F. The Return to Nazareth (2:19–23)

Text and Exposition

In each gospel, Jesus’ earthly ministry is preceded by an account of John the Baptist’s ministry. This formal similarity does not extend to the introductions to the Gospels. Mark 1:1 opens with a simple statement. Luke begins with a first-person preface in which he explains his purpose and methods, followed by a detailed and often poetic account of the miraculous births of John and Jesus (Lk 1:5–2:20) and a brief mention of Jesus’ boyhood trip to the temple (2:21–52). Luke reserves Jesus’ genealogy for ch. 3. John’s prologue (Jn 1:1–18) traces Jesus’ beginnings to eternity and presents the incarnation without referring to his conception and birth.

In each gospel, the introduction anticipates major themes and emphases. In Matthew, the prologue (Mt 1:1–2:23) introduces such themes as the son of David, the fulfillment of prophecy, the supernatural origin of Jesus the Messiah, and the Father’s sovereign protection of his Son in order to bring him to Nazareth and accomplish the divine plan of salvation from sin (see Stonehouse, Witness of Matthew, 123–28).

1A record of the genealogy of Jesus Christ the son of David, the son of Abraham:

2Abraham was the father of Isaac,

Isaac the father of Jacob,

Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers,

3Judah the father of Perez and Zerah, whose mother was Tamar,

Perez the father of Hezron,

Hezron the father of Ram,

4Ram the father of Amminadab,

Amminadab the father of Nahshon,

Nahshon the father of Salmon,

5Salmon the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab,

Boaz the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth,

Obed the father of Jesse,

6and Jesse the father of King David.

David was the father of Solomon, whose mother had been Uriah’s wife,

7Solomon the father of Rehoboam,

Rehoboam the father of Abijah,

Abijah the father of Asa,

8Asa the father of Jehoshaphat,

Jehoshaphat the father of Jehoram,

Jehoram the father of Uzziah,

9Uzziah the father of Jotham,

Jotham the father of Ahaz,

Ahaz the father of Hezekiah,

10Hezekiah the father of Manasseh,

Manasseh the father of Amon,

Amon the father of Josiah,

11and Josiah the father of Jeconiah and his brothers at the time of the exile to Babylon.

12After the exile to Babylon:

Jeconiah was the father of Shealtiel,

Shealtiel the father of Zerubbabel,

13Zerubbabel the father of Abiud,

Abiud the father of Eliakim,

Eliakim the father of Azor,

14Azor the father of Zadok,

Zadok the father of Akim,

Akim the father of Eliud,

15Eliud the father of Eleazar,

Eleazar the father of Matthan,

Matthan the father of Jacob,

16and Jacob the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary, of whom was born Jesus, who is called Christ.

17Thus there were fourteen generations in all from Abraham to David, fourteen from David to the exile to Babylon, and fourteen from the exile to the Christ.

COMMENTARY

1 The first two words of Matthew, biblos geneseōs, may be translated “record of the genealogy” (NIV), “record of the origins,” or “record of the history.” The NIV limits this title to the genealogy (1:1–17), the second could serve as a heading for the prologue (1:1–2:23), and the third as a heading for the entire gospel. The expression is found only twice in the LXX. In Genesis 2:4 it refers to the creation account (Ge 2:4–25), and in Genesis 5:1 to the ensuing genealogy. From the latter, it appears possible to follow the NIV (so also Hendriksen; McNeile; France [NICNT]), but because the noun genesis (NIV, “birth”) reappears in Matthew 1:18 (one of only five NT occurrences), it seems likely that the heading in 1:1 extends beyond the genealogy. No occurrence of the expression as a heading for a book-length document has come to light. Therefore we must discount the increasingly popular view (Davies, Setting; Gaechter; Hill; Maier) that Matthew means to refer to his entire gospel, “A record of the history of Jesus Christ.” Matthew rather intends his first two chapters to be a coherent and unified “record of the origins of Jesus Christ” (rightly, Blomberg [NAC]).

The designation “Jesus Christ the son of David, the son of Abraham” resonates with biblical nuances. (For “Jesus,” see

In Jesus’ day, Palestine was rife with messianic expectation. Not all of it was coherent, and many Jews expected two different “Messiahs.” But Matthew’s linking of “Christ” and “son of David” leaves no doubt about what he is claiming for Jesus.

In the Gospels, “Christ” is relatively rare (as compared with Paul’s epistles). More important, it almost always appears as a title, strictly equivalent to “the Messiah” (see esp. 16:16). But it was natural for Christians after the resurrection to use “Christ” as a name not less than as a title; increasingly they spoke of “Jesus Christ” or “Christ Jesus” or simply “Christ.” Paul normally treats “Christ,” at least in part, as a name, but it is doubtful whether the titular force ever entirely disappears. Of Matthew’s approximately eighteen occurrences, all are exclusively titular except this one (1:1), probably 1:16, certainly 1:18, and possibly the variant at 16:21. The three uses of “Christ” in the prologue reflect the confessional stance from which Matthew writes. He is a committed Christian who has long since become familiar with the common way of using the word as both title and name. At the same time, it is a mark of Matthew’s concern for historical accuracy that Jesus is not so designated by his contemporaries.

“Son of David” is an important designation in Matthew. Not only does David become a turning point in the genealogy (1:6, 17), but the title recurs throughout the gospel (9:27; 12:23; 15:22; 20:30–31; 21:9, 15; 22:42, 45). God swore covenant love to David (Ps 89:28) and promised that one of his immediate descendants would establish the kingdom—even more, that David’s kingdom and throne would endure forever (2Sa 7:12–16). Isaiah foresaw that a “son” would be given, a son with the most extravagant titles:

Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace:

Of the increase of his government and peace

there will be no end.

He will reign on David’s throne

and over his kingdom,

establishing and upholding it

with justice and righteousness

from that time on and forever.

The zeal of the LORD Almighty

will accomplish this.

Isaiah 9:6–7

In Jesus’ day, at least some branches of popular Judaism understood “son of David” to be messianic (cf. Ps. Sol. 17:21; for a summary of the complex intertestamental evidence, see Berger, “Die königlichen Messiastraditionen,” esp. 3–9). The theme was important in early Christianity (cf. Lk 1:32, 69; Jn 7:42; Ac 13:23; Ro 1:3; Rev 22:16). God’s promises, though long delayed, had not been forgotten; Jesus and his ministry were perceived as God’s fulfillment of covenantal promises now centuries old. The tree of David, hacked off so that only a stump remained, was sprouting a new branch (Isa 11:1).

Jesus is also “son of Abraham.” It could not be otherwise, given that he is son of David. Yet Abraham is mentioned for several important reasons. “Son of Abraham” may have been a recognized messianic title in some branches of Judaism (cf. T. Levi 8:15). The covenant with the Jewish people had first been made with Abraham (Ge 12:1–3; 17:7; 22:18), a connection Paul sees as basic to Christianity (Gal 3:16). More important, Genesis 22:18 had promised that through Abraham’s offspring “all nations” (panta ta ethnē, LXX) would be blessed; so with this allusion to Abraham, Matthew is preparing his readers for the final words of this offspring from Abraham—the commission to make disciples of “all nations” (Mt 28:19, panta ta ethnē). Jesus the Messiah came in fulfillment of the kingdom promises to David and of the Gentile-blessings promised to Abraham (see Mt 3:9; 8:11).

2–17 Study has shown that genealogies in the Ancient Near East could serve widely diverse functions: economic, tribal, political, domestic (to show family or geographical relationships), and others (see Johnson, Purpose of the Biblical Genealogies; Robert R. Wilson, Genealogy and History in the Biblical World [New Haven, Conn.: Yale Univ. Press, 1977]; Brown, Birth of the Messiah, 64–66). The danger in such study is that Matthew’s intentions may be overridden by colorful backgrounds of doubtful relevance to the text itself. Johnson sees Matthew’s genealogy as a response to Jewish slander. H. V. Winkings (“The Nativity Stories and Docetism,” NTS 23 [1977]: 457–60) sees it as an answer to late first-century Docetism that denied the essential humanity of Jesus. One wonders whether a virgin birth would have been the best way to go about correcting the Docetists.

D. E. Nineham (“The Genealogy in St. Matthew’s Gospel and Its Significance for the Study of the Gospels,” BJRL 58 [1976]: 491–544) finds in this genealogy the assurance that God is in sovereign control. Yet it is unclear how he reconciles this assurance with his conviction that the genealogy is of little historical worth. If Matthew made much of it up, then we may admire his faith that God was in control. But since Matthew’s basis was (according to Nineham) faulty, it gives the reader little incentive to share the same faith.

Actually, Matthew’s chief aims in including the genealogy are hinted at in the first verse—namely, to show that Jesus Messiah is truly in the kingly line of David, heir to the messianic promises, the one who brings divine blessings to all nations. Therefore the genealogy focuses on King David (1:6) on the one hand, yet on the other hand includes Gentile women (see

For many, whatever its aims, the historical value of Matthew’s genealogy is nil. R. E. Brown (Birth of the Messiah, 505–12) bucks the tide when he cautiously affirms that Jesus sprang from the house of David. Many ancient genealogies are discounted as being of little historical value because they evidently intend to impart more than historical information (cf. esp. Wilson, Genealogy and History). To do this, however, is to fall into a false historical disjunction, for many genealogies intend to make more than historical points by referring to historical lines.

Part of the historical evaluation of vv.2–17 rests on the reliability of Matthew’s sources. The names in the first two-thirds of the genealogy are taken from the LXX (1Ch 1–3, esp. 2:1–15; 3:5–24; Ru 4:12–22). After Zerubbabel, Matthew relies on extrabiblical sources of which we know nothing. But there is good evidence that records were kept at least till the end of the first century. Josephus (Life 6 [1]) refers to the “public registers” from which he extracts his genealogical information (see also Josephus, Ag. Ap. 1.28–56 [6–10]). According to Genesis Rabbah 98:8, Rabbi Hillel was proved to be a descendant of David because a genealogical scroll was found in Jerusalem. Eusebius (Hist. eccl. 3.19–20) cites Hegesippus to the effect that Emperor Domitian (AD 81–96) ordered all descendants of David slain. Nevertheless, two of them, when summoned, though admitting their Davidic descent, showed their calloused hands to prove they were but poor farmers. So they were let go. But the account shows that genealogical information was still available.

While no twentieth-century Jew could prove he was from the tribe of Judah, let alone from the house of David, this does not appear to have been a problem in the first century, when lineage was important in gaining access to temple worship. Whether Matthew had access to the records himself or gleaned his information from intermediate sources, we cannot know from this distance; but in any case, we “have no good reason to doubt that this genealogy was transmitted in good faith” (Albright and Mann).

More difficult is the question of the relation of Matthew’s genealogy to Luke’s, in particular the part from David on (cf. Lk 3:23–31). There are basic differences between the two: Matthew begins with Abraham and moves forward; Luke begins with Jesus and moves backward to Adam. Matthew traces the line through Jeconiah, Shealtiel, and Zerubbabel; Luke through Neri, Shealtiel, and Zerubbabel. More important, Luke 3:31 traces the line through David’s son Nathan (cf. 2Sa 5:14), and Matthew through the kingly line of Solomon. It is often said that no reconciliation between the two genealogies is possible (so E. L. Abel, “The Genealogies of Jesus ho Christos” NTS 20 [1974]: 203–10). Nevertheless two theories are worth weighing:

1. Some have argued that Luke gives Mary’s genealogy but substitutes Joseph’s name (Lk 3:23) to avoid mentioning a woman. And there is some evidence to support the notion that Mary herself was a descendant of David (cf. Lk 1:32). That Mary was related to Elizabeth, who was married to the Levite Zechariah (Lk 1:5–36), is no problem, since intermarriage between tribes was not uncommon. Indeed, Aaron’s wife may well have sprung from Judah (cf. Ex 6:23; Nu 2:3) (so CHS; Bengel, Gnomon; Luther). H. A.W. Meyer rearranges the punctuation in Luke 3:23 to read “being the son (of Joseph as was supposed) of Heli [i.e., Mary’s father], of Matthat.” But this is painfully artificial and could not easily be deduced by a reader with a text without punctuation marks or brackets, which is how the NT Greek manuscripts were first written. Few would guess simply by reading Luke that he is giving Mary’s genealogy. The theory stems, not from the text of Luke, but from the need to harmonize the two genealogies. On the face of it, both Matthew and Luke aim to give Joseph’s genealogy.

2. Others have argued, more plausibly, that Luke provides Joseph’s real genealogy and Matthew the throne succession—a succession that finally jumps to Joseph’s line by default. In his commentary, David Hill offers independent Jewish evidence for a possible double line (Tg. Zec. 12:12). This hypothesis has various forms. The oldest goes back to Julius Africanus (ca. AD 225; cf. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 1. 7), who argued that Matthew provides the natural genealogy and Luke the royal—the reverse of the modern theory (so Hill). In its modern form, the theory seems reasonable enough: where the purpose is to provide Joseph’s actual descent back to David, this could best be done by tracing the family tradition through his real father Heli, to his father Matthat, and thus back to Nathan and David (so Luke); and where the purpose is to provide the throne succession, it is natural to begin with David and work down.

As most frequently presented, this theory has a serious problem (cf. Brown, Birth of the Messiah, 503–4). It is normally argued that Joseph’s father in Matthew 1:16, Jacob, was a full brother of Joseph’s father mentioned in Luke 3:23, Heli; that Jacob, the royal heir, died without offspring; and that Heli married Jacob’s widow according to the laws of levirate marriage (Dt 25:5–10). (Though levirate marriages may not have been common in the first century, it is unlikely that they were completely unknown. Otherwise the question of the Sadducees [Mt 22:24–28] was phrased in irrelevant terms.) But if Jacob and Heli are to be reckoned as full brothers, then Matthan (Matthew) and Matthat (Luke) must be the same man—even though their fathers, Eleazar (Matthew) and Levi (Luke) respectively, are different. It seems artificial to appeal to a second levirate marriage. Some have therefore argued that Jacob and Heli were only half brothers, which entails a further coincidence, namely, that their mother married two men, Matthan and Matthat, with remarkably similar names. We do not know whether levirate marriage was practiced in the case of half brothers. Moreover, since the whole purpose of levirate marriage was to raise up a child in the deceased father’s name, why does Luke provide the name of the actual father?

R. E. Brown judges the problems insurmountable but fails to consider the elegant solution suggested by J. Gresham Machen (Virgin Birth, 207–9) fifty years ago. If we assume that Matthat and Matthan are not the same person, there is no need to appeal to levirate marriage. The difficulty regarding the father of Matthat and the father of Matthan disappears; yet their respective sons Heli and Jacob may have been so closely related (e.g., if Heli was an heirless only son whose sister married Jacob son of Matthan) that if Heli died, Jacob’s son Joseph became his heir. Alternatively, if Matthan and Matthat are the same person (presupposing a levirate marriage one generation earlier), we “need only to suppose that Jacob [Joseph’s father according to Matthew] died without issue, so that his nephew, the son of his brother Heli [Joseph’s father according to Luke], would become his heir” (p. 208).

Other differences between Matthew and Luke are more amenable to obvious solutions. As for the omissions from Matthew’s genealogy and the structure of the three series of fourteen, see

2 Of the twelve sons of Jacob, Judah is singled out, as his tribe bears the scepter (Ge 49:10; cf. Heb 7:14). The words “and his brothers” are not “an addition which indicates that of the several possible ancestors of the royal line Judah alone was chosen” (Hill), since that restriction was already achieved by stipulating Judah; and in no other entry (except v.11; see

3–5 Probably Perez and Zerah (v.3) are both mentioned because they are twins (Ge 38:27; cf. 1Ch 2:4); Judah’s other sons receive no mention. Ruth 4:12, 18–22 trace the messianic line from Perez to David. There is some evidence that “son of Perez” was a rabbinic designation of Messiah (Str-B, 1:18), but the dating of the sources is uncertain.

Tamar, wife of Judah’s son Er, is the first of four women mentioned in the genealogy (see

Similarly, the line between Amminadab and David is short. More names may have been omitted. Whether such names properly fit before Boaz, so that Rahab was not the immediate mother of Boaz (just as Eve was not immediately “the mother of all the living,” Ge 3:20), or after Boaz, or both, one cannot be sure. It is almost certain, however, that the Rahab mentioned is the prostitute of Joshua 2 and 6 (see

6 The word “King” with “David” would evoke profound nostalgia and arouse eschatological hope in first-century Jews. Matthew thus makes the royal theme explicit: King Messiah has appeared. David’s royal authority, lost at the exile, has now been regained and surpassed by “great David’s greater son” (so James Montgomery’s hymn “Hail to the Lord’s Anointed”; cf. Hill; see 2Sa 7:12–16; Pss 89:19–29, 35–37; 132:11). David became the father of Solomon; but Solomon’s mother “had been Uriah’s wife” (cf. 2Sa 11:27; 12:4). Bathsheba thus becomes the fourth woman to be mentioned in this genealogy.

Inclusion of these four women in the Messiah’s genealogy instead of an all-male listing (which was customary)—or at least the names of such great matriarchs as Sarah, Rebekah, and Leah—shows that Matthew is conveying more than merely genealogical data. Tamar enticed her father-in-law into an incestuous relationship (Ge 38). The prostitute Rahab saved the spies and joined the Israelites (Jos 2; 6). Hebrews 11:31 and James 2:25 encourage us to think she abandoned her former way of life. She is certainly prominent in Jewish tradition, some of it fantastic (see A. T. Hanson, “Rahab the Harlot in Early Christian Tradition,” JSNT 1 [1978]: 53–60). Ruth, Tamar, and Rahab were aliens. Bathsheba was taken into an adulterous union with David, who committed murder to cover it up. Matthew’s peculiar way of referring to her, “Uriah’s wife,” may be an attempt to focus on the fact that Uriah was not an Israelite but a Hittite (2Sa 11:3; 23:39). Bathsheba herself was apparently the daughter of an Israelite (1Ch 3:5 [variant reading]), but her marriage to Uriah probably led to her being regarded as a Hittite.

Several reasons have been suggested to explain the inclusion of these women. Some have pointed out that three were Gentiles and the fourth probably regarded as such (Lohmeyer; Maier; Schweizer). This goes well with the reference to Abraham (see

A third interpretation (favored by Allen; Fenton; Filson; Green; Hill; Lohmeyer; Brown, Birth of the Messiah) holds that all four reveal something of the strange and unexpected workings of providence in preparation for the Messiah and that as such they point to Mary’s unexpected but providential conception of Jesus.

There is no reason to rule out any of the above interpretations. Matthew, Jew that he is, knows how to write with an allusive touch; and readers steeped in the OT would naturally call to mind a plethora of images associated with many names in this selective genealogy.

7–10 The names in these verses seem to have been taken from 1 Chronicles 3:10–14. Behind “Asa” (v.7) lurks a difficult textual decision (see Notes). There is no obvious pattern. Wicked Rehoboam was the father of wicked Abijah, the father of the good king Asa. Asa was the father of the good king Jehoshaphat (v.8), who sired the wicked king Joram. Good or evil, they were part of Messiah’s line; for though grace does not run in the blood, God’s providence cannot be deceived or outmaneuvered.

Three names have been omitted between Joram and Uzziah: Ahaziah, Joash, and Amaziah (2Ki 8:24; 1Ch 3:11; 2Ch 22:1, 11; 24:27). “Uzziah” (vv.8–9) is equivalent to Azariah (1Ch 3:11; cf. 2Ki 15:13, 30 with 2Ki 15:1). The three omissions not only secure fourteen generations in this part of the genealogy (see

R. E. Brown (Birth of the Messiah, 82) points out that Manasseh was even more wicked, and he is included. Therefore (with Schweizer), Brown prefers an explanation of the omissions based on a text-critical confusion between “Azariah” and “Uzziah.” This conjecture is plausible; but if it is correct, it would have to be pre-Matthean, because Matthew’s “fourteens” (see

11 Another name has been dropped. Josiah was the father of Jehoiakim (609–597 BC), who was deposed in favor of his son Jehoiachin (some manuscripts in both OT and NT have “Jeconiah” for the latter). He was deposed after a reign of only three months, and his brother Zedekiah reigned in his stead till the final deportation and destruction of the city in 587 BC (cf. 2Ki 23:34; 24:6, 14–15; 1Ch 3:16; Jer 27:20; 28:1). The words “and his brothers” are probably added in this instance because one of them, Zedekiah, maintained a caretaker reign until the tragedy of 587 BC; but Zedekiah is not mentioned because the royal line does not flow through him but through Jeconiah. The exile to Babylon marked the end of the reign of David’s line—a momentous event in OT history. Alternatively, “and his brothers” may refer, not to the royal brothers, but to all the Jews who went into captivity with Jeconiah (so Gundry). The locus of the people of God is thus traced from the patriarchs (“and his brothers,” Mt 1:2) to the shame of the exile, a theme to be developed later (see

12 The final list of “fourteen” (see

Several solutions have been offered, most not very convincing (cf. Machen, Virgin Birth, 206–7). Some Greek manuscripts omit Pedaiah in 1 Chronicles 3:19. But the best suggestion is a levirate marriage (Dt 25:5–10; cf. Ge 38:8–9), scarcely an embarrassment to those who have adopted the explanation above (see

13–15 The nine names from Abiud to Jacob are not otherwise known to us today. Possibly names have been omitted from this genealogical section also, but then one wonders why this third section of the genealogy appears to lack one entry (see

16 The wording in the best reading (see Notes), reflected in the NIV, is precise. Joseph’s royal line has been traced; Joseph is the husband of Mary; Mary is the mother of Jesus. The relation between Joseph and Jesus is so far unstated. But this peculiar form of expression cries out for the explanation provided in the ensuing verses. Legally, Jesus stands in line to the throne of David; physically, he is born of a woman “found to be with child through the Holy Spirit” (v.18). Her son is Jesus, “who is called Christ.” The Greek does not make it clear whether “Christ” is titular or not; but name or title, Jesus’ messiahship is affirmed.

17 It was customary among Jewish writers to arrange genealogies according to some convenient scheme, possibly for mnemonic reasons. Strictly speaking, the Greek text speaks of “all the generations from Abraham to David ... to Christ” (cf. KJV, NASB); but since the omissions are obvious to both Matthew and his readers, the expression must mean “all the generations ... included in this table.” So it becomes a hint that the fourteens, here so strongly brought to the reader’s attention, are symbolic.

Various arrangements of the three fourteens have been proposed. In one the first set of fourteen runs from Abraham to David, the second from Solomon to Jeconiah, and the third attains fourteen by repeating Jeconiah and running to Jesus. Hendriksen, 125–26, suggests Matthew purposely counts Jeconiah twice: first he presents Jeconiah as cursed, childless, deported (2Ki 24:8–12; Jer 22:30), and the second time he reminds the reader that Jeconiah was subsequently released from prison and restored and became the father of many (2Ki 25:27–30; 1Ch 3:17–18; Jer 52:31–34)—a new man as it were. But Matthew does not mention these themes, which do not clearly fit into the main concerns of this chapter. Schweizer prefers to count from Abraham to David. Then, because David is mentioned twice, he passes from David to Josiah, the last free king; and then Jeconiah to Jesus provides a third set of fourteen, at the expense of making the central set one member short and of ignoring the small but distinct literary pause at the end of v.11. McNeile postulates a possible loss of one name between Jeconiah and Shealtiel owing to homoeoteleuton (identical endings), but there is no textual evidence for it. Gundry thinks that Mary as well as Joseph counts for one, pointing to the two kinds of generation, legal (Joseph’s) and physical (Mary’s). No solution so far proposed seems entirely convincing, and it is difficult to rule any out.

The symbolic value of the fourteens is of more significance than their precise breakdown. Herman C. Waetjen (“The Genealogy as the Key to the Gospel according to Matthew,” JBL 95 [1976]: 205–30; cf. Johnson, Purpose of the Biblical Genealogies, 193–94) tries to solve both problems by appealing to 2 Baruch 53–74 (usually dated ca. AD 50–70). This apocalyptic book divides history into a scheme of 12 + 2 = 14 units. Matthew, Waetjen argues, holds that just as David and Jeconiah are transitional figures in the genealogy, so also is Jesus. He is the end of the third period and simultaneously the beginning of the fourth, the inaugurated kingdom. Jesus is therefore the thirteenth and the fourteenth entries, the former a period of gloom in 2 Baruch (corresponding to the passion in Matthew) and the fourteenth opening into the new age.

But this analysis will not do. Two objections are crucial: (1) It is not at all clear that one may legitimately jump from schematized time periods in apocalyptic literature to names in a genealogy (Is anything less apocalyptic than a genealogy?) just because of a common number. (2) Waetjen has “corrected” the omission in the third set of fourteen by listing Jesus twice, even though the second reference to Jesus, in his scheme, properly belongs to the inaugurated kingdom and not to the third set, which remains deficient.

Schemes like those of Hendriksen that reduce the 3 × 14 pattern to 6 × 7 and then picture Jesus’ coming to inaugurate the seventh seven—the sign of perfection, the dawning of the Messianic Age (cf. 1 En. 91:12–17; 93:1–10)—stumble over the fact that Matthew has not presented his genealogy as six sevens but as three fourteens (cf. Brown, Birth of the Messiah, 75). Other suggestions include those of Johnson (Purpose of the Biblical Genealogies, 189–208) and Goulder (Midrash and Lection, 228–33).

The simplest explanation—the one that best fits the context—observes that the numerical value of “David” in Hebrew is fourteen (see Notes). By this symbolism, Matthew points out that the promised “son of David” (1:1), the Messiah, has come. And if the third set of fourteen is short one member, perhaps it will suggest to some readers that just as God cuts short the time of distress for the sake of his elect (24:22), so also he mercifully shortens the period from the exile to Jesus the Messiah.

NOTES

1 For a broader grasp of the place of the Messiah in the OT, cf. Ladd, Theology of the New Testament, 136ff.; Illustrated Bible Dictionary [ed. Douglas], 2:987–95.

3 Older EV (e.g., KJV) have the names Tamar and Hezron in the OT and Thamar and Esrom in the NT. Because English OT names are roughly transliterated from the Hebrew and English NT names are roughly transliterated from the Greek, which for many names transliterates from the Hebrew, we have these variations. The NIV rightly smoothes them out.

7–8 In these verses, the best textual evidence supports ᾽Ασάφ (Asaph), not ᾽Ασά (Asa). It is transcriptionally more probable that Asaph would be changed to Asa than vice versa (for the opposite view, see Lagrange). Robert Gundry suggests that Asaph is a deliberate change by Matthew to call up images of the psalmist (Pss 50, 73–83), as “Amos” (see Notes, v.10) calls to mind the prophet. This is too cryptic to be believable. Orthography was not as consistent in the ancient world as it is today. Josephus (Ant. 8.290–315 [12.1–6]), for instance, uses ῎Ασανος (Asanos), but in the ancient Latin translation, Asaph is presupposed. “Mary” varies in the NT between Μαρία (Maria) and Μαριάμ (Mariam). In 1 Chronicles 3:10 (LXX), most MSS read ᾽Ασά (Asa), but one offers ᾽Ασάβ (Asab; see Metzger, Textual Commentary, 1 n. 1). In short, Matthew could well be following a MS with Asaph even though Asa is quite clearly the person meant.

10 The textual evidence for ᾽Αμώς (Amōs) and ᾽Αμών (Amōn) breaks down much as in vv.7–8. In this case, however, there is greater diversity in the readings of LXX MSS for 1 Chronicles 3:14, on which Matthew 1:10 depends.

11 The term μετοικεσία (metoikesia, “exile,” GK 3578) occurs but four times in the NT, all in this chapter (vv.11–12, 17); but it refers (in LXX) to the Babylonian exile in 2 Kings 24:16; 1 Chronicles 5:22; Ezekiel 12:11. Βαβυλῶνος (Babylōnos, “Babylon”) is a genitive “of direction and purpose” (cf. BDF, para. 166).

Eduard Schweizer’s suggestion that Jehoiakim and his son Jehoiachin have been fused into a single figure because in 2 Kings 24:6 (LXX) they are both called “Jehoiakim” explains little, since Matthew betrays a deep knowledge of the OT not likely to be confused by one versional mistransliteration; and in any case, Matthew’s term is “Jeconiah.”

16 The best textual variant, supported by a spread of text types in Greek and versional witnesses and by all but one uncial, stands behind the NIV. Several Caesarean and OT witnesses prefer “Joseph, to whom was betrothed the virgin Mary who begot Jesus who is called Christ.” This is transcriptionally less likely than the first alternative, in which “the husband” of Mary might well have been thought misleading. No Greek MS supports syr^s in its reading: “Joseph, to whom was betrothed Mary the virgin, begot Jesus who is called the Christ.” At first glance it seems to deny the virgin birth by ascribing paternity to Joseph; but the “begot” may have merely legal significance, since Mary is still referred to as “the virgin.” In any case, this last reading is not well attested. Peter J. Williams (Early Syriac Translation Technique and the Textual Criticism of the Greek Gospels [Piscataway, N.J.: Gorgias, 2004], 240–44) shows convincingly that this Syriac version may itself be dependent on a misreading of an early Greek recension. The enormously complex problems of textual criticism in this verse are competently treated by Metzger, New Testament Studies, 105–13; Machen, Virgin Birth, 176–87; Brown, Birth of the Messiah, 62–64, 139; and A. Globe, “Some Doctrinal Variants in Matthew 1 and Luke 2, and the Authority of the Neutral Text,” CBQ 42 (1980): 55–72, esp. 63–65.

17 In the ancient world, letters served not only as the building blocks of words but also as symbols of numbers. Hence any word had a numerical value. The use of such symbolism is known as gematria. In Hebrew, “David” is : (dāwid); and d = 4, w = 6 (the vowels, a later addition to the text, don’t count). Therefore “David” = dwd = 4 + 6 + 4 = 14. (This would not work in the Dead Sea Scrolls, where, with one exception [CD 7:16], the consonantal spelling of “David” is dwyd = .)

OVERVIEW

Two matters call for brief remarks: the historicity of the virgin birth (more properly, virginal conception), and the theological emphases surrounding this theme in Matthew 1–2 and its relation to the NT.

First, the historicity of the virgin birth is questioned for many reasons.

1. The accounts in Matthew and Luke are apparently independent and highly divergent. This argues for creative forces in the church making up all or parts of the stories in order to explain the person of Jesus. But the stories have long been shown to be compatible (Machen, Virgin Birth), even mutually complementary. Moreover, literary independence of Matthew and Luke at this point does not demand the conclusion that the two evangelists were ignorant of each other’s content. Yet if they were, their differences suggest to some the strength of mutual compatibility without collusion. Matthew focuses largely on Joseph, Luke on Mary. R. E. Brown (Birth of the Messiah, 35) does not accept this because he finds it inconceivable that Joseph could have told his story without mentioning the annunciation or that Mary could have passed on her story without mentioning the flight to Egypt. True enough, though it does not follow that the evangelists were bound to include all they knew. It is hard to imagine how the annunciation would have fit in very well with Matthew’s themes. Moreover, we have already observed that Matthew was prepared to omit things he knew in order to present his chosen themes coherently and concisely.

2. Some simply discount the supernatural. Goulder (Midrash and Lection, 33) says Matthew made the stories up; Schweizer contrasts the ancient world in which virgin birth was (allegedly) an accepted notion with modern scientific limitations on what is possible (similarly Robert J. Miller, Born Divine: The Births of Jesus and Other Sons of God [Santa Rosa, Calif.: Polebridge, 2003]). But the antithesis is greatly exaggerated. Thoroughgoing rationalists were not uncommon in the first century (e.g., Lucretius); and millions of modern Christians, scientifically aware, find little difficulty in believing in the virgin birth or in a God who is capable of intervening miraculously in what is, after all, his own creation. (On Miller, see the rather scathing review by Kim Paffenroth in CBQ 68 [2006]: 341–42.)

More important, Matthew’s point in these chapters is surely that the virgin birth and attendant circumstances were most extraordinary. Only here does he mention Magi; and dreams and visions as a means of guidance are by no means common in the NT (though even here one wonders whether Western Christianity could learn something from Third-World Christianity). Certainly Matthew’s account is infinitely more sober than the wildly speculative stories preserved in the apocryphal gospels (e.g., Prot. Jas. 12:3–20:4; cf. Hennecke, New Testament Apocrypha, 1:381–85). R. E. Brown (Birth of the Messiah) accepts the historicity of the virgin birth but discounts the historicity of the visit of the Magi and related events. But if he can swallow the virgin birth, it is difficult to see why he strains out the Magi. (See the useful book of Manuel Miguens, The Virgin Birth: An Evaluation of Scriptural Evidence [Westminster, Md.: Christian Classics, 1975].)

3. Many point to artificialities in the narrative: e.g., the structure of the genealogy or the delay in mentioning Bethlehem as the place of birth (e.g., Hill). We have noted, however, that though Matthew’s arrangement of the genealogy gives us more than a mere table of names and dates, it does not tell us less. More than any of the synoptists, Matthew delights in topical arrangements. But that does not make his accounts less than historical. We are not shut up to the extreme choice—historical chronicles or theological invention! Matthew does not mention Bethlehem in 1:18–25 because it does not suit any of his themes. In ch. 2, however, as Tatum has shown (W. B. Tatum Jr., “The Matthean Infancy Narratives: Their Form, Structure, and Relation to the Theology of the First Evangelist” [PhD diss., Duke University, 1967]), one of the themes unifying Matthew’s narrative is Jesus’ “geographical origins”; and therefore Bethlehem is introduced.

4. It has become increasingly common to identify the literary genre in Mt 1–2 as “midrash” or “midrashic haggadah” and to conclude that these stories are not intended to be taken literally (e.g., with widely differing perspectives, Gundry; Goulder, Midrash and Lection; Davies, Setting, 66–67). There is nothing fundamentally objectionable in the suggestion that some stories in the Bible are not meant to be taken as fact; parables are such stories. The problem is the slipperiness of the categories (see Introduction, ;

R. E. Brown (Birth of the Messiah, 557–63) argues convincingly that Matthew 1–2 is not midrash. Yet he thinks the sort of person who could invent stories to explain OT texts (midrash) could also invent stories to explain Jesus. Matthew 1–2, though not itself midrash, is at least midrashic. That may be so. Unfortunately, not only does the statement fall short of proof, but the appeal to a known and recognizable literary genre is thus lost. So we have no objective basis for arguing that Matthew’s first readers would readily detect his midrashic methods. Of course, if “midrashic” means that Matthew intends to present a panorama of OT allusions and themes, these chapters are certainly midrashic. In that sense, the studies of Goulder, Gundry, Davies, and others have served us well by warning us against a too rigid pattern of linear thought. But used in this sense, it is not at all clear that “midrashic material” is necessarily unhistorical.

5. A related objection insists that these stories “are not primarily didactic” but “kerygmatic” (Davies, Setting, 67), that they are intended as proclamations about the truth of the person of Jesus but not as factual information. The rigid dichotomy between proclamation and teaching is not as defensible as when C. H. Dodd first proposed it (see

6. Some argue that the (to us) artificial way these chapters cite the OT shows small concern for historicity. The reverse argument is surely more impressive: If the events of chs. 1–2 do not relate easily to the OT texts, this attests their historical credibility; for no one in his right mind would invent “fulfillment” episodes problematic to the texts being fulfilled. The fulfillment texts, though difficult, do fit into a coherent pattern (see Introduction, ;

Second, the following theological considerations require mention.

1. Often it is argued or even assumed (e.g., Dunn, Christology, 49–50) that the concepts “virginal” conception and “preexistence” applied to the one person Jesus are mutually exclusive. Certainly it is difficult to see how a divine being could become genuinely human by means of an ordinary birth. Nevertheless, there is no logical or theological reason to think that virginal conception and preexistence preclude each other.

2. Related to this is the theory of R. E. Brown (Birth of the Messiah, 140–41), who proposes a retrojected Christology. The early Christians, he argues, first focused attention on Jesus’ resurrection, which they perceived as the moment of his installation into his messianic role. Then with further reflection they pushed back the time of his installation to his baptism, then to his birth, and finally to a theory regarding his preexistence. There may be some truth to the scheme. Just as the first Christians did not come to an instant grasp of the relationship between law and gospel (as the book of Acts amply demonstrates), so their understanding of Jesus doubtless matured and deepened with time and further revelation. But the theory often depends on a rigid and false reconstruction of early church history (see Introduction, ) and dates the documents, against other evidence, on the basis of this reconstruction. Worse, in the hands of some it transforms the understanding of the disciples into historical reality—i.e., Jesus had no preexistence and was not virgin born, but these things were progressively predicated of him by his followers. Gospel evidence for Jesus’ self-perception as preexistent is then facilely dismissed as late and inauthentic. The method is of doubtful worth.

Matthew, despite his strong insistence on Jesus’ virginal conception, includes several veiled allusions to Jesus’ preexistence, and there is no reason to think he found the two concepts incompatible. Moreover R. H. Fuller (“The Conception/Birth of Jesus as a Christological Moment,” JSNT 1 [1978]: 37–52) has shown that the virginal conception-birth motif in the NT is not infrequently connected with the “sending of the Son” motif, which (contra Fuller) in many places already presupposes the preexistence of the Son.

3. We are dealing in these chapters with King Messiah, who comes to his people in covenant relationship. The point is well established, if occasionally exaggerated, by Brian Nolan (Royal Son of God), who speaks of the “Royal Covenant Christology.”

4. It is remarkable that the title “Son of God,” important later in Matthew, is not found in chs. 1–2. It may lurk behind 2:15. Still it would be false to argue that Matthew does not connect the virgin birth with the title “Son of God” (though more commonly Matthew connects the title with Davidic royal messianism). Matthew 1–2 serve as a finely wrought prologue for every major theme in the gospel. We must therefore understand Matthew to be telling us that if Jesus is physically Mary’s son and legally Joseph’s son, at an even more fundamental level he is God’s Son; and in this, Matthew agrees with Luke’s statement (Lk 1:35). The dual paternity, one legal and one divine, is unambiguous (see Cyrus H. Gordon, “Paternity at Two Levels,” JBL 96 [1977]: 101).

18This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. 19Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.

20But after he had considered 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 home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

22All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: 23“The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel”—which means, “God with us.”

24When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. 25But he had no union with her until she gave birth to a son. And he gave him the name Jesus.

COMMENTARY

18 The word translated “birth” is, in the best MSS (see Notes), the word translated “genealogy” in 1:1. Maier prefers “history” of Jesus Christ, taking the phrase to refer to the rest of Matthew’s gospel. Yet it is best to take the word to mean “birth” or “origins” in the sense of the beginnings of Jesus Messiah. Even a well-developed Christology would not want to read the man “Jesus” and his name back into a preexistent state (see

“Before they came together” (prin ē synelthein autous) occasionally refers in classical Greek to sexual intercourse (LSJ, 1712); in the other thirty instances of synerchomai (GK 5302) in the NT, there is, however, no sexual overtone. But here sexual union is included, occurring at the formal marriage when the “wife” moved in with her “husband.” Only then was sexual intercourse proper. The phrase affirms that Mary’s pregnancy was discovered while she was still betrothed, and the context presupposes that both Mary and Joseph had been chaste (cf. McHugh, Mother of Jesus, 157–63; and for the customs of the day, m. Qidd. [“Betrothals”] and m. Ketub. [“Marriage Deeds”]).

That Mary was “found” to be with child does not suggest a surreptitious attempt at concealment (“found out”) but only that her pregnancy became obvious. This pregnancy came about through the Holy Spirit (even more prominent in Luke’s birth narratives). There is no hint of pagan deity-human coupling in crassly physical terms. Instead, the power of the Lord, manifest in the Holy Spirit who was expected to be active in the messianic age, miraculously brought about the conception.

19 The peculiar Greek expression in this verse allows several interpretations. There are three important ones.

1. Because Joseph, knowing about the virginal conception, was a just man and had no desire to bring the matter out in the open (i.e., to divulge this miraculous conception), he felt unworthy to continue his plans to marry one so highly favored and planned to withdraw (so Gundry; Schlatter; McHugh, Mother of Jesus, 164–72). This assumes that Mary told Joseph about the conception. Nevertheless, the natural way to read vv.18–19 is that Joseph learned of his betrothed’s condition when it became unmistakable, not when she told him. Moreover, the angel’s reason for Joseph to proceed with the marriage (v.20) assumes (contra Zerwick, Biblical Greek, para. 477) that Joseph did not know about the virginal conception.

2. Because Joseph was a just man and because he did not want to expose Mary to public disgrace, he proposed a quiet divorce. The problem with this is that “just” (NIV, “righteous,” GK 1465) is not defined according to OT law but is taken in the sense of merciful, not given to passionate vengeance, or even nice (cf. 1Sa 24:17). But this is not its normal sense. Strictly speaking, justice conceived in Mosaic prescriptions demanded some sort of action.

3. Because he was a righteous man, Joseph therefore could not in conscience marry Mary, who was now thought to be unfaithful. And because such a marriage would have been a tacit admission of his own guilt and also because he was unwilling to expose her to the disgrace of public divorce, Joseph therefore chose a quieter way, permitted by the law itself. The full rigor of the law might have led to Mary’s stoning, though that was rarely carried out in the first century. Still, a public divorce was possible, though Joseph was apparently unwilling to expose Mary to such shame. The law also allowed for private divorce before two witnesses (Nu 5:11–31 interpreted as in m. Soṭah 1:1–5; cf. David Hill, “A Note on Matthew i.19,” ExpTim 76 [1964–65]: 133–34; A. Tosato, “Joseph, Being a Just Man (Mt 1:19),” CBQ 41 [1979]: 547–51). That was what Joseph purposed. It would leave both his righteousness (his conformity to the law) and his compassion intact.

20 Joseph tried to solve his dilemma in what seemed to him the best way possible. Only then did God intervene with a dream. Dreams as means of divine communication in the NT are concentrated in Matthew’s prologue (1:20; 2:2, 13, 19, 22; elsewhere, possibly 27:19; Ac 2:17). An “angel of the Lord” (four times in the prologue: Mt 1:20, 24; 2:13, 19) calls to mind divine messengers in past ages (e.g., Ge 16:7–14; 22:11–18; Ex 3:2–4:16), in which it was not always clear whether the heavenly “messenger” (the meaning of angelos, GK 34) was a manifestation of Yahweh. They most commonly appeared as men. We must not read medieval paintings into the word “angel” or the stylized cherubim of Revelation 4:6–8. The focus is on God’s gracious intervention and the messenger’s private communication, not on the details of angelology and their panoramic sweeps of history common in Jewish apocalyptic literature (cf. Bonnard).

The angel’s opening words, “Joseph son of David,” tie this pericope to the preceding genealogy, maintain interest in the theme of the Davidic Messiah, and, from Joseph’s perspective, alert him to the significance of the role he is to play. The prohibition “do not be afraid” confirms that Joseph had already decided on his course when God intervened. He was to “take” Mary home as his wife—an expression primarily reflecting marriage customs of the day but not excluding sexual intercourse (cf. TDNT, 4:11–14, for other uses of the verb)—because Mary’s pregnancy was the direct action of the Holy Spirit (a reason that makes nonsense of the attempt by James LaGrand [“How Was the Virgin Mary ‘Like a Man’ ...? A Note on Mt 1:18b and Related Syriac Christian Texts,” NovT 22 (1980): 97–107] to make the reference to the Holy Spirit in v.18, ek pneumatos hagiou [“through the Holy Spirit”], mean that Mary brought forth, “as a man, by will”).

21 It was no doubt divine grace that solicited Mary’s cooperation before the conception and Joseph’s cooperation only after it. Here Joseph is drawn into the mystery of the incarnation. In patriarchal times, either a mother (Ge 4:25) or a father (Ge 4:26; 5:3; cf. Brown, Birth of the Messiah, 130) could name a child. According to Luke 1:31, Mary was told Jesus’ name, but Joseph was told both the name and the reason for it. The Greek is literally “you will call his name Jesus,” strange in both English and Greek. Not only is this a Semitism (BDF, para. 157 [2]—the expression recurs in Mt 1:23, 25; Lk 1:13, 31); it uses the future indicative (kaleseis, lit., “you will call,” GK 2813) with imperatival force—hence the NIV, “You are to give him the name Jesus.” This construction is very rare in the NT, except where the LXX is being cited, and the effect is to give the verse a strong OT nuance.

“Jesus” (Iēsous, GK 2652) is the Greek form of “Joshua” (cf. Gk. of Ac 7:45; Heb 4:8), which, whether in the long form y^ehōšûaʿ (GK 3397, “Yahweh is salvation,” Ex 24:13) or in one of the short forms, e.g., yēšûaʿ (“Yahweh saves,” Ne 7:7), identifies Mary’s son as the one who brings Yahweh’s promised eschatological salvation. There are several Joshuas in the OT, at least two of them not very significant (1Sa 6:14; 2Ki 23:8). Two others, however, are used in the NT as types of Christ: Joshua, successor to Moses and the one who led the people into the promised land (and a type of Christ in Heb 4), and Joshua the high priest, contemporary of Zerubbabel (Ezr 2:2; 3:2–9; Ne 7:7), “the Branch” who builds the temple of the Lord (Zec 6:11–13). But instead of referring to either of these, the angel explains the significance of the name by referring to Psalm 130:8: “He [Yahweh] himself will redeem Israel from all their sins” (cf. Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 127–28).

There was much Jewish expectation of a Messiah who would “redeem” Israel from Roman tyranny and even purify his people, whether by fiat or appeal to law (e.g., Ps. Sol. 17). But there was no expectation that the Davidic Messiah would give his own life as a ransom (Mt 20:28) to save his people from their sins. The verb “save” (sōzō, GK 5392) can refer to deliverance from physical danger (8:25), disease (9:21–22), or even death (24:22); in the NT it commonly refers to the comprehensive salvation inaugurated by Jesus that will be consummated at his return. Here it focuses on what is central, namely, salvation from sins; for in the biblical perspective, sin is the basic (if not always the immediate) cause of all other calamities. This verse therefore orients the reader to the fundamental purpose of Jesus’ coming and the essential nature of the reign he inaugurates as King Messiah, heir of David’s throne (cf. Ridderbos, Coming of the Kingdom, 193, 201).

Though to Joseph “his people” would be the Jews, even Joseph would understand from the OT that some Jews fell under God’s judgment, while others became a godly remnant. In any event, it is not long until Matthew says that both John the Baptist (3:9) and Jesus (8:11) picture Gentiles joining with the godly remnant to become disciples of the Messiah and members of “his people” (see

22 Although most EV conclude the angel’s remarks at the end of v.21, there is good reason to think they continue to the end of v.23, or at least to the end of the word “Immanuel.” This particular fulfillment formula occurs only three times in Matthew—here; 21:4; 26:56. In the last, it is natural to take it as part of Jesus’ reported speech (cf. 26:55), and this is possible, though less likely, in 21:4. Matthew’s patterns are fairly consistent. So it is not unnatural to extend the quotation to the end of 1:23 as well. (The JB recognizes Matthew’s consistency by ending Jesus’ words in 26:55, making 26:56 Matthew’s remark!) This is more convincing when we recall that only these three fulfillment formulas use the perfect gegonen (NIV, “took place”) instead of the expected aorist. Some take the verb as an instance of a perfect standing for an aorist (so BDF, para. 343, but this is a disputed classification). Others think it means the event “stands recorded” in the abiding Christian tradition (McNeile; Moule, Idiom Book, 15); still others take it as a stylistic indicator that Matthew himself introduced the fulfillment passage (Rothfuchs, Erfüllungszitate, 33–36). But if we hold that Matthew presents the angel as saying the words, then the perfect may enjoy its normal force: “all this has taken place” (cf. Fenton; Stendahl, “Matthew,” in Peake’s Commentary).

R. E. Brown (Birth of the Messiah, 144 n. 31) objects that nowhere in Scripture does an angel cite Scripture in this fashion; but, equally, nowhere in Scripture is there a virgin birth in this fashion. Matthew knew that Satan can cite Scripture (4:6–7); he may not have thought it strange if an angel does. Broadus’s objection, that the angel would in that case be anticipating an event that has not yet occurred, and this is strange when cast in fulfillment language, lacks weight, for the conception has occurred and the pregnancy has become well advanced, even if the birth has not yet taken place. Joseph needs to know at this stage that “all this took place” to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet. The weightiest argument is the perfect tense.

The last clause is phrased with exquisite care, literally, “the word spoken by [hypo] the Lord through [dia] the prophet.” The prepositions make a distinction between the mediate and the intermediate agent (Grammar, 636), presupposing a view of Scripture like that in 2 Peter 1:21. Matthew uses the verb “fulfill” (plēroō, GK 4444) primarily in his own fulfillment formulas (1:22; 2:15, 17, 23; 4:14; 8:17; 12:17; 13:35; 21:4; 26:56; 27:9; cf. 26:54) but also in a few other contexts (3:15; 5:17; 13:48; 23:32). (On Matthew’s understanding of fulfillment and on the origins of his fulfillment texts, see

Here two observations are in order. First, most of Matthew’s OT quotations are easy enough to understand, but the difficult exceptions have sometimes tended to increase the difficulty of the easier ones. Hard cases make bad theology as well as bad law. Second, Matthew is not simply ripping texts out of OT contexts because he needs to find a prophecy in order to generate a fulfillment. Discernible principles govern his choices, the most important being that he finds in the OT not only isolated predictions regarding the Messiah but also OT history and people as paradigms that, to those with eyes to see, point forward to the Messiah (see

23 This verse, on which the literature is legion, is reasonably clear in its context here in Matthew. Mary is the virgin; Jesus is her son, Immanuel. But because it is a quotation from Isaiah 7:14, complex issues are raised concerning Matthew’s use of the OT.

The linguistic evidence is not as determinative as some think. The Hebrew word ʿalmâ (GK 6625) is not precisely equivalent to the English word “virgin” (NIV), in which all the focus is on the lack of sexual experience; nor is it precisely equivalent to “young woman,” in which the focus is on age without reference to sexual experience. Many prefer the translation “young woman of marriageable age.” Yet most of the few OT occurrences refer to a young woman of marriageable age who is also a virgin. The most disputed passage is Proverbs 30:19: “The way of a man with a maiden” (italics added). Here the focus of the word is certainly not on virginity. Some claim that here the maiden cannot possibly be a virgin; others (see esp. E. J. Young, Studies in Isaiah [London: Tyndale, 1954], 143–98; Richard Niessen, “The Virginity of the in Isaiah 7:14,” BSac 137 [1980]: 133–50) insist that Proverbs 30:19 refers to a young man wooing and winning a maiden still a virgin.

Although it is fair to say that most OT occurrences presuppose that the ʿalmâ is a virgin, because of Proverbs 30:19, one cannot be certain the word necessarily means that. Linguistics has shown that the etymological arguments (reviewed by Richard Niessen) have little force. Young argues that ʿalmâ is chosen by Isaiah because the most likely alternative (b^etûlâ, GK 1435) can refer to a married woman (Joel 1:8 is commonly cited; Young is supported by Gordon J. Wenham, “Bethulah, ‘A Girl of Marriageable Age,’” VT 22 [1972]: 326–29). Again, however, the linguistic argument is not as clear-cut as we might like. Tom Wadsworth (“Is There a Hebrew Word for Virgin? Bethulah in the Old Testament,” ResQ 23 [1980]: 161–71) insists that every occurrence of b^etûlâ in the OT does refer to a virgin—the woman in Joel 1:8, for instance, is betrothed. Again the evidence is a trifle ambiguous. For the most recent bibliography, see the notes in R. Bruce Compton, “The Immanuel Prophecy in Isaiah 7:14–16,” Detroit Baptist Seminary Journal 12 (2007): 3–15. In short, there is a presumption in favor of rendering ʿalmâ by “young virgin” or the like in Isaiah 7:14. Nevertheless, other evidence must be given a hearing.

The LXX renders the word by parthenos (GK 4221), which almost always means “virgin.” Yet even with this word there are exceptions. Genesis 34:3 refers to Dinah as a parthenos, even though the previous verse makes it clear she is no longer a virgin. This sort of datum prompts Dodd (“New Testament Translation Problems I,” 301–5) to suggest that parthenos means “young woman” even in Matthew 1:23 and Luke 1:27. This will not do; the overwhelming majority of the occurrences of parthenos in both biblical and profane Greek require the rendering “virgin”; and the unambiguous context of Matthew 1 (cf. vv.16, 18, 20, 25) puts Matthew’s intent beyond dispute, as Jean Carmignac (“The Meaning of parthenos in Luke 1.27: A reply to C. H. Dodd,” BT 28 [1977]: 327–30) was quick to point out. If, unlike the LXX, the later (second century AD) Greek renderings of the Hebrew text of Isaiah 7:14 prefer neanis (“young woman”) to parthenos (so Aq., Symm., Theod.), we may legitimately suspect a conscious effort by the Jewish translators to avoid the Christian interpretation of Isaiah 7:14.

The crucial question is how we are to understand Isaiah 7:14 in its relationship to Matthew 1:23. Of the many suggestions, six deserve mention.

1. David Hill, J. B. Taylor (Illustrated Bible Dictionary [ed. Douglas], 3:1625), and others support the argument of W. C. van Unnik (“Dominus Vobiscum,” in New Testament Essays [ed. A. J. B. Higgins; Manchester: Manchester Univ. Press, 1959], 270–305), who claimed Isaiah meant that a young woman named her child Immanuel as a tribute to God’s presence and deliverance and that the passage applies to Jesus because Immanuel fits his mission. This does not take the “sign” (Isa 7:11, 14) seriously; v.11 expects something spectacular. Nor does it adequately consider the time lapse (vv.15–17). Moreover, it assumes a casual link between Isaiah and Matthew.

2. Many others take Isaiah as saying that a young woman—a virgin at the time of the prophecy (Broadus; Blomberg, “Matthew,” in CNTUOT)—will bear a son and that before he reaches the age of discretion (perhaps less than two years from the time of the prophecy), Ahaz will be delivered from his enemies. Matthew, being an inspired writer, sees a later fulfillment in Jesus; and we must accept it on Matthew’s authority. W. S. LaSor thinks this provides canonical support for a sensus plenior (“fuller sense”) approach to Scripture (“The Sensus Plenior and Biblical Interpretation,” in Scripture, Tradition, and Interpretation [ed. W. W. Gasque and W. S. LaSor; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1978], 271–72). In addition to several deficiencies in interpreting Isaiah 7:14–17 (e.g., the supernaturalness of the sign in 7:11 is not continued in 7:14), this position is intrinsically unstable, seeking either a deeper connection between Isaiah and Matthew or less reliance on Matthew’s authority. Hendriksen, 140, holds that the destruction of Pekah and Rezin was a clear sign that the line of the Messiah was being protected. But this is to postulate, without textual warrant, two signs—the sign of the child and the sign of the deliverance—and it presupposes that Ahaz possessed remarkable theological acumen in recognizing the latter sign.

3. Many (esp. older) commentators (e.g., Alexander; E. J. Young; Hengstenberg, Christology of the Old Testament) reject any notion of double fulfillment and say that Isaiah 7:14 refers exclusively to Jesus Christ. This does justice to the expectation of a miraculous sign, the significance of “Immanuel,” and the most likely meaning of ʿalmâ and parthenos. But it puts more strain on the relation of a sign to Ahaz. It seems weak to say that before a period of time equivalent to the length of time between Jesus’ (Immanuel’s) conception and his reaching an age of discretion, Ahaz’s enemies will be destroyed. Most commentators in this group insist on a miraculous element in “sign” (v.11). But though Immanuel’s birth is miraculous, how is the “sign” given Ahaz miraculous?

4. A few have argued (e.g., Gene Rice, “A Neglected Interpretation of the Immanuel Prophecy,” ZAW 90 [1978]: 220–27) that in Isaiah 7:14–17 Immanuel represents the righteous remnant—God is “with them”—and that the mother is Zion. This may be fairly applied to Jesus and Mary in Matthew 1:23, since Jesus’ personal history seems to recapitulate something of the Jews’ national history (cf. 2:15; 4:1–4). Yet this sounds contrived. Would Ahaz have understood the words so metaphorically? And though Jesus sometimes appears to recapitulate Israel, it is doubtful that NT writers ever thought that Mary recapitulates Zion.

5. R. Bruce Compton (cited above) has recently argued that Isaiah 7:13–14, with its collection of plural “you” expressions, is addressed not to Ahaz but to the entire nation, giving them reassurance that the Davidic line will prevail. By contrast, Isaiah 7:15, with its singular “you,” is addressed to Ahaz. It is not only the threat to the Davidic line that is at issue, but the threat to this specific Davidic king. To him the assurance is given that before the short period of time specified, Rezin and Pekah will be threats no more. In short, Compton envisages a prophecy in two parts. That may be, but it sounds like a way out of a difficulty rather than an obvious reading of the text.

6. The most plausible view is that of J. A. Motyer (“Context and Content in the Interpretation of Isaiah 7:14,” TynBul 21 [1970]: 118–25). It is a modified form of the third interpretation and depends in part on recognizing a crucial feature in Isaiah. Signs in the OT may function as a present persuader (e.g., Ex 4:8–9) or as future confirmation (e.g., Ex 3:12). Isaiah 7:14 falls in the latter case because Immanuel’s birth comes too late to be a “present persuader.” The “sign” (v.11) points primarily to threat and foreboding. Ahaz has rejected the Lord’s gracious offer (vv.10–12), and Isaiah responds in wrath (v.13). The “curds and honey” Immanuel will eat (v.15) represent the only food left in the land on the day of wrath (vv.18–22). Even the promise of Ephraim’s destruction (v.8) must be understood to embrace a warning (v.9b; Motyer, “Context and Content,” 121–22). Isaiah sees a threat, not simply to Ahaz, but to the “house of David” (vv.2, 13), which is caught up in faithlessness. To this faithless house Isaiah utters his prophecy. Therefore, Immanuel’s birth follows the coming events (it is a “future confirmation”) and will take place when the Davidic dynasty has lost the throne.

Motyer shows the close parallels between the prophetic word to Judah (Isa 7:1–9:7) and the prophetic word to Ephraim (9:8–11:16). To both comes the moment of decision as the Lord’s word threatens wrath (7:1–17; 9:8–10:4), the time of judgment mediated by the Assyrian invasion (7:18–8:8; 10:5–15), the destruction of God’s foes but the salvation of a remnant (8:9–22; 10:16–34), and the promise of a glorious hope as the Davidic monarch reigns and brings prosperity to his people (9:1–7; 11:1–16). The twofold structure argues for the cohesive unity between the prophecy of Judah and that to Ephraim. If this is correct, Isaiah 7:1–9:7 must be read as a unit—i.e., 7:14 must not be treated in isolation. The promised Immanuel (7:14) will thwart all opponents (8:10) and appear in Galilee of the Gentiles (9:1) as a great light to those in the land of the shadow of death (9:2). He is the Child and Son called “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” in 9:6, whose government and peace will never end as he reigns on David’s throne forever (9:7).

Much of Motyer’s work is confirmed by an article by Joseph Jensen (“The Age of Immanuel,” CBQ 41 [1979]: 220–39; he does not refer to Motyer), who extends the plausibility of this structure by showing that Isaiah 7:15 should be taken in a final sense; i.e., Immanuel will eat the bread of affliction in order to learn (unlike Ahaz!) the lesson of obedience. There is no reference to “age of discretion.” Further, Jensen believes that Isaiah 7:16–25 points to Immanuel’s coming only after the destruction of the land (6:9–13 suggests the destruction extends to Judah as well as to Israel); that Immanuel and Maher-Shalal-Hash-Baz, Isaiah’s son (8:1), are not the same; and that only Isaiah’s son sets a time limit relevant to Ahaz.

If Motyer’s view fairly represents Isaiah’s thought, and if Matthew understood him in this way, then much light is shed on the first gospel. The Immanuel figure of Isaiah 7:14 is a messianic figure, a point Matthew has rightly grasped. Moreover this interpretation turns on an understanding of the place of the exile in Isaiah 6–12, and Matthew has divided up his genealogy (1:11–12, 17) precisely in order to draw attention to the exile. In 2:17–18 the theme of the exile returns. A little later, as Jesus begins his ministry (4:12–16), Matthew quotes Isaiah 9:1–2, which, if the interpretation adopted here is correct, properly belongs to the Immanuel prophecies of Isaiah 7:14; 9:6. Small wonder that after such comments by Matthew, Jesus’ next words announced the kingdom (4:17; cf. Isa 9:7). Isaiah’s reference to Immanuel’s affliction for the sake of learning obedience anticipates Jesus’ humiliation, suffering, and obedient sonship, a recurring theme in this gospel.

This interpretation also partially explains Matthew’s interest in the Davidic lineage, and it strengthens a strong interpretation of “Immanuel.” Most scholars (e.g., Bonnard) suppose that this name in Isaiah reflects a hope that God would make himself present with his people (“Immanuel” derives from ʿimmānû ʾēl, “God with us”), and they apply the name to Jesus in a similar way, to mean that God is with us, and for us, because of Jesus. But if Immanuel in Isaiah is a messianic figure whose titles include “Mighty God,” there is reason to think that “Immanuel” refers to Jesus himself, that he is “God with us.” Matthew’s use of the preposition “with” at the end of 1:23 favors this (see J. C. Fenton, “Matthew and the Divinity of Jesus: Three Questions Concerning Matthew 1:20–23,” in Studia Biblica 1978 [ed. Livingstone], 2:81). Though “Immanuel” is not a name in the sense that “Jesus” is Messiah’s name (1:21), in the OT Solomon was named “Jedidiah” (“Beloved of Yahweh,” 2Sa 12:25), even though he apparently was not called that. Similarly Immanuel is a “name” in the sense of title or description.

No greater blessing can be conceived than for God to dwell with his people (Isa 60:18–20; Eze 48:35; Rev 21:23). Jesus is the one called “God with us” (the designation evokes Jn 1:14, 18). As if that were not enough, Jesus promises just before his ascension to be with us to the end of the age (28:20; cf. 18:20), when he will return to share his messianic banquet with his people (25:10).

If “Immanuel” is rightly interpreted in this sense, then the question must be raised whether “Jesus” (1:21) should receive the same treatment. Does “Jesus” (“Yahweh saves”) mean Mary’s son merely brings Yahweh’s salvation, or is he himself in some sense the Yahweh who saves? If “Immanuel” entails the higher Christology, it is not implausible that Matthew sees the same in “Jesus.” The least we can say is that Matthew does not hesitate to apply OT passages descriptive of Yahweh directly to Jesus (see

Matthew’s quotation of Isaiah 7:14 is very close to the LXX, but he changes “you will call” to “they will call.” This may reflect a rendering of the original Hebrew, if 1QIsa^a is pointed appropriately (cf. Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 90). But there is more here. The people whose sins Jesus forgives (1:21) are the ones who will gladly call him “God with us.”

24–25 When Joseph woke up, he “took Mary home as his wife” (v.24; same expression as in 1:20). Throughout chs. 1–2, the pattern of God’s sovereign intervention followed by Joseph’s or the Magi’s response is repeated. While the story is told simply, Joseph’s obedience and submission under these circumstances is scarcely less remarkable than Mary’s (Lk 1:38).

Matthew wants to make Jesus’ virginal conception quite unambiguous, for he adds that Joseph had no sexual union with Mary (lit., he did not “know” her, an OT euphemism) until she gave birth to Jesus (v.25). The “until” clause most naturally means that Mary and Joseph enjoyed normal conjugal relations after Jesus’ birth (see

So the virgin-conceived Immanuel was born. And eight days later, when the time came for him to be circumcised (Lk 2:21), Joseph named him “Jesus.”

NOTES

18 Some MSS have γέννησις (gennēsis, “birth,” GK 1167) instead of γένεσις (genesis, “birth,” “origin,” or “history,” GK 1161). The two words are easily confused both orthographically and, in early pronunciation systems, phonetically. The former word is common in the Fathers to refer to the Nativity and is cognate with γεννάω (gennaō, “I beget”); so it is transcriptionally less likely to be original.

The δέ (de, “but”) beginning the verse is doubtless a mild adversative. All the preceding generations have been listed, “but” the birth of Jesus comes into a class of its own.

Οὓτως (houtōs, “thus”) with the verb ἦν (ēn, “was”) is rare and is here equivalent to τοιαύτη (toiautē, “in this way”; cf. BDF, para. 434 [2]).

“Holy Spirit” is anarthrous, which is not uncommon in the Gospels; and in that case the word order is always πνεῦμα ἃγιον (pneuma hagion). When the article is used, there is an approximately even distribution between τὸ ἃγιον πνεῦμα (to hagion pneuma, “the Holy Spirit”) and τὸ πνεῦμα τὸ ἃγιον (to pneuma to hagion, “the Spirit the Holy”); cf. Moule, Idiom Book, 113.

19 In δίκαιος ὤν καὶ μὴ θέλων (dikaios ōn kai mē thelōn, lit., “being just and not willing”; NIV, “a righteous man and did not want”), it does not seem possible to take the first participle concessively (i.e., “although a righteous man”) because of the kai. The two participles should be taken as coordinate.

20 ᾽Ιδού (idou, “behold”) appears for the first of sixty-two times in Matthew. It often introduces surprising action (Schlatter) or serves to arouse interest (Hendriksen), but it is so common it seems sometimes to have no force at all (cf. Moulton, Grammar: Prolegomena, 11; E. J. Pryke, “ΙΔΕ and ΙΔΟΥ,” NTS 14 [1968]: 418–24).

21 The noun ἁμαρτία (hamartia, “sin,” GK 281) occurs at 3:6; 9:2, 5–6; 12:31; 26:38; ἁμαρτάνω (hamartanō, “I sin,” GK 279) is found at 18:15, 21; 27:4; and ἁμαρτωλός (hamartōlos, “sinner,” GK 283) at 9:10–11, 13; 11:19; 26:45.

22 Contrary to Moule (Idiom Book, 142), the ἵνα (hina, “in order to” or “with the result that”) clause is not ecbatic (consecutive). Although in NT Greek, ἵνα, hina, is not always telic, the very idea of fulfillment presupposes an overarching plan; and if there be such a plan, it is difficult to imagine Matthew saying no more than that such and such took place with the result that the Scriptures were fulfilled, unless the Mind behind the plan has no power to effect it—which is clearly contrary to Matthew’s thought. See

OVERVIEW

Few passages have received more diverse interpretations than this one (cf. W. A. Schulze, “Zur Geschichte der Auslegung von Matth. 2:1–12,” TZ 31 [1975]: 150–60; M. Hengel and H. Merkel, “Die Magier aus dem Osten und die Flucht nach Ägypten (Mt 2) im Rahmen der antiken Religionsgeschichte und der Theologie des Matthäus,” in Orientierung an Jesus [ed. Hoffmann et al.], 139–69). During the last hundred years or so, such diversity has sometimes sprung from a reluctance to accept either the supernatural details or the entire story as historically true. Thus it becomes necessary to find a theological motive for creating the pericope. E. Nellessen (Das Kind und seine Mutter [Stuttgart: KBW, 1969]), though acute in his theological observations, maintains the evangelist has fused and improved two Palestinian (and probably Galilean) legends (similarly Soares-Prabhu, Formula Quotations, 261–93).

Many (e.g., Gundry, Hill, Schweizer) suppose that the OT quotations constituted a collection of testimonia to Jesus in their own right before Matthew (or the church from which he sprang) embellished them with midrashic stories to produce our Matthew 2. The stories have doubtful ties with history. For many, the historicity of these accounts must simply remain an open question (e.g., Harrington), but in any case their real point is theological—to show that the Messiah was born in Bethlehem as predicted and that his appearance provoked Jewish hostility but won Gentile acceptance (the Magi), and, above all, to set up a contrast between Moses and Jesus.

Jewish tradition is steeped in stories about Pharaoh’s astrologers knowing that the mother of Israel’s future deliverer was pregnant, that there was a slaughter (by drowning) of all Jewish and Egyptian infants for the next nine months, that the entire house in which Moses was born was filled with great light, etc. Matthew, therefore, may have been trying to show Jesus’ significance by ascribing to his birth similar and perhaps greater effects. Full-blown, these stories about Moses are preserved in Midrash Rabbah on Exodus 1, an eighth-century AD compilation. Their roots, however, stretch at least as far back as the first century (Josephus, Ant. 2.205–7, 15–16 [9.2–3]; cf. Tg. Yer. I on Ex 1:15; see Davies, Setting, for other veiled hints to Moses in Mt 1–2).

This reconstruction has numerous weaknesses. The independent existence of collected testimonia is not certain. There is no evidence of Midrashim written on such a diverse collection of texts (if the collection itself ever existed). The presupposed antithesis between theology and history is false; on the face of it, Matthew records history so as to bring out its theological significance and its relation to Scripture. Matthew writes at so early a time that if Jesus had not been born in Bethlehem this claim would have been challenged. We are dealing with decades, not the millennium and a half separating Moses from Josephus.

First-century stories about astrological deductions connected with Augustus Caesar’s birth (Suetonius, Aug. 2.94) or about Moses’ birth (above) may suggest to some that Matthew 2:1–12 was fabricated; but they may equally attest the prevalence of astrology and the fact that some such visits undoubtedly occurred in the ancient world. Thus they would establish the verisimilitude of the passage. More important, the stories about Moses’ birth (e.g., in Josephus) were almost certainly regarded by most readers as factually true; and there can be little doubt (contra Gundry) that Matthew intends his stories about Jesus to be read the same way. If so, we may conceivably argue that Matthew was himself deceived or else wished to deceive. What we cannot do is argue that he wrote in a fashion recognized by its form to be divorced from historical reality. In any case, the suggested backdrop—stories about Moses’ birth—is not very apt. Close study shows the theological matrix of the prologue centering on Jesus as the Davidic King and Son of God (cf. Kingsbury; Nolan, Royal Son of God), not on him as the new Moses, to whom the allusions are few and inexplicit.

Of course, Matthew did not just chronicle meaningless events. He wrote to develop his theme of fulfillment of Scripture (Had not God promised that nations would be drawn to Messiah’s light [Isa 60:3]?); to establish God’s providential and supernatural care of this virgin-born Son; to anticipate the hostilities, resentment, and suffering he would face; and to hint at the fact that Gentiles would be drawn into his reign (cf. Isa 60:3; Nellessen, Das Kind, 120, acutely compares Mt 8:11–12; cf. 28:16–20). The Magi will be like the men of Nineveh who will rise up in judgment and condemn those who, despite their privilege of much greater light, did not receive the promised Messiah and bow to his reign (12:41–42).

1After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem 2and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him.”

3When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. 4When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Christ was to be born. 5“In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written:

6“‘But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,

are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;

for out of you will come a ruler

who will be the shepherd of my people Israel.’”

7Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. 8He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and make a careful search for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”

9After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. 10When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. 11On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh. 12And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route.

COMMENTARY

1 Bethlehem, the place near where Jacob buried his Rachel (Ge 35:19) and Ruth met Boaz (Ru 1:22–2:6), was preeminently the town where David was born and reared. For Christians, it has become the place where angel hosts broke the silence and announced Messiah’s birth (Lk 2). It is distinguished from the Bethlehem in Zebulun (Jos 19:15) by the words “in Judea.” Scholars have seen in these two words a preparation for v.6—“Bethlehem, in the land of Judah” (though there the Hebrew form “Judah” is used rather than the Greek “Judea”)—or for v.2, “king of the Jews.” But “Bethlehem in Judea” may not be much more than a stereotyped phrase (cf. Jdg 17:7, 9; 19:1–20; Ru 1:1–2; 1Sa 17:12; Mt 2:5). Luke 2:39 makes no mention of an extended stay in Bethlehem and a trip to Egypt before the return to Nazareth; if he knew of these events, Luke found them irrelevant to his purpose.

Unlike Luke, Matthew offers no description of Jesus’ birth or the shepherds’ visit. He specifies the time of Jesus’ birth as having occurred during King Herod’s reign (so also Lk 1:5). Herod the Great, as he is now called, was born in 73 BC and was named king of Judea by the Roman senate in 40 BC. By 37 BC, he had crushed, with the help of Roman forces, all opposition to his rule. Son of the Idumean Antipater, he was wealthy, politically gifted, intensely loyal, an excellent administrator, and clever enough to remain in the good graces of successive Roman emperors. His famine relief was superb and his building projects (including the temple, begun in 20 BC) admired even by his foes. But he loved power, inflicted incredibly heavy taxes on the people, and resented the fact that many Jews considered him a usurper. In his last years, suffering an illness that compounded his paranoia, he turned to cruelty and in fits of rage and jealousy killed close associates, his wife Mariamne (of Jewish descent from the Maccabeans), and at least two of his sons (see Josephus, Ant. 14–18; S. Perowne, The Life and Times of Herod the Great [London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1956]; and esp. Abraham Schalit, König Herodes: Der Mann und sein Werk [Berlin: de Gruyter, 1969]).

Traditionally, some have argued that Herod died in 4 BC; so Jesus must have been born before that. Josephus (Ant. 17.167 [6.4]) mentions an eclipse of the moon shortly before Herod’s death, and this has normally been identified as having occurred on 12–13 March 4 BC. After Herod’s death there was a Passover celebration (Josephus, J.W. 2.10 [1.3]; Ant. 17.213 [9.3]), presumably 11 April 4 BC; so the date of his death at first glance seems secure. However, Ernest L. Martin (The Birth of Christ Recalculated! [Pasadena, Calif.: FBR, 1978], 22–49) has advanced solid reasons for thinking the eclipse occurred 10 January 1 BC, and, integrating this information with his interpretation of other relevant data, Martin proposes a birth date for Jesus in September, 2 BC. (His detailed pinpointing of 1 Sept., based on his understanding of Rev 12:1–5, is too speculative to be considered.) Several lines of evidence stand against this thesis: Josephus (Ant. 17.191 [8.1]; J.W. 1.665 [33.8]) dates the length of Herod’s reign as thirty-seven years from his accession or thirty-four from the time of his effective reign, and these favor a death date in 4 BC. Coins dated at the time of 4 BC, minted under the reign of Herod’s sons, support the traditional date.

Martin answers these objections by supposing that Herod’s successors antedated their reigns to 4 BC in honor of Herod’s sons Alexander and Aristobulus, whom he had killed in that year, and by arguing that between 4 BC and 1 BC there was some form of joint rule shared by Herod and his son Antipater. In that case, Josephus’s figures relating to the length of Herod’s rule refer to his unshared reign. This is psychologically unconvincing. The man who murdered two of his sons out of paranoia and jealousy and arranged to have hundreds of Jewish leaders executed on the day of his death was not likely to share his authority, even in a merely formal way. The question remains unresolved. For a more traditional dating of Jesus’ birth in late 5 BC or early 4 BC, see Hoehner, Chronological Aspects, 11–27 (written before Martin’s work).

The “Magi” (magoi, GK 3407) are not easily identified with precision. Several centuries earlier, the term was used for a priestly caste of Medes who enjoyed special power to interpret dreams. Daniel (Da 1:20; 2:2; 4:7; 5:7) refers to magoi in the Babylonian Empire. In later centuries down to NT times, the term loosely covered a wide variety of men interested in dreams, astrology, magic, books thought to contain mysterious references to the future, and the like. Some Magi honestly inquired after truth; many were rogues and charlatans (e.g., Ac 8:9; 13:6, 8; cf. Brown, Birth of the Messiah, 167–68, 197–200; TDNT, 4:356–59). Apparently these men came to Bethlehem spurred on by astrological calculations. But they had probably built up their expectation of a kingly figure by working through assorted Jewish books (cf. W. M. Ramsey, The Bearing of Recent Discovery on the Trustworthiness of the New Testament [4th ed.; London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1920], 140–49).

The tradition that the Magi were kings can be traced as far back as Tertullian (d. ca. 225). It probably developed under the influence of OT passages that say kings will come and worship Messiah (cf. Pss 68:29, 31; 72:10–11; Isa 49:7; 60:1–6). The theory that there were three “wise men” is probably a deduction from the three gifts (2:11). By the end of the sixth century, the wise men were named: Melkon (later Melchior), Balthasar, and Gasper. Matthew gives no names. His magoi come to Jerusalem (which, like Bethlehem, has strong Davidic connections [2Sa 5:5–9]), arriving, apparently (see Notes), from the east—possibly from Babylon, where a sizable Jewish settlement wielded considerable influence, but possibly from Persia or from the Arabian desert. The more distant Babylon may be supported by the travel time apparently required (see

2 The Magi saw a star “when it rose” (NIV text note; see Notes, vv.1–2). What they saw remains uncertain.

1. The German astronomer Johannes Kepler (d. 1630) pointed out that in the Roman year AUC 747 (7 BC), there occurred a conjunction of the planets Jupiter and Saturn in the zodiacal constellation of Pisces, a sign sometimes connected in ancient astrology with the Hebrews. Many details can be fitted to this suggestion (cf. Brown, Birth of the Messiah, 172–73; NIDNTT, 3:735), not least that medieval Jews saw messianic significance in the same planetary conjunction. Moreover, the conjunction occurred in May, October, and November of 7 BC, and one of the latter two appearances could account for 2:9. But there is no solid evidence that the ancients referred to such conjunctions as “stars”; and even at their closest proximity, Jupiter and Saturn would have been about one degree apart—a perceived distance about twice the diameter of the moon—and therefore never fused into one image.

2. Michael Molnar (The Star of Bethlehem: The Legacy of the Magi [Piscataway, N.J.: Rutgers Univ. Press, 1999]) suggests that twice in 6 BC the moon comes in front of Jupiter, totally obscuring it (a lunar “occultation” of Jupiter), and that astrologically this indicates a royal birth. He then makes other connections to tie this to the birth to Judah. The problem is that these occultations were not visible in Babylon (the most likely provenance of the Magi) since Jupiter at that time of year was below the horizon. Molnar acknowledges the point, but thinks the Magi might nevertheless have calculated the occultation without witnessing it. Matthew, however, stipulates that the Magi “saw” the star (v.2). Moreover, Molnar’s theory does not align well with v.9 (see below).

3. Kepler himself preferred the suggestion that this was a supernova—a faint star that violently explodes and gives off enormous amounts of light for a few weeks or months. A recent defense of this view is that of Mark Kidger (The Star of Bethlehem: An Astronomer’s View [Princeton, N.J.: Princeton Univ. Press, 1999]), who argues for a nova in 5 BC, preceded by three precursors (e.g., a triple conduction of Saturn and Jupiter in Pisces in 7 BC). There is little confirming evidence, and it is difficult on this theory to account for 2:9.

4. Others have suggested comets, what some older writers refer to as “variable stars.” The most likely is Halley’s Comet (cf. Lagrange), which passed overhead in 12 BC; but this seems impossibly early.

5. Ernest L. Martin opts for a number of planetary conjunctions and massings in 3/2 BC. This suggestion depends on his entire reconstruction and late date for Herod’s death (see

6. In the light of 2:9, many commentators insist that astronomical considerations are a waste of time: Matthew presents the “star” as strictly supernatural. This, too, is possible and obviously impossible to falsify, but v.9 is not as determinative as is often suggested (see

7. Because it is difficult to imagine a “star” of any conceivable astronomical variety guiding the Magi along the road to Bethlehem, Allison (Studies in Matthew, 17–41) suggests that the “star” is actually a guiding angel. It is easy to list many texts in which stars and angels are linked; it is more difficult to find convincing parallels in which a star simply represents an angel. Moreover, the difficulty many find with v.9 is not nearly as great as some have thought (see

The evidence is insufficient to come down firmly on one particular astronomical theory.

Matthew uses language almost certainly alluding to Numbers 24:17: “A star will come out of Jacob; a scepter will rise out of Israel.” This oracle, spoken by Balaam, who came “from the eastern mountains” (Nu 23:7), was widely regarded as messianic (Tg. Ps.-J.; Tg. Onq.; CD 7:19–20; 1QM 11:6; 1QSb 5:27; 4QTest 12–13; T. Jud. 24:1). Both Matthew and Numbers deal with the king of Israel (Nu 24:7), though Matthew does not resort to the uncontrolled allegorizing on “star” frequently found in early postapostolic Christian writings (cf. Jean Danielou, The Theology of Jewish Christianity [London: Darton, Longman, 1964], 214–24).

Granting Matthew’s informed devotion to the OT, he surely knew that the OT mocks astrologers (Isa 47:13–15; Da 1:20; 2:27; 4:7; 5:7) and forbids astrology (Jer 10:1–2). Nevertheless, it was widely practiced in the first century, even among Jews (cf. Albright and Mann). Matthew neither condemns nor sanctions it; instead, he contrasts the eagerness of the Magi to worship Jesus, despite their limited knowledge, with the apathy of the Jewish leaders and the hostility of Herod’s court—all of whom had the Scriptures to inform them. Formal knowledge of the Scriptures, Matthew implies, does not in itself lead to knowing who Jesus is. Just as God sovereignly worked through Caesar’s decree that a census be taken (Lk 2:1) to ensure that Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem would fulfill prophecy, so God sovereignly used the Magi’s calculations to bring about the situation this pericope describes.

The question the Magi asked does not tell how their astrology led them to seek a “king of the Jews” and what made them think this particular star was “his.” The widely held idea that the ancient world was looking for a Jewish leader of renown (based largely on Josephus, J.W. 6.312–13 [5.4]; Suetonius, Vesp. 4; Tacitus, Hist. v.13; Virgil, Ecl. 4) cannot stand close scrutiny. The Josephus passage refers to Jewish expectations of Messiah, and the others probably borrowed from Josephus. The Magi may have linked the star to “the king of the Jews” through studying the OT and other Jewish writings—a possibility made plausible by the presence of the large Jewish community in Babylon.

We must not think that the Magi’s question meant, Where is the one born to become king of the Jews? but, Where is the one born king of the Jews? (see Notes). His kingly status was not conferred on him later on; it was his from birth. Jesus’ participation in the Davidic dynasty has already been established by the genealogy. The same title the Magi gave him found its place over the cross (27:37).

“Worship” (see Notes) need not imply that the Magi recognized Jesus’ divinity; it may simply mean “do homage” (Broadus). Their own statement suggests homage paid royalty rather than the worship of Deity. But Matthew, having already told of the virginal conception, doubtless expected his readers to discern something more—namely, that the Magi “worshiped” better than they knew.

3 In contrast with (de, a mild adversative; NIV, “when”) the Magi’s desire to worship the King of the Jews, Herod is deeply troubled. In this, “all Jerusalem” joins him, not because most of the people would have been sorry to see Herod replaced or because they were reluctant to see the coming of King Messiah, but because they well knew that any question, such as the Magi’s, would result in more cruelty from the ailing Herod, whose paranoia had led him to murder his favorite wife and two sons.

4 Here “all” modifies “chief priests and teachers of the law,” not “the people,” and refers to those who were living in Jerusalem and could be quickly consulted. “Chief priests” refers to the hierarchy, made up of the current high priest and any who had formerly occupied this post (since Herod, contrary to the law, made fairly frequent changes in the high priesthood), and a substantial number of other leading priests (cf. Josephus, Ant. 20.180 [8.8]; J.W. 4.159–60 [3.9]; the same Greek word (archiereus) is used for “high priests” and “chief priests”). The “teachers of the law,” or “scribes” as other EV call them, were experts in the OT and in its copious oral tradition. Their work was not so much copying out OT manuscripts (as the word “scribes” suggests) as teaching the OT. Because much civil law was based on the OT and the interpretations of the OT fostered by the leaders, the “scribes” were also “lawyers” (cf. 22:35: “expert in the law”).

Several generations that descended from Herod the Great walk across the pages of the New Testament. Those mentioned are in capital letters, together with the relevant passages in Scripture.

Used by permission of Zondervan.

The vast majority of the scribes were Pharisees; the priests were Sadducees. The two groups barely got along, and therefore Schweizer judges this verse “historically almost inconceivable.” But Matthew does not say the two groups came together at the same time; Herod, unloved by either group, may well have called both to guard against being tricked. If the Pharisees and Sadducees barely spoke to one another, there was less likelihood of collusion. “He asked them” (epynthaneto, GK 4785; the imperfect tense sometimes connotes tentative requests [Herod may have expected the rebuff of silence]; cf. Turner, Grammatical Insights, 27) where the Christ (here a title; see

5 The Jewish leaders answered the question by referring to what stands written, which is the force of the perfect passive verb gegraptai (NIV, “has written,” GK 1211), suggesting the authoritative and regulative force of the document referred to (cf. Deissmann, Bible Studies, 112–14, 249–50). The NIV misses the preposition dia (lit., “what stands written through the prophet”), which implies that the prophet is not the ultimate source of what stands written (see

6 While expectation that the Messiah must come from Bethlehem occurs elsewhere (e.g., Jn 7:42; cf. Targum on Mic 5:1: “Out of you shall come forth before me the Messiah”), here it rests on Micah 5:2 (1 MT), to which are appended some words from 2 Samuel 5:2 (1Ch 11:2). Matthew follows neither the MT nor LXX, and his changes have provoked considerable speculation.

1. “Bethlehem Ephrathah” (LXX, “house of Ephrathah”) becomes “Bethlehem, in the land of Judah.” Hill says this change was made to exclude “any other Judean city like Jerusalem.” But this reads too much into what is a normal LXX way of referring to Bethlehem (cf. Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 91). “Ephrathah” is archaic and even in the MT primarily restricted to poetical sections like Micah 5:2.

2. The strong negative “by no means” (oudamōs) is added in Matthew and formally contradicts Micah 5:2. It is often argued that this change has been made to highlight Bethlehem as the birthplace of the Messiah. Indeed, Gundry’s commentary uses this change as an example of Matthew’s midrashic use of the OT, a use so free that he does not fear outright contradiction. There are better explanations. Even the MT of Micah implies Bethlehem’s greatness: “though you are small among the clans [or rulers, who personify the cities; the KJV’s “thousands” is pedantically correct, but “thousands” was a way of referring to the great clans into which the tribes were subdivided; cf. Jdg 6:15; 1Sa 10:19; 23:23; Isa 60:22] of Judah” sets the stage for the greatness that follows. Equally, Matthew’s formulation assumes that, apart from being Messiah’s birthplace, Bethlehem is indeed of little importance (cf. Hengstenberg, Christology of the Old Testament, 1:475–76, noted by Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 91–92). To put it another way, though the second line of Micah 5:2 formally contradicts the second line of Matthew 2:6, a holistic reading of the verses shows the contradiction to be merely formal. Matthew 2:6 has perhaps slightly greater emphasis on the one factor that makes Bethlehem great.

3. Matthew adds the shepherd language of 2 Samuel 5:2, making it plain that the ruler in Micah 5:2 is none other than the one who fulfills the promises to David.

It is tempting to think that Matthew sees a pair of contrasts (1) between the false shepherds of Israel who have provided sound answers but no leadership (cf. 23:2–7) and Jesus, who is the true Shepherd of his people Israel, and (2) between a ruler like Herod and the one born to rule. The words “my people Israel” are included, not simply because they are found in 2 Samuel 5:2, but because Matthew, like Paul, faithfully records both the essential Jewish focus of the OT promises and the OT expectation of broader application to the Gentiles (see

As far as we can tell, the Sadducees (and therefore the chief priests) had no interest in the question of when the Messiah would come; the Pharisees (and therefore most teachers of the law) expected him to come only somewhat later. The Essenes alone, who were not consulted by Herod, expected the Messiah imminently (cf. R. T. Beckwith, “The Significance of the Calendar for Interpreting Essene Chronology and Eschatology,” RevQ 38 [1980]: 167–202). But Matthew plainly says that, though Jesus was the Messiah, born in David’s line and certain to be Shepherd and Ruler of Israel, it was the Gentiles who came to worship him.

7–10 The reason Herod wanted to learn, at his secret meeting with the Magi (v.7), the exact time the star appeared was that he had already schemed to kill the small boys of Bethlehem (see v.16). The entire story hangs together (see

Matthew does not say that the rising star the Magi had seen (see

11 This verse plainly alludes to Psalm 72:10–11 and Isaiah 60:6, passages that reinforce the emphasis on the Gentiles (see

Bringing gifts was particularly important in the ancient East when approaching a superior (cf. Ge 43:11; 1Sa 9:7–8; 1Ki 10:2). Usually such gifts were reciprocated (Derrett, Studies in the New Testament, 2:28). That is not mentioned here, but a first-century reader might have assumed it and seen the Great Commission (28:18–20) as leading to its abundant fruition. Frankincense is a glittering, odorous gum obtained by making incisions in the bark of several trees; myrrh exudes from a tree found in Arabia and a few other places and was a much-valued spice and perfume (Ps 45:8; SS 3:6) used in embalming (Jn 19:39). Commentators, ancient (Origen, Cels. 1.60) and modern (Hendriksen), have found symbolic value in the three gifts—gold suggesting royalty, incense divinity, and myrrh the passion and burial. This interpretation demands too much insight from the Magi. The three gifts were simply expensive and not uncommon presents and may have helped finance the trip to Egypt. The word “treasures” probably means “coffers” or “treasure boxes” in this context.

12 This second dream (cf. 1:20) mentions no angel. Perhaps Joseph and the Magi compared notes and saw their danger (cf. P. Gaechter, “Die Magierperikope,” ZKT 90 [1968]: 257–95). Amid their fear and uncertainty, the dreams led them (vv.12–13) to flee. Which way the Magi went is unclear; they might have gone around the north end of the Dead Sea, avoiding Jerusalem, or they might have gone around the south end of the sea.

NOTES

1–2 The word ἀνατολή (anatolē, GK 424) can mean “rising” or “east.” In v.1, ἀπὸ ἀνατολῶν (apo anatolōn, “from the east”) is rightly translated by the NIV, since the noun normally indicates the point of the compass when it is plural and anarthrous (cf. BDF, 253 [5]). By the same token ἐν τῇ ἀνατολῇ (en tē anatolē) in vv.2, 9 is less likely to be “in the East” than “at its rising” (the article can have mild possessive force). Other suggestions—e.g., that the expression refers to a particular land in the east or to Anatolia in the west—seem less convincing; but the question is extraordinarily complex (see Turner, Grammatical Insights, 25–26; Brown, Birth of the Messiah, 173).

2 The participle in the construction ὁ τεχθεὶς βασιλεύς (ho techtheis basileus, lit., “the born king”) is adjectival, not substantival, and is used attributively. Moreover, there is no suggestion of “newborn” (cf. C. Burchard, “Fussnoten zum neutestamentlichen Griechisch II,” ZNW 29 [1978]: 143–57), which is already ruled out by chronological notes (vv.7, 16).

The verb προσκυνέω (proskyneō, “worship,” GK 4686) occurs three times in this pericope (cf. vv.8, 11) and ten other times in Matthew. In the NT, the object of this “worship” is almost always God or Jesus, except where someone is acting ignorantly and is rebuked (Ac 10:25–26; Rev 19:10; 22:8–9). But Revelation 3:9 is an important exception (NIV, “fall down at your feet”). Secular Greek used the verb for a wide variety of levels of obeisance, and it is precarious to build too much Christology on the use of the term in the Gospels.

3 The words πᾶσα ῾Ιεροσόλυμα (pasa Hierosolyma, “all Jerusalem”) betray breach of concord, since pasa is feminine, but this form of “Jerusalem,” unlike the alternative ᾽Ιερουσαλήμ (Ierousalēm), is not feminine but neuter plural. Possibly πᾶσα, pasa, is a precursor of modern Greek’s indeclinable πᾶσα, pasa (so BDF, para. 56 [4]); but it is marginally more likely that the noun is being treated as feminine singular since there are other instances where it is construed as feminine singular even though no πᾶσα, pasa, is present.

5–6 Matthew uses the singular προφήτου (prophētou, “prophet,” GK 4737) even though two different passages, from the Latter and Former Prophets respectively, are cited. Yet it seems a common practice to refer to one author, perhaps the principal one, when citing two or three (cf. 27:9–10; Mk 1:2–3).

7 Τότε (tote, “then”) is very common in Matthew, occurring ninety times as compared with Mark’s six and Luke’s fourteen; but in Matthean usage only occasionally does it have temporal force (as here), serving more frequently as a loose connective.

10 The words “they were overjoyed” render a cognate accusative, ἐχάρησαν χαράν (echarēsan charan, lit., “they rejoiced with joy”), probably under Semitic influence (cf. Moule, Idiom Book, 32; BDF, para. 153 [1]).

OVERVIEW

Many commentators think this account has been created to flesh out the OT text said to be “fulfilled” (v.15). On the broader critical questions, see

13When they had gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. “Get up,” he said, “take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.”

14So he got up, took the child and his mother during the night and left for Egypt, 15where he stayed until the death of Herod. And so was fulfilled what the Lord had said through the prophet: “Out of Egypt I called my son.”

COMMENTARY

13–14 The verb “had gone” (anachōrēsantōn) is the same as “returned” in the preceding verse, tying the two accounts together. This is the third dream in these two chapters, and for the second time an angel of the Lord is mentioned (cf. 1:20; 2:12). The point is that God took sovereign action to preserve his Messiah, his Son—something well understood by Jesus himself, and a major theme in the gospel of John. Egypt was a natural place to which to flee. It was nearby, a well-ordered Roman province outside Herod’s jurisdiction, and, according to Philo (writing ca. AD 40), its population included about a million Jews. Earlier generations of Israelites fleeing their homeland (1Ki 11:40; Jer 26:21–23; 43:7) had sought refuge in Egypt. But if Matthew was thinking of any particular OT parallel, probably Jacob and his family (Ge 46) fleeing the famine in Canaan was in his mind, since that is the trip that set the stage for the exodus (cf. v.15).

The angel’s command was explicit. Joseph, Mary, and the child must remain in Egypt not only until Herod’s death but until given leave to return (cf. vv.19–20). The command was also urgent. Joseph left at once, setting out by night to begin the seventy-five-mile journey to the border. The focus on God’s protection of “the child” is unmistakable. Herod was going to try to kill him (v.13), and Joseph took “the child and his mother” (v.14—not the normal order) to Egypt.

15 The death of Herod brought relief to many. Only then, for instance, did the Qumran covenanters return to their center, destroyed in 31 BC, and rebuild it. In Egypt, Herod’s death made possible the return of the child, Mary, and Joseph, who awaited a word from the Lord. The Greek could be rendered “And so was fulfilled” (NIV) or “[This came about] in order that the word of the Lord ... might be fulfilled.” Either way, the notion of fulfillment preserves some telic force in the sentence: Jesus’ exodus from Egypt fulfilled Scripture written long before.

The OT quotation almost certainly (see Notes) comes from Hosea 11:1 and exactly renders the Hebrew, not the LXX, which has “his children,” not “my son.” (In this Matthew agrees with Aq., Symm., and Theod., but only because all four rely on the Hebrew.) Some commentators (e.g., Bengel, Gnomon; Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 93–94) argue that the preposition ek (NIV, “out of”) should be taken temporally, i.e., “since Egypt” or, better, “from the time [he dwelt] in Egypt.” The preposition can have that force; and it is argued that Matthew 2:15 means God “called” Jesus, in the sense that he specially acknowledged and preserved him from the time of his Egyptian sojourn on, protecting him against Herod. After all, the exodus itself is not mentioned until vv.21–22.

Some commentators interpret the calling of Israel in Hosea 11:1 in a similar way. But there are convincing arguments against this. The context of Hosea 11:1 mentions Israel’s return to Egypt (11:5), which presupposes that 11:1 refers to the exodus. To preserve the temporal force of ek in Matthew 2:15, Gundry is reduced to the unconvincing assertion that the preposition in Hosea is both temporal and locative. In support of this view, it is pointed out that Jesus’ actual departure out of Egypt is not mentioned until v.21. But, although this is so, it is nevertheless implied by vv.13–14. The reason Matthew has introduced the Hosea quotation at this point, instead of after v.21, is probably that he wishes to use the return journey itself to set up the reference to the destination, Nazareth (v.23), rather than the starting point, Egypt (cf. Brown, Birth of the Messiah, 220).

If Hosea 11:1 refers to Israel’s exodus from Egypt, in what sense can Matthew mean that Jesus’ return to the land of Israel “fulfilled” this text? Four observations clarify the issue.

1. Many have noticed that Jesus is often presented in the NT as the antitype of Israel or, better, the typological recapitulation of Israel. Jesus’ temptation after forty days of fasting recapitulated the forty years’ trial of Israel (see

2. The verb “fulfill” has broader significance than mere one-to-one prediction (see Introduction, ;

3. It follows, therefore, that the NT writers do not think they are reading back into the OT things that are not already there germinally. This does not mean that Hosea had the Messiah in mind when he penned Hosea 11:1. This admission prompts W. L. LaSor (“Prophecy, Inspiration, and Sensus Plenior,” TynBul 29 [1978]: 49–60) to see in Matthew’s use of Hosea 11:1 an example of sensus plenior, by which he means a “fuller sense” than what was in Hosea’s mind but something nevertheless in the mind of God. But so blunt an appeal to what God has absolutely hidden seems a strange background for Matthew’s insisting that Jesus’ exodus from Egypt in any sense fulfills the Hosea passage. This observation is not trivial. Matthew is reasoning with Jews who could say, “You are not playing fair with the text!” A mediating position is therefore necessary.

Hosea 11 pictures God’s love for Israel. Although God threatens judgment and disaster, yet because he is God and not man (11:9), he looks to a time when in compassion he will roar like a lion and his children will return to him (11:10–11). In short Hosea himself looks forward to a saving visitation by the Lord. Therefore his prophecy fits into the larger pattern of OT revelation up to that point, revelation that both explicitly and implicitly points to the Seed of the woman, the Elect Son of Abraham, the Prophet like Moses, the Davidic King, the Messiah.

The “son” language is part of this messianic matrix (cf. Willis J. Beecher, The Prophets and the Promise [New York: Crowell, 1905], 331–35); insofar as that matrix points to Jesus the Messiah and insofar as Israel’s history looks forward to one who sums it up, then so far also does Hosea 11:1 look forward. To ask whether Hosea thought of Messiah is to ask the wrong question, akin to using a hacksaw when a scalpel is needed. It is better to say that Hosea, building on existing revelation, grasped the messianic nuances of the “son” language already applied to Israel and David’s promised heir in previous revelation so that had he been able to see Matthew’s use of 11:1, he would not have disapproved, even if messianic nuances were not in his mind when he wrote that verse. He provided one small part of the revelation unfolded during salvation history; but that part he himself understood to be a pictorial representative of divine, redeeming love.

The NT writers insist that the OT can be rightly interpreted only if the entire revelation is kept in perspective as it is historically unfolded (e.g., Gal 3:6–14). Hermeneutically, this is not an innovation. OT writers drew lessons out of earlier salvation history, lessons difficult to perceive while that history was being lived, but lessons that retrospect would clarify (e.g., Asaph in Ps 78; see

4. If this interpretation of v.15 is correct, it follows that for Matthew, Jesus himself is the locus of true Israel. This does not necessarily mean that God has no further purpose for racial Israel; but it does mean that the position of God’s people in the messianic age is determined by reference to Jesus, not race.

NOTES

13 The historical present φαίνεται (phainetai, lit., “appears”) adds a vivid touch.

15 Because “out of Egypt” occurs in Numbers 23:22; 24:8, some have suggested a connection between v.15 and Numbers 24:7–8 (e.g., Hill, Schweizer). In its strongest form, this argument depends on the LXX, which reads, “A man shall come forth from his seed,” instead of, “Water will flow from their buckets” (Nu 24:7), and “him” instead of “them” (Nu 24:8). This transforms Numbers 24:8 into a reference to God bringing Messiah out of Egypt. Apart from the textual question, it must be noted that (1) v.15 corresponds exactly with MT Hosea 11:1 but only approximately with LXX Numbers 24:8; (2) the LXX rendering makes Numbers 24 rather incoherent.

OVERVIEW

Few sections of Matthew 1–2 have been as widely criticized as this one. Most modern scholars think Matthew made the story up (e.g., Goulder, Midrash and Lection, 33; E. M. Smallwood, The Jews under Roman Rule [Leiden: Brill, 1976], 103–4), spinning it out of Jeremiah 31:15, cited in Matthew 2:18 (so C. T. Davis, “Tradition and Redaction in Matthew 1:18–2:23,” JBL 90 [1971]: 419). In this view, perhaps Matthew invented the tale to draw an analogy between Jesus and Moses or between Jesus and late Jewish traditions about Abraham or Jacob or out of an apologetic need to construct an initial sign of the impending judgment on Israel for rejecting her Messiah (Kingsbury, Structure, 48). But v.16 cannot be excised from the chapter without rewriting it all.

The OT citation in v.18, like other such citations in chs. 1–2, is itself not strictly necessary to the narrative. These citations illumine the narrative and show its relation to OT Scripture, but they do not create it (see

Actually, the story is in perfect harmony with what we know of Herod’s character in his last years (cf. Abraham Schalit, König Herodes [Berlin: de Gruyter, 1969], 648). That there is no extra-Christian confirmation is not surprising; the same can be said of Jesus’ crucifixion. The death of a few children (perhaps a dozen or so; Bethlehem’s total population was not large) would hardly have been recorded in such violent times. (See the excellent treatment by R. T. France, “Herod and the Children of Bethlehem,” NovT 21 [1979]: 98–120.) “Matthew is not simply meditating on Old Testament texts, but claiming that in what has happened they find fulfillment. If the events are legendary, the argument is futile” (p. 120).

16When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi. 17Then what was said through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled:

18“A voice is heard in Ramah,

weeping and great mourning,

Rachel weeping for her children

and refusing to be comforted,

because they are no more.”

COMMENTARY

16 It probably did not take long to carry out Herod’s barbarous order. Bethlehem is only five miles from Jerusalem. The Magi set out in the same evening (v.9) and may have left that same night after their dream (v.12); the same would be true of Joseph with Jesus and Mary (vv.13–15). By the next evening Herod’s patience would have been exhausted. The two-years-age limit was to prevent Jesus’ escape; at the time he was between six and twenty months old. Herod, aiming to eliminate a potential king, restricted the massacre to boys. Furious at being deceived (a better translation than “outwitted”), he raged against the Lord and his Anointed One (Ps 2:2). Yet this was no narrow escape. The One enthroned in heaven laughs and scoffs at the Herods of this world (Ps 2:4).

17–18 Jeremiah is named three times in Matthew (here; 16:14; 27:9) and nowhere else in the NT. The text form of this OT citation in these verses is complex but is probably Matthew’s rendering of the Hebrew (cf. Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 94–97; Brown, Birth of the Messiah, 221–23).

It is uncertain whether Jeremiah 31:15 refers to the deportation of the northern tribes by Assyria in 722–721 BC or to the deportation of Judah and Benjamin in 587–586 BC (cf. Brown, Birth of the Messiah, 205–6). The latter is more likely. Nebuzaradan, commander of Nebuchadnezzar’s imperial guard, gathered the captives at Ramah before taking them into exile in Babylon (Jer 40:1–2). Ramah lay north of Jerusalem on the way to Bethel; Rachel’s tomb was at Zelzah in the same vicinity (1Sa 10:2). Jeremiah 31:15 depicts mourning at the prospect of exile; Rachel is seen as crying out from her tomb because her “children,” her descendants (Rachel is the idealized mother of the Jews, though Leah gave birth to more tribes than Rachel), “are no more”—i.e., they are being removed from the land and are no longer a nation. But elsewhere we are told that Rachel was buried on the way to Ephrathah, identified as Bethlehem (Ge 35:19; 48:7). Some see a confusion of traditions here and assume that the clan of Ephrathah later settled in Bethlehem and gave it its name, thus starting a false connection Matthew follows. The problem, however, is artificial. Genesis 35:16 makes it clear that Jacob was some distance from Bethlehem-Ephrathah when Rachel died—somewhere between Bethel and Bethlehem (only 1Sa 10:2 says more exactly where he was). Moreover, Matthew does not say Rachel was buried at Bethlehem; the connection between the prophecy and its “fulfillment” is more subtle than that.

Why does Matthew refer to this OT passage? Some think the connection results from word association: the children were killed at Bethlehem, Bethlehem = Ephrathah, Ephrathah is connected with Rachel’s death, and Rachel figures in the oracle. Rothfuchs (Erfüllungszitate, 64) sees a parallel between the condemnation to exile as a result of sin (Jeremiah) and the judgment on Israel as a result of rejecting the Messiah (an interpretation that sees the slaughter at Bethlehem as a sign of the latter). More believable is the observation (Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 210; Tasker) that Jeremiah 31:15 occurs in a setting of hope. Despite the tears, God says, the exiles will return; and now Matthew, referring to Jeremiah 31:15, likewise says that, despite the tears of the Bethlehem mothers, there is hope because Messiah has escaped Herod and will ultimately reign. The further suggestion that the deep grief in Bethlehem reflected the belief that the Messiah had been massacred and news of his escape should assuage that grief (so Broadus) is fanciful.

There may be a further reason why Matthew quotes this OT passage, a reason discernible once the differences between Matthew and the OT are spelled out. Here Jesus does not, as in v.15, recapitulate an event from Israel’s history. The exile sent Israel into captivity and thereby called forth tears. But here the tears are not for him who goes into “exile” but because of the children who stay behind and are slaughtered. Why, then, refer to the exile at all? Help comes from observing the broader context of both Jeremiah and Matthew. Jeremiah 31:9, 20 refer to Israel = Ephraim as God’s dear son and also introduce the new covenant (31:31–34) the Lord will make with his people. Therefore the tears associated with exile (31:15) will end. Matthew has already made the exile a turning point in his thought (1:11–12), for at that time the Davidic line was dethroned. The tears of the exile are now being “fulfilled”—i.e., the tears begun in Jeremiah’s day are climaxed and ended by the tears of the mothers of Bethlehem. The heir to David’s throne has come, the exile is over, the true Son of God has arrived—and he will introduce the new covenant (26:28) promised by Jeremiah.

NOTES

16 “He gave orders to kill” is an excellent rendering of the “graphic participle” in ἀποστείλας ἀνεῖλεν (aposteilas aneilen, lit., “having sent, he killed”; cf. Zerwick, Biblical Greek, para. 363).

17 Only here and in 27:9 is the fulfillment formula devoid of a ἵνα (hina) or a ὅπως (hopōs), both of which normally have telic force (“in order that”), though consecutive force is not uncommon in NT Greek (see

18 The longer reading, reflected in the KJV (“lamentation and weeping and great mourning”), is most likely an assimilation to some LXX witnesses.

19After Herod died, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt 20and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel, for those who were trying to take the child’s life are dead.”

21So he got up, took the child and his mother and went to the land of Israel. 22But when he heard that Archelaus was reigning in Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. Having been warned in a dream, he withdrew to the district of Galilee, 23and he went and lived in a town called Nazareth. So was fulfilled what was said through the prophets: “He will be called a Nazarene.”

COMMENTARY

19–21 This fourth dream and third mention of the angel of the Lord continues the divine initiative in preserving and guiding the child, who is again made prominent (“the child and his mother,” v.20). On the date of Herod’s death, see

22 Probably Joseph had expected Herod Antipas to reign over the entire kingdom, but Herod the Great made a late change in his will, dividing his kingdom into three parts. Archelaus, known for his ruthlessness, was given Judea, Samaria, and Idumea (see map on

23 The town Joseph chose was Nazareth, which, according to Luke 1:26–27; 2:39, was his former home and that of Mary (cf. 13:53–58). This final quotation formula, like that of v.15, should probably be construed as telic: this took place “in order to fulfill.” But the formula is unique in two respects: only here does Matthew use the plural “prophets,” and only here does he omit the Greek equivalent of “saying” and replace it with the conjunction hoti, which can introduce a direct quotation (NIV) but more probably should be rendered “that,” making the quotation indirect: “in order to fulfill what was said through the prophets, that he would be called a Nazarene” (cf. W. Barnes Tatum Jr., “Matthew 2:23,” BT 27 [1976]: 135–37). This suggests that Matthew had no specific OT quotation in mind; indeed, these words are found nowhere in the OT.

The interpretation of this verse has such a long history (for older works, cf. Broadus; for recent studies, cf. Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 97–104; Brown, Birth of the Messiah, 207–13) that it is not possible to list here all the major options. We may exclude those that see some wordplay connection with an OT Hebrew word but have no obvious connection with Nazareth. This eliminates the popular interpretation that makes Jesus a Nazirite or second Samson (cf. esp. Jdg 13:5, 7; 16:17, where LXX has Naziraios as opposed to Matthew’s Nazōraios; cf. Lk 1:15). Defenders include Calvin, Loisy, Schweizer, and Ernst Zuckschwerdt (“Nazōraios in Matth. 2:23,” TZ 31 [1975]: 65–77). Also to be eliminated are interpretations that try to find in Matthew’s term a reference to some kind of pre-Christian sect. The evidence for this is feeble (cf. Soares-Prabhu, Formula Quotations, 197–201) and the connection with Nazareth merely verbal. E. Earle Ellis (“How the New Testament Uses the Old,” in New Testament Interpretation [ed. Marshall], 202) sees a pun here as an “implicit midrash,” but significantly he then has to put the word “fulfillment” in quotation marks.

Matthew certainly used Nazōraios as an adjectival form of apo Nazaret (“from Nazareth” or “Nazarene”), even though the more acceptable adjective is Nazarēnos (cf. Bonnard; Albright and Mann; Soares-Prabhu). Possibly Nazōraios derives from a Galilean Aramaic form. Nazareth was a despised place (Jn 7:42, 52), even to other Galileans (cf. Jn 1:46). Here Jesus grew up, not as “Jesus the Bethlehemite,” with its Davidic overtones, but as “Jesus the Nazarene,” with all the opprobrium of the sneer. When Christians were referred to in Acts as the “Nazarene sect” (24:5), the expression was meant to hurt. First-century Christian readers of Matthew, who had tasted their share of scorn, would have quickly caught Matthew’s point. He is not saying that a particular OT prophet foretold that the Messiah would live in Nazareth; he is saying that the OT prophets foretold that the Messiah would be despised (cf. Pss 22:6–8, 13; 69:8, 20–21; Isa 11:1; 49:7; 53:2–3, 8; Da 9:26). The theme is repeatedly picked up by Matthew (e.g., 8:20; 11:16–19; 15:7–8; see Turner). In other words Matthew gives us the substance of several OT passages, not a direct quotation (so also Ezr 9:10–12; cf. Str-B, 1:92–93).

It is possible that at the same time there is a discreet allusion to the nēṣer (“branch”) of Isaiah 11:1, which received a messianic interpretation in the Targums, rabbinic literature, and Dead Sea Scrolls (cf. Gundry, Use of the Old Testament, 104), for here, too, it is affirmed that David’s son would emerge from humble obscurity and low state. Jesus is King Messiah, Son of God, Son of David; but he was a branch from a royal line hacked down to a stump and reared in surroundings guaranteed to win him scorn. Jesus the Messiah, Matthew is telling us, did not introduce his kingdom with outward show or present himself with the pomp of an earthly monarch. In accord with prophecy, he came as the despised Servant of the Lord.

HOLY LAND IN THE TIME OF JESUS

NOTES

20 The participle of οἱ ζητοῦντες (hoi zētountes, lit., “those seeking”; NIV, “those who were trying”), quite apart from its being plural, does not, though a present tense, signify antecedent action but rather continued, persistent action; the context determines that temporally it is virtually an imperfect (cf. Turner, Syntax, 80–81; Moule, Idiom Book, 206; rightly, NIV).

22 It is uncertain whether the verb χρηματίζω (chrēmatizō, “warn,” GK 5976) includes the specification of Nazareth as Joseph’s proper destination, or whether he was merely “warned” not to remain in Judea, leaving to him the choice of town.

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