Character of the Audiences
In the first chapter of his book Christianizing the Roman Empire, Ramsay MacMullen, emeritus Yale professor of history and classics, points out what seems to be obvious—namely, that “from the very beginning, Jesus’ disciples followed him instantly, without instruction.” During following years, he continues, “new adherents, by supernatural actions, were won to instantaneous belief, or trust.”1 None, it seems, required any doctrinal teaching before becoming followers of Jesus.
In his effort to support these observations, MacMullen turns to ancient sources. He cites two among many, one Christian and one pagan, about two centuries apart. The Christian source derives from the Religious History of Theodoret, the controversial bishop of Cyrrhus in Syria (died c. AD 466). Theodoret wrote about the miraculous conversion of hundreds of Bedouin who traveled to a pillar of stone some “forty miles east of Antioch” to see a certain Symeon who lived on its top.2 The pagan source is from “a votive stele put up in a Saturn-shrine twenty miles from Carthage in A.D. 238.” The Saturn worship, led by a visionary priest, miraculously secured good health for devotees. MacMullen concludes that “for both the Christian and the non-Christian, in such scenes [that produced miracles] the essential and, so far as we can tell, the only thing believed in was some supernatural power to bestow benefits.”3 Simple and to the point.
To cement this conclusion into place, he turns to the religiosity of people living in Saxony and nearby regions of Germany around AD 1600, a much later period that, in his assembling of evidence, sheds relevant light on the first and second centuries AD. In those European areas, after a person discounts “the upper-class circles, . . . the vast bulk of the population are found to have been largely or totally ignorant of the simplest matters of doctrine, rarely or never attending church.”4 MacMullen’s general conclusion is that the religious masses are almost totally ignorant of the basic teachings of their faith, especially those who came to their belief through an unusual or miraculous experience.
However, I judge that the earliest Christians were different. How so? A review of the New Testament and early Christian literature shows that Christian church leaders felt responsible for instructing their fellow church members on how to follow Christ as their spiritual model. In its own way, education about how to live in this fashion was more important than embracing miracles.
To be sure, the kinds of miraculous occurrences described by Theodoret in the eastern Mediterranean and documented by the stele at the Saturn shrine in North Africa find similar exemplars in the ministries of Jesus and the Apostle Paul, wherein uncounted, unnamed people were healed and received relief because of the divine powers entrusted to these two men and other associates. Even so, early followers doubtless embraced some sort of belief in what Jesus and Paul taught.
In Jesus’ case, two scenes present themselves. In one, at the end of a Sabbath day in Capernaum, “when the sun was setting, all they that had any sick with divers diseases brought them unto [Jesus]; and he laid his hands on every one of them, and healed them” (Luke 4:40). A few days or weeks later, after Jesus had chosen and announced the Twelve, he uttered his landmark Sermon on the Plain at a nearby location. As he moved among the gathered crowd, who “came to hear him, and to be healed of their diseases; . . . the whole multitude [surged and] sought to touch him: for there went virtue [“power,” Greek singular dynamis] out of him, and healed them all” (Luke 6:17, 19). The recipients of Jesus’ healing powers were surely grateful for the relief from disease and other afflictions. But months later, recalling the healings at Capernaum at the end of a Sabbath day, Jesus leveled criticism: the healing experiences did not lead to true commitment. Why? Jesus uncovered the reasons when he began “to upbraid the cities wherein most of his mighty works [Greek plural dynameis] were done, because they repented not.” Specifically, Jesus condemned the town of Capernaum and its inhabitants: “Thou, Capernaum, which art exalted unto heaven, shalt be brought down to hell: for if the mighty works, which have been done in thee, had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day” (Matt. 11:20, 23). Plainly, Jesus hoped that those who had received his healing would respond to his message with faith and repentance.
In a second instance, we see Jesus descending from Nazareth to Capernaum and attending a synagogue service on the Sabbath. In the building, “there was a man, which had a spirit of an unclean devil.” At a certain point, Jesus “rebuked” the devil and forced him out of the man. Naturally, the crowd was “all amazed” (Luke 4:31–36). In that crowd were certainly Peter and his brother Andrew, into whose home Jesus was invited following the service. There is good reason to suppose that the future Apostles James and John, and possibly Levi, were also in the synagogue that morning and witnessed the exorcism. Why? Because Mark records that, after the service, in a group that included Jesus, “they entered into the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John,” where they found the mother of Peter’s wife lying “sick of a fever.” In that home, Jesus “took her by the hand, and lifted her up; and immediately the fever left her” (Mark 1:29–31). At this moment, at least four of Jesus’ future Apostles had witnessed two miracles in one morning, the first in the synagogue and the second in the home. To be sure, we do not know whether Levi saw either of the miracles, but he surely would have heard about them soon enough. But that is not the whole story.
The action continues a day or two later on the nearby shore of the Sea of Galilee. Although MacMullen claims that the wider group of disciples followed Jesus without knowing his teachings, we soon see that MacMullen’s observation needs refining. As Jesus was pressed by people on the shoreline “to hear the word of God,” he spotted “two ships standing by the lake.” Jesus climbed “into one of the ships, which was Simon’s, and prayed that he would thrust out a little from the land.” At that point, Jesus “sat down, and taught the people out of the ship” (Luke 5:1–3). Although we possess nothing of what Jesus said on that occasion, it is important to notice that Simon Peter and his brother Andrew heard Jesus’ sermon while working with their nets and sitting in the boat next to him. Judging from what Jesus said to gatherings on other occasions, we understand that they and the members of the crowd now knew something of his message and his expectations for believers. Further, it is reasonable to believe that James and John were part of the listening crowd that day because they were nearby when a net erupted with an overwhelming catch of fish. Hence, although they had already witnessed miracles, these men were not uninformed when Jesus called them to “catch men” (Luke 5:6–10).
Besides this scene, it is also reasonable to think that one or more of these men had heard John the Baptist declare Jesus to be “the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). After all, Andrew was an early disciple of John and introduced his brother Simon Peter to Jesus (see John 1:40–42). Later, Andrew and another disciple of John spent an entire Sabbath with Jesus. One can only imagine what the conversation was like. Because Jesus always guided discussions, Andrew and his friend would have likely come away from their experience with a grasp of Jesus’ teachings, even if rather elementary (see John 1:35–39).
In Paul’s case, we read that he resided in Ephesus for “two years; so that all they which dwelt in Asia heard the word of the Lord Jesus, both Jews and Greeks.” Moreover, we learn that “God wrought special miracles by the hands of Paul.” What were those miracles? Some were “so that from his body were brought unto the sick handkerchiefs or aprons, and the diseases departed from them, and the evil spirits went out of them” (Acts 19:10–12). We are not informed whether the recipients of these stunning powers were Christians or outsiders who had simply heard of miracles wrought by him and were seeking relief. Notably, many would soon turn away from him and his message. Such occurrences are documented by his own words.
First, we turn to Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians, a letter written c. AD 48. In a tough response to Christians residing in central Asia Minor who had turned away from his message of peace and grace to one of laws and confining guidelines, he seethed, “I marvel that ye are so soon removed from him that called you into the grace of Christ unto another gospel.” He had more to say. He knew that “there be some that trouble you, and would pervert the gospel of Christ.” Now he almost shouted, “Though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed.” Trying to control his rage, he repeated his earlier words for emphasis: “If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed” (Gal. 1:6–9). What is the clear, vivid message? Galatians, written before AD 50, paints a scene filled with dark, clanging colors that portray Church members turning away from principles and doctrines that Paul had taught them, leading him to question whether he had “bestowed upon [them] labour in vain” and to wonder who “did hinder [them] that [they] should not obey the truth?” (Gal. 4:11; 5:7).5
Turning to 1 Corinthians, written very possibly in AD 55 while Paul was still residing in Ephesus,6 we find Paul writing about facing “many adversaries” (1 Cor. 16:8–9). Not long afterward, in a second letter to Corinth, he made a disturbing reference to “our trouble which came to us in Asia, . . . insomuch that we despaired even of life” (2 Cor. 1:8).7 A few months later, from a ship taking him toward Jerusalem, Paul disembarked at Miletus and requested that “the elders of the church” in Ephesus join him there (Acts 20:15–17). After Church leaders and others finally reached him, likely after three days’ journey, Paul gave to them a farewell speech. On that occasion, he begged those present that they “take heed therefore unto yourselves, and to all the flock.” He then surprised his Ephesian friends by warning “that after my departing shall grievous wolves enter in among you, not sparing the flock.” Worse than these outsiders, he intoned, “of your own selves shall men arise, speaking perverse things, to draw away disciples after them” (Acts 20:28–30).
What becomes clear is that Paul, the first Christian author and one of the first missionaries, was fighting a battle of retreat. Converts turned away from his message even while he lived. This circumstance appears surprising to Paul because he had set up a means to keep people on track. Besides the weekly remaking of covenants when partaking of the Eucharist, or sacrament, Paul consistently reviewed scriptures and church teachings with them.
We catch a first glimpse of this arrangement when Paul discussed the relative value of speaking in tongues and prophesying during church services in 1 Corinthians 14. Behind this chapter’s long discussion is the fact that the earliest Christians instructed each other. Of course, it is uncertain how much time was devoted to discussing scripture and to talking about the distinctive features of their faith. Writing more than a century later, in his First Apology, Justin Martyr noted in passing that the reading and discussing of scripture took place “as long as time permits.”8 But we don’t know whether this was so in Paul’s earlier era.
However, we do know that the unique message of the Atonement was an essential part of their education. For instance, Paul wrote, “I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures” (1 Cor. 15:3, emphasis added; see also 1 Cor. 11:23–29). This was his message and the message of other missionaries (see Rom. 16:25; 1 Cor. 15:12–20). From this, we can conclude that Church members were not like the pagan masses, who, for worship, merely “called upon the gods . . . and with incense and wine made obeisance to [the Roman emperor’s] statue.”9 Worship for Christians included receiving a reservoir of truth about Jesus Christ’s Atonement that led them not just to a broad understanding but more precisely—to faith in Christ (see 1 Cor. 2:4–5).10 In all of their worship, they were not to be “contentious,” for which “we have no such custom, neither the churches of God”; indeed, they were to avoid sparking “divisions” inside their congregations (1 Cor. 11:16, 18–19).
That such instruction within Christian worship continued to be the norm is evident from both later Christian and Roman sources. The Didache, also known as The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles, was composed perhaps as early as AD 100 and perhaps as late as AD 150.11 It came to serve as a handbook-like manual on church morals and procedure. Mirroring the presence of teachers, both resident and itinerant, we read, “Whosoever, therefore, cometh and teacheth you all these things that have been said before [as summarized in the Didache], receive him.” In addition, if an instructor “teach so as to increase righteousness and the knowledge of the Lord, receive him as the Lord” (Didache 11:1–2). Importantly, the teaching in the church embraced practical matters too. For example, an unemployed person was “not [to] live with you idle” (Didache 12:4). When a “wayfarer” arrived among them, believers were to “assist him as far as ye are able” (Didache 12:2).12 And so it went.
The practice of instruction in Christian congregations is made certain in the middle of the second century by Justin Martyr, who was born in Samaria c. AD 114 and spent his career in Rome until his death c. AD 165. In his First Apology, written during the reign of the emperor Antoninus Pius (AD 137–61), he made another simple reference to instruction in the church. After describing the Eucharist, or sacrament, he then affirmed that “we afterwards [in our meetings] continually remind each other of these things.” Further, “on the day called Sunday, all who live in cities or in the country gather together to one place, and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read.” Thereafter, “the president verbally instructs, and exhorts to the imitation of these good things.” In a generous act, to “those who are absent” from the weekly church service and are thus not able to partake of the sacrament, or Eucharist, “a portion [of the sacrament] is sent by the deacons.”13
Predating Justin’s First Apology, and possibly the Didache, stands the important letter of Pliny the Younger, the Roman governor of Bithynia-Pontus in northern Asia Minor (AD 109–111), in which he details to Emperor Trajan how he dealt with Christians who embraced “a debased and boundless superstition.”14 His letter dates to the autumn of AD 11015 and frames the earliest non-Christian description of Christian beliefs and practices. From his interviews with lapsed believers, Pliny learned that “at dawn on a fixed day” (Sunday), Christians assembled “to sing a hymn antiphonally to Christ as God.” During the service, they bound “themselves by an oath, not for the commission of some crime, but to avoid acts of theft, brigandage, and adultery, [and] not to break their word.”16 Among the “elements to be distinguished in the regular occasions of the church,” we find “the meeting for instruction by preaching and reading, diversified by prayer and singing.”17
From what we have reviewed thus far, we behold the early Christians as more than an uninformed mass of people with simple, basic beliefs. On the contrary, through the Gospels and through Paul’s first correspondence with Church members in Corinth, we see faith in Christ resting on a Spirit-centered teaching rather than on the enticing character of miracles. We also see a conscious effort among believers to educate themselves and each other about the important principles and doctrines linked to Jesus and his Atonement. By instruction, these people came to constitute informed converts as documented in the New Testament, no matter their ethnic or social backgrounds and living conditions.
Who Were the Audiences?
The Letters in the Book of Revelation
Most New Testament letters name their audiences, but not all. In the book of Revelation, written about AD 95, we possess seven letters given to churches in western Asia Minor (see Rev. 1:4; 2–3). Addressed to congregations within an area stretching 100 miles from Pergamum in the north to Ephesus in the south, as well as 130 miles inland and eastward to Laodicea,18 the letters show that the main challenges for these church members were persecution and apostasy.19 One puzzle is why the churches at Colossae and Hierapolis, which were located near Laodicea, were not included in the seven letters. Possibly, the number of believers in these two cities were small when Revelation was composed, or the church members in the two cities were thought of as included within the circle of Laodicea.
The book of Revelation reflects the dire consequences of persecution against church members in the seven congregations. Beginning in the years under Emperor Domitian (AD 81–96), Christians were caught by the faith-challenging requirement to offer sacrifice to the deified Roman emperor. Penalties for noncompliance could bring exile, a fine, or even death. Christians felt like they could not offer sacrifice to the emperor and also worship Christ. We learn of a man named Antipas from Pergamum in western Asia Minor, who paid the ultimate penalty of death for his faith in Christ (see Rev. 2:10, 13). Moreover, to underscore the reality of persecution, we observe that the book of Revelation was written by John on the island of Patmos after Roman authorities exiled him there because of his refusal to worship Domitian (see Rev. 1:9). Holding onto one’s belief in this era was unsettling and could be costly—even deadly.
Further, the book of Revelation also exposes the inner turmoil of apostasy, even heresy, among the seven congregations in the days of its composition.20 For example, in Revelation we read about traveling teachers in Ephesus, the Apostle Paul’s old stomping ground (see Acts 19:1–20:1), “which say they are apostles, and are not.” Church members in Ephesus had “tried” or tested the claims of these itinerant preachers and “found them liars” (Rev. 2:2). These people were not claiming to be among the Twelve but were saying that they were authorized teachers of the gospel message.21 Then we hear about “the Nicolaitans, which I [the Lord] also hate” (Rev. 2:6, 15). Evidently, these people were antinomians, who believed that because Jesus had freed his followers from the law and its requirements, it was necessary to participate in all lawless and licentious acts in order to be able to surmount worldly temptations.22
The Letters of Paul
Some of Paul’s letters have led to questions about whether he was their author. Speaking generally, all scholars accept only four as certainly from him—Romans, the two Corinthian letters, and Galatians. Beyond these four, scholars part ways. In general, the most radical scholars believe that Paul wrote only the four and customarily assign the others to unknown authors, usually disciples of Paul. Traditional scholars, although admitting that problems adhere to certain letters, hold that all the epistles ascribed to Paul since antiquity were written or dictated by him.23 A third group generally accepts Paul’s authorship of all the letters assigned to him except the pastoral Epistles (the two letters to Timothy and the one to Titus) and the Epistle to the Hebrews. Since the second century and until modern times, it was acknowledged that all the letters ascribed to Paul were sent to the congregations and individuals whom we know from our copies of the New Testament, including the Epistle to the Ephesians, whose phrase “at Ephesus” is missing from the earliest manuscript of his letter as well as from other important texts (Eph. 1:1).24 Only the traditional scholars still hold to this viewpoint.
Broadly speaking and adopting the traditional view of Paul’s Epistles for the moment, most of his surviving letters were written to congregations gathered in certain cities (for example, Romans) or to groups of believers spread across a large definable area (for example, Galatians). Only four were written to individuals: the short Epistle to Philemon and the three pieces of correspondence to Timothy and Titus. In the case of Philemon, the letter was carried by Onesimus to Colossae, where Epaphras was a church leader with whom Paul had spent difficult days (see Philem. 1:10, 12, 23, and Col. 4:9, 12–13).25 The two Epistles to Timothy were presumably sent to Timothy at Ephesus (see 1 Tim. 1:3 and 2 Tim. 1:18), and the letter to Titus apparently reached him on the island of Crete (see Titus 1:5).26
The Epistle to the Hebrews reveals a group of recipients that differs from all others, except perhaps the audiences of the Gospel of Matthew, the Epistle of James, and the book of Revelation. The teacher of Clement of Alexandria, Pantaenus, who became the first head of the famous catechetical school in Alexandria, knew this letter as “To the Hebrews.”27 The Epistle, almost a treatise, addresses Jewish Christians who had a high regard for Moses (see Heb. 3:1–6) and a background in temple liturgy (see Heb. 6:19–7:28). This observation is confirmed by the publication of the fragmentary Commentary on Melchizedek from the Dead Sea Scrolls found in Cave 11 (11Q13 [11QMelch]).28 In that text, written in Hebrew and composed before the Epistle to the Hebrews was written, the Palestinian Jewish author ascribes to Melchizedek the same characteristics that Hebrews assigns to Jesus. “Melchizedek is presented as a heavenly Redemption figure who will execute divine judgment and salvation. . . . The heavenly Son of God of Hebrews 7, who rules above all heavenly and earthly powers, and lives forever to make intercession for those who put their trust in him, has his counterpart now in the heavenly Melchizedek at Qumran.”29 This is not all. The Melchizedek text brings together important “Old Testament passages centering in Isaiah 61 and the jubilee-year text in Leviticus 25” as well as other passages, chiefly from the Psalms, that “contemporized Old Testament texts” in an expectation of Melchizedek’s role in the salvation drama that was about to unfold.30 We meet exactly the same style of reflection and commentary on key Old Testament passages discussed in Hebrews 1, which mostly quote from Psalms except the quotation from 2 Samuel 7:14 in Hebrews 1:5. It is evident, therefore, that the letter to the Hebrews consisted of a general circular aimed at Christianized Jews.31
The Seven Catholic Epistles
The letters not associated with the Apostle Paul, called the Catholic Epistles by Christian authors of the third and fourth centuries,32 present intriguing scenarios in the nascent church. The letter from James, whose author was possibly the younger brother of Jesus, was aimed at an audience that is named “the twelve tribes which are scattered abroad” (James 1:1). If, in fact, this James was the Epistle’s author, its composition predated AD 62, when James was stoned to death in Jerusalem.33 Owing to its very Jewish character, the letter seems to be composed mainly for Jewish Christian members of the Church. As we have already noticed, the letter joins the Gospel of Matthew, the Epistle to the Hebrews, and the book of Revelation as the most Jewish books in the New Testament. As an example, James writes the term “synagogue” in a place where we expect a pointer to the church (KJV translated the Greek synagogē as “assembly” in James 2:2). In its substance, “it is an interpretation of the Old Testament law and the Sermon on the Mount in the light of the Christian Gospel.”34 Historically, it remained among the disputed works into the medieval period, being famously rejected by Martin Luther as nonapostolic and as countering the Apostle Paul’s teaching.35 Perhaps ironically, the Epistle of James became the main springboard for the Restoration of the gospel after Joseph Smith read the lines in James 1:5–6 (see JS–H 1:11–13).
The two letters from Peter offer contrasting contents. First Peter is addressed to Church members, whom he calls “strangers,” in central and northern Asia Minor—“throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia” (1 Pet. 1:1). Second Peter is written more generally “to them that have obtained like precious faith with us” (2 Pet. 1:1). The intended recipients may have been the same. One of 1 Peter’s dominant themes is “suffering” because of persecution (1 Pet. 3:14; 4:12, 19; 5:9). We are not to “be troubled” by afflictions, he wrote, because Christ suffered, “leaving us an example” (1 Pet. 2:21; 3:14; see also 1 Pet. 1:11; 2:23; 5:1).36 In my opinion, the first letter’s treasury holds some of the most sublime doctrines in the New Testament. In mild contrast, 2 Peter sends out a warning about apostasy creeping into Christian ranks. Specifically, this condition is to come in the form of “false prophets” and “false teachers among you, who privily shall bring in damnable heresies.” Peter worried that people would believe the heretics when he said, “Many shall follow their pernicious ways” (2 Pet. 2:1–2). But this is only part of the story. Evidently, among some congregations, these people had already arrived and enjoyed full fellowship. Calling them “blemishes,” Peter wrote that they had come “with their own deceivings while they feast with you” (2 Pet. 2:13). The music had gone out of tune. That said, 2 Peter includes a few passages well known to Latter-day Saints; to wit, “Be partakers of the divine nature” (2 Pet. 1:4), “Make your calling and election sure” (2 Pet. 1:10), “No prophecy of the scripture is of any private interpretation” (2 Pet. 1:20), and “The day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night” (2 Pet. 3:10).37
If we can assign a location to the three letters of John, they fit in western Asia Minor. John was last active in that region during his mortal life. In the book of Revelation, the letters to the seven churches of the Roman province of Asia clearly tie John’s late ministry to that area (see Rev. 2–3). Like 2 Peter, the three Epistles of John also exhibit the growing, worrisome threats of apostasy underlined in that letter. And like Peter’s correspondence, John’s letters reflect the Christian situation in Asia Minor. For example, we learn about “many antichrists” (1 John 2:18), “many false prophets” (1 John 4:1), and “many deceivers . . . who confess not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh” (2 John 1:7; see also 1 John 4:3). Plainly, a form of docetism—a doctrine that Jesus had not come in the flesh but only seemed to do so—had invaded the churches in ancient Turkey (see 1 John 4:2–3 and 2 John 1:7). What is more, we find certain Church leaders refused to receive apostolic representatives (see 3 John 1:9–10).38
The Epistle of Jude offers the intriguing possibility of another letter from a brother of Jesus, for he calls himself “the servant of Jesus Christ, and brother of James” (Jude 1:1). Several Judes or Judases are known from scripture, of course. But his link to James opens the door to a relationship to Jesus, an older brother (see Matt. 13:55 and Mark 6:3). This Jude characterized his audience as “them that are sanctified by God the Father, and preserved in Jesus Christ” (Jude 1:1). Even in this light, we cannot determine the letter’s destination. The best possibility consists of believers in ancient Palestine, which included Galilee since Jude’s family continued to reside there. According to Hegesippus, an early Christian author of the second century AD, Emperor Domitian set in motion a dragnet to find descendants of King David and destroy them as threats to the Roman government. Caught in the net were two grandsons of Jude who appeared before Domitian as farmers of small plots of ground, likely in Galilee where Jude’s family possibly owned property since the days of Mary and Joseph. Deeming them to be no threat, the emperor dismissed them.39 In his letter, Jude warned against false teachers, “certain men [who] crept in unawares, who were . . . ungodly men, turning the grace of our God into lasciviousness, and denying . . . our Lord Jesus Christ” (Jude 1:4). In both its tenor and content, the Epistle resembles 2 Peter, which must have served as a model for Jude’s letter.40
The Gospels and the Book of Acts
Among the Gospels, only Luke spells out his audience—an individual who was a ranking Roman official named Theophilus (see Luke 1:3 and Acts 1:1). To determine the readerships of the other Gospels, one must look for clues inside their narratives.
The genealogy that opens Matthew’s story about Jesus is one that especially Jewish readers would have appreciated (see Matt. 1:1–17) because it hinges on the names of David and Abraham (Matt. 1:1). In addition, students of Matthew’s Gospel have long noticed his clear objective to place Jesus’ ministry within the framework of Old Testament prophecy fulfilled. Before chapter 1 ends, we read the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy about a virgin giving birth to a son named Emmanuel: “Now all this was done, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet [Isaiah]” (Matt. 1:22; see Isa. 7:14). Matthew repeats similar wording another ten times in connection with crucial moments in Jesus’ life and ministry (see Matt. 2:15, 17, 23; 8:17; 12:17; etc.). Even Jesus referred to fulfilling prophecy at the time of his arrest, asking Peter, who had just assaulted the high priest’s servant by cutting off his ear, “How then shall the scriptures be fulfilled [about Jesus’ suffering], that thus it must be?” (Matt. 26:54).
Furthermore, scholars have found that the teachings of Jesus recorded by Matthew are divided into five parts, likely in imitation of the five books of Moses in the Old Testament. Each part is separated by an expression like “And it came to pass, when Jesus had ended these sayings” (Matt. 7:28; see also Matt. 11:1; 13:53; 19:1; 26:1). The lesson is that Jesus is the new lawgiver, replacing the prophet Moses. Although we could point to other Jewish features, such as the emphasis on Jesus as the new Davidic king, these examples suffice to make the case that Matthew was writing to fellow Jews.41 It is almost as if Matthew was responding to questions from Jewish acquaintances who asked, “Well, if Jesus was the Messiah, why did I not see him in that light?”
Mark’s Gospel, in the view of most New Testament scholars, holds pride of place as the first Gospel written, from which the other three authors derived much of their inspiration and material about Jesus. And why did they follow his lead? Likely because Mark was reproducing accounts of the chief Apostle Peter, and that fact carried weight.42 In this connection, Papias, an early Christian author who was active between AD 120 and 140 and whose writings are preserved only in part through short quotations from later authors, reported that Mark was the interpreter of Peter during the years before Peter’s death in Rome c. AD 64 when the emperor Nero’s persecution of Christians roared to life (see a possible reference to Mark in “Marcus my son” at 1 Pet. 5:13). Mark was evidently the same as John Mark, whose mother owned a home in Jerusalem where believers used to gather. It was this Mark who accompanied Paul on his first missionary journey (see Acts 12:12, 25; 13:5). According to Papias, Mark was himself not an original disciple of Jesus and hence his Gospel consisted of “all that he recalled of what” Peter had said, working hard “not to omit anything of what he heard.” 43 Knowing that Mark recorded what Peter taught gives us insight into Mark’s audience.
In addition, when Mark recorded Jesus’ prophecy of the fall of Jerusalem, his Gospel shows no knowledge of the fateful events of AD 70 when the city succumbed to the Roman army (they would have been easy to insert in some form). We can conclude that Mark must have written his Gospel before the end of AD 69. Further, when Mark accompanied Peter to Rome, he likely witnessed the fury of Nero’s persecution and its deadly aftermath. Because Mark presented “the Christ who continues to speak and act meaningfully in the context of crisis,”44 and because his record exhibits Latinisms that are characteristic of the Roman Empire,45 the best candidate for the place of composition is Rome. With this in mind, Mark’s Gospel was likely written for Gentile Christians whom he had met on his journeys with Peter and who resided in the broader Roman Empire, but especially in Italy.46
The Gospel of Luke and the book of Acts likely have the same audience because the same author wrote them.47 This observation is made firm in the dedication of the two volumes to a certain Theophilus (see Luke 1:3 and Acts 1:1). This man may well have sponsored Luke’s task to write an account of the growth of the gospel message from a backwater area in tiny Galilee to a major institution that spread its influence to Rome, the capital city of a vast empire. We judge that Theophilus was a ranking Roman official because of the words Luke assigns to him: “most excellent,” a title that shows up elsewhere in Acts for other Roman dignitaries (see Acts 23:26; 24:3; 26:25). As a second- or third-generation believer, Luke was not one of the original “eyewitnesses and ministers of the word” (Luke 1:2). As a Gentile and an occasional companion to Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles (see Col. 4:14 and 2 Tim. 4:11), Luke’s intent was to tell the story of Jesus and his disciples to a Gentile audience. This is evident not only in Luke’s dedication of his two volumes to the Gentile man Theophilus but also in his excellent Greek style and in his portrayal of Jews who fought the Christian faith in a very bad light (see Acts 13:44–50; 14:1–5, 19; 17:5–13; 18:12–17; 21:26–31). To fit with his interest in the gospel spreading to the Gentiles, he knowingly added the account of the call and mission of the Seventy, whose specific assignment was to preach to Gentiles (see Luke 10:1–12, 17–20 and D&C 107:25).48
John’s Gospel begins with a bang: “In the beginning,” a clear imitation of the opening of the first book of scripture in the Old Testament. This opening points to one of John’s audiences: Jewish Christians. His Gospel does not seem to be for the uninitiated but rather for those already in the Christian fold. John knew Jewish law and expressed items from it in different contexts (see John 2:6; 18:28; 19:31). He also knew Old Testament scripture (see John 12:38–40; 13:18; 15:25; etc.). In addition, the text shows John’s acquaintance with Gentile ways, leading us to conclude that his audience also included Gentile Christians. For instance, the concern with the logos, or the “word,” exhibits ties to Stoic thought (see John 1:1, 9, 11; etc.). And Jesus’ statements about eating his flesh and drinking his blood form links to the mystery religions of the Greco-Roman world (see John 6:51–57). Naturally, John frames such elements so that they are understood within the life and ministry of Jesus, not a philosophical system or mystery religion.49
John’s purpose appears to have been paraenesis, or “teaching.” That is, his intent was to introduce his readers to a deeper, richer understanding of who Jesus was and is and how his Atonement has made a difference for all.50 John’s narratives of the wedding at Cana, Jesus’ meeting of the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well, Jesus’ raising of Lazarus, and other accounts have touched the lives of millions of Christian believers throughout the centuries and will continue to do so. John himself set out his objective when he wrote about his narrative: “These [stories] are written, that ye might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing ye might have life through his name” (John 20:31).
For Further Reading
Jackson, Kent P., and Robert L. Millet, eds. Studies in Scripture: Volume Five, The Gospels. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1986.
Millet, Robert L., ed. Studies in Scripture: Volume Six, Acts to Revelation. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1987.
