to paradisal conditions. This is the relationship with dangerous animals that is portrayed in the well known description of the messianic kingdom in Isaiah 11:6–9. This passage has often been misunderstood by modern readers as a picture simply of peace between animals. In fact, it depicts peace between the human world, with its domesticated animals (lamb, kid, calf, bullock, cow), and those wild animals (wolf, leopard, lion, bear, poisonous snakes) that were normally perceived as threats both to human livelihood and to human life. Humans appear in their most vulnerable form, as children, just as most of the domestic animals do (lamb, kid, etc.). This is a picture of reconciliation of the human world with the wild world, healed of the fear and violence that had been accepted, as a pragmatic compromise, in the Noahic covenant.

It is likely that the ecotopia envisaged in Isaiah 11 is the key to understanding the reference to wild animals in Mark’s brief account of Jesus in the wilderness:

He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan;

and he was with the wild animals;

and the angels ministered to him. (Mark 1:13, my translation)

 Here Jesus goes into the wilderness, the realm outside of human habitation, in order to establish his messianic relationship with the non-human creatures. The order in which the three categories of them appear is significant. Satan is simply an enemy of Jesus and the angels simply his friends, but the wild animals, placed by Mark between the two, are enemies of whom Jesus makes friends. Jesus in the wilderness enacts, in an anticipatory way, the peace between the human world and wild nature that is the Bible’s hope for the messianic future. Mark’s simple but effective phrase (‘he was with the wild animals’) has no suggestion of hostility or resistance about it. It indicates Jesus’ peaceable presence with the animals. The expression ‘to be with someone’ frequently has, in Mark’s usage (3:14; 5:18; 14:67; cf. 4:36) and elsewhere, the sense of close, friendly association. (It may also be relevant that Genesis describes the animals in the ark as those who were ‘with’ Noah: Gen. 7:23; 8:1,17; 9:12.) Mark could have thought of the ideal relationship between wild animals and humans, here represented by their messianic king, as the restoration of dominion over them or as recruiting them to the ranks of the domestic animals who are useful to humans. But the simple ‘with them’ can have no such implication.

Jesus befriends them. He is peaceably with them. A passage that evokes a very different aspect of messianic peace with the non-human world is the story of the stilling of the storm. According to Mark’s version (4:35–41), Jesus ‘rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm’ (4:39). The story evokes a mythical image that is widely reflected in the Hebrew Bible: the primeval waters, the destructive powers of nature imaged as a vast tempestuous ocean, which God in creation reduced to calm and confined within limits so that the world could be a stable environment for living creatures. These waters of chaos were not abolished by creation, only confined, always ready to break out and endanger creation, needing to be constantly restrained

by the Creator. For ancient Israelites the waters of the mythical abyss were not simply a metaphysical idea. In something like a storm at sea, the real waters of the sea became the waters of chaos, threatening life and controllable only by God. In the case of this story, a squall on the lake of Galilee is enough to raise the spectre of elemental chaos.

When Mark says that Jesus ‘rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!”’, he recalls the most characteristic ways in which the Hebrew Bible speaks of God’s subduing the waters of chaos. The ‘rebuke’ is God’s powerful word of command, as in Psalm 104:7: ‘at your rebuke [the waters] flee.’ The word that silences the storm occurs, among other places, in Job 26:12: ‘By his power he stilled the Sea.’ What Jesus enacts, therefore, is the Creator’s pacification of chaos. In this small-scale instance he anticipates the final elimination of all forces of destruction that will distinguish the renewed creation from the present (cf. Isa. 27:1; Rev. 21:1).

A third instance in which Jesus anticipated the peaceable kingdom is his entry into Jerusalem riding a donkey (Mark 11:1–10 and parallels). As Matthew (21:5) makes explicit, Jesus here enacts the prophecy of Zechariah 9:9–10.26 According to the prophecy, following the Messiah’s victory ride on the donkey, he will ‘command peace to the nations’. The peace is among humans, but a peaceable animal, the donkey, helps to bring it about.[2] In ancient Near Eastern cultures, horses were associated with war, but a king in peacetime might be expected to ride a mule, not a donkey (cf. 1 Kgs. 1:33).[3] Jesus rides the animal that was every peasant farmer’s beast of burden.

Michael Northcott writes that, in the Gospels, ‘Jesus is portrayed as one who lives in supreme harmony with the natural order.’[4] This is not entirely true. The harmony is marred by the destruction of the Gerasene pigs (Mark 5:10–13 and parallels) and by the cursing of the unfruitful fig tree (Mark 11:12–14,20–21; Matt. 21:18–21). It is, of course, the demons who destroy the pigs, but Jesus lets them do so, presumably because the destruction of the pigs was of lesser concern than the deliverance of a man from demon-possession. The fig tree

suffers from symbolizing the failure of the temple authorities to do the good that God expected of them. In both cases we are reminded that Jesus anticipates the kingdom within a still unredeemed and unrenewed world. The glimpses of paradisal harmony are no more than small-scale instances pointing to the eschatological future.

They do, however, show that the Gospels take seriously the Messiah’s task of healing the enmity between humans and the rest of God’s creation.



[1] Robert Murray, Cosmic Covenant (Heythrop Monographs 7; London: Sheed & Ward, 1997), p. 126.

[2] Cf. Eric F.F. Bishop, Jesus of Palestine (London: Lutterworth, 1955), p. 212: ‘In this case both animal and Rider implied the same idea of peaceable progress.’

[3] William David Davies and Dale C. Allison, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, vol. 3 (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1997), pp. 116–17, provide relevant references but seem curiously unable to distinguish a donkey from a mule.

[4] Michael S.

Northcott, The Environment and Christian Ethics (Cambridge: CUP, 1996), p. 224.