​The Sermon on the Mount is a central part of the teachings of Jesus that we all know – it  demonstrates the essential nature of the Christian way of life as much as any part of Scripture. Many of us have memorized parts of the sermon as found in Matthew’s Gospel (chapters 5-7), but how much time have we spent thinking about the setting of the sermon as opposed to the sermon itself?
 
We tend to take for granted that the sermon was given on a mountain because we know that Jesus frequently climbed mountains (Luke 6:12, John 6:15, etc.) – though he usually did this to get away from people, to be alone and to pray.   In this case we are told specifically that he went up on a mountain with his disciples following him.

The New International Version tells us “Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them” (Matthew 5:1-2).  This gives the impression that Jesus simply went up on the side of a mountain – the lower slopes.  But “side” is not in the original Greek (or in most translations), and the Greek anebē  eis to oros  “he went up into a mountain” conveys the sense that he ascended  on to the mountain – certainly well up toward, or to, its summit.
 
Now this wording is interesting, because when we compare it with the Old Testament account of how Moses went up onto Mt. Sinai to receive the law from God, we find “When Moses went up on the mountain …” (Exodus 19:3, 24:12).  In fact, the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures which many of the writers of the New Testament used, translates this with exactly the same words as those used of Jesus ascending the mountain: anebē  eis to oros.

Many Jewish readers of the 1st century would have recognized the beginning of this story of the Sermon on the Mount as being identical to the beginning of the story of Moses receiving God’s law.  This would have struck a deep chord for those readers because every devout Jew knew that God had told Moses:   “I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their fellow Israelites, and I will put my words in his mouth. He will tell them everything I command him” (Deuteronomy 18:18). Every devout Jew expected this prophet like Moses, and the similarities between Jesus and Moses were clear for those ancient readers who knew the Hebrew Scriptures. 

For example, the infant Moses and Jesus both escaped death when a ruler attempted to kill the male Jewish children in the area, both hid in Egypt as a child, both gave up  life in a kingly home to lead a humble life of service,  both fasted forty days and nights, both communicated directly with God, both performed miracles, both provided the people with bread to eat, both sent out 12 individuals, both chose 70 individuals, both taught with authority – and both ascended a mountain for the giving of  key commands and instruction from God. 

With that background in mind, we can see the significance of the fact that throughout the first third of the Sermon on the Mount, the law of Moses is mentioned repeatedly, using the formula “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago …. But I tell you ….”  For example:

“You have heard that it was said to the people long ago ‘You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.’ But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment” ​ (Matthew 5:21-22, and see also Matthew 5:27, 31, 38, 43). 

Within the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus made it clear to his followers that he was not doing away with or replacing the principles of the law given through Moses (Matthew 5:17-19). Instead, in this pivotal sermon – the longest connected teaching of Jesus in the New Testament – he gave new insight into those principles, raising our understanding of their intent to the higher level to which we are called.

Although most of the world thinks that before beginning his ministry Jesus Christ was “the Carpenter of Nazareth,” biblical scholars know that it is not at all certain that Jesus was a carpenter. In fact, there are a number of reasons why he probably did not follow that profession, and why he most probably was a skilled worker of a different type.

Before looking at the evidence for the profession Jesus most probably followed, consider the reason that most people presume he was a carpenter.   There is one verse – and one only – in the whole New Testament that directly links Jesus to carpentry.

The Gospel of Mark tells us that when he spoke in their synagogue the people of Jesus’ home-town of Nazareth angrily exclaimed: “Isn’t this the carpenter? Isn’t this Mary’s son and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas and Simon? Aren’t his sisters here with us? …” (Mark 6:3). The Gospel of Matthew records the statement a little differently: “Isn’t this the carpenter’s son? Isn’t his mother’s name Mary, and aren’t his brothers James, Joseph, Simon and Judas?” (Matthew 13:55). This is not a direct statement that Jesus was a carpenter, although if his father was one it would be likely in that culture that Jesus would have followed the family profession.

But this is presuming that the Greek word used in these verses actually means “carpenter.”  In actuality, the word used by both Matthew and Mark was tekton which can mean someone who works with wood but can also signify what we today would call a contractor or house builder.  There is nothing in the immediate context of the two texts that can help us decide which meaning of tekton better fits the profession of Jesus, and we must look at the broader evidence of the New Testament in order to make an educated decision on this.

First, we should consider the fact that it is odd if Jesus made his living for thirty years as a carpenter making furniture or other items out of wood, that there is not a single example in his recorded teaching that uses an analogy or example from the carpenter’s trade.  On the other hand, it is interesting that all the Gospels record Jesus’ continual use of building in his teaching: his  comment on the stone wall that fell down (Luke 13:4), his story of the rich man who built a barn (Luke 12:16-21), the vineyard owner who built a wall (Matthew 21:33), the individual wanting to build a tower (Luke 14:28-30), the individual who built his house on rock as opposed to sand (Matthew 7:24-27), etc.  In fact, the Gospels contain more examples of Jesus using stories based on building than any other single activity.  So when we find one of the disciples commenting to Jesus on the impressive nature of the stones of the temple (Mark 3:1), it is in a way that would be very natural if he were a builder and interested in such aspects of building.

Archaeology also can contribute to our understanding of the possibility Jesus’ trade was actually that of a builder rather than a carpenter.  Good wood was scarce in Judea and was usually imported from Lebanon and too expensive for use by local populations in areas such as Nazareth.  On other hand, good building stone was readily available and even poorer homes were usually built of stone.

As it happens, Nazareth was only three miles from the town of Sepphoris, which was the focus of an intensive building program instituted during the reign of King Herod Antipas (c. 4 BC- AD 39) throughout Jesus’ lifetime.  Herod chose the site as the capital of his government and, as a result of his building projects, this lakeside town became the largest city in the region and was described as “the jewel of all Galilee” by the Jewish historian Josephus.  Importantly, its development doubtless required the involvement of every available tekton in the surrounding area.   So it is extremely likely that both Joseph and Jesus could have worked on this project which needed so many skilled builders.  Sepphoris was a reasonable “commute” from Nazareth and the road between them actually passed by a large rock quarry where most of the stone needed for building the town was obtained.

If Jesus was, in fact, a builder rather than a carpenter, then many of the things said about him in the New Testament may take on an additional layer of significance. When Jesus told the Jews regarding himself that “… The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone…’” (Luke 20:17–18 quoting Psalm 118:22), we may see an analogy that would have especially appealed to Jesus.  It was this thought that came to mind when the apostle Peter spoke of Jesus before the religious leaders of Jerusalem: “This Jesus is the stone that was rejected by you, the builders, which has become the cornerstone…” (Acts 4:11).  In Peters’ first epistle he also writes: “you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 2:5). Although we might expect Peter to say that believers were being built into a spiritual temple, the word oikos that he uses primarily means a regular dwelling house.

None of this proves that Jesus was a builder rather than a carpenter.  But when we compare the relative lack of carpentry work to the great demand for builders during his lifetime in the very area in which he lived,  the lack of carpentry analogies compared to the many building references in the teaching of Jesus, and perhaps even the  later New Testament spiritual references to Jesus in the context of building, it seems quite likely that Jesus was not a carpenter, but a builder.

​The Sermon on the Mount is a central part of the New Testament that demonstrates the essential nature of the Christian way of life as much as any part of Scripture. We may have even memorized sections of that sermon as found in Matthew’s Gospel (chapters 5-7), but how much time have we spent thinking about the setting of the sermon as opposed to the sermon itself?
 
We tend to take for granted that the sermon was given on a mountain because we know that Jesus frequently climbed mountains (Luke 6:12, John 6:15, etc.) – though he usually did this to get away from others, to be alone and to pray, rather than to teach people.   In this case we are specifically  told he went up on a mountain with his disciples following him.

The New International Version tells us: “Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them” (Matthew 5:1-2).  This gives the impression that Jesus simply went up on the side of a mountain – the lower slopes.  But in the original Greek (anebē  eis to oros) “he went up onto a mountain” conveys the sense that he ascended  on to the mountain – certainly well up toward, or to, its summit.
 
Now this wording is interesting, because when we compare it with the Old Testament account of how Moses went up onto Mt. Sinai to receive the law from God, we find “When Moses went up on the mountain …” (Exodus 19:3, 24:12).  In fact, the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures which many of the writers of the New Testament used, translates this with exactly the same words as those used of Jesus ascending the mountain: anebē  eis to oros.

Many Jewish readers of the first century would have recognized the beginning of this story of the Sermon on the Mount as being identical to the beginning of the story of Moses receiving God’s law.  This would have struck a deep chord for those readers because every devout Jew knew that God had told Moses:   “I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their fellow Israelites, and I will put my words in his mouth. He will tell them everything I command him” (Deuteronomy 18:18). Every devout Jew expected this prophet like Moses, and the similarities between Jesus and Moses were clear for those ancient readers who knew the Hebrew Scriptures. 

For example, the infant Moses and Jesus both escaped death when a ruler attempted to kill the male Jewish children in the area, both hid in Egypt as a child, both gave up  life in a kingly home to lead a humble life of service,  both fasted forty days and nights, both communicated directly with God, both performed miracles, both provided the people with bread to eat, both sent out 12 individuals, both chose 70 individuals, both taught with authority – and both ascended a mountain for the giving of  key commands and instruction from God. 

With that background in mind, we can see the significance of the fact that throughout the first third of the Sermon on the Mount the law of Moses is mentioned repeatedly, using the formula “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago …. But I tell you ….”  For example:

“You have heard that it was said to the people long ago ‘You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.’ But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment” (Matthew 5:21-22, and see also Matthew 5:27, 31, 38, 43). 

Within the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus made it clear to his followers that he was not doing away with the underlying principles of the law given through Moses at Sinai (Matthew 5:17-19). Instead, in this pivotal sermon – also given on a mountain – he gave new insight into God’s spiritual laws, raising our understanding of their intent to the higher level to which we are called.

​Biblical genealogies are things most of us read, accept, and then move on in our reading.  But the genealogy Matthew gives for Jesus at the beginning of his Gospel has a particularly interesting aspect.  Matthew divides the “family tree” he constructs for the promised Messiah into three sections of fourteen generations each, saying: “Thus there were fourteen generations in all from Abraham to David, fourteen from David to the exile to Babylon, and fourteen from the exile to the Messiah” (Matthew 1:17).

But if we look back into the Old Testament lists of the ancient kings of Judah who were among the ancestors of Jesus, we find that Matthew actually omits  three individuals between the kings Jehoram and Uzziah (Matthew 1:8): Ahaziah (2 Kings 8:25), Joash (2 Kings 12:1), and Amaziah (2 Kings 14:1).  In other words, there were actually seventeen known generations between David and the exile, rather than fourteen as Matthew states.

How can we reconcile this apparent contradiction in the Scriptures?  First, we must understand that Matthew follows a common ancient practice in structuring the genealogy he gives into clear units which were more easily remembered and taught.   That Matthew omits some individuals in order to accomplish this pattern is not surprising because if we look back to the very first verse of his Gospel, he does that to an even more striking degree in saying “This is the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah the son of David, the son of Abraham” – where the practice of “jumping generations” is clearly utilized to make his point: to stress that Jesus was the descendant of David (who is actually named first, before Abraham).

When we remember Matthew’s stress – both here and throughout his Gospel – on Jesus being the son of David, we can consider another fact.  The Jewish audience for whom Matthew primarily wrote had no numerals of the kind we use today. Instead, the Jews gave numerical values to certain letters of the Hebrew alphabet.  In this way, a given word could have a numerical value as well as a phonetic one.  “David” was written with the letters dalet (4), vav (6) and dalet (4), giving a total numerical value of 14. So fourteen was a number associated with the name of David, and it is certainly possible that Matthew structured his genealogy of Jesus in a pattern of fourteen generations in order to stress, in a literary or symbolic manner, the connection between David and Jesus, the “Son of David.”

We must remember that precisely because Mathew wrote to a Jewish audience, he knew that his readers were familiar with the king lists of the Hebrew Scriptures and that they would understand he was “jumping generations” in Matthew 1:8 in exactly the same way he did in Matthew 1:1.

We can see this fact in another way.  Ancient genealogies usually omitted women in their reckoning, but Matthew includes four women who were Gentiles or had Gentile connections (Matthew 1:3, 5-6), even though he did not include the four great matriarchs of the biblical tradition – Sarah, Rebekah, Leah and Rachel.  The reason is clearly because another theme of Matthew’s Gospel is the inclusion of the Gentiles in God’s plan for humanity. 

​Matthew adjusted the details of his genealogy of Jesus in order to make the points that were vital for his story.  So, rather than contradicting Old Testament accounts, Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus is carefully constructed to stress Jesus’ descent from both King David and from several Gentile ancestors – which gave him the genealogy to be not only the King of the Jews, but also the King of all mankind.