The Cradle of Christianity

Jerusalem was certainly the birthplace of Christianity, but Antioch was its cradle. In the first century CE Antioch was the third greatest city in the Roman Empire (after Rome and Alexandria) and the capital of the province of Syria, with a population of over two-hundred thousand. From Ignatius bishop of Antioch in the second century to John Chrysostom in the fourth century, it was the home for great theologians and bishops. The city was predominantly Greek-speaking but had a large Jewish population. It is obvious why the apostles considered Antioch prime territory for evangelization.

They’ll Know We are Christians

One of the prominent figures in the early Antiochene church was Barnabas and his story is told in Acts 11:19-30. Because of persecutions following the death of Stephen, believers fled Jerusalem for Phoenicia (modern-day Lebanon), Cyprus, and Antioch. Although the initial inclination was only to teach the word to Jews, in Antioch the Hellenist believers proclaimed Jesus to the Greeks as well and converted many.

Once the Jerusalem leaders heard of this, they sent Barnabas to investigate and perhaps take control of the situation. There are no chronological markers to indicate when this happened, but it is plausible that it was concurrent with Philip’s mission to the Samaritans and Peter’s conversion of the house of Cornelius. However, Peter was one of the Twelve and Philip one of the Seven, so both of those missions were somewhat under the auspices of the Jerusalem church. Whatever was happening in Antioch was completely unsanctioned.

After assessing the situation, Barnabas decided to build upon what had already taken root there. He travelled to Tarsus (about 100 miles from Antioch, as the crow flies) and brought Saul back to Antioch with him where they spent the next year teaching and preaching. This tells us that Barnabas is bringing both the Antiochene church and Saul under control of Jerusalem. No longer is Saul acting as an independent agent; he now has a mandate from the mother church through Barnabas.

Almost as an aside, the last part of v. 26 announces that “in Antioch the disciples were first called Christians.” Up to this point in Acts, the followers of Jesus have been referred to as believers, disciples, brothers, or members of “the Way.” It seems like a minor historical footnote, but the implication is that the followers of Christ in Antioch had become so numerous and so different in practice from the Jewish population that they had to be identified by a different name. “Christian” was a name they were called, not a name they gave themselves.

Relief Mission

Vv. 27-29 tell of the wandering prophet Agabus who announced a coming famine in Jerusalem. Luke tells us the famine took place during the reign of the Emperor Claudius and the historian Josephus does report there was a famine sometime in the years 46-48 CE. (We’ll see Agabus again in 21:10-14 when he predicts Paul will be handed over to the Romans.) Agabus’ prophecy encouraged the prosperous Antiochene church to take up a collection to send to the poor believers in Judea.

Luke states that this relief mission was carried out by Barnabas and Saul (v. 29). But in his letters Paul seems to preclude it. As we saw, he did report visiting Jerusalem to confer with Peter for a couple of weeks three years after his conversion. After this, Paul says he “went into the regions of Syria and Cilicia” and it was fourteen years until he returned to attend the “Council of Jerusalem” described in Acts 15.

Some biblical scholars accept the historicity of a famine relief mission but think Saul’s involvement was a creation of Luke. As with the census at the birth of Jesus and Saul’s journey to Damascus, Luke appears to be using the relief mission as an excuse to get Barnabas and Saul to Jerusalem so they can return with John Mark.

Herod’s Persecution

We first hear of John Mark in Acts 12:1-19, a passage recounting persecutions under “King Herod” This is not the same “King Herod” who had John the Baptist beheaded in the gospels. That was Herod Antipas. This “King Herod” is Herod Agrippa I who assumed control over Judea in 41 CE. It’s not coincidental that persecution of Christians picks up again when Judea is no longer under direct Roman control.

According to Luke, Agrippa ordered the execution of James son of Zebedee, brother of John, and one of the Twelve. Agrippa then had Peter arrested, double-chained, and guarded by four squads of soldiers but to no avail because an angel of the Lord sprang him out of prison. What follows is an amusing scene as Peter goes to the house of Mary, the mother of John Mark, to announce his freedom. The maid answering the door was so shocked when she heard Peter’s voice that she ran to tell everyone inside and forgot to open the door, leaving Peter still knocking at the door.

“Wait, don’t leave me out here!” The maid Rhoda runs away without opening the gate for Peter in this Sunday School lesson (from www.BibleFunForKids.com by Debbie Jackson).

John Mark

Concluding the account of the Herodian persecution is the report of the death of Agrippa (12:20-23) and the Jewish historian Josephus helps us date this to 44 CE. Mention of the successful completion of the famine relief mission (12:25) awkwardly ends the chapter. The verse is very intrusive in its current location but it flows perfectly if read immediately after 11:30.

Luke purposefully interrupted his story in order to mention Peter’s visit to the house of Mary, the mother of John, also known as Mark. Why? One reason is to link Peter to Mark. When Peter escapes from prison, he immediately goes to the safe house of Mark’s family where he knows believers will be gathered in prayer. This suggests Mark’s family were prominent members of the Jerusalem community. Later tradition will associate Mark more closely with Peter.

In 13:5 we are told that on their first mission in Cyprus, Barnabas and Saul have John Mark with them as their assistant. But once they departed Cyprus, John Mark left them to return to Jerusalem (13:13). This didn’t sit well with Paul. When Paul later proposed (15:36-40) checking up on the cities they visited on their first mission, Barnabas wanted to take Mark along but Paul considered him a deserter. So they parted ways, Barnabas taking Mark with him to Cyprus and Paul choosing Silas to accompany him to Asia Minor.

Why is Barnabas so keen on taking Mark along with him? Scholars disagree as to whether or not Colossians is an authentic Pauline letter but in Col 4:10, we are told that Mark is the cousin of Barnabas. That would certainly explain why Barnabas chose Mark over Paul. But Mark eventually returned to Paul’s good graces for he is mentioned in the authentic Pauline letter to Philemon as one of Paul’s fellow workers (v. 24).

We think of figures like Barnabas and Paul as great saints and heroes of the Church. That does not make them exempt from human foibles like playing favorites and bearing grudges. What is important is that they rise above it.

Trial History

While the evangelists disagree as to whether Jesus had a trial before the Sanhedrin or merely an interrogation before the high priest, at night or in the morning or both, they all agree that the Jewish authorities brought him before Pontius Pilate. Another point of agreement is that the charges against Jesus before the Jewish authorities were religious in nature: threats against the Temple, claims of messiahship, questions about his disciples and teachings. But Pilate is only concerned with the answer to a political question: “Are you the King of the Jews?”

Pilate’s question seems to come out of the blue in each of the gospels. Jesus never referred to himself that way. Yet “King of the Jews” is the charge all four evangelists tell us was written on the titulus that hung above Jesus’ head on the cross. Since it is highly unlikely there were any eyewitnesses at the trial before Pilate, the Passion tradition may have simply projected the charge on the cross back into the Roman trial as a question Pilate posed to Jesus.

How Involved Were the Jewish Authorities?

And thus we come to the delicate question of what role did the Jewish authorities of the time play in the crucifixion of Jesus. There are four basic views:

1. The Jewish authorities were the prime movers in Jesus’ arrest, trial and sentencing.
2. Although the Jewish authorities were involved, all main legal formalities were carried out by the Romans.
3. The Romans were the prime movers and were assisted by collaborators among the Jewish authorities.
4. The Jewish authorities were not involved in any way and references to such in the NT were due to anti-Jewish polemics.

There is certainly anti-Jewish polemic at work in the gospels (Matthew and John, especially), but in 1 Thess 2:14-15 Paul refers to “the Jews who killed both the Lord Jesus and the prophets.” Written about 20 years after Jesus’ death, it attests to an early belief in the complicity of the Jewish authorities. Involvement by the Jewish authorities cannot be a complete fabrication.

The opposite extreme that the Jewish authorities were solely to blame must also be excluded. While the evidence suggests that there was some Jewish involvement, Matthew intensified this by having Pilate theatrically wash his hands of the matter with the crowd shouting, “His blood be on us an on our children!” (Mt 27-24-25) That single line of Scripture has done more to embitter relations between Jews and Christians than any other.

This leaves us with the second and third views as historical possibilities. The difference between them comes down to the degree of Jewish involvement and motive. Were the Jewish authorities anxious to eliminate Jesus or were they tools of the Romans? Were the charges against Jesus religiously or politically motivated?

Historical Possibilities

There does seem to be evidence of collaboration between the high priests and the Romans. Joseph Caiaphas, for example, held the office of high priest for eighteen years, the longest term of office in the century between Herod the Great and the fall of Jerusalem. For ten of those years, he served under Pontius Pilate, so they were obviously able to work together for an extended period of time. And, when Pilate was finally removed from office, Caiaphas was deposed as well.

With respect to motive, there may not have been much difference between a religious charge that Jesus claimed to be the messiah and a political charge that he claimed to be the King of the Jews. Either Pilate or the chief priests could have seen Jesus as a disturbance to the peace during the important religious festival of Passover when Jerusalem was thronged with pilgrims. Actions such as a triumphal entry into Jerusalem or halting activities in the Temple could have been viewed as politically provocative.

My personal feeling is that Jesus’ appearance before the high priest was a preliminary interrogation (as in John) rather than a full-blown trial before the Sanhedrin (as in Mark/Matthew). It seems a foregone conclusion that he would be delivered to Pilate. Whether Pilate thought Jesus was a dangerous revolutionary who needed to be crucified or simply someone he wanted out of the way until after Passover, we can’t really say, but the most plausible explanation to me is that Pilate asked Caiaphas to see to it that Jesus was handed over to his custody. Caiaphas then leaned on Judas to arrange a time and place when Jesus could be arrested away from the crowds.

The Innocence Project

The four gospels tell us that Pilate found Jesus innocent and was pressured into the death sentence by the chief priests. Such a forthright and weak-kneed Pilate does not sound like the obstinate and harsh figure described by historians Josephus and Philo. The evangelists had more reason to portray Pilate in a favorable light than the historians had to blacken his reputation because the evangelists wanted Christians to know that even though Jesus was convicted of a Roman capital crime, he was blameless of such a charge. Having the Roman governor state that he though Jesus was innocent furthered that goal.

Ecce Homo (1871) by religious artist Antonio Ciseri portrays the moment in John's Gospel when Pilate presents Jesus to the crowd saying, "Behold the man!" Unlike the other gospels when Jesus is only scourged after his sentence to be crucified, John's Pilate orders him flogged first thinking that would be enough to satisfy the crowd and win him sympathy.

One aspect of the trial that all four evangelists agree upon is that Pilate recognized a custom of releasing a prisoner at Passover. He offers to free either Jesus or Barabbas, a man who had – according to Mark – committed murder during an insurrection, and the crowd chose Barabbas. (The Gospel of John simply refers to him as a “bandit.”)

Many scholars have questioned the historicity of the account. Certainly, it is highly unlikely that Pilate would have released a known murderer or insurrectionist, but it is possible that he would be willing to release a simple robber before Passover if there was a custom of a paschal pardon. Had this occurred immediately prior to Jesus’ crucifixion, the two events could have been conflated at an early date in the Passion tradition into a dramatic scene where Pilate presents the guilty Barabbas and the innocent Jesus and the crowd chooses Barabbas.

Other scenes are pure creation of the evangelists to emphasize the innocence of Jesus. Through his passion narrative, Matthew has a running theme of “innocent blood.” In addition to the aforementioned episode of Pilate washing his hands, after betraying Jesus, Judas returns the thirty pieces of silver he was paid, saying, “I have sinned by betraying innocent blood” (Mt 27:4). While Pilate deliberates on what to do with Jesus, his wife sends word, “Have nothing to do with that innocent man” (Mt 27:19).

Luke adds a scene (23:6-12) where, upon learning that Jesus is from Galilee, Pilate sends him to Herod Antipas only to have Herod send him back. But the net effect was that Herod and Pilate became friends from that day on; Jesus has a healing influence even over his enemies.

All sides agree that the cause of Jesus’ death was Roman crucifixion, which means that highest Roman authority in Judea found Jesus guilty of a capital crime and had him executed in the most brutal and shameful way possible, a form of death reserved for only the very worst criminals. The first Christians had to explain to their fellow Jews and Roman citizens that this disgraced figure was actually the messiah and the Son of God. It took decades before the first Christians were able to find meaning in death on a cross. It would have been counterproductive for the apostles to invent such a story if it didn’t really happen.

Beginning from the Baptism of John

[As I wrote up this week’s article, it quickly grew to be twice the length of a normal article, so I will divide it into two posts. The second half will be posted in a day or two.]

In Acts of the Apostles 1:15-26, the disciples had to choose a replacement for Judas. Peter lays out the qualifications: “one of the men who have accompanied us during all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us” (vv. 21-22a). Indeed, all four gospels start the public ministry of Jesus with John baptizing in the wilderness. But in so doing, they expose an awkward fact: John baptized Jesus.

Damage Control

In being baptized by John, Jesus assumed an inferior position as a disciple of John. This was an embarrassment to the early Church, particularly in its dealings with the followers of John the Baptist during the spread of the ministry. Jesus accepting John’s baptism for the repentance of sins also raised awkward questions about the sinlessness of Jesus. This inconvenient truth of Jesus being baptized by John required some “damage control” on the part of the evangelists.

Mark (1:9-11) gets the baptism of Jesus out of the way as quickly as possible and uses the occasion to reveal Jesus’ vision of God declaring, “You are my Son…I am well pleased.” Matthew (3:13-17) presents John humbling himself before Jesus, saying, “I need to be baptized by you.” In true Matthean style, Jesus intones that John must baptize him “to fulfill all righteousness.” The Gospel of John (1:29-34) avoids the subject altogether. In the Fourth Gospel, the evangelist has the Baptist recount how he saw the Spirit descend upon Jesus like a dove – the same language used in the synoptic accounts of Jesus’ baptism – but the evangelist avoids saying this occurred at the moment of Jesus’ baptism.

Luke (3:21-22) has one of the oddest approaches to the story. He doesn’t deny that Jesus was baptized, but he does avoid stating that John did the baptizing. Like Matthew, he recounts some of John’s preaching and adds some ethical teaching, but then he ushers John off the stage with his arrest by Herod Antipas. In the gospels of Mark and Matthew, John’s imprisonment is announced right after Jesus’ baptism, but Luke contorts the chronology (and logic of the story) by placing the baptism of Jesus after John is out of the picture. It’s not a goof because in several speeches in Acts of the Apostles, the speaker (like in the example above) recalls how the gospel story began with John’s baptism of repentance, but in every case Luke avoids mentioning that Jesus was also baptized by John.

“The Baptism of Christ” (1515) by Joachim Patinir

The Historical John the Baptist

What do we really know about John the Baptist? Just as with Jesus, the gospels provide most of the information we have of the Baptist, but the Jewish historian Josephus also mentioned John in Antiquities (18.5.2). Josephus’ description of John’s ministry of baptism, his popularity and his execution by Herod Antipas is consistent with what the gospels tell us.

Both the synoptic gospels and the Fourth Gospel cite Isaiah 40:3 as the rallying cry of the Baptist: “The voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.” The Qumran community – from whose library we got the Dead Sea Scrolls – also used this quote from Isaiah to explain why they formed their community in the desert.

Mark provides only a small sample of John’s preaching (Mk 1:7-8) describing “a mightier one” who is coming after him, one whose sandals John is not fit to untie (the role of a slave was to untie the master’s sandals and wash his feet). John’s water baptism is a promise of the baptism in the Holy Spirit that will come with his successor. This saying is repeated in Matthew and Luke who both used Mark as their source material, but also in the Fourth Gospel (John 1:26-27), suggesting that this tradition is very old.

Both Matthew and Luke have more to say about John’s preaching, using almost the same words. Biblical scholars hypothesize that the two evangelists used a lost collection of sayings – dubbed Q, from the German word Quelle (“source”) – that Mark did not know about. Two “Baptist blocks” of material from Q related to John can be found in Mt 3:7-12 (which matches Lk 3:7-9 and Lk 3:15-18) and Mt 11:2-19 (which matches Lk 7:18-35).

The First Baptist Block of Sayings

The beginning of the first Baptist block portrays John as a fiery preacher of the imminent wrath of God: “The axe is laid to the root of the trees and every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire” (Lk 3:9). The second half of the first Baptist block continues the fiery theme with the “mightier one” clearing out the threshing floor, gathering the wheat into the granary and burning the chaff. The implication is that to avoid the coming judgment one needs to repent and bear the fruit of repentance; simply being a “child of Abraham” will not save you.

Luke interrupts the first Baptist block of material from Q with vv. 10-14, verses which have no parallel in Matthew. In Luke, John offers ethical advice on how one can act to show repentance. He tailors his advice to reflect his audience. For the multitudes, share your coat or food. For the tax collectors, collect no more than is required. For soldiers, no extortion or intimidations; be content with your pay. This ethical advice has an echo in Josephus who wrote that the Baptist preached “cultivating virtue and practicing justice toward one another and piety toward God.”

Josephus provides a political reason for Herod’s arrest and execution of the Baptist: “Herod began to fear that John’s powerful ability to persuade people might lead to some sort of revolt.” Herod considered it wiser to arrest John before the situation got out of control and imprisoned him in the mountain fortress of Machaerus on the east side of the Dead Sea. Mark (6:17-29) and Matthew (14:3-12) provide more details on the reasons behind the imprisonment and death of the Baptist, but Luke is satisfied in only the briefest note (3:19-20).

The Second Baptist Block of Sayings

The second “Baptist block” can be divided into three units. In the first unit (Lk 7:18-23), the imprisoned John sends his disciples to ask Jesus if he is “the one to come.” Jesus tells them to report what they see – the blind see, the lame walk, etc.

The second unit (Lk 7:24-28) is a carefully crafted composition consisting of Jesus’ rhetorical question (and three different answers) to the crowds concerning John: “What did you go out to see?” The final answer emphatically praises John as more than a prophet, saying none born of women is greater than him, yet the least in the kingdom of God is greater than John.

In the third unit (Lk 7:31-34) Jesus compares the current generation to children in the marketplace. Like the children who refused to dance to the flute, John fasted and avoided strong drink. Like the children who refused to mourn, the Son of Man (Jesus’s term for himself) did not fast and drank wine. John was called a mad man and Jesus was called “a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.”

[In part two, we will look at a tradition buried in the Fourth Gospel that seems to have been suppressed in the synoptic gospels and put the pieces together to give us a picture of how John influenced Jesus.]

His Name is John

The book of Revelation recounts a vision (4:6-10) of God’s throne room with four creatures resembling a lion, an ox, a man and an eagle. Early Christians took these as symbols of the four evangelists. If we were assigning them today, we might say something like “Matthew emphasizes Jesus as the messianic king, so his symbol should be the lion,” but the early Christians didn’t think like that. Since Matthew’s gospel opens with a genealogy, his symbol would be a man. Mark’s gospel starts in the desert with John the Baptist, so his animal was the lion (because lions were found in the wilderness). John’s gospel begins in heaven, so the eagle became his sign. And the first scene in Luke’s gospel takes place in the sanctuary of the Jerusalem temple, so he was assigned the ox (because oxen were burned as offerings).

Why does Luke begin a gospel about Jesus with an announcement of the birth of John the Baptist in the temple? Like Matthew, Luke felt the need to bridge the gap between the world of the OT and the time of Jesus. Matthew used a genealogy to establish the linkage. Luke took a different route in his first two chapters, bringing OT-like characters in contact with figures from the age of Jesus like Mary. (Luke will do the same at the beginning of his Acts of the Apostles when he needs to transition from the period of Jesus to the age of the Spirit.)

Old Testament Characters

The first scene in Luke’s gospel (1:5-25) takes place as the priest Zechariah is offering incense in the temple. (And Luke will end the gospel with the disciples returning to Jerusalem to pray in the temple.) Zechariah was chosen by lot and this kind of opportunity literally came along once in a lifetime given the number of priests available for such a service. He and his wife Elizabeth are childless and aged. In this respect they are quite similar to Abraham and Sarah in the book of Genesis, the only childless couple in the OT who were incapacitated by age.

They are also reminiscent of Samuel's parents, Hannah and Elkanah. When the barren Hannah paid her annual visit (1 Sam 1:3) to the sanctuary to pray for a child, the priest Eli announced that her prayers would be answered (v. 17). Both Samuel and John are Nazirites from birth, avoiding wine and strong drink (1 Sam 1:11; Lk 1:15). Mary’s Magnificat (1:46-55) is very similar to Hannah’s canticle of praise (1 Sam 2:1-10).

Luke understands that the Hebrew Scriptures are divided into three parts: the Law, the Prophets, and the Writings. Abraham and Sarah are figures from the Law. The story of Samuel and his parents belongs to the Prophets. Lk 1:67 explicitly says that Zechariah, once his muteness was removed, uttered a prophecy. The angel’s pronouncement of John’s future career in 1:17 alludes to Malachi, the last of the prophetic writings (Mal 3:1; 3:23-24; some translations 4:5-6).

That brings us to the figure of the angel Gabriel. The only time that Gabriel appears in the OT is in Daniel. Each time Gabriel appears to Daniel (Dan 9-10), it is called a “vision,” just as his appearance is called in Luke. Zechariah, like Daniel before him (Dan 9:20-21), was offering up prayers when he had his vision and, like Daniel (Dan 10:15), was struck mute. In the Hebrew Scriptures, the book of Daniel appears in the portion called the Writings – unlike the Christian OT where it is grouped with the Prophets.

The Naming of John

In an allusive fashion, Luke has spanned the entirety of the OT with the cast and settings of his first chapter. In Luke’s mind, John is the hinge between the age of the Law and the Prophets and the time of Jesus: “The Law and the Prophets were until John; since then the Kingdom of God is preached” (Lk 16:16). John is described in the infancy narrative as an Elijah-like figure who will go before the Lord and be filled with the Spirit, terms that are applied to him later when Luke describes his ministry.

The similarities with OT stories do not end after the announcement of John’s birth. After being struck mute, Zechariah returned home and Elizabeth conceived (1:23-24); compare this with “Then they went to their home…and in due time Hannah conceived” (1 San 1:19-20). Elizabeth’s reaction of “The Lord has dealt with me in this way,” (v. 25) echoes Hannah, “The Lord remembered her.” Elizabeth’s feeling that her pregnancy has taken away her “disgrace” is reminiscent of Rachel’s reaction upon giving birth to Joseph: “God has taken away my disgrace” (Gen 30:23).

An aged Elizabeth looks on as Zechariah writes down his wish for the name of the baby. The Birth of St. John the Baptist by Giuliano Bugiardini (1475-1555)

The story of the annunciation to Mary (1:26-56) interrupts John’s nativity story; we’ll discuss that in a separate article. The actual birth is described briefly in vv. 57-58. Luke spends more time (vv. 59-66) on the naming of John with emphasis on the “miracle” that both Zechariah and Elizabeth independently came up with the same name. We would naturally assume that the two had discussed a name during the pregnancy, even if they had to pass notes back and forth due to Zechariah’s muteness – and apparent deafness. When the muteness is lifted, Zechariah delivers his praise of God (vv. 67-79); we’ll discuss the Benedictus in a later article as well.

The final verse of the story (1:80) sets up the bridge for John’s public ministry: “The child grew and became strong in spirit, and he was in the desert until the day of his public appearance to Israel.” The next time we hear of John is 3:2b and it picks up the thread: “the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the desert.”

John Goes Before Jesus

But why bother to tell the story of John’s birth at all? Luke appears to be following the gospel tradition of introducing John the Baptist before Jesus. As odd as it sounds to us, the Baptist was better known in the 1st century CE than Jesus was. The Jewish historian Josephus, for example, writes twice as much about John’s ministry and death as he does about Jesus (and even that much includes later Christian embellishment). It seems natural that the gospel writers would introduce Jesus’ public ministry by describing how the better-known figure of John the Baptist essentially passed the torch to him. But John has ever since been overshadowed by Jesus and is now known mostly as a minor character in the gospel drama.

In the Catholic Church, John’s birth is celebrated on June 24. Maybe it is coincidental that the Nativity of John the Baptist occurs right after the summer solstice – as the days start getting shorter – just as Christmas occurs right after the winter solstice – as the days start getting longer. Whether intentional or not, the symbolism is inescapable when you recall what the Gospel of John said about the Baptist: “He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light” (Jn 1:8). And later in the gospel, the Baptist himself testified about Jesus: “He must increase, but I must decrease” (Jn 3:30).

An Epiphany of Sorts

The word epiphany comes from the Greek word meaning “appearance” or “manifestation.” In the Church calendar, the feast of Epiphany is traditionally celebrated on January 6 in commemoration of the coming of the magi to the Christ Child and marks the end of the 12 days of Christmas. Called “Three Kings Day” in some countries, the festival celebrates the first manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles. In conversational usage, “epiphany” means a sudden flash of understanding or insight through a simple or commonplace experience.

Visit of the Astrologers

Mt 2:1-23 provides the story of the visit of the magi, the flight to Egypt and the massacre of the innocent. The evangelist jumps straight from Joseph naming Jesus after his birth in 1:25 to the magi arriving in Jerusalem in 2:1. The magi, or wise men, were most likely astrologers, not kings. Matthew doesn’t say how many there were or their point of origin other than that they were “from the east.” The popular idea that there were three wise men is based on the three gifts the magi brought: gold, frankincense and myrrh. Later traditions (from the 6th century CE) provide them with names such as Melchior, Gaspar, and Balthasar, different ethnicities and ages (old man with a white beard, young beardless man, and man with black skin).

The Adoration of the Magi, tapestry (designed by Edward Burne-Jones 1888, woven 1894)

Noting the rising of a particular star, the magi determined that it signified the birth of the “king of the Jews.” Thus, it was observations of the natural world that led the Gentile astrologers to the messiah. But, the natural world reveals only so much; the magi must inquire of King Herod the Great in Jerusalem as to the exact location of the child. God’s revelation in Scripture is needed for them to complete their journey.

Herod calls together his “chief priests and scribes” – the same antagonists that the adult Jesus will face in his ministry – and is told that Bethlehem is the birth place based on Micah 5:2. Although Herod and his scribes have the Scriptures, they do not believe and hence cannot use that information themselves. Herod learns the exact time of the star’s appearance – presumably the date of the child’s birth – from the magi and asks them to report back to him once they have found the newborn king.

The magi set out towards Bethlehem and the star led them to the exact location (2:9). Many have speculated if the “star” was a supernova, comet, or planetary conjunction. None of these could be used to pinpoint a particular house in Bethlehem. And it is a house in Bethlehem, according to v. 11. In Matthew’s telling, Mary and Joseph were residents of Bethlehem.

About those gifts...Matthew is not explicitly citing Isaiah, but may have him in mind: “all those from Sheba shall come bearing gold and frankincense and proclaiming the salvation of the Lord” (Is 60:6, LXX). We’re all familiar with gold. Frankincense was usually burnt as incense in religious ceremonies. Myrrh, an aromatic spice, was used as incense, as perfume, and as a cosmetic. Mixed with wine, it was offered as a painkiller to Jesus on the cross (Mark 15:23) and, with aloes, was used to embalm Jesus (John 19:39). Certainly, they were gifts befitting a king.

Refugees in Egypt

After the magi failed to return to Herod, he ordered the death of all boys two years of age or younger in the vicinity of Bethlehem. If the population of Bethlehem was about 1000, the number would be less than 20 boys. There are no records of Herod ordering this, but he was notoriously paranoid and it sounds like something he could have done. Matthew tells us that Herod decided on two years based on the time of the star’s first appearance (v. 16). The clues in the story tell us that Jesus would have been one or two years old, not the newborn babe in the traditional nativity story.

Joseph was warned of the danger by an angel in a dream and told to take his family and flee to Egypt until further notice. Only after the death of Herod (in 4 BCE) does the angel re-appear to Joseph in a dream and instruct him to return to Israel “for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead” (v. 20). This is a clear echo of Exodus 4:19 when Moses is told the same thing while he is an exile in Midian.

Joseph planned to return to Bethlehem until he learned that Herod’s son Archelaus was ruling over Judea. An angel had to instruct Joseph in one more dream that he should go instead to Galilee, whereupon he made his home in Nazareth. Why didn’t the angel simply tell Joseph in one dream to go directly to Galilee from Egypt? The awkwardness probably stems from Matthew adding vv. 22-23 to material that he inherited. Matthew is taking pains to explain to his audience how Jesus could have been born in Bethlehem – because that’s was Joseph’s home – yet was known to have come from Nazareth. (Luke uses the census to explain how Joseph and Mary, residents of Nazareth, found themselves in Bethlehem for Jesus’ birth.)

Mosaic Pattern

The imagery in Matthew’s narrative is reminiscent of stories surrounding Moses. It is not mentioned in the OT, but the Jewish historian Josephus, writing around the time of Matthew (80-90 CE), told the story of an Egyptian pharaoh who was informed by one of his fortune-tellers that a child born of the Israelites would be the downfall of the Egyptians. This caused the pharaoh to order the deaths of the male babies. But Moses’ father Amram was visited by God in a dream and told that his unborn child would be the one feared in the Egyptian prophecy. Later, as an adult, Moses fled to Midian to save his life, only returning to Egypt once he was told that those seeking his life were dead.

Much later still, when Moses was leading the Israelites to the promised land, Balak the king of Moab, called upon Balaam, a practitioner of the magical arts (the NT would call him a magus), to curse Israel (Numbers 22-24). Instead of cursing the Israelites, Balaam blessed them, predicting that “a star shall rise out of Jacob and a scepter shall come forth from Israel” (Num 24:17). This was understood as referring to the Davidic monarchy, but later was re-interpreted as a prophecy of a messianic king in the line of David.

Gospel in Miniature

Having reviewed Mt 1-2, we can see why the infancy narrative is called “a gospel in miniature.” In these two short chapters, Matthew explains various christological titles ascribed to Jesus: Christ, Son of Abraham, Son of David, Son of God, and King of the Jews. He also shows the reactions to this revelation, both good (the magi) and bad (Herod). Despite having the guide of the Scriptures, Herod (representing the Jews) rejects the messiah and tries to kill him, but he is accepted and paid homage by the magi (representing the Gentiles). This reflects the situation in Matthew’s community, which is predominantly Gentile. Although his opponents tried to kill Jesus, God protected him and later brought him back.

Studying the infancy narrative here and in Luke more than 30 years ago, was sort of an epiphany for me. I began to see that the imagery and symbolism had layers of meaning far deeper than I could have imagined. They were no longer background stories for nativity plays and Christmas specials. Understanding their true purpose helped me put the adult Christ back into Christmas.