Sermon and Worship Resources

Isaiah 9:1-7 · To Us a Child is Born

1 Nevertheless, there will be no more gloom for those who were in distress. In the past he humbled the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the future he will honor Galilee of the Gentiles, by the way of the sea, along the Jordan-

2 The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.

3 You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy; they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest, as men rejoice when dividing the plunder.

4 For as in the day of Midian's defeat, you have shattered the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor.

5 Every warrior's boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire.

6 For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

7 Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David's throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.

Out of the Darkness

Isaiah 9:2-7

Sermon
by King Duncan

On April 14, 1865, Abraham Lincoln, the 16th President of the United States, was assassinated by a well-known actor named John Wilkes Booth. Lincoln was the first U.S. president to be assassinated, with his funeral and burial marking an extended period of national mourning.

Occurring near the end of the American Civil War, Lincoln’s assassination was part of a larger conspiracy intended by Booth to revive the Confederate cause by eliminating the three most important officials of the United States government. Two conspirators were assigned to kill Secretary of State William H. Seward. Another was assigned to kill Vice President Andrew Johnson. Except for Lincoln’s death, the plot failed: Seward was only wounded, and Johnson’s would-be attacker became drunk instead of killing the Vice President. After a dramatic initial escape, John Wilkes Booth was killed at the climax of a twelve-day chase. (1)

You may wonder what Lincoln’s assassination has to do with Christmas. I’m glad you asked. According to Dr. Ray Pritchard, the news of Lincoln’s death deeply troubled a young minister in Philadelphia named Phillips Brooks. When the slain president’s body lay in state in Independence Hall in Philadelphia, Brooks went to pay his respects.

“A few months later,” according to Prichard, “hoping to lift his spirits, the church sent [the young minister] to the Holy Land. The itinerary included a horseback ride from Jerusalem to Bethlehem on Christmas Eve . . .”

“Later that evening Phillips Brooks spent some time in the field where, according to tradition, the shepherds heard the announcement of Christ’s birth. Then he finished the day by attending the Christmas Eve service at the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem.”

Phillips Brooks was deeply touched by his experience in the Holy Land. Three years later he wrote a Christmas poem that reflected how much he was touched. Lewis Redner, the church organist, composed a melody to accompany Brooks’ poem. The result was a beloved Christmas carol that begins like this:

O little town of Bethlehem / How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep / The silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth / The everlasting Light
The hopes and fears of all the years / Are met in thee tonight. (2)

Imagine that! Out of a deep tragedy came a beautiful expression of faith.

Quite coincidentally, about that same time, in Germany, another favorite carol was being composed. It first appeared in a small Lutheran book of worship. Shortly thereafter, someone placed the name of Martin Luther on the bottom of the page. This led many people to think that Martin Luther composed the hymn. But Luther died two hundred years before this carol was written. Still, it is a beautiful expression of faith. It begins like this:

Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,
The little Lord Jesus lay down His sweet head.
The stars in the sky looked down where He lay,
The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay . . .” (3)

But that is not the end of the story. It was during this same time that the noted poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow found himself in a state of deep despair. It was Christmas day. But it was difficult for Longfellow to muster up any Christmas cheer. Not only was our nation involved in a bloody Civil War, but his wife had died a couple of years earlier in a household fire. He had tried to save her and was badly burned himself. Not only that but his son had joined the Union army without his permission and was severely wounded. Longfellow was nearly at his wit’s end. Yet it was on this day that he was able to write these profound words:

I heard the bells on Christmas day / Their old familiar carols play
And mild and sweet their songs repeat / Of peace on Earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head / “There is no peace on Earth,” I said
For hate is strong and mocks the song / Of peace on Earth, good will to men.

Such was the effect of the Civil War on poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow—deep dejection. But listen to Longfellow’s crowning refrain:

Then rang the bells more loud and deep, / God is not dead, nor doth He sleep
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail / With peace on Earth, good will to men.

Think about it, friends. Our nation was engaged in a terrible Civil War—brother against brother, neighbor against neighbor. And out of that turbulent time, some of our most beautiful Christmas hymns were being composed.

We worry about the divided state of our nation today, yet compared to that terrible time when an unparalleled amount of blood was being shed in our beloved land, that division is hardly worth contemplating. And yet, during that terrible time, the Spirit of God was leading men and women of sensitive spirits to write music that will forever warm hearts wherever Christian believers gather together to celebrate the Lord’s birth. There is a message here—a message of profound hope. Listen to the word for this day from Isaiah:

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned . . .”

Then further on we read: “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.”

Do you hear what the prophet is saying to us? No matter how dark the night, God will be with us. This is one of the great promises that God has made to His people. God is always with us in our times of darkness.

Have you ever been through a time of darkness? Most of us have at one time or another. This past couple of years has somewhat popped the balloon of some of us who are perpetual optimists. First, a pandemic, the likes of which we somewhat assumed we as a society were immune. More than six million dead worldwide thanks to the Covid virus. We’ve read of the black plague, the pandemic that ravaged Europe between 1347 and 1351, taking a proportionately greater toll of life than any other known epidemic or war up to that time. But that was during the Middle Ages for heaven’s sake! Science, we thought, had taken us so much further than that.

We’ve seen documentaries concerning smallpox, the epidemic which is estimated to have killed up to 300 million people in the 20th century alone. It was a terrible time for humanity. But that was before a British doctor named Edward Jenner discovered that milkmaids infected with a milder virus called cowpox seemed immune to smallpox. And soon we had the first mass vaccination. And smallpox was stopped in its tracks. No one fears smallpox anymore.

We thought we no longer had to dread the possibility of a worldwide epidemic, but the Covid virus kind of sneaked up on us. Darkness has a way of doing that to us.

Of course, darkness not only comes to us disguised as a dread disease. Whoever dreamed a little over a year ago that, thanks to Mr. Putin, the fears of a new Cold War would be rekindled in Europe, after a half century of relative peace and tranquility. Though it never got that far, suddenly we were reminded of the specter of nuclear annihilation. We dared hope the days of training our children to hide under their desks in case we were attacked by our enemies with the most powerful weapons ever created, were forever gone. Suddenly that sense of security was taken from us.

Some of us might remember a story by the creative novelist Kurt Vonnegut titled Cat’s Cradle written in the midst of that tense time. First published in 1963 this story showed a physicist who helped create the atomic bomb visiting his laboratory during the Christmas season.

Office employees are all standing around a crèche singing Christmas carols. They’re singing the carol that Phillips Brooks was inspired to write after his visit to the Holy Land:

“O little town of Bethlehem / How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep / The silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth / The everlasting Light
The hopes and fears of all the years / Are met in thee tonight.”

Concerning this scene, Christian author Philip Yancey asked, “Do the carolers really believe that the hopes and fears of all the years—which will vanish in a moment if someone presses the wrong button—rests on faith in a Bethlehem newborn destined to live only thirty-three years?” (4)

Yes, that is what we believe. The God of all creation came to a humble maiden in an obscure village called Nazareth and told her that she would bear a child. That child is the hope of this world.

Of course, that child is not only the hope of the world; he is the hope of each of us gathered here this day.

Just a few years ago a devoted pastor named Ron Mehl lost his twenty-three year long struggle with leukemia. He began his battle with this dread disease only seven years into a remarkable ministry at his church in Portland, Oregon. During the thirty years he was the pastor at this church it went from an attendance of twelve the first Sunday to a worshipping congregation of more than six thousand—at its height the largest congregation in Oregon. And did I mention that throughout his ministry, this devoted pastor wrote thirteen books, most of which were best sellers? Darkness can envelop all kinds of people—the righteous as well as those less virtuous.

A few years before his death, it became obvious the traditional cancer therapies were no longer working. Mehl’s doctors wanted him to try a new therapy that was still in the testing phase. It carried many risks. As Ron Mehl drove to the hospital in the early morning hours, he heard God speak these reassuring words to his heart, “Son, remember this. My promises are designed for the darkness.” Mehl held on to those words throughout his treatment. Before his death, Ron Mehl wrote, “Our hope is in God. He is awake; He is at work—and I would rather have His promises in the dark than all the lights of Las Vegas . . .”

“Here is the promise of Christmas, a promise made thousands of years ago, set in motion two thousand years ago, and a promise that will be brought to fulfillment someday when we least expect it: the Messiah has come to bring light to a dark world. He has planted the seeds of the kingdom of God in you and me, and in God’s chosen ones from every tribe and every nation. And someday, Jesus will come again to establish that kingdom eternally, and on that day there will be no more darkness because we will be the in presence of the Light of the world. ‘The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.’” (5)

1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Assassination_of_Abraham_Lincoln.

2. Dr. Ray Pritchard, https://www.keepbelieving.com/sermon/whos-in-charge-here/.

3. Edward F. Markquart, http://www.sermonsfromseattle.com/christmas_do_you_see.htm.

4. Cited in, Disappointment with God (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Publishing House, 1988).

5. Ron Mehl, What God Whispers in the Night (Sisters, OR: Multnomah Publishers, 2000), pp. 21-23.

ChristianGlobe Network, Inc., Dynamic Preaching Third Issue Sermons, by King Duncan

Overview and Insights · A Special Child is Coming (7:1–12:6)

Isaiah 7, 8, and 9 are united around the common theme of an expected special child. In Isaiah 7, the foolish King Ahaz of Judah refuses to trust in God for deliverance from the powerful Israelite-Syrian alliance against him, even though God offered him a sign. God gives him a sign anyway—a young woman (NIV, “virgin”) will give birth to a child called Immanuel (“God is with us”). Before the baby is very old, the alliance against Ahaz will be defeated. However, because of Ahaz’s unbelief, this sig…

The Baker Bible Handbook by , Baker Publishing Group, 2016

Isaiah 9:1-7 · To Us a Child is Born

2 The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.

3 You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy; they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest, as men rejoice when dividing the plunder.

4 For as in the day of Midian's defeat, you have shattered the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor.

5 Every warrior's boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire.

6 For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Commentary · The Messiah

In 733 BC, Tiglath-Pileser III besieged Damascus, invaded the region of Galilee, including Zebulun and Naphtali, and incorporated it into his kingdom (2 Kings 15:29) in fulfillment of God’s word. “Gloom” and “distress” result from oppression and separation from Yahweh’s covenantal love. But the Lord will graciously turn humiliation into glory. How? By the coming of the Messiah of David (9:1–7). Although the northern tribes have rejected David’s dynasty in favor of Jeroboam (1 Kings 12:1–20), their salvation will come from the very one whom they rejected. The new era will be characterized by great joy. The Messiah will free his people from their enemies and bring the actualization of the Davidic ideal. The child (9:6) is the Immanuel (7:14). He is God’s gift to humanity’s predicament. He is fully human (“child,” “born,” “son”), but he is also divine, with all the perfections of kingship in himself: supernatural wisdom, might, paternal beneficence, and peace. This son will reign forever in justice, righteousness, and peace. The certainty of his kingdom is guaranteed by “the zeal of the Lord” (9:7).

The Baker Illustrated Bible Commentary by Gary M. Burge, Baker Publishing Group, 2016

Isaiah’s Significance, and the Fall of Darkness: We come to the close of the material that focuses on the crisis presented by the pressure of the northern allies (6:1–9:7). Isaiah speaks further about his ministry and its significance for Judah (8:11–22) and Yahweh offers a vision of light dawning the other side of the coming darkness (9:1–7).

9:1–7 To close 6:1–9:7, light replaces darkness (v. 2), joy replaces death (v. 3), and deliverance replaces oppression (v. 4). An earlier vision pictured weapons destroyed (2:4); this vision pictures battle-clothing burnt (v. 5). Both houses of Israel were bringing trouble on themselves (8:14), but the people of the north most directly experienced the darkness of Assyria’s invasion. They will share in the renewal that will come to Jerusalem (e.g., 4:2–6). Indeed, where darkness first fell, there will light dawn.

The vision describes events as if they have already taken place or at least begun (including the whole of v. 6, despite NIV). It resembles a song of thanksgiving for what Yahweh has already done (cf. Isa. 12), until the promise in verse 7b makes explicit that in real time the whole lies in the future. Its reference to Yahweh’s zeal further illustrates the importance of Yahweh’s passion to Israel’s reaching its destiny (see on 5:25–30). The birth of another son, explicitly David’s rather than Isaiah’s, is the key to the move from death to life. The words in verse 6a are the words used to announce a child’s birth (cf. Jer. 20:15; Ruth 4:17). Does this imply two or three decades’ delay while this child grows up? Verses 6–7 resemble promises to a king at his accession, and promises to his people, to whom such words are indeed good news. Perhaps, then, this son’s “birth” is his accession, when God makes him a son (Ps. 2:7).

In one sense the promises simply picture what any king should be, an executor of justice and righteousness (see on 1:21) and a bringer of peace (see on v. 6b below), one who will bring a fulfillment of the vision underlying chapters 1–8 as a whole. Yet that also means that the promises go far beyond anything that any king ever achieved, or even sought. They are “messianic.” The basis for conviction that the vision will be fulfilled lies in the son’s name (v. 6b). Hebrew names of the kind that we have already met in Isaiah, such as Isaiah, Uzziah, Hezekiah, Shear-Jashub, MaherShalal-Hash-Baz, and Uriah generally have significant meanings. In all these cases, and most others, their significance does not lie in describing the person to whom the name belongs, but rather in something else to which they point. We have reckoned that this is also so with Immanuel (“God is with us”). It would thus be quite natural for this fourfold name in verse 6, too, to be a statement about God—and not a statement about this son. And this fits the meaning of the name.

Wonderful Counselor (lit. “wonder-planner,” i.e., “wonder-working planner”) immediately recalls Isaiah’s emphasis on Yahweh as one who effectively designs and implements a purpose (see on 5:19b, 26). It more specifically anticipates the description of Yahweh as wonderful in counsel (28:29; see also 25:1; 29:14). Mighty God recurs as a description of Yahweh in 10:21, but we have already seen the word for God (’el) in the name Immanuel, while 42:13 uses the word for mighty in describing Yahweh going out to battle like a champion. Everlasting Father recalls the book’s opening description of God as one who brought up children and had to watch them run away. In this son’s name it would also more pointedly recall Yahweh’s commitment to David’s line as father . . . for ever (Ps. 89:26, 29—the same words as here).

In the phrase Prince of Peace, the first word suggests an army commander (cf. Gen. 21:22; describing God, Dan. 8:11, 25). It thus links well with Mighty, and with Isaiah’s emphasis on Israel’s God being “Yahweh Armies,” as well as confronting by anticipation the boast of Assyria in 10:8. Unlike that of the Assyrians, this commander’s warmaking is destined to bring shalom. That suggests both an end to warmaking (cf. v. 5) and the broader wellbeing in all aspects of life suggested by the word—growth, blessing, joy, and fairness (see vv. 3, 7).

The son’s name asserts that these four phrases indeed express key truths about Yahweh, who is committed to working with him and through him so that his reign will bring peace and justice (v. 7). The book gives no indication who this son is. It gives no hint about a fulfillment in some contemporary figure. We may call it a messianic vision, but we need to remember that the OT does not use the word messiah for a future redeemer, nor does the promise give the impression of a figure not due to come for centuries. While the beginning of Jesus’ ministry recalls verses 1–2 (Matt. 4:13–16), the NT does not refer verses 6–7 to Jesus, and a reign of shalom and justice does not seem yet to have been implemented in the world—any more than it was in the time of Isaiah.

Christians will see what God did in Jesus as guaranteeing the vision’s fulfillment. In Jesus we see the evidence that the Mighty God really will bring to effect a wonderful purpose and that the Everlasting Father will act effectively as a commander, for the sake of people’s spiritual and physical well-being. But this is a judgment and a statement of hope based on what we know of Jesus rather than an exegetical judgment about the meaning of this passage. The passage is a vision of what God is committed to achieving through David’s line. It receives partial fulfillments in the achievements of kings such as Hezekiah and Josiah, and then a fulfillment in Jesus that is potentially final even if its potential remains unrealized. It thus still indicates the agenda to which God has made a commitment and gives human beings grounds for hope.

Additional Notes

9:1 Zebulun and Napthali occupied the Galilean mountains, north of the plain of Jezreel and west of Lake Galilee. The way of the sea suggests the area further west, on the Mediterranean. Along (or “beyond”) the Jordan suggests the area further east, north of and/or beyond Lake Galilee. Galilee of the Gentiles may be explained by 2 Kgs. 15:29, in the period that 6:1–9:7 addresses (see also 1 Kgs. 9:11).

9:4 The day of Midian’s defeat: see Judg. 6–8.

9:6 It is usually assumed that the name in v. 6b comprises a series of asyndetic phrases (so NIV) and describes the person named. The son then is the Wonderful Counselor. Christian claims that Jesus fulfills the vision of v. 6b can do justice to the designation Mighty God, but the difficulty comes with Everlasting Father, which hardly applies to Jesus. Conversely, a reading in the light of eighth-century B.C. Middle Eastern thinking can perhaps do justice to Everlasting Father as an extravagant OT description of a king’s relationship with his people, but Mighty God is unparalleled in the OT in such designations. Wildberger (Isaiah 1–12, p. 405) suggests it is based on Egyptian ways of speaking of the king, but even these hardly parallel such an extravagant description. It is difficult to know what the original hearers would have made of the words if this is how Isaiah meant them. It is significant that the Jewish exegetical tradition assumed that at least the first three phrases referred to God, though it took them as describing God as namer rather than as part of the name.

The Hb. of the first two phrases reads literally “Wonder planner, God warrior.” NIV wonderful counselor apparently takes the first phrase to mean “wonder of a planner.” If that is a natural rendering of the first phrase, the natural way for the prophet to expect people to understand the second is to take it to suggest “God of a warrior,” “God-like warrior” (rather than “warrior-like God,” presupposed by NIV). The plural of the phrase rendered Mighty God indeed appears in Ezek. 32:21 to mean “mighty leaders.” In isolation, the four terms would then be quite intelligible as descriptions of a hoped-for king.

But the recurrence of the phrase rendered “Mighty God” (’el gibbor) in 10:21 with definite reference to Yahweh makes it harder to accept that here the phrase means “God-like warrior” or that it refers to the promised king. Indeed, to say that someone is a “wonder of a planner” is to call him God-like (see on 5:8–24), and Wildberger (Isaiah 1–12, p. 403) argues strongly that the phrase must mean “Wonder-planner.” The basis for translating the second phrase “God-like warrior” then disappears. Even Father, let alone Everlasting Father, is not otherwise instanced as a title for a king.

There is a further point. Other names such as Isaiah, Shear-Jashub, and Immanuel comprise statements rather than merely strings of epithets. They mean “Yahweh [is] salvation,” “A remnant will return,” “God [is] with us.” It is natural also to assume that the designation of Yahweh in v. 6b is one or two statements. How to construe the statements is then open to discussion, as is the case with Maher-shalal-hash-baz (see Additional Note on 8:1). As the middle two phrases are the ones that apply most distinctively to God, we might take the four as a characteristic prophetic chiasm: “A Wonderful Counselor is the Mighty God; the Everlasting Father is a Prince of Peace.”

Understanding the Bible Commentary Series by John Goldingay, Baker Publishing Group, 2016

Dictionary

Direct Matches

Blood

The word for “blood” in the Bible is used both literally and metaphorically. “Blood” is a significant biblical term for understanding purity boundaries and theological concepts. Blood is a dominant ritual symbol in biblical literature. Blood was used in sacrifices and purification rites, and it was inherently connected to menstruation, animal slaughter, and legal culpability. Among the physical properties of blood are the ability to coagulate, the liquid state of the substance (Rev. 16:3 4), and the ability to stain (Rev. 19:13). Blood can symbolize moral order in terms of cult, law, and power.

The usage of blood in the OT is predominantly negative. The first direct mention of blood in the biblical text involves a homicide (Gen. 4:10). Henceforward, the shedding of human blood is a main concern (Gen. 9:6). Other concerns pertaining to blood include dietary prohibitions of blood (Lev. 17:10–12), purity issues such as the flow of blood as in menstrual blood (Lev. 15:19–24), and blood as a part of religious rites such as circumcision (Gen. 17:10–11; Exod. 4:24–26).

Leviticus 17:11 contains a central statement in the OT concerning the significant role of blood in the sacrificial system: “The life of a creature is in the blood.” Blood was collected from all animal sacrifices, and blood was poured onto the altar (Lev. 1:5).

The covenant with Abraham was sealed with a covenantal ritual (Gen. 15:10–21). Moses sealed the covenant between the Israelites and God with a blood ritual during which young Israelite men offered young bulls among other sacrifices as fellowship offerings (Exod. 24:5). Moses read the words of the Book of the Covenant and sprinkled the blood of the bulls on the people, saying, “This is the blood of the covenant that the Lord has made with you in accordance with all these words” (Exod. 24:7–8).

During the Passover observance at the time of the exodus, blood was placed on the sides and tops of the doorframes of the Hebrews (Exod. 12:7). Not only altars were sprinkled and thus consecrated with blood, but priests were as well. Aaron and his sons were consecrated by the application of blood to their right earlobe, thumb, and big toe, and the sprinkling of blood and oil on their garments (Exod. 29:20). On the Day of Atonement, the high priest entered the holy of holies and sprinkled blood on the mercy seat to seek atonement for the sins of the people (Lev. 16:15).

Many events in the passion of Christ include references to blood. During the Last Supper, Jesus redefined the last Passover cup: “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Matt. 26:28). Judas betrayed “innocent blood” (Matt. 27:4), and the money he received for his betrayal was referred to as “blood money” (Matt. 27:6). At Jesus’ trial, Pilate washed his hands and declared, “I am innocent of this man’s blood” (Matt. 27:24).

The apostle Paul wrote that believers are justified by the blood of Christ (Rom. 5:9). This justification or righteous standing with God was effected through Christ’s blood sacrifice (Rom. 3:25–26; 5:8). The writer of Hebrews stressed the instrumental role of blood in bringing about forgiveness (Heb. 9:22). In the picture of the ideal community of Christ, the martyrs in the book of Revelation are situated closest to the throne of God because “they triumphed over him [Satan] by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death” (Rev. 12:11). The blood of the Lamb, Christ, is the effective agent here and throughout the NT, bringing about the indirect contact between sinner and God.

David

The second king of Israel (r. 1010 970 BC), founder of a dynasty that continued with his son Solomon (r. 970–931 BC), who ruled all of Israel; subsequently the remaining “sons of David” ruled the southern kingdom, Judah, until 586 BC.

Human kingship is a late development in Israel, but a number of ancient texts anticipate the establishment of the institution (Gen. 17:6; Deut. 17:14–20) and specifically the rise of a king from Judah (Gen. 49:8–12; Num. 24:17). Thus, it is surprising that the first king of Israel is not from Judah, but from Benjamin. When the people ask Samuel for a king, he anoints Saul (1 Sam. 8–12), who proves to be a tremendous disappointment. He forfeits the establishment of his dynasty when he shows a lack of confidence in God by rashly offering prebattle sacrifices (13:13–14). God then rejects Saul as king because he does not execute God’s full judgment against the Amalekites as he knows he should (15:23).

Eventually Saul’s moment of judgment comes. Saul’s final battle is against the Philistines, the major foreign force still inside the borders of the promised land. Both Saul and Jonathan meet their end on Mount Gilboa, and David sings songs that express his sadness over their deaths (1 Sam. 31–2 Sam. 1).

Even with Saul out of the way, David’s rise to kingship is not easy. He is immediately crowned king of Judah (2 Sam. 2:1–7), but the northern tribes choose to follow Ish-Bosheth, the son of Saul. War erupts between the two kingdoms. Eventually, though, the powerful general Abner abandons his support of Saul’s son, sealing the end of that dynasty. Ish-Bosheth is killed by his own men, and soon David becomes king over all Israel (5:1–5).

David’s kingship leads to significant victories that, in essence, complete the conquest of Canaan by finally subduing all the internal enemies. His men take the city of Jerusalem from the Jebusites, and he makes it his capital (2 Sam. 5:6–16). He also defeats the Philistines, who have been a thorn in the side of Israel for years (2 Sam. 5:17–25; for other victories, see 8:1–14). In celebration, David brings the ark of the covenant to Jerusalem (2 Sam. 6).

The David narrative reaches its apex when God enters into a covenant with him that establishes his dynasty (2 Sam. 7; 1 Chron. 17). After David dies, his son will succeed him, and indeed his dynasty lasts for many hundreds of years (see below).

David is a good king, but not a perfect king. A turning point in his reign comes in 2 Sam. 11. Up to this point, David has been content with what God has given him. He does not grasp for anything that does not belong to him. However, when he sees the beautiful Bathsheba bathing, he sends messengers to bring her to his house, where the two have sexual intercourse and she becomes pregnant. In an attempt to conceal this sin of adultery, he orders the death of her husband, Uriah the Hittite. Thus, he adds the crime of murder to that of adultery.

David thinks that the sin is secret, but nothing is hidden from God, who sends his prophet Nathan to confront David (2 Sam. 12; cf. Ps. 51). The difference between Saul and David is not that the latter is perfect but rather that David, as opposed to Saul, repents when he sins. Thus, God allows his reign to continue. Even so, David feels the consequences of his sin. First, the son that Bathsheba bears from her illicit union with David is struck with illness and dies. And ever afterward, David’s family life is troubled, with great impact on the political life of Israel. Son is pitted against son (Amnon and Absalom [2 Sam. 13]), as well as son against father (Absalom and David [2 Sam. 15–18]). Absalom temporarily deposes his father from the throne, but David eventually regains the kingship, though at the cost of the heartbreaking loss of his son.

Even at the very end, there is conflict within David’s house. When David has grown old, another son, Adonijah, attempts to take the throne, with support from powerful people such as Joab and Abiathar. At the instigation of Bathsheba and Nathan, however, David places the son of his choosing, Solomon, on the throne (1 Kings 1). David then dies after a reign of forty-one years, seven in Hebron and the rest over all Israel (1 Kings 2:10–12).

David’s greatest legacy is the dynasty that bears his name. Beginning with Solomon, however, his successors do not continue his spiritual legacy. Although a number of kings do some good, only Hezekiah (r. 727–698 BC) and Josiah (r. 639–609 BC) are given unqualified approval. Eventually, the Davidic rule comes to an end in Jerusalem at the hands of the Babylonians (586 BC). But God is not done with his redemptive purposes, and his promise to David is that he will have a ruler on the throne “forever” (2 Sam. 7:16). The NT recognizes that Jesus Christ is the fulfillment of this promise. He is the greater son of David, the one who is the Christ or Messiah, the anointed king. Jesus is the one who reigns forever in heaven. The life and the rule of David foreshadow the messianic rule of Jesus Christ.

Father

People in the Bible were family-centered and staunchly loyal to their kin. Families formed the foundation of society. The extended family was the source of people’s status in the community and provided the primary economic, educational, religious, and social interactions.

Marriage and divorce. Marriage in the ancient Near East was a contractual arrangement between two families, arranged by the bride’s father or a male representative. The bride’s family was paid a dowry, a “bride’s price.” Paying a dowry was not only an economic transaction but also an expression of family honor. Only the rich could afford multiple dowries. Thus, polygamy was minimal. The wedding itself was celebrated with a feast provided by the father of the groom.

The primary purpose for marriage in the ancient Near East was to produce a male heir to ensure care for the couple in their old age. The concept of inheritance was a key part of the marriage customs, especially with regard to passing along possessions and property.

Marriage among Jews in the NT era still tended to be endogamous; that is, Jews sought to marry close kin without committing incest violations (Lev. 18:6 17). A Jewish male certainly was expected to marry a Jew. Exogamy, marrying outside the remote kinship group, and certainly outside the ethnos, was understood as shaming God’s holiness. Thus, a Jew marrying a Gentile woman was not an option. The Romans did practice exogamy. For them, marrying outside one’s kinship group (not ethnos) was based predominantly on creating strategic alliances between families.

Greek and Roman law allowed both men and women to initiate divorce. In Jewish marriages, only the husband could initiate divorce proceedings. If a husband divorced his wife, he had to release her and repay the dowry. Divorce was common in cases of infertility (in particular if the woman had not provided male offspring). Ben Sira comments that barrenness in a woman is a cause of anxiety to the father (Sir. 42:9–10). Another reason for divorce was adultery (Exod. 20:14; Deut. 5:18). Jesus, though, taught a more restrictive use of divorce than the OT (Mark 10:1–12).

Children and parenting. Childbearing was considered representative of God’s blessing on a woman and her entire family, in particular her husband. In contrast to this blessing, barrenness brought shame on women, their families, and specifically their husbands.

Children were of low social status in society. Infant mortality was high. An estimated 60 percent of the children in the first-century Mediterranean society were dead by the age of sixteen.

Ancient Near Eastern and Mediterranean societies exhibited a parenting style based on their view of human nature as a mixture of good and evil tendencies. Parents relied on physical punishment to prevent evil tendencies from developing into evil deeds (Prov. 29:15). The main concern of parents was to socialize the children into family loyalty. Lack of such loyalty was punished (Lev. 20:9). At a very early stage children were taught to accept the total authority of the father. The rearing of girls was entirely the responsibility of the women. Girls were taught domestic roles and duties as soon as possible so that they could help with household tasks.

Family identity was used as a metaphor in ancient Israel to speak of fidelity, responsibility, judgment, and reconciliation. In the OT, the people of Israel often are described as children of God. In their overall relationship to God, the people of Israel are referred to in familial terms—sons and daughters, spouse, and firstborn (Exod. 4:22). God is addressed as the father of the people (Isa. 63:16; 64:8) and referred to as their mother (Isa. 49:14–17).

The church as the family of God. Throughout his ministry, Jesus called his disciples to follow him. This was a call to loyalty (Matt. 10:32–40; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26), a call to fictive kinship, the family of God (Matt. 12:48–50; Mark 3:33–35). Jesus’ declaration “On this rock I will build my church” (Matt. 16:18) was preceded by the call to community. Entrance into the community was granted through adopting the values of the kingdom, belief, and the initiation rite of baptism (Matt. 10:37–39; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26, 57–63; John 1:12; 3:16; 10:27–29; Acts 2:38; 16:31–33; 17:30; Rom. 10:9). Jesus’ presence as the head of the community was eventually replaced by the promised Spirit (John 14:16–18). Through the Spirit, Jesus’ ministry continues in the community of his followers, God’s family—the church. See also Adoption.

Galilee

The northern region of Israel. Determining the region’s precise boundaries is difficult, but in Jesus’ time it appears to have encompassed an area of about forty-five miles north to south and twenty-five miles east to west, with the Jordan River and the Sea of Galilee forming the eastern border. Josephus divides the region into Upper and Lower Galilee. Upper Galilee contains elevations of up to about four thousand feet and is composed mostly of rugged mountains, while Lower Galilee reaches a maximum height of about two thousand feet and is characterized by numerous fertile valleys. Lower Galilee was the site of most of Jesus’ ministry.

Galilee appears several times in the OT (e.g., Josh. 20:7; 1 Kings 9:11; 1 Chron. 6:76). It was part of the land given to the twelve tribes (Josh. 19). Since Galilee was distant from Jerusalem, which played the most prominent part in Jewish history, much of its history is not mentioned in the OT. Many of the references that do occur are military references, such as Joshua’s defeat of the kings at the waters of Merom (Josh. 11:1 9) and the Assyrian removal of the northern kingdom of Israel (Isa. 9:1). However, its great beauty, particularly of mountains such as Carmel, Hermon, and Lebanon, was the source of numerous images and metaphors in the poetic and prophetic literature (e.g., Ps. 133:3; Isa. 33:9; 35:2; Jer. 46:18).

Galilee figures more prominently in the NT. Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and conducted much of his early ministry there. Luke specifically identifies Galilee as the place where Jesus’ ministry began before spreading to Judea (Luke 23:5; Acts 10:37). Galilee is also portrayed as the place where Jesus will reunite with his disciples following the resurrection (Mark 16:7) and where he gives them the Great Commission (Matt. 28:16–20).

Gentiles

The word “Gentiles” is often used to translate words meaning “nations” or “peoples.”

In general, within the OT, Gentiles are not God’s people. God chose Israel to be his people, not other nations (Deut. 7:6 8; 10:15; 26:18–19). Israelite ancestry determines membership in the covenant people. Some writings thus forbid Gentiles from becoming part of God’s people (Ezra 9–10; Neh. 13).

The OT more commonly envisions Gentiles experiencing covenant blessing through Israel if they functionally become Israelites by keeping the law, including the parts we understand as ceremonial-ritual law. The law is that special life-giving and regulating aspect of the covenant that God revealed to Israel, which defines Israel (Lev. 18:1–5; 20:22–26; Deut. 4:1–8, 32–40; 6:24–25; 8:1–6; 10:12–11:32; 30:11–20; Josh. 1:7–9; Neh. 9:29; Pss. 119; 147:19–20; Ezek. 20:9–13, 21).

Such law/Israel-centered conditions for Gentiles relate to a broader OT understanding: God will reach and restore the world through Israel, the locus of his saving activity. God will bless the nations in and through Abraham’s descendants, Israel (Gen. 12:1–3; 17:4–6; 22:18; 26:4; 28:14). This covenant specifically involves keeping the law (e.g., circumcision [Gen. 17:9–14]). Some passages depict this happening through the nations being subject to Israel (Gen. 49:8–12; Num. 24:9, 17–19; Isa. 11:10–16; 14:2; 54:3). In other passages the nations will be blessed by Israel’s God as they come to Israel, bring back exiled Israel, serve Israel, present Israel with their own wealth, and/or fear Israel’s God (Isa. 45:23; 49:22–23; 51:4–5; 55:5; 60:3–16; 61:5–6; 66:12–13, 18–21; Mic. 7:12–17; Zech. 2:11; 8:22–23). Other passages further elucidate the law-defined nature of such Gentile participation in the God of Israel’s salvation (Exod. 12:48; Isa. 56:1–8; Jer. 12:14–17; Zech. 14:16–21). The portrait of the nations “flowing” up the mountain of God associates Gentile participation in God’s salvation explicitly with the law (Isa. 2:2–5; Mic. 4:1–5).

Situating Jesus and early Christianity within this matrix of Gentile sensitivities is illuminating. As the Jesus movement spread across the Mediterranean, proclaiming the ultimate salvation of the God of Israel in and through Jesus the Messiah, questions about how Gentiles experience this salvation of the Jewish God had paramount importance.

Some Christians, in line with traditional readings of the OT, thought that Gentiles must keep the law, becoming Jews to experience the God of Israel’s salvation in Jesus (Acts 11:1–3; 15:1, 5; Paul’s opponents in Galatia). Gentiles, after all, were separated from God and his salvation promises to Israel (Rom. 9:4–5; Eph. 2:11–13; 1 Pet. 2:10). They stood under God’s condemnation, especially because they were controlled by their passions and sin, lacking self-mastery and the ability to live rightly (Rom. 1:18–32; Eph. 4:17–19; 1 Thess. 4:5; 1 Pet. 1:14, 18).

However, various NT authors, such as Paul, contend that Gentiles need not keep the law, functionally becoming Jews, in order to participate in God’s ultimate salvation in Jesus. Christ, the climax of Israel itself, has replaced the law’s centrality and ultimacy with himself and his death and resurrection (Rom. 10:4). Through being united to Christ by the Spirit, Gentiles are, apart from the law, grafted into true, redefined Israel and become Abraham’s descendants, inheriting God’s promised salvation for Israel (Rom. 3:21–4:25; 8:1–17; 9:30–10:17; 11:13–32; Gal. 2:11–4:7; Eph. 2:11–22; 3:4–6). In Christ, by the Spirit, Gentiles attain self-mastery over their passions and sin and thus live rightly before God, inheriting the kingdom of God in Christ (Rom. 6:1–8:30; 1 Cor. 6:9–11; Gal. 5:16–26; 1 Thess. 4:3–8). Various NT writings thus reconfigure the situation of Gentiles with respect to Israel’s God because of what God did in Christ.

Debates about Gentiles, the law, salvation, and what Christ means for these issues persisted after Paul. Early Christians lacked an unequivocal saying from Jesus on the matter, and not all accepted Paul and some other NT writings.

Harvest

The harvest was a major event on the yearly calendar of Israel’s agrarian society (Lev. 25:11; Judg. 15:1; Ruth 1:22; 2 Sam. 21:9 10). Life was dependent on the harvest. As a result, God set certain rules with respect to the harvest to help the Israelites keep proper priorities. Every seven years and every fiftieth year, the people were to give the land a rest (Exod. 23:10; Lev. 25:20–22). The people were to rest on the Sabbath, even during the harvesttime (Exod. 34:21). Some portions of crops were to be left in the field so that the poor might have food (Lev. 19:9; 23:22; Deut. 24:21). The people were to acknowledge God as the source of the harvest by offering the first of the produce (Lev. 23:10). Celebrating the harvest was commanded (Exod. 23:16; Deut. 16:15; Isa. 9:3). Planning for the harvest was a mark of wisdom (Prov. 6:8; 10:5; 20:4). Even as a good harvest was the blessing of God (Ps. 67:6; Isa. 62:9), so a bad harvest was a curse from God and the plight of a fool (1 Sam. 12:17; Job 5:5; Prov. 26:1; Isa. 18:4–5; Jer. 8:13, 20; Joel 3:12; Mic. 6:15). Failure to acknowledge God for the harvest was a sin (Jer. 5:24).

The harvest is often used in Scripture as an analogy. The prophets talk about the negative harvest of idolatry (Isa. 17:11). Israel is called the firstfruits of God’s harvest (Jer. 2:3). Hosea uses the idea of harvest to indicate that God’s people have a future (Hos. 6:11). In the Gospels, the harvest is used as an analogy for those needing to hear the good news (Matt. 9:37–38), for the end times (Matt. 13:24–30; Rev. 14:15), and for a lesson about unfaithful leadership (Matt. 21:33–46; 25:24). In the remainder of the NT, the harvest analogy usually refers to Christian growth and salvation (Rom. 1:13; 1 Cor. 9:10–11; 2 Cor. 9:10; Gal. 6:9; Heb. 12:11; James 3:18).

Judgment

Of several Hebrew words for “judgment,” two are important here.

The word shepet is used of God, who brings the judgments upon the Egyptians in the plagues (Exod. 6:6; 7:4; 12:12). Ezekiel prophesies God’s judgment on Israel and other nations (e.g., Ezek. 5:10; 16:41; 25:11). The word is also applied to human beings, as the Syrians execute judgment on Israel (2 Chron. 24:24).

The most frequent noun is mishpat. Abraham is noted for mishpat, “judgment/justice” (Gen. 18:19). God by attribute is just (Gen. 18:25); he shows justice toward the orphan and the widow (Deut. 10:18) and brings judgment on behalf of the oppressed (Ps. 25:9). At the waters of Marah, God makes a judgment, an ordinance for the people (Exod. 15:25). Similarly, the mishpatim, “judgments/ordinances,” become law for life in Israel (Exod. 21:1). In making judicial judgments, the Israelites are to be impartial (Lev. 19:15), and they are to use good judgment and justice in trade (Lev. 19:35; Prov. 16:11). Israel will be judged for rejecting God’s judgments (Ezek. 5:7 8) and worshiping false gods (Jer. 1:16). Those accused of crime will come to judgment/trial (Num. 35:12). The children of Israel come to their judges for judgment (Judg. 4:5). God will bring each person to a time of judgment regarding how his or her life is spent (Eccles. 11:9).

One key word in the NT is krisis. It has a range of meaning similar to mishpat. In the NT, judgment is rendered for thoughts and words as well as deeds (Matt. 5:21–22; 12:36). Future, eschatological judgment is a key theme for Jesus (Matt. 10:15; 11:22, 24; 12:42), Paul (2 Thess. 1:5), and other NT writers (Heb. 9:27; 10:27; 2 Pet. 2:9; 3:7; 1 John 4:17; Jude 15; Rev. 14:7). Jesus himself will be the judge (John 5:22). The only way to avoid condemnation is by having eternal life in the Messiah (John 5:24).

Another key word in the NT is krima. It may refer to condemnation (Matt. 7:2; Rom. 3:8) or to judgment, again including the eschatological judgment (Acts 24:25). Krima is the word most frequently used by Paul. He also often presents judgment as already realized (e.g., Rom. 2:2–3; 5:16). In the later epistles judgment may be realized as well (2 Pet. 2:3; Jude 4). James points out that not many should presume to be teachers, because they will be judged more strictly (James 3:1).

Justice

The concept of justice pervades the Bible, especially, though not exclusively, the OT. The biblical concept of justice is an embodiment of two contemporary concepts: righteousness and justice. The former designates compliance with the divine norm, while the latter emphasizes conformity to a societal standard of what is right and equitable. Focusing exclusively on the latter hinders the correct understanding of justice in the biblical sense.

The source of justice is God himself. It flows from his essential character as one who is both just and righteous, whose actions are flawless, perfect, upright, and just (Deut. 32:4; 1 Sam. 12:7; 2 Sam. 22:31; Job 37:23; Ps. 89:14). God is the righteous lawgiver, hence the one who establishes the norm for right conduct (Deut. 4:4 8; Ps. 19:7–9). He requires justice of all his creatures (cf. Gen. 9:5–6; Exod. 21:12, 28–29). God also judges righteously (Gen. 18:25; 1 Kings 8:32; Ps. 9:4, 9; Jer. 9:24) and defends and vindicates the weak and oppressed (Deut. 10:18; Ps. 103:6). The responsibility of maintaining justice in the human community, however, he delegates to its leaders, such as civil magistrates or political officials, and requires them to execute this responsibility with integrity, equity, and impartiality (Deut. 1:16–17; 16:18–20; Ps. 82:2–4; Prov. 31:8–9; John 7:24; 1 Pet. 2:13–14). God’s requirement of justice in the human community is not limited to its leaders only; it is incumbent upon everyone therein (Ps. 15:1–5; Mic. 6:8; Zech. 7:9; 8:17; Matt. 23:23).

Kingdom

A kingdom signifies the reality and extent of a king’s dominion or rule (Gen. 10:10; 20:9; Num. 32:33; 2 Kings 20:13; Esther 1:22). Some kingdoms were relatively small; others were concerted attempts to gain the whole world.

A kingdom presupposes monarchy, rule by an individual, human authority. Although kings only have as much authority as their armies and the general populace allow, they nevertheless exercise an almost absolute power, which invites either profound humility or hubris. Royal arrogance, unfortunately, is the primary motif characterizing kings in the Bible (e.g., Dan. 3).

God originally intended Israel to be governed as a theocracy, ruled by the one, true, living God (but see Gen. 17:6; Deut. 17:14 20). Israel was to be a “kingdom of priests” (Exod. 19:6), but the people demanded a king (1 Sam. 8:1–22). However, even when God granted their request, God remained King over the king and even retained ownership of the land (Lev. 25:23, 42, 55). The Israelite king was nothing more than God’s viceroy, with delegated authority. With few exceptions, most of the kings of Israel and Judah were corrupted by authority and wealth and forgot God (1 Sam. 13:13–14; 15:28; Matt. 14:6–11). But God made a covenant with David, so that one of his descendants would become a coregent in a restored theocracy, the kingdom of God (2 Sam. 7:1–29; Pss. 89:3; 132:11). In contrast to David’s more immediate descendants, this coming king would return to Jerusalem humble and mounted on a donkey (Zech. 9:9; cf. Isa. 62:11). The Gospels present Jesus Christ as this king (Matt. 21:1–9 pars.). Those who are likewise humble will inherit the land with him (Matt. 5:5).

Land

Israel shared the cosmology of its ancient Near Eastern neighbors. This worldview understood the earth as a “disk” upon the primeval waters (Job 38:13; Isa. 40:22), with the earth having four rims or “corners” (Ps. 135:7; Isa. 11:12). These rims were sealed at the horizon to prevent the influx of cosmic waters. God speaks to Job about the dawn grasping the edges of the earth and shaking the evil people out of it (Job 38:12 13).

Israel’s promised land was built on the sanctuary prototype of Eden (Gen. 13:10; Deut. 6:3; 31:20); both were defined by divine blessing, fertility, legal instruction, secure boundaries, and were orienting points for the world. Canaan was Israel’s new paradise, “flowing with milk and honey” (Exod. 3:8; Num. 13:27). Conversely, the lack of fertile land was tantamount to insecurity and judgment. As Eden illustrated for Israel, any rupture of relationship with God brought alienation between humans, God, and the land; this could ultimately bring exile, as an ethically nauseated land “vomits” people out (Lev. 18:25, 28; 20:22; see also Deut. 4; 30).

For Israel, land involved both God’s covenant promise (Gen. 15:18–21; 35:9–12) and the nation’s faithful obedience (Gen. 17:1; Exod. 19:5; 1 Kings 2:1–4). Yahweh was the earth’s Lord (Ps. 97:5), Judge (Gen. 18:25), and King (Ps. 47:2, 7). Both owner and giver, he was the supreme landlord, who gifted the land to Israel (Exod. 19:5; Lev. 25:23; Josh. 22:19; Ps. 24:1). The land was God’s “inheritance” to give (1 Sam. 26:19; 2 Sam. 14:16; Ps. 79:1; Jer. 2:7). The Levites, however, did not receive an allotment of land as did the other tribes, since God was their “portion” (Num. 18:20; Ps. 73:26). Israel’s obedience was necessary both to enter and to occupy the land (Deut. 8:1–3; 11:8–9; 21:1; 27:1–3). Ironically, the earth swallowed rebellious Israelites when they accused Moses of bringing them “up out of a land flowing with milk and honey” (Num. 16:13). As the conquest shows, however, no tribe was completely obedient, taking its full “inheritance” (Josh. 13:1).

Light

God begins his creation with light, which precedes the creation of sun, moon, and stars and throughout Scripture is an unqualified good (Gen. 1:3 5, 15–18; Exod. 10:23; 13:21). In the ancient world, people rarely traveled at night and usually went to bed soon after sunset. The only light in the home was a small oil lamp set on a stand, which burned expensive olive oil. Light is a biblical synonym for life (Job 3:20; John 8:12). Seeing the light means living (Ps. 49:19; see also Job 33:30). Conversely, darkness is often a symbol of adversity, disaster, and death (Job 30:26; Isa. 8:22; Jer. 23:12; Lam. 3:2).

John, who offers perhaps the most profound meditations on light, claims that God is light (1 John 1:5). The predicate appropriates the intrinsic beauty of light, a quality that draws people’s hearts back to the author of beauty. For the apostle, light represents truth and signifies God’s will in opposition to the deception of the world (John 1:9; 12:46). Light stands for purity and signifies God’s holiness as opposed to the unrighteousness of the world (John 3:19–21). Light is where God is, and it radiates from the place of fellowship between God and his creation (John 1:7).

Midian

Midian was one of the sons of Abraham by his wife Keturah (Gen. 25:1 2). Just before dying, Abraham leaves everything to Isaac and sends Midian and his brothers away “to the land of the east” (25:5–6). The biblical narrative regards him as the progenitor of the Midianites, who inhabited what is now southern Jordan and northern Saudi Arabia. The relations between the Israelites and the Midianites over the next centuries are generally adversarial. Moses’ experience is the exception: after fleeing Egypt, Moses arrives in Midian, marries a Midianite woman, and has an amicable relationship with Jethro, her father (also named Reuel), who was also a priest (Exod. 2–3). Jethro even accompanies the Israelites during part of their wilderness wanderings and gives Moses advice on leading the people (Exod. 18).

Naphtali

The tribe descended from Naphtali, son of Jacob and Bilhah. This tribe settled in northern Israel, east of Asher and south of Dan, not far from the Sea of Kinnereth (Sea of Galilee). It is noted that, like other tribes, it failed to completely drive out the Canaanites in its designated territory, which contributed to the difficulties that the nation experienced after the passing of Joshua’s generation (Judg. 1:33). Naphtali has a quiet history in Scripture but is mentioned in the prophecy of Isa. 9:1 7, which Matthew cites in connection with Jesus’ ministry in Galilee (Matt. 4:12–17). Ezekiel also describes an assigned land area for Naphtali in his temple vision (Ezek. 48:3–4).

Righteousness

Righteousness is an important theme in both Testaments of the Bible. The concept includes faithfulness, justice, uprightness, correctness, loyalty, blamelessness, purity, salvation, and innocence. Because the theme is related to justification, it has important implications for the doctrine of salvation.

Being careful to avoid imposing Western philosophical categories onto OT texts, we may say that the core idea of righteousness is conformity to God’s person and will in moral uprightness, justness, justice, integrity, and faithfulness. Behind the many and varied uses of righteousness language in the OT stands the presupposition that God himself is righteous in the ultimate sense (e.g., Ezra 9:15; Isa. 45:21; Zeph. 3:5). Righteousness is the expression of his holiness in relationship to others (Isa. 5:16), and all other nuances of righteousness in the biblical texts are derived from this.

Related to humans, righteousness is often found as the opposite of wickedness. Righteousness often occurs in evaluative contexts, where it relates to proper conduct with respect to God, the order of the world as he created it, the covenant, or law (e.g., Deut. 6:25). God reigns in righteousness and justice (e.g., Ps. 97:2), and humans should align their conduct with this righteous reign. Righteousness can be expressed as personal integrity with phrases such as “my righteousness” (2 Sam. 22:21, 25; Ps. 7:8) and “their righteousness” (1 Sam. 26:23). Unrighteousness is found in poetic parallel to injustice (e.g., Jer. 22:13); the unjust are parallel with the wicked (Ps. 82:2).

Righteousness language is more rare in the Gospels than one might expect in light of OT and Jewish intertestamental usage. These references fit with the Jewish setting: righteousness is required of God’s people, and unrighteousness is to be avoided. Righteousness is proper conduct with respect to God or Torah (Matt. 21:32) in contrast to wickedness (Matt. 13:49). Righteousness could be conceived as one’s own (e.g., Luke 18:9) and has its reward (Matt. 10:41). While the specific terms related to righteousness are infrequent in the Gospels, the broader concept of conformity to God’s will is widely apparent in calls for repentance, personal moral uprightness, mercy, and concern for the marginalized. The NT Epistles continue these general strands of the concept. Righteousness is related to personal conduct (1 Thess. 2:10; 1 Tim. 6:11; 2 Tim. 2:22; 1 Pet. 2:24) and is contrasted with wickedness (2 Cor. 6:14); it is a matter of doing, not knowing (Rom. 2:13). An example of righteousness in doing is the kindness shown by the prostitute Rahab, who hid the Israelite spies (James 2:25).

The NT does signal some new dimensions related to righteousness. In the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5 7), Jesus extends the requirements of righteousness to conformity to his own teaching and directives, a shocking display of authority. In his mission to call sinners rather than the “righteous” (e.g., Mark 2:17), Jesus implicitly questions the righteousness of the “righteous.” In similar manner, personal righteousness in terms of a righteousness of one’s own is negative in the NT (Rom. 10:3; Phil. 3:6; cf. Luke 18:9).

The NT continues the OT theme of righteousness as it relates to God himself. God is righteous (John 17:25; Rom. 3:5; 9:14; Heb. 6:10; cf. Matt. 6:33). His judgments are righteous (Rom. 2:5), and his commands and laws are righteous (Rom. 7:12; 8:4). God is a righteous judge (2 Tim. 4:8). His saving activity is righteous; he does not compromise his own justice in justifying the ungodly (Rom. 3:24–26). The righteousness of God is contrasted with human unrighteousness and wickedness (Rom. 3:5; James 1:20). Since God reigns over creation in righteousness, human conduct should conform to that standard (e.g., Rom. 14:17). Jesus is also noted as righteous (Acts 3:14; 7:52; 22:14; 1 Pet. 3:18; 1 John 2:1, 29). He fulfilled righteousness in the absolute sense of demonstrating complete conformity to the nature and will of God (e.g., 1 Pet. 3:18). He also fulfilled God’s righteousness in the sense of his saving activity toward humans (e.g., 2 Pet. 1:1).

Rod

A wooden walking stick that could have various functions. In ancient times, people did considerable amounts of walking. The ground in Israel is very uneven and rocky, making a walking stick a useful item (Gen. 32:10; Matt. 10:10). It is likely that walking sticks were customized so that they could serve as identification (Gen. 38:25).

Besides their utilitarian purpose, a rod or staff also came to denote an office and/or one’s authority. Military figures carried staffs that indicated their status (Judg. 5:14), and Gen. 49:10 predicts that the ruler’s staff will not depart from the tribe of Judah. Shepherds also carried a staff (Ps. 23:4; Mic. 7:14).

Sometimes a staff signified the presence of God with an individual. It was symbolic of the tree from which it was made, and a tree sometimes symbolically represented God. For this reason, some divine signs are associated with a raised staff. This was the case of Aaron’s staff. The Red Sea split after Moses extended his rod, and the Israelites had the better of the Amalekites on the battlefield as long as Moses kept the rod above his head. See also Aaron’s Rod.

Yoke

A wooden crosspiece fastened to the neck and shoulders of one or, more often, two animals (e.g., 1 Sam. 6:7) to facilitate labor. Yokes were also used by individuals to balance a load suspended from the shoulders (Num. 4:10, 12; 13:23). As such, the yoke also functioned as a symbol of subjection (Gen. 27:40; Lev. 26:13; Deut. 28:48; Jer. 27:2 7; Gal. 5:1; 1 Tim. 6:1), sometimes of joint labor (2 Cor. 6:14; Phil. 4:3), and is closely associated with pairs of animals (Luke 14:19; 1 Sam. 11:7). See also Weights and Measures.

Zebulun

Descended from the tenth son of Jacob, Zebulun, this tribe did not drive out the Canaanites but instead subjected them to forced labor (Judg. 1:30). During the wilderness journey this tribe was one of the foremost in marching order, along with the tribes of Judah and Issachar. It responded to Gideon’s summoning (Judg. 6:35) and also helped to enthrone David in Hebron (1 Chron. 12:33). It was later dispossessed by the Assyrians under Tiglath-pileser III (744 727 BC). Matthew 4:13–16 points to Jesus’ ministry in the regions of Zebulun and Naphtali in Galilee as the fulfillment of Isa. 9:1–2.

Direct Matches

Boot

The Hebrew word seon, translated “boot,” occurs only in Isa. 9:5. Likely related to an Akkadian word, it may have referred specifically to the footgear of the Akkadian-speaking Assyrian army, as opposed to the footgear of the Israelite army.

Darkness

At the beginning of creation, the darkness “over the surface of the deep” is not a primordial principle of chaos to be combated by God (as sometimes suggested), but simply something that prepares for his creation of light in Gen. 1:3. The “thick and dreadful darkness” that came over sleeping Abram (Gen. 15:12) was an indicator of the reception of a mysterious divine revelation involving a manifestation of God in the form of a smoking fire pot and a blazing torch (15:17). Likewise, the thick cloud and darkness that shrouded Mount Sinai (Deut. 4:11; 5:23; Ps. 18:7–10) was a sign of God’s presence and also hid him from the sight of the Israelites.

A plague of darkness was inflicted on Egypt as a prelude to the exodus deliverance (Exod. 10) and made darkness a sign and symbol of God’s judgment. In prophetic teaching, the coming “day of the Lord” in judgment upon Israel and the nations is “a day of darkness and gloom” (Joel 2:2, 31; Amos 5:18–20; Zeph.1:14–15). The wicked will be thrust into darkness (Prov. 4:19; Isa. 8:22). Jesus used such imagery when speaking of punishment in hell (e.g., Matt. 22:13; 25:30). The moral life of a believer involves turning away from deeds of darkness (Eph. 5:8–11; 1 Thess. 5:4–8).

Darkness is associated with Sheol and death (e.g., Job 10:21; 17:13) and so also becomes a metaphor of a situation of distress, especially life-threatening danger (Ps. 107:10, 14). In contrast, the dispelling of darkness becomes a metaphor of God’s saving help in Isa. 9:2: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light” (cf. Isa. 10:17). That salvation will include the provision of a future Davidic ruler (Isa. 9:6–7), so that the coming of Jesus is the dawning of light (John 1:5; 12:35).

This rich OT background gives a context to the three-hour period of darkness as Jesus hung on the cross (Matt. 27:45). This began at the sixth hour (i.e., noon) and signaled that the judgment day was taking place as Jesus suffered in the place of sinners (cf. Amos 8:9).

Galilee

The northern region of Israel. The name can mean “circle,” “region,” or “district.” Determining the region’s precise boundaries is difficult, but in Jesus’ time it appears to have encompassed an area of about forty-five miles north to south and twenty-five miles east to west, with the Jordan River and the Sea of Galilee forming the eastern border. Josephus divides the region into Upper and Lower Galilee. Upper Galilee contains elevations of up to about four thousand feet and is comprised mostly of rugged mountains, while Lower Galilee reaches a maximum height of about two thousand feet and is characterized by numerous fertile valleys. Lower Galilee was the site of most of Jesus’ ministry.

Galilee appears several times in the OT (e.g., Josh. 20:7; 1 Kings 9:11; 1 Chron. 6:76). It was part of the land given to the twelve tribes (Josh. 19). Since Galilee was distant from Jerusalem, which played the most prominent part in Jewish history, much of its history is not mentioned in the OT. Many of the references that do occur are military references, such as Joshua’s defeat of the kings at the waters of Merom (Josh. 11:1–9) and the Assyrian removal of the northern kingdom of Israel (Isa. 9:1). However, its great beauty, particularly of mountains such as Carmel, Hermon, and Lebanon, was the source of numerous images and metaphors in the poetic and prophetic literature (e.g., Ps. 133:3; Isa. 33:9; 35:2; Jer. 46:18).

Harvest

The harvest was a major event on the yearly calendar of Israel’s agrarian society (Lev. 25:11; Judg. 15:1; Ruth 1:22; 2 Sam. 21:9–10). Life was dependent on the harvest. As a result, God set certain rules with respect to the harvest to help the Israelites keep proper priorities. Every seven years and every fiftieth year, the people were to give the land a rest (Exod. 23:10; Lev. 25:20–22). The people were to rest on the Sabbath, even during the harvesttime (Exod. 34:21). Some portions of crops were to be left in the field so that the poor might have food (Lev. 19:9; 23:22; Deut. 24:21). The people were to acknowledge God as the source of the harvest by offering the first of the produce (Lev. 23:10). Celebrating the harvest was commanded (Exod. 23:16; Deut. 16:15; Isa. 9:3). Planning for the harvest was a mark of wisdom (Prov. 6:8; 10:5; 20:4). Even as a good harvest was the blessing of God (Ps. 67:6; Isa. 62:9), so a bad harvest was a curse from God and the plight of a fool (1 Sam. 12:17; Job 5:5; Prov. 26:1; Isa. 18:4–5; Jer. 8:13, 20; Joel 3:12; Mic. 6:15). Failure to acknowledge God for the harvest was a sin (Jer. 5:24).

Land of Israel

The land of Israel is strategically located on a land bridge between significant geopolitical powers. About the size of New Jersey, it is geographically diverse, ranging from fertile mountains in northern Galilee to the arid Negev steppe. It was indeed the “testing ground of faith” in which God planted his people.

The “Land Between”

The Mediterranean Sea to the west and the great Arabian Desert to the east confined the flow of military and commercial traffic to this land bridge. Throughout most of Israel’s history, Egypt and the succession of political entities in Mesopotamia were intent on expanding their empires; Israel was in between. To a lesser extent, this also involved invaders coming from or through Anatolia (modern Turkey).

The sea and the desert also affect the weather patterns as Israel is dependent on rainfall in the winter months and dew in the summer for its continued agricultural fertility. The promises regarding the “early and latter rains” (autumn and spring) indicate blessing (Deut. 11:14; Jer. 5:24; Joel 2:23). The prospects of drought and famine hover over the land. These vulnerabilities to enemy attack and potential lack of rainfall figure prominently in God’s challenge to faithful obedience (Deut. 11:10–17; 28:25).

Geographical Regions

There are four north-south longitudinal zones that help to define the geography of Israel. From west to east, they are the coastal plain, the hill country, the Jordan Rift Valley, and Trans-jordan. South of these zones lies the Negev, a marginal region between Israel proper and Sinai.

Coastal plain. The coastal plain extends almost the entire length of Israel, with the exception of Mount Carmel’s promontory, jutting out into the Mediterranean Sea. Because of the straight coastline, there are no natural good harbors as there are farther north in Lebanon. This region characteristically was controlled by more cosmopolitan and generally hostile non-Israelites, the most notable being the Philistines in the south. As a result of these factors, the Israelites generally were not a seafaring people, and in fact they seemed to view the sea as a place of chaos and danger (e.g., Pss. 42:7; 74:13–14; Jon. 2:2–7).

Much of the coastal plain was swampy in antiquity due to calcified sandstone ridges along the coastline that prevented runoff from the hills from flowing unimpeded into the sea. In addition, sand dunes along the coast were obstacles to travel. Because this region was relatively flat and easily traversed along the eastern edge, the International Coastal Highway skirted the swamps and dunes and carried the major traffic through the land. Erosion from the hill country to the east brought excellent soil to the plain. Once the swamps were drained in the twentieth century, the plains became fertile farming areas.

The coastal plain has significant subdivisions. To the north of Mount Carmel, the Plain of Akko includes a crescent-shaped area around the city of Akko and extends to Rosh HaNikra, a promontory at the boundary with Lebanon. Immediately south of Mount Carmel is the small Plain of Dor, generally under the control of foreigners and not significant in the biblical text. The Crocodile River separates the Plain of Dor from the Sharon Plain. In the early first century AD, Herod the Great built Caesarea Maritima on the site of Strato’s Tower along the coast of the Sharon Plain and constructed an immense artificial harbor (Josephus, Ant. 15.331–41). It was Herod’s intent for Caesarea to serve as the entry point for Roman culture into what he considered to be the backwaters of Palestine. In God’s plan, however, the process was reversed: Caesarea became a major Christian center, and the gospel went out through the entire Roman Empire.

The Yarqon River, with its source at Aphek, separates the Sharon and the Philistine plains. Because this created a bottleneck for the International Coastal Highway, whoever controlled Aphek had a military and commercial advantage. It is significant that the Philistines were at Aphek when the Israelites took the ark of the covenant to battle (1 Sam. 4). The Philistine Plain extends fifty miles south to Besor Wadi (dry riverbed) in the western Negev (see below). Its width ranges from about ten miles in the north to twenty-five miles in the south. The five significant Philistine cities were Gaza, Ashkelon, Ashdod, Gath, and Ekron.

Hill country. A mountainous spine runs from the north to the south, with several aberrations due to seismic activity in the distant geologic past. The hill countries of Judah, Benjamin, Ephraim, and Manasseh are in the southern two-thirds of the country. Because the terrain is rugged, with steep V-shaped valleys, these regions are somewhat more isolated and protected, especially in Judah and Ephraim. Travel in the interior is along the north-south ridge, often called the “way of the patriarchs” because Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob journeyed this route, stopping at Shechem, Bethel, Salem (Jerusalem), Hebron, and finally Beersheba at the southern end of the mountain range. Agriculture in the hill country is excellent when there is sufficient rainfall. The hard limestone bedrock means that springs are bountiful and the eroded terra rossa soil is productive. The triad of crops that appears in the Bible includes grain (“bread”), new wine, and oil (Deut. 11:14; Joel 1:10), noted in the order in which they are harvested.

West of the Judean hill country are lower, rolling foothills known as the Shephelah. Cut through by five significant east-west valleys, this region was a buffer zone between the people living in the hill country and the Philistines or other foreign forces passing through on the International Coastal Highway. When Israel was particularly vulnerable, these valleys served as invasion routes into the heartland of Judah. The most famous of these, the Elah Valley, was the site of the face-off between David and the Philistine warrior Goliath (1 Sam. 17).

On the eastern side of the hill country, especially in the tribal areas of Judah and Benjamin, lies the wilderness. Because most of the precipitation falls on the western slopes of the mountain range, rainfall for the regions right around the Dead Sea (in the “rain shadow”) is less than four inches per year. Sparsely inhabited, the wilderness was occasionally a place of refuge, as when David was fleeing from Saul (1 Sam. 23–26). Generally, it was viewed as a place to pass through. When the Israelites conquered the land, they traversed the wilderness to get to the central Benjamin Plateau (Josh. 10:9–10). David fled through the wilderness when Absalom took over the kingdom (2 Sam. 15–16). When Jesus traveled from Jericho (below sea level) to Jerusalem, he climbed through the wilderness to an elevation of about twenty-five hundred feet above sea level. Shepherds grazed their flocks in this area during the winter wet months and then migrated farther north and west as the dry season advanced. Some chose to withdraw into the wilderness, most notably the Qumran community along the northwestern shore of the Dead Sea and the later monastic communities.

The major city in the rugged hill country of Ephraim was Shiloh, a well-protected location for the tabernacle and the ark of the covenant early in Israel’s history (Judg. 18:31; 1 Sam. 1–4). In fact, the decision to take the ark out to battle against the Philistines at Aphek was catastrophic. The tribal territory of Manasseh, north of Ephraim, was more open to foreign influence. The major cities were Shechem, lying between Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal, locations for the renewal of the covenant (Josh. 8:30–35; 24:1), and Samaria, eventually the capital of the northern kingdom. When Omri moved the capital west to Samaria (1 Kings 16:24), it was a bid for more connection with cosmopolitan coastal communities and particularly with the nation of Phoenicia to the northwest. Omri’s son Ahab married the Phoenician princess Jezebel, cementing the alliance and bringing Baal worship to Israel with even greater force.

Mount Carmel, to the northwest of Samaria, served as the effective boundary between Israel and the expanding power of the Phoenicians. It was the perfect stage for the confrontation between Elijah and the prophets of Baal and Asherah (1 Kings 18). Due to its elevation (over seventeen hundred feet at its highest point), it normally receives about thirty-two inches of rain per year. At Elijah’s word, however, the rain had ceased for more than three years (1 Kings 17:1; James 5:17), and the glory of Carmel had withered (cf. Isa. 33:9; Amos 1:2; Nah. 1:4). This was a direct challenge to the supposed powers of Baal, the god of storm and rain. The contest apparently took place near the heights of the promontory overlooking the Mediterranean Sea (1 Kings 18:42–43). There are, however, three sections in the entire twenty-four-mile range, each separated from the next by a chalk pass, providing access through the mountain range. At the southeastern end of Mount Carmel lies the Dothan Valley, location of one of the routes connecting the International Coastal Highway with the major Transjordanian highway (see Gen. 37; 2 Kings 6:8–23).

The Dothan Valley rests between Mount Carmel and Mount Gilboa to the east. These two mountains, along with the Jezreel and Harod Valleys on their northern flanks, create a natural barrier between the central hill country and Galilee. Because of the strategic importance of this region, the Israelites fought early defensive battles against the forces of Jabin king of Hazor (Judg. 4) and against the Midianites camped in the Jezreel Valley (Judg. 7). Later, the Philistines swept through this valley, dividing the southern tribes from those in the north. Saul and his sons lost their lives on Mount Gilboa in this confrontation (1 Sam. 31). The night before the battle, Saul was so troubled by God’s silence that he ventured behind enemy lines on Mount Moreh (directly north of Mount Gilboa) to the town of Endor and requested a medium to summon the prophet Samuel (1 Sam. 28). The city of Megiddo, situated on the edge of the Jezreel Valley at the base of Mount Carmel, guarded the most important pass through the mountain and was the site of numerous battles. It may be the basis for the name “Armageddon,” “Har Megiddo” in Hebrew (Rev. 16).

North of the Jezreel and Harod Valleys, Galilee can be divided into lower and upper Galilee. The latter is called “upper” because it is both farther north and significantly higher in elevation. Upper Galilee is rugged and relatively isolated. As a result, few biblical events unfolded there. In fact, Galilee is seldom mentioned in the OT, with the exception of Isa. 9:1, the passage that Matthew quotes in speaking of the inauguration of Jesus’ ministry in Galilee (Matt. 4:13–16).

The western part of lower Galilee has ridges that run east to west, providing natural conduits for the winds from the Mediterranean Sea as they sweep eastward. This contributes to sudden and strong storms on the Sea of Galilee. The town of Nazareth is nestled near the top of the southernmost ridge, overlooking the Jezreel Valley from the north. This would have afforded Jesus a panoramic view of a historical stage as he was growing up. Nearby was Gath Hepher, hometown of the prophet Jonah (2 Kings 14:25). As Jesus looked east, he would have seen Mount Tabor (Judg. 4–5) and Mount Moreh (Judg. 7; 1 Sam. 31). The “brow of the hill” at Nazareth (Luke 4:29) is a sharp precipice overlooking the Jezreel Valley. Although not mentioned in the Gospels, the Roman city of Sepphoris was only about three miles northwest of Nazareth, and it might have been the place where Joseph was employed as a builder. Eastern lower Galilee is characterized by beautiful rolling hills and valleys that slope down toward the Jordan Valley. Just west of the Sea of Galilee are the cliffs of Arbel, past which the International Coastal Highway made its way as it ran from the Jezreel Valley around Mount Tabor and down into the Jordan Rift Valley.

Jordan Rift Valley. The Jordan Rift Valley, ranging in width from about four to fourteen miles, is a remarkable geological cleft in the earth that extends well beyond the immediate area of Israel. The Arabah, the Dead Sea, the Sea of Galilee, and the Huleh Valley north of the Sea of Galilee lie in the Jordan Rift Valley. In modern times, the Arava (Arabah) refers to the wasteland between the Dead Sea and the Gulf of Eilat (Aqaba), but in the OT the term also included the barren desert north of and around the Dead Sea (Josh. 8:14; 11:2; 1 Sam. 23:24; 2 Sam. 2:29; 4:7). The Dead Sea was called the “Sea of the Arabah” in texts that indicate its role as a boundary marker (Deut. 3:17; 4:49; Josh. 12:3; 2 Kings 14:25).

In the Hebrew Bible, the Dead Sea is called the “Sea of Salt.” The mineral content exceeds 30 percent, compared to normal sea salinity of 3–5 percent. These minerals include calcium, potassium, magnesium, and sodium chlorides. Nevertheless, some algae and bacteria do survive in the sea. Bitumen (asphalt) also seeps from the sea floor, especially when there is more seismic activity in the region. The salinity varies, depending on the level of the Dead Sea, which does fluctuate with variations in rainfall. The level is currently receding rapidly, at a rate of almost three feet per year. One reason for this is the increasing demand for water from the headwaters of the Jordan River. The north end of the sea, at about thirteen hundred feet below sea level, is the lowest place on earth, and the depth of the water at that point is more than one thousand feet.

The Jordan River Valley north of the Dead Sea is approximately sixty-five miles long, and the Jordan River winds for over 120 miles. The name “Jordan” comes from the Hebrew word yarad, which means “to descend.” The Sea of Galilee is 690 feet below sea level, so there is a significant drop between that point and the north end of the Dead Sea.

Key cities in the Jordan Valley include Jericho, just north of the Dead Sea, and Beth Shan, at the junction of the Harod and Jordan valleys. The first city to be conquered (Josh. 6), Jericho represented the vulnerable “underbelly” of Canaan and paved the way for the campaigns that swept first through the south and then the north (Josh. 9–11). Beth Shan was under Philistine control in the early Israelite period. Later, it became the one Decapolis city west of the Jordan River and was known as Scythopolis.

The Jordan Valley has three sections. The entire expanse is called the “Ghor,” an Arabic name. The river valley itself is called the “Zhor,” and it includes the “pride” or thickets of the Jordan, a dense tangle of lush underbrush in which lions could be found in the biblical period (Jer. 12:5; 49:19; 50:44; Zech. 11:3). In between the Ghor and the Zhor is the Qatarra, lifeless marl terraces. In antiquity, during flood stage the Jordan River could be a mile wide. The Israelites crossed the Jordan in the springtime, near Passover, when the river was at flood stage (Josh. 3:15; 5:10).

The Jordan River has its headwaters north of the Sea of Galilee at the base of Mount Hermon. It provides a constant source of freshwater coming into the seven-by-thirteen-mile body of water. In addition, there are salt springs in the northwestern corner. These contribute to the good fishing in that part of the sea. The Hebrew name is “Yam [Sea of] Kinnereth” (Num. 34:11; Josh. 12:3; 13:27). It was also known as the Sea of Tiberias (John 6:1; 21:1) and the Lake of Gennesaret (Luke 5:1). This last name comes from the fertile plain around the northwestern corner of the lake and the city of Gennesaret on that plain.

The ministry of Jesus unfolded around the Sea of Galilee after he moved his base of operations from Nazareth to Capernaum (Matt. 4:13), at the northern end of the sea. Nearby were the cities of Bethsaida and Chorazin, which, along with Capernaum, Jesus condemned for not believing even though he worked miracles in their midst (Matt. 11:20–24). The city of Capernaum profited from the industries of fishing and oil pressing. It was also a likely place for a tax collector, as it was close to the border between Herod Antipas’s Galilee and Herod Philip’s territories to the east. Across the lake, in non-Jewish territory, was the town of Gergesa, perhaps the site where Jesus sent the legion of demons into a herd of pigs (Mark 5:1–20 pars.).

Just north of the Sea of Galilee is an elevated sill, formed by a basalt flow across the Golan Heights and over this section of the Jordan Rift Valley. Hazor, a major site of some two hundred acres, sat astride the sill and dominated the northern region in the Late Bronze and Israelite periods. Hazor is mentioned in texts from both Mari in Mesopotamia and El Amarna in Egypt.

The Huleh Valley, north of the sill, is twenty miles in length and receives about twenty-four inches of rain per year, making it a marshland swamp in antiquity that was called “Lake Semechonitis.” The International Coastal Highway made its way along the western edge of the valley, turned eastward past Mount Hermon, and continued to Damascus.

Transjordan. On the eastern side of the Jordan Rift Valley, at the very northern extent of Israel, Mount Hermon rises to nine thousand feet. Abundant precipitation percolating through the limestone results in prolific springs at its base. These are the headwaters of the Jordan River, the two most important of which are at Dan and Caesarea Philippi. With the abundance of water and lush surroundings, it is not surprising that Dan was a tempting location for the tribe of Dan to resettle, given their precarious position between the tribe of Judah and the Philistines to the west. The idols set up at that point (Judg. 18:30–31) established a precedent for Jeroboam’s choice to position one of the golden calves there as an alternative to worship in distant Jerusalem (1 Kings 12:29–30). Another name for Caesarea Philippi is “Panias” (modern Arabic, “Banias”), in celebration of the god Pan. The rock face from which the spring poured forth is covered with niches for pagan gods; Herod the Great also built a temple to Augustus. In this context, Peter declared that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of the “living” God (Matt. 16:16).

The region south of Mount Hermon was Bashan in the OT period. In the NT era it consisted of a number of small provinces. One of those was Gaulanitis, which is recognizable in the modern name “Golan.” With significant annual rainfall (about forty inches per year), the natural vegetation includes trees and rich pasture that supports large herds (cf. the “bulls of Bashan” in Ps. 22:12; Ezek. 39:18).

Separating the region of Bashan from Lower Gilead is the Yarmuk River Gorge, a significant natural boundary. There was an ongoing contest between the northern kingdom of Israel and Syria to the northeast to control the key site of Ramoth Gilead (1 Kings 22; 2 Kings 9). Cutting through the elevated Dome of Gilead is the Jabbok River, the site of Jacob’s wrestling match with God (Gen. 32).

The area to the east and south of the Dead Sea includes the plains of Moab (Mishor), extending north of the Arnon River Gorge; geopolitical Moab, between the Arnon and the Zered rivers; and Edom, reaching from the Zered down to the northern end of the Gulf of Eilat (Aqaba). To the east of the Mishor lay the kingdom of Ammon. According to Gen. 19, Moab and Ammon were descendants of Lot by his daughters. When they fled eastward from Sodom and Gomorrah, this was the general area they settled.

Transjordan was significant in the OT as the Israelites skirted Edom, conquered the cities of the Amorites and the king of Bashan, and encountered Moab en route to the promised land (Num. 20–25). The tribes of Reuben and Gad and the half-tribe of Manasseh requested the right to settle in Transjordan after the conquest of the land was completed (Num. 32). In the ensuing centuries these tribes suffered the ravages of war on the eastern front (Judg. 10:8; 1 Sam. 11:1; 2 Kings 15:29; 1 Chron. 5:23–26). In the intertestamental period most of northern and central Transjordan came under Hellenistic control. Decapolis cities were located in Bashan, Gilead, and as far south as Philadelphia, at the site of modern Amman.

Negev. To the south of the Judean hill country lies the Negev, whose name means both “dry” and “south.” The biblical Negev is a smaller region shaped somewhat like a bowtie, with Beersheba at the center, Arad in the eastern basin, and Gerar controlling the western basin. The south end of the Philistine plain merges with the western Negev. In the patriarchal period there were tensions over water rights between the herdsmen of Abraham and Isaac and those of the Philistine king Abimelek (Gen. 21:22–34; 26:12–33). Although the region only receives eight to twelve inches of rainfall per year, this was sufficient to sustain small populations, especially if they conserved water. The soil of the Negev is loess, a windblown powder from which the water simply runs off unless catch basins are constructed.

The biblical Negev is bounded by the greater Negev to the south, where rugged limestone ridges predominate. An artificial line drawn from Gaza to Eilat, at the northern end of the Gulf of Eilat, defines the southwestern boundary of the greater Negev; the Jordan Rift Valley is the eastern boundary. The Negev was historically a corridor for spice trade coming from southwestern Arabia and India on the “ship of the desert” (the camel) to reach the Mediterranean markets. The Nabateans, Arab commercial nomads who knew the secrets of the desert, flourished in the spice trade from the fourth to the first centuries BC. Once the Romans co-opted the spice trade, the Nabateans built cities, developed water conservation techniques, and grew extensive vineyards.

The Testing Ground of Faith

Because the land is marginal in terms of both sufficient rainfall and national security, God’s covenant people faced the constant challenge of obedience. The temptations to worship the Canaanite gods for agricultural fertility and to form alliances with more-powerful neighbors instead of putting their trust in God were powerful. Often they succumbed and then experienced God’s chastisement that they might return to him (Lev. 26). Even the land itself would experience pollution due to the sins of its inhabitants (Lev. 18:25). In sum, the land was much more than living space; it was an integral part of the Israelites’ identity as God’s covenant people. When it was flowing with “milk and honey,” the people experienced the shalom of God.

Midian

Midian was one of the sons of Abraham by his wife Keturah (Gen. 25:1–2). Just before dying, Abraham leaves everything to Isaac and sends Midian and his brothers away “to the land of the east” (25:5–6). The biblical narrative regards him as the progenitor of the Midianites, who inhabited what is now southern Jordan and northern Saudi Arabia. The relations between the Israelites and the Midianites over the next centuries are generally adversarial. Moses’ experience is the exception: After fleeing Egypt, Moses arrives in Midian, marries a Midianite woman, and has an amicable relationship with Jethro, her father (also named Reuel), who was also a priest (Exod. 2–3). Jethro even accompanies the Israelites during part of their wilderness wanderings and gives Moses advice on leading the people (Exod. 18).

The remaining references to the Midianites in the OT are largely antagonistic. In Genesis, the merchants who buy Joseph from his brothers and take him down to Egypt are Midianite (37:25–36). (The merchants are also referred to as Ishmaelites in the same narrative, and it may well be that the term “Ishmaelite” could both refer to Ishmaelites proper and serve to denote Arabic nomadic peoples in general; see also Judg. 8:22–24.) In Numbers, the Midianites join the Moabites in attempting to stop the Israelite advance through their territory, hiring Balaam to curse them (Num. 22–24). Although this attempt fails, because God will not allow Balaam to curse the Israelites, idolatrous sexual relations between the Israelites and the Midianites prompt God to put a plague on his own people (Num. 25). One of God’s last instructions to Moses before his death is to make war against the Midianites to exact revenge for their causing the Israelites to sin (Num. 31). On the other hand, when the Israelites continue their cycle of sin in the promised land, God delivers them to other nations, including the Midianites (Judg. 6–9). Israelite victories over Midian, given to them by God, are celebrated in various later passages in the OT (Ps. 83:9; Isa. 9:4; 10:26; Hab. 3:7).

Peace

The word “peace” in both the OT (shalom) and the NT (eirēnē) primarily describes something sound and complete. It was a common form of greeting in both Testaments, and many word cognates from shalom are still in use among speakers of Semitic languages as daily greetings. Following the Hellenistic convention of letter writing, but with heightened appreciation for its distinctively Christian meaning, almost all letters in the NT include “peace” in their beginning or end sections.

The concept of peace in the Bible, however, goes far beyond the commonly held notions of peace as the absence of conflict and the existence of cooperation between parties. The Bible presents peace as the state of completion of God’s plan, fulfillment of his promise for his people on earth. Although peace among individuals, people groups, and nations is not absent from the biblical concept, a clear emphasis is laid on peace between humans and God. In fact, attaining peace on an individual level is tied more closely to one’s relationship with God than to one’s inner psychological state.

Old Testament. The biblical worldview maintains that this world is a broken and flawed place, a state fallen from shalom, which must be reinstated to secure peace. In the OT, the primary context in which peace is reinstated is the sacrificial system. The “peace offering” (shelamim; NIV: “fellowship offering”) requires animal slaughter and shedding of blood. Insomuch as the sacrifice of animals is painful and costly, so is the brokenness of the proper relationship between sinful humans and the holy God.

Another important dimension of restoring peace is through the coming Messiah. That the divinely appointed Messiah would someday come and institute peace in this troubled world is found in many OT prophets and is particularly vital to the theology of Isaiah. With much symbolic power, the messianic epithet in Isa. 9:6 ends with the “Prince of Peace.” The promise that this messianic king will establish peace on earth was a centerpiece of the hope that Israel held through countless crises. In one of the most passionate and powerful passages in the OT, Isa. 53 says that a figure, often called the Suffering Servant, will emerge to take the sin and guilt of God’s people upon himself and bring peace to them (vv. 5–6).

New Testament. For Christians, all these prophecies point to the person and office of Jesus Christ. Significant in their eschatological overtones, both Zechariah and Simeon mention peace in their pronouncements that the anticipated coming of the Messiah had just occurred right in their view (Luke 1:79; 2:29). At Jesus’ birth, the angels proclaim the coming of the Prince of Peace (Luke 2:14). This resonates well with the assertion that Christ is our peace (Eph. 2:14–15).

It is important that the peace mediated by sacrifices in the OT is directly dispensed by Jesus in the Gospels, as in healing the sick and comforting the downtrodden. He even commands peace over natural disturbances (a storm). Jesus specifically indicates that he will give peace to those who follow him. He greets his disciples by invoking peace (“Peace to you”), echoing the Jewish custom at that time, but certainly with a far greater and more powerful reality in mind. In the end, however, the price of true peace was the life of Christ. The peace between God and humans was shattered due to rebellion on the part of humans and the ensuing divine wrath. Since the penalty of sin and separation from God is death (Rom. 6:23), mending the broken relationship would be very costly. In some of the most theologically charged passages (Rom. 5:8–11; 2 Cor. 5:18–21; Col. 1:20–22; Eph. 2:14–17), Paul argues that God, who was the offended party in this breach of relationship, took the initiative to restore the relationship by, shockingly enough, giving up his Son as the peace offering. Thus, the gospel ministry into which Paul and all disciples are called is the ministry of reconciliation—restoring peace.

The “theology of peace” explored above has immense implications for Christian life. In some real sense, peace is the capstone of the rich blessings bestowed on the believer. Peace is a divine gift (John 14:27; 16:33; Rom. 5:1). It is God’s answer to prayer (Phil. 4:7). What armors Christians is the gospel of peace (Eph. 6:15). God is a God of peace (1 Thess. 5:23), and Christ is our peace (Eph. 2:14–15). Peace is what Christ left for his disciples (John 14:27; 16:33).

Prince

In the OT, many Hebrew words are translated as “prince,” all of which can also be rendered as, for example, “chieftain,” “captain,” “leader,” “ruler.” These words generally carry connotations of dominion, leadership, and nobility and do not necessarily indicate the direct male descendants of a sitting king or queen. Thus, Zeph. 1:8 distinguishes between princes and king’s sons. In the NT, the Greek word archōn corresponds to “prince” but is also translated as “ruler.” The same word and concept used with human authorities extend to the supernatural realm. Thus, Michael, the angelic protector of Israel in Daniel’s vision, is a “prince” (Dan. 12:1). In the Gospels, Satan is called the “prince of this world” (John 12:31; 14:30; 16:11) and also the “prince of demons” (Matt. 9:34; 12:24; see also Eph. 2:2). Isaiah calls the messiah “Prince of Peace” (Isa. 9:6), and Jesus is called a “Prince and Savior” (Acts 5:31). God is called the “Prince of princes” in Dan. 8:25.

Shadow

A shadow may refer to shade generally, darkness, or to a specific shadow cast by something; “shadow” and “shade” also have other uses by extension. Perhaps because shade is a protection from the heat of the sun, shade and shadow are metaphors for protection (Pss. 91:1; 121:5; Isa. 49:2), as in the phrase “shadow of [God’s] wings” (Pss. 17:8; 36:7; 57:1; 63:7). Since shadows change through the day and pass away, shadow becomes a metaphor for brevity, particularly the brevity of life (1 Chron. 29:15; Job 8:9; 14:2; Pss. 102:11; 109:23; 144:4), and for change (James 1:17 [though this text has other interpretations]). As darkness, shadow sometimes refers to a place to hide (Job 34:22) or to gloom or danger (Pss. 44:19; 107:10, 14; Isa. 9:2; Jer. 2:6). The “land of darkness and deep shadow” appears to be a reference to death (Job 10:21 ESV, NASB). And since a shadow’s shape resembles the outline of what casts the shadow, shadow may refer to that similarity as a copy, however imperfect (Col. 2:17; Heb. 8:5; 10:1).

Two miracles involved shadows. God gave Hezekiah a miraculous sign by moving the shadow on the steps backward (2 Kings 20:9–11). As people believed the apostles’ message, they brought the sick to Solomon’s Colonnade, where they were healed when Peter’s shadow fell on them (Acts 5:12–16).

The Hebrew word for “deep darkness,” tsalmawet, was seen as two words by LXX translators and rendered as “shadow of death” (skia thanatou). This wording came into the NT as a quotation or allusion (Matt. 4:16; Luke 1:79). Texts discovered from around the time of the judges in Ugaritic, a language closely related to Hebrew, have shown that tsalmawet is one word, meaning “deep darkness” or “gloom.” Modern translations have tended to change the rendering of this word, but some may leave “shadow of death” in Ps. 23:4 because of the popularity of this traditional wording.

Secondary Matches

The following suggestions occured because Isaiah 9:1-7 is mentioned in the definition.

Anoint

The OT priests and tabernacle furnishings were “anointed” (or “smeared”; Heb. mashakh [Exod. 28:41; 40:9]) as a sign of separation to God (consecration) when Moses set up the cultic institution. A number of times it is stated that kings were anointed (Judg. 9:8, 15)—such as Saul (1 Sam. 10:1), David (1 Sam. 16:13), Absalom (2 Sam. 19:10), Solomon (1 Kings 1:39), Jehu (2 Kings 9:6), Joash (2 Kings 11:12), and Jehoahaz (2 Kings 23:30)—as a sign of appointment to and equipping for sacral office. Anointing is only rarely linked to prophetic office (1 Kings 19:16; Ps. 105:15; Isa. 61:1). David would not agree to slaying Saul because he was “the Lord’s anointed” (1 Sam. 24:6; 26:11). The two “who are anointed” to serve the Lord in Zech. 4:14 (presumably Joshua and Zerubbabel) are, in literal translation of the Hebrew, “sons of oil,” the agents of God’s blessing to Israel.

Though there was no king in Israel at that stage, Hannah prayed in her song that the Lord would give strength to “his king” and “his anointed” (1 Sam. 2:10). The personal pronoun stresses that the king/anointed derives power from and owes obedience to God. The OT never uses the absolute form “anointed” (mashiakh), but always “his anointed” (Pss. 2:2; 18:50), “your anointed” (84:9), or “my anointed” (132:17). “Messiah” (“anointed one”) is not a title in the OT, though there is the hope of an ideal Davidic ruler (Isa. 9:6–7; 11:1). Daniel 9:25–26 is no exception, for there is dispute over who or what is so designated. The title “Christ” (Gk. Christos) applied to Jesus in the NT is the Greek equivalent of the Hebrew word “Messiah” (Matt. 16:16). When Paul uses the word order “Christ Jesus,” it is plainly titular (i.e., “the Messiah Jesus”).

Jesus’ disciples anointed the sick with oil (Mark 6:13), and this became settled practice in praying for the sick (James 5:14).

Anointed

Jesus’ disciples anointed the sick with oil (Mark 6:13), and this became settled practice in praying for the sick (James 5:14).

Anointing

Jesus’ disciples anointed the sick with oil (Mark 6:13), and this became settled practice in praying for the sick (James 5:14).

Book of Isaiah

The first of the Major Prophets in the canon, the book of Isaiah is one of the longest books in the Bible. This, coupled with the NT’s frequent use of Isaiah, has contributed to the book’s great importance in Christian tradition. Isaiah contains some of the most memorable passages in Scripture, with its majestic poetry and evocative sermons making it a literary masterpiece. Nevertheless, it has also been characterized as a difficult book to comprehend and make sense of as a whole because the connections between different paragraphs and sections appear to be haphazard at times and are difficult to understand. However, some knowledge of the way the book was formed can aid in interpretation.

Authorship

The authorship of Isaiah has been one of the most debated issues in biblical interpretation. Ancient tradition credited the eighth-century BC prophet Isaiah with the entire sixty-six chapters. However, an early Jewish tradition in the Talmud claims that “the men of Hezekiah” compiled Isaiah, showing their awareness that the book did not come entirely from Isaiah.

Literary evidence. Isaiah son of Amoz is referred to as author in three sections of the book (1:1; 2:1; 13:1) and is featured in both third-person (chaps. 7; 20; 36–39) and first-person (chaps. 6; 8) narratives. However, chapters 40–66 have no such headings and do not even mention Isaiah. While references to Isaiah as author in specific sections may suggest that he actually did write the whole book, they may also indicate that he did not write sections that are not ascribed to him. Similarly, historical narratives referring to the prophet in the third person may suggest that someone else wrote them, although the intimate information in them (e.g., 7:3) could point to Isaianic authorship.

Another possible indication of multiple authorship is the marked difference in literary style and vocabulary found in different sections of Isaiah. While such judgments are quite subjective, both sides of the authorship debate acknowledge these stylistic differences.

Historical settings. The debate regarding the authorship of Isaiah really centers on the diverse historical settings within different sections of the book. Chapters 1–39 clearly are set during the late eighth century BC, the period when Assyria is threatening Judah. Assyria is frequently mentioned (e.g., 7:17; 8:4; 10:12; 11:11; 19:23; 20:1; 27:13; 36:1), as are Judean kings (e.g., 1:1; 6:1; 7:1; 14:28; 36:1) and the prophet Isaiah himself (e.g., 1:1; 2:1; 13:1; 20:2; 37:5).

In contrast, the historical setting of chapters 40–55 is not eighth-century BC Judah. Israel is described as in captivity and Jerusalem is referred to as ruined and deserted (44:26, 28; 52:9); there is frequent allusion to the sufferings of the exile (42:22, 25; 43:28; 47:6; 51:17; 52:5); and the coming return from exile is described as close at hand (40:2; 46:13; 48:20). Furthermore, in chapters 40–55 Babylon is Israel’s enemy, even though in Isaiah’s day they were allies. Also, Cyrus the Great, the Persian king who conquered Babylon in 539 BC (ending the exile), is mentioned with no introduction or explanation (44:28; 45:1), even though he lived 150 years after Isaiah. In sum, chapters 40–55 appear to be addressed to Judeans in Babylonian exile.

Conversely, chapters 56–66 appear to come from yet another historical period. Unlike in chapters 40–55, where the temple was destroyed and out of operation, in chapters 56–66 the temple (66:6), along with sacrifices (56:7; 66:3), offerings (57:6; 65:3; 66:3), and Sabbaths (56:2; 58:13; 66:23), is referred to. Also, Jerusalem and its walls are standing (62:6), unlike in chapters 40–55, where it is predicted that Jerusalem will be rebuilt (44:26). This seems to indicate that it addresses those who have returned to Jerusalem after the exile.

This evidence suggests that the book of Isaiah was written by several authors from different time periods. Alternatively, these diverse historical settings could be explained by supposing that Isaiah spoke to audiences in the distant future through divine inspiration. While skeptical scholars holding antisupernatural worldviews have denied this possibility, those who believe in an almighty God believe that he can reveal the distant future to his prophets. However, the question is whether that is in fact the case with Isaiah. It is significant that in chapters 40–55 Babylonian oppression is not predicted as something to come in the future but rather is presupposed as the present conditions under which the writer is living—only the release from exile is predicted. Logically, it would seem that the author lived in the situation that he presupposes and before the situation that he predicts.

Arguments for the unity of Isaiah. Some scholars still hold to the unity of Isaiah on the following grounds: (1) no ancient manuscripts show that the book ever existed in another form; (2) differences in style and vocabulary can be explained by different subject matter (besides which, the title “Holy One of Israel” unites all sections of Isaiah, as it is used thirteen times in chapters 1–39, sixteen times in chapters 40–66, and only seven times in the rest of the Bible); (3) it seems unlikely that an author as great as the one who wrote chapters 40–55 should remain anonymous; and (4) although it is logical to assume that a prophet is contemporary with what he presupposes, once a prophet makes a prediction, that prediction can become a presupposition for another prediction. Therefore, Isaiah’s prediction of exile in 39:6–7 could become the basis or presupposition on which he continued to prophesy the end to the exile.

However, these arguments are not compelling. Although no manuscripts attest to earlier versions of the book, we possess so few manuscripts from before the time of Christ (and none dating to the time during which the three sections of Isaiah are thought to have been combined) that this is insignificant. Also, the differences in subject matter do not seem great enough to explain the very different style and language in the various sections. Regarding the unlikelihood that the writer of chapters 40–55 could remain anonymous, the fact is that many biblical books are indeed anonymous (e.g., Judges, 1–2 Kings, 1–2 Chronicles). However, most significant are the different historical settings of the major sections of Isaiah. If Isaiah was addressing an audience in the distant future, not only would it be a situation unparalleled in the biblical prophets, but also the message would have been largely unintelligible to Isaiah’s contemporaries (especially references to Cyrus). Moreover, the text does not claim to predict these situations but only presupposes them. However, the reality of prophetic inspiration is underscored, as a later author predicts not only the end of the exile but also a suffering messiah.

First, Second, and Third Isaiah. For convenience (and not to imply that each author was named “Isaiah”), the three major sections are often referred to as First Isaiah (chaps. 1–39), Second Isaiah (chaps. 40–55), and Third Isaiah (chaps. 56–66). In light of the purposeful connections between the different sections, it is probable that the book was the product of a “school” of Isaiah’s disciples (cf. 8:16) who collected and organized Isaiah’s words and added to them over a long period of time.

In the end, the involvement of multiple authors in the composition of Isaiah does not undermine its authority as Scripture. Its authority derives not from the namesake prophet but rather from God, who inspired its writing (2 Tim. 3:16).

Plan of the Book

Isaiah has a literary structure similar to that of Ezekiel, Zephaniah, Joel, and the Greek translation of Jeremiah. The first section is concerned with judgment on Israel (chaps. 1–12), the second with judgment on foreign nations (chaps. 13–23), and the third records prophecies of hope and salvation (chaps. 24–27). This structure purposefully places hopeful oracles of comfort after the judgment oracles. Some view the entire book of Isaiah as following this pattern (chaps. 1–12, judgment on Israel; chaps. 13–35, judgment on other nations; chaps. 40–66, oracles of comfort). However, both of these schemes are somewhat forced, since each section is slightly mixed (there are oracles of salvation in chaps. 1–12, prophecies against Judah in chaps. 13–23, and judgment oracles in chaps. 56–66). However, in broad outline it is helpful to recognize this structure.

Outline

I. Judgment on Judah (1–12)

II. Judgment on the Nations (13–27)

III. Warnings to Trust in the Lord (28–35)

IV. The Assyrian Crisis (36–39)

V. The Second Exodus (40–48)

VI. The Restoration of Jerusalem (49–55)

VII. The Earthly and New Jerusalem (56–66)

First Isaiah (Isa. 1–39)

Key historical events. This section of Isaiah comes from the period when the nation of Assyria was aggressively expanding its territory and terrorizing weaker nations, such as Israel and Judah. Two key historical events form the background for many oracles in chapters 1–39 and are the prominent focus there: the Syro-Ephraimite war of 734 BC and the 701 BC Assyrian invasion of Judah.

The Syro-Ephraimite war. The nations of Aram (Syria) and Israel (Ephraim) allied together against Assyria and tried to coerce Judah into joining them. They planned to replace King Ahaz with a king of their choice (7:6), which would end the Davidic dynasty. In the end, Ahaz rejected Isaiah’s advice to simply trust God (7:9) and instead appealed to the king of Assyria for aid. The Assyrians conquered Aram (732 BC) and Israel (722 BC) and assimilated them into the Assyrian empire. Judah survived but had to pay tribute to Assyria from that point onward.

The Assyrian invasion of Judah. The Assyrian king Sennacherib invaded Judah when Hezekiah, Ahaz’s son, reigned in Jerusalem. The invasion devastated Judah; however, when Jerusalem was threatened, Hezekiah, in contrast to his father, trusted God to save them, and the Assyrian army suffered massive losses and failed to take Jerusalem (37:36).

Structure and themes. The structure of chapters 1–39 is quite complex. However, the prophecies and historical narratives concerned with Isaiah’s day are roughly in chronological order (e.g., prophecies and events occurring during the reign of King Ahaz [6:1–8:22] precede those during Hezekiah’s reign [36:1–39:8]). The structure of these chapters alternates between threat and promise (e.g., chap. 1 = threat; 2:1–4 = promise of hope; 2:5–4:1 = threat; 4:2–6 = promise of hope). Analogously, the main themes of these chapters alternate between threat and promise.

Holiness. A major theme of Isaiah is God’s holiness, as evidenced in its favorite title for the Lord, “Holy One of Israel.” While the original idea underlying holiness was physical separation and did not have an ethical dimension (e.g., temple prostitutes in the ancient Near East were called “holy women”), a different concept of holiness emerges in chapter 6, the account of Isaiah’s call. Since 6:1–9:7 is the only part in the book with autobiographical narration, these chapters probably come from an original memoir of Isaiah himself. The memoir is surrounded by judgment oracles with a repeated element, “Yet for all this, his anger is not turned away, his hand is still upraised” (5:25; 9:12, 17, 21; 10:4), suggesting that the memoir as a whole was inserted between these oracles to explain God’s anger recorded in 1–12. God’s mandate to Israel was to “be holy, because I am holy” (Lev. 11:44–45), but Israel failed to follow this command. In the presence of the holy God, Isaiah realized his own sinfulness and the sinfulness of his people (6:5), connecting the concepts of holiness and righteousness.

The remnant. Already in the first chapter we see the emergence of two groups within Israel: the wicked, who will be punished, and a remnant, who will be redeemed (1:27–31). This focus on the remnant was one way in which Isaiah saw hope for Israel despite the coming judgment that he predicted. The remnant theme highlights the apparent tension between God as holy and God as redeemer: God’s holiness is upheld through the judgment on Israel, but God’s character as savior is witnessed through the remnant that is redeemed.

A coming messianic king. The section 6:1–9:7 dates from the time of the Syro-Ephraimite war, and it appears that Isaiah wrote it down (8:16) when Ahaz refused his counsel. The memoir emphasizes the rejection of the Davidic king Ahaz and predicts the birth of a royal son who would replace Ahaz and bring freedom from oppression (9:1–7). This dissatisfaction with the reigning Davidic king was the seedbed for messianic expectations and is the background for the messianic trilogy of 7:14–16; 9:2–7; 11:1–9. While some of these passages may have originally referred to Hezekiah, he falls short of these messianic expectations, leaving the community of faith awaiting another anointed one (messiah). Ominously, chapter 39 describes Hezekiah’s entertaining guests from Babylon, perhaps implying an alliance between the two nations. Hezekiah’s actions prompt Isaiah to predict the Babylonian exile (39:6–7), providing a fitting segue to chapters 40–66.

Second Isaiah (Isa. 40–55)

A message to the exiles. Second Isaiah was written near the end of the exilic period for those who were deported by Nebuchadnezzar to Babylon. Although the exiles in Babylon were settled in communities (Ezek. 3:15) and allowed to build houses and farm the land (Jer. 29:5–7), they had no temple for worship, and many of the exiles probably saw the destruction of Jerusalem and their temple as the end of God’s action on their behalf. The gods of Babylon appeared to have won the victory. The exiles’ faith was flagging, and even those who did not abandon worship of Israel’s God simply clung to the past and expected nothing new from him.

Contrary to these expectations, Second Isaiah proclaims that God is doing something new for his people and bringing an end to the exile (40:1; 55:12). The role of Cyrus in this deliverance is highlighted, with explicit and implicit reference made to the Persian king (41:2–3, 25; 44:28; 45:1–4, 13–14). However, amid the oracles of comfort there is also a challenge to Israel, which is somehow resistant to the message. To break down this resistance, the prophecy has a sustained rhetoric against idol worship, with some quite hilarious sections ridiculing idol makers (44:9–20). Israel needed to realize that only Yahweh is God and to trust that he will redeem Israel for his purposes. Chapters 1–39 allude to the redemption of Israel (1:27; 35:9), and chapters 40–66 reveal more of how this redemption will take place: the work of “the servant.”

The servant. Several poems featuring an anonymous “servant” (42:1–9; 49:1–12; 50:4–11; 52:13–53:12) are often referred to as the Servant Songs. As far back as the Ethiopian eunuch (Acts 8:34), interpreters have struggled with how to identify “the servant.” At times, Israel is explicitly identified as the servant (Isa. 41:8–9; 42:19 [2×]; 43:10), yet the servant clearly also has individual features, suggesting that a person was to fill the role. Some have suggested Cyrus because 42:1 says that the servant “will bring justice to the nations,” and Cyrus is described as conquering nations (41:2, 25; 45:1). However, despite all the talk of Cyrus, the text never explicitly applies the term “servant” to him, which can hardly be by chance. Alternatively, the servant could be the prophet who speaks in these chapters (as the Ethiopian eunuch speculated), since he was destined for his mission before his birth (49:1) and equipped for a mission involving prophetic speech (49:2) and had received divinely revealed knowledge (50:4).

Yet the Servant Songs are also messianic and look forward to a future anointed one who will fulfill the role of the servant fully. In the NT, Jesus is presented as the new Israel (cf. Matt. 2:15 with Hos. 11:1) who truly fulfills the role of the servant (John 12:38, quoting Isa. 53:1; Matt. 8:17, quoting Isa. 53:4). However, Paul appears to hold to a collective interpretation of the songs, as he sees himself as the servant in some instances (Acts 13:47; Rom. 15:21; Gal. 1:15). Both the individual and the collective interpretations are legitimated in the NT, as both Jesus (individual) and the church (collective), which is Christ’s body, fulfill the role of the servant.

Third Isaiah (Isa. 56–66)

In 539 BC Cyrus allowed the exiles to return home to rebuild Jerusalem and its temple (Ezra 1:1–4). Despite many obstacles, the temple was finished in 515 BC. Even with this success, living in the land was challenging (see Malachi), with factions among the people, economic troubles, hypocritical worship (Isa. 58:1–14), and problems with corrupt leaders (56:9–57:13). It was for this postexilic community that Third Isaiah was written (probably before the reforms of Ezra and Nehemiah in 445 BC brought lasting change to the desperate situation).

Unlike in chapters 40–55, where Israel needs to be roused from its despair by the imminent actions of God, in chapters 56–66 the people are pleading with God to help them (59:11; 62:7). In chapter 59 the prophet declares that God’s delay in helping his people is due not to his inability but rather to the sins of the people, which are described, confessed, and lamented.

In many ways, Third Isaiah unites the themes of First Isaiah and Second Isaiah. Second Isaiah emphasizes the inbreaking of a new age that contrasts with the old. The former things are remembered, but the new thing that God was doing—the return from exile—is stressed. However, in Third Isaiah the deliverance from Babylon is seen as merely a foretaste of God’s promise, which is now identified as a new heaven and earth (chaps. 65–66). Third Isaiah looks forward to the new things that are still ahead.

First Isaiah predicts a Davidic messiah who would rule in righteousness (9:1–7; 11:1–9) and a faithful remnant that would respond in trust (10:20; 28:16). Second Isaiah does not continue with these themes, instead turning attention to the “servant” whose suffering and death would atone for Israel (53:4–5). However, Third Isaiah links First Isaiah’s faithful remnant with obedient “servants” who take on the mission of the Suffering Servant in Second Isaiah. This interpretation sets the direction for the NT’s identification of the royal messiah of chapters 1–39 as the servant of chapters 40–55 (Luke 24:26; Acts 8:32). Third Isaiah thus unites and reinterprets the book as a whole.

It is fitting that Jesus read the opening verses of Isa. 61 in the synagogue at the beginning of his ministry. Like Third Isaiah, he united prophecies of both the messianic Davidic ruler of First Isaiah and the Suffering Servant of Second Isaiah, taking on both roles himself. Third Isaiah ends with a glorious future pictured for the Jewish community as they function as priests in the world (61:6). Similarly, Christ’s body, the church, now functions in these same roles in the world (cf. Acts 13:47; Rev. 5:10).

Commerce

The practice of buying, selling, and trading goods is well attested in both Testaments. Listed among the items of trade in the Bible are textiles (Ezek. 27:24), metals (1 Kings 9:28; Ezek. 27:13; Rev. 18:12), spices (Jer. 6:20; Rev. 18:13), corn (1 Kings 5:11; Ezek. 27:17), animals (1 Kings 10:29), and wine (2 Chron. 2:15; Rev. 18:13).

Old Testament

Palestine rests in a strategic position between Egypt and Mesopotamia. Thus, major trade routes that predate the biblical writings are found throughout Palestine. That certain forms of commerce seem to just appear on the scene in the biblical narrative attests to the significance of commerce during the OT era. One such incident involves a caravan of Ishmaelites traveling from Gilead to Egypt (Gen. 37:25). Although the narrative is primarily interested in showing how Joseph ended up in Egypt, the reality that Ishmaelites (later called “Midianites” [Gen. 37:28]) travel at such great lengths for goods attests to the far-reaching impact of commerce at that time.

Traveling by land. By biblical times, three major north-south highways crossed Palestine. On the coast was the international coastal highway, sometimes referred to as the Way of the Sea (Lat. Via Maris) (see Isa. 9:1), although this is somewhat of a misnomer. This route began in Egypt and continued through to Gaza, Aphek, Megiddo, Hazor, Dan, and Damascus. Mentioned three times in the Bible (Num. 20:17; 21:22; Deut. 2:27), the King’s Highway began in the Gulf of Aqaba at Elath (northernmost point of the Red Sea) and ran north to Damascus. A major trade route in ancient times, the road eventually was lined with fortresses and rebuilt by the Roman emperor Trajan during the second century AD. The third major road was interregional but not international. This central interregional route ran from Shechem in the north to Beersheba in the south, making stops in Shiloh, Bethel, Ramah, Jerusalem, Bethlehem, and Hebron along the way.

The indication that Solomon had “seven hundred wives of royal birth and three hundred concubines” (1 Kings 11:3) evidences various lines of commerce, both regionally and internationally. Marriage, particularly for kings, was arranged often for strategic purposes. One way to formalize an agreement of peace, safe passage, or commerce agreements was to offer a daughter in marriage. Solomon’s wives from Egypt, Moab, Ammon, Edom, Sidon, and Hittite areas (1 Kings 11:1) probably served both political and economic functions.

Traveling by sea. Although travel and trade by water (rivers and sea) cannot be ruled out, particularly in Egypt, the most significant commercial endeavors in the OT concern the main trade routes through Palestine. However, numerous examples of maritime commerce are evidenced in the OT. Among the most interesting examples of maritime commerce are the ships of Solomon, which would return intermittently with “gold, silver and ivory, and apes and baboons” (1 Kings 10:22). Despite the admonition given to the Israelite kings (Deut. 17:15–20), Solomon acquired horses and chariots from Egypt (1 Kings 10:28–29) by way of Kue (cf. Cilicia in the southeast of present-day Turkey). Thus, trade appeared to be international by both land and sea (cf. Gen. 37:25–28; 1 Kings 10:15; Isa. 23:8; Ezek. 27).

Revelation. The centralized geographical orientation of Palestine ensured that it had a unique role in the commercial trade of the ancient Near East. Perhaps this is why God gave specific revelation to Israel that applied to commercial affairs. The exhortation to “use honest scales and honest weights” when conducting business would have demonstrated the integrity of both Israel and Israel’s God (Lev. 19:35–36).

New Testament

The conquests of Alexander the Great catalyzed trade relationships between West and East (c. fourth century BC). Yet it would not be until the Roman consolidation of power in the western Mediterranean (Third Punic War, 149–146 BC) that commerce was greatly improved. The two-century period of peace, referred to as the Pax Romana (cf. Philo, Embassy 47; Plutarch, Mor. 317B), was one of the abiding legacies of the emperor Augustus (r. 27 BC–AD 14). Among the positive outcomes of Augustus’s rule were economic prosperity, improved communications, and stabilized government. The growing network of Roman roads and strict regulation on the seas improved the quality and conditions of travel between locations, thus improving communications and commercial opportunity throughout the empire (cf. Pliny the Elder, Nat. 14.1.2).

Contributing to the development of commerce was the creation of a fully monetized economy throughout the Roman Empire. Although bartering continued to function, coinage had come into heavy usage after and on account of the policies of Alexander the Great. Strabo even goes so far as to mention that the lack of the use of coinage was a characteristic of barbarism (Geogr. 7.5.5).

Merchants include shippers, entrepreneurs, and their agents, who traveled about making contracts and supervising the shipment of goods. Although the typical source of income for an aristocrat was agriculture, the enticement of potential profits of commerce led some to engage in the merchant trade or appoint their slaves to do so. Jesus seems to allude to the latter practice in Matthew’s Gospel when he tells a parable of a master who goes on a long journey and expects his servants to handle his affairs (Matt. 25:14–27). A slave might be entrusted with a message or a business transaction abroad. Thus, it would not have been uncommon to see a slave traveling and handling his master’s business. Perhaps this gives insight into Onesimus, the slave whom Paul encounters, who belongs to Philemon (see Philem. 10–18).

Due to slow travel times, most foods were not transported very far. But the high demand for grain grew the commerce industry from a generally localized phenomenon to an international operation. Aside from the well-documented import/export of grain, items such as wine, dried fruits, spices, and other luxury items were shipped longer distances. Commerce was undertaken by both land and sea.

Traveling by land. Nothing like the massive infrastructure of modern nations existed in antiquity. Yet, by the time of the NT, Roman roads made shipping and land travel more efficient and possible than ever before. The extent of these road systems expanded from modern-day Scotland to the Euphrates and provided strategic value for the empire but also profoundly revolutionized commerce and travel. Many of these roads are still in use. Even with the improved conditions of the road systems, however, land commerce was slow and costly. Most commercial traffic, therefore, was localized. Maritime commercial enterprise, however, allowed for quicker, more economical shipping.

There were two principal land trade routes in the Roman world. First, the Appian Way (Lat. Via Appia) ran south from Rome to Capua, crossing Italy and extending to Brundisium on the Adriatic coast. Stretches of this road were traversed by Paul and his companions as they went to Rome (Acts 28:15–16). The second, the Egnatian Way (Lat. Via Egnatia), begins in Dyrrachium and spans across Macedonia and eventually to Byzantium (Istanbul). A stretch of Paul’s second and third missionary journeys would have used this path as he traveled to Thessalonica (cf. Acts 17:1).

To the east, in Asia Minor (present-day Turkey), the well-traveled east-west roadway was known as the Common Way. Anyone familiar with Paul’s missionary journeys will recognize some of the stops along the Common Way: Ephesus, Laodicea, Pisidian Antioch, Iconium, and Tarsus (to name a few).

Traveling by sea. The presence of maritime commerce is well documented in the NT. Virtually no travel industry existed in its own right; rather, travel followed the established trade routes. If one wished to travel by sea, one sought a cargo vessel heading to the appropriate locale. Thus, when the NT records sea travel, it is in the context of commerce ships (cf. Acts 27:38). Most ships stayed close to land and ventured between ports (cf. 20:13–15; 21:1–8; 27:2), although if the prevailing western winds could be utilized, a large ship would take to the open sea.

Although commerce was not an industry of the elite (cf. Cicero, Off. 1.150–151; Homer, Od. 8.14ff.), the importance of maritime trade cannot be overlooked. This industry provided a way to redistribute essential resources and goods throughout the Roman world, potentially eliminating temporary shortages. Both Athens and Rome depended highly upon imports of grain from Egypt to feed their urban population and maintain armies. In fact, much of the large commercial travel on the Mediterranean was undertaken to supply grain to Rome. The book of Acts mentions two such grain ships from Alexandria (27:6, 38; 28:11).

Large-scale sea commerce could transport vast amounts of goods between locations. Acts mentions 276 persons traveling on a grain ship destined for Rome (27:37). Likewise, Josephus records his ill-fated journey to Rome on a ship carrying 600 passengers (Life 15). This number of passengers provides some insight into the size of these sea vessels and the amount of cargo that could be carried. It is thought that an Alexandrian commerce ship could be up to two hundred feet long.

There were two principal maritime trade routes in the Roman world. First, the sea route from Puteoli (southeast of Rome) to Alexandria was used by merchant ships that took advantage of the prevailing winds on the Mediterranean as they traveled to Egypt for grain. This passage, of nearly one thousand nautical miles, could be made in less than two weeks. Conversely, the journey back could take up to three months and followed the Palestinian coast north, passing several significant ports: Lydda, Joppa, Caesarea, Ptolemais, Tyre, Sidon, and Antioch.

Although Roman peace ushered in an era of safer travel by land and by sea, maritime transit remained quite dangerous. Paul is recorded to have undergone four shipwrecks (see Acts 27:39–44; 2 Cor. 11:25–26). Josephus records his own journey to Rome “through a great number of hazards, by sea” (Life 14). Weather patterns and sea conditions could change quickly, and it was generally acknowledged that certain times of the year were better for traveling (Cod. theod. 13.9.3.3; Tacitus, Hist. 4.81; Acts 27:9–12; cf. 2 Tim. 4:13). Nevertheless, the Roman imperium offered generous incentives to merchants who risked the season and brought supplies of grain to Rome from Egypt (Suetonius, Claud. 18–19; Cassius Dio, Hist. 60.11). Such a ship provided the context for the apostle Paul’s journey to Rome, which ended in shipwreck and the loss of the grain product, but remarkably without any loss of life (see Acts 27:13–44).

Trade associations. Trade associations of various kinds existed in the ancient world. Such a group consisted of merchants or artisans who shared a common trade. These groups typically exerted no political, social, or economic influence. Rather, they existed to protect the merchants and artisans and their economic interests. Such was the case when the artisans of Ephesus incited a riot over the actions of Paul and his companions when they preached against the idolatry of Artemis worship (Acts 19:26). The statement that “all Asia and the world” worship Artemis (19:27) certainly is hyperbolic; yet the pervasiveness of the Artemis cult is recorded in other sources (Pausanias, Descr. 4.31.8; Strabo, Geogr. 4.1.5) and suggests that the artisans who fashioned these silver shrines made good money in the local economy.

Likewise, the bronze trade from Corinth is well documented in antiquity (e.g., Vitruvius, De arch. 8.41; Pliny the Elder, Nat. 34.6). Bronze was used to produce various goods: bowls, jewelry, and sound-enhancing vessels for the theater at Corinth. The latter may be what Paul alludes to when he writes of a “resounding gong” (1 Cor. 13:1). The recognition of the beauty and value of Corinthian bronze resulted in it being sought after by other markets. Pliny the Elder reports, “There has been a wonderful mania among many people for possessing this metal” (Nat. 34.6). Located on the Greek Peloponnesus, Corinth was in a strategic position to distribute its goods throughout the Roman Empire. It was to this port city that Paul came and spent significant time planting a church (Acts 18:1, 18).

Galilean

Someone who lives in or originates from Galilee. Jesus grew up in the extremely southern part of Galilee, at Nazareth, and his first followers were drawn from throughout the region. Galilee had a population of about three hundred thousand people in two hundred or more villages, as well as several large cities (Josephus, Life 235). Galileans shared a unique dialect (Matt. 26:73; cf. Acts 2:7). The region had a reputation for fomenting rebellion (Luke 13:1; 23:5–6). The Pharisee Gamaliel mentions Judas the Galilean (Acts 5:37), who sparked a revolt against the census under Quirinius around AD 6 (Josephus, J.W. 2.118, 433; Ant. 18.23). Galilee was also associated with non-Jews (Gentiles) primarily because of the Decapolis, a league of approximately ten cities (Matt. 4:12–17, citing Isa. 9:1–2; Mark 7:31). However, archaeological evidence and the NT suggest that Galilean Jews, many of whom colonized the area during the rule of the Maccabees, retained close cultural and religious ties with Judea and the temple (Luke 1:26–27; 2:1–7, 39–40; John 4:45).

Goiim

A transliterated plural form of the Hebrew word goy (“nation, Gentile”), and the name of several places. As a place name, it is also spelled Goiim. (1) As a plural noun, goyim occurs more than four hundred times in the OT, referring predominantly to non-Jewish peoples. Its Greek counterpart is ethnos, from which the English word “ethnic” comes. (2) The kingdom of King Tidal (Gen. 14:1, 9). In Gen. 14 King Tidal of Goyim joined King Kedorlaomer of Elam and two other kings in an effort to put down a rebellion in the Dead Sea region. When Abram’s nephew Lot and his household were captured, Abram rescued Lot and defeated the four-king coalition. Scholars have tried to identify King Tidal and his kingdom. Most believe that he was a Hittite king leading his own multination coalition, but there are other proposals. (3) A municipality in Gilgal appearing in the list of kings Joshua conquered (Josh. 12:23). “Goyim in Gilgal” is replaced by “Goiim in Galilee” in some translations (NRSV, ESV) that follow the LXX for this verse. If this is to be preferred, then this Goyim in Galilee is likely the same as in Isa. 9:1 (see next item). (4) A part of the Galilee region called “Galilee of the nations [goyim]” (Isa. 9:1; cf. Matt. 4:13–16). Here most translations render goyim as “Gentiles” or “nations.” Harosheth Haggoyim, the home of the Canaanite army commander Sisera (Judg. 4:2) and the site of his confrontation with the Israelite commander Barak, may also be linked to this location.

Gospel of Matthew

Author

Although strictly anonymous, the first Gospel has always been known as “according to Matthew,” and no evidence exists that it ever circulated without this name. The author is traditionally the apostle Matthew, a former tax collector (9:9). Mark (2:14) and Luke (5:27) identify him as “Levi,” probably his earlier name. This may be further established by the noticeable references to money in the first Gospel: the parables of the unmerciful servant (18:23) and of the daily pay of workers (20:1), the bribe paid to the guards at the tomb to get them to lie (28:12), and Judas’s return of the thirty silver coins (27:5). These stories, unique to Matthew, relate the morality of money in an unequivocal way, indicating Matthew’s own interests from his former life.

Matthew’s Gospel appears first in almost every extant witness to the NT, and it was considered the preeminent Gospel by the early church. It is the Gospel most quoted by the early church fathers. Of the four Gospels, Matthew’s is most oriented toward a Jewish audience.

Sources

A cursory reading of the Gospels reveals that the first three, Matthew, Mark, and Luke (the Synoptic Gospels), share much of the same material. Yet each has its own collection and order of events, reflecting its own theological emphasis. This is quite to our benefit: by examining the differences between the three Gospels, not only do we see different facets of Jesus, but also we can discern and filter the idiosyncrasies of each writer. If Matthew records an event later in his Gospel, there must be a reason consistent with his purposes.

Most current research holds that Mark was written first and provided material for both Matthew and Luke. Matthew tends to smooth out the “rough” Greek of Mark; he also compresses many of the stories, and in a few places he “fixes” passages in Mark that might have seemed unclear or offensive. Material from Mark used by Matthew is generally narrative of Jesus’ life.

Matthew and Luke also contain similar material not found in Mark, the so-called Q material (“Q” is from the German Quelle, which means “source”). No Q document is extant. If it ever existed, it may represent an oral tradition. The Q material in Matthew has strong ethical content, such as the Sermon on the Mount, many of the parables, and the Olivet Discourse. Additionally, Matthew and Luke contain material unique to their own Gospels: M in Matthew, L in Luke. The M material includes the birth and infancy narratives, some of the stories surrounding Jesus’ death and resurrection, and a few of the parables.

The use of Mark (not an apostle) by the apostle Matthew is not as surprising as it may seem. Papias reported that Mark wrote the reminiscences of Peter, a member of Jesus’ inner circle and the leader of the apostolic group. Surely Matthew would have no problem using Mark’s Gospel as a starting point for his own.

Date

Dating the Gospels is difficult. If Matthew borrowed from Mark, then the date of Mark and how long it would have taken to circulate to Matthew are important in the discussion. The first convincing use of Matthew by an external author is Ignatius, early in the second century. This places Matthew in the period between the early 60s to the early 90s.

Internal evidence includes, as in most NT literature dating, Matthew’s relationship to the destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70. If Matthew wrote after this date, we might expect to see this reflected in some passages, especially in the Olivet Discourse, Jesus’ prophecy of the Jewish war. The mention of a city being burned in retribution in 22:7 is casual enough to suggest that Matthew did not know of this happening to Jerusalem. There also are many references to the temple that might have merited a mention of its subsequent loss.

The mention of the temple tax in 17:24 is important. Before AD 70, paying the tax supported the Jewish temple and showed solidarity with Israel. After AD 70, the revenue was diverted to the temple of Jupiter in Rome. Jews were required to continue paying under duress and considered it support of idolatry. Had this been Matthew’s world, he likely would have explained this critical point to his readers.

Arguments for a late date include references to the church (Matthew alone among the Gospel writers uses the term ekklēsia), possibly indicating an interest in church order that developed later; historical tensions between the church and the Jews, which only peaked in AD 85; and thoughts of a later date for Mark. For some, Matthew’s account of Jesus’ predictions of the destruction of Jerusalem is so vivid that it would have to have been written afterward. Many consider the theology of Matthew so sophisticated that it would require a later date.

External evidence includes the early church tradition that Matthew was written early, though part of this thinking is that Matthew was written first of the Synoptics. Still, an early date for Matthew seems the best, though the evidence is far from conclusive.

Structure

Matthew’s literary pointers do not necessarily align with his themes, making for a rich, complex structure that is hard to outline. The following are some of the structures that scholars have proposed.

By discourse. Matthew has five clear sections of Jesus’ discourses, set apart by a concluding phrase along the lines of “when Jesus had finished saying these things” (7:28; 11:1; 13:53; 19:1; 26:1). The five discourses alternate with related narratives of Jesus’ deeds. These discourses should not be thought of as intact, recorded sermons; they are compilations of Jesus’ teachings assembled by Matthew. The parallels in the other Gospels of this material differ: some of it is together as Matthew has it, but much of it is scattered in the other accounts. Matthew organized his material into types of stories and types of ministry by Jesus. Early on, Jesus is the ethical teacher; later, he is the stern lecturer warning Israel of impending judgment.

By story line. Another proposed structure concerns the story line of the Gospel. Matthew twice uses the concluding phrase “from that time on Jesus began to . . .” (4:17; 16:21). But these two instances, particularly 16:21, are in the middle of the narrative line and cannot be thought of as major literary structural markers. It is likely that Matthew uses this phrase to notify his readers of a new phase of the story, and possibly of a new approach in ministry by Jesus.

By geography. This concept revolves around the geography and movement of Jesus from his birth, through the ministry in Galilee, around Galilee, and to Jerusalem.

Outline

The following outline offers a thematic organization of Matthew’s Gospel:

I. The Miraculous Beginnings of Jesus (1:1–4:11)

II. Ethical Teachings and Miracles (4:12–10:42)

III. Confrontation and Reactions (11:1–16:20)

IV. The Messiah Must Suffer (16:21–20:28)

V. Jesus Claims Authority and Receives Praise (20:29–25:46)

VI. The Death of Jesus (26:1–27:66)

VII. The Resurrection of Jesus (28:1–28:20)

I. The miraculous beginnings of Jesus (1:1–4:11). Jesus’ genealogy and childhood show him to be the fulfillment of OT prophecy. His baptism demonstrates this fulfillment; his forty days of testing in the desert identify him with Israel.

II. Ethical teachings and miracles (4:12–10:42). This section begins with a geographical change, as Jesus returns to Galilee. Having instructed his disciples, he sends them out as an extension of his own mission.

III. Confrontation and reactions (11:1–16:20). This section also involves a change of geography. Jesus first is questioned by John’s disciples, then by the Pharisees, and finally by the people in his own town. The questions are resolved by Peter’s confession.

IV. The messiah must suffer (16:21–20:28). This is the third section that begins “from that time on Jesus began to. . . .” Jesus explains to his disciples that he will die at the hands of the Jews but be raised on the third day. This section includes the transfiguration and many parables concerning judgment and reward. The climax is at the end, when Jesus declares that he has come “to give his life as a ransom for many.”

V. Jesus claims authority and receives praise (20:29–25:46). Another geographical shift occurs, as Jesus and his disciples leave Jericho. Jesus acknowledges the title “Lord, Son of David,” cleanses the temple, and argues with the Pharisees about the source of his authority. The parables concern sonship and responses to authority. The Pharisees try to entrap Jesus. Jesus teaches about authority, then rebukes the Pharisees. Chapter 24 describes the consequences of the ultimate rejection of authority. The climax is the parable of the sheep and the goats.

VI. The death of Jesus (26:1–27:66). Matthew’s Gospel has built-in intensity up to the passion narrative. This section builds again within itself, from the anointing of Jesus in Bethany to the hush as the tomb is closed and sealed.

VII. The resurrection of Jesus (28:1–28:20). The accounts of the resurrection and postresurrection appearances are brief but significant and contain several details not found in the other Synoptics.

The Unique Contributions of Matthew

Among the unique contributions of Matthew are his genealogy of Jesus (which differs significantly from Luke’s); the birth/infancy narrative of 1:18–2:23, which includes the rec-ord of the angel appearing to Joseph, the magi from the East, the slaughter of the innocents, and the flight to Egypt; the Great Commission, where Jesus commands his followers to “go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (28:19); and the Sermon on the Mount (chaps. 5–7), the largest block of the teachings of Jesus in the NT (Matthew contains large blocks of Jesus’ teaching in the other discourses as well).

Use of the Old Testament

Matthew’s use of the OT is remarkable. Matthew is concerned with showing Jesus as the fulfillment of the OT and God’s salvation history. This can be seen in the so-called fulfillment quotations (1:22–23; 2:15, 17–18, 23; 4:14–16; 8:17; 12:17–21; 13:35; 21:4–5; 27:9–10; see also 2:5–6; 13:14; 26:54, 56, and 3:3; 22:31–32) as well as in the narrative portions of the book, particularly in the sweeping statement of 26:56: “This has all taken place that the writings of the prophets might be fulfilled.”

Matthew immediately appeals to the OT in recounting the genealogy of Jesus. He divides the history of Israel into three eras: the first culminates in David, the second with the exile—clearly two of the most significant turning points in Israel’s history—the third in Jesus, the Christ.

The quote “Out of Egypt I called my son” (2:15), from Hos. 11:1, is an excellent example of Matthew’s commitment to fulfillment. The passage in Hosea clearly is not looking forward to this verse, but Matthew employs this short sentence to identify Jesus as the fulfillment of Israel and uses the return from Egypt of the holy family to illustrate the parallels in Jesus’ life with the experience of the Jews. Matthew’s use of the OT here, and in general, follows ancient, particularly Jewish, interpretive conventions.

Matthew contains a number of OT quotations not found in the other Synoptics. These appear generally as asides from Matthew himself—his own reflections, as it were, not the words of Jesus. Matthew clearly sees the relationship between Jesus and the OT in both directions: Jesus is the total fulfillment of the OT, and the OT is deeply concerned with pointing the way to Jesus.

Matthew then applies OT passages to the life of Jesus: Jesus is the virgin’s son in Isa. 7:14 (Matt. 1:22–23), the one coming from Bethlehem to rule over Israel in Mic. 5:2 (Matt. 2:5–6), and the son called out of Egypt in Hos. 11:1 (Matt. 2:15); the slaughter of infants reflects the fall of Judah seen in Jer. 31:15 (Matt. 2:17–18); and Jesus is the great light on Zebulun and Naphtali of Isa. 9:1–2 (Matt. 4:13–16).

Jesus’ Relationship to Jewish Leaders

Matthew’s Gospel is almost universally negative toward the religious leaders, even where parallel passages do not reflect this antagonism (compare Matt. 23:37 with Luke 13:31). Matthew records many groups of leaders: teachers of the law (scribes), Pharisees, Sadducees, chief priests, and elders; he often combines terms, “scribes and Pharisees” being his favorite combination. Matthew portrays the Pharisees as the most hostile to Jesus, identifying them as a “brood of vipers” (3:7).

Yet, the Gospel of Matthew is far from being an anti-Jewish work. Jesus is the fulfillment of the OT; he was sent “only to the lost sheep of Israel” (15:24); people praise the God of Israel for his healing demonstrations. Matthew’s point is that it is Israel’s leaders and those who reject their Messiah who are bringing judgment upon themselves.

Goyim

Hope

Scope and Uses of the Word “Hope”

At times simply indicating a wish (2 Cor. 11:1), in the Bible the word “hope” most often designates a disposition of soul, the grounds for one’s hope, or the outcome for which one hopes.

Those whom God has helped and delivered expect to see God’s power again when future needs arise, knowing that in God there are reasons for hope. Mere optimism assumes that bad circumstances will improve with the passing of time. In contrast, hope assumes that God is faithful and is convinced that he is able to bring about his good purpose (Isa. 44:1–8). So at its core, biblical hope is hope in God, rooted in God’s covenant faithfulness (Ps. 62:5–8; Jer. 14:8; 17:13; Rom. 4:18; 5:1–5). Hope trusts God in the present and lives even now on the strength of God’s future accomplishments (Gal. 5:5; Heb. 11:1).

Both of the main OT words for “hope” (Heb. roots qwh and ykhl) are at times translated “wait.” By definition, hope means that God’s promised outcome has not arrived, and that some time will pass before it does. But that time is filled with a sense of waiting on God, often with a deep ache of longing for God to act (see Pss. 25:16–21; 39:4–7; Isa. 40:28–31; Lam. 3:19–24).

The inner disposition of hope may be seriously threatened by injustice and other devastating life experiences, as reflected in Job 6:8–13; 14:19; 19:10. The refrain of Pss. 42:5–6, 11; 43:5 is a psalmist’s self-exhortation to hope amid oppressive and depressing circumstances: “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” Words for “hope” function similarly in other psalms of lament (Pss. 9:18; 31:24; 71:5, 14; cf. Mic. 7:7).

The OT usually locates individual hope within the horizon and limits of this world. One hopes for outcomes that may be realized in one’s own lifetime; indeed, when life ends, hope ends (Prov. 11:7; 24:20; Eccles. 9:4; Isa. 38:18). Proverbs that mention hope regarding someone’s character development show an underlying concern that God’s purposes be vindicated in one’s life (e.g., Prov. 19:18; 26:12). When used in conjunction with Israel as a whole, hope looks to a more distant future and coming generations.

In the NT, hope is closely associated with Christ and his saving work. Christians now live by hope in Christ (Eph. 1:12; 1 Pet. 1:3; 3:15); indeed, he is “Christ Jesus our hope” (1 Tim. 1:1), and his future appearing is “the blessed hope” (Titus 2:13). Thus, hope refers to eschatological glory (2 Cor. 3:11–12; Eph. 1:18). It is “the hope of the resurrection” (Acts 23:6; cf. 24:15; 26:6–9), our transformation into Christ’s likeness (1 John 3:1–3). That expectation stimulates various hopes for God’s plans to be realized in one’s own or others’ lives (1 Cor. 9:10, 13; Phil. 2:19, 23; 2 Tim. 2:25; 2 John 12). So hope is named repeatedly as an essential Christian attribute (Rom. 12:12; 15:4, 13; 1 Cor. 13:13).

Hope as a Biblical Theme

With the God of hope as its covenant Lord, hope is a defining reality for Israel and a persistent theme in the historical books (e.g., 2 Sam. 23:1–7; 2 Kings 25:27–30). Psalmists find hope either in continuity with present structures (Ps. 37) or in drastic change (Pss. 33; 82), such as personal or corporate restoration.

Judgment dominates the message of the preexilic prophets, although expressions of hope are also found. But Judah’s downfall in 587/586 BC marks a turning point in prophetic hope. While preexilic prophecy bases its indictment, appeal, and warning in the exodus and the covenant, Jeremiah and Ezekiel tend to redirect hope and expectation to a new work of salvation that God will accomplish through and after the judgment of exile (e.g., Jer. 31:31–34; Ezek. 11:16–21; cf. Isa. 43:18–19). In the wake of Judah’s destruction, these prophets grasp a remarkable new vision of grace and promise. Restoration will be personal as well as national; forgiveness of sin will enable obedience to God’s law, now to be found written on their hearts.

During the exile, collection of Israel’s sacred texts enabled the shattered community to sustain identity and hope. Postexilic prophecy is often “text prophecy” that arises from reflection upon and reapplication of written prophecies, psalms, and other scriptural texts. For example, the book of Zechariah (especially chaps. 9–14) alludes to many earlier writings and also moves toward apocalyptic literature, contributing dramatic new imagery of God’s conquest of evil to establish his cosmic reign and fulfill his covenant. Messianic hopes rose throughout this period, fueled by earlier prophecies (e.g., Isa. 9; 11; 65:17; Jer. 23:5; Mic. 5:2).

If the OT gives occasional hints of an afterlife, this hope becomes manifest in the NT (2 Tim. 1:10). Jesus promises the thief on the cross fellowship after death (Luke 23:43). For Paul, “to depart and be with Christ” is such a vivid hope that “to die is gain” (Phil. 1:21–24). Such texts imply that death ushers the believer into Christ’s presence. Yet this intermediate state is not the whole picture. We are saved in hope of the redemption of our bodies (Rom. 8:23–25)—our resurrection from the dead and entry into a new glorified, bodily existence (1 Cor. 15; Phil. 3:20–21).

Christ is judge as well as savior (Matt. 16:27; 25:31–46; Acts 17:31; Rom. 2:16), and the NT anticipates final judgment of all persons and powers arrayed against God, including sin and death (1 Cor. 15:24–26; 2 Thess. 1:5–10). Christian hope involves nothing less than the return and full revelation of Jesus Christ, the resurrection of the dead, and the renewal of all creation (1 Thess. 4:13–18; Rev. 21–22)—the complete vindication of God’s rule, secured already in Christ. Then God’s redeemed people will see his face and live in his presence forever (Matt. 5:8; Jude 24; Rev. 22:4). A vision of this future enables us to press on with hope, stretching toward what is to come (Phil. 3:13–14).

Jesus Christ

The founder of what became known as the movement of Jesus followers or Christianity. For Christian believers, Jesus Christ embodies the personal and supernatural intervention of God in human history.

Introduction

Name. Early Christians combined the name “Jesus” with the title “Christ” (Acts 5:42; NIV: “Messiah”). The name “Jesus,” from the Hebrew Yehoshua or Yeshua, was a common male name in first-century Judaism. The title “Christ” is from the Greek christos, a translation of the Hebrew mashiakh (“anointed one, messiah”). Christians eventually were named after Jesus’ title (Acts 11:26). During the ministry of Jesus, Peter was the first disciple to recognize Jesus as the Messiah (Matt. 16:16; Mark 9:29; Luke 9:20).

Sources. From the viewpoint of Christianity, the life and ministry of Jesus constitute the turning point in human history. From a historical perspective, ample early source materials would be expected. Indeed, both Christian and non-Christian first-century and early second-century literary sources are extant, but they are few in number. In part, this low incidence is due to society’s initial resistance to the Jesus followers’ movement. The ancient Roman historian Tacitus called Christianity “a superstition,” since its beliefs did not fit with the culture’s prevailing worldview and thus were considered antisocial. Early literary sources therefore are either in-group documents or allusions in non-Christian sources.

The NT Gospels are the principal sources for the life and ministry of Jesus. They consist of Matthew, Mark, Luke (the Synoptic Gospels), and John. Most scholars adhere to the so-called Four Source Hypothesis. In this theory, Mark was written first and was used as a source by Matthew and Luke, who also used the sayings source Q (from German Quelle, meaning “source”) as well as their own individual sources M (Matthew) and L (Luke). John used additional sources.

The early church tried to put together singular accounts, so-called Gospel harmonies, of the life of Jesus. The Gospel of the Ebionites represents one such attempt based on the Synoptic Gospels. Another harmony, the Diatessaron, based on all four Gospels, was produced around AD 170 by Tatian. Additional source materials concerning the life of Christ are provided in the NT in texts such as Acts, the Pauline Epistles, the General Epistles, and the Revelation of John. Paul wrote to the Galatians, “But when the time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under law” (Gal. 4:4). The first narrative about Jesus by the Christian community was a passion narrative, the account of his death and resurrection. The first extant references to this tradition are found in Paul’s letters (1 Cor. 2:2; Gal. 3:1). The resurrection was recognized from the beginning as the cornerstone of the Christian faith (1 Cor. 15:13–14).

Among non-Christian sources, the earliest reference to Jesus is found in a letter written circa AD 112 by Pliny the Younger, the Roman governor of Bithynia-Pontus (Ep. 10.96). The Roman historian Tacitus mentions Christians and Jesus around AD 115 in his famous work about the history of Rome (Ann. 15.44). Another Roman historian, Suetonius, wrote around the same time concerning unrest among the Jews in Rome because of a certain “Chrestos” (Claud. 25.4). Some scholars conclude that “Chrestos” is a misspelling of “Christos,” a reference to Jesus.

The Jewish author Josephus (first century AD) mentions Jesus in a story about the Jewish high priest Ananus and James the brother of Jesus (Ant. 20.200). A controversial reference to Jesus appears in a different part of the same work, where Josephus affirms that Jesus is the Messiah and that he rose from the dead (Ant. 18.63–64). The majority of scholars consider this passage to be authentic but heavily edited by later Christian copyists. Another Jewish source, the Talmud, also mentions Jesus in several places, but these references are very late and of little historical value.

Noncanonical Gospels that mention Jesus include, for example, the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Peter, the Gospel of James, the Gospel of Judas Iscariot, the Gospel of the Hebrews, the Egerton Gospel, and the Gospel of Judas. Although some of these may contain an occasional authentic saying or event, for the most part they are late and unreliable.

Jesus’ Life

Birth and childhood. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke record Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem during the reign of Herod the Great (Matt. 2:1; Luke 2:4, 11). Jesus was probably born between 6 and 4 BC, shortly before Herod’s death (Matt. 2:19). Both Matthew and Luke record the miracle of a virginal conception made possible by the Holy Spirit (Matt. 1:18; Luke 1:35). Luke mentions a census under the Syrian governor Quirinius that was responsible for Jesus’ birth taking place in Bethlehem (2:1–5). Both the census and the governorship at the time of the birth of Jesus have been questioned by scholars. Unfortunately, there is not enough extrabiblical evidence to either confirm or disprove these events, so their veracity must be determined on the basis of one’s view regarding the general reliability of the Gospel tradition.

On the eighth day after his birth, Jesus was circumcised, in keeping with the Jewish law, at which time he officially was named “Jesus” (Luke 2:21). He spent his growing years in Nazareth, in the home of his parents, Joseph and Mary (2:40). Of the NT Gospels, the Gospel of Luke contains the only brief portrayal of Jesus’ growth in strength, wisdom, and favor with God and people (2:40, 52). Luke also contains the only account of Jesus as a young boy (2:41–49).

Jesus was born in a lower socioeconomic setting. His parents offered a temple sacrifice appropriate for those who could not afford to sacrifice a sheep (Luke 2:22–24; cf. Lev. 12:8). Joseph, Jesus’ earthly father, was a carpenter or an artisan in wood, stone, or metal (Matt. 13:55). From a geographical perspective, Nazareth was not a prominent place for settling, since it lacked fertile ground. Jesus’ disciple Nathanael expressed an apparently common first-century sentiment concerning Nazareth: “Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” (John 1:46).

Jesus was also born in a context of scandal. Questions of illegitimacy were surely raised, since his mother Mary was discovered to be pregnant before her marriage to Joseph. According to Matthew, only the intervention of an angel convinced Joseph not to break his betrothal (Matt. 1:18–24). Jesus’ birth took place in Bethlehem, far from his parents’ home in Nazareth. According to kinship hospitality customs, Joseph and Mary would have expected to stay with distant relatives in Bethlehem. It is likely that they were unwelcome because of Jesus’ status as an illegitimate child; thus Mary had to give birth elsewhere and place the infant Jesus in a feeding trough (Luke 2:7). A similar response was seen years later in Nazareth when Jesus was identified as “Mary’s son” (Mark 6:3) rather than through his paternal line, thereby shaming him as one who was born an illegitimate child. Jesus was likewise rejected at the end of his life as the crowds cried, “Crucify him!” (Matt. 27:22–23; Mark 15:13–14; Luke 23:21; John 19:6, 15). When Jesus was arrested, most of his followers fled (Matt. 26:56; Mark 14:50–52), and a core disciple, Peter, vehemently denied knowing him (Matt. 26:69–74; Mark 14:66–71; Luke 22:55–60; John 18:15–17, 25–27). His own siblings did not believe in him (John 7:5) and were evidently ashamed of his fate, since from the cross Jesus placed the care of his mother into the hands of “the disciple whom he loved” (19:26–27) rather than the next brother in line, as was customary.

Baptism, temptation, and start of ministry. After Jesus was baptized by the prophet John the Baptist (Luke 3:21–22), God affirmed his pleasure with him by referring to him as his Son, whom he loved (Matt. 3:17; Mark 1:11; Luke 3:22). Jesus’ baptism did not launch him into fame and instant ministry success; instead, Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where he was tempted for forty days (Matt. 4:1–11; Mark 1:12–13; Luke 4:1–13). Mark stresses that the temptations immediately followed the baptism. Matthew and Luke identify three specific temptations by the devil, though their order for the last two is reversed. Both Matthew and Luke agree that Jesus was tempted to turn stones into bread, expect divine intervention after jumping off the temple portico, and receive all the world’s kingdoms for worshiping the devil. Jesus resisted all temptation, quoting Scripture in response.

Matthew and Mark record that Jesus began his ministry in Capernaum in Galilee, after the arrest of John the Baptist (Matt. 4:12–13; Mark 1:14). Luke says that Jesus started his ministry at about thirty years of age (3:23). This may be meant to indicate full maturity or perhaps correlate this age with the onset of the service of the Levites in the temple (cf. Num. 4:3). John narrates the beginning of Jesus’ ministry by focusing on the calling of the disciples and the sign performed at a wedding at Cana (1:35–2:11).

Jesus’ public ministry: chronology. Jesus’ ministry started in Galilee, probably around AD 27/28, and ended with his death around AD 30 in Jerusalem. The temple had been forty-six years in construction (generally interpreted as the temple itself and the wider temple complex) when Jesus drove out the money changers (John 2:20). According to Josephus, the rebuilding and expansion of the second temple had started in 20/19 BC, during the eighteenth year of Herod’s reign (Ant. 15.380). The ministry of John the Baptist had commenced in the fifteenth year of Tiberius (Luke 3:1–2), who had become a coregent in AD 11/12. From these dates of the start of the temple building and the correlation of the reign of Tiberius to John the Baptist’s ministry, the onset of Jesus’ ministry can probably be dated to AD 27/28.

The Gospel of John mentions three Passovers and another unnamed feast in John 5:1. The length of Jesus’ ministry thus extended over three or four Passovers, equaling about three or three and a half years. Passover, which took place on the fifteenth of Nisan, came on a Friday in AD 30 and 33. The year of Jesus’ death was therefore probably AD 30.

Jesus’ ministry years may be divided broadly into his Galilean and his Judean ministries. The Synoptic Gospels describe the ministry in Galilee from various angles but converge again as Jesus enters Judea.

Galilean ministry. The early stages of Jesus’ ministry centered in and around Galilee. Jesus presented the good news and proclaimed that the kingdom of God was near. Matthew focuses on the fulfillment of prophecy (Matt. 4:13–17). Luke records Jesus’ first teaching in his hometown, Nazareth, as paradigmatic (Luke 4:16–30); the text that Jesus quoted, Isa. 61:1–2, set the stage for his calling to serve and revealed a trajectory of rejection and suffering.

All Gospels record Jesus’ gathering of disciples early in his Galilean ministry (Matt. 4:18–22; Mark 1:16–20; Luke 5:1–11; John 1:35–51). The formal call and commissioning of the Twelve who would become Jesus’ closest followers is recorded in different parts of the Gospels (Matt. 10:1–4; Mark 3:13–19; Luke 6:12–16). A key event in the early ministry is the Sermon on the Mount/Plain (Matt. 5:1–7:29; Luke 6:20–49). John focuses on Jesus’ signs and miracles, in particular in the early parts of his ministry, whereas the Synoptics focus on healings and exorcisms.

During Jesus’ Galilean ministry, onlookers struggled with his identity. However, evil spirits knew him to be of supreme authority (Mark 3:11). Jesus was criticized by outsiders and by his own family (3:21). The scribes from Jerusalem identified him as a partner of Beelzebul (3:22). Amid these situations of social conflict, Jesus told parables that couched his ministry in the context of a growing kingdom of God. This kingdom would miraculously spring from humble beginnings (4:1–32).

The Synoptics present Jesus’ early Galilean ministry as successful. No challenge or ministry need superseded Jesus’ authority or ability: he calmed a storm (Mark 4:35–39), exorcized many demons (Mark 5:1–13), raised the dead (Mark 5:35–42), fed five thousand (Mark 6:30–44), and walked on water (Mark 6:48–49).

In the later part of his ministry in Galilee, Jesus often withdrew and traveled to the north and the east. The Gospel narratives are not written with a focus on chronology. However, only brief returns to Galilee appear to have taken place prior to Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem. As people followed Jesus, faith was praised and fear resolved. Jerusalem’s religious leaders traveled to Galilee, where they leveled accusations and charged Jesus’ disciples with lacking ritual purity (Mark 7:1–5). Jesus shamed the Pharisees by pointing out their dishonorable treatment of parents (7:11–13). The Pharisees challenged his legitimacy by demanding a sign (8:11). Jesus refused them signs but agreed with Peter, who confessed, “You are the Messiah” (8:29). Jesus did provide the disciples a sign: his transfiguration (9:2–8).

Jesus withdrew from Galilee to Tyre and Sidon, where a Syrophoenician woman requested healing for her daughter. Jesus replied, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel” (Matt. 15:24). Galileans had long resented the Syrian provincial leadership partiality that allotted governmental funds in ways that made the Jews receive mere “crumbs.” Consequently, when the woman replied, “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table,” Jesus applauded her faith (Matt. 15:27–28). Healing a deaf-mute man in the Decapolis provided another example of Jesus’ ministry in Gentile territory (Mark 7:31–37). Peter’s confession of Jesus as the Christ took place during Jesus’ travel to Caesarea Philippi, a well-known Gentile territory. The city was the ancient center of worship of the Hellenistic god Pan.

Judean ministry. Luke records a geographic turning point in Jesus’ ministry as he resolutely set out for Jerusalem, a direction that eventually led to his death (Luke 9:51). Luke divides the journey to Jerusalem into three phases (9:51–13:21; 13:22–17:10; 17:11–19:27). The opening verses of phase one emphasize a prophetic element of the journey. Jesus viewed his ministry in Jerusalem as his mission, and the demands on discipleship intensified as Jesus approached Jerusalem (Matt. 20:17–19, 26–28; Mark 10:38–39, 43–45; Luke 14:25–35). Luke presents the second phase of the journey toward Jerusalem with a focus on conversations regarding salvation and judgment (Luke 13:22–30). In the third and final phase of the journey, the advent of the kingdom and the final judgment are the main themes (17:20–37; 19:11–27).

Social conflicts with religious leaders increased throughout Jesus’ ministry. These conflicts led to lively challenge-riposte interactions concerning the Pharisaic schools of Shammai and Hillel (Matt. 19:1–12; Mark 10:1–12). Likewise, socioeconomic feathers were ruffled as Jesus welcomed young children, who had little value in society (Matt. 19:13–15; Mark 10:13–16; Luke 18:15–17).

Passion Week, death, and resurrection. Each of the Gospels records Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem with the crowds extending him a royal welcome (Matt. 21:4–9; Mark 11:7–10; Luke 19:35–38; John 12:12–15). Luke describes Jesus’ ministry in Jerusalem as a time during which Jesus taught in the temple as Israel’s Messiah (19:45–21:38).

In Jerusalem, Jesus cleansed the temple of profiteering (Mark 11:15–17). Mark describes the religious leaders as fearing Jesus because the whole crowd was amazed at his teaching, and so they “began looking for a way to kill him” (11:18). Dismayed, each segment of Jerusalem’s temple leadership inquired about Jesus’ authority (11:27–33). Jesus replied with cunning questions (12:16, 35–36), stories (12:1–12), denunciation (12:38–44), and a prediction of Jerusalem’s own destruction (13:1–31). One of Jesus’ own disciples, Judas Iscariot, provided the temple leaders the opportunity for Jesus’ arrest (14:10–11).

At the Last Supper, Jesus instituted a new Passover, defining a new covenant grounded in his sufferings (Matt. 26:17–18, 26–29; Mark 14:16–25; Luke 22:14–20). He again warned the disciples of his betrayal and arrest (Matt. 26:21–25, 31; Mark 14:27–31; Luke 22:21–23; John 13:21–30), and later he prayed for the disciples (John 17:1–26) and prayed in agony and submissiveness in the garden of Gethsemane (Matt. 26:36–42; Mark 14:32–42; Luke 22:39–42). His arrest, trial, crucifixion, death, and resurrection followed (Matt. 26:46–28:15; Mark 14:43–16:8; Luke 22:47–24:9; John 18:1–20:18). Jesus finally commissioned his disciples to continue his mission by making disciples of all the nations (Matt. 28:18–20; Acts 1:8) and ascended to heaven with the promise that he will one day return (Luke 24:50–53; Acts 1:9–11).

The Identity of Jesus Christ

Various aspects of Jesus’ identity are stressed in the four NT Gospels, depending on their target audiences. In the Gospels the witnesses to Jesus’ ministry are portrayed as constantly questioning and examining his identity (Matt. 11:2–5; 12:24; 26:63; 27:11; Mark 3:22; 8:11; 11:28; 14:61; Luke 7:18–20; 11:15; 22:67, 70; 23:39; John 7:20, 25–27; 18:37). Only beings of the spiritual realm are certain of his divinity (Mark 1:34; 3:11; Luke 4:41). At Jesus’ baptism, God referred to him as his Son, whom he loved (Matt. 3:17; Mark 1:11; Luke 3:22). Likewise, when Jesus was transfigured in the presence of Peter, James, and John, a voice affirmed, “This is my Son, whom I love” (Matt. 17:5; Mark 9:7). At the moment of his death, the questioning of Jesus’ identity culminated in a confession by a Roman centurion and other guards: “Surely he was the Son of God!” (Matt. 27:54; cf. Mark 15:39).

Miracle worker. In the first-century setting, folk healers and miracle workers were part of the fabric of society. Jesus, however, performed signs and miracles in order to demonstrate the authority of the kingdom of God over various realms: disease, illness, the spiritual world, nature, and even future events. Especially in the Gospel of John, Jesus’ signs and miracles are used to show his authority and thus his identity.

No challenge superseded Jesus’ authority. Among his ample miracles and signs, he changed water into wine (John 2:7–9), calmed a storm in the sea (Matt. 8:23–27; Mark 4:35–39; Luke 8:22–25), exorcized demons (Matt. 9:32–34; Mark 5:1–13; Luke 9:42–43), healed the sick (Mark 1:40–44), raised the dead (Matt. 9:23–25; Mark 5:35–42; Luke 7:1–16; 8:49–54; John 11:17, 38–44), performed miraculous feedings (Matt. 14:17–21; 15:34–38; Mark 6:30–44; 8:5–9; Luke 9:10–17; John 6:8–13), and walked on water (Matt. 14:25–26; Mark 6:48–49; John 6:19).

The Pharisees requested miracles as evidence of his authority (Mark 8:11–12). Jesus refused, claiming that a wicked and adulterous generation asks for a miraculous sign (Matt. 12:38–39; 16:1–4). The only sign that he would give was the sign of Jonah—his death and resurrection three days later—a personal sacrifice, taking upon himself the judgment of the world (Matt. 12:39–41).

Rabbi/teacher. Jesus’ teaching style was similar to other first-century rabbis or Pharisees (Mark 9:5; 10:51; John 1:38; 3:2). What distinguished him was that he spoke with great personal authority (Matt. 5:22, 28, 32, 39, 44; Mark 1:22). Like other rabbis of his day, Jesus gathered disciples. He called these men to observe his lifestyle and to join him in his ministry of teaching, healing, and exorcism (Matt. 10:1–4; Mark 3:13–19; Luke 6:12–16).

Jesus used a variety of teaching methods. He frequently spoke in parables (Matt. 6:24; 13:24–52; 18:10–14, 23–35; 21:28–22:14; 24:32–36, 45–51; 25:14–30; Mark 4:1–34; 12:1–12; 13:28–34; Luke 8:4–18; 12:41–46; 13:18–21; 14:15–24; 15:1–16:15, 19–31; 18:1–14; 19:11–27; 20:9–19; 21:29–33), used figures of speech (John 10:9), hyperbole (Matt. 19:24; Mark 10:25; Luke 18:25), argumentation (Matt. 26:11), object lessons (Matt. 24:32), frequent repetition (Matt. 13:44–47; Luke 13:18–21), practical examples, and personal guidance.

Major themes in Jesus’ teaching include the kingdom of God, the cost of discipleship, internal righteousness, the end of the age, his identity, his mission, and his approaching death. In his teachings, observance of Torah was given new context and meaning because God’s kingdom had “come near” (Matt. 3:2). Jesus had come to fulfill the law (Matt. 5:17).

Jesus’ teaching ministry often took place amid social conflict. These conflicts were couched in so-called challenge-riposte interactions in which the honor status of those involved was at stake. Jesus used these interactions as teachable moments. When questioned, Jesus gave replies that reveal omniscience or intimate knowledge of God’s will, especially in the Gospel of John. In the Synoptic Gospels, Jesus’ answers are both ethical and practical in nature. The Synoptics portray Jesus as challenged repeatedly with accusations of violating customs specified in the Jewish law. Jesus’ answers to such accusations often echoed the essence of 1 Sam. 15:22, “To obey is better than sacrifice,” phrased by Jesus as “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” (Matt. 9:13; 12:7). An overall “better than” ethic was common in Jesus’ public teaching.

The Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5–7) contains a “better than” ethic in which internal obedience is better than mere outward obedience. For example, Jesus said that anger without cause is equal to murder (Matt. 5:21–22), that looking at a woman lustfully amounts to adultery (Matt. 5:28), and that instead of revenging wrongs one must reciprocate with love (Matt. 5:38–48). Jesus valued compassion above traditions and customs, even those contained within the OT law. He desired internal obedience above the letter of the law.

Jesus’ teachings found their authority in the reality of God’s imminent kingdom (Matt. 3:2; 10:7; Mark 1:15; Luke 10:9), necessitating repentance (Matt. 3:2), belief (Mark 1:15), dependence (Matt. 18:3–5; Mark 10:15), and loyalty to a new community—the family of Jesus followers (Mark 3:34; 10:29–30). Jesus urged, “Seek first [God’s] kingdom and his righteousness” (Matt. 6:33). Preaching with such urgency was common among prophetic teachers of the intertestamental period. Jesus, however, had his own grounds for urgency. He held that God deeply valued all humans (Matt. 10:31) and would bring judgment swiftly (Matt. 25:31–46).

Examples of a “greater good” ethic in the Synoptics include the occasions when Jesus ate with sinners (Mark 2:16–17). Jesus used an aphorism in response to accusations about his associations with sinners, saying, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (Mark 2:17). He advocated harvesting and healing on the Sabbath (Mark 2:23–28; 3:1–6), and when he was accused of breaking the law, he pointed to an OT exception (1 Sam. 21:1–6) to declare compassion appropriate for the Sabbath. Jesus also applied the “greater good” ethic in the case of divorce, since women suffered the societal stigma of adultery and commonly became outcasts following divorce (Matt. 19:8–9; Mark 10:5–9).

Jesus’ kingdom teachings were simultaneously spiritual, ethical, and eschatological in application. The teachings were aimed at internal transformation (Matt. 5:3–9; 18:3; Mark 10:15) and spurring on love (Matt. 5:44; 7:21). The Spirit of the Lord had called Jesus to bless the hurting ones as they aspired to a godly character. Jesus taught, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. 5:48), and “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful” (Luke 6:36). The “blessed” ones in Jesus’ teachings are poor of spirit, peace driven, mournful, and hungry for righteousness, consumed with emulating godly character.

Some scholars believe that Jesus promoted an “interim ethic” for the kingdom, intended only for a short period prior to the end of time. However, he was explicit regarding the longevity of his teachings: “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away” (Matt. 24:35; Luke 16:17).

Messiah. The concept of an anointed one, a messiah, who would restore the glories of David’s kingdom and bring political stability was common in Jewish expectation. Both before and after the Babylonian captivity, many Jews longed for one who would bring peace and protection. Israel’s prophets had spoken of a coming deliverer, one who would restore David’s kingdom and reign in justice and righteousness (2 Sam. 7:11–16; Isa. 9:1–7; 11:1–16; Jer. 23:5–6; 33:15–16; Ezek. 37:25; Dan. 2:44; Mic. 5:2; Zech. 9:9). Isaiah’s description of the servant (Isa. 53) whose suffering healed the nation provided a slightly different angle of expectation in terms of a deliverer.

Jesus’ authority and popularity as a miracle worker called up messianic images in first-century Jewish minds. On several occasions hearers called him “Son of David,” hoping for the Messiah (Matt. 12:23; 21:9). Simon Peter was the first follower who confessed Jesus as the Christ, the “Messiah” (Matt. 16:16; Mark 8:29). In line with Isaiah’s model of the Suffering Servant, Jesus focused not on political ends but rather on spiritual regeneration through his own sacrificial death (Mark 10:45).

Eschatological prophet. Many scholars claim that Jesus is best understood as a Jewish apocalypticist, an eschatological prophet who expected God to intervene in history, destroy the wicked, and bring in the kingdom of God. Central in this understanding are Jesus’ prophecies concerning the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem (Matt. 24:1–2, 15–22; Mark 13:1; Luke 21:5–24; John 2:19; Acts 6:14). In addition, it is noted that Jesus had twelve disciples, representative of the twelve tribes of Israel (Matt. 19:2–28; Luke 22:23–30). Certain of Jesus’ parables, those with apocalyptic images of coming judgment, present Jesus as an eschatological prophet (Matt. 24:45–25:30; Luke 12:41–46; 19:11–27).

Suffering Son of God. Jesus’ first recorded teaching in a synagogue in Nazareth was paradigmatic (Luke 4:16–21). He attributed the reading, Isa. 61:1–2, to his personal calling to serve, and in doing so he revealed a trajectory of suffering. The Gospel of Mark likewise aptly portrays Jesus as the suffering Son of God. Jesus’ own teachings incorporated his upcoming suffering (Mark 8:31; 9:12–13, 31; 10:33–34). He summarized his mission by declaring, “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). His earthly career ended with a trial in Jerusalem consisting of both Roman and Jewish components (Matt. 26:57–68; 27:1–31; Mark 14:53–65; 15:1–20; Luke 22:54–23:25; John 18:19–24; 18:28–19:16). He was insulted, scourged, mocked, and crucified.

Jesus’ suffering culminated in his humiliating death by crucifixion (Matt. 27:33–50; Mark 15:22–37; Luke 23:33–46; John 19:16–30). Crucifixion was a death of unimaginable horror, bringing shame and humiliation to the victim and his family. Anyone hanging on a tree was considered cursed (Deut. 21:23; Gal. 3:13). Thus, especially in a Jewish society, anyone associated with a crucified person bore the shame of following one who was executed as a lowly slave and left as a cursed corpse. The apostle Paul referred to this shame of the cross when he stated, “I am not ashamed of the gospel” (Rom. 1:16).

Exalted Lord. Jesus had prophesied that he would rise again (Matt. 16:21; 17:9, 23; 20:19; 27:63; Mark 8:31; 9:9, 31; 10:34; Luke 9:22; 18:33; 24:7, 46). The testimony of the Synoptics is that the resurrection of Jesus Christ indeed occurred on the third day, Christ having died on Friday (Mark 15:42–45; Luke 23:52–54; John 19:30–33) and risen again on Sunday (Matt. 28:1–7; Mark 16:2–7; Luke 24:1–7; John 20:1–16). The resurrected Jesus was witnessed by the women (Matt. 28:8–9), the eleven disciples (Matt. 28:16–17; Luke 24:36–43), and travelers on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:31–32). According to Paul, he appeared to as many as five hundred others (1 Cor. 15:6). He appeared in bodily form, spoke, showed his scars, and ate (Luke 24:39–43; John 20:27; Acts 1:4). After forty postresurrection days, Jesus ascended into the heavenly realm (Acts 1:9).

As much as Jesus’ death was the epitome of shame, his victory over death was his ultimate exaltation (Phil. 2:5–11). At Pentecost, Peter proclaimed that in the resurrection God fulfilled OT promises (Ps. 16:10) by raising his Son from the grave (Acts 2:30–31). Furthermore, Christ provided freedom from the law through his resurrection (Rom. 5:13–14), God’s approval of his life and work (Phil. 2:8–9), and God’s designation of him as Lord over all the earth, the living and the dead (Acts 17:30–31; Phil. 2:10; Heb. 1:3), and over all his enemies (Eph. 1:20–23).

Jesus’ exaltation commenced the beginning of forgiveness and justification (Luke 24:46–47; Acts 13:30–39; Rom. 4:25) and his intercession for the people of God (Rom. 8:34). His ascension signaled the coming of the Holy Spirit as comforter and teacher (John 14:26; Acts 2:33) and was accompanied by the promise of his return in glory (Luke 24:51), at which time he will render judgment (Matt. 19:28; 24:31; Rev. 20:11–15) and establish his eternal kingdom (1 Cor. 15:24; 2 Tim. 4:1; Rev. 11:15; 22:5).

Jesus’ Purpose and Community

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah, who preaches the good news of the kingdom, urging people to repent (4:17–23). Repentance and belief allow one to enter the kingdom. The call into the kingdom is a call into a new covenant, one made in Jesus’ blood (26:28).

In the prologue to the Gospel of Mark, the narrator reveals the identity of Jesus (1:1). Jesus is presented as the one who brings good tidings of salvation (cf. Isa. 40:9; 52:7; 61:1). The centrality of the gospel, the good news (Mark 1:14–15), is evident.

Luke likewise presents the preaching of the good news as a main purpose of Jesus’ ministry (4:43). The content of this good news is the kingdom of God (4:43; 8:1; 16:16). When the disciples of John the Baptist asked Jesus if he was the one who was to come (7:20), Jesus answered, “Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor” (7:22). The kingdom of God, as presented in Luke, brings freedom for the prisoners, recovery of sight for the blind, and release for the oppressed (4:18). Jesus’ healings and exorcisms announce the coming kingdom of God already present in the ministry of Jesus (4:40–44; 6:18–20; 8:1–2; 9:2; 10:8–9).

In the Gospel of John, Jesus testifies to the good news by way of signs throughout his ministry. These signs point to Jesus’ glory, his identity, and the significance of his ministry. Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, who offers eternal and abundant life. This abundant life is lived out in community.

In the Gospel of John, the disciples of Jesus represent the community of God (17:21). The disciples did not belong to the world, but they continued to live in the world (17:14–16). Throughout his ministry, Jesus called his disciples to follow him. This was a call to loyalty (Matt. 10:32–40; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26), a call to the family of God (Matt. 12:48–50; Mark 3:33–35). Jesus’ declaration “On this rock I will build my church” (Matt. 16:18) was preceded by the call to community. Jesus’ presence as the head of the community was replaced by the promised Spirit (John 14:16–18).

Jesus’ ministry continued in the community of Jesus’ followers, God’s family—the church. Entrance into the community was obtained by adopting the values of the kingdom, belief, and through the initiation rite of baptism (Matt. 10:37–39; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26, 57–62; John 1:12; 3:16; 10:27–29; Acts 2:38; 16:31–33; 17:30; Rom. 10:9).

The Quests for the Historical Jesus

The quest for the historical Jesus, or seeking who Jesus was from a historical perspective, is a modern phenomenon deemed necessary by scholars who claim that the NT Gospels were written long after Jesus’ death and were heavily influenced by the post-Easter understanding of the church.

The beginning of this quest is often dated to 1770, when the lecture notes of Hermann Samuel Reimarus were published posthumously. Reimarus had launched an inquiry into the identity of Jesus that rejected as inauthentic all supernatural elements in the Gospels. He concluded that the disciples invented Jesus’ miracles, prophecies, ritualistic religion, and resurrection. Reimarus’s conclusions were not widely accepted, but they set off a flurry of rationalistic research into the historical Jesus that continued throughout the nineteenth century. This became known as the “first quest” for the historical Jesus.

In 1906 German theologian Albert Schweit-zer published The Quest of the Historical Jesus (German title: Von Reimarus zu Wrede: Eine Geschichte der Leben-Jesu-Forschung), a scathing indictment of the first quest. Schweitzer’s work showed that nineteenth-century researchers re-created Jesus in their own image, transforming the historical Jesus into a modern philanthropist preaching an inoffensive message of love and brotherhood. Schweitzer’s conclusions marked the beginning of the end for this first quest. Schweitzer himself concluded that the historical Jesus was an eschatological prophet whose purposes failed during his last days in Jerusalem.

With the demise of the first quest, some NT scholars, such as Rudolf Bultmann, rejected any claim to being able to discover the historical Jesus. This trend continued until 1953, when some of Bultmann’s former students launched what has come to be known as the “new quest” for the historical Jesus (1953–c. 1970). This quest created new interest in the historical Jesus but was still dominated by the view that the portrait of Jesus in the Gospels is largely a creation of the church in a post-Easter setting.

As the rebuilding years of the post–World War II era waned and scholars started to reap academic fruit from major archaeological finds such as the DSS, research on the historical Jesus moved on to what has been called the “third quest.” This quest seeks especially to research and understand Jesus in his social and cultural setting.

Light of the World

John’s Gospel features teachings of Jesus during the Festival of Booths (7:14–8:59). During this festival, four very large menorahs were set up in the court of women in the temple to provide light for dancing throughout the night (m. Sukkah 5:2). In the same location Jesus says, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12; cf. Mark 12:41–44). The Mishnah notes that during this festival “there was not a courtyard in Jerusalem which was not lit up” (m. Sukkah 5:3). Jesus extends the range of the light to “the world.” He perhaps alludes to Isaiah, who prophesied that even the Gentiles, who live in darkness, will see a great light (Isa. 9:1–2, cited as a fulfillment of prophecy in Matt. 4:14–16). In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus applies the same epithet, “light of the world,” to his disciples, who are compared to a lighted city on a mountain (Matt. 5:14). Jesus probably describes an inner light—the effect of a purified heart—which he juxtaposes with the external “shining” of the scribes and the Pharisees (Matt. 6:1–2).

Madian

Messiah

The English word “messiah” derives from the Hebrew verb mashakh, which means “to anoint.” The Greek counterpart of the Hebrew word for “messiah” (mashiakh) is christos, which in English is “Christ.”

Old Testament

In English translations of the Bible, the word “messiah” (“anointed one”) occurs rarely in the OT. In the OT, kings, prophets, and priests were “anointed” with oil as a means of consecrating or setting them apart for their respective offices. Prophets and priests anointed Israel’s kings (1 Sam. 16:1–13; 2 Sam. 2:4, 7). Samuel anointed Saul (1 Sam. 9:16; 10:1; 15:1) and David (1 Sam. 16:12–13). Later, Nathan the prophet and Zadok the priest anointed Solomon, the successor of King David (1 Kings 1:34). The word “anoint” occurs even earlier, in the book of Judges, in a parable about Abimelek becoming king (Judg. 9:7–15). In 1–2 Samuel and Psalms the king is sometimes called “the Lord’s anointed” (1 Sam. 16:6; 24:6; 26:9; Pss. 2:2; 18:50; 20:6). The anointing of priests occurs very early in Israelite tradition, in which Aaron and his sons are consecrated for their priestly service (Exod. 28:41; 30:30). In Num. 35:25 the high priest is anointed with “holy oil.” Sacred objects for use in the tabernacle also were anointed (Exod. 29:36; 30:26; Lev. 8:10–11). As for the anointing of prophets, God commanded Elijah to anoint Elisha as his successor (1 Kings 19:16). The prophet Isaiah also claimed to be anointed for his work of proclamation (Isa. 61:1–2).

The expectation for a “messiah,” or “anointed one,” arose from the promise given to David in the Davidic covenant (2 Sam. 7). David was promised that from his seed God would raise up a king who would reign forever on his throne. Hopes for such an ideal king began with Solomon and developed further during the decline (cf. Isa. 9:1–7) and especially after the collapse of the Davidic kingdom.

The harsh reality of exile prompted Israel to hope that God would rule in such a manner. A number of psalms reflect the desire that an ideal son of David would come and rule, delivering Israel from its current plight of oppression. Hence, in Ps. 2 God declares that his son (v. 7), who is the Lord’s anointed one (v. 2), will receive “the nations [as] your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession” (v. 8). God promises that “you will rule them with an iron scepter; you will dash them to pieces like pottery” (v. 9; see NIV footnote). In Ps. 89 the psalmist yearns for the establishment of David’s kingdom because God has been “very angry with your anointed one” (v. 38). Later, the psalmist pleads with God, “For the sake of your servant David, do not reject your anointed one” (Ps. 132:10). In the postexilic literature, Zerubbabel, for example, appears to be understood as a messianic figure. Speaking of Zerubbabel and Joshua, the angel says, “These are the two who are anointed to serve the Lord of all the earth” (Zech. 4:14).

Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha

In some apocalyptic literature a messiah-like figure ushers in God’s kingdom, overthrowing the current evil powers that oppress God’s people. In 1 Enoch the “son of man” (46.1–3) is an anointed figure (52.6) who will judge the kings and the mighty from his heavenly throne and will champion the cause of the faithful (46.4–8; 62.5). In 2 Baruch “my anointed” (39.7; 40.1) will reign over the remnant in a place chosen by God (40.2). Finally, in a nonapocalyptic Jewish text, Psalms of Solomon, the author expects deliverance from the Roman oppressors and the corrupt Hasmonean dynasty by the “Lord Messiah” (18.7): “See, Lord, and raise up for them their king, the son of David, to rule over your servant Israel” (17.21). These texts confirm the diversity of first-century messianic expectations. Yet the most common hope centered on the “Davidic messiah,” the coming king from David’s line who would establish justice and righteousness and reign forever on David’s throne.

New Testament

Jesus demonstrates great reticence in using the title “Messiah.” In the Synoptic Gospels he almost never explicitly claims it. The two key Synoptic passages where Jesus accepts the title are themselves enigmatic. In Mark’s version of Peter’s confession (8:29), Jesus does not explicitly affirm Peter’s claim, “You are the Messiah,” but instead goes on to speak of the suffering of the Son of Man. Later, Jesus is asked by the high priest Caiaphas at his trial, “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed One?” (Mark 14:60). In Mark 14:62, Jesus answers explicitly with “I am,” while in Matt. 26:64, he uses the more enigmatic “You have said so.” Jesus then goes on to describe himself as the exalted Son of Man who will sit at Yahweh’s right hand.

Jesus no doubt avoided the title because it risked communicating an inadequate understanding of the kingdom and his messianic role. Although the Messiah was never a purely political figure in Judaism, he was widely expected to destroy Israel’s enemies and secure its physical borders. Psalms of Solomon portrays the coming “son of David” as one who will “destroy the unrighteous rulers” and “purge Jerusalem from Gentiles who trample her to destruction” (Pss. Sol. 17.21–23). To distance himself from such thinking, Jesus never refers to himself as “son of David” and “king of Israel/the Jews” as other characters do in the Gospels (Matt. 12:23; 21:9, 15; Mark 10:47; 15:2; John 1:49; 12:13; 18:33). When Jesus was confronted by a group of Jews who wanted to make him into such a king, he resisted them (John 6:15).

In Mark 12:35–37, Jesus also redefines traditional understandings of the son of David in his short discussion on Ps. 110:1: he is something more than a mere human son of David. Combining Jesus’ implicit affirmation that he is the Messiah in Mark 8:30 with his teaching about the Son of Man in 8:31, we see that Jesus is a Messiah who will “suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the teachers of the law” (8:31) and through whom redemption will come (10:45). Jesus came not to defeat the Roman legions, but to bring victory over Satan, sin, and death.

In the book of Acts, Peter reaffirms the messiahship of Jesus at the conclusion of his sermon: “Therefore let all Israel be assured of this: God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Messiah” (2:36 [cf. 5:42; 9:22]). Since it is now apparent that through suffering and death Jesus the Messiah would effect salvation, there is no risk of the Jews misunderstanding Christ’s messiahship. However, he is still a deliverer and savior like the Lord’s anointed of the OT, but he brings about this salvation through unexpected means (3:18–20). Further, Jesus is now the ascended and exalted messianic king in the style of Ps. 110:1 (cf. Acts 2:34–36), which he predicted during his earthly ministry (Mark 14:62). The reality of Jesus’ exalted messianic status is so pervasive in early Christian thinking that the title Christos becomes a synonym for “Jesus” or is used in combination with “Jesus.” And indeed, the earliest followers of Jesus after the resurrection become know as Christianoi (Acts 11:26).

Messias

Old Testament

Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha

New Testament

Midianites

Nativity of Christ

The founder of what became known as the movement of Jesus followers or Christianity. For Christian believers, Jesus Christ embodies the personal and supernatural intervention of God in human history.

Introduction

Jesus’ Life

The Identity of Jesus Christ

Jesus’ Purpose and Community

The Quests for the Historical Jesus

Palestine

Terminology

The word “Palestine” is derived from the name of one of the Sea Peoples (Heb. pelishtim) who migrated to the southern coastal region of the Fertile Crescent from one or more of the coastal regions of the Mediterranean (see Philistines).

The word “Palestine” has at times been used to refer to an area as small as this southwestern coastal region (functioning at times as a synonym for “Philistia”) and as large as the land on both sides of the Jordan River, including the Negev in the south.

Most English versions of the Bible do not mention “Palestine,” although in the KJV the Hebrew word peleshet (usually rendered “Philistia” or “Philistines”) is translated as “Palestina” in Exod. 15:14; Isa. 14:29, 31 and as “Palestine” in Joel 3:4.

Other designations of this region within the Scripture include “Canaan” (Gen. 10:19; Josh. 22:9), “the land” (Gen. 13:17; Josh. 2:1), “the land of Canaan” (Gen. 17:8; Num. 13:2), “the land of the Hebrews” (Gen. 40:15), “the land . . . promised on oath” (Gen. 50:24; Deut. 6:23), in various combinations and order “the land of the Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Hivites, Periz-zites, Jebusites, and Girgashites” (Exod. 3:17; 13:5; 23:23), “the Lord’s land” (Josh. 22:19), “the land of Israel” (1 Sam. 13:19; Ezek. 47:18), and “Trans-Euphrates,” which was “beyond the river” from the perspective of those in Persia (Ezra 4:10; Neh. 2:7). Compare also “the tribes of Israel” (2 Sam. 24:2; Ezek. 47:13), “Israel and Judah” (2 Sam. 5:5; 2 Chron. 30:6), and “from Dan to Beersheba” (Judg. 20:1; 1 Kings 4:25).

In the NT, this territory is usually designated by reference to the provinces of Judea and Galilee (Matt. 2:22; John 7:1), which sometimes are mentioned with the Decapolis (Matt. 4:25) and Samaria (Acts 9:31; cf. Luke 3:1).

Boundaries and Size

Boundaries. Palestine is in the southwestern portion of the Fertile Crescent (i.e., western Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, and Israel). It is located northeast of the Nile River basin and west-southwest of the basins of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers.

Generally speaking, it is bounded by Lebanon to the north, the Mediterranean Sea (= the Sea, the Great Sea, or the western sea) on the west, Wadi el-Arish (= the river of Egypt, the Wadi of Egypt) in the southwest, the Sinai Peninsula in the south, and the Transjordan in the east (Gen. 15:18; Num. 34:3–7, 11–12; Deut. 1:7; 11:24; 34:2; Josh. 1:4; 11:16; 2 Kings 24:7). When the Transjordan is considered part of Palestine (cf. Deut. 34:1), the eastern boundary is the Syrian (Syro-Arabian) Desert. In several biblical texts the northeast boundary of this region is “the great river, the Euphrates” (Gen. 15:18; Deut. 1:7; 11:24; Josh. 1:4; 1 Chron. 5:9; cf. 2 Sam. 8:3).

Size. Because of fluidity in the use of the term “Palestine,” it is difficult to speak precisely of the land area designated by it. Palestine west of the Jordan River is about six thousand square miles, similar to the land area of the state of Hawaii.

A description of “the whole land” viewed by Moses included both the Negev and Gilead, part of the Transjordan (Deut. 34:1–3). In the OT, the Negev is regularly included as one of the regions of the land on the west side of the Jordan (Deut. 1:7; Josh. 10:40; 11:16; Jer. 17:26). The unity of the land on both sides of the Jordan is reflected in texts that focus on Israel’s inheritance of land (Deut. 3:12–17), cities of refuge (Num. 35:14; Josh. 20:7–8), and military victories (Josh. 12:1–8; 24:8–13).

The land area of Palestine increases considerably if one includes these areas, for the Transjordan region is about 4,000 square miles, while the Negev is about 4,600 square miles.

Topographical Regions

Frequent seismic activity, the rising and falling of the landmass, and deposits from the inundation and withdrawal of seas produced seven topographical regions current in Palestine.

Coastal plain. The coastal plain is the fertile terrain bordering the Mediterranean, though the coastline itself consists of beaches, sand dunes, wetlands, and rock cliffs.

The southern portion of the coastal plain was once inhabited by the Philistines (with the coastal cities of Gaza, Ashkelon, and Ashdod). Moving north of the Yarkon River, we pass through the marshy Plain of Sharon and the Dor Plain. In the north, hills rise near Carmel and extend west to the central highlands. North of the Carmel range lie the Acco Plain, the Asher Plain, and the coastlands of Phoenicia (including Tyre and Sidon).

Hill country. The hill country is located between, and runs parallel to, the coastal plain on the west and the Jordan Valley on the east. The hills, ridges, plateaus, and valleys of the hill country are the setting for most of the OT narratives.

The hill country is bisected by the Jezreel Valley, which runs east-west from the Jordan Valley to the Bay of Acco (Haifa Bay), north of Carmel.

The hill country south of the Jezreel Valley is called “the central highlands,” which consist of the rough and rocky hills of Samaria in the north (such as Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal) and the more arid (and, historically, less populated) Judean hill country in the south. The highest hills of this area exceed three thousand feet.

In Scripture the southern hill country (or portions of it) is called “the hill country of Judah/Judea” (Josh. 11:21; Luke 1:39) and “the hill country of Bethel” (Josh. 16:1; 1 Sam. 13:2), while the northern (Samarian) hill country (or portions of it) is called “the hill country of Israel” (Josh. 11:21), “the hill country of Naphtali” (Josh. 20:7), and, most frequently, “the hill country of Ephraim” (Josh. 17:15; Judg. 2:9; 1 Kings 4:8).

The hill country north of the Jezreel Valley consists of two parts, Lower and Upper Galilee, divided by the fault through which runs Wadi esh-Shaghur. Lower Galilee has fertile basins and hills about two thousand feet above sea level. Farther north is Upper Galilee, with hills averaging about three thousand feet. It forms a transition to the mountains of Lebanon, which lie to the north.

The Shephelah (“lowland” or “piedmont”) is the region of gentle and rolling hills between five hundred and one thousand feet above sea level between the Judean hill country and the coastal plain. These hills formerly were covered with sycamore trees and provided Judeans with protection against an attack from the west.

Jezreel Valley. The Jezreel Valley is often equated with the Plain of Esdraelon, though some distinguish the fault basin (Esdraelon) from the rift valley (Jezreel).

On its west side, this fertile plain begins north of Carmel at the coast, moving east to the Jordan Valley. The central highlands lie to the north (Galilee) and south (Samaria) of this plain.

The fertile soil of this low-lying basin was valued for farming. Traders and armies regularly passed through this great plain, and it was often the place of military conflict (cf. Judg. 6:33; 1 Sam. 29:1, 11; Hos. 1:5).

Jordan Valley. The Jordan Valley (also known as the Jordan Rift Valley or the Dead Sea Rift) begins near the base of Mount Hermon in the north (9,232 feet). Moving south, the rift continues to the Hula Valley, through which the Jordan River flows to the Sea of Galilee (Sea of Gennesaret, Lake Kinnereth). The Sea of Galilee is about twelve miles long and five miles wide, located within an area of hills and valleys.

The Jordan River meanders south, flowing through a deep gorge and falling three thousand feet before coming to the Dead Sea (also called “the Sea of the Arabah” [Deut. 4:49; Josh. 3:16] and “the Salt Sea” [Num. 34:3, 12; Josh. 15:2, 5 ESV, NASB]), the lowest place on earth. At its lowest point, the Dead Sea is more than 2,600 feet below sea level.

The Jordan Valley rises as one continues south from the Dead Sea (forty-eight miles long and eight miles wide) through the arid Arabah (cf. Isa. 33:9; Zech. 14:10) to the Gulf of Aqaba.

The term “Arabah” is generally used to refer to the extension of the rift south of the Dead Sea, though at one time in the history of ancient Israel it referred to a region that included the Jordan Valley between the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea, on both the east (Deut. 3:17; Josh. 12:1–3) and the west (Deut. 11:30; Josh. 11:2; Ezek. 47:8) sides of the Jordan River.

Transjordan. The Transjordan region is located east of the Jordan Valley and west of the Syrian (Syro-Arabian) Desert. Three major rivers run across this region, each moving from east to west. The Yarmouk (Yarmuk) and the Jabbok (Zarqa) rivers empty into the Jordan River, while the Arnon River (Wadi el-Mujib) flows into the Dead Sea.

In ancient Israel, regions of the Transjordan, from north to south, included Bashan (Karnaim), north of the Yarmuk River; Gilead, south of the Yarmuk; Ammon, the region of modern-day Amman, southeast of Gilead; Moab, south of the Arnon River; and Edom, south of Wadi el-Hesa (Zered River [cf. Num. 21:12; Deut. 2:13–14]).

The capture of the territory belonging to Sihon between the Jabbok and the Arnon rivers was a significant event in the history of ancient Israel (Num. 21:24; Josh. 12:1–2).

Although the Transjordan is often excluded from “Palestine,” there were times in biblical history when the land on both sides of the Jordan was considered a unit. For example, “the other half of Manasseh, the Reubenites and the Gadites” received their tribal inheritance east of the Jordan (cf. Josh. 13:8–32). They inhabited Bashan, Gilead, and the land of the Amorites (cf. Deut. 3:12–17; 34:1; Judg. 20:1).

According to 2 Sam. 8, David established control over Moab (vv. 2, 12), the Beqaa Valley (“along the Euphrates River” [v. 3 GW]), Aram (v. 6; vv. 12–13 MT), Ammon and Amalek (v. 12), and Edom (v. 14; vv. 12–13 LXX, Syriac; cf. 1 Chron. 18:2–13).

In Scripture, the central Transjordan hill country is sometimes called “the hill country of Gilead” (Gen. 31:21, 23, 25; Deut. 3:12). The southern elevated region in Edom is called “the hill country of Seir” (Gen. 36:8–9; Deut. 2:5).

Negev. The Negev (Negeb) is shaped like an inverted triangle with its peak at the southern city of Eilat (Elath) near the biblical Ezion Geber (cf. 1 Kings 9:26). It is bounded on the north by the Judean hill country, on the west by Sinai, and on the east by the Arabah Valley (which lies along the rift south of the Dead Sea).

The Negev is an extremely dry area, with the most rain found in the northern (twelve inches annually) and western (ten inches annually) sections, and the least in the Arabah Valley (two inches annually). It is a place of sand dunes, rocky desert, and brown hills that increase in height as one moves toward Sinai.

Although the Negev is described as “a land of hardship and distress, of lions and lionesses, of adders and darting snakes” (Isa. 30:6), it was also a place of wells and springs, in addition to cities and towns such as Beersheba (Josh. 15:21–32; 2 Sam. 24:7).

Sinai peninsula. The Sinai peninsula is about twenty-three thousand square miles. It consists primarily of plains, plateaus, and hills (the highest of which is Jebel Yiallaq, at 3,656 feet), with a coastline along the Mediterranean of 145 miles.

The longest river in the region is the Wadi el-Arish, which runs 155 miles northward from central Sinai to the Mediterranean.

Israel’s activities in the Desert of Sinai are often mentioned in the Pentateuch (e.g., Exod. 19:1–2; Num. 1:1; 9:5).

The Desert of Sinai is distinguished from the Desert of Sin (Exod. 16:1) and the Desert of Paran (Num. 10:12). Other arid areas within the Sinai Peninsula include the Desert of Zin (Num. 34:3), the Desert of Shur (Exod. 15:22), and the Desert of Etham (Num. 33:8).

Climate

The climate of Palestine consists of a dry and hot season from June to August and a wet season from mid-October to mid-April. It is common for the wet season to consist of two distinct periods of heavy rain, one at the beginning and one toward the end of this period (cf. “spring and autumn rains” [Deut. 11:14; Joel 2:23; James 5:7]).

Two transitional seasons of about six weeks each bridge the wet and the dry seasons. One occurs between early September and the end of October, the other between early April and the middle of June.

Average temperatures throughout the region range from 46.5–55 degrees (Fahrenheit) in January (both the coldest and the wettest month in Palestine) to 71.5–93 degrees in August.

Most rainfall in Palestine occurs as cyclonic storm systems (about twenty-five each year) bring warm air from North Africa eastward over the Mediterranean, clashing with cooler air from Europe and Asia. As clouds move over the land, precipitation falls heaviest on the west side of the hills, leaving the east side of the hills with less rain.

Typically, rainfall is heaviest in the northern areas of Palestine, the regions closest to the Mediterranean, and in the Transjordan. The area around the Dead Sea is extremely dry, with evaporation exceeding precipitation. In contrast, the northern highlands have forty inches of annual rainfall.

In Palestine, precipitation can also take the form of both snow (cf. 2 Sam. 23:20; Prov. 25:13) and, in a significant way, dew (cf. Judg. 6:37–40; Song 5:2). Dew provides moisture for agriculture especially in the coastal plain, the central highlands, and the Jezreel Valley.

During the transitional seasons, desiccating winds (sometimes called sirocco winds) bring warm desert air from the east (and at times from the south), raising the temperature and lowering the relative humidity throughout Palestine. These winds often bring fine dust from the desert. The effects are most onerous in the Jordan Valley. References to an east wind in Scripture are common (Gen. 41:6; Hos. 13:15; Jon. 4:8; see also “south wind” in Job 37:17; Luke 12:55).

Roads

Two major highways passed through Palestine: “the Way of the Sea,” or Via Maris (cf. Isa. 9:1; Matt. 4:15), and “the King’s Highway” (cf. Num. 20:17; 21:22).

The Way of the Sea moved north from Egypt through the coastal plain, heading east through the Jezreel Valley. From this point it branched out in three directions: northwest through Phoenicia, north toward Damascus, and east to join with the King’s Highway.

The King’s Highway was a Transjordanian route passing from the Gulf of Aqaba in the south (cf. Deut. 2:8) through Edom, Moab, Gilead, and Bashan to Damascus in the north.

Merchants and armies used these highways to pass through Palestine, while local traffic often used east-west roads to move throughout the area.

Propecy

The Phenomenon of Prophecy

A prophet is a messenger of God, a person to whom God entrusts his message to an individual or to a nation. Indeed, the last book in the OT is named “Malachi,” which means “my messenger.” Isaiah heard God ask, “Whom shall I send?” and he cried out, “Send me!” (Isa. 6:8). A good template for understanding the phenomenon is Moses and Aaron. Moses was to tell Aaron what to say, and Aaron would say it. “Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘See, I have made you like God to Pharaoh, and your brother Aaron will be your prophet’ ” (Exod. 7:1).

Prophets such as Isaiah were privy to what transpires in heaven, where decisions were being made that control the course of human history. Micaiah describes how he has seen God in the company of the heavenly host deliberating on how to entice Ahab to his death (1 Kings 22:13–23). All the other “prophets” in Ahab’s court were false, since they did not have knowledge of the events beyond human ken, as only true prophets can. Only one who has encountered God in this way can speak as an agent of the heavenly court.

For every true prophet in Israel, there were many false prophets. Moses set guidelines for distinguishing them. True prophets prophesy in accordance with revealed religion. If a prophet contradicts the law, for example, and calls Israel to worship another god, this is not a true prophet (Deut. 18:20). Also, if a prophet predicts something that does not come to pass, that is also a false prophet (Deut. 18:21–22). These criteria are not mechanical and automatic, however. Sometimes a prophet may appear to contradict prior revelation (Jer. 26:11), and sometimes the predicted judgment is staved off by national repentance (Jon. 4). Also, sometimes God may test the people with a false prophet who makes a true prediction (Deut. 13:1–3).

True prophets occasionally exhibited bizarre behavior. Saul, while pursuing David, was suddenly possessed by the Spirit of God and lay naked day and night, prophesying. This caused the people to ask if Saul was now one of the prophets (1 Sam. 19:24). Even in the ancient world, prophets were considered a bit crazy (2 Kings 9:11; Jer. 23:9; 29:26; Hos. 9:7). The phenomenon he experienced is referred to as “ecstasy.” The practice of tongues in the NT church also seems to have been ecstatic behavior. Paul notes that observers would call practitioners “out of your mind” (1 Cor. 14:23). At Pentecost, some observers thought that the apostles were drunk. Peter replied that they were not drunk but rather had the Spirit upon them (Acts 2:15–21).

The word “prophet” refers to one who foretells the future. Of course, many people cannot accept the notion of real prophecy and thus regard all prophecy as an illusion. Either the text was written after the fact, or it was couched in such general terms that it is no miracle that it came true, or else it was a lucky guess. The text itself, however, wants to be read as real prophecy, and Christians before the modern age read it as such. After all, to reject the supernatural elements in the Bible ultimately leads to rejecting the resurrection of Christ.

However, the modern Christian should not focus on the predictive part of the prophets’ message to such an extent that the “forthtelling” element is neglected. Forthtelling is the prophets’ chief ministry—calling the people to mercy and justice, to obedience to the law and fidelity to God. Christians who believe the Bible should take seriously the predictions about the future, but even more so the challenges about the present.

The Books of Prophecy in the Old Testament

The OT of Catholic and Protestant Bibles is roughly organized around the Greek translation of the OT, the Septuagint. Thus, Daniel is considered a prophetic book, and the prophets are separated from the historical books by the poetical books. However, the Hebrew Bible has a different organization. It has only eight “books” of prophecy, divided into the Former Prophets and the Latter Prophets. The Former Prophets are Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings. Traditionally, Samuel wrote Judges. The books of 1 Samuel and 2 Samuel form one scroll, as do 1 Kings and 2 Kings. The book of Samuel bears the name of the prophet, and Kings is substantially about Elijah and Elisha. The four Former Prophets witness to the outworking of the covenant sanctions, from the Israelites’ entry into the promised land to their expulsion from it.

Usually, when Christians speak of the prophets, they are referring to the Latter Prophets, plus Daniel. In Catholic and Protestant Bibles there are four Major Prophets: Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel; and twelve Minor Prophets: Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi. Many other prophets ministered in Israel but have no scroll that bears their name. Thus, the ones listed above can be called the “writing prophets.”

Isaiah. The book of Isaiah preserves the sermons from the prophet who ministered during the time when Hezekiah was king of Judah, the southern kingdom. Isaiah saw Jerusalem surrounded by the Assyrian army and assured the king that God would deliver his people. That message of salvation is the overall theme of the book, a salvation universal in scope and focused on the figure of the Suffering Servant. Isaiah claims that this servant of God would be wounded and “cut off from the land of the living” (Isa. 53:8) and through this would bring healing and salvation to his people. He would see this and make many righteous (Isa. 53).

The NT refers to Isaiah more often than any other prophet, always to demonstrate that the truths of the gospel of Jesus Christ were revealed in advance by the prophet. For example, Paul cites Isa. 1:9 in his argument as to why the Jews had rejected the gospel (Rom. 9:29). When Jesus withdrew to the area of Zebulun and Naphtali, Matthew says that this act fulfilled Isa. 9:1–2 (Matt. 4:15–16). Jesus himself cites Isa. 53:12, “[he] was numbered with the transgressors,” and claims that it was written about him (Luke 22:37). He does the same with Isa. 61:1–2 (Luke 4:18–21).

Jeremiah. The book of Jeremiah puts in writing the words of the prophet Jeremiah, who ministered at the very end of the kingdom of Judah and lived through the destruction of Jerusalem, with its temple and the people of God being taken away to forced exile and captivity. He sees the weakness and powerlessness of the covenant that God had made with his people to stir up love and fidelity in their hearts to him. According to Jeremiah, what the people chiefly need is a new covenant altogether, one that is not external and written on tablets of stone, but internal, written on their hearts. They need a change of personality to become a different sort of people altogether. This is what Jeremiah predicts will happen in the coming age after their time of captivity is over (Jer. 31:31–40). The NT identifies this new covenant with the gospel of Jesus (Heb. 8:8–12), secured by his blood (Heb. 10:16–17). This is the new covenant that Jesus announces to his disciples when he eats the Last Supper with them (Luke 22:20).

Ezekiel. The book of Ezekiel picks up where Jeremiah leaves off and continues from the destruction of Jerusalem into the early years of the Babylonian captivity. Like Jeremiah, Ezekiel sees the failure of the old covenant. He likens Israel to a married woman who violates her marriage covenant at every turn (Ezek. 16). The prophet also foresees a future character transformation of God’s people. “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws” (Ezek. 36:26–27). This is graphically illustrated in Ezek. 37, where the prophet is told to prophesy to a valley of dry bones, and through the preaching of the word of God the company of the dead come to life and become a vast army—not of skeletons, but of vitally alive warriors. This is a vision of what will happen when God makes an everlasting covenant with them and will dwell with them forever (Ezek. 37:26–27). Paul cites this in 2 Cor. 6:16 and argues, “We are the temple of the living God.” The last part of Ezekiel describes a great, larger-than-life temple that Paul interprets to be the church. Thus, Ezekiel anticipates the preaching of the gospel, bringing spiritual life to a vast company of believers, among whom God himself will dwell.

Daniel. The book of Daniel is not a prophetic book by genre, but much of it is devoted to predicting the future, so in Catholic and Protestant Bibles it is placed between Ezekiel and the Minor Prophets. Prophecy calls the people to repentance and threatens judgment on them due to their sin. Daniel does the opposite: it calls them to persevere as saints, while the evil nations oppress them, until the end of time, when they will be vindicated. Daniel comforts the faithful who are suffering due to the sins of the nations.

The Twelve. The twelve Minor Prophets follow a roughly chronological sequence (with some notable exceptions). Hosea, Amos, and Micah date from the rise of Assyria as the great power that threatened Israel and Judah. Nahum, Habakkuk, and Zephaniah date from near the end of Assyrian dominance and the rise of Babylon. The Babylonian exile is skipped, and the last three—Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi—were written after the Jews’ restoration to the land of Judah. Joel, Obadiah, and Jonah are difficult to date with certainty.

Read as one book, the Minor Prophets tell a story of God’s constancy and fidelity even though everything else in the world changes. They begin with all twelve tribes intact and enjoying prosperity in the land. In Judah, there is a king on the throne of David. But by the end, most of the tribes are lost, the monarchy is no more, Jerusalem and the temple have been destroyed, and the Jews are under the heel of foreign powers. After all of that, God says to them, almost as the moral of the whole history of the OT, “I the Lord do not change. So you, the descendants of Jacob, are not destroyed. Ever since the time of your ancestors you have turned away from my decrees and have not kept them. Return to me, and I will return to you” (Mal. 3:6–7). Deeply explored in the Minor Prophets is the day of the Lord, the climax and denouement of history, in which all the words of the prophets will finally be fulfilled (see Joel and Zephaniah). The reader is given, as a picture of this day, a view of the repentance of one generation of Ninevites at the preaching of Jonah and of the final judgment to fall on that city as described by Nahum.

The NT cites the Minor Prophets much more often than any book of prophecy except Isaiah. Peter draws upon Joel 2:28–32 to explain the pouring out of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2:17–21). James cites Amos 9:11–12 to demonstrate that salvation was always intended for the Gentiles as well as the Jews (Acts 15:16–17). Paul quotes Hab. 2:4 to argue that righteousness before God comes through faith (Rom. 1:17; Gal. 3:11). Jesus says that like Jonah, he will return to the land of the living after three days (Matt. 12:38–41).

Prophecy in the New Testament

In the NT period there were a number of prophets. John the Baptist could point to Jesus and proclaim him to be the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world (John 1:29). Agabus the prophet predicted a famine and, later, Paul’s arrest (Acts 11:28; 21:10–11).

Paul lists “gifts of the Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:4–11), including prophecy and various phenomena reminiscent of the OT prophets’ ecstatic state. Paul warns the Corinthians not to overdo this sort of thing and so to be mature (1 Cor. 14:19–20). Near the end of his life, in one of his last letters, he speaks of prophecy as normative in the church, particularly in establishing an authoritative body of elders to rule and especially to preach the gospel (1 Tim. 1:18; 4:14). Peter draws a connection between the ministry of the OT prophets and the proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ (1 Pet. 1:10–12). Evangelism seems to be the normative mode for prophecy today: forthtelling by calling people to turn from their sins to Jesus, and foretelling by speaking of his return and the final judgment.

Thus, all Christians hold the office of prophet, even if they never participate in the ecstatic state experienced by the Corinthians. The greatness of a prophet is in how clearly the prophet points to Jesus. John the Baptist was the greatest of the OT prophets by that measure, but any Christian on this side of the cross and resurrection can proclaim the gospel even more clearly. Thus, the prophetic ministry of any Christian is greater than John’s (Matt. 11:11).

Prophecy

The Phenomenon of Prophecy

The Books of Prophecy in the Old Testament

Prophecy in the New Testament

Prophetic

The Phenomenon of Prophecy

The Books of Prophecy in the Old Testament

Prophecy in the New Testament

Prophets

The Phenomenon of Prophecy

The Books of Prophecy in the Old Testament

Prophecy in the New Testament

Theocracy

A form of government that acknowledges God’s kingship. God functions as the ultimate king in every era of biblical history, regardless of the form of human government.

In the book of Deuteronomy, theocracy is indicated in affirmations that Yahweh is Israel’s commander in chief. Yahweh goes before his people and fights battles on their behalf (1:30, 33; 3:22; 7:1, 22–24; 9:3–5; 11:23). An important passage that anticipates the monarchy prescribes that God chooses the human king (17:15). That king should neither turn the people back to Egypt nor amass horses, wives, or riches (17:16–17). Rather, the king is to keep God’s law with him and must “read it all the days of his life so that he may learn to revere the Lord his God and follow carefully all the words of this law . . . and not consider himself better than his fellow Israelites” (17:19–20).

The book of Judges recounts a series of leaders who fail to uphold the theocratic ideal of Deuteronomy. Both the tribes and leaders repeatedly “did evil in the eyes of the Lord” (2:11; 3:7, 12; 4:1; 6:1; 10:6; 13:1). The closing chapters of Judges state, “In those days Israel had no king; everyone did as they saw fit” (17:6; 21:25; cf. 18:1; 19:1). These refrains show that Israel needs a human king who will help the people to do what is right (rather than evil) “in the eyes of the Lord.” Israel must maintain theocracy if it is to avoid foreign oppression.

The same issue is at stake in the account of Saul’s rise to kingship. The Israelites’ request for a king is problematic not only because they desired to be like “all the other nations,” but also because they desired a human king who would go before them and fight their battles (1 Sam. 8:5, 20). By asking for a king who would serve in the role of commander in chief, they effectively supplant Yahweh and reject theocracy (1 Sam. 8:7; 10:19; 12:12). In keeping with Deuteronomy, Samuel explains that both king and people are to fear, serve, and obey Yahweh if they are to experience blessing (1 Sam. 12:14–15, 25; cf. Deut. 17:19–20). Since Saul has failed to uphold theocracy, God rejects him as king (1 Sam. 13:14; 15:11, 23, 26–28, 35) and seeks out a man who meets his own criteria for kingship (13:14; cf. 15:28). That David has a proper perspective on God’s authority is evident in statements such as “the battle is the Lord’s” (1 Sam. 17:47). David especially acknowledges God’s kingship by installing the ark in Jerusalem and desiring to build the temple (2 Sam. 6–7), actions that lead to the Davidic covenant (7:4–17).

The Davidic covenant is foundational for a biblical theology of God’s kingdom. Numerous psalms are devoted to God’s kingship (Pss. 2; 20; 21; 47; 93; 145), and eschatological prophecies reveal much about the messianic king/kingdom (Isa. 9; 11; Jer. 23; 30; 33; Ezek. 37; Dan. 2; 7; 9; Mic. 5; Zech. 9; 14). The NT shows that God’s kingdom has arrived in part at the first coming of Jesus but awaits its full consummation at his second coming (Matt. 3:17; 12:28; Mark 1:14–15; Luke 17:20–21; Acts 1:6–8).

Trade

Old Testament

New Testament

Tribe of Naphtali

The tribe descended from Naphtali, son of Jacob and Bilhah. This tribe settled in northern Israel, east of Asher and south of Dan, not far from the Sea of Kinnereth (Sea of Galilee). It is noted that, like other tribes, it failed to completely drive out the Canaanites in its designated territory, which contributed to the difficulties that the nation experienced after the passing of Joshua’s generation (Judg. 1:33). Naphtali has a quiet history in Scripture but is mentioned in the prophecy of Isa. 9:1–7, which Matthew cites in connection with Jesus’ ministry in Galilee (Matt. 4:12–17). Ezekiel also describes an assigned land area for Naphtali in his temple vision (Ezek. 48:3–4).

Tribe of Zebulun

Descended from the tenth son of Jacob, Zebulun, this tribe did not drive out the Canaanites but instead subjected them to forced labor (Judg. 1:30). During the wilderness journey this tribe was one of the foremost in marching order, along with the tribes of Judah and Issachar. It responded to Gideon’s summoning (Judg. 6:35) and also helped to enthrone David in Hebron (1 Chron. 12:33). It was later dispossessed by the Assyrians under Tiglath-pileser III (744–727 BC). Matthew 4:13–16 points to Jesus’ ministry in the regions of Zebulun and Naphtali in Galilee as the fulfillment of Isa. 9:1–2.

Trinity

The biblical writers proclaim that only one God exists, yet they also refer to three persons as “God.” The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are all God. Furthermore, these three persons relate to one another as self-conscious individuals. Jesus prays to the Father (John 17). The Father speaks from heaven concerning the Son (Matt. 3:17; Luke 3:22). Jesus vows to send the Spirit as “Advocate” after his ascension, and he will do what Jesus himself did while he was among us (John 16:7–8). The challenge of Christian theology, therefore, is to formulate a doctrine of God that captures all these elements, each of which surfaces in both Testaments.

Old Testament

In the OT, evidence for the Trinity appears mostly at the implicit level. Yahweh is called “Father” in Isaiah (63:16; 64:8), Jeremiah (3:4, 19; 31:9), and Malachi (2:10). Isaiah declares, “But you are our Father, though Abraham does not know us or Israel acknowledge us; you, Lord, are our Father, our Redeemer from of old is your name” (Isa. 63:16). Yahweh identifies himself as “Father” implicitly when he claims Israel as his “son” (Hos. 11:1), and the same principle applies to Ps. 2:7, where God declares to his anointed, “You are my son; today I have become your father.” These cases do not compare in numbers with the NT evidence, but a person thought of as “God the Father” certainly appears in the OT.

Messianic texts of the OT introduce us to God the Son. In Isa. 9:6 a “child is born” who will be called “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” The day of “Immanuel,” or “God with us,” is foreshadowed in Isa. 7:14 (cf. Matt. 1:22), while Isa. 40:3–5 anticipates the appearance of the Lord “in the wilderness” (cf. Matt. 3:3). Daniel sees “one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven” being given “authority, glory and sovereign power” (Dan. 7:13–14). In Ps. 110:1 Yahweh says to David’s “Lord,” “Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet.”

Similarly, the OT seems to distinguish the Spirit of God from Yahweh while implying the Spirit’s own personality. Genesis 1:2 makes that case, as does Exod. 31:3, where Yahweh fills Bezalel with the “Spirit of God” (cf. Exod. 35:31; Num. 11:29). In 1 Sam. 16:14 a contrast is made between the “Spirit of the Lord” that leaves Saul and an “evil spirit from the Lord” that torments him; also we find a repentant David pleading that God would not take away his “Holy Spirit” (Ps. 51:11). The Spirit can be put on persons by God, with the result that they prophesy (Isa. 61:1; Joel 2:28–29) and do what pleases him (Ezek. 36:26–27). In the OT, therefore, we see two persons (the Son and the Holy Spirit) who are both God and also distinguishable from one to whom they answer and by whom they are sent.

New Testament

The NT contains abundant evidence for “God the Father,” often because of Jesus’ teaching. The “Father” appears several times in the Sermon on the Mount (e.g., Matt. 5:16; 6:6–9, 14, 18, 26, 32; 7:11). Matthew 7:21 stands out because of Jesus’ reference to “my Father who is in heaven,” by which he identifies himself as the Son (see also Matt. 15:13; 16:17; 18:10; and Luke 24:49). Paul’s greetings normally come from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, as seen in Rom. 1:7: “Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ” (also 1 Cor. 1:3; 2 Cor. 1:2; Gal. 1:1–3; 1 Tim. 1:2; 2 Tim. 1:2). Paul introduces the Father and the Son in 1 Cor. 8:6: “For us there is but one God, the Father, from whom all things came and for whom we live; and there is but one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things came and through whom we live” (see also 1 Cor. 15:24; 2 Cor. 11:31; Eph. 1:3; Phil. 2:22). Other significant texts include Heb. 1:5; 1 Pet. 1:2–3; in the latter, the scattered believers are those “who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, to be obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled with his blood. . . . Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!” The NT evidence for “God the Father” is clear.

Biblical texts that point to the deity of Christ supply evidence for the second claim: the Son is God. Some of the texts listed above say as much, but one can take this case further. In context, John’s prologue refers to Jesus as the “Word” and proclaims that he was “with God” and “was God” (John 1:1). Jesus also relates to the Father in ways that imply his own deity, as he declares in John 10:30, “I and the Father are one.” After significant doubting, Thomas confesses the deity of Christ in John 20:28: “My Lord and my God!” NT passages that identify Jesus as the “Son of God” point to his deity, as Peter does in Matt. 16:16: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Even demons identify Jesus as the Son. They call out, “What do you want with us, Son of God? . . . Have you come here to torture us before the appointed time?” (Matt. 8:29; cf. Mark 5:7). The so-called Christ Hymn of Phil. 2:6–11 puts Jesus on the level with God, saying that he did not consider “equality with God something to be used to his own advantage.” The author of Hebrews declares that Jesus is “the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being” (1:3). Colossians 1:15–16 says that Jesus is the “image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation” and the one by whom “all things were created,” and Col. 1:19 states that “God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him.” According to Titus 2:13, Jesus is “our great God and Savior.” The entire sequence of Rev. 4–5 highlights the deity of Christ, culminating in the praise “To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be praise and honor and glory and power, for ever and ever!” as both the Enthroned One and the Lamb are worshiped as God (5:13–14).

The NT writers underscore both the deity and the distinctive personality of the Holy Spirit. Jesus is conceived in Mary’s womb by the Spirit’s power (Matt. 1:18–20), and when Jesus is baptized, the Spirit descends upon him as a dove (Matt. 3:16; Mark 1:10). Jesus drives out demons by the Spirit, and one dare not speak against the Spirit when he does so (Matt. 12:28–32). Luke’s Gospel puts added emphasis on the ministry of the Spirit, as we also see in Acts. He empowers various people to praise and prophesy (Luke 1:41, 67) and to be witnesses for Christ (Acts 1:8; 2:4, 17–18, 38). Sinners can lie to the Holy Spirit (Acts 5:3, 9), and the Holy Spirit bears witness along with the apostles to the risen Christ (5:32). In John’s Gospel, the Spirit becomes the counselor and teacher of the disciples, reminding them of their Lord’s instructions (John 14:26; 16:13). The Spirit brings assurance of sonship (Rom. 8:16) and helps disciples when they pray (8:26). This person even knows the very thoughts of God (1 Cor. 2:11). Accordingly, the Great Commission requires baptism in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (Matt. 28:19). All three members of the Trinity have a part in the advancement of the kingdom, the Spirit no less than the Father and the Son.

Relationships between Father, Son, and Spirit

The evidence considered thus far demonstrates that three persons are called “God” in Scripture: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. But the Scriptures also point to a chain of command in their relationship to one another. The Son obeys the Father, and the Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son to apply the work of the cross to the church. This “functional subordination” of the Son to the Father, some might argue, would follow simply from the analogy chosen by God to reveal himself to us. The “Son” would obey his “Father,” not vice versa, though they share a common dignity as God, just as a human father and son share a common humanity. But the NT writers expressly tell us that they relate to each other in this way. In Matt. 11:27 (cf. Luke 10:22) Jesus announces, “All things have been committed to me by my Father” (cf. John 3:35; 5:22). The latter transfers authority to the former as his subordinate. The Father even (for a season) knows more than the Son regarding the last days: “About that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” (Matt. 24:36), though he also dignifies the Son: “For the Father loves the Son and shows him all he does” (John 5:20). The Son’s commitment to please his heavenly Father is a prominent theme of the NT, as Jesus declares in John 5:19: “The Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does.” No text brings out this dependence of the Son upon the Father more clearly than Heb. 5:7–8, where the Son is said to have “offered up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered.” It is debated by theologians whether this functional subordination relates only to the period of the Son’s earthly ministry, or whether it is an eternal subordination.

The Spirit, though equal in personality and dignity with the Father and the Son, proceeds from them to apply the work of the cross and empower the church for ministry. In John 14:26 Jesus says, “The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.” In John 15:26 Jesus announces that he also sends the Spirit out: “When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father—the Spirit of truth who goes out from the Father—he will testify about me.” The Spirit only conveys what he has received: “He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears, and he will tell you what is yet to come” (John 16:13). The same “chain of command” appears in John 16:15, where Jesus says, “All that belongs to the Father is mine. That is why I said the Spirit will receive from me what he will make known to you.”

Trinitarian Heresies

The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are God, while being distinguishable persons. The Son obeys the Father; and these two persons of the Trinity send out the Holy Spirit to implement our deliverance from sin. A defensible explanation of the Trinity will respect all these dynamics, taking special care not to illustrate them with misleading images or simply lapse into various forms of polytheism. One of the earliest heresies of the church came from Marcion, a second-century theologian who distinguished the Father of Jesus from the supposedly vindictive God of the OT, which leaves us with more than one God. Later came the heresies of modalism and subordinationism (or Arianism). Modalists claimed that the persons of the Trinity are no more than guises worn by the one person of God. One minute God is the Father, the next he is the Son or the Holy Spirit. Subordinationists such as Arius (died AD 336) went beyond the functionality of the NT’s chain of command, arguing that the Son and the Holy Spirit are not themselves God but are essentially subordinate to him. Jehovah’s Witnesses have fallen into this latter error, suggesting that Jesus is “a god” but not the Creator God.

These early heresies pressed the church to refine its understanding of the Trinity. In his response to Marcion’s error, Tertullian coined precise language to describe the persons of the Godhead, so that God’s “threeness” and “oneness” are preserved. He used the Latin term trinitas to describe the Christian God and argued that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit share the same “substance.” The Son (also, then, the Holy Spirit) is not simply of “like substance” (Gk. homoiousios) with God the Father, but rather is “consubstantial” (Gk. homoousios) with him: the Son is God, and so is the Holy Spirit. The Nicene Creed of AD 325 incorporated this explanation and, in so doing, also set aside the idea that either the Son or the Holy Spirit was created by God, as the Arian heresy requires. Nicaea also rejected adoptionism, which regards Jesus as a man whom God promoted by endowing him with supernatural powers.

Each of these heresies—plus, say, the strict monotheism of Islam—attempts to relieve the tension seen among the claims that constitute the Trinity; however, orthodox Christians will remember that tensions and paradoxes are not automatic contradictions. No philosopher or theologian has ever expressly demonstrated that the Trinity entails logical nonsense, and Christianity’s detractors carry the burden of proof in this case. It is one thing to allege that an idea is contradictory, and quite another thing to show with an argument that it is so. On the positive side, the Trinity must remain a central doctrine of the church because it affects all the others, especially the entire work of redemption. If God is not triune, then Jesus is not God; and if he is not God, then he cannot save us, nor can we worship him as our Lord. The sacrifice that he offers for our sin would not, in that case, be supremely valuable. Consider also the application to us of what Christ has done. If the Holy Spirit is not God, then he cannot speak for God as one who knows perfectly his thoughts and gives us the word of God, our Bible. Scripture indicates that God is triune, and sinners need him to be so.

Unction

Jesus’ disciples anointed the sick with oil (Mark 6:13), and this became settled practice in praying for the sick (James 5:14).

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1. Parable of the Hinge

Illustration

Staff

The door opened and closed with a bang thousands of times. One angry son left the house and crashed the door shut and the hinge came loose. When he tried to re-enter the door wouldn't open.

"What's the matter with this door?" he shouted. "Someone let me in."

"Now, you've done it," said the mother.

"The door isn't broken," said the boy, "it is just the hinge."

"Well, I can't get it open," said the mother. "You'll have to wait until father gets home."

"You push and I'll pull," said the boy, "and we will get the door open."

They succeeded with a struggle and closed the door with a struggle. "You wouldn't think one little hinge would make such a difference," said the boy.

It is true that the doorways of life hinge on important matters, which we often take for granted. Christmas hinges on the birth of Christ and the Church teaches of His Spirit; but much of society takes Jesus and the Church for granted.

Democracy hinges on the respect for the rights of every individual, while many take these rights for granted, while denying the privileges to others. Christmas, democracy, the Church, the school, the home, and all good things are short changed by millions who ignore the hinges which swing the doors through which they come and go. In observing Christmas we pause to consider the many to whom we are indebted. Those who keep the streets usable, those who keep the electric lines supplied, and those who bring the mail. Christmas is a time of appreciation because God's love makes us aware of the many blessings He provides through others. The greatest gift is the gift of love for it makes us aware of all that is good.

Some are wise enough to appreciate the things on which life hinges. The boy learned the value of the hinge the hard way.

"For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder; and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The Mighty God, The everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace." This child. History's hinge.

2. Bridge Building Belongs to You and Me

Illustration

Brett Blair

Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall told this story: There were two unmarried sisters who had such a bitter fight that they stopped speaking to each other. Unable or unwilling to leave their small home, they continued to use the same rooms and sleep in the same bedroom. A chalk line divided the sleeping area into two halves. The chalk divided rooms so that both sisters could come and go and get her own meals without trespassing on their sister's space. In the black of night, each could hear the breathing and snoring of the foe. For years they coexisted in grinding silence. Neither was willing to take the first step to reconciliation.

Then one night one sister got up to go to the bathroom and fell, breaking her hip. The other sister awakened by the fall and the scream of pain jumped out of bed crossed the chalk line and came to her sister's side. After a few typical sister jabs at why she would do such a foolish thing as trip on her own feet, the sister held her foe of the past few years until the paramedics came and carried her to the hospital with her sister at her side. In those moments of darkness came the truth and power of love and light.

In telling this story Thurgood Marshall was speaking about the legal system. He made his point with these words: "the legal system can force open doors, and sometimes even knock down walls, but it cannot build bridges. That job belongs to you and me."

3. A Christian Christmas?

Illustration

David B. Curtis

When you think about Christmas, what comes to your mind? Most, if not all, of us have celebrated Christmas in the traditional fashion since we were born. From my earliest memories, Christmas was presents, presents, and more presents. I can remember my brother and I staying up all night waiting for the appointed hour when we could rush to the living room and open our presents. One year my brother and I figured up the dollar amount of all of our gifts to see if our parents had spent the same amount on both of us. Laurie was very young then and we didn't care what she got. In my memory, Christmas is opening a lot of gifts and spending the day playing with them. Thoughts of Christmas bring different things to the minds of different people. Many things are associated with Christmas: lights, trees, presents, food, Santa Clause, family gatherings, and sometimes even the birth of Christ.

How much of Christmas is Christian? We associate it with the birth of Christ, and in some way see it as a celebration of His birth, but does it honor His birth? Is there really anything Christian about Christmas?

4. A Grim Anniversary

Illustration

Scott Hoezee

Suppose you had been a Christian believer in the mid-first century. Suppose you were observing Christmas and the birth of Jesus the Savior in whatever way the earliest church celebrated that season. But suppose that in the midst of marking Jesus' advent, you ran into a Jewish couple who trembled with rage at the very mention of this Jesus whose birth Christmas marks. Suppose further that upon inquiring what accounted for their vitriol and disdain, you discovered that the Jesus whose birth you get so excited about had been the cause of their own child's death. "Our two-year-old precious son died because your Jesus was born. We hate what you call Christmas. For us it is a season of death, a grim anniversary of our little one's violent demise at the hands of King Herod's thugs."

What would you say? It's a far-fetched scenario, but the biblical fact of the matter is that there were parents in the area around Bethlehem who really did weep over their slain toddlers and infants. What's more, it was relatively easy to connect the dots that would trace the sequence of events that led to this infanticide directly back to Jesus, the son of Mary. What do we make of this? What could we have said to grieving parents whose children died because Jesus was born? These are not easy questions. But then, this Lectionary reading for the Sunday after Christmas is not a pleasant story.

5. Ready All the Time

Illustration

Billy D. Strayhorn

Charles L. Allen tells about an outstanding businessman, J. Arthur Rank. Mr. Rank has an elevator straight up to his office, but he does not use it. He prefers the stairs, and he calls them his "Prayer Stairs." When he walks up those stairs in the morning, he takes each step separately and deliberately, and he prays to God to guide him every step he takes that day. In the morning he walks up those stairs asking God's help. In the evening he walks down those same steps thanking God for the help God has given that day.

Mr. Rank is ready for Christmas. Mr. Rank is ready for anything. Unfortunately, there are too many people who think that Christmas is to be celebrated by working up some mushy, sentimental feelings about God and the Christ child one day out of the year and then putting those feelings back on the shelf or back in the trunks and baggage for another 365 days. Those folks aren't really ready for Christmas. They're not ready for the birth of Christ in their lives. And that's what we are preparing for, isn't it? We are preparing for Christ's birth within the hearts and souls of each of us. And if we are prepared, then Christ will be born in us this Christmas.

6. There Had to Be a Father

Illustration

William G. Carter

Pastor William Carter said that on his Christmas vacation during his first year in college, he had become an expert on the birds and the bees. Biology was his major, and after a semester in the freshman class, he was certain that he knew more biology than most adults did in his hometown ... including his minister. A few days before Christmas, he stopped in to see his minister, who received him warmly and asked how he had fared in his first semester. “Okay,” he replied, avoiding the subject of his mediocre grades. But then he told his pastor, "I’ve come home with some questions.”

“Really?” the pastor replied. “Like what?”

“Like the virgin birth. I’ve taken a lot of biology, as you know,” which meant one semester in which he received a B-, “and I think this whole business of a virgin birth doesn’t make much sense to me. It doesn’t fit with what I have learned in biology class.”

“What’s the problem?” he asked.

“There had to be a father,” he announced. “Either it was Joseph or somebody else.”

His pastor looked at him with a coy smile and said, “How can you be so sure?”

“Oh, come on,” he said. “That’s not the way it works. There had to be a father.”

His pastor didn’t back down. Instead he said something that Carter said he’ll never forget: “So — why not God?”

Why not, indeed? The more we learn, the harder it is to swallow a lot of things that once seemed so palatable. Advent is a season of wonder and mystery. We tell our children stories at this time of year that we would never dare tell when it is warmer and there is more sunlight. The really wise child is the kid who knows how to shut his mouth even when he has a few doubts. But sometimes it is hard to do, especially when you have a whole four months of college behind you.

7. Three Ways of Viewing Christmas

Illustration

Harry Reasoner

The basis for this tremendous annual burst of gift buying and parties and near hysteria is a quiet event that Christians believe actually happened a long time ago. You can say that in all societies there has always been a midwinter festival and that many of the trappings of our Christmas are almost violently pagan. But you come back to the central fact of the day and quietness of Christmas morning—the birth of God on earth.

It leaves you only three ways of accepting Christmas. One is cynically, as a time to make money or endorse the making of it. One is graciously, the appropriate attitude for non-Christians, who wish their fellow citizens all the joys to which their beliefs entitle them. And the third, of course, is reverently. If this is the anniversary of the appearance of the Lord of the universe in the form of a helpless babe, it is a very important day. It's a startling idea, of course. My guess is that the whole story that a virgin was selected by God to bear His Son as a way of showing His love and concern for man is not an idea that has been popular with theologians.

It's a somewhat illogical idea, and theologians like logic almost as much as they like God. It's so revolutionary a thought that it probably could only come from a God that is beyond logic, and beyond theology. It has a magnificent appeal. Almost nobody has seen God, and almost nobody has any real idea of what He is like. And the truth is that among men the idea of seeing God suddenly and standing in a very bright light is not necessarily a completely comforting and appealing idea. But everyone has seen babies, and most people like them. If God wanted to be loved as well as feared he moved correctly here. If He wanted to know His people as well as rule them, He moved correctly here, for a baby growing up learns all about people. If God wanted to be intimately a part of man, He moved correctly, for the experiences of birth and familyhood are our most intimate and precious experiences.

So it comes beyond logic. It is either all falsehood or it is the truest thing in the world. It's the story of the great innocence of God the baby—God in the form of man—and has such a dramatic shock toward the heart that if it is not true, for Christians, nothing is true.

So, if a Christian is touched only once a year, the touching is still worth it, and maybe on some given Christmas, some final quiet morning, the touch will take.

8. The Christmas Candy Cane

Illustration

Staff

Tradition holds that a candy maker wanted to make a candy that would be a witness, so he made the Christmas Candy Cane. He incorporated several symbols for the birth, ministry, and death of Jesus Christ. He began with a stick of pure white hard candy: white to symbolize the Virgin Birth and the sinless nature of Jesus, and hard to symbolize the solid rock, the Foundation of the Church and firmness of the promises of God.

The candy maker made the candy in the form of a "J" to represent the name of Jesus, who came to earth as our Savior. It could also represent the staff of the Good Shepherd with which He reaches down into the ditches of the world to lift out the fallen lambs who, like all sheep, have gone astray. Thinking that the candy was somewhat plain, the candy maker stained it with red stripes. He used three small stripes for the blood shed by Christ on the cross, so that we could have the promise of eternal life.

Another description is as follows:

The Candy Cane, used during the holidays, stands as an important Christmas symbol. A candy maker wanted to come up with an idea to express the meaning of Christmas through the imagination of candy. That is when he came up with the idea of the Candy Cane. There are several different symbols incorporated through the Candy Cane. First, he used a plain white peppermint stick. The color white symbolizes the purity and sinless nature of Jesus. Next, he decided to add three small stripes to symbolize pain inflicted upon Jesus before his death on the cross and a bold stripe to represent the blood he shed for mankind. Two other symbols are distinctive on the Candy Cane. When looked at, it looks like a shepherd's staff because Jesus is the shepherd of man. Then if you turn it upside down, you will notice the shape of the letter J symbolizing the first letter in Jesus' name. These five symbols were incorporated into this piece of peppermint stick so that we would remember what we really celebrate the Christmas season.

Wikipedia covers the German origins:

In 1670, in Cologne, Germany, the choirmaster at Cologne Cathedral, wishing to remedy the noise caused by children in his church during the Living Crèche tradition of Christmas Eve, asked a local candy maker for some "sugar sticks" for them. In order to justify the practice of giving candy to children during worship services, he asked the candy maker to add a crook to the top of each stick, which would help children remember the shepherds who visited the infant Jesus. In addition, he used the white color of the converted sticks to teach children about the Christian belief in the sinless life of Jesus. From Germany, candy canes spread to other parts of Europe, where they were handed out during plays reenacting the Nativity. The candy cane became associated with Christmastide.

9. Prepare the Way - Sermon Starter

Illustration

Brett Blair

His name was John. People knew him locally as the Baptist. Some would say of him that he was a religious eccentric. Others less kind would dismiss him as being simply a flake. He definitely did not seem to be the kind of "How to win friends and influence people" type of personality to usher in the news of the Messiah's coming. He just somehow doesn't seem to fit in with shepherds and wise men and the other characters that we traditionally associate with the Christmas story. Yet, this was God's unlikely servant chosen to herald the spectacular events that would soon follow. A most unlikely promotions man to be sure, but God's man nevertheless.

From the very beginning everything about John was unique. His mother Elizabeth was related to Mary, the mother of Jesus. Elizabeth conceived six months before Mary. But Mary happened to be a very young girl, indeed almost a child. Most scholars put her probable age at thirteen. It was not unusual for a girl in that day and time to be of childbearing age at such a tender age. Indeed, it is not unheard of even in cotemporary America.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, was a woman who was in the golden years of her life. She had never given birth to a child. You would think of her more in the category of great grandmother than mother. Yet, she and her aging priest of a husband were the unlikely candidates. It's not out of the question today with recent advances in medicine, but beg the grandmother's here today, don't take this as a word from the Lord!

And then there was John himself. Being the same age as Jesus they grow up together, played together, yet as they reached adulthood they were different in so many ways. When John began his ministry he lived in the desert solitude of Judea, a rugged desert wilderness. He fed on honey and wild locust and dressed in garments of camel hair. He constantly brooded over the scriptures, especially the prophetic ministry of Elijah, after whom he modeled his own ministry.

Nor was John a respecter of persons or rank. He had an intimidating personality. For that reason the upper class folk rejected both he and his message. You can read about that in Luke 7:29.

Yet, John gathered a respectable following. He attracted many hearers among the lower class, many of whom received baptism by his hands. John even drew a group of disciples around him, which is significant for two reasons. First, some of these disciples later became disciples of our Lord. Secondly, a number of people began to think of John himself as being the long expected Messiah. For that reason John's gospel felt obliged to specifically point out "There was a man sent from God whose name was John, He came for testimony to bear witness to the light that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but he came to bear witness to the light.

What drew people to John and his message? Well, John was far-fetched. His austere life style was a compelling reason to listen to him and perhaps his strange ways convinced some people to follow him. I think many thought he was Elijah the prophet who returned. But there was more to John than simply a bizarre strange life. John understood that God was about to do something that would shake the foundations of the earth and he needed to prepare the way for that event. He did this in basically three ways.

1. John lived a godly life.
2. John challenged the people's sins.
3. John pointed the way to Christ.

10. The Messiah Is among You

Illustration

Larry Bethune

You remember the story about the old monastery which was down to just three monks? Years had passed since anyone joined the order. Its time had passed and these three monks figured they would be the last. The abbot in charge shared his sadness with a friend, the neighboring rabbi. The rabbi looked surprised. "Oh no," he said. "Your order will not die. Your monastery will not close. I have had a revelation that the Messiah is among you. So, no, you will not close." The Abbot returned to the other monks scratching his head, and told his two colleagues. They were all astonished. And suddenly, they began to see each other in an entirely new light. They began to take care of each other as never before, as if they were taking care of the Messiah. They listened to each other as they had never listened before, as if they were listening to the Messiah. They blessed one another as they had never blessed one another before, as if they were blessing the Messiah. Visitors to the monastery noticed the quality of the monks care for one another. It was beautiful. And it was contagious. People wanted to experience what they experienced. People wanted to join, and when they did, they were told the secret: "Sh-h-h-h-h! The Messiah is here among us!" And each met the Messiah in the other until all were drawn close in the love of God.

11. Christmas as a Prisoner of War

Illustration

Thomas A. Pilgrim

It was the Christmas of 1968. Gerald Coffee was spending his third Christmas in prison. His Vietnamese guards gave some candy to him and to his fellow prisoners-of-war. He heard the guards outside talking and laughing with their families, celebrating Christmas. One of the guards had a son who was about three or four. Coffee thought of his own children back home. He ate the candy and looked at the red and silver foil. He began to form that foil into three shapes — a swan, a rosette, and a star. He thought of the star of Bethlehem. He placed those three shapes above his bed. He laid there looking at them. Then, he began thinking about the birth of Christ. He knew it was only faith that was getting him through this experience. He wrote later that in that place there was nothing to distract him from the awesomeness of Christmas, even though he had lost everything that defined who he was. He wrote, "Yet, I continued to find strength within. I realized that although I was hurting and lonely and scared, this might be the most significant Christmas of my life."

12. Waiting - Sermon Starter

Illustration

Brett Blair

As a child I remember that the most difficult part of Christmas was simply waiting for it to come. From Thanksgiving to December 25 seemed more like an eternity than a month. Days seemed like weeks. Weeks felt like seasons. Time seemed to stand still.

Waiting is foreign to our society. It seems unnatural. We hunger for immediate gratification. The idea of delayed satisfaction is a stranger to our thinking.

The symbols of our unwillingness to wait are all around us. Fast food chains boom because we don't have time to eat. We stand in crooked lines, then yell out an order, get it down in five minutes and then get back to the rat race. We haven't got time to sit down and read a book anymore. Perhaps it is a sign of the times that we have condensed versions of the Bible. In kitchens all over America there are gadgets to get the meal prepared quickly. I would guess Mr. Coffee started it all. Simply spoon in the coffee and pour water. The coffee is made before you can even find a cup. When we become sick we want to be made well now, not later. Medicine, doctors, pastoral care and love are often rejected if they are not swift.

I, like you, accept most of our no—wait approach to life, with the exception of instant potatoes, which are intolerable. But the truth is that, though we do not like waiting, waiting is a part of living. We must wait for payday, a break, quitting time, and for the mailman. When you do your Christmas shopping, you had certainly better be prepared to wait in a line to get checked out, wait to get a parking place, and wait through at least four red lights before making a left hand turn on Poplar Ave.

But there are also very serious matters for which we wait. Some wait for health to return, some for the coming of food stamps, some for marriage or remarriage. We must wait for peace. A scared child waits for the coming of morning, and a scared adult awaits death. And an expectant mother waits for delivery. Waiting can be pure agony. It's like the jury is out.

The problem is that scripture time and time again tells us that God's clock is wound in a different way. Time is different to him. We look at seconds; he looks at the ages. Waiting, not hurrying is one of his characteristics. And this waiting God tells his people that often, they too must wait.

And that is where the story of Christmas really begins. It begins thousands of years before the birth of Christ. They longed for that one who would bring light out of darkness, and make the blind to see. They

Longed for that one who would turn their sorrow into joy, and vanquish their enemies. But, God said, you must wait. Let us look at how God's people have waited throughout the ages…

1. Waiting in the Old Testament
2. John the Baptist's Waiting
3. The Waiting in Advent

13. He Set His Face

Illustration

Richard A. Jensen

He had just finished feeding the 5,000 men plus women and children when he asked them the question (Luke 9:10-17). In this context of feeding people (cf. Luke 24:28-35) Jesus asked his disciples, "Who do the crowds say that I am?" (Luke 9:18). We stand here at a turning point in Luke's story of Jesus. In earlier stories of Jesus' baptism, genealogy, temptation and a sabbath in his hometown synagogue Luke has given us all kinds of clues as to the identity of Jesus. After that there comes action. Jesus healed people. He forgave sinners. He called disciples. He challenged sabbath laws and so on. It's time now to return to the question of identity. Do even the disciples understand who this man is? Does anyone really understand?

The disciples answered Jesus question by stating the opinions of some in the crowds. Jesus' then zeroes in on the disciples themselves. "But who do you say that I am?" (Luke 9:20). "The Messiah of God," Peter answered.

And then Jesus did a surprising thing. He acknowledged that Peter had the right answer to his question. But he told the disciples not to tell anyone the truth of his identity. The coming of the Messiah would move Israel from one degree of glory to another. But Jesus was not to be this Messiah of glory. Jesus was to be a Messiah on a cross. Jesus tells it straight in a new revelation of his identity. "The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised" (Luke 9:22).

The disciples must have been stunned. They had glory on their minds, too. But, no, the way of this Messiah was to be a way of suffering for him and for the disciples. "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me" (Luke 9:23). The disciples never could get this through their heads. In the story of the transfiguration which Luke tells next we hear Jesus discussing the departure he would accomplish in Jerusalem. Jesus, that is, was discussing with Moses and Elijah his way to Jerusalem, his way to the cross. And the disciples? They wanted to build booths and live on this mountain of glory and transfiguration forever. They did not know what they were saying, Luke tells us.

This hardness of heart of the disciples appears again when they all come down from the Mount of Transfiguration. A man comes to Jesus in order that Jesus might heal his son who is possessed by a demon. "I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not," the father says to Jesus. Jesus proceeds to wonder aloud about the faithless disciples. He tells them again, therefore, of his mission. "Let these words sink into your ears," he tells them, "The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into human hands." Sadly Luke tells us of the disciples that, "... they did not understand this saying; its meaning was concealed from them, so they could not perceive it" (Luke 9:44-45). The disciples prove the truth of this statement by turning to a discussion among themselves about which one of them was the greatest. They're still thinking of glory!

Jesus has revealed that he must go to Jerusalem to suffer, to die and to be raised again. The disciples don't get it at all. With his heart heavy with the suffering that lay ahead, therefore, and with his mind puzzled by disciples who failed to understand, Jesus set his face to go to Jerusalem.

14. Waiting For Christmas

Illustration

John E. Sumwalt

There was a little girl named Lucinda who couldn't wait for Christmas to come. She was so excited about Christmas that she was about to burst! Lucinda loved everything about Christmas. She loved singing Christmas carols, she loved decorating the tree and sending Christmas cards, she loved shopping and wrapping the presents. But, most of all, she loved unwrapping presents on Christmas morning. She couldn't wait to see what she was going to get.

And one year she didn't wait! She sneaked into the closet where her mom and dad had hidden her presents and she peeked. She unwrapped the presents just enough to see what she was going to get. At first she was very excited, because she liked the presents and she couldn't wait to play with them. But later, she began to feel sad. All of the excitement of waiting was gone. Now she didn't have anything to look forward to on Christmas morning.

That night, at the Christmas Eve service, the little girl listened as the Christmas story was read from the Bible. She knew the story well, and she especially liked the part where the angel told the shepherds about the birth of the baby Jesus. How excited they must have been as they made their way to Bethlehem. Their people had been waiting a long, long time for the Messiah to come. Even though it had taken many years, they had never given up hope. And how special it must have been to see the baby Jesus in the manger, even though the angel told them exactly what they were going to see.

"Maybe that's how it will be for me when I open my presents," the little girl thought, and she began to get excited about Christmas morning all over again. And when Lucinda opened her presents the next morning, what do you suppose happened? She was surprised! She didn't get any of the presents she had peeked at! Her sister got all of those. She had peeked at the wrong presents! What a relief it was, and what a valuable lesson she had learned. She would never, ever even try to peek at her presents again! She would wait patiently, and with great excitement, for Christmas to come. She would wait as long as it took.

15. The Messianic Age

Illustration

Adrian Dieleman

The Messianic Age. This is what every Jewish child of God was hoping, praying, and waiting for. It is easy to see why when we hear God's Old Testament promises about the Messianic Age:

(Isa 2:2) In the last days the mountain of the Lord's temple will be established as chief among the mountains; it will be raised above the hills, and all nations will stream to it.
(Isa 2:4) They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.
(Isa 35:5-7) Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped. (6) Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy. Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert. (7) The burning sand will become a pool, the thirsty ground bubbling springs. In the haunts where jackals once lay, grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.
(Isa 60:3,10-13) Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn. (13) "Foreigners will rebuild your walls, and their kings will serve you ... (11) Your gates will always stand open, they will never be shut, day or night, so that men may bring you the wealth of the nations their kings led in triumphal procession. (12) For the nation or kingdom that will not serve you will perish; it will be utterly ruined. (13) "The glory of Lebanon will come to you, the pine, the fir and the cypress together, to adorn the place of my sanctuary; and I will glorify the place of my feet.
(Isa 65:20-21,25) "Never again will there be in it an infant who lives but a few days, or an old man who does not live out his years; he who dies at a hundred will be thought a mere youth; he who fails to reach a hundred will be considered accursed. (21) They will build houses and dwell in them; they will plant vineyards and eat their fruit ... (25) The wolf and the lamb will feed together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox, but dust will be the serpent's food. They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain," says the LORD.

What wonderful, beautiful promises. No wonder God's Jewish children could hardly wait for the Messianic Age.

The Old Testament Scriptures clearly state that the beauty and wonder of the Messianic Age will become a reality; but this will be so only with the coming of the Messiah. The Messiah. It is He Who brings about the Messianic Age.

Today, in the story of Jesus' baptism, Matthew tells his Jewish audience that the Messiah has come and that the Messianic Age is about to begin. And, in a departure from Jewish expectations about the Messiah, Matthew tells his Jewish audience that Messiah Jesus has come to take the sinner's place.

16. Who Do You Say He Is?

Illustration

Herb Miller

If I told you to pull out a piece of paper and write on it who you say Jesus is what would you write? We all have some answer; we all have some images of Jesus. Some of them are the images we learned as children in Sunday school which have proved troubling and we don't' have anything to replace them with. Sometimes we dismiss Jesus on the basis of what we knew about Jesus at age six. Some of us have never examined the evidence for ourselves.

One of my main goals in preaching is to gain a fresh hearing for Jesus, especially among those who believe they already understand him. I'm sorry to tell you this, but you probably don't. Because what happens sometimes is that presumed familiarity has led to unfamiliarity. Jesus is sometimes obstructed by clouds of well-intentioned misinformation.

But ultimately, rather than give you my answer to the question I'd rather challenge you to answer the question for yourself because that's the only answer that matters. Is he Messiah? If that's what you think, what does that mean? Jesus clearly didn't' fit into what a Messiah was expected to be. Messiahs were supposed to have power, were supposed to take charge, were supposed to set things right and free the Jews from political expression. But Jesus refused to stiff arm anybody. He refused to dominate or to take up arms.

Is he Savior? OK. But what is he saving us from and what is he saving us to? Some people clearly had no interest in being saved. When Jesus said the poor are precious and the rich are in big trouble, only those on one side of that equation found it intriguing.

Is he Teacher? Surely, but is that all?

Who do you say he is? Messiah, Savior, Lord, shaman, teacher, friend, prophet, prince of peace?

Now, as you try and answer that question, don't be too alarmed if you cant' nail it down. Even those of us who wrestle with the question regularly find it difficult, because Jesus is sometimes downright incomprehensible; he is often enigmatic, ambiguous. From the very beginning, who Jesus was, what he was about, was far from self-evident. There were people who stood face-to-face with Jesus and said, "This is God incarnate." There appear to be many more who said, "This man is nuts." Although I think that for most of us, the biggest issue isn't that we've listened to Jesus and found him incomprehensible; it's that we've listened to him and found him too damned difficult.

17. A John the Baptist Christmas Card

Illustration

Darrick Acre

I love receiving Christmas cards. I especially like Christmas cards with good Christian artwork on the cover. The lion with the lamb; the three wise men and the message, "Wise Men Still Seek Him;" the Madonna and child; or the star piercing the darkness over stable and manger; all are beautiful depictions of the Christmas story. Again, I am positive that as a group we have all perused thousands of Christmas cards like these. Yet I do not recall ever receiving one with John the Baptist preaching in the desert. Do you? I can picture it in my mind: a card front marred by the dead, barren wilderness of Judea out by the Jordan River, with this animated, prophetic figure as the focal point. But I have never read one that even closely resembles such a scene. Have you?

John the Baptist is totally inappropriate for the way we celebrate Christmas. Christmas is about the birth of Jesus as Matthew and Luke report that holy night many years ago. Mary, Joseph, angels, manger, shepherds, wise men; a child is born unto us. Glory to God in the highest! That is what Christmas is all about. Jesus is the reason for the season. So we honor sweet, little Jesus boy, get warm fuzzies, and hug our family members. What does John the Baptist have do with Christmas?

For Mark, everything. Instead of Bethlehem and choirs of angels, he begins the story of Jesus' coming with a prophet blaring and baptizing in the wilderness of Judea. In so doing, he adds a new figure to the good news about the incarnation and coming of the Christ. It is John the Baptist. Throughout the centuries the church has recognized Mark's unique contribution through its observance of Advent in preparation for the celebration of Christmas.

18. The Meaning of Christmas

Illustration

Delphia Cline Freeman

When the hustle and bustle is over
And the last of the gifts has been wrapped,
And the cookies and cakes are all ready
For the big Christmas plans you have mapped;

When the children are quiet and dreaming
Of the presents Saint Nick will bestow,
And the fire on the hearth burns less brightly,
And the clock has struck twelve long ago;

You relax by the embers and ponder
On this happiest evening of all ...
On the meaning of Christmas to mankind
By Christ' s birth in the low cattle stall.

In the giving of gifts upon Christmas,
People pattern the Father above
Who, in giving His Son, gave His best gift ...
So the meaning of Christmas is love.

19. Christ, Incarnation of

Illustration

Michael P. Green

The story is told of Shah Abbis, a Persian monarch who loved his people very much. To know and understand them better, he would mingle with his subjects in various disguises. One day he went as a poor man to the public baths and in a tiny cellar sat beside the fireman who tended the furnace. When it was mealtime the monarch shared his coarse food and talked to his lonely subject as a friend. Again and again he visited and the man grew to love him. One day the Shah told him he was the monarch, expecting the man to ask some gift from him. But the fireman sat gazing at his ruler with love and wonder and at last spoke, “You left your palace and your glory to sit with me in this dark place, to eat of my coarse food, to care whether my heart is glad or sorry. On others you may bestow rich presents, but to me you have given yourself, and it only remains for me to pray that you never withdraw the gift of your friendship.”

This beautiful story reminds us that Christ, whose birth we celebrate at Christmas, left the glories of heaven in order to share himself with us. That gift of his love and friendship will never be withdrawn from us. He chose to be your friend and mine forever.

20. For He Shall Save His People - Sermon Starter

Illustration

I have a Christmas dilemma. When I was a kid there was no Christmas dilemma. You filled out your wish list and you waited for Santa to fulfill it on the 25th. That was pretty awesome. The rest of the year didn't work like that so it made Christmas a strange and wonderful time. But you know what happens? Slowly the tables get turned on you until one day you're being handed the wish list. Such is life!

This is when the dilemma enters in too. Not for everyone. There are still some sad sacks out there who are 40 years old still filling out their wish list like their 4. But for those who are keenly aware and can read between the lines, you will take note that when the Angel meets the shepherds out abiding their fields he says, "Peace good will toward men." That's well and good and fits my four year old concept of Christmas. But the second part of the verse never gets quoted. Our culture curiously ignores its presence. Here is the whole verse: "Peace, good will toward with men, with whom he is pleased."

What does that mean? It makes me want to run and hide more that it makes me want to sing Jingle Bells. Look at our text in Matthew 1:21. The same strange thing occurs. The angel tells Joseph, "Don't be afraid to take Mary as you wife because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus" Sounds like the Christmas we all know. But then there's the matter of another unfinished verse which ends, "You are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins."

That's the dilemma. That baby is the greatest gift ever given. But it's as if someone handed you a beautifully wrapped gift and said, John, I am giving you this because I love you. And when you open it it's a copy of Alcoholics Anonymous, or When Bad Things Happen To Good People, or a new copy of Miss Manners. You can't miss the message that someone is trying to tell you something. Christmas tells me that God has launched a great rescue mission. That is the message that is presented in the Advent story over and over again. In fact, the name Jesus (which is, of course Greek because the New Testament was written in Greek) is the Hebrew equivalent of Joshua, which translated means: The Lord will save.

The Advent message says to us that in the midst of our depressions, our fears, the mundane of living, a rescuer is coming because we need rescuing. The church teaches that sin is like quicksand. You know what happens when you get stuck in quicksand and try to get yourself out. You only end up getting in deeper and deeper. The Unitarian church affirms that man is capable. If he is just shown the right way and is properly motivated he will do what is right. The Christian church says just the opposite. It says that man is not capable of extricating himself from the messes that he gets into. He is in need of a rescuer, and that is precisely what God has given us in the person of Jesus. Someone to save us. And the price of the rescue mission is a costly one. Blood is shed. Christ who was born in Bethlehem was also born to die. That is why one of the gifts that the wise men bring the Christ child is the gift of Myrrh. It was an embalming agent. It is to remind us always that the child was sent to die.

But the great tragedy is that after this costly rescue mission has been launched, so often our response to it is thanks but no thanks. We don't want to be rescued. We did not ask for a rescuer and we do not want one. That is the dilemma that we find ourselves in. God has sent us a Savior, and there are a whole lot of people who don't want to be saved.

Well, you say, how ridiculous. Everyone wants to be saved. On an intellectual basis, perhaps, but on an emotional basis where decisions are really made (and I am convinced that most of our decisions in life are emotional ones and not intellectual ones --I think studies prove this) I am not so sure that we do want salvation. Indeed, I think that we even resist salvation. Oh, it is true that we sing songs in church like Rescue The Perishing but the problem is that we usually don't have us in mind when we sing it. We have someone else in mind. Who of us wants to be counted among the fallen, the erring, the perishing. Who of us wants to change or be changed? We rebel at the thought of being snatched in pity from sin. That is the truth of the matter. This morning I would like for us to look at several reasons why we reject this great rescue mission that God had given to us. We reject it because...

We have a misconception of what salvation really means.
We believe we can save ourselves through their own cleverness.
We are uncomfortable with the Biblical image of power - power through vulnerability.

21. Preparing the Way, Preparing Our Hearts

Illustration

Scott Hoezee

All four gospels talk about John the Baptist and his fiery message of repentance. Two of the four gospels do not mention Jesus' birth at all. But Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John all recognized that no gospel would be complete without John the Baptist. A gospel may skip Christmas but it may not skip John. Why? Because as Zechariah knew already when John was just eight days old, John was going to be the necessary advance man to get the world ready to receive Jesus. If Jesus was the one who would plant the mustard seed of the kingdom into the soil of this world, then John was to be the one who did the hard work of plowing the soil to get ready for that planting. John would be the one who would sink down his plow blade into human hearts that were the spiritual equivalent of a parched field whose dirt had long ago hardened into something resembling concrete.

If Jesus was God's divine Visitor to this world, then John was the one who was sent to prepare the way. Because God knew and John the Baptist knew: how the visit of God's Son would be received would very much depend on people's situation. If they were eager to hear the good news that God's tender mercies were available to forgive their sins, then they'd be glad to hear just that message from the lips of Jesus. But if people didn't think they had a problem with sin, then the visit of God's Son would be merely annoying and a waste of their time. John worked overtime to ensure that no one had that reaction.

22. Consider Again Christmas

Illustration

Brian L. Harbour

Consider Again Christmas

When Pope Julius I authorized December 25 to be celebrated as the birthday of Jesus in A.D. 353, who would have ever thought that it would become what it is today.

When Professor Charles Follen lit candles on the first Christmas tree in America in 1832, who would have ever thought that the decorations would become as elaborate as they are today.

It is a long time since 1832, longer still from 353, longer still from that dark night brightened by a special star in which Jesus the king was born. Yet, as we approach December 25 again, it gives us yet another opportunity to pause, and in the midst of all the excitement and elaborate decorations and expensive commercialization which surround Christmas today, to consider again the event of Christmas and the person whose birth we celebrate.

23. Have I Got News for You!

Illustration

William L. Self

There's a great Christmas story about a young boy who was given a very important role in the church Christmas play. He was to be the angel and announce the birth of Jesus. For weeks he rehearsed the line that had been given to him, "Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy."

The grandparents got in on it and any time the family was together and the boy was there, they would dress him up in his costume and he would rehearse his part for them, "Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy." They were certain that when he grew up, he would be another Charlton Heston playing Moses because of his dramatic ability.

The great night came for the Christmas pageant and everybody was in place. All the grandparents and extended family were there. Visitors had come in and all the children were in costumes, complete with bathrobes for the three kings and fake wings and halos for the angels. All the mothers were excited and everyone was really into this thing.

As the pageant started, the excitement was electric around the room. The dramatic event in the first part was the announcement of the angel, "Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy." The spotlight hit this young boy and as he stood center stage in the middle of all this excitement, his brain froze. Every grandparent, aunt, uncle and neighbor came to the edge of their seats, wanting to say it for him. You could see them in unison, mouthing, "Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy."

Still, his brain was frozen; he couldn't say it. He tried it, but it just wouldn't come. So, finally, in a heroic moment he filled his lungs with breath and blurted out the words, "Have I got news for you!"

24. Long Walk, Much Love

Illustration

Editor James S. Hewett

The African boy listened carefully as the teacher explained why it is that Christians give presents to each other on Christmas Day. "The gift is an expression of our joy over the birth of Jesus and our friendship for each other," she said.

When Christmas Day came, the boy brought the teacher a sea shell of lustrous beauty. "Where did you ever find such a beautiful shell?" the teacher asked.

The youth told her that there was only one spot where such extraordinary shells could be found—a certain bay several miles away.

"Why... why, it's gorgeous," said the teacher. "But you shouldn't have gone all that way to get a gift for me."

His eyes brightening, the boy answered, "Long walk part of gift."

25. Pick Up the Baby

Illustration

King Duncan

Sam Levenson tells a wonderful story about the birth of his first child. The first night home the baby would not stop crying. His wife frantically flipped through the pages of Dr. Spock to find out why babies cry and what to do about it. Since Spock's book is rather long, the baby cried a long time. Grandma was in the house, but since she had not read the books on child rearing, she was not consulted. The baby continued to cry. Finally, Grandma could be silent no longer. "Put down the book," she told her children, "and pick up the baby."

Good advice. Put down the book and pick up the baby. Spend time with your children. Particularly at Christmas time. We have the mistaken notion that good parents give their children lots of things. Wrong.

In a survey done of fifteen thousand school children the question was asked,"What do you think makes a happy family?" When the kids answered, they didn't list a big house, fancy cars, or new video games as the source of happiness. The most frequently given answer was "doing things together." Notice the joy with which Mary and Elizabeth greeted the news of their pregnancy.

26. Luke 2: The Santa Clause

Illustration

Michael P. Green

What a sad commentary on what the birth of our Lord has come to mean is this all-too-true parody of the wonderful words of Luke’s Christmas narrative.

“And there were in the same country children keeping watch over their stockings by the fireplace. And, Lo! Santa Claus came upon them; and they were sore afraid. And Santa said unto them: “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all the people who can afford them. For unto you will be given great feasts of turkey, dressing and cake; and many presents; and this shall be a sign unto you, you shall find the presents, wrapped in bright paper, lying beneath a tree adorned with tinsel, colored balls and lights. And suddenly, there will be with you a multitude of relatives and friends, praising you and saying, ‘Thank you so much, it was just what I wanted.’ And it shall come to pass as the friends and relatives have gone away into their own homes, the parents shall say to one another, ‘Darn it! What a mess to clean up! I’m tired, let’s go to bed and pick it up tomorrow. Thank goodness, Christmas only comes once a year!’ And they go with haste to their cold bed and find their desired rest.”

27. The Messiah Is Among You

Illustration

William White

There was a famous monastery which had fallen on very hard times. Formerly its many buildings were filled with young monks, and its huge chapel resounded with the singing of the choir. But now it was deserted. People no longer came there to be nourished by prayer. A handful of old monks shuffled through the cloisters and praised God with heavy hearts.

On the edge of the monastery woods, an old rabbi had built a tiny hut. He would come there from time to time to fast and pray. No one ever spoke with him, but whenever he appeared, the word would be passed from monk to monk: "The rabbi walks in the woods." And, for as long as he was there, the monks would feel sustained by his prayerful presence.

One day the abbot decided to visit the rabbi and open his heart to him. So, after the morning Eucharist, he set out through the woods. As he approached the hut, the abbot saw the rabbi standing in the doorway, his arms outstretched in welcome. It was as though he had been waiting there for some time. The two embraced like long-lost brothers. Then they stepped back and just stood there, smiling at one another with smiles their faces could hardly contain.

After a while, the rabbi motioned the abbot to enter. In the middle of the room was a wooden table with the Scriptures open on it. They sat there for a moment, in the presence of the Book. Then the rabbi began to cry. The abbot could not contain himself. He covered his face with his hands and began to cry, too. For the first time in his life, he cried his heart out. The two men sat there like lost children, filling the hut with their sobs and moistening the wood of the table with their tears.

After the tears had ceased to flow and all was quiet again, the rabbi lifted his head. "You and your brothers are serving God with heavy hearts," he said. "You have come to ask a teaching of me. I will give you a teaching, but you can only repeat it once. After that, no one must ever say it aloud again."

The rabbi looked straight at the abbot and said, "The Messiah is among you." For a while, all was silent. Then the rabbi said, "Now you must go." The abbot left without ever looking back.

The next morning, the abbot called his monks together in the chapter room. He told them that he had received a teaching from the rabbi who walks in the woods, and that this teaching was never again to be spoken aloud. Then he looked at each of his brothers and said, "The rabbi said that one of us is the Messiah."

The monks were startled by this saying. "What could it mean?" they asked themselves. "Is brother John the Messiah? No, he's too old and crotchety. Is brother Thomas? No, he's too stubborn and set in his ways. Am I the Messiah? What could this possibly mean?" They were all deeply puzzled by the rabbi's teaching. But no one ever mentioned it again.

As time went by, though, something unusual began to happen at the monastery. The monks began to treat one another with a very special reverence. There was a gentle, wholehearted, human quality about them now which was hard to describe, but easy to notice. They lived with one another as brothers who had finally found something. And yet, they prayed over the Scriptures together as those who were still looking for something. Visitors found themselves deeply moved by the genuine caring and sharing that went on among the brothers. Before long, people were again coming from far and wide to be nourished by the prayer life of these monks. And young men were asking, once again, to become part of the community.

In those days, the rabbi no longer walked in the woods. His hut had fallen into ruins. But somehow or other, the older monks who had taken his teaching to heart still felt sustained by his prayerful presence.

28. Obedience and Compassion

Illustration

Joe Pennel

There is a lot of talk today about what makes Christmas. Newspaper and television advertisements coax people into believing that they can have a real Christmas by going to a festive shopping center, eating at trendy restaurants, or watching glittering "Christmas programs" on television. Others believe that Christmas is made by the fastidious keeping of time-honored family rituals, such as, sentimental ornaments on just the right tree, eating food from a menu which has been handed down from generation to generation, or by visiting the same relatives at precisely the same time on Christmas Day. Some believe that Christmas is made by purchasing a uniquely special gift for every relative, friend, and acquaintance. To be sure, all of these contribute to our cultural understanding of Christmas.

But the answer to "What makes a real Christmas?" must be found in human history. That is what Joseph did. And, in a very real sense, it was the theology of Joseph which made possible the first Christmas. If Joseph had not cooperated with God's action in human history, the birth of Jesus would have been quite different.

The witness of Joseph calls us to cooperate with God's work in today's world. It calls us to respond to God's action among us. Joseph, not having all of the evidence and knowledge of the future, decided to do more than law and custom required. He elected to do more than was expected of him. He let justice and compassion guide his decision about his pregnant betrothed. He was pulled, not by the strength of custom, but by the law of love.

29. Preparation for Christ's Coming

Illustration

Billy D. Strayhorn

Maybe you've heard the story of the little boy who decided to write a letter to God one Christmas. He started out by writing: "Dear God, I've been a really good boy this year." Unfortunately, he remembered that God was all knowing and all seeing and he decided that he couldn't lie to God. So, he crumpled up that letter and started over. This time he wrote: "Dear God, I know I haven't done everything I should have, but I really tried to be good." He stopped and crumpled up that letter, too. It was obvious that he was struggling with what to write to God.

As he sat there thinking he looked up and saw his mother's favorite piece of sculpture on the mantel. It was a beautiful rendition of the Madonna, the mother of Christ. The boy perked up and ran out of the room. He came back with a towel and a shoebox. He walked over, carefully picked up the Madonna, gently wrapped it in the towel, carefully put it in the shoebox and then hid it in the closet. He immediately went back to the table and wrote: "Dear God, if you ever want to see your mother again . . ."

It's time the Church took back Christmas. And we do. Every year we take it back and bring back the meaning and the purpose. The world tries to hold it for ransom each year, with its multiplicity of gadgets and this year's list of must have toys; the world tries to make demands and hold Christmas for ransom but it never works. The birth of the Christ child is just too powerful, even for Wall Street. The sight and the sounds and the remembrance of this child born so long ago changes all the rules. His very presence makes the glitter of our Christmas presents pale in comparison.

30. No Case Against Christmas

Illustration

Staff

In Cincinnati, Ohio a U.S. District Judge in December 1999 threw out a lawsuit challenging the constitutionality of observing Dec. 25 as a federal holiday. The ruling stated that Christmas is celebrated by non-Christians as well as Christians. Susan Dlott said in her dismissal of the lawsuit that just as Christians observe Christmas as a celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, non-Christians celebrate the occasion to welcome the arrival of Santa Claus.

Therefore, she said, Christmas cannot be regarded as a holiday that establishes one religious faith above all others in violation of the demand for a separation of church and state enshrined in the U.S. Constitution's First Amendment. The judge used some original poetic verse to make her point, writing:

Whatever the reason,
constitutional or other,
Christmas is not,
an act of Big Brother.

Richard Ganulin, 48, a lawyer who filed the suit, said he would appeal the dismissal to the Cincinnati-based U.S. Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals on grounds that the judge did not treat the issue with the "strict scrutiny" it deserved.

"She never said what she really meant when she implied that Christmas should be considered as a secular holiday as much as a religious occasion," said Ganulin, who is a member of the city of Cincinnati legal staff but filed the suit last August as an individual.

Ganulin said he realized he had "a long row to hoe" in his quest to end the federal observance of Christmas as a holiday, but expressed hope that the case ultimately would be decided by the U.S. Supreme Court. A Washington-based organization of U.S. Christian employees was granted its request to be added to the lawsuit as a defendant along with the U.S. government.

31. The New Age

Illustration

Thomas Long

Every year at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, there is displayed, beneath the great Christmas tree, a beautiful eighteenth century Neapolitan nativity scene. In many ways it is a very familiar scene. The usual characters are all there: shepherds roused from sleep by the voices of angels; the exotic wise men from the East seeking, as Auden once put it, "how to be human now"; Joseph; Mary; the babe all are there, each figure an artistic marvel of wood, clay, and paint. There is, however, something surprising about this scene, something unexpected here, easily missed by the causal observer. What is strange here is that the stable, and the shepherds, and the cradle are set, not in the expected small town of Bethlehem, but among the ruins of mighty Roman columns. The fragile manger is surrounded by broken and decaying columns. The artists knew the meaning of this event: The gospel, the birth of God's new age, was also the death of the old world.

Herods know in their souls what we perhaps have passed over too lightly: God's presence in the world means finally the end of their own power. They seek not to preserve the birth of God's new age, but to crush it. For Herod, the gospel is news too bad to be endured, for Mary, Joseph, and all the other characters it is news too good to miss.

32. God on The Run!

Illustration

John Thomas Randolph

My copy of the Bible entitles this sub-section of Scripture, "The Flight into Egypt." Cruel Herod the king had been threatened by the birth of Jesus, apparently fearing that Jesus would become a competitor for his own crown. Since that was an intolerable possibility to him, and since he could not be absolutely sure which baby boy was Jesus, he ordered that all the male children in and around Bethlehem who were two-years old or under be killed. Thus it was that an angel of the Lord directed Joseph to take Jesus and Mary and to "flee to Egypt."

Can you imagine it? God on the run! Jesus, the Christ, fleeing for his life!... He is running for his life…

If this scene is shocking for you — and I confess that it is still shocking to me— then hold on, for there is more to come. We can imagine Joseph escaping into Egypt with the baby Jesus. But, surely, we think, if Jesus were only a full-grown man, he would not run from Herod. The evidence, however, does not completely support our thought.

There were times, even as an adult, when Jesus ran away. During the Feast of Dedication in Jerusalemone winter, some people wanted Jesus to tell them "plainly" if he was, indeed, the Christ. When Jesus answered, "Iand the Father are one," they took up stones to stone him. We read, "Again they tried to arrest him, but he escaped from their hands." (John 10:39) Notice that word, "again''; apparently Jesus had to run away on other occasions, too.

There is no getting away from it: Christmas tells us that God chose to make himself vulnerable when he revealed himself in a person who, sometimes, at least, had to run a way from people like Herod and the stone-throwers.

Before we go any further, however, we should say this: Please do not make the mistake of thinking that the vulnerability of Christ is a bad thing. It is not! It is a tremendous thing. In fact, it is the greatest thing in the world. For we are saved by a Christ who "took the form of a servant .. . and humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on across." What men called "the weakness of God" was "the power of God unto salvation." It is a Christ who was willing to risk becoming as vulnerable as we are, who is able to save us from sin by identifying with our human condition and showing us the way back to fellowship with God.

The vulnerability of Christ is a great thing also because it makes it easier for us to admit our own vulnerability. We may like to think that we are super men and women, but we are not. There are powers and people who can hurt us and destroy us. There are times when we need to run away! You see, running away is not always cowardice as many of us have been taught to believe. Running away, at times, may he part of a very wise strategy. As the old saying goes: "He who runs away lives to fight another day."

There are times, of course, when we cannot run away. There are times when we must not run away. There are times when running away is cowardice. Jesus did not run away from his betrayers in the Garden of Gethsemane. There are times when we must stand our ground, no matter what the cost.

Nevertheless, there are other times when it is wise to run away. Timing has a lot to do with it. So do our intentions about returning. For after the time of running away, there should always be a time of returning.

33. No Seagulls Came

Illustration

William B. Oglesby

There's a story from World War II that's been told many times which occurred over the Pacific. Eddie Rickenbacker and some colleagues on an aircraft were shot down and managed to inflate a raft. The food and water were soon expended, and all hope for their rescue seemed to fade. As they related the story later, they described how together they had formed a prayer band and had prayed earnestly for deliverance. It was just at that time that a seemingly miraculous circumstance occurred. A seagull, clearly far off course, began to circle the raft, came lower and lower until at last they were able to capture it. They drank its blood and ate its flesh and were strengthened and sustained. The next day they were found and brought safely to shore. They told the story, and there was spread across the pages of the newspapers of the United States this answer to prayer.

The story then began to take a rather distorted turn. Without anyone really meaning to be judgmental or to cast aspersion on anyone else, there arose the notion that if only one had ample faith, a seagull would come. Now its a spiritual cause and effect; if only we had ample faith, our seagull would come. What about the hundreds of young fliers who had gone off to the Pacific, had been shot down, and were never seen again. We should resist with every fiber of our being the notion that somehow these were persons who had little if any faith, else a seagull would most certainly have come. The presence of the seagull for the persons on that raft was certainly a token that deliverance is always possible; at the same time, there was and is no indication in the New Testament that such deliverance on its own terms is promised. John dies in the prison; almost all the disciples are martyred. There were many persons in Jerusalem and Judea and Samaria in the time of Jesus who were not healed. There were many fliers for whom no seagull came. "Blessed is he that taketh no offense."

And the meaning for us? The basic assurance is that all things are working together for good, as Paul reminds us in Romans 8, and that nothing can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. But this is no guarantee of deliverance from all of the difficulties which beset us. Indeed, we are reminded in John 16 that "in the world we will have tribulation; but we can be of good cheer, for he has overcome the world." The true meaning of faith, then, is the capacity to believe even when no seagull comes, to know that beyond the vicissitudes and tribulations of life there is life transcendent; there is no more suffering nor sorrow nor crying.

34. A Choice for Righteousness and Not Evil

Illustration

Wayne Peterson

During the Second World War Dr. Ernest Gordon, later Chaplain of Princeton University, was a prisoner of war in Thailand. In his book, Through the Valley of the Kwai, he reflects on the difference between two Christmas seasons he spent in prison. He says that in Christmas 1942 there were thousands of American soldiers in that prison who robbed the sick among them, mistreated one another, and did not care whether the other prisoners lived or died.

During the following year, a healthy American soldier began giving his food to a sick buddy to help him get well. In time the sick prisoner recovered, but the buddy who had given him food died of malnutrition. The story of the man who sacrificed his life to save a buddy made the rounds of the camp.

Some of the prisoners remarked that he was a lot like Christ. Some of the soldiers began to recall passages from the Bible they had learned years earlier under far different circumstances. One of the passages stated, "This is my commandment that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

Some who were Christians took heart and began to witness to other men. The prisoners began to ask about Christ and to meet for Bible study. When they began to know Christ as Lord the entire atmosphere in the camp changed from despair and desperation to hope and compassion. When Christmas of 1943 arrived, Dr. Gordon said, 2000 prisoners assembled for worship. They sang carols and someone read the story of the birth of Jesus from a Gospel account. Much more was different. In spite of their hunger, prisoners who were well shared food with the sick to help them gain strength faster. They cared for one another. They agreed that the difference came about because of faith in Christ and people who lived his love in the midst of unloving circumstances. The choices they made were for righteousness and not evil.

35. When the Wine Fails

Illustration

John K. Bergland

You have heard a bride say it. You have heard a new mother in the maternity ward say it. You have heard a graduating senior say it: This is the happiest day of my life. Some days are like that; they're special. There are great days in all of our lives. I wonder what was your most wondrous moment? For me such days are filled with extraordinary hope and joy. For me it was the birth of my daughter because it was shared with my wife and family. [state yours].

Life involves many happy affairs the birth of a child, the gatherings of Christmas, a summer vacation. It is often said that to love and be loved is the greatest happiness in the world. For most of us, then, the most significant movement of hope and joy is our wedding day. It's the day we celebrate before God and all our friends the love in our life. Marriage vows are the most profound vows one can make. No other vows are more tender, none are more sacred. No other pledge will so radically shape and claim an individual. The two become one. A home is born. A haven for family is founded. Your place to be is created. But, alas, in too many marriages and in so many lives the wine fails.

36. Christmas

Illustration

John A. Robinson

Bishop Robinson says this about the Christmas story:

Suppose the whole notion of a God who visits the earth in the person of His Son is as mythical as the prince in the fairy story. Suppose there is no realm “out there” from which the man from heaven arrives. Suppose the Christmas myth (the invasion of this side by the other side), as opposed to the Christmas history (the birth of the man, Jesus of Nazareth), has to go. Are we prepared for that? Or are we to cling here to this last vestige of the mythological or metaphysical world view as the only garb in which to clothe the story with power to touch the imagination? Cannot perhaps the supernaturalist scheme survive at least as part of the “magic” of Christmas?

37. THE CHRISTMAS MESSAGE: I LOVE YOU

Illustration

John H. Krahn

Little in life can match the beauty of Christmas Eve - the holy night of celebration. Beauty in abundance surrounds us for a few fleeting hours. Each of us treasures these moments, savoring every tradition. Somehow we love our children a little bit more this night. Our wife, how lovely she looks; our hearts feel special love for her, for him. If we had the power to stop time’s endless march - suspend it momentarily - most of us would do it Christmas Eve. For this is the night when peace pervades our hearts, as hands extend to greet friends and arms reach out to embrace family. How wonderfully good we all feel. We love and are loved. We forgive and are forgiven. We give only to receive in return.

Years ago, many years ago, there was a Christmas much unlike our own. The world didn’t stop for the first Christmas - hardly anyone even noticed. The scent of fresh baked bread and chocolate chip cookies were not the smells of the first Christmas. Straw replaced tinsel and garland. Live animals replaced Handgeschnitzed Holzfigurn and Hummels. A virgin laboring at birth, a carpenter lending an unsteady hand. Animals annoyed at intruders. Angels preparing themselves to startle shepherds. God’s wayward creation about to be invaded by the cosmic Christ. Coming into the humblest surroundings to a no-place city called Bethlehem. This was the first Christmas. How strange ... how wonderfully and beautifully strange.

The first Christmas can only be described as unusual and surprising that the God of a million heavens and a million earths should grace a manger in Bethlehem. Swaddling cloths upon the back of a King, of a God - on the back of the one, true, and only God. Where was the finery one might expect? Nowhere, for it was to the poor he came, to those who were troubled, those who were not completely self-sufficient, those who knew they were not good enough to make heaven by themselves. He came for all humankind, not only that first holy night but for every night of every year and into the present - here, right now.

The Lord Jesus Christ is present with us. He speaks to us once again the message of Christmas as he says to each of us, "I love you. I want to be close to you every day of your lives. Please be wise and invite me in. There is no one who is so perfect that he cannot welcome a fuller participation of my indwelling. There are some who have yet to welcome my powerful presence and, unfortunately, we are only occasional guests of one another and may be strangers in eternity. And to you I say, come, do not live another day without my abundant presence." Now may my Father bless and keep each one of you, and may your voices and lives continuously sing the angelic chorus, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."

38. Ignoring Advent

Illustration

Matthew T. Phillips

If you are comfortable in this world, then I encourage you to ignore Advent. Christmas is the holiday for you. Waiting and hoping are just not worthwhile, so jump to the fun stuff. Advent only makes sense if you want something else to hold on to. If you need to believe that as wonderful as the sun, the moon, and the stars may be, when they fall away it will be because a new, brighter, more perfect light has come and we no longer need those things.

Advent is a special time when we anticipate our favorite stories about Jesus' birth, but if we do it right, it's also a time when we look at ourselves and our world and decide that we shouldn't be comfortable. We shouldn't be comfortable that people are starving a stone's throw away and that their starvation will last long past the holiday season when people are feeling generous with canned goods. We shouldn't be comfortable that we stand on the brink of World War III—that's right, you heard it here first—and our own neighbors worship the flag of one aggressor and the oil of another.

The alternative is to trust in the kind of king who gets born in a feeding trough, who teaches that people who trust in God should not be concerned about their status or well-being in this world, and who gets strung up on a cross for telling the truth to people who were completely comfortable with the world as they knew it.

39. A Teddy Bear and Christmas

Illustration

Bill Bouknight

Jesus often taught by telling parables. These were simple, down-to-earth stories which expressed spiritual truth. Today, on this third weekend of Advent, I want to use a favorite Christmas story as a modern parable. This is a true story, told to me some ten years ago by Dr. Edward Bauman of Washington, D.C.

About 30 years ago a boy named Tony was born into a family in a Midwestern state. He was blind at birth. He suffered from an extremely rare eye problem for which there was no known cure. When the little fellow was about seven years old, his doctor read in the New England Journal of Medicine of a new surgical procedure that showed some promise for correcting this particular problem. A young surgeon at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston had developed it. The local doctor and the surgeon began communicating. The boy's full medical record was sent. A decision was made to try surgery. Since Tony's family could not afford the expenses involved, local churches and civic clubs helped out.

Tony had a favorite teddy bear which he kept with him almost all the time. This teddy bear had begun to show signs of wear. One eye was missing; one ear was chewed off; and through several holes the stuffing was oozing out. Tony's mother told him that she was going to buy him a new teddy bear to take to Boston. Tony rejected that offer in no uncertain terms. What good is a new teddy bear when you have an old, familiar, friendly one already broken in? So, the old teddy bear went to Boston and remained close to Tony through all the medical procedures leading up to surgery: the x-rays, tests, and consultations. In fact, the boy and his teddy bear were not separated until the anesthesia was applied.

Throughout this whole period the boy and the young surgeon were becoming great friends. In fact, the surgeon was almost as excited as the family about the possibilities of this surgery. Somehow there was a good chemistry of friendship and trust between physician and Tony. When the surgery was completed, Tony was heavily bandaged and had to remain quite still for a number of days. That is very hard for a 7 year old. But each day the surgeon was in an out of the room encouraging him.

Finally came the day for removing the bandages. For the first time in seven years of life, a little boy could see. Though the vision was blurred at first, it gradually clarified. For the first time Tony looked into the faces of his parents, saw a tree, and a sunset. The young surgeon was almost literally jumping up and down for joy.

Before long it was time for Tony to be discharged and to go home. The surgeon had been dreading this day because the two of them had become such good friends. On that final morning, the surgeon signed the necessary discharge papers. He gave Tony a big hug and said, "'Listen, I own stock in you. I expect to get letters from you regularly. Do you understand?"

Then Tony did something totally unexpected. He said to his surgeon friend, "I want you to have this," and handed him his teddy bear. The surgeon’s first impulse was to say, "Oh no, I can’t separate you two good friends." But something stopped him. With a flash of sensitive genius, the surgeon understood what Tony was trying to do. He wanted to give his dear surgeon-friend the most precious gift at his disposal, so full was his heart with love. The wise surgeon accepted the teddy bear with a hug and a thank-you, assuring Tony that he would take mighty good care of his friend.

For over ten years that teddy bear sat in a glass case on the tenth floor of Massachusetts General Hospital---one eye missing, one ear chewed half off, and stuffing oozing out of holes. In front of the teddy bear was the surgeon's professional name card. Just beneath his name he had written this caption: "This is the highest fee I have ever received for professional services rendered." A little boy had given the most precious item he had, out of a love-filled heart.

This is a parable of Christmas. 2000 years ago our gracious God, with a heart filled with love, looked out upon a sin-marred, tear-stained world. Had you and I been in charge we might have destroyed the whole mess and started over. But God's great heart was too full of love to allow that. So he gave us the most precious gift at his disposal; he gave himself. "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life."

Confronted by such an awesome gift, our only fitting response is to fall on our knees and to enthrone the living Christ as our personal King of kings and Lord of lords.

40. Christmas Means Hope

Illustration

King Duncan

The late Senator John McCain spent 5 and a half years as a prisoner of war in Vietnam in the 1960s. During that time, he was frequently tortured or held in solitary confinement. He reported that his lowest point came on Christmas Eve 1969. McCain was giving up hope of ever getting out of Vietnam alive. To compound his homesickness, the captors played the song "I'll Be Home for Christmas" over the PA system.

Just then, McCain heard tapping on his cell wall. This was the communication code the POWs used to communicate with one another. On the other side of the wall was Ernie Bruce, a Marine who had been imprisoned for four years already. In spite of his dire situation, Bruce was tapping out, "We'll all be home for Christmas. God bless America." These simple words of comfort restored John McCain's hope. The message of Christmas is always one of hope. This world needs saving, but God began that process of salvation two thousand years ago with the birth of a babe in Bethlehem. There's something about Christmas that elevates us. Christmas is about hope of a better world to come.

41. A Chance to Warm Up

Illustration

Billy D. Strayhorn

In a "Peanuts" cartoon strip, good old Charlie Brown says to Linus, "Life is just too much for me. I've been confused from the day I was born. I think the whole trouble is that we're thrown into life too fast. We're not really prepared." And Linus asks, "What did you want . . . a chance to warm up first?"

The Advent season is supposed to be our chance to warm up. It's that time to prepare our hearts and homes for the birth of the Christ child. It's that time when we put all the decorations in their place, the presents are bought and wrapped, the cards sent out and received, and we get ready for Christmas Day. But if we aren't careful the time of preparation will be over and the big day will be here and it will be just another day. We'll finish opening all the gifts; the room will be strewn with scraps of wrapping paper and ribbon; the turkey or ham will have put up a valiant fight but be nothing but leftovers; and we'll be parked in front of the TV watching one of the games. Then all of a sudden that empty feeling will hit us. That feeling of "What's the use?" That Charlie Brown feeling of something missing, as if we were thrown into Christmas too fast. That's when we'll realize we needed time to warm up.

42. HERALD

Illustration

Stephen Stewart

Daniel 3:4 - "And the herald proclaimed aloud, ‘You are commanded, O peoples, nations, and languages.’ "

How often have we heard on our radios or television screens that the President’s press secretary has made such and such a statement? Or perhaps you are associated with a company that employs a public relations man to present a picture of the company to the buying public. Well, in its biblical sense, both a press secretary and a public relations man can be considered as heralds.

The herald was an officer of the court - in fact, in most instances he was a very high ranking individual indeed. In reading 2 Kings 18:18, we find that Sennacherib’s envoy, who was himself a high ranking official, was received only by the master of the palace, the secretary and the king’s herald. And there is no indication that he was at all affronted by this reception committee, so it must have been an appropriate and customary one!

From the root meaning of the work in Hebrew, we find that the herald is a man who calls, names, reminds, reports. And that very neatly sums up the herald’s duties. He made state and royal proclamations public, and he carried ceremonial messages between princes and powers. The Greek loan word which is used in our text comes from a word which means "one who proclaims." So, you see, his duties were rather obvious, but extremely important. It just didn’t do for the king to make his own announcements. It wasn’t done that way. It had to be done through a herald, and I suppose they were just as susceptible to making errors as we are today. Although, I should imagine, with somewhat more dire consequences! If the President’s press secretary makes an error in a statement, he can always retract it through the news media. But the ancient herald had no such option. He got it right the first time - or else.

And our modern day press secretaries and P.R. men have one other distinct advantage over their ancient counterparts. Today a man can whisper into a microphone, and his words will still carry over the airwaves. But the herald had to have a very loud voice, and had to virtually shout his proclamation!

We are, perhaps, familiar with the idea of heralds from the Christmas carol HARK THE HERALD ANGELS SING, which illustrates perfectly what I have been saying. The herald angels were making a proclamation - an announcement - a message from God to man. They were proclaiming the birth of the new King. The most marvelous announcement the world has ever received!

43. Silent Night

Illustration

James Kegel

The Army chaplain of the 106th Division was captured in the Battle of the Bulge in World War II. Along with many other Americans, he was herded on to a freight car and taken into the heart of Germany.

On the evening of December 23rd, the men were in the railroad yard of a German city, when a devastating attack was made by the British Royal Air Force. Many of the American prisoners were killed as well as many Germans. The next night, Christmas Eve, the air raid was repeated. When the planes began to fly over, there was fear and alarm among the prisoners who were packed like sardines into these freight cars. The chaplain persuaded the German officer in charge to let him go up and down the line of the cars and talk to the men. As he passed by he said, "Boys, this is Christmas Eve and we are in a tough spot. But, if you have your Bibles, get them out and read the story of the birth of Jesus and you will know that He is with us even here. If you can't read because of the darkness, then let's sing."

Immediately there was a medley of response. Some sang revival songs and some sang hymns. Then a rich baritone struck up "Silent Night, Holy Night," and he was joined by others. Carload after carload joined in singing that beautiful Christmas carol. Then something marvelous happened. Other voices, German voices, began to sing the song in the original "Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht." The German voices and American voices blended together in praise of Christ who came to bring all people together in peace.

44. Accepting a Human Messiah

Illustration

Brian Stoffregen

In contrast to the theology of the cross and our suffering/dying king. Robert Capon in Hunting the Divine Fox presents a wonderful picture of our typical American Messiah and it doesn't look much like Jesus on the cross.

Almost nobody resists the temptation to jazz up the humanity of Christ. The true paradigm of the ordinary American view of Jesus is Superman: "Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. It's Superman! Strange visitor from another planet, who came to earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men, and who, disguised as Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper, fights a never-ending battle for truth, justice and the American Way." If that isn't popular christology, I'll eat my hat. Jesus gentle, meek and mild, but with secret, souped-up, more-than-human insides bumbles around for thirty-three years, nearly gets himself done in for good by the Kryptonite Kross, but at the last minute, struggles into the phone booth of the Empty Tomb, changes into his Easter suit and, with a single bound, leaps back up to the planet Heaven.

You think that's funny? Don't laugh. The human race is, was and probably always will be deeply unwilling to accept a human messiah. We don't want to be saved in our humanity; we want to be fished out of it. We crucified Jesus, not because he was God, but because he blasphemed: He claimed to be God and then failed to come up to our standards for assessing the claim. It's not that we weren't looking for the Messiah; it's just that he wasn't what we were looking for. Our kind of Messiah would come down from a cross. He would carry a folding phone booth in his back pocket. He wouldn't do a stupid thing like rising from the dead. He would do a smart thing like never dying." [pp. 90-91; this book has been reprinted, along with two others under the title The Romance of the Word: One Man's Love Affair with Theology]

45. The Word Became Flesh

Illustration

Paul E. Flesner

If John's Gospel were the only one we had, there would be no little town of Bethlehem. There'd be no shepherds out in their fields. There would be no manger and no virgin birth. No north star and no creche. If John is all we had here is all that we would know about Jesus' birth: before his name was Jesus, his name was the Word, and he was with God from the very beginning of creation, bringing things into being, making things happen, shining light into the darkness.

He was God's self, God's soul, God's life force in the world. He was the breath inside all living things. He was the electric spark that charged peoples' hearts. He was the fire inside the sun. He was the space between the stars. He was the axis around which the galaxies spin.

John goes on to say that not everyone got that message. Many were blinded by this light and preferred the darkness they knew to the light which they did not know. The Word sidled up to them and hummed life into their ears, but they cleared their throats and walked away. So God decided to speak in a new way. God decided to speak body language. "And the Word became flesh and lived among us full of grace and truth."

This is John's Christmas story in a nutshell. Like Luke, John is telling us about an encounter with the Holy One. God's Word was translated into a human being. God's self, soul, and life force were concentrated into one mortal life on earth, and as a result, nothing would ever be the same again. Not because everyone listened, because everyone does not, but because the eternal Word of God took human form.

46. A Sight for Certain Eyes

Illustration

Ozzie Smith

The boy Jesus was a powerful and expected sight for certain eyes born of devout and unwavering faith. It has been said that Harriet Tubman was known to wait in train stations without the aid of train schedules or knowing when the train was coming. When asked why she would do that, she simply said because she knew the train was coming. It was like she had this internal GPS. This may sound strange, but what does it mean to wait without a schedule but to be certain that the train is coming? Could it be that Tubman knew that the station was the place to be when waiting for coming trains? Might it have been that Tubman recognized that the tracks had already been laid outside the station for traveling beyond where her stationed eyes could see?

Likewise, Simeon and Anna were stationed in the very place, the temple, where certain eyes were able to see and recognize the boy Jesus for who he was and is the Messiah! We know that not all would or could not see Jesus as the Messiah. Experience had clouded their expectation, but this text calls us to expect to experience and to express what the Lord has shown us in the midst of all else. The world would not recognize him as the Messiah, certainly not a man on a donkey from an off-the-beaten-path like Nazareth. What a word!!! What a sight to see consolation and redemption in a baby that was yet gurgling. How it must have been for Joseph and Mary to see and hear what they heard! The text says that they were amazed!

47. The Meaning of Fame

Illustration

Maxie Dunnam

Have I told you the story of the three executives who were sitting around trying to define the word "fame" what it meant to arrive?

One of them said "fame is being invited to the White House for a visit with the President. That's got to be the ultimate expression of fame you've arrived."

"No, that's not what fame is", the second one said, "fame is being invited to the White House for a visit with the President, and when the hotline rings, he doesn't even get up to answer it. He just lets it ring! When that happens, you have really arrived."

"No," said the third executive. "That's not it. Fame is being invited to the White House for a visit with the President, and when the hotline rings, he does answer it, but he listens for a moment, and then he says, 'Here, this call is for you.'"

Go back to our scripture lesson. People were full of expectation looking for the Messiah and many of them felt that John the Baptist was the Messiah. Let's read verses 15 and 16 again. "As the people were in expectation, and all men questioned in their hearts concerning John, whether perhaps he were the Christ, John answered them all, "I baptize you with water; but he who is mightier than I is coming, the thong of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie; he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire."

Here is one of the most telling pictures of John. He knew who he was. He was not the Messiah he was the forerunner. It's never easy to play that role ,forerunner, or an even lesser role suggested by the expression, "playing second fiddle". You know where that metaphor comes from. It comes from the orchestra. Apart from the conductor, First Violinist is the most important person in the Orchestra. Only one sits in that chair and plays that role. All the rest "play second fiddle".

48. The Arrival of Hope

Illustration

Joel D. Kline

Alan Paton's novel, Cry, the Beloved Country, is the story of a black South African pastor, Stephen Kumalo, who travels from his small village of Ntodsheni to the city of Johannesburg, to find his son Jonathan. Jonathan had gone to the city to find employment, but while there had gotten involved with the wrong crowd, and when Pastor Kumalo finds his son, Jonathan is in jail for killing a white lawyer named Arthur Jarvis. In an intriguing turn of events, we learn that Arthur had been a leading advocate for the rights of black Africans and had just finished writing a book about the need for justice in that hate-torn nation.

In his grief the pastor goes to the father of Arthur Jarvis, to apologize for his son's crime. The elder Jarvis little agreed with his son's passion for working against the evils of apartheid. But in the aftermath of Arthur's death, the father struggles to make sense of the changes in his son's perspective that had set him on such a markedly different course in life. As a result, the father reads and rereads his son's manuscript. And that seems to explain what enabled the elder Jarvis not to berate or reject Pastor Kumalo, but instead to receive him kindly. In the days and weeks that follow, the elder Jarvis continues to embrace a new perspective, eventually promising to erect a new church building for the congregation Pastor Kumalo serves. Further, the elder Jarvis offers to build a dam for the village of Ntodsheni, so that the people might have year-round access to fresh water.

The very rumor of what is to be done sends a shock wave of hope throughout the village. There will now be water for irrigation. The people will be able to raise cattle. And because there will be abundant food and milk for their families, the young people of the village will no longer have to drift off to the cities to find work. There will be laughter and singing and dancing once again. Nothing had yet happened, and yet the village is transformed, as if the changes have already occurred. Writes Alan Paton, "Although nothing has come yet, something is here already."

The Gospel writers portray John the Baptist as one who raised the hopes of the ancient people of Israel, pointing the way to the coming of the Messiah, the One so much greater than John that the Baptist feels unworthy even to untie his sandals. As the Baptist begins his ministry, nothing has yet happened; and yet, in their anticipation of more yet to come, the people begin to respond as if the long-awaited Messiah were already present.

49. The Messiah Is Back!

Illustration

Thomas Long

According to an account in the New York Times, it was just before Christmas several years ago that David Storch, a music teacher, borrowed a copy of the score of Handel's "Messiah" from the Brooklyn Public Library. Through a clerical error, however, the transaction was not recorded. There were several other requests for the score, and the library staff, unaware that it had been checked out, spent many hours searching in vain for it through the stacks. On the day that Storch returned it, placing it on the circulation desk, he was astonished to hear the librarian spontaneously, joyously, and loudly shout, "The 'Messiah' is here! The 'Messiah' is back!" Every head in the library turned toward the voice, but, alas, as the Times reported, "A few minutes later everyone went back to work."

A wry story, but also a parable of the often dashed expectations of those who wait for God. Someone cries, "Peace, peace," but there is no peace. Another says, "Comfort, comfort," but there is little comfort. "Come, thou long-expected Jesus," goes the prayerful hymn, and heads turn in a moment of curious interest, then, seeing nothing, go back to work. And so, weary of waiting on a God who does not come, we lower our horizons, fold our hands in prayer to more tangible gods to give us purpose, and turn to more immediate and reliable resources for hope. We build shiny sanctuaries of glass and steel where we can celebrate "possibility thinking" and the other human potentials, which we hope will save us from our self-doubt, if not our sins. We fill the silos and the skies with ever more potent weapons of destruction, which we hope will save us from each other. And we summon the elixirs of modern medicine to save us from disease, aging, and finally from death. In short, tired of waiting for the one true God, we create our own, molded in our own image.

50. So Much More than Anticipated

Illustration

John A. Stroman

Have you ever looked forward to something and when it happened, it was so much more than you anticipated? Maybe this was your experience at the time of your marriage or the birth of your first child. This was somewhat like the experience of David Livingstone, the explorer and missionary to central Africa in the mid-1800s. In his journal he tells about his discovery of the great falls, which he named the Victoria Falls, and what that experience meant to him. He had heard from the natives that there was something up the river, but he was not sure what it was. He could hear the roar of the falls for miles and he could see the spray five miles away. He said he could never explain the splendor that fell upon his soul when he looked on the falls for the first time. Suddenly, right before his eyes, the Zambezi River was a mile wide; it sloped slightly and then cascaded in a 400-foot plunge in a display of awesome splendor. He said for several minutes the sight literally paralyzed him. He knew that something was ahead but his discovery was far beyond his wildest imagination.

This is exactly what happened to Simeon in the text. He knew the Messiah was coming and he waited and prayed for the day to arrive. He was told by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death until he would see the Lord's Messiah. Every time parents brought their children to the Temple he was filled with anticipation that possibly one of them was the child he was waiting for. Then Mary and Joseph arrived at the Temple and Simeon, now an old man, took the child up into his arms and praised God saying:

Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared for all peoples.

The scene is a moving one: an old man now ready to die holding a six-week-old baby, who is at long last "the salvation for all people."

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