Abstract
Giambrone’s study argues that Luke adopts charity tropes from prior Jewish tradition and reconfigures them around the person of Jesus: “in the light of Jesus’ resurrection, Luke has conceived a practice of charity in which the redeeming action of Jesus invites a unique participation in the eschatological Jubilee of the kingdom, by which forgiveness . . . is made available on a massive scale” (56, emphasis original). Chapter 1 situates the study in relation to prior investigations into the “coherence” of Luke’s “wealth ethics.” One item especially worth mentioning here is the Forschungsbericht’s contextualization of the study in terms of the long-term effects of Reformation concerns on New Testament research: Reformation discomfort with “works-based righteousness” is argued to have contributed to “a general discomfort in New Testament studies with robust expressions of almsgiving” (38).
Chapter 2 explores Luke’s appropriation of the “sin as debt” metaphor that was widespread and enormously productive during the Second Temple period. Luke’s version of the Our Father concerned with forgiveness of sins (Luke 11:4) is argued to deploy this theme. Two further passages are also studied in detail—the story of the sinful woman, with its parable of the two debtors (Luke 7:36–50), and the saying about reconciling with one’s opponent in via (12:57–59). According to G., each of these passages exposes “a peculiarly Lukan Christology in which Jesus plays the role of Israel’s creditor” (67). Further, each exposes a uniquely Lukan move, in which “the ‘debt release’ . . . offered by God through Jesus is bound to the ‘debtor’ producing ‘fruits worthy of repentance’ through charitable deeds” (emphasis original).
In chapter 3, G. argues the importance of Second Temple charity discourse for the interpretation of the parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10:25–37. G. develops the claim that this lens “not only helps explain the widely neglected ending of the parable and thereby the traditional Christological reading. When taken as the organizing motif, charity can accommodate the various accents that have split modern interpretations of the parable. Most importantly, the definition of neighbor finds it [sic] place within the boundary marking aspect of charitable praxis, while an implicit critique of the cult is centered upon the topos of charity as ‘spiritual worship’” (208).
Chapter 4 examines Luke 16—a difficult chapter if ever there was one. Noting that the parable of the Unjust Steward (16:1–13) along with the Rich Man and Lazarus (16:19–31) form a triptych with the preceding Prodigal Son (15:11–32), G. argues that motifs of money and resurrection unite the triptych and make many of the puzzling features intelligible. In particular, though Proverbs 10:2 is not cited directly in Luke–Acts, G. argues that Luke 16 becomes readily intelligible on the supposition that Luke has adopted a common Second Temple interpretation of this proverb: that righteousness, understood as almsgiving, delivers from death. G. argues that Luke has dialectically linked two models of salvation in Luke 16: resurrection by works and resurrection by divine reversal. Though Luke cedes deference to God’s divine action, “Nevertheless, Luke has specifically tailored the God-driven paradigm of apocalyptic dualism to include a place for repentance, and in this way he has fused together in a single depiction the disparate models of divine predestination and human responsibility” (282).
The final chapter explores the significance of the preceding exegesis for “biblical theology.” This is a rich and suggestive chapter, and I can cite only a few examples from it. G. notes that Luke’s theology of charity presents a potential challenge to studies of Paul associated with the “New Perspective.” G. summarizes as follows: “The value of charity as a conspicuously moral boundary marker represents a problematic datum for the New Perspective. If salvation apart from ‘works of the Law’ is, as a matter of definition, taken as the nullification of Judaism’s ritual marks of belonging (circumcision and food laws), the remainder is not simply a community redefined apart from meritorious ethical performance. On the contrary, charity as a boundary marker and ‘the commandment’ par excellence remains in place as the organizing center of Christian identity” (293–94, emphasis original). A second example relates to Christology. G. detects an emergent, if still implicit claim of Jesus’ divinity in Lukan charity discourse: “In casting Jesus as the creditor who forgives the debt of sin, Luke directly positions Jesus in a narrative role conventionally reserved to God” (299). Finally, in relation to divine and human interaction in salvation, “A key result of this study . . . has been the demonstration that Luke’s Gospel pushes back against any attempted erasure of merit theology or so-called ‘works righteousness.’ In continuity with a deeply written Jewish worldview, Luke simply accepts the idea that, as sin contracts a debt, so credit accrues for performing good works—even to the point of meriting the resurrection” (304).
This is an outstanding exegetical treatise—one that raises profound theological questions. There is much here to engage.