Worship

This coming Sunday is the celebration of The Epiphany of the Lord. Three times in this text (vv. 2, 8, 11) the phrase “pay him homage”  is used. This is a single word in Greek (proskuneo) that refers to a posture of worship — bowing down; and an attitude of worship. It seems clear that Herod expresses the desire to “worship” Jesus, but one thinks it  would have been a false worship. His attitude is one of fear (v. 3) for his own position and status.  Many ask,  “If Herod and the religious leaders know where the king is to be born and if they really wanted to worship him, why don’t they go with the Magi?” It is perhaps no more complicated that the powerful center resists God’s purposes, while the lowly (Bethlehem) and marginal (the Gentile magi) embrace them.”

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The Gifts

This coming Sunday is the celebration of The Epiphany of the Lord. In the previous post we took a  look at the star the magi followed. Today we consider the gifts they carried.

After their audience with the king” Herod the magi set out to Bethlehem to find the newborn King. Matthew tells that upon their discovery of Mary and child “They prostrated themselves and did him homage. Then they opened their treasures and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.” Matthew simply tells us of the gifts but makes no hint at intending their symbolic meanings. (And on a technical note, the account is specific about the three gifts, but never specifically says there are three magi.) The traditional understanding of the meaning of the gifts is as follows:

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The Star

This coming Sunday is the celebration of The Epiphany of the Lord. In the previous post we considered a non-traditional look at the  magi. Today we consider the star they followed. 

The idea that the birth and death of great figures were accompanied by astral phenomena was widely accepted in ancient societies. The “star at its rising” has been variously interpreted as a new star (supernova), a comet, or the conjunction of the planets Jupiter and Saturn. Matthew likely draws upon the Old Testament story of Balaam, who had prophesied that “A star shall advance from Jacob” (Numbers 24:17), though in that verse the star means not an astral phenomenon but the king himself. The magi saw the star ‘at its rising’ 

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From the East – where exactly?

This coming Sunday is the celebration of The Epiphany of the Lord. In the previous post we outlined the basic story and discussed issues of dating the event and a took a first look at the magi. Today we take a second look at these travelers of whom St. Matthew only says, “Wise men came from the East.” East is East, but perhaps not the one traditionally thought about.

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Epiphany – the story begins

This coming Sunday is the celebration of The Epiphany of the Lord. In the previous post we considered St. Matthew’s setting for the gospel and how the account fits into the narrative arc of his entire gospel story.

Jesus is born, the magi arrive in Herod’s court stirring the pot as it were, consultations are made, the magi are told to go to Bethlehem, the star locates the Holy Family, and the magi do homage to the child. Meanwhile Herod plots and assumes the magi will return via Jerusalem and help the King fill in the details regarding this newborn king. But “having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, [the magi] departed for their country by another way.” It is a simple story in the telling, but less in the details, especially when those details pique our curiosity.

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The Epiphany of the Lord

This coming Sunday is the celebration of The Epiphany of the Lord. As much as we want to combine the nativity stories of Matthew and Luke, they really have no points of contact other than the birth of the child Jesus. Luke’s story is set among the lowly shepherds; Matthew’s story is set among royalty, chief priests and wealthy foreigners. The desire to make them one story is natural, but to do so misses the uniqueness and point of each gospel writer. Which would be a loss since Matthew’s story arcs across the ages and geography of the Middle East.

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Matthew and the Holy Family

In the short span of time between our celebration of Christmas and the Feast of the Holy Family, there is not sufficient time to have a week of posts – and besides, I hope your days are filled with visits from friends and family and you’ve got a fun-filled day ahead of you. But if you are interested, you can read a detailed commentary on the gospel reading for the Feast of the Holy Family. The commentary covers the flight to Egypt, the slaughter of the Holy Innocents, and the Holy Family’s return to Nazareth. Enjoy.


Image credit: Stained glass window, Sts. Joseph & Paul Catholic Church, Owensboro KY | PD

The Birth of the Baptist

The gospel for the 4th Tuesday of Advent is from Luke 1:57 and following, describing the birth of John the Baptist. With the birth of John, God continues to fulfill what he promised in Luke 1:5-25. John’s father, mute till now, regains his power of speech as soon as the name designated by the angel is confirmed. The people are filled with fear — not terror, but awesome reverence in the face of God’s wonderful deeds. They are not simply shocked but show their awareness of deeper meaning in the events.

The birth and circumcision of John emphasize John’s incorporation into the people of Israel by the sign of the covenant (Genesis 17:1-12). The narrative of John’s circumcision also prepares the way for the subsequent description of the circumcision of Jesus in Luke 2:21. At the beginning of his two-volume work Luke shows those who play crucial roles in the inauguration of Christianity to be wholly a part of the people of Israel. At the end of the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 21:20; 22:3; 23:6-9; 24:14-16; 26:2-8, 22-23) he will argue that Christianity is the direct descendant of Pharisaic Judaism.

Though children were often named at birth in the Old Testament (Gen 25:25-26; 29:32-35), it appears that sometimes such naming was associated with circumcision. The presence of the parents at circumcision shows them as pious, law-abiding Jews (Gen 21:4; Lev 12:3).  However grounded in custom, many features of the naming of John are surprising. 

The crowd fully expects custom to be followed. They wish the child to be named Zechariah. Children were often named after fathers or grandfathers (1 Maccabees 1:1-2; Josephus Life 15; Antiquities 14.1.3 10; 20.9.1 197; Jubilees 11:15). Elizabeth rejects the crowd’s desire and goes her own way. The name she chooses is the one the angel gave Zechariah in v.13. The text is silent on how she knew this name, but that detail is unimportant. The choice of the surprising name indicates that God’s will has been fulfilled through human obedience. 

The protest of the crowd shows that they are unaware of what God is doing. Surely the father of the house will not sanction this breaking of custom. So they motion to Zechariah to find out what the name of the child should be. By repeating the name his wife gave, Zechariah echoes the instructions of the angel, not the crowd and custom. In typical Lucan fashion, the responses of the people are (1) amazement (thaumazo, v. 63) and fear (phobos, v. 65). Both of these words occur more often in Luke than in the other gospels. They are not words of faith. In addition, there is a possible contrast between Zechariah’s reaction and his neighbors. “He was speaking (laleo –something he couldn’t do in 1:20, 22). What was he speaking? Praises to God (v. 64b). The neighbors talk about or discuss [dialaleo] these things with one another (v. 65). The only other time this second word is used in Luke, it is the Pharisees who are filled with anger and discuss what they might do to Jesus (6:11).

The praises to God are captured in Zechariah’s song, traditionally called the Benedictus from its first word in Latin. It is the NT canticle sung at Morning Prayers. Culpepper (“Luke,” New Interpreter’s Bible, p.59) writes:

The progression of thought in the Benedictus shows, however, that the true end of God’s redemption is not merely deliverance from political domination — as important as that is — but the creation of conditions in which God’s people can worship and serve God without fear…The ultimate purpose of God’s salvation presupposes deliverance from the enemy but is in fact undisturbed worship. Deliverance makes worship in peace — unhindered worship — possible. [p. 59]

Johnson (Luke, Sacra Pagina, 48) says much the same thing:

The canticle gives the reader the first sure sense of what “liberation” means for Luke. It is defined in specifically “religious” rather than political terms. Negatively defined, freedom means release from the power of enemies. But its positive content is worship and holiness of life. Thus John’s role in preparing the people for “restoration” involves the forgiveness of sins rather than the rallying of troops. Likewise the Messiah’s role is not one of violent revolt but rather of leading the people “in the path of peace.”

Previously, Johnson had noted how Zechariah fulfilled this canticle: “Luke has thereby made the experience of Zechariah a miniature enactment of his canticle: God’s mercy liberates the people to worship fearlessly; Zechariah’s release from muteness is expressed in praise” (p.57).

Zechariah’s canticle, like that of Mary, weaves traditional Hebrew quotations and themes into a hymn of praise. His hymn can be described as a “prophecy” under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Prophecy in this fundamental biblical sense does not mean primarily a foretelling of the future, as in modern parlance, but a divinely enlightened proclamation of the meaning of events. Zechariah sees in the birth of his son God’s remembrance of his covenant promises to David (2 Sam 7:8–16) and the definitive salvation for all the people. In the first part of the canticle, the salvation hoped for sounds roughly like the overthrow of national enemies (a concept of Messiah that would plague Jesus during his ministry), but in later verses salvation is understood more profoundly as freedom for worship.

The birth event of John the Baptist displays three unique features: (1) the old have given birth, (2) the child has an unexpected name, and (3) Zechariah’s handicap is taken away, whereupon he launches into praise about what God is doing. Such remarkable events cause the crowd to fear and reflect. Something different and surprising is happening, things worth remembering and considering. So they wonder, “What, then, will this child be?” Luke wants his readers to consider the same question. The story’s close indicates that “surely the hand of the Lord was with him.” Luke continues his purpose of giving the reader assurance of God’s faithfulness.

Luke’s way of ending this story of John’s birth is a good indication of his technique in keeping the reader’s attention on one episode at a time, even though several events are interlocked. Verse 80 has John growing up from infancy to manhood and taking his place in the desert even before Jesus’ birth is described. He is stationed there for his next appearance in the story thirty years later (3:1–3).


Image credit: Birth of St. John the Baptist, Artemisia Gentileschi, Prado Museum Madrid, Public Domain

Such a Simple Verse

24 When Joseph awoke, he did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took his wife into his home. 25 He had no relations with her until she bore a son,  and he named him Jesus

All Christian denominations adhere to the Virgin Birth of Jesus; it is essential orthodoxy. The controversy about the perpetual virginity of Mary arises out of later interpretations of “until” in v. 25.  Some argue that afterwards normal marital relations existed. In the English use of “until” something is negated up to a point in time, occurrence after that time is normally assumed. However, the expression (heōs hou) and its Semitic counterpart have no such assumption. In any case, the immediate Matthean context should be taken as silent on any future implication given Matthew’s stress on Mary’s virginity so that the Isaian prophecy is fulfilled.

The Virgin Birth was universally held in the earliest Church and confessed in The Apostles’ Creed and The Nicene Creed (325 A.D.) and its expansion at Constantinople (381 A.D.). These creeds enshrine the doctrine, showing it was not under dispute at the time but affirmed as essential to Christian faith — particularly as a testimony to Christ’s true humanity and divine origin. To be clear, The Nicene Creed says: 

“He was incarnate and was made man.” The phrase “born of the Virgin Mary” appears in the expanded Creed of Constantinople. The council was not addressing the Virgin Birth itself but the Arian heresy, which denied the full divinity of the Son. 

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Contrasts

Today’s first reading is taken from Judges 13:2–7, 24–25 and talks about Samson. The paired gospel is from Luke 1:5-25 in which an angel of the Lord comes to Zachariah to tell him that he and his wife Elizabeth, long considered barren, would have a child. At first blush it is an odd pairing – at least to my mind.

Samson was the last of the Judges of the ancient Israelites mentioned in the Book of Judges; he appears in  chapters 13 to 16. The “judges” were leaders (often military leaders) that the Lord appointed to deliver the Israelite people out of their current predicament with hostile neighbors. This is the age before the monarchs of Israel.

Samson’s mother was thought unable to have a child but in a miraculous turn of events she gives birth to Samson and dedicates him to the Lord. As a result he possessed immense strength enabling him to perform seemingly superhuman feats, including slaying a lion with his bare hands and single handedly killing an entire Philistine army with a donkey’s jawbone. These are the episodes most often featured in Christian comic books. In the final scene of his life, betrayed by his close associates, he is captured by the Philistines and is about to be offered as sacrifice to the pagan god Dagon. He used his superhuman strength to bring down the columns – collapsing the temple and killing both himself and the Philistines.  Superhero action aside, Samson is a vengeful bringer of death; there really is nothing in his character and life that is anything we would consider Christ-like. And yet the readings are juxtaposed in a way that calls for reflection of what we are to understand from the pairing. Both readings point to God’s saving plan beginning with a miraculous birth, but in what ways does Samson foreshadow John the Baptist or Jesus and in what ways is Samson different? Perhaps the pairing of readings is to cast Samson and John the Baptists as the ones who point to Jesus. In any case, both readings present the same divine pattern: God begins salvation not with armies or institutions, but with a child announced by God. 

In Judges 13 Samson’s mother is barren but an angel of the Lord announces the birth. One sees the pattern to be repeated in the annunciation to Zechariah. In each instance, the child is chosen before conception for a role in the Divine Plan – a plan that the parents do not initiate. It is God’s initiative by which the child is set apart before birth and his life is meant to serve God’s saving purpose for Israel. In his role as deliverer Samson imperfectly foreshadows Jesus in his role as Savior. We can compare and contrast this and perhaps tease out an understanding of why these readings are paired in Advent.

  • Samson is dedicated by his mother and is consecrated to God’s purpose. Jesus is not consecrated by vows, rather by his identity.
  • Samson’s role is partial and incomplete: “He shall begin to deliver Israel from the hand of the Philistines” (Judg 13:5) – limited to a single nation. Jesus comes to save Israel and the world from sin and death. His salvation is total and definitive. Samson points to a “deliverer,” but not the final one.
  • In Judges 13:25 we are told that “The Spirit of the LORD stirred him.” But as the story unfolds it is not clear Samson let the Spirit lead him. Jesus is conceived by the Holy Spirit, anointed at baptism by the Spirit and acts consistently under the Spirit’s guidance.
  • Samson is physically strong but spiritually weak. His strength is external and he repeatedly gives in to lust, anger, revenge, and impulsiveness. He breaks the very vows that consecrate him. Jesus, by contrast, shows strength through obedience, triumphs through humility, resists temptation in the wilderness, and is faithful unto death It might be said that Samson saves by force; Jesus saves by fidelity.
  • And consider the way Samson “delivers:” he kills enemies directly, his victories increase conflict, and his final act is destructive to others and himself. His death is simply tragic as he dies in despair and vengeance. Samson dies with his enemies. 
  • Jesus refuses violence, heals enemies, absorbs violence rather than inflicting, and saves via his own death on the cross – a gift that leads to resurrection – all given in love. Jesus dies for his enemies and his gift becomes the source of new life. 
  • Samson is morally inconsistent. His life is marked by compromise. His calling is real, but his obedience is partial. Jesus is the faithful Son who completes the Father’s will perfectly and as a result brings salvation to completion.

I think the Church gives us Samson during Advent to teach us something essential: God has always worked through human weakness, but that is not enough to save us. Every flawed deliverer increases our longing for the true one. Samson shows us how far God’s grace can take a person and how incomplete salvation remains without perfect obedience. Jesus is what Samson points toward but cannot become.

The readings remind us God is ever active in history, consistent in promise and covenant, and loved the world so much He would send his only Son – not to deliver us, but to redeem and save us.


Image credit: Samson slaying the lion | Peter Paul Rubens |  El Imparcial, Madrdi | PD-US