The Birth of the Trinity: Jesus, God, and Spirit in New Testament and Early Christian Interpretations of the Old Testament

by Matthew W. Bates

How and when did Jesus and the Spirit come to be regarded as fully God? The Birth of the Trinity offers a new historical approach by exploring the way in which first- and second-century Christians read the Old Testament in order to differentiate the one God as multiple persons. The earliest Christians felt they could metaphorically 'overhear' divine conversations between Father, Son, and Spirit when reading the Old Testament. When these snatches of dialogue are connected and joined, they form a narrative about the unfolding interior divine life as understood by the nascent church. What emerges is not a static portrait of the triune God, but a developing story of divine persons enacting mutual esteem, voiced praise, collaborative strategy, and self-sacrificial love. The presence of divine dialogue in the New Testament and early Christian literature shows that, contrary to the claims of James Dunn and Bart Ehrman (among others), the earliest Christology was the highest Christology,
as Jesus was identified as a divine person through Old Testament interpretation.

Genres: Theology, Biblical Studies, Religion, New Testament, Christianity, Christian, Christian History

272 pages, Paperback

First published March 3, 2015

About the author

Matthew W. Bates (Ph.D., University of Notre Dame) is Assistant Professor of Theology at Quincy University. His main teaching area is the Bible and early Christian literature, especially the New Testament. He also teaches courses in Western Religion, Church History, and Christian Spirituality.

Reviews

[Lindsay John Kennedy · Rating 5 out of 5]

From http://mydigitalseminary.com/the-birt...

G. K. Chesterton tells the tale of of a man who sails out to discover a new land, only to mistakenly return to England and proceed to plant a British flag in this apparently virgin land. For Chesterton, this allegory captures the adventure of discovery and the familiarity of home. I suspect when studying for The Birth of the Trinity, Matthew Bates had a similar experience to Chesterton’s Englishman, as I certainly did when reading his book.
The Birth of the Trinity

In The Birth of the Trinity, Matthew Bates attempts to prove that the “specific ancient reading technique, best termed prosopological exegesis, that is evidenced in the New Testament and other early Christian writings was was irreducibly essential” to the doctrine of the Trinity (p2, emphasis italicized in original). In other words, what best explains the origin of the Trinity doctrine? For Bates, the answer is the early church engaging in prosopological exegesis of the OT.

However, aside from being a useful term for impressing one’s audience, what exactly is prosopological exegesis? It is a method of interpreting the Old Testament by discovering and assigning persons to the unnamed speakers and/or addressees. Prosopological exegesis (hereafter PE) begins with the recognition that OT prophets climbed through “a divinely ordained tear between heaven and earth” to overhear divine conversations (Isaiah 6, Daniel 7). PE is seen in Peter’s reading of Psalm 16 (Acts 2:25-32). Peter recognized David was writing the words of Christ as a Spirit-empowered prophet, and so he read the Psalm as “containing a real future conversation between the Father and the Son” (p6). Peter did not read the Psalm typologically, as if Psalm 16 contained David’s own experience and foreshadowed Christ. Rather, he read it prosopologically: David’s own experience was distinctly unlike that of the speaker in Psalm 16 (Acts 2:29), so David must be enacting the person (Gk. prosopon) of another. Discerning these occurrences is the heart of PE.

After introducing PE and its implications for the history of Trinitarian doctrine, The Birth of the Trinity discovers instances of PE in the New Testament and the early church (e.g. Irenaeus, Justin Martyr, Ps-Barnabas and Tertullian). Chapter 2 uncovers Trinitarian conversation before creation in Psalm 2, 110, Isaiah 42, and Genesis 1:26. Chapter 3 explores conversations pertaining to the Son’s mission in Psalm 40, Mal 3:1, Isaiah 61:1-2, and Isa 42:1-9. Chapter 4 finds dialogue regarding the Son’s death in Psalm 69, Isaiah 65:1-2, and Psalm 22. In chapter 5, the Son is rescued from death to praise His Father in Psalm 22, Isaiah 8:17-18, Psalm 116, Psalm 18, and Psalm 16. Chapter 6 finds Christ’s enthronement and conquest, in addition to the new creation, in Psalm 2, 110, 45, and 102. Along the way, Bates explores questions related to PE, such as the eunuch’s question regarding the true speaker of Isaiah’s prophecy (Acts 8:32-33; Isa 53:7-8) or the nature of the Son’s forsakenness in Psalm 22. Chapter 7 asks the natural next questions: was this a faithful reading of the Scripture? and even more provocative, ought we emulate it? Bates recognizes that this question is not unprecedented; the early church set forth guidelines for faithful utilization of PE in response to Gnostic PE (yes they did it too!). Bates then answers both questions with a qualified yes, offering his own guidelines.
Evaluation

As for the origins of the Trinity doctrine, The Birth of the Trinity has much explanatory power. I eagerly await the ripples the book will cause in scholarship. For one, theologian Fred Sanders already highly praised the work. Bates’ proposal is provocative and I expect to see many others picking up his baton and running further down the unexplored track.

Bates’ PE approach raises some questions as to how we ought interpret the original OT passage. First, must a passage only have one referent? If for example Psalm 18 is David speaking in the voice of the Christ, then what should we make of the Psalm’s appearance in 2 Samuel 22, where it is (apparently) applied to David’s life? Can David not be speaking of himself and the Christ? Second, if PE is a faithful reading of the OT, should (and if yes, then how should) one go back and read the OT passage in light of the NT’s connections with Christ? Third, if the NT reads a portion of a Psalm as about Christ using PE, ought we consider the whole Psalm as about Christ? These questions are not criticisms of the book so much as evidence of a highly stimulating read that ought to provoke fruitful reflection and research.

Aside from my near-absolute praise for The Birth of the Trinity, I have a few small complaints. First, though Bates is to be applauded for staying focused on presenting his unique thesis, I would have appreciated more representation and even critique of differing exegetical conclusions on a given passage before Bates provided his own. This would have helped clarify Bates’ own views whilst undermining the alternatives; poking prevailing interpretations in the eye before delivering the rhetorical KO of Bates’ exegetical blindsides (all done in Christian love, of course). Along with this, how the NT’s interpretations stood in relation, whether agreement or contrast, with prevailing contemporary interpretations of these same passages would be welcome. How did Second Temple Jews interpret these texts? Can we find instances of PE there? Of course, this would have resulted in a much larger book. Lastly, on that note, I just wish the book were longer; I want more!
Conclusion

The Birth of the Trinity is clearly written, compellingly argued, and for me, a thrilling and stimulating read. I am thoroughly convinced that the NT uses PE, and this has opened up these texts again for me in a refreshing way. Along with insights into the Trinity, virtually every page has creative and provocative exegetical insights. What’s more, PE has vast implications: including the NT use of the OT, Messianic fulfillment, Christology and Trinitarianism. The implications of Bates’ work are not simply intellectually stimulating, however; they reveal a personal Triune God. They reveal impassioned conversations between a Father who, for example, provides a body for His Son to accomplish redemption (Ps 40), and a Son who willingly substitutes Himself to receive the blows directed at His Father (Ps 69).

The Birth of the Trinity is unique for simultaneously discovering a dusty overlooked interpretative tool and also pioneering a bold way forward in scholarship. Much like Chesterton’s Englishman who discovered England, this is both a deeply rooted, traditional, and orthodox reading, and also a creative and exciting new method with “rich Trinitarian fruit […] that has not yet been plucked by scholarship” (p6-7). The fruit is so abundant that this is without a doubt one of the best books I’ve read this year, and surely to be in my top five reads of the year. Though the Oxford University Press hardback is pricey, be on the lookout for the much more affordable paperback edition in September.

Many thanks to Ofxord University Press who provided a review copy.

[Peter Bradley · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is absolutely fascinating and well worth reading. It is probably not going to be accessible for those who lack a patience for academic terminology or demand immediate gratification. For those who are fascinated by the windy, twisted path that intellectual history often takes - and the surprises that lie in wait when we backtrack that history - this is a very satisfying book.

The question that has to arise in the minds of any historically knowledgeable Christian is "Where did the idea of a Trinitarian God come from?" Consider the oddity in a radically monotheistic culture - a culture defined by its commitment to One God who is one God alone and transcendent - spinning off a daughter religion that announces out of the blue that in fact this One God is composed of three persons, i.e. a Trinity. As a practical matter, how does that splinter make that leap of understanding?

Author Matthew Bates tackles this question by looking at what the earliest Christians did when they tackled the question of “who is God?” by looking at how they read the sacred texts. He finds, illustrates and demonstrates that they practiced a reading technique that he calls “prosopological exegesis” [“PE”] whereby apparent dialogues in the Old Testament, particularly Psalms, were assigned to different speakers. This technique seemed to clear up conundrums of interpretation. For example, in Psalm 110:1, the psalmist says “The Lord said to my Lord, ‘Sit at my right hand until I place your enemies as a footstool for your feet’” [Ps. 109: 1 LXX]. The conundrum is “who is the second “Lord” (aka “my Lord.” Jesus pointed out that it cannot be David since David himself calls him “Lord.” (Mark 12: 35–7; cf. Matt. 22: 41–6; Luke 20: 41–4)

Bates argues that the question is answered by assigning “persons” to the speakers of this dialogue. The speaking Lord is God (the Father). David is recounting the dialogue. So, the second Lord (“my Lord”) is another person. In the context of other passages, the second person would be identified as the divine Son of the divine Father.

This kind of exegesis is not something we see today. Given the general reaction we tend to see against anything that doesn’t involve a simple effort to translate the words in the text, this kind of exegesis would be viewed with a great deal of suspicion in the modern Christian world. But this kind of exegesis was extremely common in pre-Christian Judaism and the early Christian church. Bates offers numerous examples of Christian writers. For example, he writes:

“Justin Martyr in Dialogue 56. 14–15 argues that there are passages in the Old Testament where someone is called “God” or “Lord” alongside the Creator of the universe, a fact attested not only in passages such as Genesis 19: 24 (e.g. “The Lord rained upon Sodom brimstone and fire from the Lord out of heaven”) but also by David in Psalm 109: 1 LXX (“The Lord said to my Lord”). Like Justin, Irenaeus (Epid. 47) and the author of Hebrews (1: 8–9) believed that two distinct persons are described as God in Psalm 44: 7–8 LXX, in which a coronation is described. Accordingly, the author of Hebrews states: But about the Son he says, “Your throne, O God, is forever and ever and the scepter of justice is the scepter of your kingdom. You have loved righteousness and hated lawlessness; on account of this, O God, your God has anointed you with the oil of gladness beyond your companions.” (Heb. 1: 8–9 citing Ps. 44: 7–8 LXX)15 A person designated “God” is directly addressed in the psalm. This person possesses the royal scepter, rules with justice, and most crucially has been anointed by a second person called “your God” in the text. Since the person designated “your God” anoints the other person called “God,” and the action is not reflexive, two persons both called “God” are necessarily present in the text. Moreover, the verbal action of anointing (echrisen), which the one labeled “your God””

Bates calls this a “prosopological” exegesis or “reading technique” because it seeks to personify the apparent speakers of a text. Merriam Websters defines “prosopopoeia” as “1: a figure of speech in which an imaginary or absent person is represented as speaking or acting 2: PERSONIFICATION.” Bates’s short definition of PE is:

“in short this technique—prosopological exegesis—involved assigning dramatic characters to otherwise ambivalent speeches in inspired texts as an explanatory method.”

By engaging in this kind of reading technique, Christians “baked in” the understanding of God as involving “persons” that were in a “personal dialogue” with each other. However, it was not just the Christians who did this. The idea of a personal dialogue was “baked in” with Jewish exegesis, which recognized God as a “personal God” and also used PE in reading the sacred text. Bates writes:

“So, in speaking of the “birth of the Trinity” I do not want to suggest that real and complex theological issues were not still under intense negotiation and vital development in the third and fourth centuries (and beyond). Nor am I claiming that nomenclature to express the Trinity had attained stability—anyone who is even remotely acquainted with the literature will immediately recognize that, on the contrary, nothing could be further from the truth. Yet, I do want to assert in a forceful way that the die had been cast long prior—in the first two centuries of the Christian era—because “God” had already been read dialogically and prosopologically in the ancient Jewish Scripture, and hence the foundational conceptual decision to privilege the “person” metaphor in considering internal distinctions within the one God had already been made via scriptural interpretation. Even if a minority might desire to retrench (the Monarchians and the like), and many would dispute how to best express the inherited person metaphor in light of the scriptural testimony to the interrelatedness of Father, Son, and Spirit, the prosopological interpretative precedent had already shown to the satisfaction of most of the early church that the one God could successfully be read in the ancient Jewish Scripture as multiple “persons.” So the Trinity emerged conceptually to a large degree through interpretative reading of the Old Testament, especially through a specific technique, prosopological exegesis.”

This seems to be in line with Daniel Boyarin’s “The Jewish Gospels.” Bates notes and commends Boyarin’s work, but places it in a different argumentative category from PE, which he feels needs supplementation.

This is obviously very mind warping for the conventional mindset. But, wait! There’s more.

A key part of PE is what Bates calls “theodrama.” Essentially, when we have these interpersonal dialogues we are witnessing something that happened at an earlier time presaging something that will happen at a later time. In essence, when the Psalmist wrote the verse about “the Lord said to my Lord,” the Psalmist was a prophet channeling something that had happened long before, perhaps at the beginning of time, which would not come to fruition, or which might not be said, until after the life of the prophet.

This is illuminated by the words spoken with respect to the baptism of Jesus that “You are my son. Today, I have begotten you.” It is not hard to see this as an Adoptionist text; namely, Jesus did not become the Son of God until he was adopted at the baptism. That interpretation is rejected by PE:

“As portrayed by the Evangelists, when Jesus was baptized in the Jordan by John, the heavens were opened, the Holy Spirit descended upon Jesus in the form of a dove, and a voice came from heaven, saying: “You are my Son, the beloved one, with you I am well pleased” (Mark 1: 11; Luke 3: 22; Western text of Matt. 3: 17) or less directly, “This is my Son, the beloved one, with whom I am well pleased” (Matt. 3: 17).46 The allusion to Psalm 2: 7 LXX is quite obvious—it is widely recognized by current biblical scholarship—not least because the allusion is made emphatic in some portions of the textual tradition and the early reception history, which turn the words into a direct quote of Psalm 2: 7 LXX: “You are my Son, today I have begotten you.”47
Yet, what the bulk of biblical scholarship misses is that, unless we are to suggest their exegeses were idiosyncratic vis-à-vis the rest of the earliest church, the Gospel writers would have sought the meaning of this allusion by reflecting on Psalm 2: 7 through a person-centered exegetical process.48 More specifically, previous New Testament scholarship pertaining to this allusion at the baptism and transfiguration has tended to see it merely as a direct speech made by God to Jesus that evokes Psalm 2: 7 in accordance with the surface narrative in the Gospels, but has neglected an absolutely crucial datum.49 As will be shown, for the earliest Christians Psalm 2: 7 was consistently regarded not merely as a direct speech made by the Father to the Son, but rather it was taken as a speech within a speech that was originally spoken by the Son, who was reporting the words the Father had spoken to him at an earlier time, all of which has critical implications for how Christology and Trinitarian dogma developed.”

Bates breaks this down as follows:

“God (speaking to Jesus at the baptism): You are my Son…
Jesus (thinking to Himself): Those are the words that the person—the “me”—in the second psalm reported that the Father had spoken previously to him. Seemingly, God is hereby indicating that I correspond to the “me,” the addressee. But exactly who is this addressee according to the psalm?
Jesus (thinking to Himself): During the time of David, this addressee was able to report a previous conversation between God and himself, “The Lord God said to me, ‘You are my Son, today I have begotten you,’” so this “me” was begotten as Son before the time of the speech if David is able to report it in this fashion.”

Again, mind-blown.

Obviously, none of this is apparent on the surface of the text to us today, who might view this as ad hoc and bafflegab, but it was the way that the text was read in the formative years of Christianity, and, thus, it is not only normative, but Christianity becomes largely incoherent without it.

Bates points out that PE is flexible enough to be used by heretics, such as the Gnostics. In fact, the Gnostics were quite willing to personify different texts to different other persons, such Ialdabaoth and the Demiurge. So what could be done to keep PE properly reined in?

The answer was to remain within Christian tradition as taught by apostolic succession. According to Bates:

“Quite succinctly, Sextus Empiricus says that when used in the literary sense, it refers to “the peripeteia, (or ‘argument’ or ‘plot’) of a drama.”19 For Irenaeus the hypothesis of the Scripture taken as whole is the Rule of Truth (kanōn tēs alētheias), which Irenaeus himself claims to have received in an unbroken line from the apostles.”

Bates lays out some guidelines for the proper deployment of PE, so as to stay away from Gnostic nonsense. These guidelines can properly be boiled down to “read the text with the mind of the Church,” or always stay oriented to Holy Tradition:

“Thus, the “literal sense” of these Old Testament prophetic texts must be sought within the bounds of the entire divine economy, including the apostolic proclamation about Jesus, even though the apostolic proclamation is not, strictly speaking, found in the Old Testament itself.”

Now, Bates is a Protestant, so one wonders where that leaves Sola Scriptura.

But that is a question for another day.

[Phillip Howell · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is fascinating. I have never read anything quite like this. Prospological exegesis! How about that for a fancy theological word? What does it mean? That writers of the Old Testament were performing as a character like in a drama as they were speaking on behalf of God. Evidence from the New Testament authors and early Church fathers was provided to reveal this view of reading and interpretation. Examples include Psalm 110 and when David says
“The LORD said to my Lord.” Also consider Acts 2 and the explanation of the Old Testament texts. Bates shows that this view reveals trinitarian communication through Old Testament prophets and authors. One thing is for sure, early church Fathers definitely used this tool in their hermeneutic tool belt.

[Peter Bradley · Rating 5 out of 5]

Please give my Amazon review a helpful vote - https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-re...

This book is absolutely fascinating and well worth reading. It is probably not going to be accessible for those who lack a patience for academic terminology or demand immediate gratification. For those who are fascinated by the windy, twisted path that intellectual history often takes - and the surprises that lie in wait when we backtrack that history - this is a very satisfying book.

The question that has to arise in the minds of any historically knowledgeable Christian is "Where did the idea of a Trinitarian God come from?" Consider the oddity in a radically monotheistic culture - a culture defined by its commitment to One God who is one God alone and transcendent - spinning off a daughter religion that announces out of the blue that in fact this One God is composed of three persons, i.e. a Trinity. As a practical matter, how does that splinter make that leap of understanding?

Author Matthew Bates tackles this question by looking at what the earliest Christians did when they tackled the question of “who is God?” by looking at how they read the sacred texts. He finds, illustrates and demonstrates that they practiced a reading technique that he calls “prosopological exegesis” [“PE”] whereby apparent dialogues in the Old Testament, particularly Psalms, were assigned to different speakers. This technique seemed to clear up conundrums of interpretation. For example, in Psalm 110:1, the psalmist says “The Lord said to my Lord, ‘Sit at my right hand until I place your enemies as a footstool for your feet’” [Ps. 109: 1 LXX]. The conundrum is “who is the second “Lord” (aka “my Lord.” Jesus pointed out that it cannot be David since David himself calls him “Lord.” (Mark 12: 35–7; cf. Matt. 22: 41–6; Luke 20: 41–4)

Bates argues that the question is answered by assigning “persons” to the speakers of this dialogue. The speaking Lord is God (the Father). David is recounting the dialogue. So, the second Lord (“my Lord”) is another person. In the context of other passages, the second person would be identified as the divine Son of the divine Father.

This kind of exegesis is not something we see today. Given the general reaction we tend to see against anything that doesn’t involve a simple effort to translate the words in the text, this kind of exegesis would be viewed with a great deal of suspicion in the modern Christian world. But this kind of exegesis was extremely common in pre-Christian Judaism and the early Christian church. Bates offers numerous examples of Christian writers. For example, he writes:

“Justin Martyr in Dialogue 56. 14–15 argues that there are passages in the Old Testament where someone is called “God” or “Lord” alongside the Creator of the universe, a fact attested not only in passages such as Genesis 19: 24 (e.g. “The Lord rained upon Sodom brimstone and fire from the Lord out of heaven”) but also by David in Psalm 109: 1 LXX (“The Lord said to my Lord”). Like Justin, Irenaeus (Epid. 47) and the author of Hebrews (1: 8–9) believed that two distinct persons are described as God in Psalm 44: 7–8 LXX, in which a coronation is described. Accordingly, the author of Hebrews states: But about the Son he says, “Your throne, O God, is forever and ever and the scepter of justice is the scepter of your kingdom. You have loved righteousness and hated lawlessness; on account of this, O God, your God has anointed you with the oil of gladness beyond your companions.” (Heb. 1: 8–9 citing Ps. 44: 7–8 LXX)15 A person designated “God” is directly addressed in the psalm. This person possesses the royal scepter, rules with justice, and most crucially has been anointed by a second person called “your God” in the text. Since the person designated “your God” anoints the other person called “God,” and the action is not reflexive, two persons both called “God” are necessarily present in the text. Moreover, the verbal action of anointing (echrisen), which the one labeled “your God””

Bates calls this a “prosopological” exegesis or “reading technique” because it seeks to personify the apparent speakers of a text. Merriam Websters defines “prosopopoeia” as “1: a figure of speech in which an imaginary or absent person is represented as speaking or acting 2: PERSONIFICATION.” Bates’s short definition of PE is:

“in short this technique—prosopological exegesis—involved assigning dramatic characters to otherwise ambivalent speeches in inspired texts as an explanatory method.”

By engaging in this kind of reading technique, Christians “baked in” the understanding of God as involving “persons” that were in a “personal dialogue” with each other. However, it was not just the Christians who did this. The idea of a personal dialogue was “baked in” with Jewish exegesis, which recognized God as a “personal God” and also used PE in reading the sacred text. Bates writes:

“So, in speaking of the “birth of the Trinity” I do not want to suggest that real and complex theological issues were not still under intense negotiation and vital development in the third and fourth centuries (and beyond). Nor am I claiming that nomenclature to express the Trinity had attained stability—anyone who is even remotely acquainted with the literature will immediately recognize that, on the contrary, nothing could be further from the truth. Yet, I do want to assert in a forceful way that the die had been cast long prior—in the first two centuries of the Christian era—because “God” had already been read dialogically and prosopologically in the ancient Jewish Scripture, and hence the foundational conceptual decision to privilege the “person” metaphor in considering internal distinctions within the one God had already been made via scriptural interpretation. Even if a minority might desire to retrench (the Monarchians and the like), and many would dispute how to best express the inherited person metaphor in light of the scriptural testimony to the interrelatedness of Father, Son, and Spirit, the prosopological interpretative precedent had already shown to the satisfaction of most of the early church that the one God could successfully be read in the ancient Jewish Scripture as multiple “persons.” So the Trinity emerged conceptually to a large degree through interpretative reading of the Old Testament, especially through a specific technique, prosopological exegesis.”

This seems to be in line with Daniel Boyarin’s “The Jewish Gospels.” Bates notes and commends Boyarin’s work, but places it in a different argumentative category from PE, which he feels needs supplementation.

This is obviously very mind warping for the conventional mindset. But, wait! There’s more.

A key part of PE is what Bates calls “theodrama.” Essentially, when we have these interpersonal dialogues we are witnessing something that happened at an earlier time presaging something that will happen at a later time. In essence, when the Psalmist wrote the verse about “the Lord said to my Lord,” the Psalmist was a prophet channeling something that had happened long before, perhaps at the beginning of time, which would not come to fruition, or which might not be said, until after the life of the prophet.

This is illuminated by the words spoken with respect to the baptism of Jesus that “You are my son. Today, I have begotten you.” It is not hard to see this as an Adoptionist text; namely, Jesus did not become the Son of God until he was adopted at the baptism. That interpretation is rejected by PE:

“As portrayed by the Evangelists, when Jesus was baptized in the Jordan by John, the heavens were opened, the Holy Spirit descended upon Jesus in the form of a dove, and a voice came from heaven, saying: “You are my Son, the beloved one, with you I am well pleased” (Mark 1: 11; Luke 3: 22; Western text of Matt. 3: 17) or less directly, “This is my Son, the beloved one, with whom I am well pleased” (Matt. 3: 17).46 The allusion to Psalm 2: 7 LXX is quite obvious—it is widely recognized by current biblical scholarship—not least because the allusion is made emphatic in some portions of the textual tradition and the early reception history, which turn the words into a direct quote of Psalm 2: 7 LXX: “You are my Son, today I have begotten you.”47
Yet, what the bulk of biblical scholarship misses is that, unless we are to suggest their exegeses were idiosyncratic vis-à-vis the rest of the earliest church, the Gospel writers would have sought the meaning of this allusion by reflecting on Psalm 2: 7 through a person-centered exegetical process.48 More specifically, previous New Testament scholarship pertaining to this allusion at the baptism and transfiguration has tended to see it merely as a direct speech made by God to Jesus that evokes Psalm 2: 7 in accordance with the surface narrative in the Gospels, but has neglected an absolutely crucial datum.49 As will be shown, for the earliest Christians Psalm 2: 7 was consistently regarded not merely as a direct speech made by the Father to the Son, but rather it was taken as a speech within a speech that was originally spoken by the Son, who was reporting the words the Father had spoken to him at an earlier time, all of which has critical implications for how Christology and Trinitarian dogma developed.”

Bates breaks this down as follows:

“God (speaking to Jesus at the baptism): You are my Son…
Jesus (thinking to Himself): Those are the words that the person—the “me”—in the second psalm reported that the Father had spoken previously to him. Seemingly, God is hereby indicating that I correspond to the “me,” the addressee. But exactly who is this addressee according to the psalm?
Jesus (thinking to Himself): During the time of David, this addressee was able to report a previous conversation between God and himself, “The Lord God said to me, ‘You are my Son, today I have begotten you,’” so this “me” was begotten as Son before the time of the speech if David is able to report it in this fashion.”

Again, mind-blown.

Obviously, none of this is apparent on the surface of the text to us today, who might view this as ad hoc and bafflegab, but it was the way that the text was read in the formative years of Christianity, and, thus, it is not only normative, but Christianity becomes largely incoherent without it.

Bates points out that PE is flexible enough to be used by heretics, such as the Gnostics. In fact, the Gnostics were quite willing to personify different texts to different other persons, such Ialdabaoth and the Demiurge. So what could be done to keep PE properly reined in?

The answer was to remain within Christian tradition as taught by apostolic succession. According to Bates:

“Quite succinctly, Sextus Empiricus says that when used in the literary sense, it refers to “the peripeteia, (or ‘argument’ or ‘plot’) of a drama.”19 For Irenaeus the hypothesis of the Scripture taken as whole is the Rule of Truth (kanōn tēs alētheias), which Irenaeus himself claims to have received in an unbroken line from the apostles.”

Bates lays out some guidelines for the proper deployment of PE, so as to stay away from Gnostic nonsense. These guidelines can properly be boiled down to “read the text with the mind of the Church,” or always stay oriented to Holy Tradition:

“Thus, the “literal sense” of these Old Testament prophetic texts must be sought within the bounds of the entire divine economy, including the apostolic proclamation about Jesus, even though the apostolic proclamation is not, strictly speaking, found in the Old Testament itself.”

Now, Bates is a Protestant, so one wonders where that leaves Sola Scriptura.

But that is a question for another day.

[Deiniol Williams · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a book first and foremost about hermeneutics, specifically one hermeneutic applied by NT writers and early church fathers when interpreting OT texts where it is unclear who the speaker/person spoken to is (eg Ps 2, “You are my son, today I have begotten you”). Bates argues persuasively that ancient readers would commonly assign the role of speaker/person spoken to, with certain controls in place restricting their hermeneutic (the speaker/person spoken to can’t be assigned from the immediate context nor what is known about the historical situation, the assigned speaker/person spoken to must be shown to plausibly take up such a role by what is known elsewhere in Scripture and in particular the divine economy [the history of salvation as it unfolds], and such a designation must fit with the central message of the Apostolic proclamation). For these controls as being consciously applied, Bates leans on Justin Martyr and Irenaeus.

Bates consistently makes the point that this hermeneutic is not typology, contra Hays, but terms it “prosopological” exegesis. This is because, he argues, the OT prophet would sometimes speak in the place of another character, as an actor in a drama. So, in Psalm 2, David speaks as the person of the Father to the person of the Son (“You are my Son, today I have begotten you”). Bates treats numerous texts to demonstrate how this can be shown to be the case and his exegetical work is thorough.

As with the title of the book, Bates then also wants to show how this method of interpretation reveals that the NT writers and early church fathers had a “person-centred” reading of the OT, giving way to his suggestion that Father, Son and Spirit were understood as divine “persons” very early on. This doesn’t dominate the book, but he brings the argument together in the final chapter.

A very stimulating book on (pre-modern) biblical interpretation with lots of scholarly works referenced for the reader to follow up with. It came highly recommended and I also highly recommend it.

[Joshua · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a game-changing book, which, I believe, will forever transform the way I read Scripture. Though the book's title might seem to suggest that the author is expounding a facile heresy, the author actually puts forth a coherent explanation of how the early Church came to an understanding of the Trinity using an ancient method of interpreting dialogical shifts in texts. Essentially, he argues that many instances in which the Jesus, the New Testament authors, and the early fathers have commonly been assumed to be reading the Jewish Scriptures typologically, they are in fact using a method here designated as prosopological exegesis (from the Greek prosopon for "person.") He interacts with the early fathers as well as the work of Bart Ehrman, Larry Hurtado, N.T. Wright, Richard Bauckham, and others. The book is enthusiastically endorsed by Matthew Levering, among others.

[Luke Stamps · Rating 4 out of 5]

Detailed, thorough analysis of early Christian (NT and early Patristic) readings of Old Testament dialogical texts that prophetically cast the divine persons as characters in a theodrama, which stretches from before creation through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus to his final exaltation. My only complaint is the way that Bates consistently sets his prosopological approach in opposition to typological readings. Some texts may defy a typological approach and thus may be more directly prophetic (e.g., Psalm 110), but for others a prosopological reading seems dependent upon certain typologies built into the OT narrative itself (e.g., the anointed Son of Psalm 2). The anti-type no doubt surpasses the significations involved in the type, but the relation is more organic than a direct "stepping into another character" approach allows.

[Michael Kenan Baldwin · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the best books of biblical scholarship to emerge in the last few years. It sheds light on so much, not only in New Testament studies, but also Old Testament, NT use of the Old, patristic exegesis, Trinitarian theology, how we should interpret Scripture today etc.

[Joel Wentz · Rating 4 out of 5]

Like so many others have noted, this book is utterly fascinating and defies simple categories. Bates explores "prosopological exegesis," and defends its validity as an interpretive method in theological history. If you are intimidated by the term "prosopological exegesis," you should know Bates does a great job explaining it and situating it in history, as well as demonstrating how the patristics engaged in it, so the reader of this book gains a significant understanding of what this interpretive method looks like, and how it is relevant to the unfolding of Christian orthodoxy in the early centuries of the church.

Bates does a commendable job here, and I will be thinking about this book for a while. I think he ably demonstrates what this exegetical method looks like, and makes a strong case for its presence in the early church (as well as how invalid approaches were attempted by the Gnostics). If anything, I would have liked even more pages, examples, and more development in the final chapter in terms of how this method contributed to the doctrinal claims in Nicaea and Chalcedon.

A very worthwhile book, and one that truly is unique in the midst of books defending or critiquing Christian orthodoxy and church history.

[Mitchell Traver · Rating 5 out of 5]

A reminder that what is new can also be old. Prosopological exegesis is remarkably historic, well attested not only by many of the early fathers but even within the NT canon itself. Yet, the historical theology behind the interpretative framework is largely uncharted territory for moderns. Thus, what is old is in a sense quite new. Matthew’s work here is substantial, critical, charitable, and even in a sense doxological. It was a heady, yet rewarding book to chew through. More works like this are sorely needed for the enrichment of the church existing amongst many peoples and places.

[Drew · Rating 3 out of 5]

I like much about this book but also found it frustrating to read on a number of levels. I am generally not a fan of “no one understood this crucial aspect of theology until me” works, although I like many of the implications of this book for the history of Christian doctrine.

[Jamie Schultz · Rating 3 out of 5]

A little too much for me but would probably be great for the scholarly researcher

[Tommi Karjalainen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Argues that typology is not the best way to explain why Jesus, for example, could be seen in the OT speaking with the mouth of David. Instead he proposes prosopological / theodramatic reading, which he argues goes back to ancient times.

In prosopological exegesis the prophet is allowed to witness a dialogue or a scene in the heavenly and timeless realm, which is to take place in the future, and that the NT writers write from the perspective of actualization of the dialogue in history. The prophet sees accurately but is a finite witness.

Bates is persuasive but what he does not make clear enough is that he is not challenging all typological readings, but only the typological readings in regard to OT dialogues. Perhaps too much repetition in regard to the examples (esp. Ps 110).

[Steve Stanley · Rating 3 out of 5]

closer to 2.5 stars

[Bagesq · Rating 3 out of 5]

Found via Luke Stamps twitter