Why didn’t Jesus just come out and say it: God is going to punish you with violent destruction?

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If Jesus believed that the coming destruction of Jerusalem and the temple, with massive loss of life, would be an act of deliberate divine punishment, why didn’t he say so explicitly? Why is it that so many of the sayings about judgment that I listed from Luke’s Gospel come in the form of parables or rather cryptic allusions? Why is there no direct statement to the effect that the God who sent Jesus to Israel would violently punish his people within a generation.

When Jeremiah complained that the people of Judah had made the temple a “den of robbers”, he went on to make it clear that YHWH would “do to the house that is called by my name, and in which you trust, and to the place that I gave to you and to your fathers, as I did to Shiloh. And I will cast you out of my sight” (Jer. 7:14–15). Why didn’t Jesus do the same? Spell it out. Why didn’t he go on to say that God would do to Herod’s temple what he did to Solomon’s temple and the sanctuary at Shiloh before that? Then we would know what he meant.

If you’re getting weary of the subject, I apologise. But I think it’s a good question, and one that perhaps sheds a broader light on how Jesus addressed Israel. 

Part of the answer is likely to be that when a Gospel writer puts into the mouth of a devout Jewish speaker a few words from an Old Testament text, it was on the understanding that devout Jewish or Jewish-Christian hearers would automatically recall the whole narrative or psalm or oracle. They knew the context. There was no reason to quote the continuation of the passage in Jeremiah. Most people would immediately have understood that if a prophet claimed that the temple has been made a “den of robbers”, he meant that it would soon be destroyed as an act of punishment for the sins of Judah/Judea.

To me that seems a very reasonable literary-historical assumption to make, but a more literally-minded reader, who is troubled by the level of divine violence in the Old Testament, can always object that Jesus didn’t actually say it.

The fact remains that Jesus seems unwilling to say unequivocally that YHWH was about to punish his people by means of Roman invasion and war. Can we explain this reticence? I think we can.

There are a few other considerations that may have a bearing. Perhaps some of the judgment sayings would have been heard as “divine passives”: the unrepentant cities of Galilee would be “brought down to Hades”, for example, with reference to the death and destruction that they would suffer in the course of the war (Matt. 11:23; Lk. 10:15). A couple of statements appear to make Jesus the author of a devastating judgment: he will burn the chaff with unquenchable fire (Matt. 3:12); he has not come to bring peace to the land of Israel, but a sword (Matt. 10:34; cf. Rev. 6:4). But the fact remains that Jesus seems unwilling to say unequivocally that YHWH was about to punish his people by means of Roman invasion and war. Can we explain this reticence? I think we can.

A good proportion of the violent judgment texts are parables or symbolic actions or Old Testament allusions: a storm will destroy a house (Matt. 7:26-27; Lk. 6:49); in the judgment at the end of the age the weeds will be separated from the wheat and “burned with fire”, the bad fish will be separated from the good and thrown away, thrown into a “fiery furnace” (Matt. 13:24-30, 37-43, 47-50); the unrighteous will be thrown into the valley of the Son of Hinnom, into the “unquenchable fire” (Mk. 9:43); a fruitless fig tree will be cut down (Lk. 13:8-9); a nobleman’s enemies, who do not want him to reign over them, will be slaughtered (Lk. 19:27); traders are driven from the temple (Matt. 21:12; Jn. 2:14-16); the wicked tenants of the vineyard will be destroyed (Matt. 21:33-44; Lk. 20:15); the rejected stone will crush the people on whom it falls (Lk. 20:17-18); the barren fig tree is made to wither (Matt. 21:19); and the angry king destroys the city of the guests who fail to come to the wedding of his Son (Matt. 22:7).

When Jesus is asked by the disciples why he speaks to the people in parables, he quotes the words that Isaiah was instructed to say to the rebellious house of Israel:

You will indeed hear but never understand, and you will indeed see but never perceive.” For this people’s heart has grown dull, and with their ears they can barely hear, and their eyes they have closed, lest they should see with their eyes and hear with their ears and understand with their heart and turn, and I would heal them. (Matt. 13:14–15; cf. Is. 6:9-10)

Isaiah asks “how long?”, and God’s response is:

Until cities lie waste without inhabitant, and houses without people, and the land is a desolate waste, and the LORD removes people far away, and the forsaken places are many in the midst of the land. (Is. 6:11–12)

If we assume that the context in Isaiah is relevant, the point would be that Jesus speaks in parables precisely to signal to Israel that they are a stubborn, disobedient, hard-of-hearing people, and that before long God will judge and punish them by destroying Jerusalem and scattering surviving Jews among the nations. But even if we discount the context, it still appears that there is something intentionally elusive and misleading about Jesus’ characteristic manner of teaching, which I think would account for the lack of categorical statements about the coming violent judgment.

Matthew later explains the fact that Jesus said nothing to the crowds “without a parable” by quoting Psalm 78:2:

This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet: “I will open my mouth in parables; I will utter what has been hidden since the foundation of the world.” (Matt. 13:35)

What the psalmist utters to the coming generation is the story of how God established his people, but they continually sinned against him, and “he was full of wrath; a fire was kindled against Jacob; his anger rose against Israel”: (Ps. 78:21).

So Jesus’ habitual use of parables and parabolic actions was in itself a sign to Israel that they were not hearing what God had to say to them, or were not understanding what they heard, and that they would suffer a devastating judgment as a consequence.

But it is also the prophetic speaking and acting in parables that removes the explicit reference to God as the author of the coming catastrophe in Jesus’ pronouncements of judgment. Instead we have the passive statements, the angels sorting the good from the bad and burning the bad, the farmer who cuts down a fig tree, the nobleman who slaughters his enemies, the vineyard owner who destroys the rebellious tenants, the king who destroys a city—and the people are left to draw their own conclusions. This is exactly Jesus’ rhetorical method.

The disciples, in contrast, are those to whom “it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 13:11). What they are given, in the end, is a detailed, realistic, more or less plausible narrative about the events that would lead up to the siege of Jerusalem, the destruction of the temple, and the end of the age (Matt. 24:3-28; Mk. 13:3-23; Lk. 21:5-24). This is the historical counterpart to the parables of judgment that Jesus had spoken to Israel, though it is here, significantly, that we get perhaps the sharpest evaluation of the war in theological terms, when Jesus describes the period as “days of vengeance (hēmerai ekdikēseōs), to fulfil all that is written” (Lk. 21:22). Anything that is done as fulfilment of the scriptures must be an act of God.

Hosea 9:7 LXX makes clear how what was written would be fulfilled: “The days of punishment (hai hēmerai tēs ekdikēseōs) have come; the days of your recompense have come, and Israel will be afflicted as the deranged prophet, as the spirit–crazed person.” God will set fire to the cities of Judah; he “will remember their iniquity; he will punish their sins”; he will drive them from his house; they will become wanderers among the nations (Hos. 8:14; 9:9, 15, 17; cf. Deut. 32:35 LXX).

The realistic narrative about the war against Rome also grounds another set of parables, spoken not to the people or to the leadership of Israel but to the disciples who are called to stay faithful to their mission through to the end of this period of tribulation (Mk. 13:13), when they will finally be vindicated and rewarded: when the bridegroom comes, the foolish virgins will be shut out, when the master of the house returns his servants will be rewarded or punished (Matt. 24:45-25:30; Lk. 19:11-27).

The hermeneutical point to stress is that the prophetic-apocalyptic language cannot be dissociated from the immediate historical experience of Israel and of the followers of Jesus. This is what the narrative-historical method is all about: biblical “theological” material is almost always a way of speaking about the concrete historical experience of God’s people.

peter wilkinson | Tue, 05/08/2018 - 15:38 | Permalink

So Jesus’ habitual use of parables and parabolic actions was in itself a sign to Israel that they were not hearing what God had to say to them, or were not understanding what they heard, and that they would suffer a devastating judgment as a consequence

But this is not what Psalm 78:2 is saying. In v.4, the Psalmist says “We will not hide them (things hidden from of old) from their children; we will tell the next generation” etc. 

The Psalm is also not entirely about God’s anger. That was in the past, during the desert wanderings, in this case. The Psalmist’s present is during the return from exile in a time of God’s favour (vs.65-69), which recalled the time of David (vs.69-72).

The Hebrew mashon does not seem to be an exact equivalent of the Greek parabolē, but the Aramaic equivalent seems to have a similar broad range of meaning (see below).

I also disagree that “Jesus’ habitual use of parables and parabolic actions was in itself a sign to Israel that they were not hearing what God had to say to them”. According to Fee and Stuart How to read the Bible for all its worth , Jesus fully intended his meaning to be known, as I said in a comment on your original post on the parables here

I don’t think the elusiveness of Jesus’ meaning in the parables, as you put it, transfers well to the elusive attribution of divine or messianic agency to the forthcoming destruction of Jerusalem. Neither can it really be said that such elusiveness arises necessarily from particularly literal readings. It’s partly the avoidance of “literal” attribution of direct punishment of Israel in the NT by an angry, violent God as perceived in the OT which is striking to me. 

Finally, you speak of “perhaps the sharpest evaluation of the war in theological terms, when Jesus describes the period as “days of vengeance (hēmerai ekdikēseōs), to fulfil all that is written” (Lk. 21:22)” in Matt. 24:3-28; Mk. 13:3-23; Lk. 21:5-24. I’m not with you here. There is cross reference to Daniel in Matthew and Mark, but otherwise it’s a straightforward descriptive warning of what will happen in realistic terms. There is also Deuteronomy 32:35 ““days of vengeance (hēmerai ekdikēseōs)”. But what does the phrase mean in context? In Deuteronomy, the phrase comes as a promise of retribution not on Israel, but her idolatrous pagan oppressors, who will be repaid in the days or vengeance — “hēmerai ekdikēseōs” .

@peter wilkinson:

You’re welcome to disagree with me, Peter. That seems to be your role in life. :)

@peter wilkinson:

In Deuteronomy, the phrase comes as a promise of retribution not on Israel, but her idolatrous pagan oppressors, who will be repaid in the days or vengeance…

It wasn’t the best example, I admit. Yes, Deut. 32:35 probably refers to Israel’s enemies, but it’s still evident that divine ekdikēsis entailed violence. But I’ve substituted Hosea 9:7, which makes the point much more effectively.

We do see first-century Jews had a more developed eschatology than what we find in the Old Testament. (The role of the Satan and demons had also evolved.) However, I see no evidence to support the belief that Jesus no longer believed in divine retribution. I know Progressives like to paint Jesus as far more enlightened than all of the prophets who preceded him (love vs. wrath), but I see this as historical revisionism.

First-century Jews had to account for the fact that they had never been able to reestablish themselves after rebuilding Jerusalem. They either had to accept that Zeus/Jupiter/Roman army was more powerful than Yahweh, or believe Yahweh had removed his hand of protection to punish his people because he was displeased with them. There was no third choice.


Or they just got on with life, hoping for the best, while some believed that YHWH would act, either through zealous Torah observance, or violence, or both.

This goes on and on, doesn’t it? However, a serious consideration of God’s violence is new territory for me, so I’m just feeling my way. Am I a ‘Progressive’? I don’t really know what that means. It’s either a compliment or a term of abuse, depending which side you’re on.

It’s new territory, but is opening the scriptures up in ways I would never have imagined. Also, it’s a subject which cannot simply be put on the shelf with some simplistic explanations, or simply be put down to the beliefs of ancient cultures and of no relevance to us today, or simply accepted lock stock and barrel without some serious questions being asked.

So I am struck by the absence of clear, unambiguous, explicit statements in the NT of a forthcoming ‘judgment’ on Jerusalem which are directly connected with God’s explicit, unambiguous imposition of such an event as His judicial punishment. It’s everywhere in the first OT destruction of Jerusalem in the prophets. Why not in the NT?

The NT does not provide a clear unambiguous statement of a non violent God either, and the whole of the NT would also have to be taken into consideration in looking at the subject. Nevertheless, in the NT as well as in the OT, I wonder if there needs to be a fresh look at the issue, and what phrases like “the wrath of God”, or more frequently in the NT “the wrath”, actually mean.

@peter wilkinson:

Hi Peter, I think you’re asking great questions, and I think we need to study intertestamental writings to determine the degree of continuity Jesus’ beliefs would have had with the prophets who preceded him.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but I don’t think the Progressive view is all bad. I suppose there really isn’t a Progressive view since there is a spectrum of beliefs, but it seems to me that here in the US, most who identify as Progressive would say the following:

  • Prior to Jesus, people (including prophets) often attributed words and deeds to God that didn’t actually originate with God.
  • This means the Old Testament provides us with a picture of Yahweh that is both accurate and inaccurate.
  • When Jesus (God in the flesh) came on the scene, people could finally discern the truth about God’s nature by comparing Old Testament accounts to Jesus’ words and deeds.
  • We can safely say that any words or deeds associated with Yahweh that Jesus probably would not have said or done were probably not said or done by Yahweh.

This sort of hermeneutic would be legitimate it Jesus really were God in the flesh, but since I don’t believe he was, I don’t believe it is.


Reading through a few past posts by Andrew related to divine violence and the “angry” God and Jesus in a different application for a conversation elsewhere in social media, and I stumbled upon this post. While I agree, Peter, that God was understood in ancient cultural contexts through their filters which may not always accurately convey God, nevertheless we must be careful not to impose ideological or theological preferences that cause us such selectivity in biblical texts and their interpretation that we do violence to the historical-narrative at the heart of the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament. I think you do this here with the dichotomy between Jesus’ teaching and the Hebrew Bible on God’s nature. The differences aren’t as stark as many attempt to make it out to be in the interests of a loving vs. judgmental God. In my observation our theologies and biblical interpretation is usually post-hoc: that is, we bring our personal ideological leanings to the text and then select those verses and interpretations that support it. Conservatives as well as progressives do this. I find a historical-narrative approach a helpful corrective to this bias, even if we may not always like the results. Thanks for listening.

Samuel Conner | Sun, 09/06/2020 - 15:55 | Permalink

My apologies for commenting so untimely; just noticed this post in the course of reading the more recent “always forgive” post.

I may have the chronology wrong, but I have the impression that the cryptic public teaching, at least in Matthew, seems to be presented as something that became more prominent toward the end of the public ministry. Perhaps it is associated with development in Jesus’ own thinking in terms of the necessity of his own death.

Granting the plain reading that Jesus seems to have reckoned it necessary that he die at the hands of the Romans, at Jerusalem, at  Passover, perhaps there is a “risk management” element at work (this is is not incompatible with and does not exclude the proposal that the cryptic teaching echoed OT judgment themes). Too plain warnings of disaster, and too direct an assertion of Divine intention in the disaster, might invite premature capture and execution by his adversaries among the religious authorities, or perhaps at the hands of militant nationalist “zealots”, offended by the implications of his warnings. 

I’ve been impressed by NT Wright’s characterization (as I recall it, and maybe my recollections are colored by my own theorizing), in Jesus and the Victory of God, of the difficulties Jesus faced in his public ministry. Josephus, in his Antiquities, asserts that John the Baptist was imprisoned and executed by Herod on account of Herod’s fear of John’s mass following (a concern similar to that attributed to the Jerusalem authorities in Jn 11), a concern which is not noticed, or perhaps is intentionally elided, in the Synoptics.

Jesus seems to have intentionally kept his public audience “in suspense” in terms of his identity as Messiah and his intentions. IIRC, Wright sees this as a deliberate policy to avoid provoking reaction from the powerful while recruiting a movement that projected its own hopes onto him (and it seems plain to me that this projection was happening even in the “inner circle”, in spite of Jesus’ private attempts to clarify his closest associates’ thinking). 

Perhaps the public ambiguity of the parables was necessary to pursue this policy.