CONTENTS
Preface
PART I PARABLE, OVERTURE, AND CONTEXT
1 The Stories of the First Christmas
2 Parables as Overtures
3 The Context of the Christmas Stories
PART II GENEALOGY, CONCEPTION, AND BIRTH
4 Genealogy as Destiny
5 An Angel Comes to Mary
6 In David’s City of Bethlehem
Part III LIGHT, FULFILLMENT, AND JOY
7 Light Against the Darkness
8 Jesus as the Fulfillment of Prophecy
9 Joy to the World
Appendix 1 The Genealogies of Jesus in Matthew and Luke
Appendix 2 Luke’s Parallelism Between Jesus and John the Baptizer
Appendix 3 Jesus’s Coming-of-Age in Luke
Acknowledgments
Notes
About the Authors
Copyright
About the Publisher
PREFACE
This book, The First Christmas, treats what may be the best-known stories in the world. The stories of Jesus’s birth are the foundation of the world’s most widely observed holiday. Christmas is celebrated by the world’s two billion Christians, a number about twice that of the next largest religion, Islam. Moreover, because of the cultural and commercial importance of Christmas in Western culture and beyond, it is observed by many non-Christians as well. Indeed, no other religious holiday is so widely commemorated by people who are outside of the tradition that originated it.
The idea to write this book about the stories of the first Christmas flowed out of our previous collaboration, The Last Week. There we treated the last week of Jesus’s life as told by Mark, the earliest gospel. From Jesus’s entry into Jerusalem to his execution and resurrection, Mark provides a day-by-day account of Jesus’s final week. Known by Christians as Holy Week, it is the most sacred week of the Christian year.
For more than one reason, this book is an obvious sequel. The Last Week is about the end of the life of Jesus; The First Christmas is about the beginning. Together, the stories of his birth and the stories of his last week are like bookends that frame the gospel stories of his public activity, his mission and message. The stories of his birth, as we will suggest, are like overtures to the story of Jesus, just as Holy Week is its finale.
A second reason: just as Holy Week is the most sacred time of the Christian year, Christmas is the second most sacred time. Indeed, in contemporary Western culture and even for many Christians, the commemoration of Christmas exceeds the commemoration of Easter.
Because of the importance of Christmas, how we understand the stories of Jesus’s birth matters. What we think they’re about—how we hear them, read them, interpret them—matters.
They are often sentimentalized. And, of course, there is emotional power in them. They touch the deepest of human yearnings: for light in the darkness, for the fulfillment of our hopes, for a different kind of world. Moreover, for many Christians, they are associated with their earliest memories of childhood. Christmas has emotional power.
But the stories of Jesus’s birth are more than sentimental. The stories of the first Christmas are both personal and political. They speak of personal and political transformation. Set in their first-century context, they are comprehensive and passionate visions of another way of seeing life and of living our lives.
They challenge the common life, the status quo, of most times and places. Even as they are tidings of comfort and joy, they are edgy and challenging. They confront “normalcy,” what we call “the normalcy of civilization”—the way most societies, most human cultures, have been and are organized.
When we conceived this book, we thought we would call it The First Week. Doing so would echo the title of The Last Week and signal that these books are companion volumes, “bookends.” But our editor wisely suggested that The First Christmas would be a better title. The echo of The Last Week might be missed. Moreover, the birth stories are not about Jesus’s first week in the same way that Mark gives us a day-by-day account of Jesus’s final week. Instead, we have two chapters at the beginning of two gospels, Matthew and Luke. In each, the two chapters introduce the story of Jesus. They are, as we will suggest, parabolic overtures to the story of Jesus. And they cover more than his first week. They report his genealogy and conception, his birth and infancy, and one concludes with a story of him at age twelve.
So this book is about the “first Christmas” in the sense that it treats the stories of the first Christmas, the nativity stories of Jesus. They are richer and more challenging than is commonly imagined.
We are not concerned with the factuality of the birth stories. Though we comment on this issue and controversy in Chapter 2, our concern is neither to defend them as factual nor to trash them as nonfactual. Rather, we focus on their meanings. What did and do these stories mean?
Our task is twofold. The first is historical: to exposit these stories and their meanings in their first-century context. The second is contemporary: to treat their meanings for Christian understanding and commitment today.
Both tasks are historical and theological. The first-century context is not simply historical, but also theological. It concerns the conflict between an imperial theology and a theology grounded in the God of Israel as known in the Bible and Jesus. Our twenty-first-century context is also historical and theological. What do the stories of Jesus’s birth mean in our contemporary historical context?
We think hearing their ancient and contemporary meanings matters particularly for American Christians today. To say the obvious, America is in the powerful and perilous position of being the empire of our day. As we will see, the stories of the first Christmas are pervasively anti-imperial. In our setting, what does it mean to affirm with the Christmas stories that Jesus is the Son of God (and the emperor is not), that Jesus is the savior of the world (and the emperor is not), that Jesus is Lord (and the emperor is not), that Jesus is the way to peace on earth (and the emperor is not). The repetition risks growing tiresome.
There is a political meaning and challenge in these stories, both in their ancient setting and today. Of course, these stories are not “only” political—they are also deeply personal. They speak, and speak powerfully, about our deepest yearnings and about God’s promises and passion. They are religious in the way the Bible as a whole is religious: life with the God of Israel, the God of Jesus, is both personal and political. The personal and political meanings can be distinguished but not separated without betraying one or the other. And because the political meaning of these stories has commonly been overlooked, we highlight it in much of this book.
Doing so involves no denial of the way these stories also speak to our lives as individuals. They are about light in our darkness, the fulfillment of our deepest yearnings, and the birth of Christ within us. They are about us—our hopes and fears. And they are about a different kind of world. God’s dream for us is not simply peace of mind, but peace on earth.
PART I
PARABLE, OVERTURE, AND CONTEXT
CHAPTER ONE
THE STORIES OF THE FIRST CHRISTMAS
In this chapter, we introduce the stories of the first Christmas. Note the plural: we do not have a story of the first Christmas, but two. They are found in Matthew and Luke, two of the four gospels of the New Testament. Each begins with two chapters about the birth of Jesus.
We begin with the texts of Matthew 1–2 and Luke 1–2. We do so for more than one reason. Though general features of the stories are well known, the more specific details are not. Moreover, people seldom encounter them as “whole narratives”; most often they hear and know them in parts.
A third reason: Matthew�
�s and Luke’s stories are quite different from each other. Many Christians as well as non-Christians are not familiar with how different they are. Seeing these differences is utterly crucial to understanding why we (and contemporary biblical scholars generally) see them as we do. It is the foundation for what follows in this book. And so we present the stories by imagining a Christmas pageant based on each.
MATTHEW’S PAGEANT
Matthew’s birth story is significantly shorter than Luke’s. His gospel starts with a genealogy of Jesus, which takes up about two-thirds of his first chapter. Without the genealogy, the whole of Matthew’s birth story takes only 31 verses. Luke’s story, with 132, is about four times as long.
Suppose we imagine a Christmas pageant based on Matthew alone. What would it be like? It would begin with a whole lot of begetting, presumably read by a narrator. Matthew mentions forty-two generations of Jesus’s genealogy, although only forty are actually reported. We do not print Matthew’s genealogy here, but in Appendix 1. Then, in the last part of his chapter 1, his narrative of the events surrounding the birth of Jesus commences.
Scene One: Conception of Jesus and Joseph’s Dilemma
The first scene that could be dramatized in our imaginary pageant occurs at the end of Matthew 1:
Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:
“Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,”
which means, “God is with us.” When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus. (1:18–25)
In this first scene, Joseph is the main character. Mary neither speaks nor receives any revelation (and does not throughout Matthew’s story as a whole). Jesus’s birth is mentioned only in a passing phrase in the last verse of the chapter. Even here, Joseph is the subject of the sentence: “He had no marital relations with her [Mary] until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus” (1:25). There is no story of the birth itself, no swaddling clothes, no stable, no manger, no angels singing to shepherds on the night of Jesus’s birth. All of these are from Luke.
Our dramatization moves to the second chapter of Matthew. In this chapter, the main character is King Herod, known to history as Herod the Great, with a major supporting role played by the wise men. Of course, Mary, Joseph, and Jesus are also in this chapter—but what they do is in response to Herod’s actions. Herod drives the plot, which unfolds in five scenes.
Scene Two: Star, Wise Men, and Herod
King Herod’s court in Jerusalem is the setting:
In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born King of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:
‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.’”
Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” (2:1–8)
We begin to see Herod’s plot. Alarmed at the prospect of a rival king, Herod tells the wise men to bring him word of the child’s whereabouts, so that he can also pay him homage. Of course, that is not what he has in mind; he plans to kill the child.
Scene Three: Adoration of the Magi
The wise men—the Magi—follow the star to “the house” (not a stable), where they find Mary and Jesus. What has been known for centuries as the “Adoration of the Magi” then occurs:
When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road. (2:9–12)
At the end of the scene, the wise men are told in a dream not to return to Herod to tell him where the child is. They follow the instructions in the dream and return home by a different route.
Scene Four: Flight into Egypt to Escape Herod’s Plot
Though Joseph is the main character in this scene, Herod’s murderous intent continues to drive the plot:
Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, “Out of Egypt I have called my son.” (2:13–15)
The family lives in Egypt until the death of Herod.
Scene Five: Herod’s Slaughter of the Infants
We are back in Herod’s court. Realizing that the wise men are not coming back, he orders the killing of children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under. The slaughter is followed by much “wailing and loud lamentation”:
When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men. Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah:
“A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.”(2:16–18)
Scene Six: Return from Egypt and Move to Nazareth
Herod’s death triggers this scene. We are back in Egypt, where Joseph again has a dream in which an angel comes to him:
When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, “He will be called a Nazorean.” (2:19–23)
Note that Joseph intends to bring his family back to Bethlehem, their home in Matthew. But because of the deadly reputation of the new king, Herod’s son Archelaus, the family moves to Galilee instead, to the village of Nazareth.
This is the last scene in Matthew’s story of Jesus’s birth and the final scene in our imaginary pageant based on Matthew. From here, Matthew jumps forward i
n time thirty years. At the beginning of chapter 3, John the Baptizer is preaching in the wilderness and Jesus is a mature adult who goes to be with him. There is no mention of Jesus’s youth, except that he grew up in Nazareth.
Indeed, it is surprising how little of Matthew’s birth story is about Jesus; Jesus is almost “off stage.” Of course, in one sense, all of it is about Jesus—but so many familiar elements are missing. There is no story of a journey to Bethlehem, no story of his birth, no story of angels singing in the night sky, no story of shepherds coming to adore him. In addition, there is no story of his circumcision, no story of him being blessed in the temple as an infant by Simeon and Anna, no story of him later at age twelve in the temple amazing the teachers with his wisdom. All of these are in Luke. Instead, the narrative dynamic of Matthew’s story focuses on Joseph and his dilemma and on Herod and his unsuccessful attempt to destroy Jesus.
LUKE’S PAGEANT
We turn now to imagining a Christmas pageant based on the first two chapters of Luke. Unlike Matthew’s birth story, Luke’s does not include a genealogy. Instead, Luke attaches a genealogy to the story of the baptism of Jesus at the end of Luke 3. And as we did with Matthew’s, we print it in Appendix 1. The two genealogies, as we will see in Chapter 4, are quite different from each other.
Because of the length of Luke’s story (recall that it is four times as long as Matthew’s), it would be tedious to do this scene by scene as we did with Matthew. Instead, we print Luke’s story with concise section headings and then comment about the features that a pageant based on Luke would have. After a four-verse dedication of his gospel, Luke’s story of the events of the first Christmas begins in 1:5.
Conception of John the Baptizer
In the days of King Herod of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly order of Abijah. His wife was a descendant of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth. Both of them were righteous before God, living blamelessly according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord. But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were getting on in years.
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