Many cultures in the ancient world developed rules for governing guest-host relationships, something we might call hospitality. However, our term hospitality does not adequately reflect the intricacies of the ancient guest-host custom.

Malina writes:

[To show hospitality] is the process of “receiving” outsiders and changing them from strangers to guests. This value clearly serves as a means for attaining and preserving honor, a core social value. In the world of the Bible, hospitality is never about entertaining family and friends. Hospitality always is about dealing with strangers. To show hospitality to strangers is “to receive” them. ⁱⁱ

Malina goes on describe the three stages of receiving a guest. First, the stranger must be tested “as to how they might fit in and as to whether they will subscribe to community norms.” (Pilch and Malina) Assuming he cuts the mustard, his status of stranger changes to that of guest. At this point, the guest and host have mutual obligations. The guest must not dishonor his host through insult, hostility or rivalry. The guest must not overstep his bounds by making himself too “at home.” The guest must also accept what is offered, be it food, bedding, etc., rather than make demands. The host has similar responsibilities. He must protect the honor of his guest, which can lead to some extremely difficult situations. The host must not insult his guest and refrain from showing any hostility or rivalry. The host must attend to the basic needs of his guest such as food, water, shelter, etc. Finally, at the end of his stay, the guest changes status again to either a friend or an enemy. If a friend, the relationship can last for generations. If an enemy, the host would then seek satisfaction.

We can see, then, that both guest and host were expected to follow a certain protocol; they had mutual obligations. Yet anyone who failed to fulfill his role would be subject to more than the social sanctions of chafed mortals:

. . .some of the gods' expectations were codified in a moral order with rules of behavior for human beings. For example, the Greeks believed that the gods demanded hospitality for strangers and proper burial for family members and that the gods punished human arrogance and murderous violence. ⁱⁱⁱ

The guest-host relationship was overseen by a god—Zeus, in the case of the Greeks. For the Hebrews, it was Yahweh who said, “You shall neither mistreat a stranger nor oppress him.” As we shall see, hospitality is covered quite extensively in the Law of Moses. In fact, the relationship between God and Israel is likened to the guest-host relationship. God also expected Israel to be his agency in order to extend hospitality to strangers and foreigners, as even she was a guest on his land. Should Israel fail to fulfill her duties, it would bring dishonor to God. As the one slighted, God could rightfully seek retribution.

When Jesus sends out the twelve as messengers of a new covenant in the Gospel of Matthew, he expects Israel to live up to her covenant obligations. However, when she does not extend hospitality to the apostles, she dishonors the first covenant and in the process spurns the one who sent them. At the judgment, she is reminded of her obligations as a host and her failure to meet them. It is then revealed to Israel just whom she has rejected.

In this session, we will give an overview of hospitality in both Greek and Hebrew culture and then demonstrate the expectations of hospitality that underlie two Matthean judgment scenes. We will first establish the cultural and historical context for the judgment pictured in Matthew 25:31f, along with its parallel in Matthew 10, and then offer an interpretation that counters both futurism and myth.

Hospitality Among the Greeks

Given the fact that there were no rest areas, hotels or roadside diners in the modern sense, hospitality in the ancient world makes practical sense. Reciprocity worked. The practicality of this social custom was reinforced by the fear of a deity. For Greeks, Zeus was the patron god of guests and hospitality. One should be wary of doing wrong to a stranger or taking advantage of a host's hospitality lest he anger Zeus and suffer his wrath:

Zeus has a special concern for the relations which bind strangers to one another: guests, suppliants, and those bound by oaths—Zeus Xenios, Hikesios, and Horkios. Athena and Hera hate Troy because Paris spurned them; Zeus resolved to destroy the city because Paris violated the laws of hospitality. ^iv

You may have heard it asked of Helen: “Was this the face that launched at a thousand ships/And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?” ^v However, it was not the beauty of Helen that started this trouble. Homer tells us that violated hospitality led to that famous war.

With the help of Aphrodite, Paris had slighted Menelaus' honor by making off with his wife Helen and household goods. On the way back to Troy, winds forced Paris and his men to land in Egypt. When the king of Memphis learned of Paris' deeds, he chastised him and gave him till sundown to get out of Dodge. Herodotus records the king's words:

Were it not that I count it a matter of great moment not to slay any of those strangers who being driven from their course by winds have come to my land hitherto, I should have taken vengeance on thee on behalf of [Menelaus], seeing that thou, most base of men, having received from him hospitality, didst work against him a most impious deed. For thou didst go in to the wife of thine own host; and even this was not enough for thee, but thou didst stir her up with desire and hast gone away with her like a thief. ^vi

In the Iliad, the wronged host Menelaus seeks to reclaim his honor by laying siege to Troy and killing Paris. He is convinced that Zeus will bring Paris to justice. As he engages the cad in combat, Menelaus prays:

Grant me revenge, Lord Zeus, on godlike Paris, the man who wronged me in the beginning. Use my hand to bring him down so that our children's children will still shudder at the thought of wronging a host who has offered them friendship.^vii

Though Paris escapes this encounter and the battle rages on, Menelaus is resolute in his belief that Zeus will one day bring about the destruction of Troy due to Paris' inhospitable act. Menelaus splits the skull of poor Pisander, sets his heel upon his chest and taunts the Trojans saying:

That's how you'll be retreating from the Greek ships, you insolent Trojans, always spoiling for a fight! Not that you are amateurs in other forms of abusive and shameful behavior. Look at how you abused me, you dirty dogs, when you broke the laws of hospitality and defied the wrath of loud-thundering Zeus, protector of guests, who is going to bring Ilium tumbling down before long. ^viii

Contra Paris and Menelaus, the Iliad also contains an example of the ideal guest-host relationship in an exchange between two combatants, Diomedes and Glaucus. Their conversation reveals the value placed on such friendships, an ideology that Paris did not share. Martin summarizes:

Excellence as a moral value also carried with a strong notion of obligation and responsibility. The strongest of these duties was the requirement that ties of guest-host friendship (xenia) be respected no matter what the situation. In the Iliad, for example, the Greek Diomedes is preparing to battle an enemy warrior, Glaucus, when he discovers that Glaucus's grandfather once hosted his own grandfather as a guest while he was traveling abroad in Glaucus's land. This long-past act of hospitality had established ties of friendship and made the men “guest-host friends” of one another, a relationship that still remained valid for the two descendants and had to be respected even in the heat of battle. “Therefore,” says Diomedes in the story, “let us not use our spears against each other. . .There are many other Trojans and their allies for me to kill, and gods willing, and many other Greeks for you to slay if you can” (Iliad 6.226-229) ^ix

The issue was not so much the hand of a beautiful women, but hospitality—or better yet, the lack of it. Violated hospitality could start a war. Conversely, respect for generational friendships could cause fighting to cease. We will see that hospitality is likewise serious business in the Old Testament. The value placed on this custom could cause people to do some pretty strange things in an effort fulfill one's obligations and maintain one's honor.

Hospitality Before Moses

Some may question the use of comparative studies. However, such a scope can at times provide us with additional cultural knowledge that is not explicit in our biblical texts. Scripture is what is called high context literature. In high context literature, authors write for readers in their own culture. They can assume that the intended audience shares similar cultural knowledge. For example, a newspaper headline might read: “Giants Bash The Cubs, 14-2.” The copy will provide details about the game, but the sportswriter assumes that his audience is familiar with baseball; its rules, history, and tradition. The newspaper is high context. Someone from, say, Papua New Guinea may find it difficult to understand the sportswriters message. Without specific knowledge about the rules, history, and tradition of baseball, the uninitiated may even conclude that the United States is peopled by larger than average bear-clubbing humanoids. Other documents, such as Sports Illustrated or The Baseball Encyclopedia provide supplementary information to help one understand the custom of baseball within the broader culture.

In the same way, being acquainted with texts from the past and the values that they espouse can provide us with the appropriate background to understand some of the cultural assumptions made by biblical writers. For example, now that we have been introduced to the concept of hospitality, the Iliad can give us a more complete understanding of Genesis.

In Genesis 12:10, we find Abram making his way to Egypt due to a famine. From the get-go, we are told that Abram is a stranger or foreigner in that land. This information is crucial in that it sets up the scene that follows—at least for the original audience. Abram tells the Egyptians that Sarai is his sister. That was a bad move because Sarai is taken into Pharaoh's household. Abram himself is treated quite well and even showered with gifts. As far as the Egyptians are concerned, they are following protocol. As we know, at least according to Herodotus, the Egyptians had high regard for hospitality. God, on the other hand, is not so happy with this arrangement and strikes the household of Pharaoh with disease. Pharaoh did not intend to “work against [Abram] a most impious deed,” to borrow the phrase from Herodotus. So, Pharaoh complains to Abram, “Why did you say, 'She is my sister,' so that I took her to be my wife? Here is your wife! Take her and go!”

In chapter twenty, Abram, now Abraham, is again introduced as a stranger or foreigner. Again, he states that Sarah is his sister, and King Abimelech repeats Pharaoh's mistake by taking Sarah to be his own. However, God appears to the king in dream and says, “You are as good as dead because of the woman you have taken, for she is someone else's wife.” Or, in less P.C. Hebrew language, “she is owned by an owner.” (Genesis 20:3) The king confronts Abraham, “What have you done to us? What sin did I commit against you that would cause you to bring such great guilt on me and my kingdom? You have done things to me that should not be done!” (Genesis 20:9) God had prevented Abimelech from committing “adultery.” In fact, the text is clear: “Now Abimelech had not gone near her.” (Genesis 20:4) So, what is this guilt? Violated hospitality.

In both Genesis stories, the account is introduced by the fact that Abraham is a sojourner, that is, a stranger or foreigner. The reader is now setup to expect a certain protocol between Abraham and his hosts. According to his hosts, Abraham was guilty of “wronging a host who has offered [him] friendship,” the same transgression committed by Paris. Abraham's half-truth caused his hosts to violate the honor of their guest. That is, Pharaoh and Abimelech took a woman who was “owned by an owner.” Sarah, as a female in their culture, would be viewed as embedded in her head-male Abram. To violate her was to dishonor him. Since he was a guest, this would certainly violate the laws of hospitality and incur divine wrath. Accordingly, God struck the household of Pharaoh with disease and threatened Abimelech with death. The author assumes that his readers share a similar view of hospitality. But if we are unaware of such values, we can miss some of interplay in the story.

Once we know what to look for, there are numerous examples of the guest-host motif in the Old Testament. We'll consider one more example. Afterwards, we'll take a quick run through the various laws of hospitality, which will give us a better idea of what was expected once these customs became codified.

Protocol Revisited

Hosts are the fathers of households in their own villages (Abraham, Gen. 18; Lot, Gen. 19; Laban, Gen 24). The family head is the one to offer an invitation. The guest may refuse the initial request to “turn aside,” but the host will offer a second time. Once the guest has accepted, the host will provide water so that the stranger's feet may be washed. This signifies a change in status from stranger to guest. The host is now obligated to provide food and protection. Food need not be anything but the bare essentials, such as bread and water (e.g., Lot). Abraham goes above and beyond as he sacrifices a fatted calf. (Gen. 18:7-8) ^x

As mentioned above, strangers may refuse first invitation and accept second. This allows the potential guest to make his intentions known, that is, he does not intend to threaten or impose. The guest will then remain for the agreed upon period of time, which may be extended. The guest must respect his host by accepting what is offered and not coveting the host's goods. Upon leaving, the guest may bless the house if he is leaving as a “friend.” ^xi

Protocol In Action

In Genesis 18, Abraham bargains with God for the fate of Sodom, eventually settling on ten righteous men to spare the city. What follows in chapter 19 is a test of the city's hospitality. Two messengers are sent to Sodom. When the strangers arrive, Lot meets them in the town square and bids them, “Stay the night and wash your feet. Then you can be on your way early in the morning.” (Genesis 19:2) They rejected his invitation, saying that they would spend the night outdoors. After Lot entreated them again, the men relented and went to Lot's house where “[h]e prepared a feast for them, including bread baked without yeast, and they ate.” (Genesis 19:3) Lot has himself behaved like the consummate host. At least one righteous man had been found. Of course, we know the story takes a turn for the worse at this point. The men of city gather outside Lot's door and wish to rape his guests. How does Lot respond? Curiously, he offers up his virgin daughters in place of his guests while pleading, “Only don't do anything to these men, for they have come under the protection of my roof.” (Genesis 19:8)

Lot would give his daughters to be ravaged by a mob rather than transgress the custom of hospitality. Recall what Malina wrote: “[Hospitality] clearly serves as a means for attaining and preserving honor, a core social value.” It was Lot's sense of honor, his own honor and that of his guests, that caused him to bargain so. In Judges 19, the Levite's host tries to make a similar deal with unruly Benjaminites:

Here are my virgin daughter and my guest's concubine. I will send them out and you can abuse them and do to them whatever you like. But don't do such a disgraceful thing to this man! (Judges 19:24)

Although having “spoiled” daughters would be a great shame to Lot, it would be much worse for him if he failed to protect his male guests.^xii Many might think Lot was a cur for suggesting such a thing.^xiii But this story does illuminate the value placed on both honor and hospitality. How different we are in our culture.

Hospitality In The Law Of Moses

Later on, the custom of hospitality was given expression in Israel's law. Israel is often pictured as God's wife. Her judgments at times are described in terms of violated marriage contracts. Although it may not be apparent to us, guest-host friendship is another “interpersonal” analogy of Israel's relationship with God:

The land must not be sold without reclaim because the land belongs to me, for you are foreigners and residents with me. (Leviticus 25:23)

Israel is the guest, God is the host. As such, they have certain obligations to one another. Much like a human host, God is the protector of Israel. He also provides her with basic needs such as food, rain, etc. According to protocol, Israel is not to dishonor God, insult him, or provoke him to jealousy (rivalry with other gods). Throughout Leviticus 26 she is warned not to show hostility toward God. This is the language of guest-host friendship.

But Israel's responsibilities extend beyond her duties to God alone:

You shall have the same law for the stranger and for one from your own country; for I am the LORD your God. (Leviticus 24:22; see also Ex. 12:49)

There is more to this command than making outsiders conform to community norms. This was a law to protect strangers.

Also you shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the heart of a stranger, because you were strangers in the land of Egypt. (Exodus 23:9; see also Ex. 22:21)

Israel's treatment in Egypt is an example of how not to treat foreigners. God rightfully judged the people of Egypt for this violation—and he would do the same to Israel if she were to follow Egypt's example.

The following sums up all these commands:

For the LORD your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality nor takes a bribe. He administers justice for the fatherless and the widow, and loves the stranger, giving him food and clothing. Therefore love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. (Deuteronomy 10:17-19)

God is a God of hospitality and Israel was his agent. She was told that she “must love [the foreigner who resides with you] as yourself, because you were foreigners in the land of Egypt.” (Leviticus 19:33-34) In other words, she must mirror her relationship with God to those around her. What a striking picture of Israel's responsibilities. She also owed this care to her fellow countrymen:

If your brother becomes impoverished and is indebted to you, you must support him; he must live with you like a foreign resident. Do not take interest or profit from him, but you must fear your God and your brother must live with you. (Leviticus 25:35-36)

Yes, fear God. Failing to fulfill her role dishonored him. Accordingly, God could seek retribution for her inhospitable acts toward her own countrymen. Now we must ask: how would she respond to Jesus' disciples who were sent “to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matthew 10:6), impoverished, with nothing but the clothes on their backs? Would she open her doors and wash their feet? Or would the disciples shake the dust off their own feet? If so, her judgment would be worse than that of Sodom, the violator of hospitality par excellence.

Hospitality In The New Testament

As we have seen, hospitality was covered extensively in the Law of Moses. When doing comparative or historical investigations, one must avoid creating anachronisms. However, in this case we are on solid ground. To borrow a phrase from linguistics, a “diachronic” ^xiv study of this custom reveals that hospitality had a long history in both Hebrew and Greco-Roman cultures.

Guest-host friendships show up often in the New Testament. Luke makes mention of two hosts by name in the book of Acts. He informs us that Peter was a guest of Simon the tanner. (10:6, 18, 32) Later on, Paul and his companions stayed with Mnason of Cyprus, “a disciple from the earliest times.” (Acts 21:16) The epistles have their share of examples as well. The writer of Hebrews admonishes his readers not to neglect hospitality (13:2). Philemon is a letter to another host of Paul. (Phm 1:22) Paul points out the honor due his host at the close of the Roman epistle. (Romans 16:23) In his third epistle, John expresses his gratitude for the hospitality shown to the brothers and acknowledges the fact that such deeds are know to the church. (3 John 1:5-8) In short, guest-host friendships facilitated the spread of the Good News by providing for traveling evangelists. The church learned from Christ as he too used hospitality as a tool for evangelism.

Hospitality and Judgment in the Gospel of Matthew

Matthew chapter 10 gives us an overview of the apostles' mission to Israel, from beginning to end. Matthew includes material in this chapter that is scattered throughout Luke's gospel. But we're not concerned with these differences at the moment. The question is: why is Matthew's material arranged in such a manner? He has purpose in mind. As we'll see in the sections that follow, the author is developing themes introduced by the prophets and foreshadowed early on in his own gospel.

In Matthew's account of the commissioning the twelve, Jesus' instructions begin with the proclamation of the coming kingdom and continue throughout the entire chapter; including mention of persecution, judgment, and, ultimately, the advent of the kingdom at his coming. This discourse does not conclude until chapter 11 begins. At that point, there is no mention of the apostles leaving or returning. So, instead of an immediate sending out (v 5), as in the other gospels, Matthew gives us a protracted view of their entire mission from commissioning to judgment.

In addition to the scope and detail of Matthew's version, his account has another distinctive feature. Jesus' instructions are prefaced by:

Do not go to Gentile regions and do not enter any Samaritan town. Go instead to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. (Matthew 10:5-6)

Matthew sets up his account by narrowing the focus to Israel. Jesus continues:

Do not take gold, silver, or copper in your belts, no bag for the journey, or an extra tunic, or sandals or staff, for the worker deserves his provisions. Whenever you enter a town or village, find out who is worthy there and stay with them until you leave. (Matthew 10:9-11)

France comments on Mark's somewhat parallel account:

In Middle Eastern society the expectation of hospitality for visiting teachers is no surprise; they ought to be able to take if for granted. ^xv

The disciples may have taken hospitality for granted, but the commentator doesn't tell us why it would be assumed in this context. We can pare down “Middle Eastern society” to Israel. The apostles were instructed to go to “the house of Israel,” who, by Law, must extend hospitality. Duties include taking care of basic needs such as food and shelter. Jesus used this custom to his advantage: spend some time, share some food, and spread the Good News. As we will see, acknowledging the connection between the apostles' mission and Israel's laws of hospitality has an affect on how one interprets Matthew's eschatology.

Jesus informs his disciples that a warm welcome would not occur in every place. Not everyone would invite the apostles to turn aside, wash their feet and change their status from stranger to guest. If no Lots could be found in a town, the apostles would be left to shake the dust off their feet in protest against that inhospitable place.

And if anyone will not welcome you or listen to your message, shake the dust off your feet as you leave that house or that town. (Matthew 10:14)

Anyone who failed to open his door to such travelers would be guilty of breaking the Law, specifically its ordinances concerning hospitality. Hence, the reminder of violated hospitality from Israel's sacred writings:

I tell you the truth, it will be more bearable for the region of Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for that town! (Matthew 10:15) ^xvi

The wickedness of those who would refuse to receive Jesus' disciples exceeds that of Sodom and Gomorrah. Why? Israel knew better. She was God's ambassador. Her responsibilities were clearly defined by her law and her covenant relationship. Rejecting the apostles is a breech of the first covenant and a spurning of the second along with its kingdom proclamation. Actually, Israel's rejection of the apostles was ultimately a rejection of God:

Whoever receives you receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me. (Matthew 10:40)

Or, as Luke puts it in the negative:

The one who listens to you listens to me, and the one who rejects you rejects me, and the one who rejects me rejects the one who sent me. (Luke 10:16)

But to those who extend hospitality to Christ's disciples, a promise is made:

And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward. (Matthew 10:42)

They didn't have to provide a fattened calf like Abraham. The bare necessities were all that was required.

To summarize Matthew 10, Jesus commissioned his apostles to spread the word about the coming kingdom. They were sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. No provisions were allowed—they are to rely on Israel's laws of hospitality. Should Israel fail to care for the basic needs of the apostles, and thus inhibit the spread of the Gospel, the divinely commissioned messengers were to leave from that place and shake the dust from their feet. Nevertheless, the kingdom—and judgment—was coming anyway. The cities and towns which failed to receive the glad tidings, or worse yet, drove the apostles out, would be repaid for those inhospitable acts. Their fate would be worse than that of Sodom. The rejection of the messenger was revealed to be a rejection of the one who sent them, God. However, those who received the disciples would be rewarded for their hospitality.

Hospitality and Judgment in the Gospel of Matthew: Revisited

The above summary might sound familiar because it foreshadows another scene in Matthew's gospel, chapter 25:31f. This section forms the end of the Olivet Discourse and Jesus' pronouncement against the temple and that “generation of snakes.” In v. 31 we read:

When the Son of Man comes in his glory and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. (Matthew 25:31)

Matthew presents us with the coming of the king and his kingdom. These same themes were introduced in Matthew 10. The apostles were sent out with the charge to proclaim the imminent coming of the kingdom. But not only that, the apostles were assured that the advent of the kingdom, as well as the king, would transpire in their lifetime:

Whenever they persecute you in one place, flee to another. I tell you the truth, you will not finish going through all the towns of Israel before the Son of Man comes. (Matthew 10:23)

Unless one wishes to argue that there are, or were to be, two advents of the king and his kingdom, it seems reasonable to conclude that Matthew 10 and the Olivet Discourse of Matthew 24/25 are dealing with the same event. If so, at least in a preterist framework, we have a historical context. The remainder of chapter 25 supports this conclusion.

In Matthew 10, the disciples were sent to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Apparently, the disciples encountered a few goats along the way. In v. 32, the king separates the sheep from the goats. ^xvii He then explains why the righteous are to inherit the kingdom:

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me. (Matthew 25:35-36)

But the righteous are confused. They do not recall such deeds. They ask when did they see him and when did they show him hospitality. We know from Matthew 10 that the king had already sent his ambassadors to them, impoverished and with nothing but the clothes on their backs, to announce his coming. The king instructed his representatives saying, “Whoever receives you receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me.” (Matthew 10:40) So, the king answers the puzzled righteous whom he had placed on his right:

I tell you the truth, just as you did it for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it for me. (Matthew 25:40)

God had repeatedly admonished Israel to show love to strangers by providing food and clothing—“to love him as yourself.” (Deu 10:18-19; Lev 19:34) This why Jesus and his disciples could take hospitality for granted. The righteous honored the first covenant by receiving the apostles and gained an inheritance in the second. But there's still the matter of those goats.

The king recounts their inhospitable acts. They had failed to provide him with food, clothing or shelter. The unrighteous were also confused. But it is revealed that those who had refused to extend hospitality to the king's ambassador's ultimately rejected the king. In the Law, providing for a stranger honored God, failing to do so dishonored him. Jesus puts himself in a similar position when he says as king:

I tell you the truth, just as you did not do it for one of the least of these, you did not do it for me. (Matthew 25:45)

The king, as the one who was dishonored, could seek retribution for such inhospitable acts. So, we are informed in Matthew 25 that those goats would be judged accordingly. There are two verses in Matthew 25 that are of interest to us with regard to the judgment of the goats, vv. 41 and 46.

Let's make some initial observations before moving on. Matthew 25:31f is a pictorial metaphor of Israel's judgment in the first century, the same judgment we encountered in Matthew 10. That means Jesus did not actually sit on a throne, line people up, move them to one side or the other, and utter this dialog during the destruction of Jerusalem. We apply the same standard to vv. 41 and 46. “Eternal fire” is understood to be a metaphor for divine judgment, as it was in the Old Testament. If one wishes to argue for the literalness of this “eternal fire,” then one must use the same standard for the rest of the scene in Matthew 25 as well. That would be quite difficult in a preterist framework. Now, let's take a look at these verses:

Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire that has been prepared for the devil and his angels!' (Matthew 25:41)

And these will depart into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life. (Matthew 25:46)

These verses have been used in support of eternal conscious torment, that is, hell, in futurist eschatology. But instead of filtering these verses through tradition, let's keep in mind what we've covered up to this point. First, this judgment is the judgment “the house of Israel.” It is part of the Olivet Discourse and Jesus' pronouncement against the temple. Second, in both Matthew 10 and Matthew 25, Israel's laws of hospitality take center stage. Since the judgment involves Israel and the Law of Moses, Matthew's focus is covenantal. Third, there is nothing to indicate that the scene in Matthew 25 is a postmortem judgment. The author of John is quite convinced that “eternal life” is obtainable in this world. Is not the converse also true? Life and death are defined by covenant: it is the letter that kills, but the Spirit give life. ^xviii So, in Matthew 25 we are looking at the same this world, covenantal judgment mentioned in Matthew 10. Fourth, this judgment of Israel was to take place at the advent of the kingdom, which both Matthew 10 and Matthew 24/25 posit within the first century. Therefore, these verses do not speak to individual, biological death after the fact. Fifth, Matthew 25:41 and 46 have a parallel in Matthew 10 that sheds some light on the author's idea of “eternal punishment”:

Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Instead, fear the one who is able to destroy both soul and body in Gehenna. (Matthew 10:28, emphasis added)

What better commentator than the author himself? We can debate the meaning of destroy, but it is difficult to read the traditional notion of hell, that is eternal conscious torment, into that text—especially in light of the cultural and historical context. Some might point out that just because God is able to destroy both body and soul does not mean he will. However, Paul counters that when he states explicitly that “punishment” is “eternal destruction.” (2Th 1:8-9) Matthew himself may be countering similar notions from this period: “Let us not fear him who thinketh he kills; for a great struggle and peril of the soul awaits in eternal torment those who transgress the ordinance of God.” (IV Maccabees 13:15) Considering his doctrine of eternal torment, it should not surprise us that the author of IV Maccabees was “[a] student of Greek philosophy. . .” ^xix But if we have our timing out of whack, we might have the wrong idea about Matthew's view of punishment anyway. The judgment scene in Matthew 10 and Matthew 24/25 is very focused and very this world. Let's get down to the brass tacks.

The Hircine Judgment and Punishment: A Closer Look At The Historical Background

Matthew did not invent his themes of hospitality and judgment. The author introduces his source early in the gospel. John the Baptist steps on the scene in the third chapter. The coming of John the Baptist and his connection to the prophet Malachi are well known. John is the one who was to come in the spirit and power of Elijah (Matt. 17:11) before the great and terrible day of the Lord (Mal. 4:5). Much of the third chapter in Matthew's gospel is used to argue in favor of the preterist framework. For example:

But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming to his baptism, he said to them, “You offspring of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath?” (Matthew 3:7)

Preterists will often point out the imminence of this judgment by arguing for a more accurate translation of the Greek participle. Look too at the people involved—Israel's religious elite. John continues to castigate them. His use of “chaff” and “fire” echo the words of Malachi, the prophet who had announced John's mission:

Even now the ax is laid at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire. I baptize you with water, for repentance, but the one coming after me is more powerful than I am – I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clean out his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the storehouse, but the chaff he will burn up with inextinguishable fire. (Matthew 3:10-12; cf. Malachi 3-4)

The Baptist warned Israel of judgment on the horizon—one involving “inextinguishable fire.” (This, by the way, is a synonym for “eternal fire” in Matthew 25:41.) Jesus himself would separate the wheat from the chaff (or the sheep from the goats or wheat from tares) and burn them up with unquenchable fire. This is where the discussion usually ends in preterist circles. Then, it's off to the “time texts” to bolster the case. There is nothing wrong with this approach. However, Malachi had more to say, specifically about why judgment was coming:

“I will come to you in judgment. I will be quick to testify against those who practice divination, those who commit adultery, those who break promises, and those who exploit workers, widows, and orphans, who refuse to help the immigrant [i.e., stranger or foreigner] and in this way show they do not fear me,” says the LORD who rules over all. (Malachi 3:5, emphasis added)

Among Israel's catalog of covenant breakers are those who fail to extend hospitality, an act that dishonored God and violated Torah. Matthew develops the themes set forth by the prophet Malachi which are: God would come to Israel in judgment (Mal 3:1). The messenger of the covenant would be sent beforehand to “clear the way” (Mal 3:1, 4:5) Among Israel's crimes was the failure to extend hospitality (Mal 3:5). Evildoers would be burned up like chaff (4:1). From beginning to end, Matthew's gospel expands on the themes of Malachi. In other words, the introduction of Malachi in the third chapter of Matthew foreshadows the judgment scenes in chapters 10 and 25. But not only this, Matthew's use of Malachi provides us with both a historical and a covenantal context. For both authors, this judgment involves Israel and hospitality. It is covenantal. It is eschatological. It is clearly this world, not an otherworldly or end-of-time judgment.

Now that we have established the Old Testament source of Matthew's themes and his this world focus, we need to make a few points about Gehenna and “unquenchable fire” that counter otherworld tradition. Although, Gehenna is usually rendered as hell, the valley is actually on the south side of Jerusalem—and it had a long history prior to the New Testament period. It was in this valley that the covenant people of God practiced idolatry and sacrificed their children to false deities. Although it was known by a different name at the time, God's people had met their maker at Gehenna in the past. In Jeremiah 7, God says their dead bodies would be stacked high and deep in Gehenna as a result their crimes:

“They have also built places of worship in a place called Topheth in the Valley of Ben Hinnom [Gehenna] so that they can sacrifice their sons and daughters by fire. That is something I never commanded them to do! Indeed, it never even entered my mind to command such a thing! So, watch out!” says the LORD. “The time will soon come when people will no longer call those places Topheth or the Valley of Ben Hinnom. But they will call that valley the Valley of Slaughter and they will bury so many people in Topheth they will run out of room. Then the dead bodies of these people will be left on the ground for the birds and wild animals to eat. There will not be any survivors to scare them away. I will put an end to the sounds of joy and gladness, or the glad celebration of brides and grooms throughout the towns of Judah and the streets of Jerusalem. [cf. Rev 18:23] For the whole land will become a desolate wasteland.” (Jeremiah 7:31-34)

Over time, the valley came to signify reproach, shame, defilement and judgment. Gehenna is mentioned about a dozen times in the New Testament. Here is an interesting fact: no Gentile is ever threatened with punishment in Gehenna. This place is only mentioned within earshot of Judeans—God's covenant people. In light of the cultural and historical background of Matthew 10 and the Olivet Discourse, this is no surprise. In biblical literature, both OT and NT, Gehenna signified the divine judgment of Israel, not the mythological underworld and eternal conscious torment that have been passed down to us by the traditions of futurist eschatology. Simply put, Gehenna is not hell.

Once again, at the close of that first century generation, Israel would meet her maker in this valley. Jesus chastises the leaders of his day saying, “You snakes, you offspring of vipers! How will you escape the judgment of Gehenna?” (Matthew 23:23, my trans.) Jesus then tells his antagonists, who belong to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” that he is sending them “prophets and wise men.” (Do you think the “prophets and wise men” were to rely on hospitality?) His messengers would be persecuted or even killed, but nevertheless “the judgment of Gehenna” would come in that generation. (Matt. 23:38) This is the same scenario presented in both Matthew 10 and 25. Furthermore, Jesus' use of Gehenna and the accusation of questionable birth parallels the “inextinguishable fire” and “viper” parentage of Matthew 3.

“Inextinguishable fire” and similar terminology signify divine judgment, not the torment of disembodied souls. Is it not inconsistent to search out the Old Testament background of de-creation language (e.g., sun and moon darkening, stars falling, etc.) contained in the Olivet Discourse and yet fail to apply the same standard to “unquenchable fire” and like terminology? We believe it is—especially since Jerusalem had suffered such a conflagration before at the hands of the Assyrians:

“Now I will rise up,” says the LORD. “Now I will exalt myself; now I will magnify myself. You conceive straw, you give birth to chaff; your breath is a fire that destroys you. The nations will be burned to ashes; like thorn bushes that have been cut down, they will be set on fire. You who are far away, listen to what I have done! You who are close by, recognize my strength!” Sinners are afraid in Zion; panic grips the godless. They say, 'Who among us can coexist with destructive fire? Who among us can coexist with unquenchable fire?' (Isaiah 33:10-14; See also Isaiah 29:6, 34:9-10; Rev 19:3)

“God is a consuming fire” (Deu. 4:24) and both “consuming” and “unquenchable” fire imagery accompany his judgment. Based on the Old Testament use of such language, it is evident that the point is not the duration of the fire but who is executing the judgment. Perpetual burning and smoking are hyperbole—check with Google maps. These passages in Jeremiah and Isaiah refer to this world judgments, not torment in Sheol.

“Unquenchable fire” and Gehenna signify divine judgment—only Yahweh had this kind of power in the Old Testament. The New Testament is consistent with this usage. Jesus himself warns Israel about another date with Gehenna and “unquenchable fire.” ^xx In doing so, Jesus claims the power of Yahweh for himself. Wow! The divinity of Jesus was revealed by his ability to execute divine judgment “in the glory of his father.” What we see in Matthew 25 is that Christ would make good on Malachi's prophecy. He came to Israel in judgment as avenger of violated hospitality, among other things, and burned her up with unquenchable fire. At that time, it was clear to Israel just whom she had spurned: “. . .the one who rejects you rejects me, and the one who rejects me rejects the one who sent me.” (Luke 10:16)

In summary, Malachi forms the Old Testament background of Matthew's eschatological judgment scene. Both authors are concerned with “the house of Israel.” The charges against her are based in the Law of Moses, specifically the laws of hospitality. The judgment is covenantal and eschatological. Matthew borrowed the “unquenchable fire” terminology from Malachi and other prophets and applied it to Israel's first century judgment. The Old Testament usage of such language refers to this world judgments, not the torment of departed souls. Matthew is consistent with this usage. There is nothing to suggest that Matthew's judgment takes place beyond the grave. Likewise, Gehenna, mistranslated hell, has its roots in the Hebrew Bible and not Homer. In the past, God had judged his covenant people in this valley. In the spirit of Jeremiah, Jesus too announces the “judgment of Gehenna” (Matt. 23:23) on God's covenant people of the first century. Again, Matthew is consistent with the Hebrew prophets. Like Yahweh in the Old Testament, Christ would bring Israel to judgment in the valley of Gehenna and burn her up with unquenchable fire that he might say, “They will know that I am the LORD; my threats to bring this catastrophe on them were not empty.” (Ezekiel 6:10)

To read hell mythology into Matthew 25:41 or 46 one must ignore the covenant context that both Malachi and Matthew have clearly established. But there is no hint of individual eschatology based on biological death. The judgment the biblical writers present is a this world judgment. To retain the traditional view of hell, one must also redefine the biblical use of judgment language like “unquenchable fire.” But the terminology in the Hebrew scriptures clearly refers to God's divine judgment and not the torment of disembodied souls. Additionally, any view that fails to account for the value of hospitality in Israel's Law and the significant place it holds in Matthew's judgment scene is incomplete at best. Of course, if one concedes that point, it becomes clear that Matthew is focused on the covenantal aspect of judgment; not an end-of-time, hellfire, eternal conscious torment judgment that we have been taught by futurist eschatology. More to the point: preterism undermines both eternal conscious torment and hell mythology.

Conclusion

We have surveyed the value place on hospitality in both Greek and Hebrew writings. We have seen that hospitality could start a war, stop fighting, cause kings to relinquish their would be wives and even drive a man to sacrifice his daughters to protect the honor of himself and his guests. Hospitality was that influential. These customs were codified by Moses and enforced by God. So, fear God, that is honor him, and love the stranger as yourself. These core values of honor and hospitality underlie the mission of the twelve and the judgment that would follow them. Matthew develops themes contained in Malachi 3 and 4. Accordingly, Matthew focuses on the covenantal aspect of judgment. Jesus sent his apostles to the “to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matthew 10:5-6) expecting them to receive food, clothing and shelter. During their stay, the apostles were to announce the coming of the kingdom. However, if a household or town was inhospitable, they were to leave shaking the dust from their feet in protest. Nevertheless, judgment was coming. Those cities would have to answer for their deeds within a generation's time. At that point, it would be revealed just whom they had rejected. Following Malachi's lead, Matthew paints a pictorial metaphor of the judgment to come upon Israel in the first century in his twenty-fifth chapter—the same this world judgment presented in Matthew 10. The author's charges and language are drawn from the Old Testament, not the poets or philosophers of Grecian fame. This is the cultural, historical and covenantal context of Matthew's judgment, a counter to both futurist eschatology and its hell mythology.

Notes