Jesus' response to the Syrophoenician woman in Mark 7.27 is sometimes seen as sexist, racist, or abusive. The force of his response depends in part on the diminutive form κυναριον, which is often dismissed as a faded diminutive that lacks true force. But a statistical, semantic, and contextual analysis of the word indicates that it does, in fact, have diminutive force in Mark 7:27. Because of this, the pejorative force found in direct insults employing the word ‘dog’ is lacking in Jesus' response. In addition to failing to recognise the diminutive force of κυναριον, interpreters sometimes assume a social context in which Jews routinely referred to Gentiles as dogs. Finally, the analogy that Jesus makes is often read allegorically, assuming that ‘children’ and ‘dogs’ have direct counterparts in ‘Jews’ and ‘Gentiles’. These assumptions are found to be dubious. The point of Jesus' analogy is about the proper order of events: children eat before the puppies; Jews receive the benefits of his ministry before Gentiles. The Syrophoenician woman outwits Jesus by arguing that the puppies may eat simultaneously with the children. The interpretive upshot is that Jesus' saying is unlikely to be misogynistic or abusive, but simply asserts Jewish priority, a priority that admits of exceptions and change.

This article considers Mark's account of the cursing of the fig tree, read in conjunction with Jesus’ temple action. Having reviewed recent proposals on the literary shape of Mark 11.1–12.12, the article proposes a fresh reading of the section's structure. Triple introductions at 11.11, 11.15 and 11.27 are shown to match triple conclusions at 11.11, 11.19 and 12.12, these constituents framing interwoven units running from 11.11 to 12.12. The pattern of triple intercalation suggests that the cursing of the fig tree and Jesus’ temple action should be interpreted one in light of the other. The article then considers the intertextual relationship between Mark's narrative and the scriptural texts it evokes. The study uncovers previously neglected echoes vital for understanding the significance of Jesus’ cursing of the fig tree and temple action. The ‘casting out’ motif in Jeremiah 7–8, as dramatically portrayed in Jesus’ temple action, is set forth as heralding a ‘renewed exile’ for those who reject Jesus’ message, while the mirror motif of ‘ingathering’ in Isa 56.1–8, accentuated by the ‘withered tree’ imagery of 56.3, heralds new opportunity, with those who were previously outsiders to the temple made insiders in the eschatological house of prayer.

The Cornelius incident (Acts 10.1–11.18) has traditionally been read as a narrative marking the abolition or transgression of Jewish food and purity laws in early Christianity. Strong halakic statements made by Peter himself and by some of his opponents in fact seem to claim that halakic norms have been abrogated or violated. The article suggests however that these statements should not be read as accurate descriptions of facts, but instead as examples of ‘unreliable narration’: using this technique, a narrator deliberately introduces misjudgements and distorted perceptions of reality on the side of his main character in order to temporarily mislead his readers, only to unmask the deception in the later course of his narrative. It turns out that Peter's refusal of food offered in a vision as well as his halakic judgements on the ‘impurity of gentiles’ and the prohibition of table fellowship are misconceptions, based not on biblical pretexts or Jewish halakah, but purely on social convention. The narrative therefore does not describe the abolition or transgression of halakic boundaries, but invites the reader to make a proper distinction between halakic boundaries (which are to be kept) and social conventions (which in this case need to be transgressed).

Matthew's story of the Canaanite woman is an unusual and disturbing story in the Gospel tradition. Alongside other Gentile stories in Matthew's very Jewish Gospel, it signifies the opening of the doors on the Gentiles and their inclusion in the community of faith. The woman's language and the silence of Jesus speak powerfully to the contemporary context within Anglicanism. The liturgical language she employs teaches us how to speak in worship, while Jesus’ silence addresses our own experience of suffering and the seeming deafness of God. In the end, the narrative, for all its exegetical difficulties, is a powerful story of communion and the ultimately gracious response of God. As Anglicans we need to recover the depths of our own speech, grounded in Scripture and the Book of Common Prayer, as expressions of the grace of an inclusive God who teaches us how to speak and how to wait in faith.

Dale Allison is right to assert that ‘the twelve tribes in the Diaspora’ invokes Jewish ideas about the Ten Lost Tribes, but wrong to disassociate this thesis from the scholarly consensus that the pseudepigraphal author sees the church as Israel. For James, rather, the restored Israel consists of members of the Two Tribes of Judah and Benjamin (= Jewish Christians) plus members of the Ten Tribes. The latter, rather than being far away in some mythical, inaccessible realm, have been living since the Assyrian invasion in known Diaspora realms, where they lost their Israelite identity until it was reawakened by their recent encounter with the Gospel. Gentiles who respond positively to the Christian message, then, are for James the Ten Lost Tribes.

One facet of group identity is the construction and description of ‘the outsider’. A key dimension of this is the way outsiders are labelled. οἱ ἄπιστοι and τὰ ἔθνη, two outsider-designations used in Pauline texts, are examined here to determine what their use and function indicate about group identity. In these cases, we see the creation of a new designation and linguistic innovation in the way a designation is used, which includes the alteration of the referent of an established term. Defining and understanding ‘the outsider’, grappling with how to represent outsiders to ‘ourselves’ and negotiating across group boundaries were key undertakings that led to linguistic creativity, change and transformation. That such linguistic creativity can be seen as going on ‘at the boundary’, to create and define the boundaries of the movement, shows how important such boundaries were.

The occurrence and significance of the five women in Jesus' genealogy in the Gospel of Matthew has been a source of continuous scholarly debate. Taking a gender-sensitive approach, this contribution argues for looking at the five women as one group, viewing them as simultaneously accentuating the messianic line that Jesus is part of and vindicating his somewhat irregular birth, as well as substantiating the openness of Israel for Gentiles by adducing precedents from Israel's history.

Rev 11.1–2 refers to the destruction of the temple in 70 ce. The measuring of the temple area does not signify that it will be protected, as is commonly thought, but symbolises that it falls under God's judgment. The underlying idea is that the destruction of the temple at the hands of the Gentiles has been possible only because it was preceded by God's judgment, a notion also found in contemporary apocalyptic literature. John argues that God has given the Gentiles the authority to ‘trample the holy city’, including the temple, for a limited period of time.

Mission in Matthew's Gospel is not limited to the obvious missional texts – Matt 28.16–20 and Matthew 10. Verbal and thematic parallels between Matt 28.16–20 and Matt 24.1–31 invite an interpretation of these texts as mutually significant. Matthew 24 portrays the present for Matthew's community as darker and more vulnerable than is generally observed in Matt 28.16–20. This article explores both the similarities and contrasts between these Matthean passages and some other key intertexts, particularly Isa 42.1–4. Matthew's eschatological program is discerned, including the nature of Christ's ‘presence’ in Matthew 24 and the mission to the nations as an eschatological imperative.