Book Review: Christian Origins by Jonathan Knight
I would like to extend my gratitude to Abby at T&T Clark (see their blog) for sending along a fabulous (brand) new survey on the origins of Christianity. Jonathan Knight’s Christian Origins [publisher link - find the table of contents there] is a comprehensive introduction to the Jewish origins of Christianity, with an emphasis on the eschatological connection between Second Temple Judaism and the beginnings of the Jesus movement. The book is particularly relevant for my own interests because (1) I have just begun my doctoral program in Christian origins at UCLA and (2) I’m crazy about apocalyptic eschatology.
Knight’s work is quite ambitious. Within these pages, you find 31 mostly bite-sized chapters ranging topics as diverse as the sources of Second Temple Judaism, Diaspora Judaism, “Who Did Jesus Think He Was?”, Pauline soteriology and ethics, the “breach” between Christianity and Judaism, and the rise of Gnosticism. Knight covers both social and theological topics. He is sensitive to matters of scholarly nuance and introduces readers to important names and arguments within scholarship, while also keeping his prose accessible. Before going to far, we should note that Knight serves as a Research Fellow of the Katie Wheeler Trust and Visiting Fellow in New Testament and Christian Ministry at York St John University, UK. Knight is an ordained Anglican priest and has also written a book on Jesus. His preface notes that his next book will be on apocalypticism, “as if this has become a theme which I cannot evade” (xiii).
Knight attempts to dispossess the reader of the concept of an unambiguous “fixed” Christianity (or Judaism for that matter). He would like to take the reader back past the councils of the early church to the rich complexity of early Christianity. The book is divided into four parts, “From Judaism to Jesus,” “Jesus and His Mission,” “Paul and Christian Beginnings,” and “The Birth of Early Christianity.” The second part, especially the eleventh chapter on “An Approach to Jesus,” is a good primer on “historical Jesus” studies. To my enjoyment, Johannes Weiss receives a whole page and is not simply subsumed as a sentence or two under Schweitzer. Knight’s section on Paul does not survey the history of scholarship in the same way that he does for the historical Jesus, but it does reflect that scholarship. He surveys the writings of Paul (undisputed and disputed), gives a “whistlestop tour” of Pauline soteriology, highlights his eschatology, and considers his ethics.
Having just finished a presentation on the history of Christian writings on Judaism, I was happy to see Knight guide the reader through that difficult issue. For example, when speaking of Christianity’s possible inheritance of apocalyptic eschatology from Judaism, Knight rightly cautions,
In saying this, we must be careful to note the differences between ancient Judaism and modern Christianity and not to impose the younger understanding arbitrarily on older and quite different texts. This is to call for sensitivity in interpretation which allows the ancient texts to speak for themselves and not through a Christian matrix. Christian readers should recognize their natural bias in this respect. [58]
On mentioning E.P. Sanders’ “covenantal nomism,” Knight observes, “Sanders criticizes earlier scholarship on Judaism–particularly Christian scholarship–for its presentation of that relation as dominated by the perennial balance between sins and merits” (33). Knight could have tread a bit more carefully in his chapter on the “breach” between Judaism and Christianity. Even calling whatever “parting of the ways” that occured between the Jesus movement and its religious heritage a “breach” seems a bit harsh (?). Knight’s comment to start off the chapter uncharacteristically lacks some sensitivity to reader reaction: “The separation that occured was the result of reaction against the Christians by people of Jewish descent” (266). Out of context, this statement could be read as “blaming” the Jews for the separation and that is certainly thin ice. The content of the chapter, however, does cover key issues, including christological developments, the “twelfth benediction” of the Jamnian Academy and John 9, the polemic against the Pharisees in Matthew 23, Justin Martyr’s Dialogue with Trypho, and so-called “Jewish Christianity” such as the Ebionites.
To give an idea of his comments on Jesus’ death and resurrection, Knight strongly dismisses the idea that Jesus did not actually die on the cross (148) and more gently suggests that we “need not doubt” statements regarding the empty tomb (155, cf. 260). Contrary to being an intentional apologetic, however, Knight’s agenda in discussing the resurrection of Jesus is in what Jesus’ early followers did with the event. Knight suggests that the empty tomb is an “ambiguous symbol” and that resurrection appearances are “apocalyptic visions in which a heavenly mediator appears to the disciples and communicates a revelation to them” (260).
The biggest oversight in the book from my perspective is its lack of addressing the issue of women in the church. Knight breezes past a comment that the first half of 1 Corinthians 11 is “controversial,” barely mentioning “a statement of the subordination of women to men” (181). In his endnote for this sentence, he does refer to work done by Morna Hooker and Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza. Curiously, in the next endnote, which is regarding spiritual gifts in 1 Cor 12-14, he refers to Wayne Grudem’s work on prophecy in 1 Corinthians without explanation. Grudem’s work in this area is highly tilted in favor of the subordination of women. The missing engagement of women’s roles is felt particularly strongly in his chapter on “The Development of the Christian Ministry.” Within this chapter, Knight has the following statement under his treatment of “deacons”:
A whole passage in the Pastoral Epistles (1 Tim. 3.8-13) prescribes rules for their [deacons'] behaviour, including the behaviour of women deacons. The fact that the same epistle forbids women to teach or to have authority over men (1 Tim 2.12) is an indicator of the subordinate role of deacons in the communities addressed at that time. [291]
As far as I can see, this is the only statement on women in ministry in Knight’s book. I believe a book like this must address the patriarchal and androcentric nature of the surrounding society. Regarding gender roles in the family, Knight only casually mentions the household codes (191) and even then does not mention the role of husbands and wives. Within the book’s index, there are no entries for any of the following terms: women, female, gender, family, feminism, patriarchalism, or androcentrism. Knight nowhere mentions Paul’s key text (however one interprets it) in Galatians 3:28, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”
The book uses endnotes rather than footnotes, and 100 pages of them at that. While I know Nick Norelli prefers the latter (he demotes his reviewed books one star out of five if they use endnotes!), endnotes do seem appropriate for a book aimed at a survey introducing newcomers to the field. The “Index of Names” is a misnomer, as it is an index of names and topics, where it would be helpful to have them separated.
Any oversights aside, I would highly recommend this book for use in a Christian origins or introductory New Testament course (though the latter should probably supplement Knight with a New Testament introduction proper). My two favorite things about this book are: (1) Knight’s integration of the study of apocalyptic eschatology into nearly all aspects of Christian origins and (2) Knight’s adroit descriptions of complex scholarly arguments in an accessible manner. My most significant caution about using the book would be the need to supplement Knight’s work with solid coverage of gender roles in Christian origins. The material is certainly appropriate for seminarians or other graduate students and may be challenging to undergraduates, but in a positive way. As noted, Knight is a Christian, but his purpose is not to coddle conservative evangelicals–far from it. His insistence on nuance and ambiguity may just make a fundamentalist student’s head explode. But maybe they could grow a new one. On the other end, I do not believe it is too confessional for a secular classroom. With that said, I wish everyone happy reading!
Shame on who? (learning about women and "positive shame")
I am new to the world of honor/shame research and I am now diving in. I know some of the basics, but after reading Bruce Malina’s chapter on honor and shame in his New Testament World, I am still trying to get a hold of this “positive shame” business:
Positive shame, a sense of shame, means sensitivity about one’s own reputation, sensitivity to the opinion of others. To have shame in this sense is an eminently positive value. Any human being worthy of the title “human,” any human group worthy of belonging to humankind, needs to have shame, to be sensitive to its honor rating, to be perceptive to the opinion of others. A sense of shame makes the contest of living possible, dignified, and human, since it implies acceptance of and respect for the rules of human interaction. (49)
Note that “positive shame” is having shame (noun) rather than being shamed (verb). To get shamed or to be shamed occurs when people “aspire to a certain status and this status is denied them by public opinion” (50). So, being or getting shamed is negative shame, then? Malina doesn’t come out and use that term, but it seems implied. But, then, what is negative about the shame?
I tried looking around to see if Malina was just making this stuff up or whether he was misappropriating insights from another field. In addition to other (more scholarly) things, I did find an article in Parade Magazine (!) by Dr. Joyce Brothers (!) about positive shame, entitled “Shame May Not Be So Bad After All.” Brothers seems to connect “bad” shame with unnecessary humiliation or guilt, while relating positive shame to a healthy sense of social norms and respect for others. She relates the story of a man who yells at the refs too loudly at youth soccer games until the fellow parents get fed up and finally “shame” him (verb) by booing his actions. The act of being shamed, for this man, apparently led to a renewed sense of shame (noun) where he began to voice his displeasure with refs in a quieter manner.
Brothers says: “Positive shame occurs when we see ourselves as we really are—perhaps too self-involved to notice that our spouse needs our help, perhaps too scared of what others think to stand up for someone in trouble, perhaps too resentful of the past to allow a wound to heal.” Well, if it’s in Parade Magazine, it must be true. At least I know now that Malina did not make up this category of “positive shame.”
To complicate things, Malina suggests that (for Mediterranean society) “when honor is viewed as an exclusive prerogative of one of the genders, then honor is always male, and shame is always female” (49). I’m confused. Are we saying that only women have this positive sense of shame? But isn’t it required for all of humanity to have a sense of shame? Are we also saying that women in Mediterranean society are not capable of possessing honor?
It seems the male in this society is characterized by open boldness, while the female is characterized by private timidity. Get this interesting bit of symbolism:
First of all, male honor is symboled by the testicles, which stand for manliness, courage, authority over family, willingness to defend one’s reputation, and refusal to submit to humiliation [elsewhere he adds: courage, defense of family's honor, concern for prestige, and social eminence]. . . . Female honor, on the other hand, is symboled by the maidenhead (hymen) and stands for female sexual exclusiveness, discretion, shyness, restraint, and timidity [elsewhere he adds: modesty and blushing]. (47)
Malina says that all of the male behaviors listed are considered honorable behavior for a male in Mediterranean society. All of the characteristics of female positive shame listed “[make] her honorable” (49). This is one of the points that make my head hurt: a strong sense of positive shame for the female (but not for the male?) leads to honorable standing. The idea that some form of shame would be a prerequisite for honor seems like a paradox to me. I have long thought of honor and shame as opposites. I guess this post has been about me figuring out that they have a much more complicated relationship.
Any thoughts?




