The “three wise men,” or Magi — part 4

Worshiping Jesus in Matthew 2:9-11

Although the star may have only appeared to move (Bethlehem was, after all, only six miles south of Jerusalem), the language of it going before them might remind Matthew’s audience of the pillar of fire in the wilderness (Ex 13:21-22). It was customary when looking for someone in a small town to simply ask around. Luke says that shepherds had spread word around Bethlehem about the child’s birth; although Mary and Joseph are now in a house (Matt 2:11), some local people may have known where to find them. A local midwife would probably know where any young babies were. However it happened, the Magi found the family.

Back in verse 2, the Magi had already publicly announced their mission: to “worship” or “pay homage to” the king of the Jews. Although I have described them as “pagans” because that is how they would appear to Matthew’s ancient Jewish audience, we do not know if all of these Magi believed in many gods. Most Persians in this period were polytheists, but some followed a Persian faith called Zoroastrianism, which affirmed one good god and an opposing evil power. In any case, the Magi were ready to pay homage to Jesus here—and rightly so. Others in this Gospel also fall before Jesus with requests or worship, especially after his resurrection (see 28:9, 17). These Magi did not know everything they needed, but they took seriously what they did know. We who know Jesus: do we worship him this seriously?

The Magi lavish on him their gifts: gold and costly spices from the east. Granted that the Magi probably had access to more wealth than most people do, their entire journey had been one costly in time and resources. Again we may ask: how seriously do we treat our worship and honor of Jesus?

In part theirs was a diplomatic mission from Iran in the heart of Central Asia, where the gospel has never yet flourished like it has in some other regions (except in regions like Armenia). Followers of Jesus did spread eastward in Asia in the following centuries. Yet Persian Christians suffered in many generations, partly because of the perception that Christianity was a western religion belonging to the Roman Empire. But after Judeans in Bethlehem, Asians came first. When Matthew’s Gospel keeps emphasizing the receptiveness of Gentiles, he is inviting his Jewish Christian audience to care about peoples besides themselves. This is important for Christians today to remember as well: his Gospel later declares that the good news must be preached among all peoples. Right from the start in Bethlehem, Jesus was for everyone

The “three wise men,” or Magi — part 3

The Bible Experts of Matthew 2:4-6

When the Magi arrive, their caravan is so large that all of Jerusalem is talking, and they cannot evade attention (2:3). Against tradition, there is no reason to believe that there were only three of these wise men. Why do they come to Jerusalem? Presumably they expect that a new Judean king would be born in the palace of the old one. Further, even had they known that their destination was Bethlehem, one had to travel to Jerusalem before reaching Bethlehem, on the road six miles to the south.

The Magi’s knowledge was only approximate; it was the Bible teachers who could tell where the promised child would be born. It is not surprising that the aristocratic priests and scribes would have cooperated with Herod’s inquiry. The old Sanhedrin, Jerusalem’s municipal assembly, had given Herod a lot of trouble, so when he took power he executed them and replaced them with his own political supporters. (I believe I already mentioned Herod’s political acumen; he certainly had ways of reducing public expressions of dissatisfaction about his reign.) The current leading priests and scribes in the Sanhedrin were his supporters, but they did know the Bible.

They quoted Micah 5:2: the expected king would be born to the line of David in Bethlehem (2:4-6); Herod therefore sent the Magi on to Bethlehem (2:8). Yet everyone knew why these Magi had come to Jerusalem; all Jerusalem had been troubled by their inquiry about the birth of a king. These Bible teachers knew the Bible, and knew the report that a king had been born. Yet there is no implication that these Judean wise men themselves went to Bethlehem, in contrast to the Persian wise men who had spent many months traveling from the east. It appears that they simply took Jesus for granted—and that is a sin that only people who know the Bible can commit. I wonder: do we ever do this?

Yet as we read Matthew’s Gospel, we see that in the next generation, the successors of these aristocratic priests and scribes were not content to ignore Jesus. No longer a baby, Jesus had become a threat to their own interests, and some of them wanted him dead. Being religious, or even knowing the Bible, or even being respected as pastors or teachers, is no guarantee that our hearts are right. Perhaps even today, the line between taking Jesus for granted and needing him out of our way remains thin. Let no one misunderstand me: my life is devoted to helping people understand the Bible. But God asks more of us than knowing the Bible’s teachings. He bids us follow him.

 

 

The “three wise men,” or Magi — part 2

Persian astrologers in Matthew 2:1-2

Magi, whom some translations call “wise men,” were noted astrologers and dream interpreters. They served the king of Persia, but here come on a special diplomatic mission to honor another king. Many people in the Roman empire respected the esoteric eastern wisdom attributed to the Magi, but some applied the term to magicians, who were not respected.

Greek translations of the Old Testament spoke of the Magi as Daniel’s enemies, so the first time that Matthew’s audience heard the story, they might expect these Magi to be hostile. Sometimes we have unfair prejudices about groups of people who do not share our faith; fortunately, God loves and often reaches out to people we do not trust. As the parable of the sower teaches us, we should sow widely, because we cannot predict what ground will bear fruit.

Moreover, Scripture condemned divination, including astrology, as worthy of death. Yet in announcing his Son’s birth, God chose to speak to these Magi where they were looking. (Some scholars suggest that among celestial phenomena that could have gotten their attention was a planet that symbolized kingship aligning with a symbol for Judea.) When God has touched people, however imperfect their knowledge, we should work with them rather than pushing them away. Matthew’s Gospel closes with a mission to all peoples, and one of his first examples after the four women in the genealogy is these Magi.

 

 

The “three wise men,” or Magi — part 1

Ancient writers and hearers were used to learning positive and negative examples from the behavior of characters in their narratives. They could also learn from the contrast of different characters, as in this chapter. Here pagan Magi, whom Matthew’s Jewish audience might expect to oppose Jesus, come to worship him. Herod, king of the Jews, soon acts like Pharaoh of old—a pagan king. And while the Persian wise men go to worship Jesus, Israel’s Bible teachers and religious leaders of God’s people, who can even identify exactly where the Messiah will be born, fail to look for him.

“In the days of Herod the King” (Matthew 2:1)

Herod died in 4 B.C., and the events in this narrative occur at least two years earlier. Despite the best intention of our calendars, Jesus was born in 6 B.C. or earlier.

Herod was Idumean, a descendant of the ancient Edomites, and while he was Jewish in a general sense, he also built temples for pagan gods in areas dominated by his Gentile subjects, including temples for the supposedly divine emperor Augustus.

I should comment briefly about Herod’s relationship with this emperor. Herod’s political instincts were usually excellent, but he did make a few mistakes. One notable one was that he was friends with Marc Antony but enemies of Antony’s girlfriend Cleopatra. After Octavian (Augustus) defeated both Antony and Cleopatra, Herod suggested to him that, since Herod had been a faithful friend to Augustus’ enemy Antony to the end, Augustus could trust that Herod would also prove faithful to him as well. He did remain a faithful subject of Augustus from then on. The idea of new kings, however, would go over well neither with the Roman emperor nor with Herod himself.

Although the Bible condemned divination, including astrology, in this period even many Jewish people believed that stars could predict the future, at least for Gentiles. Astrology was considered the science of the day; later synagogues sometimes even included zodiacs on their floors with a picture of the sun god (used simply as a symbol for the sun, under God’s authority) in the middle. Rulers, however, got nervous about astrologers, especially when they started predicting new kings or (by implication) the demise of old ones. Emperors sometimes banished astrologers from Rome. When comets appeared, people expected kings to die. One later emperor, Nero Caesar, reportedly executed a number of nobles in hopes that their deaths, rather than his, would fulfill the warning of a comet. This may help us understand why Herod acted so paranoid.

 

Jesus as Immanuel: God with us

Matthew 1:23

Here, Matthew quotes Isaiah 7:14, which in Greek speaks of a virgin giving birth. Yet Matthew is probably also thinking of the verse’s larger context. In that context, Assyria would battle against Israel and Aram before the promised son was grown (Is 7:14-17); Isaiah says almost the same thing regarding his own son in the very next chapter (8:3-4). The son Isaiah refers to would be a sign to the king who was reigning in Isaiah’s own day.

What does this have to do with Jesus? In the next chapter, Isaiah declares that the names of his children are intended as signs pointing beyond themselves (8:18). To whom would “Immanuel,” or “God with us” (7:14), more aptly point than to the son of David rightly called “Mighty God” in the very next chapter, in Isaiah 9:6 (cf. 10:21; 11:1)?

Matthew does not think of “God with us” merely at Jesus’ birth, or during his earthly ministry, or in some abstract way. He revisits this issue toward the middle and end of his Gospel. In 18:20, Jesus announces, “Where two or three have come together in my name, I am in their midst.” In 28:18-20, Matthew’s Gospel closes with Jesus’ Great Commission. The final words indicate that as we continue carrying out this commission, Jesus will be with us: “I am always with you,” he declares, “even until the end of the age.” Jewish people understood that only God could be with them at all times. There could be no misunderstanding about who Jesus really is.

 

The virgin birth — Mary’s chastity

(This is a continuation of the notes for Matthew chapter 1.)

Jospeh and Mary give us an example of self-control.

Joseph and Mary were married. If they were like most new couples in their day, they probably had narrow living quarters together, perhaps in a makeshift dwelling on the roof of the groom’s parents’ home. People in antiquity often felt that if a young man and woman were alone together for an hour, they would end up having intercourse. Like many people today, many people back then thought that people were just like animals in heat, unable to control their sexual appetites.

This young couple puts to shame our excuses today. In addition to passion, they would have had another reason for intercourse, at least on the first night of the wedding feast. Couples proved the woman’s virginity by the blood on the sheet during their first intercourse (cf. Deut 22:15, 17). By having intercourse that night, Joseph and Mary could have proved that Mary was still a virgin. Yet they chose to abstain, valuing God’s honor above their own.

Why would they need to do this? So that Jesus would have not only a virgin conception but a virgin birth.

Sometimes when I have preached about Joseph’s righteous example of compassion, consecration, and especially self-control, people have felt guilty. At that point I like to remind them that this narrative addresses not only the righteous example of Joseph and Mary, but also includes another character: Jesus, who will save his people from their sins. Jesus came to deliver us from our old life of disobeying God to give us a new, forgiven life on God’s side. He is ready to be “with us”—we need only invite him.

 

 

The virgin birth — Joseph’s compassion and obedience

(This is a continuation of the notes for Matthew chapter 1.)

Matthew declares that Joseph was a “righteous man” (1:19); he is thus a positive example. (Ancient biographers and historians were concerned with providing moral examples, and Matthew is no exception.) In cases of adultery, divorce was mandatory under Jewish law; Roman law agreed. Joseph has grounds to believe that Mary was unfaithful; the question for him is thus not whether he should divorce Mary, but how he should do so.

By charging her before a judge, Joseph could publicly repudiate her pregnancy; he could reduce his dishonor by shaming her. He could also be certain to recoup any money that he had paid toward the marriage, though her shamed family might have returned that to him anyway. Once a father had given his daughter a dowry, her husband could keep the dowry if she were found unfaithful. Joseph has various possible incentives for divorcing her publicly.

But Joseph, being a righteous man, chose to divorce her privately instead. This means that he would give her a certificate of divorce in front of two or three witnesses, sparing her public shame. Even though he had every reason to believe that Mary had wronged him, and even though he would not marry her, he still cared about her honor.

Ancients took dreams very seriously, but this would be all the more true if someone important delivered a message in the dream. Gentiles told stories of deceased people appearing in dreams, but revelatory dreams in the Bible were normally from God or angels.

Joseph’s obedience to the dream is praiseworthy. Think about what he risked by marrying her, at least if anyone else knew that Mary was pregnant. People would assume that he had gotten her pregnant; Joseph would thus embrace her shame for the rest of his life. Whether or not anyone else knew, Joseph is ready to trust Mary based on what God has shown him. He is ready to follow wherever God leads his life.

 

The virgin birth — the betrothal of Joseph and Mary

(This is a continuation of the notes for Matthew chapter 1.)

One way that ancient biographers sometimes honored their subjects was by describing their virtuous background, and any extraordinary circumstances surrounding their births that could suggest divine interest. The parents who raised Jesus were certainly virtuous, and the birth described here is the most divine in all history. Scripture already noted miraculous births, such as those of Samson, Samuel, and especially Isaac, but no one else narrated a virgin birth. (By the way, against the protestations of some, Greek mythology included no virgin births. Gods seducing and raping virgins are an idea quite different from the virgin birth here—Mary is not impregnated and remains a virgin until after Jesus’ birth.)

Betrothal in ancient Israel meant more than engagement means today. Although the couple was not allowed to have intercourse until the end of the betrothal period (typically a year), they were pledged to each other by an agreement between their families. Jewish tradition suggests that betrothed couples in Galilee could not be together alone, unchaperoned, until the wedding. Betrothal normally included some economic arrangements; the groom might offer a down payment on the money he would pay the bride’s father for the marriage; this could help defray the father’s expense of having raised the groom’s future wife. In this period, the bride’s father also gave a gift of money to his daughter when she married to help provide for her (in the event of harm to the husband or divorce).

Betrothal could be broken only one of two ways: by means of divorce or one of the partners dying. Once an agreement was made between families, divorce was not normally desirable; if, however, the wife or fiancée was thought to have been unfaithful, this would shame the husband. This behavior would constitute a legal charge.

 

 

The birth of Jesus — women and gentiles highlighted in Matthew’s genealogy

(This is a continuation of the notes for Matthew chapter 1.)

Matthew highlights the diverse elements in Jesus’ background. Jesus identifies with Israel and comes as Israel’s king, but the Gentiles noted in his ancestry pave the way for an important theme in Matthew’s Gospel.

Happily, we would not omit women in our genealogies today; most ancient genealogies, however, did so. Had Matthew wanted to include the most prominent women in  his list, he could have included Israel’s most famous matriarchs: Sarah, Rebekah, Leah and (less directly relevant to Jesus’ line) Rachel. Instead, he highlights four women who were either Gentiles or had significant Gentile associations.

Tamar in 1:3 was a local Canaanite who bore Judah two sons; in Genesis 38, God vindicated her. Many of us are familiar with the story of Rahab in 1:5: she was a person in Jericho that God spared. In fact, the Book of Joshua has a large contrast between Rahab, who betrayed her people to serve Israel, and Achan of Judah, who betrayed his people Israel. Rahab hid spies on her roof; Achan hid loot under his tent. Rahab and her family were saved; Achan and his family were destroyed. The story shows that the issue is not one’s ethnicity or culture, but whether one is willing to be on God’s side. Matthew 1:5 also mentions Ruth. She was a Moabite, and Moabites were not allowed to join Israel to the tenth generation (Deut 23:3). Yet Ruth became part of Israel, and the immediate ancestor of King David; it was because she accepted the God of Israel. The fourth woman, Bathsheba, whom Matthew simply calls “Uriah’s widow” in 1:6, was probably an Israelite by birth, yet by marriage she took on an association with Gentiles: she had been the wife of “Uriah the Hittite.”

One purpose of Jewish genealogies was to highlight the purity of one’s Israelite ancestry. Why then does Matthew deliberately emphasize Gentiles in Jesus’ ancestry? Matthew wants us to see that God’s plan was for all peoples all along. There were hints of this in Jesus’ heritage: three ancestors of King David and the mother of King Solomon. This theme develops throughout Matthew’s Gospel—Magi from the east honor Jesus; a centurion displays exceptional faith, as does a Canaanite woman; Jesus’ Gentile execution squad becomes first to acknowledge him as God’s son after the cross; and so forth. The Gospel climaxes with a call to disciple all nations.

What does this emphasis have to say to us today? First, that God wants us to transcend ethnic, racial and cultural barriers. God’s love is not limited to a single group of people; he reached out to all of us, and invites us to do the same. Second, there is a mission emphasis in Matthew’s treatment of Gentiles. If we love all peoples, we must commit ourselves to reach all peoples with the good news about Jesus.

Matthew estimates three sets of fourteen generations, connecting significant events in Israel’s history: from Abraham to David; from David to the exile; and from the exile to Jesus.

Matthew’s point is not precise chronology: like genealogy writers in the Book of Chronicles, he feels free to skip less relevant generations. His point, rather, is that history moves in eras. God makes dramatic shifts in history at certain points. Israel had special experiences with God in the times of Abraham, David, and the exile. By the time Jesus was born, Israel was due, or past due, for another special experience in their history. Jesus was the climax of Israel’s history, the fulfillment of Israel’s hopes and the promises of the prophets. The God of history is still at work today, fulfilling his promises and reminding us of the salvation he brought us in Jesus.

 

Jesus as son of David, son of Abraham

(This is a continuation of the notes for Matthew chapter 1.)

Jesus’ genealogy will list many ancestors, but Matthew highlights in advance two particularly key points: David and Abraham.

As heir of David, Jesus is the promised king. Yet Jesus, David’s royal descendant, exercises authority far greater than David. The Gospel’s conclusion shows us that he is not only king over Israel, but has all authority in heaven and earth (28:18). Even already on earth, Jesus exercised special authority to help people. Thus blind people come to him pleading, “Son of David, have mercy on us!” (9:27; 20:30-31). His success in casting out demons leads others to suspect that Jesus is “son of David” (12:23), even in the case of a foreign woman who might otherwise not have submitted to Israel’s new king (15:22).

In the Old Testament, David did minimize the influence of evil spirits on Saul, and Jewish tradition made his son Solomon an exorcist. But why do even the blind hail Jesus as Son of David? David did not cure blindness. Jesus demonstrates authority far greater than David. Throughout Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus displays authority over sickness, spirits, seas and storms. We can trust him with the problems of our lives! Yet Jesus also invites the submission of followers under his authority. He is king not only of the natural world but rightful king of humanity. We can submit our lives to him, enrolling in his service.

The title “son of Abraham,” by contrast, may identify Jesus’ kinship with the rest of Israel. Thus Jesus will spend forty days tested in the desert like Israel spent forty years; Matthew will apply to Jesus biblical passages about Israel’s ideal mission. Matthew shows that Jesus identified with his people’s heritage and fulfilled what they could not fulfill on their own. Even more generally, we recognize that Jesus has embraced our common humanity; we do not suffer or celebrate alone, because he has shared our place. Beyond all this, it is possible that Jesus evokes Abraham’s mission in some way: it is clear from Genesis that the nations of the earth should be blessed in Abraham. In Matthew, Jesus becomes a blessing to the nations.