39 At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, 40 where she entered Zechariah's home and greeted Elizabeth. 41 When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. 42 In a loud voice she exclaimed: "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! 43 But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? 44 As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. 45 Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished!"
Two Women
Luke 1:39-45Sermon
by Mark Trotter
by Mark Trotter
Our text for this morning is about two women who come together to tell their stories. They are cousins, distant cousins. Elizabeth, the city cousin, Luke says, lives in the hills of Judea. Her husband, Zechariah, is the priest in the Temple. It must have been a big city to have a temple. Perhaps it was Jerusalem, and if so, then Zechariah would have been one of the priests assigned to the Temple in Jerusalem. Which would mean he was a man of some importance. It says they lived in the hills of Judea. That sounds to me like some upscale neighborhood. So Elizabeth and Zechariah were people of status and wealth and culture, sophisticated people.
Mary was not. Mary was the country cousin from of all places, Nazareth, a town with a bad reputation. In past sermons I have, from time to time, tried to explain what Nazareth was like by saying, "It's like...," and then I would name a town near here and say it was like being from there, only to have someone after church one day tell me they were from that town. So I don't do that anymore.
But I discovered there is a place that all San Diegans agree is a disreputable place, and that's Los Angeles. But that is where I am from. So I just want you to use your imagination and think of the most undistinguished, ignoble place that you possibly can, and that's the way Nazareth was. At least that is the reputation that Nazareth had. You can see that in reading the New Testament itself, because the rhetorical question is asked there, "Can anything good come from Nazareth?"
So Mary comes calling on Elizabeth, her cousin. What brought them together is not that they are family. I doubt that they had ever been together before. They probably didn't know each other at all. What brought them together is a common story. They both had an angel visitation, it's called an "annunciation," and they are both going to have babies.
Mary, the country cousin, uneducated, fifteen or sixteen years old. That's the way it was in those days. Betrothed to a carpenter in her village. A man undoubtedly a lot older than she was. That was the way it was, as well. And now she is pregnant, miraculously. The text says that Mary was greatly troubled by all of this. I would think so! Who could understand? How could she ever explain this to anybody?
Then she remembers, she has an older cousin, an older woman who lives in the city. Her husband, she recalled, is a priest in the Temple. So maybe she could understand. Maybe she could give her some counsel.
"So in those days Mary arose and went off with haste to the hill country, to a city of Judah, and entered the house of Zechariah." As soon as she enters the door, Elizabeth's baby "leaps in her womb." Elizabeth greets her with, "Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb!"
Elizabeth will give birth to John the Baptist. Mary will give birth to Jesus. So even in the womb, John gives deference to Jesus. John will become the one who "prepares the way of the Lord."
But here, Elizabeth, the socially superior, the culturally sophisticated, the economically advantaged, defers to the simple, uneducated, uncultured, poor Mary. Elizabeth listens to Mary's story, and she rejoices. Then she tells her story. And afterwards, I imagine, they wept, then they laughed, and then they danced, amazed that God would reveal himself in such an unpredictable way.
Then Mary sings the Magnificat, which you heard the choir sing. In comes in the sequence of the story right after the New Testament lesson stopped, so it is appropriate that the choir would pick it up, and sing it, which is the way it is supposed to be heard.
My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has regarded the low estate of his handmaiden.
This morning I want us to look at Mary and her "low estate."
Every year there is an advertising campaign in the cities of this country that says, "Put Christ back into Christmas." Unfortunately it is just a gesture against the great tide of advertising that commercializes Christmas. But I'm all for it. I like their slogan. I think we ought to put Christ back into Christmas. In fact, that's what we do here during the Advent season. So if you want to put Christ back into Christmas, then come to church.
But I wonder if you have ever noticed, the story of the Nativity, as Luke tells it, is really a story about Mary. So I have a slogan. I think you ought to put this on your bumpers, "Put Mary back into Christmas," because she is obviously the star. She is surrounded by a supporting cast of actors: Elizabeth, Zechariah, shepherds, angels, Gabriel, the archangel, Simeon and Anna will come in at the last scene, and, of course, there is Joseph, who has a non-speaking role. He shows up in the third act, in the stable, among the oxen and the asses. That's Joseph's role. But the star of this story is Mary. That's obvious. The spotlight is always on Mary.
Luke tells the story of Mary because he wants us to know not only what happened at Christmas, he wants us to know how it happened, because how it happened, is part of the revelation. It happened through a poor, peasant girl, through the least likely person. It happened through a nobody.
I preached a sermon on Mary once a long time ago. The title of that sermon was, "Mary Was A Nobody." I put that title out there on the board, where all those cars are going by on the freeway. I heard about it. I got phone calls, people who were upset, outraged. They said, "Who are you to put Mary down?"
Well their reaction was based on the doctrines about Mary formulated later by the Church; the exalted Queen of Heaven, the one who is pictured in all the paintings, and probably on your Christmas cards, clothed in the robes of royalty and wearing a crown upon her head.
But I was preaching from the New Testament narrative. I wasn't putting Mary down. She's already there. She sings, "My soul doth magnify the Lord, for thou has regarded the low estate of your handmaiden." Mary was part of the great, faceless, mass of people in this world who are numbered in government censuses. That is how they are known, just as numbers in a census.
It is appropriate that the story includes the census of Rome. That is the only time anyone pays attention to the poor of the world is when there is a census. In those days it was for economic purposes, for taxes. In our day, census are used to distribute political power. After that is done, the poor are forgotten, just part of mass.
There is a clock that I heard about. Embedded in the face of the clock is a digital counter that's slowly turning, never stops. It is like the odometer in your car, only it clocks the growth of the population on this planet. There are no names there. No baby being born is celebrated. There is no rejoicing. It's just the tumblers, turning numbers inexorably, counting the billions of people on this planet. Mary was just one of those. That's who Mary was, a nobody.
Emily Dickinson has a poem with this wonderful line. "I'm nobody! Who are you? / Are you Nobody too?"
As far as the world was concerned, that's who Mary was. And the revelation coming to us at Christmas is, God does not treat her that way. God does not treat her as a nobody. God treats her as if she were special.
And it must have shown, because the minute Elizabeth sees her, she says, "Blessed are you among women." She must have seen the radiance that surrounded Mary. Mary knew that what was happening to her was not happening just to her, but through her, it was happening for all the poor and forgotten in this world, the people who were just numbers in a census. All those people are blest as well. That is why she sings:
He scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts, he has put down the mighty from their thrones, and exalted those of low degree; he has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent empty away.
What she is saying is, the world is different now because of Christmas. Mary announces it. Even before Jesus is born the transformation of the world has begun, a new age is here.
In Dr. Zhivago, that wonderful novel, you remember, several generations ago, written by Boris Pasternak, there is a reflection on Christmas. It is a lovely piece. In fact, as I recall, the major part of that novel is set in the season of Christmas.
In that piece he explains what it meant in that ancient world, in that world of tyrannical empires, that this baby was born. You know that in the way he describes Rome, he is also describing Russia at the time of the revolution. He wrote, "With the birth of Christ, the reign of numbers is over, and the age of the individual has begun."
That's what Mary announces. Because of Christ, we now know that everybody is loved by God. Everybody is treated by God as of sacred worth. Mary is just the first of the poor to experience that blessing.
The Old Testament lesson for this morning is not commonly read during Advent. It is there, I am sure, because it announces that the House of David, the king, is to be permanent and established forever. Jesus is of the house and lineage of David, so it is a companion piece to the New Testament lesson, in which Mary and Joseph travel to Bethlehem, to the city of David. So with this wonderful irony with which God controls history, Jesus, the King of kings, is born in the same city where David, the king, was also born.
So the Old Testament lesson this morning is an interesting companion to the story of Jesus' birth. But I wish the Old Testament lesson for this morning had been the one that we read last Sunday. They almost got it right. They came within one week of getting it right. The lesson last week was from Isaiah 61. "The Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the oppressed, and to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." That passage announces the coming of the Jubilee.
The Jubilee is the year in which we are to remember the poor. That law is found in the Book of Leviticus, the 25th chapter. It says that every fifty years there is to be a Jubilee, when all debts are to be forgiven. Land that is being held as collateral for loans to the poor is to be given back. All people held in indentured servitude are to be released. Because the earth is the Lord's, and the fullness thereof. It belongs to God. It doesn't belong to us. God's intention in the creation is that all his children would enjoy the riches that this earth yields. But the way the world is arranged, it is available just to a few. So the Jubilee says that every fifty years land is to be restored to its owners in the name of God. In the Bible the language used to describe that is "justice for the poor."
Isaiah prophesied that someday the Jubilee will be permanent. It won't be just one year in fifty. It will be a time when justice for the poor will be permanent, a time when all people will enjoy the life that God intended for us. A new age, he said, will be inaugurated.
Mary, in her song, the Magnificat, is announcing that age is finally here with the birth of her son. Jesus, himself, when he preaches his first sermon in the synagogue at Nazareth, uses Isaiah 61 as his text. It's his inaugural sermon. He stands up and reads the text, only he changes it a little bit. He says, "The Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor, and to proclaim the acceptable year, the year of Jubilee." Then he sits down, and says, "Today this prophesy is fulfilled in your sight."
Incidentally, organizations, including major churches in the world, and especially the Roman Catholic Church, are saying that the beginning of the new millennium is an appropriate time to declare a Jubilee. Especially in light of the fact that in the world today, only a few have most of the wealth, and the great majority of people are poor. So there are some who are suggesting that it is time that the rich nations forgive the debts of the poor. And the poor nations, at least reduce the indebtedness so that the poor nations will have an opportunity to bring justice to the poor.
I remind you that Mary would have been among them. That's the message that Luke wants to get across to us. He wants us to see that Christmas is not only about Jesus, it also about Mary. And it's about what happened to the billions of people in this world who are just like her.
Wilfrid Sheed is a Catholic writer, and he wrote once about traveling through Sag Harbor on Long Island. He said he saw there what he called "hopelessly homely-looking girls." He said in no way were they attractive. He had an opportunity to overhear their conversation, and concluded that neither were they very bright. He wrote that he had a pagan friend who he was sure, if he had been there, might have said about these girls, "Why do these people continue to procreate and produce such hideous creatures." And he said, "I thought, no Catholic would ever say that. No one can be seen as worthless to us."
I read that, and I thought, if he had been traveling not through Sag Harbor on Long Island, but through Nazareth in Galilee, he would have seen something similar: homely, illiterate girls, who when you heard their conversation, you realized that they spoke in the dialect of the peasant class around the world. You can pick them out. They are ubiquitous. They are everywhere. There are millions and millions of them.
And Mary was one of them. She is not pictured that way in religious art. You won't see that on any Christmas cards this year. She is pictured on Christmas cards according to what the Church said about her later, the doctrines about her exalted status. But you read Luke, you read what it says about her, and it hits us as revelation. Luke did not have to tell the story the way he did. He didn't have to mention that she was from Nazareth, a disreputable place. He didn't have to tell us that she was among the poor. He didn't have to tell us that when Mary and Joseph went to Bethlehem, they were told to sleep with the animals, because that is where the poor always slept.
He didn't have to tell us that. He told us that so that you would not forget this, that Mary sang, "My soul doth magnify the Lord, for he has regarded the low estate of his handmaiden."
ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., Collected Sermons, by Mark Trotter
We read here of the meeting between the mothers of John and Jesus. As Mary greets Elizabeth, John “leaps for joy” inside Elizabeth’s womb (1:41, 44; see also 1:15). Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, blesses Mary and praises God (1:41…
The Baker Bible Handbook by , Baker Publishing Group, 2016
39 At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, 40 where she entered Zechariah's home and greeted Elizabeth. 41 When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. 42 In a loud voice she exclaimed: "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! 43 But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? 44 As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. 45 Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished!"
The text of 1:39–56 can easily be divided into two sections: (1) Elizabeth pronounces a blessing on Mary as the mother of the Lord (1:39–45); (2) Mary breaks forth in praise to God for his mighty works (1:46–56). The blessing of Elizabeth ties the narrative together; now the mothers of the two sons meet, and even in the womb John begins his ministry. In addition, Elizabeth’s words in verse 43 confirm the promise that was made to Mary. Mary is blessed (1:42) not because she is incomparably holy but because she is the mother of the Lord and because she believes that the divine promise will be fulfilled (1:45). So once again Mary becomes a model for the Lukan community (cf. 1:38). The content of Mary’s song is rather surprising, for only in verse 48 does Mary dwell on the personal benefits of being the mother of the Lord. The song stresses the exaltation of the humble, the humiliation of God’s enemies (especially the proud and rich), and the fulfillment of God’s promises to Abraham. Presumably the song celebrates what God will accomplish through the birth of Jesus, the Messiah. The song is typically Jewish (cf. particularly 1 Sam. 2:1–10, which contains numerous parallels). The prophecy, of course, is fulfilled in a way that surprises Mary, since Jesus suffers before he is exalted.
The Baker Illustrated Bible Commentary by Gary M. Burge, Baker Publishing Group, 2016
Big Idea: God has chosen the insignificant Mary for great honor. This is an example of how he overturns human values and conventions.
Understanding the Text
In our first two sections of Luke’s text the angel Gabriel has announced two births to mothers who should not have been expecting a baby (one too old, the other not yet married). Before the births of John and Jesus are narrated, the two families are brought together, and we have in this domestic scene an opportunity to reflect on the significance of these two special people. The unborn John and his mother recognize the superior status of Mary’s son, and Mary speaks with delight and wonder of the incredible honor of being the mother of God’s Son.
The paradoxical values expressed in Mary’s song prepare the reader for the repeated challenges to the status quo that will mark Jesus’s ministry as this Gospel will describe it.
Outline/Structure
Mary’s song in 1:46–55, the “Magnificat,”1is the first of three poetic declarations that are a striking feature of Luke’s birth narratives; the others are the songs of Zechariah (the “Benedictus” [1:68–79]) and of Simeon (the “Nunc Dimittis” [2:29–32]). Their familiar Latin names derive from their use as canticles in church worship since the early Christian centuries. They have been valued as expressions of joy in God’s saving work that can be applied far beyond their original context, even though each is clearly designed to reflect the specific circumstances in which they are uttered in Luke’s narrative.2Their language and structure reflect those of the Old Testament psalms, with their poetic parallelism, so that their Semitic style stands out within Luke’s generally more Hellenistic writing. The Magnificat in particular breathes the atmosphere of traditional Jewish piety and contains no specifically Christian language.
Historical and Cultural Background
Mary’s visit to her relative Elizabeth involved a long walk of some seventy miles from Nazareth to somewhere probably in the Jerusalem area; the traditional site of the home of Zechariah and Elizabeth is Ain Karim, five miles west of Jerusalem. In 2:4 Mary will have to undertake almost the same journey in a much more advanced state of pregnancy.
Mary’s song echoes, both in its opening words and in its general theme, the song of Hannah in 1 Samuel 2:1–10, though Hannah’s song follows rather than precedes the birth of her child, Samuel. That too had been a birth against natural expectation (Hannah was believed to be unable to have children), and the child was recognized from birth as having a special role in God’s saving purpose. Hannah, like Mary, celebrated God’s choice of the despised and downtrodden rather than the world’s natural leaders. But most of Mary’s song does not repeat the actual words of Hannah’s; rather, it is a collage of echoes of psalms and other poetic sections of the Old Testament.3
Interpretive Insights
1:41 the baby leaped in her womb. John is to have an important role in God’s saving purpose, but it will be a subordinate one, and already the unborn John, filled with the Holy Spirit (1:15), recognizes the presence of the Messiah, for whom he will prepare the way.
Luke’s emphasis on the Holy Spirit is well known, and this is especially true of these opening chapters. The Spirit already fills John in the womb (1:15) and has been the means of Mary’s pregnancy (1:35). He now inspires the prophetic utterance of Elizabeth, as he will also those of Zechariah (1:67) and Simeon (2:25, 27). So these words of Elizabeth are not simply an enthusiastic family greeting; they are a prophecy about Mary’s role and status in the drama of salvation, as “the mother of my Lord.”
1:45 Blessed is she who has believed. The customary English rendering “blessed” obscures the fact that two different Greek words are used here and in 1:42. Euloge?, used twice in 1:42, speaks of God’s blessing on Mary and on her unborn child. Makarios (a less directly religious word), used here and echoed by the verb makariz? in 1:48, speaks rather of how other people regard her: they recognize what God has done for her and congratulate her on the blessing that she has received. We will see in 6:20–22 how makarios is used to speak of the good life, to commend and to congratulate those who are in an enviable position. But Mary is to be congratulated not on good fortune, but on her own faith, which has been willing to take God at his word even when what is promised seems incredible.
1:47 God my Savior. This is a familiar Old Testament phrase (e.g., Hab. 3:18). In view of the exaggerated place that has been given to Mary in some Christian traditions, even describing her as “co-redeemer” with her son, it is salutary to notice that in this song she appears only as the grateful recipient of God’s saving work. She is a model of faith (1:45) rather than the object of it, and it is as such that she is to be congratulated for all generations (1:48).
1:48 the humble state of his servant. This is the only part of the song that focuses directly on Mary’s situation. God has chosen a person of no social importance as the means of his saving work. As Paul later put it, God’s “power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9). See Paul’s observations in 1 Corinthians 1:26–29 on the social insignificance and helplessness of those whom God has chosen as his people.
1:50 those who fear him. This phrase, together with “the humble” in 1:52 and “the hungry” in 1:53, recalls the frequent depiction in the psalms of the God-fearing “meek” or “poor,” who are contrasted with the powerful and arrogant. The psalms depict them as downtrodden and exploited by the ungodly, who seem to have all the odds on their side, but as putting their trust in God to vindicate them over their callous oppressors. God’s “bias toward the poor” and his saving action on their behalf mean that the world’s power structures are overturned, so that “the meek shall inherit the earth” (Ps. 37:11 KJV). It is this subversive ideology that will underlie Jesus’s own ministry, which will, as Luke notes, be “good news to the poor” (4:18).
1:51–53 brought down rulers . . . lifted up the humble. The direct reversal of earthly status and privilege in 1:51–53 is the most striking echo in the Magnificat of Hannah’s song (1 Sam. 2:4–8). The past tenses indicate that this is no new pattern, but that God has always worked like this, even though in this song the focus is on what is still to come through the ministry of the as yet unborn Messiah. It is not so much that God’s people will be given actual political power and material prosperity, but rather that under God’s new regime there will be a new scale of values, and the old social divisions will cease to matter. The first will be last, and the last first.
1:54 He has helped his servant Israel. The spirituality of the Magnificat and of the Benedictus remains firmly within the tradition of Old Testament religion. It is only with the Nunc Dimittis that Luke’s canticles will begin explicitly to look beyond the Messiah’s primary role to envisage also “revelation to the Gentiles.” Subsequent Christian history, with its increasingly universal scope, has made it inevitable that we think today of Jesus as primarily the Savior of the whole world, but these early chapters of Luke remind us that while he may be much more than the redeemer of Israel, he is never less. His coming is the fulfillment of God’s promises to his chosen people throughout the Old Testament, beginning with Abraham.
1:56 about three months. Since Mary’s conception was announced when Elizabeth was already in her sixth month of pregnancy (1:26, 36), Mary’s stay with her relative lasts until close to the time when John is due to be born; if she stayed for the birth, Luke does not tell us so.
Theological Insights
Mary’s song reveals two complementary aspects of the character of God well known from the Old Testament. He is the mighty warrior who overthrows those who oppose him, but he is also the God of the covenant whose love and faithfulness ensure the ultimate blessing of his chosen people.
So the theme of God’s fulfillment of his Old Testament promises remains central to this passage. Mary’s joyful exultation celebrates the entire scope of his saving work. But it is focused on his choice of an obscure and socially insignificant girl to be his servant and so to be advanced to the highest honor. This is how God works, defying human conventions of honor and importance. He is the God of the underdog. Luke will go on to narrate how the ministry of Mary’s son will embody the radical values of the Magnificat.
Teaching the Text
It is possible to treat the Magnificat in isolation from its context as both a memorable celebration of the character of the God of Israel and a challenge to the world’s values. As such, it has much to teach us in a society that unthinkingly assumes that might is right, and whose celebrity culture promotes the prosperous and successful as those to be envied and emulated.
But the Magnificat comes to us as the inspired utterance of a particular person in a unique situation, and its message is best understood when Mary’s own situation is taken into account. The teacher or preacher may helpfully encourage listeners to place themselves in Mary’s shoes and to imagine her reaction to Elizabeth’s striking greeting. The general truths of the Magnificat gain extra force when they are read as the amazed response of an insignificant girl whom God has chosen for an unimaginably important role in his plan of salvation.4
When Mary visits Elizabeth, even though both women have cause to praise God for what he has done for them, this is not a scene of mutual congratulation. All the focus is on Mary’s pregnancy and on the future ministry of her child. It is this that both Elizabeth and her unborn baby recognize, and it is this that Mary sings about.
Mary’s words challenge the modern reader to think how far our social and political life (and even our church life) can militate against God’s scale of values. Recent movements such as liberation theology have reminded us of God’s “bias toward the poor” and of the question marks that the biblical tradition places against privilege and power. The Magnificat assures us that this is not solely an Old Testament theme, and Luke’s account of Jesus’s ministry will constantly bring it back to our attention.
Many Protestants, reacting against the excessive devotion to Mary in some church circles, have tended to undervalue her importance. This passage provides a valuable opportunity to “rehabilitate” her both as a central figure in God’s redemptive purpose and as a model for Christian faith, obedience, and vision. She is to be congratulated.
Illustrating the Text
Being undeservedly set apart for special service brings overwhelming awe and gratitude.
Television: Reference any current reality television series that is based on the idea of a talent search or progressive elimination (think American Idol, Miss America, etc.). Go as in-depth as you feel is appropriate, and use clips if you want. Point out how everyone likes to root for a regular person who begins as just a face in the crowd and who ends up set apart as one in a million. Focus on the moment in which the winner’s name is announced and the confetti falls and the tears flow. Talk about the emotions the person feels at that moment: overwhelmed, overjoyed, honored, appreciated, grateful, and even deeply humbled. Explain that this phenomenon of being called out and set apart is what it means to be part of the church (“the called ones”), to be made holy (“set apart for special purposes”), and to be called a saint (“holy one”). Point out that, while contests are often about superficial qualities or skills that mark a person as comparatively unique, the specialness a saint feels is simply based on God’s undeserved and gracious call.
Quote: John Lennon is quoted as saying, “Jesus was alright, but his disciples were thick and ordinary. It’s them twisting it that ruins it for me.” Point out that Mr. Lennon is fundamentally misunderstanding the fact that God intentionally chooses thick, ordinary disciples like Zechariah, Mary, Elizabeth, Peter, and all of us to reveal his amazing grace and power. Far from twisting the intent of Jesus’s gospel, this undeserved sanctifying and deploying of regular, unremarkable people into amazing ministry proves the power of God and ensures a grateful, humble people of God.
God is the rescuer of the poor and afflicted, and responds generously to those who acknowledge their powerlessness.
Bible: This concept can be well illustrated with a brief look into a number of Scriptures, such as the Beatitudes (Matt. 5); Psalm 34:18; or the widow’s oil (2 Kings 4).
Object Lesson: Use three clear glasses. The first should be filled with red wine or grape juice. The second should be empty. The third should be empty and broken or punctured so that it will leak. Tell your listeners that the three glasses represent three hearts. The first (wine/juice) is already filled to overflowing with rich things. The second is empty, but still rigid and proud. The last is both empty and broken by the trials and sorrows of this life. Show your listeners a bottle of olive oil and say it represents gifts and power as conveyed by the Holy Spirit. (1) Pour a little olive oil into the wine-filled glass, comment on how little room there is for God’s gifts, and point out how they won’t mingle with the rich things already there. The gift of God becomes a superficial layer that never penetrates to the depths of that heart. (2) Pour oil into the empty glass and point out that there is room to receive the oil but that heart is a dead-end for those blessings. The empty but proud heart is willing to receive and hoard, but the blessings will spoil over time. (3) Pour oil into the empty and broken glass (make sure to have something underneath to catch the leaks). Explain that an empty, broken heart pleases God since it must receive more of him daily, and always leaks his blessings out to others. Just as Mary proclaims, God delights to fill the poor, broken, and hungry with good things as a way of enriching the world and revealing his glory.
Mary is a role model and example who is worthy of our respect and honor.
Church History: Take some time to talk about your tradition’s take on Mary. If you come from a tradition that venerates her, explain what that does and does not mean, and show how the honor paid her relates to her humility and modesty in the face of God’s call. If you come from a tradition that shies away from special doctrines about her, take a moment to acknowledge the ways in which it is appropriate to respect and honor her as a sister in faith and as a role model for ordinary people who would be used by God.
Teaching the Text by R.T. France, Baker Publishing Group, 2016
Direct Matches
The mother of John the Baptist. She was a descendant of Aaron and the wife of Zechariah (Luke 1:5). She and her husband are described in Luke 1 as righteous but barren in their old age. When Zechariah had the opportunity to serve in the temple and burn incense, an angel prophesied that he and Elizabeth would have a son, and they would name him “John.” Elizabeth was the relative of Mary the mother of Jesus (Luke 1:36), but the Bible does not specify how they were related. Mary visited Elizabeth when both were pregnant, and Elizabeth was filled with the Spirit when she heard Mary’s voice. She called Mary “the mother of my Lord” (Luke 1:43).
Literally, fruit is the seed-bearing part of a plant. It constitutes an important part of the diet in the ancient Near East. Common fruits are olives, grapes, and figs, though many other varieties of fruit are also available, including apples, apricots, peaches, pomegranates, dates, and melons. Fruit trees play a prominent role as a food source in God’s creation and preparation of the garden of Eden (Gen. 1 3). The law prohibits the Israelites from cutting down their enemy’s fruit trees (Deut. 20:19). The abundance of fruit trees characterizes the land that God has prepared for Israel (Deut. 8:8; Neh. 9:25) as well as the final restoration (Ezek. 47:12; Joel 2:22; Rev. 22:2).
One aspect of fruit is that it grows from a plant. This use of the term is often extended to represent what emerges from something else. Thus, fruit may represent offspring, whether human or animal (Deut. 7:13; 28:4), one’s actions (Matt. 7:16–20), the result of one’s actions or choices (Prov. 1:31; 10:16; Jer. 17:10), or words coming from one’s mouth (Prov. 12:14; Heb. 13:15). In the NT especially, producing much fruit symbolizes performing deeds that are pleasing to God (Matt. 3:8; 13:23; Mark 4:20; John 15:16; Rom. 7:4; Col. 1:10). Those who live by the Spirit produce the fruit of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22–23). The apostle Paul speaks of the first converts in a particular region as being firstfruits, probably referring to their conversion as the result of the gospel being preached in the area (Rom. 16:5; 2 Thess. 2:13).
The various Hebrew and Greek words that express the idea of fulfillment occur hundreds of times in the Bible, and the concept often is present even when the specific word is not. At the basic level, fulfillment indicates a relationship between two (or more) things in which the second is said to “fill up” the significance of the first. Frequently this takes the form of a specific promise that is said to be fulfilled when the person, object, or event referred to comes to pass. There are countless examples of this type of fulfillment, some of which even quote the specific promise that is being fulfilled. The seventy years of Babylonian captivity prophesied by Jeremiah (Jer. 29:10) are said to be fulfilled when Cyrus permits the Jews to return to the land (Ezra 1:1 4). Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem (Matt. 2:1–6) fulfills the promise of a ruler who will shepherd Israel (Mic. 5:2).
But the concept of fulfillment goes beyond specific promises that are then said to be fulfilled in a particular person, object, or event. In the broadest sense of the term, one can say that the NT fulfills what the OT promises. After his resurrection, Jesus reminds his disciples, “Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms” (Luke 24:44). He then provides a summary of the entire OT message: “The Messiah will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and repentance for the forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem” (Luke 24:46–47).
Holiness is an attribute of God and of all that is fit for association with him. God alone is intrinsically holy (Rev. 15:4). God the Father is holy (John 17:11), as is the Son (Acts 3:14), while “Holy” is the characteristic designation of God’s Spirit (Ps. 51:11; Matt. 1:18). God’s name is holy (Luke 1:49), as are his arm (Ps. 98:1), ways (Ps. 77:13), and words (Ps. 105:42).
With reference to God himself, holiness may indicate something like his uniqueness, and it is associated with attributes such as his glory (Isa. 6:3), righteousness (Isa. 5:16), and jealousy—that is, his proper concern for his reputation (Josh. 24:19).
God’s dwelling place is in heaven (Ps. 20:6), and “holy” functions in some contexts as a virtual equivalent for heavenly (11:4). God’s throne is holy (47:8), and the angels who surround it are “holy ones” (89:5; cf. Mark 8:38).
A corollary of God’s holiness is that he must be treated as holy (Lev. 22:32)—that is, honored (Lev. 10:3), worshiped (Ps. 96:9), and feared (Isa. 8:13).
While “holy” is sometimes said to mean “set apart,” this does not appear to be its core meaning, though it is an associated notion (Lev. 20:26; Heb. 7:26). Holiness, as applied to people and things, is a relational concept. They are (explicitly or implicitly) holy “to the Lord” (Exod. 28:36), never “from” something.
The symbolic representation of God’s heavenly palace, the tabernacle (Exod. 40:9), and later the temple (1 Chron. 29:3), and everything associated with them, are holy and the means whereby God’s people in the OT may symbolically be brought near to God. For God to share his presence with anything or anyone else, these too must be holy (Lev. 11:44 45; Heb. 12:14).
The OT system of worship involved the distinction between unclean and clean, and between common and holy, and the means of effecting a transition to a state of cleanness or holiness (Lev. 10:10). People, places, and items may be made holy by a process of consecration or sanctification, whether simply by God’s purifying presence (Exod. 3:5) or by ritual acts (Exod. 19:10; 29:36).
God’s faithful people are described as holy (Exod. 19:6; 1 Pet. 2:9). In the OT, this is true of the whole people of God at one level, and of particular individuals at another. Thus, kings (Ps. 16:10), prophets (2 Kings 4:9), and in particular priests (Lev. 21:7) are declared to be holy. While the OT witnesses to some tension between the collective holiness of Israel and the particular holiness of its designated leaders (Num. 16:3), the latter were intended to act as models and facilitators of Israel’s holiness.
For Christians, God is the creator of the cosmos and the redeemer of humanity. He has revealed himself in historical acts—namely, in creation, in the history of Israel, and especially in the person and work of Jesus Christ. There is only one God (Deut. 6:4); “there is no other” (Isa. 45:5). Because “God is spirit” (John 4:24), he must reveal himself through various images and metaphors.
The OT refers to God by many names. One of the general terms used for God, ’el (which probably means “ultimate supremacy”), often appears in a compound form with a qualifying word, as in ’el ’elyon (“God Most High”), ’el shadday (“God Almighty”), and ’el ro’i (“the God who sees me” or “God of my seeing”). These descriptive names reveal important attributes of God and usually were derived from the personal experiences of the people of God in real-life settings; thus, they do not describe an abstract concept of God.
The most prominent personal name of God is yahweh (YHWH), which is translated as “the Lord” in most English Bibles. At the burning bush in the wilderness of Horeb, God first revealed to Moses his personal name in sentence form: “I am who I am” (Exod. 3:13 15). Though debated, the divine name “YHWH” seems to originate from an abbreviated form of this sentence. Yahweh, who was with Moses and his people at the time of exodus, is the God who was with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. According to Jesus’ testimony, “the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob” is identified as the God “of the living” (Matt. 22:32). Hence, the name “Yahweh” is closely tied to God’s self-revelation as the God of presence and life.
Many of God’s attributes are summarized in Exod. 34:6–7: “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation.”
The Christian God of the Bible is the triune God. God is one but exists in three persons: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (Matt. 28:19). The Son is one with the Father (John 10:30); the Holy Spirit is one with God (2 Sam. 23:2–3). All three share the same divine nature; they are all-knowing, holy, glorious, and called “Lord” and “God” (Matt. 11:25; John 1:1; 20:28; Acts 3:22; 5:3–4; 10:36; 1 Cor. 8:6; 2 Cor. 3:17–18; 2 Pet. 1:1). All three share in the same work of creation (Gen. 1:1–3), salvation (1 Pet. 1:2), indwelling (John 14:23), and directing the church’s mission (Matt. 28:18–20; Acts 16:6–10; 14:27; 13:2–4).
The fourth son of Jacob (Gen. 35:23). The meaning of his name is debated, but his mother, Leah, links it to “praise” (29:35). He persuaded his brothers to sell Joseph instead of killing him (37:26 27). He also guaranteed the safety of Benjamin when the brothers returned to Egypt to purchase food (43:1–10). In spite of his despicable behavior with his daughter-in-law Tamar (Gen. 38), his father’s blessing included the promise of kingship (49:10).
(1) The most important Mary of the NT is the mother of Jesus, who becomes pregnant through the Holy Spirit while still a virgin. In contrast with Matthew’s birth narrative, where the emphasis falls on Joseph, Luke’s focuses on Mary. Luke’s Gospel introduces Mary as the one to whom God sends the angel Gabriel (1:26 27). Gabriel announces that Mary will be the mother of the Messiah from David’s line, who will reign over the house of Jacob and have a unique father-son relationship with God. Mary responds in humble obedience as “the Lord’s servant” (1:29–38). When she visits her relative Elizabeth, Mary breaks forth in the Magnificat, a song praising God for caring for the humble, humbling the mighty, and remembering his covenant with Abraham (1:46–55).
After the birth of Jesus and the visit from the shepherds, Mary “treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart” (2:19). An old man, Simeon, announces that although Jesus will be a light of revelation for the Gentiles and Israel’s glory, Mary will be deeply grieved, and her soul will be pierced by a sword (2:35). This is the first hint in Luke’s Gospel that Mary’s child, the Messiah, will suffer. In the only episode from Jesus’ childhood in the Gospel, Mary scolds her son for remaining in the temple while his family traveled back to Galilee (2:48). In Luke’s Gospel, Mary is a humble and obedient woman who reflects deeply about her experiences surrounding the birth of Jesus and cares greatly for him as well. Beyond the birth narratives, Mary does not figure as a prominent character in the Gospels. In John’s Gospel, Jesus speaks sternly to his mother when she wants him to perform a miracle before his “hour has . . . come” (2:4); however, at the crucifixion, Mary is present, and Jesus places her into the care of the Beloved Disciple (19:25–27). Later traditions about Mary’s immaculate conception, perpetual virginity, sinlessness, and roles as co-mediator of salvation and answerer of prayer are not taught in the Bible.
(2) Another Mary mentioned in the Gospels is the sister of Martha, who is praised by Jesus for not busying herself with domestic duties as Martha does, but rather sits at the feet of Jesus, “listening to what he said” (Luke 10:39–40). This same Mary is mentioned on another occasion as the one “who poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair” (John 11:1–2; cf. 12:1–8). The Synoptic Gospels record a similar event in which a woman, left unnamed, anoints either the feet of Jesus (Luke 7:36–50) or his head (Matt. 26:6–13; Mark 14:3–9). With the exception of Luke, it seems as though John, Matthew, and Mark are recording the same event. In each of these three, Jesus associates the anointing with the preparation of his body for burial.
(3) Mary Magdalene makes a brief appearance during the ministry of Jesus, and Luke describes her as one who had been cured of seven demons (Luke 8:2). It is quite unlikely that she is the “sinful” woman of the preceding narrative (7:37–50), an association that has given rise to the erroneous belief that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute. She is the first to witness the empty tomb (John 20:1). Likewise, she is the first to see the resurrected Lord and is commanded to go and tell the disciples about his resurrection (John 20:11–18; cf. Matt. 28:1; Mark 16:1–6; Luke 24:1–10). She is even present for the crucifixion (Matt. 27:56) and the burial of Jesus’ body (Matt. 27:61).
(4) Mary the mother of James and Joses (Matt. 27:56; Mark 15:40) is one of two other Marys who, like Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Jesus, appear at the crucifixion. She may be the same person as #5.
(5) Mary the wife of Clopas (John 19:25) is the second of the two other Marys who, like Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Jesus, appear at the crucifixion. She may be the same person as #4.
In the world of the Bible, a person was viewed as a unity of being with the pervading breath and thus imprint of the loving and holy God. The divine-human relationship consequently is portrayed in the Bible as predominantly spiritual in nature. God is spirit, and humankind may communicate with him in the spiritual realm. The ancients believed in an invisible world of spirits that held most, if not all, reasons for natural events and human actions in the visible world.
The OT writers used the common Hebrew word ruakh (“wind” or “breath”) to describe force and even life from the God of the universe. In its most revealing first instance, God’s ruakh hovered above the waters of the uncreated world (Gen. 1:2). In the next chapter of Genesis a companion word, neshamah (“breath”), is used as God breathed into Adam’s nostrils “the breath of life” (2:7). God thus breathed his own image into the first human being. Humankind’s moral obligations in the remainder of the Bible rest on this breathing act of God.
The OT authors often employ ruakh simply to denote air in motion or breath from a person’s mouth. However, special instances of the use of ruakh include references to the very life of a person (Gen. 7:22; Ps. 104:29), an attitude or emotion (Gen. 41:8; Num. 14:24; Ps. 77:3), the negative traits of pride or temper (Ps. 76:12), a generally good disposition (Prov. 11:13; 18:14), the seat of conversion (Ezek. 18:31; 36:26), and determination given by God (2 Chron. 36:22; Hag. 1:14).
The NT authors used the Greek term pneuma to convey the concept of spirit. In the world of the NT, the human spirit was understood as the divine part of human reality as distinct from the material realm. The spirit appears conscious and capable of rejoicing (Luke 1:47). Jesus was described by Luke as growing and becoming “strong in spirit” (1:80). In “spirit” Jesus “knew” what certain teachers of the law were thinking in their hearts (Mark 2:8). Likewise, Jesus “was deeply moved in spirit and troubled” at the sickness of a loved one (John 11:33). At the end of his life, Jesus gave up his spirit (John 19:30).
According to Jesus, the spirit is the place of God’s new covenant work of conversion and worship (John 3:5; 4:24). He declared the human spirit’s dependence on God and ascribed great virtue to those people who were “poor in spirit” (Matt. 5:3).
Human beings who were possessed by an evil spirit were devalued in Mediterranean society. In various places in the Synoptic Gospels and the book of Acts, either Jesus or the disciples were involved in exorcisms of such spirits (Matt. 8:28 33; Mark 1:21–28; 7:24–30; 9:14–29; 5:1–20; 9:17–29; Luke 8:26–33; 9:37–42; Acts 5:16).
The apostle Paul pointed to the spirit as the seat of conversion (Rom. 7:6; 1 Cor. 5:5). He described believers as facing a struggle between flesh and spirit in regard to living a sanctified life (Rom. 8:2–17; Gal. 5:16–17). A contradiction seems apparent in Pauline thinking as he appears to embrace Greek dualistic understanding of body (flesh) and spirit while likewise commanding that “spirit, soul and body be kept blameless” (1 Thess. 5:23). However, the Christian struggle between flesh and Spirit (the Holy Spirit) centers around the believer’s body being dead because of sin but the spirit being alive because of the crucified and resurrected Christ (Rom. 8:10). Believers therefore are encouraged to lead a holistic life, lived in the Spirit.
(1) A king of Israel, the son of Jeroboam II (2 Kings 14:29). His reign was cut short at six months due to his assassination by Shallum (15:8 12). (2) See Zechariah, Book of.
Direct Matches
The mother of John the Baptist. She was a descendant of Aaron and the wife of Zechariah (Luke 1:5). She and her husband are described in Luke 1 as righteous but barren in their old age. When Zechariah had the opportunity to serve in the temple and burn incense, an angel prophesied that he and Elizabeth would have a son, and they would name him “John.” Elizabeth was the relative of Mary the mother of Jesus (Luke 1:36), but the Bible does not specify how they were related. Mary visited Elizabeth when both were pregnant, and Elizabeth was filled with the Spirit when she heard Mary’s voice. She called Mary “the mother of my Lord” (Luke 1:43).
Old Testament
The Hebrew word for “Lord,” yhwh (usually pronounced “Yahweh”), occurs more than 6,800 times in the OT and is in every book except Ecclesiastes and Esther. “Yahweh” is God’s personal name and is revealed as such in Exod. 3:13–14. God tells Moses to declare to the Israelites in Egypt, “I am has sent me to you” (3:14). The Hebrew behind “I am” connotes active being; the Lord is the one who is there for his people and, in the book of Exodus, does so through miraculous events (14:13–14). This demonstrates the close association between one’s name and one’s character in the ancient world. Yahweh is one who is with his people (Exod. 3:12; 6:2, 4; Isa. 26:4). Although the divine name is used before the exodus (Gen. 12:1; 15:1), it is not until the time of Moses that God reveals its redemptive significance. Nonetheless, the divine name is used in Genesis in contexts where the immanence of God is evident. In Gen. 3:8 “the Lord God . . . was walking in the garden in the cool of the day.” Further, the Lord makes a covenant with Abraham (Gen. 12; 15; 17), and the Lord will remain faithful to his covenants for a thousand generations (Deut. 7:9). Later in Israel’s history, Micah, in the face of those who worship other gods, reassures the people of Israel that Yahweh is distinct from all others, and that they will walk in his name because he will one day act to effect justice for all (Mic. 4:3–5).
The divine name also occurs as a form of address in various prayers throughout the OT (Gen. 15:2, 8; Exod. 5:22; 2 Sam. 7:18; 2 Kings 6:17), most notably in the psalms, where it occurs over two hundred times. In the psalms an abbreviated form of the name is often seen in an exclamation of praise, hallelu yah, “praise Yah[weh]” (e.g., Pss. 149:1; 150:1).
It is interesting to note the origin of the pronunciation of yhwh as “Jehovah.” To avoid breaking the third commandment, against misusing the name of God, pious Jews did not pronounce the divine name yhwh, substituting the word ’adonay (“my master”) in its place. In medieval times Jewish scholars added vowels to the consonantal text of the Hebrew Bible to aid in correct pronunciation. For yhwh, they used the vowels of ’adonay, which, when pronounced, creates a name unknown to the biblical authors, “Jehovah.”
In the postexilic period the appellation “Yahweh” occurs far less frequently, being replaced by adonay (Hebrew) or kyrios (Greek). The latter is used for Yahweh over six thousand times in the LXX. In Hellenistic literature kyrios is used to describe various gods and goddesses. The Roman emperors were also called kyrios, often with implications of deity. Some argue that the early Christians employed the title polemically to refer to Christ, the true kyrios. A clear example is found in Phil. 2:11, where it is said that every tongue will confess that “Jesus Christ is Lord” (cf. 1 Cor. 8:5–8). Kyrios was also used nonreligiously to refer to a “master” of a slave and as a term of respect to address someone of superior status (“sir”). Peter addresses Jesus as “lord” when he washes Peter’s feet (John 13:6).
New Testament
In the NT, the majority of occurrences of “Lord” (kyrios) appear in Luke-Acts and the writings of Paul, perhaps due to the predominantly Hellenistic audiences of these texts, who would know well its Greco-Roman connotations. As for Paul, the use of “Lord” by Luke may point to the deity of Jesus. In the Lukan birth narrative, Elizabeth wonders why “the mother of my Lord should come to me?” (Luke 1:43; cf. 7:19; 10:1). In Acts 1:21 the name “Jesus” is preceded by the definite form of “Lord,” reflecting an oft-repeated confessional title in Acts and Paul (Acts 15:11; 20:35; 2 Cor. 1:2). According to some, if Matthew intends a divine connotation by his use of the term “Lord,” it is more oblique. For instance, in Matt. 4:7 Jesus quotes Deut. 6:16, where “the Lord” is Yahweh and not Jesus (cf. Matt. 9:38). There are occasions in Mark where “lord,” although appearing to function in a nonreligious sense, does seem to point to Yahweh. In Mark 2:28 Jesus claims that “the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath” (NRSV). Since the Sabbath belongs to Yahweh and falls under his sovereign authority (Exod. 20:8–11), it is quite probable that Mark’s readers would now ascribe that dominion to the Son of Man. This is not unlike his authority to forgive sins (Mark 2:10), which, as the scribes rightfully point out, is something that only Yahweh can do. In light of these usages, one cannot help but think that the use of the term in Mark 11:3, at the triumphal entry, also carries divine significance. In John, there are examples of both the nonreligious use of “lord,” as a reverent form of address (5:7; 9:36), and the religious, divine sense, particularly after the resurrection (20:28; 21:7).
It is quite likely that Jewish Christians, even before Paul, regarded Jesus as one who shares in Yahweh’s divinity. In his letter to the Corinthians, a Greek-speaking congregation, Paul uses the expression marana tha (1 Cor. 16:22), a Greek transliteration of an Aramaic phrase that means “Our Lord, come!” This term likely was a part of an early Jewish Christian liturgy. Further, there are places where Paul refers to Jesus simply as “the Lord,” suggesting a common understanding of the appellation among the early Christians (Rom. 14:6; 1 Cor. 3:5). In addition to Phil. 2:11, Paul expresses the divinity of Jesus by alluding to Deut. 6:4, the Shema, in 1 Cor. 8:6: “Yet 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.” In the book of Revelation divine status is ascribed to Jesus. While in the vision of God in Rev. 4 the title is used of God (4:8, 11), at the conclusion of the book appears the invocation “Come, Lord Jesus” (22:20; cf. 22:21).
For Paul, a particularly important component of the lordship of Jesus is his resurrection, through which he becomes “the Lord of both the dead and the living” (Rom. 14:9; cf. 1:4), and his return marks the “day of the Lord,” which in the OT was the day of Yahweh (1 Thess. 5:2; cf. 5:23). Exactly how Jewish Christians could attribute such a status to Jesus and yet maintain a strict monotheism remains a matter of considerable debate. Is Christ included in the identity of the Godhead, or is he an intermediary figure (of which Second Temple Judaism had many), possessing a quasi-divine status? If Jesus is an intermediary figure, then his authority to do that which only Yahweh can (such as forgiving sins and fulfilling roles originally referring to God) suggests a very close identification between Yahweh and Jesus himself. See also Names of God; YHWH.
Although essentially characterized by bearing offspring, a mother is associated with much more in the Bible. Especially prominent are the characteristic ways in which a mother relates to her children: she tends to their needs (1 Thess. 2:7), looks after their welfare (1 Kings 3:16–27), comforts them (Ps. 131:2), and instructs them (Prov. 1:8; 31:1).
Motherhood is held in high regard. Bearing a child is an occasion for rejoicing (Gen. 4:1; Ps. 113:9). A virtuous and industrious mother is praised by her children and husband alike (Prov. 31:28). The Bible describes a mother both crowning a king (Song 3:11) and sitting beside his throne (1 Kings 2:19). The death of a mother brings extreme sorrow (Gen. 24:67; Ps. 35:14). Furthermore, God’s promises are often associated with the birth of a child (e.g., Gen. 3:15; 12:2–3; Judg. 13:3; Isa. 7:14). Mary is blessed among women as the mother of Jesus Christ (Luke 1:42–45). Finally, the Bible protects the dignity of a mother as it does that of the father. The law requires honor and reverence for both father and mother (Exod. 20:12; Lev. 19:3; Deut. 5:16) and condemns to death those who strike or curse either parent (Exod. 21:15, 17; Lev. 20:9).
There is also great concern that adult children look after the welfare of their parents as a means of honoring them. David makes provisions for his parents as he flees from Saul (1 Sam. 22:3–4). Jesus condemns the Pharisees and the scribes for taking the resources due their parents and offering them as a gift to God instead (Matt. 15:4–6). Even Jesus’ final act upon the cross is to ensure the welfare of his mother by defining her relationship with the Beloved Disciple as mother and son (John 19:26–27). On the other hand, Jesus makes clear that concern for one’s family is subordinate to discipleship to him (Matt. 10:37; Mark 3:35; Luke 14:26).
The word “mother” also carries symbolic or metaphorical senses. Sometimes the “mother” is a fitting example of other things or persons like it, such as Babylon the Great as the mother of prostitutes and earthly abominations (Rev. 17:5). In the extended analogy between Hosea’s marriage and God’s relationship to Israel, the nation is called a “mother,” and its inhabitants are her “children” (Hos. 2:4; 4:5; cf. Isa. 50:1; Jer. 50:12). The image of a mother may also refer to a large city (2 Sam. 20:19; Gal. 4:26).
Secondary Matches
The following suggestions occured because Luke 1:39-45 is mentioned in the definition.
A Jewish prophet at the time of Jesus, he was the son of priestly parents (Zechariah and Elizabeth), executed by Herod Antipas, and identified as “John” (a common Jewish name), often with the title “the Baptist” or “the Baptizer,” the latter possibly being the older title.
Our primary sources on John the Baptist are the canonical Gospels, Josephus (Ant. 18.116–19), and Acts. Both Jewish and Christian sources note John’s message of the kingdom, call to baptism, and popularity. Josephus and the Gospels can speak of him without introduction. In the Gospels, only Jesus is a more prominent character. It is possible that the typical peasant was more familiar with John than with Jesus, at least until after Pentecost.
The Gospels, particularly Luke, parallel the stories of John and Jesus. Both had an annunciation, a miraculous birth accompanied by praise, and a martyr’s death. Both gathered disciples, announced the kingdom, denounced the Jewish leadership, and practiced baptism. It is easy to see how some on the periphery confused the characters (Mark 8:28).
Ministry
Dressed in a prophet’s garment of camel’s hair (Matt. 3:4; cf. 2 Kings 1:8; Zech. 13:4), the Baptist is noted for emerging from the wilderness and preaching near the Jordan. He called all listeners to repent to prepare Israel for the coming covenant of the Spirit. He and his message were well known, disconcerting Jerusalem’s powerful elite (Mark 11:32) and enthralling the masses (Matt. 3:5–6).
John the Baptist unwaveringly maintained that he was sent to introduce the Son (or Chosen One) of God, who would baptize with the Holy Spirit (John 1:33–34; cf. Matt. 3:11–12 pars.). This one was not named, but the Baptist was told how he would know him: “The man on whom you see the Spirit come down and remain is the one” (John 1:33). Thus, the Baptist could claim, “I myself did not know him” (John 1:31), more likely meaning that the Baptist did not know Jesus was the one until the Spirit descended on him (1:32). It is less likely that John meant that he had not met his cousin previously (Luke 1:39–45). Jesus accepts (and validates) the Baptist’s proclamation both at the beginning of his ministry (Mark 1:9) and again later (Luke 16:16; John 5:35; 10:41).
After his imprisonment, the Baptist seems less certain of his earlier identification of Jesus as the coming one (Matt. 11:2–3). It should also be noted that John had not disbanded his disciples. After his death, some continued to preach his baptism of repentance as far away as in Ephesus (Acts 18:24–26; 19:1–7). Similarly, Jesus’ last description of the Baptist is ambiguous. It is guarded but still complimentary (John 5:32–36; 10:41) and even lofty: “Among those born of women there has not arisen anyone greater than John the Baptist”; however, Jesus’ next statement could be interpreted to mean that the Baptist was not yet part of the coming kingdom: “Yet whoever is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he” (Matt. 11:11). Like everyone else, John was confused by Jesus’ preaching ministry. Jesus was not acting like the Messiah they were expecting (Luke 7:18–20). The Gospels offer no final verdict on the Baptist.
Message
Like Isaiah, the Baptist’s message of restoration of the kingdom meant comfort and hope for those preparing for its arrival (Isa. 40; Mark 1:2–6) and judgment for those unprepared (Isa. 41; Matt. 3:7–10; Luke 3:7–9). The return of the kingdom was by a new covenant, marked by the Spirit (Mark 1:2–8). Cleansing with water is connected to replacing the old covenant (etched in stone) with the new (imbedded in hearts with the Spirit) by the prophets (Ezek. 36:24–28; Jer. 31), by the Baptist (John 1:31–33), by Jesus (John 3:5), and by early Christians (2 Cor. 3; Heb. 9–10). Preparing (Matt. 3:3) meant repenting and living in piety and justice as a member of the kingdom (Luke 3:10–14). This commitment of renewed faithfulness was marked by one’s own (ethical) cleansing, symbolized in baptism. While ritual lustrations were somewhat common for initiation or membership in a group, John the Baptist called all who would devote themselves to God to repent, confess their sins, and be baptized (Mark 1:4–5).
The Synoptic Gospels portray Jesus and John as allies in announcing the kingdom. It has been argued that the Fourth Gospel has an anti-Baptist polemic. Because of historical elements (in Ephesus?), it may be more accurate to say that the Fourth Gospel strives to clarify the Baptist’s place in salvation history. He is subordinate to Jesus by divine design (John 1–5) and by deed (John 10:41). He was the Elijah who was to come before the Christ (Matt. 11:14).
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.
Until the twentieth century, traveling farther than a week’s distance from home was dangerous and expensive. We should not overstate the difficulty or risks of travel then, but certainly it was unlike today. Since virtually every region had its own currency, travelers carried cash and were at risk from thieves, money changers, innkeepers, slavers, and others who preyed upon travelers, as well as from the natural dangers of storms, floods, early snows, and so forth. Outside of cities, there was little law enforcement for the typical traveler (Ezra 8:22). Family was often one’s only defender against injustice (Gen. 14:12–16; Ps. 127:3–5).
For travelers in the biblical world, improvement was slow and gradual. During the time of the patriarchs, travelers faced poor roads, bandits, and no security other than what they could provide themselves (Gen. 14:14). Later Assyrian documents complain of difficult roads. Sargon II (r. 722–705 BC) boasted, “I advanced over inaccessible paths (in) steep and terrifying places” (ARAB 2:25–26). Sennacherib (r. 705–681 BC) tells of having to travel on foot because the road was too steep for his litter (ARAB 2:122–23). Persian roads improved modestly, but Herodotus probably is exaggerating the improvements (Hist. 8.98), as Xenophon seems to indicate (Anab. 1.2.25). Many sources speak of bandits (Ezra 8:31; Hos. 6:9). Thus, safe travel or good roads became a metaphor for peace. When ancient kings bragged, it often was about roads they had built or how the roads were now safe. The arrival of the kingdom of God was symbolized by repairing the road (Isa. 40:3–5; Luke 3:4–6).
Major improvements came with the Roman Empire. For the first (and last) time, a traveler could go from the Euphrates to Egypt to Britain on well-policed roads and sea lanes under one’s own government. Enforced law and standardized, trustworthy coinage had distinct advantages (Isa. 33:8; Matt. 22:15–22).
Running empires required traveling. Envoys (Jer. 27:3), tax collectors (Dan. 11:20), and overseers (1 Kings 5:13–17), as well as armies, moved about on imperial business. While farmers and local merchants traveled limited distances to sell their wares (usually to the closest large city), fortunes could be made by the more adventuresome merchant willing to take the greater risks of traveling farther distances (Gen. 37:28; 1 Kings 10; Job 6:19; Prov. 31:14; Isa. 23:8; Matt. 13:45). The ancient world also saw individuals doing a great deal of local travel (less than sixty miles), usually connected to business (Prov. 31:14), religious festivals (1 Sam. 1; John 10), and family (Gen. 50:1–14; 2 Kings 8:29; Luke 1:39; John 2:1); often the three were woven together.
Travel in the ancient world was by sea or land. Except for the wealthy, this meant booking passage or walking. Sentimental images of a pregnant Mary riding a donkey to Bethlehem or of the apostle Paul doing missionary travels on horseback are likely fiction. Although there is some evidence of women traveling on donkeys (Josh. 15:18; 1 Sam. 25:20, 23; 2 Sam. 16:1–2), the stories are of prominent women or unusual occasions; it should not be assumed to be normative. Obviously, the infirm rode when required to travel, but they preferred not to travel (2 Sam. 19:26–37). The wealthiest used private transport (Acts 8:27–28). We have references to travel by donkey, mule, camel, horse, cart, litter, and chariot, but ordinary people walked. Typically, a good day’s walk was twenty miles; sea travel was by daylight and averaged roughly the same. Calculating how long it took someone to travel, though, is not merely a matter of math. Both sea and land travelers were fair-weather travelers, usually between June and September. On a long journey, one had to plan where to “winter.” Ancient travelers had to make their travel plans around the seasons.
Travel by Land
Roads. Until the Romans, a “road” was merely a cleared path. They were ungraded and often impassable in wet weather. Nonetheless, they followed a distinct route, marked by “guideposts” (Jer. 31:21). In the ancient world, major roads ran east-west from Syria into Mesopotamia. North-south roads connected Syria to Egypt, through Palestine. The Assyrian army invaded Israel by traveling west on the road as far as Syria and then turning south. The battles fought in Gen. 14 were to control the north-south road (and thus trade). Solomon built wealth by controlling this trade (2 Chron. 9:14). Three major roads ran north-south through Israel. (1) The King’s Highway (Num. 20:17) ran through the eastern region, from Damascus through the eastern highlands of the Transjordan and down to the Gulf of Aqaba, where Solomon maintained a port (2 Chron. 8:17). (2) The central (or Sinai) road ran from Sidon south to Tyre, Akko, Shechem, Jerusalem, Hebron, Beersheba, Kadesh Barnea, into the Negev, and on to Egypt. (3) The Sea Road (Via Maris) ran from Damascus to Hazor through the Valley of Jezreel (the Plain of Esdraelon through the Megiddo Pass), down the coast of Israel through Gaza and into Egypt. Taking Megiddo meant controlling this road and the trade. The Egyptians (Thutmose III) defeated the Canaanites and took this road around 1468 BC. David captured it about 1000 BC. Josiah died defending this road against the Egyptians (Necho II) in 609 BC.
The Greeks extended a major road connecting through Asia Minor to the ancient road running into Mesopotamia. The Romans built roads of flat stone placed upon foundations. Parts of these roads are still in use today. From Rome they built to the sea (Via Ostiensis, Via Portuensis), to the south (Via Appia), to the west (Via Aurelia), to the north (Via Flaminia), to the Adriatic (Via Salaria, Via Valeria), and to the east (Via Ignatia) connecting Rome to Greece and thus to the rest of the biblical world.
Lodgings. Land travel necessitated lodgings. The wealthy near Rome often had homes along the common routes that they plied. Slaves ran ahead to announce that the master was coming. Friends and those on the master’s business likely used these homes as well when traveling. When off the normal route, an aristocrat traveled with a retinue of servants, wagons, and tents to enable a well-equipped (and secure) camp each evening. The ordinary traveler had no extra homes or entourages. Groups large enough for safety could camp near town. Individuals relied upon hospitality in town. Those individual travelers unfortunate to lack any kinship with townsfolk often had no recourse but inns. Petronius (Sat. 94–97) tells a seamy story of misadventures in the roadside inns of his day. Archaeology and literature describe ill-kept dumps involving disreputable proprietors, questionable guests, and plenty of loose morals. Ancient Hebrews and early Christians emphasized hospitality (Gen. 19:1–2; Judg. 19:11–20; Rom. 12:13; 1 Pet. 4:9; 3 John 8).
Distance and duration. Using the distances between ancient stopping places, travel records, and comments in literary sources, scholars generally agree that a normal walking traveler could expect to cover twenty miles in a day. Peter’s trip from Joppa to Caesarea (about forty miles) took two days (Acts 10:23–30). Travelers using beasts of burden generally covered the same distance. Chariots averaged a bit better, perhaps twenty-five to thirty miles per day. Whether they actually traveled farther or just stopped earlier for the night is debatable. Horseback was intended for speed and could easily average fifty miles per day. Yet we must avoid the mistake of calculating travel time between places by simple math. While such calculations generally hold true for one- or two-day journeys (Acts 10), longer journeys encountered delays. Towns along main roads were commonly spaced a day’s walk apart. Yet it is unwise to assume that a traveler always left the next morning after an overnight stay. Jesus warned his traveling preachers against such rudeness (Luke 10:5–7). Moreover, the host likely provided the food supplies and extra funds for the traveler’s next walk (3 John 5–8; Did. 11.5–6). Certainly, Jewish travelers were affected by Sabbaths and feasts. Not only would they not travel on those days, but also they likely would delay or rush to reach a particular location (Acts 20:2–5, 16; 1 Cor. 16:8). Ancients traveled according to a different tempo than modern Westerners.
Seasons caused more serious delays. When traveling season ended, travelers were forced to spend the winter wherever they were at that time. If possible, they did not leave this to chance but rather planned where to “winter” (Jer. 36:22; Acts 27:12; 1 Cor. 16:6; Titus 3:12). Terrain was a serious consideration. Mountain passes and river fords were obvious factors, and ancients often took the easier (or safer) though longer path. Hence, there were three roads leading from Perga to Pisidian Antioch, the longest (western) being the safest and easiest. Uphill journeys, snow-blocked passes, and flash floods slowed ancient travelers, sometimes stranding them longer than their planned supplies would last (2 Cor. 6:5).
Traveling in groups. Since travelers carried money, they avoided traveling alone or in very small groups. (The so-called wise men of Matt. 2:1–12 almost certainly would have been waylaid had there been only three of them.) Commonly, travelers gathered in the agora (marketplace) early in the morning looking for fellow travelers heading their way, thus making traveling companions of those with whom they might not normally associate (Luke 9:57; 14:25). It was also common for travelers to join others along the road (Luke 24:13–16; Acts 8:27–30).
Travel by Sea
Ships. Almost all ancient ships were wooden. A “fast ship” was not necessarily a sleeker mode, but a dry one. Ideally, ships were stored out of the water during winter. Waterlogged ships were naturally slower.
No biblical empire was worth its salt unless it had naval supremacy in the Mediterranean Sea. Sailing vessels were at the mercy of the wind, so military ships meant galley ships. Rowing allowed captains to move without the wind. Today, we tend to imagine rowers like the “galley slaves” of the Middle Ages. Ancient rowers, however, were honored soldiers. Ships rammed each other in battle, and skill at the oar often meant the difference between victory and death. Once the enemy was rammed, rowers sprang up from their oars and fought hand to hand.
Piracy and commerce. No one could claim dominance of the sea without controlling piracy. The Roman navy, for the first time in history, managed to virtually eliminate piracy. Roman archers and slingers rained destruction as they drew near pirate vessels. Catapults later were added for heavy artillery. Finally, firepots slung out on long poles set fire to the enemy’s ship, which the Romans then rammed and boarded.
With the taming of the Mediterranean, commercial shipping exploded in growth. Transporting cargo, passengers, and dispatches became profitable business. Smaller ships (like a Galilean fishing boat) depended upon oars, with a small sail as an auxiliary. Larger merchant ships depended more on sails. Sailing ships, with favorable winds, probably averaged between two and four miles per hour, but only half that with unfavorable winds. Ancient ships hugged coastlines and avoided bad weather.
Common cargo ships carried an average of about 250 tons of cargo and/or passengers and ranged from 70 to 150 feet in length. Those carrying 350 to 500 tons were considered large but not rare. It is thought that the grain ships in Paul’s day (as in Acts 27) routinely were three-decked, 180 feet long, carried 1,300 tons, and took over a week to unload.
Traveling by ship. Although cargo ships also carried passengers, some ships were primarily for passengers. Josephus, on an unsuccessful attempt to sail to Rome, was on a ship with six hundred passengers (Josephus, Life 15). Sallust, a Roman historian, mentions a cohort (about 600 men) traveling on one transport ship (Hist. 3.8). Paul’s ship to Rome had 276 aboard (Acts 27:37). Acts gives the impression that this ship left too late in the season. Aside from those compelled by Rome, likely only the brave or the desperate would book such passage. Thus, we should not assume that the ship was fully booked.
Like land travel, however, sea travel also was restricted by season. In the eastern half of the Mediterranean, the wind blows from the northwest toward the southeast persistently from June to September, marking the favorable sailing season. Vegetius (Mil. 4.39) writes, “From the 6th day before the kalends of June [May 27] until the rising of Arcturus, that is until the 18th before the kalends of October [Sept. 14], is believed to be the safe period of navigation. . . . From then up to the 3rd before the ides of November, navigation is uncertain. . . . From the 3rd before the ides of November to the 6th before the ides of March, the seas are closed.” Many ancient writers indicated that sea travel in the winter was trecherous.
A person traveling by sea went first to the docks to inquire about ships headed to the desired destination. Harbor managers, dockhands, sailors, or others pointed inquirers toward appropriate ships. After negotiating with a particular ship’s purser, whose job was to book passengers (and guard against stowaways), a passenger was told what day and time to be aboard. The lowest level of ships held the ballast (usually sand or stone) and the bilgewater. Decking over it held cargo. Some ships berthed the cheapest passengers in this area, what we now refer to as steerage (Lucian observes that such passengers were “not even able to stretch their legs on the bare boards alongside the bilgewater” [Jupp. trag. 48]). Larger freighters had another deck above this that may have housed some passengers. In general, however, travelers in Paul’s day (like all travelers up until modern times) camped above deck (some with tents). Only the very wealthy rented cabins (P.Zen. 10). Shipwrecks and pirates were not the only dangers. A man cautioned his wife, “When you come, bring your gold ornaments, but do not wear them on the boat” (P.Mich. 3.214 [see also 8.468]). Then as now, tossing someone overboard left a clean crime scene (Jon. 1:15; cf. Acts 20:3).
Summary
Most biblical characters, like their peers, rarely traveled far from home. It is commonly estimated that Jesus’ ministry encompassed a distance no greater than one hundred miles from his home. His apostles, though, took advantage of the travel benefits of the Roman Empire. Paul was a far more experienced traveler than most, both by land and sea (Acts 27:9–10, 30–32), although he appears to have pushed the limits of safety on occasion. He mentions “sleepless nights and hunger” (2 Cor. 6:5) as well as being “in danger from rivers” and bandits (2 Cor. 11:26). In addition to what is reported in Acts 27, Paul was shipwrecked at least three other times (2 Cor. 11:25). Whether by land or sea, travel in ancient times was not for the fainthearted.
Until the twentieth century, traveling farther than a week’s distance from home was dangerous and expensive. We should not overstate the difficulty or risks of travel then, but certainly it was unlike today. Since virtually every region had its own currency, travelers carried cash and were at risk from thieves, money changers, innkeepers, slavers, and others who preyed upon travelers, as well as from the natural dangers of storms, floods, early snows, and so forth. Outside of cities, there was little law enforcement for the typical traveler (Ezra 8:22). Family was often one’s only defender against injustice (Gen. 14:12–16; Ps. 127:3–5).
For travelers in the biblical world, improvement was slow and gradual. During the time of the patriarchs, travelers faced poor roads, bandits, and no security other than what they could provide themselves (Gen. 14:14). Later Assyrian documents complain of difficult roads. Sargon II (r. 722–705 BC) boasted, “I advanced over inaccessible paths (in) steep and terrifying places” (ARAB 2:25–26). Sennacherib (r. 705–681 BC) tells of having to travel on foot because the road was too steep for his litter (ARAB 2:122–23). Persian roads improved modestly, but Herodotus probably is exaggerating the improvements (Hist. 8.98), as Xenophon seems to indicate (Anab. 1.2.25). Many sources speak of bandits (Ezra 8:31; Hos. 6:9). Thus, safe travel or good roads became a metaphor for peace. When ancient kings bragged, it often was about roads they had built or how the roads were now safe. The arrival of the kingdom of God was symbolized by repairing the road (Isa. 40:3–5; Luke 3:4–6).
Major improvements came with the Roman Empire. For the first (and last) time, a traveler could go from the Euphrates to Egypt to Britain on well-policed roads and sea lanes under one’s own government. Enforced law and standardized, trustworthy coinage had distinct advantages (Isa. 33:8; Matt. 22:15–22).
Running empires required traveling. Envoys (Jer. 27:3), tax collectors (Dan. 11:20), and overseers (1 Kings 5:13–17), as well as armies, moved about on imperial business. While farmers and local merchants traveled limited distances to sell their wares (usually to the closest large city), fortunes could be made by the more adventuresome merchant willing to take the greater risks of traveling farther distances (Gen. 37:28; 1 Kings 10; Job 6:19; Prov. 31:14; Isa. 23:8; Matt. 13:45). The ancient world also saw individuals doing a great deal of local travel (less than sixty miles), usually connected to business (Prov. 31:14), religious festivals (1 Sam. 1; John 10), and family (Gen. 50:1–14; 2 Kings 8:29; Luke 1:39; John 2:1); often the three were woven together.
Travel in the ancient world was by sea or land. Except for the wealthy, this meant booking passage or walking. Sentimental images of a pregnant Mary riding a donkey to Bethlehem or of the apostle Paul doing missionary travels on horseback are likely fiction. Although there is some evidence of women traveling on donkeys (Josh. 15:18; 1 Sam. 25:20, 23; 2 Sam. 16:1–2), the stories are of prominent women or unusual occasions; it should not be assumed to be normative. Obviously, the infirm rode when required to travel, but they preferred not to travel (2 Sam. 19:26–37). The wealthiest used private transport (Acts 8:27–28). We have references to travel by donkey, mule, camel, horse, cart, litter, and chariot, but ordinary people walked. Typically, a good day’s walk was twenty miles; sea travel was by daylight and averaged roughly the same. Calculating how long it took someone to travel, though, is not merely a matter of math. Both sea and land travelers were fair-weather travelers, usually between June and September. On a long journey, one had to plan where to “winter.” Ancient travelers had to make their travel plans around the seasons.
Travel by Land
Roads. Until the Romans, a “road” was merely a cleared path. They were ungraded and often impassable in wet weather. Nonetheless, they followed a distinct route, marked by “guideposts” (Jer. 31:21). In the ancient world, major roads ran east-west from Syria into Mesopotamia. North-south roads connected Syria to Egypt, through Palestine. The Assyrian army invaded Israel by traveling west on the road as far as Syria and then turning south. The battles fought in Gen. 14 were to control the north-south road (and thus trade). Solomon built wealth by controlling this trade (2 Chron. 9:14). Three major roads ran north-south through Israel. (1) The King’s Highway (Num. 20:17) ran through the eastern region, from Damascus through the eastern highlands of the Transjordan and down to the Gulf of Aqaba, where Solomon maintained a port (2 Chron. 8:17). (2) The central (or Sinai) road ran from Sidon south to Tyre, Akko, Shechem, Jerusalem, Hebron, Beersheba, Kadesh Barnea, into the Negev, and on to Egypt. (3) The Sea Road (Via Maris) ran from Damascus to Hazor through the Valley of Jezreel (the Plain of Esdraelon through the Megiddo Pass), down the coast of Israel through Gaza and into Egypt. Taking Megiddo meant controlling this road and the trade. The Egyptians (Thutmose III) defeated the Canaanites and took this road around 1468 BC. David captured it about 1000 BC. Josiah died defending this road against the Egyptians (Necho II) in 609 BC.
The Greeks extended a major road connecting through Asia Minor to the ancient road running into Mesopotamia. The Romans built roads of flat stone placed upon foundations. Parts of these roads are still in use today. From Rome they built to the sea (Via Ostiensis, Via Portuensis), to the south (Via Appia), to the west (Via Aurelia), to the north (Via Flaminia), to the Adriatic (Via Salaria, Via Valeria), and to the east (Via Ignatia) connecting Rome to Greece and thus to the rest of the biblical world.
Lodgings. Land travel necessitated lodgings. The wealthy near Rome often had homes along the common routes that they plied. Slaves ran ahead to announce that the master was coming. Friends and those on the master’s business likely used these homes as well when traveling. When off the normal route, an aristocrat traveled with a retinue of servants, wagons, and tents to enable a well-equipped (and secure) camp each evening. The ordinary traveler had no extra homes or entourages. Groups large enough for safety could camp near town. Individuals relied upon hospitality in town. Those individual travelers unfortunate to lack any kinship with townsfolk often had no recourse but inns. Petronius (Sat. 94–97) tells a seamy story of misadventures in the roadside inns of his day. Archaeology and literature describe ill-kept dumps involving disreputable proprietors, questionable guests, and plenty of loose morals. Ancient Hebrews and early Christians emphasized hospitality (Gen. 19:1–2; Judg. 19:11–20; Rom. 12:13; 1 Pet. 4:9; 3 John 8).
Distance and duration. Using the distances between ancient stopping places, travel records, and comments in literary sources, scholars generally agree that a normal walking traveler could expect to cover twenty miles in a day. Peter’s trip from Joppa to Caesarea (about forty miles) took two days (Acts 10:23–30). Travelers using beasts of burden generally covered the same distance. Chariots averaged a bit better, perhaps twenty-five to thirty miles per day. Whether they actually traveled farther or just stopped earlier for the night is debatable. Horseback was intended for speed and could easily average fifty miles per day. Yet we must avoid the mistake of calculating travel time between places by simple math. While such calculations generally hold true for one- or two-day journeys (Acts 10), longer journeys encountered delays. Towns along main roads were commonly spaced a day’s walk apart. Yet it is unwise to assume that a traveler always left the next morning after an overnight stay. Jesus warned his traveling preachers against such rudeness (Luke 10:5–7). Moreover, the host likely provided the food supplies and extra funds for the traveler’s next walk (3 John 5–8; Did. 11.5–6). Certainly, Jewish travelers were affected by Sabbaths and feasts. Not only would they not travel on those days, but also they likely would delay or rush to reach a particular location (Acts 20:2–5, 16; 1 Cor. 16:8). Ancients traveled according to a different tempo than modern Westerners.
Seasons caused more serious delays. When traveling season ended, travelers were forced to spend the winter wherever they were at that time. If possible, they did not leave this to chance but rather planned where to “winter” (Jer. 36:22; Acts 27:12; 1 Cor. 16:6; Titus 3:12). Terrain was a serious consideration. Mountain passes and river fords were obvious factors, and ancients often took the easier (or safer) though longer path. Hence, there were three roads leading from Perga to Pisidian Antioch, the longest (western) being the safest and easiest. Uphill journeys, snow-blocked passes, and flash floods slowed ancient travelers, sometimes stranding them longer than their planned supplies would last (2 Cor. 6:5).
Traveling in groups. Since travelers carried money, they avoided traveling alone or in very small groups. (The so-called wise men of Matt. 2:1–12 almost certainly would have been waylaid had there been only three of them.) Commonly, travelers gathered in the agora (marketplace) early in the morning looking for fellow travelers heading their way, thus making traveling companions of those with whom they might not normally associate (Luke 9:57; 14:25). It was also common for travelers to join others along the road (Luke 24:13–16; Acts 8:27–30).
Travel by Sea
Ships. Almost all ancient ships were wooden. A “fast ship” was not necessarily a sleeker mode, but a dry one. Ideally, ships were stored out of the water during winter. Waterlogged ships were naturally slower.
No biblical empire was worth its salt unless it had naval supremacy in the Mediterranean Sea. Sailing vessels were at the mercy of the wind, so military ships meant galley ships. Rowing allowed captains to move without the wind. Today, we tend to imagine rowers like the “galley slaves” of the Middle Ages. Ancient rowers, however, were honored soldiers. Ships rammed each other in battle, and skill at the oar often meant the difference between victory and death. Once the enemy was rammed, rowers sprang up from their oars and fought hand to hand.
Piracy and commerce. No one could claim dominance of the sea without controlling piracy. The Roman navy, for the first time in history, managed to virtually eliminate piracy. Roman archers and slingers rained destruction as they drew near pirate vessels. Catapults later were added for heavy artillery. Finally, firepots slung out on long poles set fire to the enemy’s ship, which the Romans then rammed and boarded.
With the taming of the Mediterranean, commercial shipping exploded in growth. Transporting cargo, passengers, and dispatches became profitable business. Smaller ships (like a Galilean fishing boat) depended upon oars, with a small sail as an auxiliary. Larger merchant ships depended more on sails. Sailing ships, with favorable winds, probably averaged between two and four miles per hour, but only half that with unfavorable winds. Ancient ships hugged coastlines and avoided bad weather.
Common cargo ships carried an average of about 250 tons of cargo and/or passengers and ranged from 70 to 150 feet in length. Those carrying 350 to 500 tons were considered large but not rare. It is thought that the grain ships in Paul’s day (as in Acts 27) routinely were three-decked, 180 feet long, carried 1,300 tons, and took over a week to unload.
Traveling by ship. Although cargo ships also carried passengers, some ships were primarily for passengers. Josephus, on an unsuccessful attempt to sail to Rome, was on a ship with six hundred passengers (Josephus, Life 15). Sallust, a Roman historian, mentions a cohort (about 600 men) traveling on one transport ship (Hist. 3.8). Paul’s ship to Rome had 276 aboard (Acts 27:37). Acts gives the impression that this ship left too late in the season. Aside from those compelled by Rome, likely only the brave or the desperate would book such passage. Thus, we should not assume that the ship was fully booked.
Like land travel, however, sea travel also was restricted by season. In the eastern half of the Mediterranean, the wind blows from the northwest toward the southeast persistently from June to September, marking the favorable sailing season. Vegetius (Mil. 4.39) writes, “From the 6th day before the kalends of June [May 27] until the rising of Arcturus, that is until the 18th before the kalends of October [Sept. 14], is believed to be the safe period of navigation. . . . From then up to the 3rd before the ides of November, navigation is uncertain. . . . From the 3rd before the ides of November to the 6th before the ides of March, the seas are closed.” Many ancient writers indicated that sea travel in the winter was trecherous.
A person traveling by sea went first to the docks to inquire about ships headed to the desired destination. Harbor managers, dockhands, sailors, or others pointed inquirers toward appropriate ships. After negotiating with a particular ship’s purser, whose job was to book passengers (and guard against stowaways), a passenger was told what day and time to be aboard. The lowest level of ships held the ballast (usually sand or stone) and the bilgewater. Decking over it held cargo. Some ships berthed the cheapest passengers in this area, what we now refer to as steerage (Lucian observes that such passengers were “not even able to stretch their legs on the bare boards alongside the bilgewater” [Jupp. trag. 48]). Larger freighters had another deck above this that may have housed some passengers. In general, however, travelers in Paul’s day (like all travelers up until modern times) camped above deck (some with tents). Only the very wealthy rented cabins (P.Zen. 10). Shipwrecks and pirates were not the only dangers. A man cautioned his wife, “When you come, bring your gold ornaments, but do not wear them on the boat” (P.Mich. 3.214 [see also 8.468]). Then as now, tossing someone overboard left a clean crime scene (Jon. 1:15; cf. Acts 20:3).
Summary
Most biblical characters, like their peers, rarely traveled far from home. It is commonly estimated that Jesus’ ministry encompassed a distance no greater than one hundred miles from his home. His apostles, though, took advantage of the travel benefits of the Roman Empire. Paul was a far more experienced traveler than most, both by land and sea (Acts 27:9–10, 30–32), although he appears to have pushed the limits of safety on occasion. He mentions “sleepless nights and hunger” (2 Cor. 6:5) as well as being “in danger from rivers” and bandits (2 Cor. 11:26). In addition to what is reported in Acts 27, Paul was shipwrecked at least three other times (2 Cor. 11:25). Whether by land or sea, travel in ancient times was not for the fainthearted.
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.
The traditional designation “virgin birth” refers to the supernatural conception of Jesus Christ by the Holy Spirit, apart from sexual relations. Technically, one should speak of a “virginal conception,” since Jesus was virginally conceived but was born normally. The virgin “birth” is considered by some theologians to be the means by which the two natures of Jesus Christ are preserved: his humanity stems from the fact that he was born of the virgin Mary, while his deity proceeds from the reality that God was his father and he was conceived by the Holy Spirit. The later Apostles’ Creed formulates the matter this way: Jesus Christ “was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary.” Here, three aspects of the virgin birth are discussed: (1) the virgin birth and Isa. 7:14; (2) the virgin birth in the NT; (3) the historicity of the virgin birth.
Isaiah 7:14. Isaiah 7:14 reads, “The virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel” (ESV). Two key issues are involved in Isaiah’s prophecy. First, should the Hebrew word ’almah be translated as “virgin” or as “young woman”? While the Hebrew term does not necessarily mean a virgin, but only a young woman of marriageable age, the Greek term parthenos used in the LXX of Isa. 7:14 and quoted in Matt. 1:23 has stronger connotations of virginity. Second, when was Isa. 7:14 fulfilled? Most likely the OT text was partially fulfilled in Isaiah’s day (with reference to King Ahaz’s unnamed son or to Isaiah’s son Maher-Shalal-Hash-Baz [Isa. 8:1]) but found its ultimate fulfillment in Jesus, as Matt. 1:23 points out.
New Testament. The infancy narratives recorded in Matt. 1–2 and in Luke 1–2 provide the story line for Jesus’ virginal conception: (1) Mary was a virgin engaged to Joseph (Matt. 1:18; Luke 1:27, 34; 2:5); (2) she was found to be pregnant while still engaged to Joseph, a conception produced by the Holy Spirit (Matt. 1:18, 20; Luke 1:35; cf. Matt. 1:18–25; Luke 1:34); (3) only after Jesus was born did Mary and Joseph have sexual relations (Matt. 1:24–25). Even though there is nothing in these narratives like the hypostatic union formulated in the later church creeds, it is clear that Matthew and Luke in some way associate Jesus’ deity and humanity with the virginal conception. Other NT texts are considered by some as possible references to the virgin birth. John 1:14 states that “the Word became flesh,” which certainly highlights Jesus’ two natures—deity and humanity—but does not thereby explicitly mention the virgin birth. Paul does something similar in Rom. 1:3 (“[God’s] Son, who as to his earthly life was a descendant of David”), Gal. 4:4 (“God sent his Son, born of a woman”), and Phil. 2:6–11 (Jesus existed in the form of God but took on human likeness). Beyond these passages, there is little else regarding the virgin birth stated or alluded to in the NT.
Historicity. Two important considerations indicate that the virgin birth of Jesus was a historical event and not a mythic legend. First, the simplicity of the descriptions of the birth narratives in Matthew and Luke, when compared with the fantastic details found in contemporary accounts of Greco-Roman and Jewish supernatural births, bespeak the authenticity of the NT documents. For example, one can cite the stories of the supernatural birth of Alexander the Great in Greek sources and of Noah in extrabiblical Jewish sources. In addition, secondary details such as the mention of Anna’s father, Phanuel (Luke 2:36), add nothing significant to the account and thus appear to be matter-of-fact reporting by an eyewitness. Second, the commonalities between Matthew and Luke regarding the virgin birth of Jesus attest to its historicity.
In conclusion, while the NT does not contain extensive information concerning the virgin birth of Jesus, there is sufficient evidence to support its historicity.
A divine communication in the form of visual imagery, usually accompanied by words, and often using symbols that require explanation and spur reflection about God’s otherwise imperceptible presence and activity. Presumably, the recipient “sees” the vision as an event of inward perception, often within a dream during sleep or in a divinely induced state of ecstasy (Gen. 15; Dan. 7:1; 10:1–9; 2 Cor. 12:1–4). Characteristically, visions entail conversation with God or an angelic representative, often following a question-and-answer format (Dan. 7:15–28; Zech. 1:8–15, 18–21). The visionary is actually in the scene as direct observer and active participant (Dan. 8:1–2).
Prophetic visions are meant to be retold. For example, imagery is accompanied by the authentication of divine commissioning (Isa. 6; Ezek. 1:1–3:15; Rev. 10), leading to announcement of judgment (Jer. 1:4–19). This close conjunction of image and word (1 Sam. 3:21) is reinforced by statements about a prophet “seeing” God’s word (e.g., Mic. 1:1 ESV, NRSV, NASB) and about prophetic books as collections of visions (2 Chron. 32:32; Nah. 1:1). Vision reports join oracles and other forms of prophetic speech as essential features of these works. Visions contribute to the community’s spiritual well-being (Prov. 29:18; Ezek. 7:26), but not always (Lam. 2:14; Ezek. 13; Zech. 13:4; Col. 2:18).
Visions drive the narrative surrounding Jesus’ birth (Matt. 1:18–2:23; Luke 1:1–2:20). The baptism of Jesus includes a visionary element, the Holy Spirit’s anointing of Jesus for his ministry, accompanied by the Father’s word (Matt. 3:16–17; Mark 1:10–11; Luke 3:22; John 1:32–33). Jesus’ transfiguration is comparable (Matt. 17:1–9; Mark 9:2–10; Luke 9:28–36). Visions mark key transition points in the narrative of Acts (e.g., chaps. 9–11). The book of Revelation opens with a vision of the Son of Man (1:9–20) and is structured around three vision cycles of judgment interspersed with visions of heaven meant to bolster the readers’ faithfulness.
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