Commentaries stand on the shoulders of previous commentaries or, to shift the metaphor only slightly, they stand among other commentaries. The Gospels are just inside the century mark of being 2,000 years old and, while commentaries didn’t immediately show up in ancient bookshops, the trail of commentaries on each of the Gospels goes back 1,700 years and more. The Gospel of Luke was not the favorite of the Fathers—Matthew and John got the nods—but we have homilies from Origen (253), Titus of Bostra (378), and Ambrose of Milan (397); Augustine’s Harmony refers to Luke (430). After Augustine came Cyril of Alexandria (444), Philoxenus of Mabbug (519), and the Venerable Bede (735). The medievals, such as Bonaventure (1274), had an interest in Luke, as did the Reformers (Luther, 1546; Calvin, 1555). I will avoid a complete listing and jump, as we often do in the Protestant world, to modern scholarship: I think of T. Zahn (1913), Erich Klostermann (1919), B.S. Easton (1926), and J.M. Creed (1930). But it was in the 1970s and ’80s when Luke particularly flourished as a text for commentators, and thus one thinks of Heniz Schürmann (1969), F. W. Danker (1972), I. H. Marshall (1978), J. A. Fitzmyer (1981), L. Sabourin (1985), F. Bovon (1989), and J. Nolland (1989). In the ’90s some hefty volumes emerged, and Darrell Bock (1994) and J. B. Green (1997) remain among my favorites.
Sorting through what others have said leaves the commentator weary, wondering if the task can be done by one person and in manageable length, but the fresh commentary both sums up briefly what has gone before and takes us into new territory. Frequently enough it is a methodological approach that provides fresh light, as Howard Marshall subjected tradition criticism to withering scrutiny and Darrell Bock examined Luke through the lens of a biblical theology, while Joel Green read Luke through the lens of a literary approach alongside a judicious use of social-scientific discoveries about the ancient world.
Preachers need commentaries the most: their daily labor in the Bible and the need to say something faithful and insightful every Sunday drives them to those who can help them. The freshest commentary often provides the most nutrients. We can express our gratitude to scholars who have spent a decade or more in research in Luke and then put the results down on paper so others could reap the benefits of their labor.
But what happens when a pastor puts his hand to a commentary? Philip Graham Ryken completed this two-volume commentary on Luke shortly before he became president of Wheaton College, while still serving as pastor of Tenth Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia. The strength of this commentary is that Ryken reads Luke for himself, in light both of his Reformed theology and of his pastoral task, relying very little upon the scholarship of others. (That, too, is its weakness.)
Departing from what has become for commentary writers the ever more daunting tradition of writing a comprehensive introduction, Ryken plunges right into the Gospel: Luke begins at 1:1 and so does Ryken. His commentary is lucid, intelligent, theologically informed, and fair to the text in light of the pastoral task. His eyes are always on his congregation, and so whether he calls us to respond to the Word by taking God at his word; or by reading the Beatitudes as a challenge (are we blessed by God?); or by accepting the challenge to follow Jesus; or by attending to the question “Who is the person that needs your help?” in the famous Good Samaritan parable—whatever the local emphasis, to the very end of the commentary, Ryken’s intent is to apply the whole text and apply the text wholly.
The pastor can’t afford simply to be a historian; theology comes into play, and Ryken knows when to bring it up. Many have said Mary could not have uttered the Magnificat (Luke 1:49-55), for she was too young. Ryken responds: “This objection overlooks the doctrine of inspiration, which teaches that Mary’s words came from God the Holy Spirit.” Well, I was nurtured in a school that might have said “prophecy” here and would have reserved “inspiration” for what Luke wrote, but Ryken soon makes amends: “If we wonder how she was able to write such a famous poem, the answer is simple: Mary knew her Bible!” I don’t know if this undoes his inspiration comment, but it does force the reader to think about the magnificent memories of ancient Jews who heard the Bible’s stories over and over and over in home and synagogue and so would have been able to create a pastiche-like poem of one’s favorite YHWH-promises.
His reading of the Friend at Midnight, Luke 11:5-8, is an excellent example of theological care. He avoids the special pleading of Kenneth Bailey’s appeal to the word anaideia as a one-of-a-kind meaning of “desire to avoid shame” and stands with solid scholarship in saying it means “shamelessness.” Then he weaves in and out of the potential problems and genuine insights that this parable offers about God: God does not need to be badgered; God does not respond to keep us from badgering. Ryken sees the logic: God, in fact, is not much like this man in bed at all; God is so much better!
Entitling the Pharisee and Tax Collector parable “The Sinner’s Prayer” (Luke 18:9-14) is perhaps a tip-off. Ryken sketches the Pharisee over against the Tax Collector through the lens of personal salvation and then in “be merciful” finds atonement theology, even substitutionary atonement with expiation and propitiation and justification at work: “This is what the tax collector was praying.” I doubt this was at work in the imagined Tax Collector (it is a parable, after all); Ryken is stretching here to find in the one Gospel that has comparatively little atonement theology an atonement theology that is far more crisp and clear than the text itself. But as I said, this overly theological approach is rare. I find his discussion of atonement theology in, say, Luke 23:44-49, to name but one example, insightful and solid, though probably more Reformed than many who will use this commentary.
The strength of this commentary, as I’ve said, is also its weakness: Ryken reads Luke for himself, but he has ignored too much valuable work by others. The methods of scholars and the insights of scholarship just don’t appear enough, and their absence weakens this commentary. I don’t know how one can write about the Beatitudes (Matthew’s list has several more); or the Lord’s Prayer (where Ryken says we need not be troubled by the differences, for the prayers are basically the same, and anyway Jesus taught the prayer more than one way [“clearly”], and the Lukan prayer is later in the ministry, hence Jesus gave a shorter version to remind the disciples of his earlier version, and the two versions show us we need not repeat only the one [Matthean] version); or the Centurion’s servant without some discussion of Q or at least the Lukan parallels with substantial discussion of the differences, their redactional pedigree, and the light source and redaction critics have thrown on Luke’s Gospel. I understand the pastoral task, but this is a commentary, and pastors (and students) will have questions that emerge from careful reading of the Bible itself that avoidance can’t resolve.
The “theology” of Luke has been a hotbox for nearly six decades now, and this commentary doesn’t sufficiently engage with scholarship on the salvation-historical plan (ever since H. Conzelmann’s famous study), the potency of absorbing and fulfilling Old Testament expectations—in light of how Judaism read Scripture, as well as the special attention Luke gives to the marginalized—and what that might say about kingdom theology and Christian praxis. In other words, there are central themes that have been examined in detail in Lukan scholarship, and Ryken does not give these themes a clear theological profile in light of Luke’s special emphases. For example, I. H. Marshall showed how holistic salvation is in Luke’s theology, yet Ryken too often wants to refocus to personal soteriology. A more robust view of political and economic salvation could be exploited for Christian living today. Nor is there enough attention to the literary parallels between Luke and Acts or the numerous and insightful studies on the purpose of Luke-Acts. These themes are not only central to Lukan scholarship today but also can be dynamically reshaped for preaching. Pastors and Bible students need someone who knows the text well, as Ryken clearly does, to weigh in on these topics in summary explanations and theological evaluation.
Pastors go to commentaries not only to prepare sermons but also to find help in interacting with other commentaries. They won’t find that here, for there is almost no interaction with our generation’s most significant commentators. Had he chosen to interact with these, Ryken would have done pastors even more good than this excellent exposition of Luke provides.
Scot McKnight is Karl A. Olsson Professor in Religious Studies at North Park University. His commentary on James (NICNT) was published earlier this year by Eerdmans.
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