Matthew: A Great Light Dawns by Youthworks

Contents

Foreword vi Invitation vii Reading Matthew Today I

Matthew’s basic invitation

Reading Matthew Today II

How to use this commentary

1. Origins (Matthew 1–4)

2. Jesus calls for Israel of the last days (Matthew 5–7)

3. The works of the Messiah (Matthew 8–10)

4. Israel responds to their Messiah (Matthew 11–12)

110

5. The gospel of the kingdom separates people (Matthew 13:1–53)

132

6. Shepherds bad and good (Matthew 13:54—17:21)

152

7. Jesus moves towards his death (Matthew 17:22—20:34)

173

8. The kingdom draws nearer (Matthew 21:1—26:2)

200

9. The death and vindication of the Son of Man (Matthew 26:3—28:20)

231

Chapter 1

Origins (Matthew 1–4)

Since Matthew divides his account of Jesus Christ into blocks of ‘narrative’ and ‘discourse’, it is worth reflecting on how these two different kinds of material work together. We will think more about this when we come to Jesus’ first major speech, the famous ‘Sermon on the Mount’ (Matthew 5–7). But for now, in broad terms, we can say that Matthew 1–4 is the first narrative block, and that it leads up to and prepares for Jesus’ first discourse: the Sermon on the Mount. These chapters introduce Matthew’s story of Jesus. Just like a modern biography may begin with the early life of the subject, each of these chapters tells us something about Jesus’ origins. This interest in origins begins with the first verse of the Gospel.

THE BOOK OF THE ORIGINS OF THE MESSIAH (1:1) Matthew’s first verse sets his account of Jesus against the backdrop of Old Testament history, especially the history of David and Abraham. When Matthew says ‘the book of the genealogy of …’, he uses the same phrase the Old Testament uses to structure the opening chapters of Genesis.2 By this simple phrase, Matthew begins by alluding to the opening

2. See the expression, ‘these are the generations of …’ (Genesis 2:4; 5:1; compare 6:9; 10:1; 11:10 and 11:27).

Origins (Matthew 1–4) chapters of world history. In the Genesis account, God’s purposes for the world from the beginning (Genesis 1–11) provide the backdrop to the promises to Abraham (Genesis 12:1–3). Matthew’s allusion to the early part of Genesis therefore helps to prepare for the explicit mention of Abraham, as Matthew 1:1 goes on. This will not be the last time that Abraham and David figure in Matthew’s Gospel. 3 The explicit mention of Abraham and David here in the first verse alerts the reader to the promises God gave to both these men (Genesis 12:1–3 and 2 Samuel 7). Because of the importance of these promises, the mention of these two famous Old Testament characters firstly reminds us of the occasion when the promises were initially given to them. But it doesn’t stop with that. Because these promises shaped biblical history, the mention of Abraham and David recalls not only their initial reception of the promises, but also how these promises went on to determine the subsequent history of their descendants and the people of Israel. In other words, the promises themselves have a history. Matthew’s opening verse is already making an enormous claim: this history of the promises finds its fulfilment in the coming of Jesus, descendant of both Abraham and David, the one called ‘Christ’. To the first century Jew listening to this genealogy, the allusion to the promises to Abraham and David would also bring a slightly empty feeling. Given the sad history of Israel to that moment in human history, there could be no allusion to 2 Samuel 7 without the realisation that these promises remained (apparently) unfulfilled. In fact it could even be said that these promises had actually failed. In the ‘golden age’ of David and Solomon’s kingdom, it seemed as if they were fulfilled. But subsequent history had never seen a return to the prosperity of this period. Rather than Israel

3. Abraham: 1:1, 2, 17; 3:9; 8:11; 22:32. David: 1:1, 6, 17, 20; 9:27; 12:3, 23; 15:22; 20:30, 31; 21:9, 15; 22:42, 43, 45.

A Great Light Dawns being a blessing for the nations (so Genesis 12:1–3), Israel had been overrun by the nations for centuries. The Gentiles (nations) had become their curse, rather than being the recipients of a blessing from them. And, despite 2 Samuel 7, there had not been a king on David’s throne for a very long time. Israel was now subject to a Gentile ruler, whose subjects could cry ‘we have no king but Caesar’ (compare John 19:15) and whose blasphemous image even intruded into their ordinary lives on the coins needed for commerce (Matthew 22:17, 20, 21). The first century Jewish reader could legitimately ask, ‘Where is the fulfilment of the promises to Abraham and David?’ For the Jewish reader, these promises would produce mixed feelings: disappointment about the apparent failure of the promises along with all the suffering this caused, and yet, if they had the courage to believe again, a hope that one day God might again remember these promises and bring about a great day of fulfilment. Certainly, even as the fortunes of Israel were declining after David and Solomon, the prophets had tried to keep this hope alive. The first century Jew could look back over the Scriptures and recall how these promises to Abraham and David had shaped their history and how these original prophecies had ‘accumulated’ even larger prophetic promises in the hands of the prophets and the apocalyptic writers. And so, by the first century, among the faithful, even if tinged with the sadness of national failure, the expectation that God would still fulfil his promises was very much alive. And into this kind of expectation, Matthew sent his Gospel with its first verse so simply stated. For those with ears to hear, it was dropping a bombshell!

THE FAMILIAL ORIGINS OF THE MESSIAH (MATTHEW 1:2–17) After the title (1:1), chapter 1 has only two sections: 1:2–17 The genealogy of the Messiah 1:18–25 The genesis of the Messiah.

Origins (Matthew 1–4) Since the title mentions Abraham and David and verses 18–25 introduce Jesus to the story, the genealogy must serve to link Jesus to these two great figures of Israel’s past (and so, to their promises). It also makes special reference to the Babylonian exile (see vv 11, 12, 17), that terrible ‘black hole’ of Israel’s history.4 The exile was God’s wrath poured out because of Israel’s sin. After years of sinning against their God, Israel had finally suffered God’s judgement, and the people found themselves weeping by the waters of Babylon (Psalm 137), in the realm of their captors. Their once great nation was almost completely destroyed, with only a tiny remnant surviving. Why does the genealogy link Jesus in to this sad event in Israel’s past? Although, no doubt, every person on Matthew’s list could probably tell us something, the real significance of the genealogy comes from several sets of variations, which break the rhythm set up by the genealogical patterning. The first set of variations is the expansion added after the mention of Judah, ‘and his brothers’ (v 2). This reminds us that Israel was a union of twelve tribes. This genealogy is not simply a list of individuals, but of individuals who are representative of a nation, God’s ancient people. In fact, the people are those who derive their name from Judah—the Jews. The same expansion is found when the genealogy passes over a later period, referring to ‘Jeconiah, and his brothers’ (v 11). As Israel went into exile, all the royal line were lost, and all Israel with them. At that time, the future of the Jews was bleak indeed. In a different sense, but just as surely, the future of the Jews also looked bleak right back at the beginning with their progenitor. Genesis 38 recounts how their future was threatened by Judah failing to perpetuate his line, and yet God’s people were, in a sense, ‘redeemed’ by a Gentile woman, Tamar.

The book of Lamentations helps us understand something of the extent of this terrible disaster.

A Great Light Dawns This brings us to the second set of variations in the genealogy. It refers to four Old Testament women (vv 3, 5, 6), as well as to Mary, Jesus’ mother (v 16). In a world in which family inheritance was passed through the males, the presence of women was not a usual feature of genealogies— although three of these women have appeared in Israelite genealogies before (Ruth, see her book!; Tamar: Ruth 4:12, 1 Chronicles 2:4; Bathsheba: 1 Chronicles 3:5 ‘Bathshua’). If we ask whether there is anything that binds the four Old Testament women together as a group, sometimes it has been said that they were all Gentiles, but it is not clear that this was true of Bathsheba. Even though her husband was a Hittite, she was the daughter of Eliam (2 Samuel 11:3; 23:34; 1 Chronicles 3:5: ‘Ammiel’), granddaughter of Ahithophel, David’s counsellor (2 Samuel 15:12), which makes her pedigree seem thoroughly Israelite. Another long-given suggestion is that the four women were all renowned sinners. Given the irregularity of Jesus’ birth and the suspicions it may have raised concerning Mary’s reputation (see 1:18–21; and also John 8:41 which may be a slur on Jesus’ birth), it has often been said that these four women were women of a particular ‘flavour’. Each of them had a rather unusual story which gave them the stigma of suspected immorality: Tamar and Rahab were harlots; Ruth adopted some suspect sleeping arrangements with Boaz; Bathsheba was an adulteress; and then there was Mary … This break from the norm is said to somehow prepare for the unusual nature of Christ’s birth. But, once again, although often said, it is not clear that this is correct. Although these women certainly share in being sinners—as we all do—their stories actually portray each of them as more righteous than the men who are associated with them, and, in fact, this is specifically noted with regard to Tamar (Genesis 38:26). So we need to press further. One thing that is regularly overlooked is the fact that, in terms of being explicitly named, there are not four Old Testament women in 18

Origins (Matthew 1–4) Matthew’s genealogy, but only three. Bathsheba is here only indirectly as ‘the wife of Uriah’, a phrase that not only continues to damn David for his adultery and murder (see 2 Samuel 11; 12:9–10; 1 Kings 15:5), but that also introduces Uriah’s name into the line of the Messiah. This changes the question we should ask. If we ask what binds Tamar, Rahab, Ruth and Uriah together as a group, at the least it would be because these four were Gentiles, outsiders to the people of Israel, and yet they were grafted into the people of God, and even found a place in the line of the Messiah. Thus, in Matthew’s opening genealogy there is already a hint that Gentiles can find a place in God’s gracious purposes. And there will be more to come in the Gospel on that theme.5 The third set of variations underlines the fact that Jesus is the Christ. Although the genealogy follows the usual practice of simply providing names, when David is introduced it states that he was ‘the king’ (v 6). Then, another sequence of names begins by mentioning David a second time, signalling that he is the end of the first sequence in the genealogy, and the beginning of a second. Abraham to David, then David to … There are obvious reasons for mentioning ‘king’ David. This focuses on David’s ‘messianic’ importance. He was the king who received the promises (2 Samuel 7), and it was he who provided the shape for the messianic promises. Both ‘Messiah’ (Hebrew) and ‘Christ’ (Greek) mean ‘anointed’ and David was ‘God’s anointed’ (1 Samuel 16; Psalm 2). And Jesus, the Christ, was his son (vv 1, 6)—although he was also more than David’s son (22:41–45). The genealogy stresses that Jesus was the Christ (vv 16, 17), the one who inherited and fulfilled David’s promises. Even when Israel went into decline, the prophets held out hope for the future, and David figured in these hopes. One day there would be a new David (Isaiah 9:7; 11; 16:5; 22:22; 5.

In the preceding discussion, I have profited from the unpublished work of Stanley Ng.

A Great Light Dawns 55:3; Jeremiah 23:5; 30:9; 33:15, 17, 21–22, 26; Ezekiel 34:23–24; 37:25; Hosea 3:5; Amos 9:11; Zechariah 12:7–8, 10; 13:1). Perhaps, too, the two sequences of the genealogy remind us of the two periods of Israel’s history: the rise in Israel’s fortunes towards David and the ‘golden age’ under David and Solomon (1 Kings 1–11); and then the decline in their fortunes, from David to the exile. And this brings us to what is perhaps the most unusual variation in the genealogy: the stress on the exile (vv 11, 12, 17). It is unusual for a genealogy to mention an historical event—and perhaps it is especially unusual that this event is not something to be celebrated, for it was Israel’s worst national disaster. And yet the Babylonian exile has a pivotal role in the genealogy, marking the end of the second sequence begun with King David, and the beginning of the third and final sequence ending with ‘the Christ’. Since this is the only event mentioned and it has such a prominent position, then it must somehow reveal the character of Israel’s history and somehow add to the history of Jesus, the Christ. After the ‘golden age’ of David and Solomon, when the people of Israel seemed to have entered into a time of tremendous blessing, they then went into fairly rapid decline. Their kings led them astray into idolatry and they forgot the God who brought them out of Egypt and made them his people. Finally, when God had had enough, he poured out his wrath on the nation (2 Kings 22:17; 23:26–27; 2 Chronicles 36:15–16). In 587/6 BC, the people of Judah were carted off into captivity in Babylon, and the period later known as ‘the exile’ had begun. But there is one final surprise in this variation that hints at a most profound truth about Jesus. The genealogy comes to its climax with the birth of Jesus, but the way in which this event is described has a further set of variations from what could be expected. Matthew 1:16, ‘Jacob the father of Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus is born, who is called Christ’. Jesus’ role as the Christ, or Messiah, is clearly at the forefront and acts as the climax to this genealogy. 20

Origins (Matthew 1–4) This is the line of one born as the long-awaited king who will rule the whole earth (Psalm 2). This, in itself, makes this genealogy unique and different from any other. But there are further variations to notice. Instead of following the usual pattern of a genealogy through the father’s line, here Jesus’ birth is spoken of with respect to his mother, Mary. Rather than Mary being described in relationship to Joseph, he is described in relationship to her, and Jesus is not described in relationship to him. Instead, Joseph is called ‘the husband of Mary’. These variations are enough to raise questions for those who hear this genealogy: why is the father put into the background? Why is the mother given such prominence? What is it about the birth of Jesus, the one called the Messiah, that interrupts the usual conventions of lineage? In this subtle way, the reader is being prepared for the further elaboration that comes when Jesus’ birth is narrated in the next scene. In case we have missed the point of the genealogy, the summary at the end clearly brings it out (v 17). Whatever symbolic value the numbers may or may not have6, the 14-14-14 pattern is a simple structuring device which divides time thus far into three periods, or ‘epochs’. Jesus himself used similar schemas to structure time into significant phases, such as before his arrival and after it (Matthew 4:17; compare Mark 1:15), or before John the Baptist and then between John and his own ministry (Matthew 11:12), or his dramatic ‘today and tomorrow, and on the third day’ (Luke 13:32). Apocalyptic writing used such divisions of time to stress God’s plan and his deliberate intervention in human 6. Why 14? The 14 then 14 then 14 generations is clearly schematic for a) there are others which could have been put in the list, but have gone without mention and b) the last group only has 13. Most have opted for some symbolic meaning in the number 14, whether a) symbolising ‘completeness’ (three groups of two x seven); OR b) a gematria, i.e. a numeral which points to a person when the numeric value of the letters is considered (compare Revelation 13:17–18; Epistle of Barnabas 9:8; Rabbinics). David’s name added up to 14, which would perhaps stress the Christological purpose of the genealogy.

A Great Light Dawns history. Israel’s history is a simple sequence: Abraham (promise), to David (king of the promise), to the exile (‘loss’ of the promise). And at the end of the sequence, as the true completion and fulfilment of it, we have the coming of the Christ, who begins a fourth period of Israel’s history. This final stage is brought about by a new initiative from God, in the birth of Jesus.

THE GENESIS OF JESUS (1:18–25) A narrative gains its momentum from action, which is performed by its characters. So far in Matthew, there has been absolutely no action. The person who will be the main character of Matthew’s Gospel has been mentioned (v 1), and then characterised by his connection with the great ones of Israel’s past. But so far this is simply background material. He has not actually arrived ‘on the stage’, and without a character, neither can there be any action. Matthew chapter 1 will end without any action shown— only with action promised. But before it ends, it will have brought the main character into the narrative, and as he arrives the narrative will also reveal what he will do. This is done by the story of his ‘genesis’ (the Greek word translated as ‘birth’ in the ESV, v 18). The word used stresses not so much his birth, but his origin. This famous paragraph informs us of the manner in which the genesis of Jesus Christ came about. Mary’s child was ‘from the Holy Spirit’. Joseph learned this from the angel, that is, by divine revelation (a theme that will be important in Matthew’s Gospel). Now we understand why the genealogy connected Jesus directly to Mary, rather than to Joseph. Jesus was born to a virgin by the instrumentality of the Holy Spirit, not through the normal processes of human conception. This is what Christians for centuries have referred to as ‘the virgin birth’, or ‘the immaculate conception’. Of course, the overall genealogy showed Jesus to be part of Joseph’s line back to King David. Although Matthew has now explained that there 22

Origins (Matthew 1–4) was not a biological link to Joseph, Jesus is tied into David’s line presumably because his father named him as his son and there is therefore a legal link to this line. But far more importantly for an understanding of Jesus’ true identity, in an extraordinary, out-of-the-usual way of things, Mary conceived Jesus through the miraculous working of the Holy Spirit. This baby was divine, ‘Word become flesh’ (John 1:14), the incarnation of the Son of God. This absolutely unique conception helps to explain other things that Matthew will say about Jesus and his relationship to God ‘the Father’ (11:25–27; 16:16–17; 25:34; 28:19). God the Father, who was able to bring the world into being out of nothing (Genesis 1)—and who is able to give life even to the dead (Deuteronomy 32:39; 1 Samuel 2:6; 2 Kings 5:7; see also John 5:21; Romans 4:17; 8:11; 1 Corinthians 15:22)—brought the Messiah into the world through an immaculate conception. What grand plans must revolve around this child! In the angel’s speech (vv 20–21), Jesus is named by reference to his future function. He will save his people from their sins. Israel’s sins had taken them from the ‘glory days’ of the kingdom at the time of David and his son Solomon, to the ‘garbage days’ of the exile. To mention their ‘sins’ also brings to mind God’s judgement of their sins, and this is what they need to be saved from. To be ‘saved from their sins’ does not refer to them being kept from sinning, but to them being saved from the consequences of their sins, namely, God’s judgement and wrath. Jesus’ name promises that this is what he will do. Despite the Jews returning from Babylon, thus ending the historical period of exile, their theological exile still remained, for they were still under God’s wrath, waiting for him to fulfil his promises of forgiveness, restoration and renewal. Already the genealogy has hinted at some kind of irregularity in the birth of Jesus. Matthew now adds an explanation, which draws upon Isaiah’s promise of the ‘Immanuel’ child (v 23; see Isaiah 7:14). For those readers who don’t understand the Hebrew name, Matthew translates. This child will save his people from their sins, 23

A Great Light Dawns and he will be ‘God with us’. This is exactly what they need. The promise to Abraham was coupled with a ‘covenant promise’, which said that God was with him and would always be with his family. This would be the source of their blessing, and the presence of God with them would mean that all the families of the earth would also find blessing in Abraham, rather than a curse (Genesis 12:1–3). The promise was also added to David, that God would be with him and his family, and so all under their rule would receive the blessing of God, rather than a curse (2 Samuel 7). But as the kings turned away from God, refusing to have ‘God with them’, so God gave them up and the nation experienced curse, not blessing. In the first century, even though back in the land, Israel was still languishing under God’s judgement. They still looked for the day when blessing would return, when they could once again say, ‘God is with us’. And, when that day finally came, all the nations of the world would grab on to their coat-tails and say, ‘let us come too. For God is with you’ (see Zechariah 8:23). But now, as the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy came to pass, an even more amazing event was announced. ‘The virgin will conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel’ (Isaiah 7:14). Thus the extraordinary event of the incarnation of the Son of God came about through the normal, ordinary means of childbirth. But this was no ordinary birth and no ordinary child. This child brought God into the midst of our world in human form and this is Jesus’ true identity which Matthew will continue to place before his readers (see Matthew 11:25–27; 16:16–17; 28:18–19). The main character of Matthew’s story has now been introduced. But Matthew 1 has introduced Jesus rather formally. He is ‘distant’ from the reader, that is, there is not much to personalise him. In the first half of the chapter (vv 1–17) he is introduced in his formal role of Messiah. Now his role is defined by what he would do, that is, he would save his people from their sins. He is given a personal name (Jesus), but from the beginning of the story it is never just a personal name. Whenever we hear his name in the story to 24

Origins (Matthew 1–4) come, we ought to recognise that he is the Christ, the one who will save. And because God is the only Saviour (Deuteronomy 32:15; 1 Chronicles 16:35; Psalms 42:11; 65:5; Isaiah 43:3, 11; 45:21), this act of saving reveals his true identity. That is, his mission was prior to his person. He is defined by his role in God’s plan; the one who would save is Jesus. But there is an even more amazing thought here. Even in his first chapter, Matthew hints that through living and dying as the Christ, Jesus would save his people from their sins, and so bring in a situation in which his people—and even the nations—would be able to say, ‘God is with us’ (see Matthew 28:20).

FOR STUDY, DISCUSSION AND PRAYER Reminder: see pages 12–13 for an approach to answering these questions. 1. Whose shoes are you standing in, in order to see or hear what Jesus is doing? 2. What does a family tree tell those who are connected with it? Why is this important? 3. How does it help us and our contemporaries to know about Jesus’ origins? 4. What hope does Jesus’ name(s) bring to us? How will a true understanding of his name help those in our world?

THE GEOGRAPHICAL ORIGINS OF THE MESSIAH (2:1–23) If chapter 1 was interested in Jesus’ origins in terms of his family connections, Matthew 2 appears to be interested in his geographical origins. The chapter falls into three sections: 2:1–12 The quest for the Christ child 2:13–18 The flight to Egypt 2:19–23 The return to Nazareth

Each of these scenes helps us to understand Jesus’ geographical origins. The magi, that is, the ‘wise men’ with 25

A Great Light Dawns an interest in astrology and magic who came from the East, set up the point of the chapter by asking ‘Where?’ (v 2). Even though the readers already know that Jesus had been born in Bethlehem (v 1), the wise men got the same answer from the Scriptures (vv 5–6; Micah 5:2). Matthew 1 had connected Jesus with the promises to David. The prophet Micah had looked to the future ‘new David’ and said he would be born at Bethlehem. This reinforces in the reader’s mind that the Christ had fulfilled this prophecy already. The wise men found this out for themselves (vv 9–11), giving the child gifts. Just like the rest of the world brought gifts to Solomon (1 Kings 10), the prophets spoke of the Gentiles bringing their wealth into Israel (Isaiah 2:2–4 and 60:1–7; Psalm 45:7–9 and 72:10–15). After they worshipped him, true to Matthew’s apocalyptic perspective on these events, divine intervention occurred, interrupting the normal course of human history. Being warned by a dream, they went home another way (v 12), without telling Herod the location of the newborn king. Similarly Joseph was warned by divine revelation to flee to Egypt, because Herod wanted the child dead. God was clearly intervening in the affairs of corrupt human history to protect this child (compare Revelation 12:5, ‘her child was caught up to God and to his throne’). This occurred so that another Scripture could be fulfilled (v 15; Hosea 11:1). When Herod slew the infants of Bethlehem, further echoes of Scripture were heard, such as Pharoah’s destruction of Israel’s infants, as well as echoes of the tragedy surrounding Israel’s exile and the promises of new hope that would one day come true (v 18; Jeremiah 31:15). As this mourning occurred, another prophecy was fulfilled, because here we see the beginning of the mourning of the house of David that was predicted by Zechariah 12:12 (‘The land shall mourn, each family by itself: the family of the house of David by itself, and their wives by themselves …’). When Herod was dead, further divine revelation brought Joseph and his family out of Egypt—but not back home. The Herod family still represented a threat, and so Joseph took 26

Origins (Matthew 1–4) his family to Nazareth. Once again, this geographical location is taken as another fulfilment of Scripture (v 23)— even if the exact Scripture is difficult to pin down. The name ‘Nazareth’ may allude to the special Nazarite vows (see Numbers 6; Judges 13 and 16), or it may contain a pun on the Hebrew word nazir, branch, alluding to the messianic prophecy of the branch in Isaiah 11:1. But perhaps most probably, the odium attached to Nazareth (see John 1:46) links Jesus with another despised figure, Isaiah’s suffering Servant (Isaiah 42:1–4; 49:1–9; 50:4–6; 52:13—53:12): He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; And as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. (Isaiah 53:3)

So the unit ends with our ‘hero’ sequestered in Galilee, with a hostile king in power in Judea, who may well be out to kill him as well. All of this is in accordance with Scripture. Chapter 2 has therefore set up the conflict between the Messiah and those who were in power in the land, who were prepared to know the word of God and to recognise that the Messiah had been born, but then sought to destroy him anyway! This reminiscence about the suffering Servant was also a foretaste of things to come, when the rulers of Israel would join forces with the rulers of the Gentiles to oppose and destroy the one who came to save. We also note that Jesus is still ‘distant’. He continues to be described rather formally. He is just ‘the child’ and is not personalised yet. So our hero is the Christ, the Son of David, the Son of God, the Emmanuel. He has been characterised by his future function: ‘he will save his people from their sins’. In chapter 2, he has been opposed by human political power and chased out of the land properly belonging to him. This sets us up for the continuing conflict to be found in the story. We have also noted that chapter 2 has a focus on the geographical origins of the Messiah—where was the Christ from? This was a question the Jewish people talked about (see John 7:41–42), and it seems that Matthew also thought 27

A Great Light Dawns it was important. But he didn’t just have the question—he knew the answer! Matthew 1:1 spoke of Jesus’ ‘book of the genealogy’, which is like ‘Book of origins’. Chapter 1 showed the familial origins of the Christ in the line of Abraham and David and his divine origins in terms of his birth by the instrumentality of the Holy Spirit on a virgin. Matthew was clear that this all happened according to the Scriptures. Answering contemporary questions about where the Messiah would come from, Chapter 2 appears to speak of Jesus’ geographical origins. Yes, he came from Bethlehem; yes, he emerged out of Egypt—both places dictated by the prophetic Scriptures. And yes, he was called a Nazarene, again, according to the Scriptures. But now that we know the line he came from, and the place, what else do we need to learn in order to understand this man—and more than a man—and in order to understand what he has done for us?

FOR STUDY, DISCUSSION AND PRAYER Reminder: see pages 12–13 for an approach to answering these questions. 1. Whose shoes are you standing in, in order to see or hear what Jesus is doing? 2. How do the parallels between Jesus’ life and Israel’s history add to our understanding of Jesus? 3. What does the opposition to Jesus tell us about our world? 4. What hopes and what warnings does Jesus bring to those in our world?

THE DIVINE ORIGINS OF THE MESSIAH (3:1–17) In keeping with what has been said already, chapter 3 shows that the origin of Jesus’ ministry lay with God. But now we also learn that Jesus’ ministry commenced in our world with a certain key event in human history. Jesus emerged from Galilee into the public life of Israel, after he was baptised by John ‘to fulfil all righteousness’ (3:15). 28

Origins (Matthew 1–4) The arrival of John was after a gap of some 30 years from the events of chapter 2 (see Luke 3:23). ‘In those days’ (v 1) is not simply chronological, connecting the events of this chapter with those of the last. This was a common expression in the prophets, with overtones of ‘the last days’, and Matthew also uses it frequently (3:1; 24:19, 22, 29, 38; see also the expression ‘that day’, which occurs at 7:22; 13:1; 22:23; 22:46; 24:36; 26:29; compare 26:55). Here it points to the very nature of the events that chapter 3 is about to recount. From the beginning, there was an ‘apocalyptic flavour’ to these events for they unveiled God’s view of reality and the future kingdom at the end of human history. Just like the Old Testament prophet Daniel spoke of the future unveiling of God’s kingdom (Daniel 2:44; 7:13–14), so now God was unveiling his reality in the coming of Jesus Christ. The kingdom of heaven that was in the far distant future for Daniel (Daniel 12:4, 6–9, 13) was now brought very near. ‘In those days’, that is, as God’s plans and purposes for this world were coming towards the age of fulfilment, towards the time of the end, a ‘voice’ arrived. There are two scenes in this chapter: 3:1–12 The arrival of the voice 3:13–17 The arrival of the coming one.

Human history had been going on as if its common patterns and relentless sequence of events would never be interrupted, but God suddenly made his move—and the world changed forever. John the Baptist arrived preaching in the ‘wilderness of Judea’, in the largely uninhabited regions along the Jordan River. This was the place at which Israel first crossed into the Promised Land after the exodus from Egypt. John’s arrival is therefore cast as a new beginning for Israel. Without further introduction, Matthew reports his very simple message: ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand’ (3:2). Although it is true that God’s constant ‘rule’ over all things is a feature of Old Testament thought (for example, Psalm 103:19, over all; Psalm 22:28, over the nations; Psalm 59:13, over Jacob [that is, Israel]), the expression ‘the 29

A Great Light Dawns kingdom of heaven’ is not simply speaking of God’s general reign over all things. It is not simply equivalent to ‘God’s reign’, or ‘God’s rule’, nor is it a statement of God’s power and strength. It ought to be thought of more concretely than this. John’s momentous announcement (as with Jesus’ announcement later, 4:17) drew on the expectations of the kingdom found in the book of Daniel. As a substitute for all human ungodly kingdoms, God promised that he would one day set up his kingdom (Daniel 2:44): And in the days of those kings, the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that shall never be destroyed, nor shall the kingdom be left to another people. It shall break in pieces all these kingdoms and bring them to an end, and it shall stand forever.

It has often been noticed that, whereas the other Gospels use the term ‘the kingdom of God’, Matthew prefers to use ‘the kingdom of heaven’.7 This may be a clue to his sense of indebtedness to Daniel, who emphasises ‘the God of heaven’ somewhat (although this phrase is found elsewhere in the Old Testament). So Daniel 2:44 promises that ‘in the days of those kings the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that shall never be destroyed’. This future kingdom of God would spell the end of ungodly power, would never pass away, would be universal (that is, it would include both Jew and Gentile), and it would be given to the one like a Son of Man (Daniel 7:13–14, NIV): In my vision at night I looked, and there before me was one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven. He approached the Ancient of Days and was led into his presence. He was given authority, glory and sovereign power; all nations and peoples of every language worshipped him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed. 7. Matthew also uses ‘kingdom of God’, although only four times (12:28; 19:24; 21:31; 21:43).

Origins (Matthew 1–4) When John the Baptist spoke about the kingdom promised by the God of heaven through Daniel, there was a new and dramatic addition. At the end of his visions, Daniel had been told that they concerned the time of the end (Daniel 12:4, 9, 13), and so he could not understand them, but simply had to finish the course of his life and await the end. On the other hand, John the Baptist arrived in the midst of first century Israel and announced that this kingdom of heaven had drawn near! God’s apocalyptic intervention had begun. The things promised for the end of time were now being revealed. Immediately Matthew ties this figure into his fulfilment theme, by explaining that he is ‘the voice’ of Isaiah 40 (3:3; Isaiah 40:3). According to Isaiah, this figure was to prepare the way of the Lord. He prepared for the coming of the servant of the Lord, who would bring forgiveness of sins, and this would then issue in a new deal for Israel and a salvation that would flow out to the ends of the earth (see the ‘Servant Songs’: Isaiah 42:1–4; 49:1–6; 50:4–6; 52:13—53:12; 61). After first informing us of John’s function, Matthew then provides a description of John (v 4). John wore clothes reminiscent of the desert garb of the great prophet Elijah (2 Kings 1:8), and he also ate a desert man’s food. The Old Testament had closed with the prophecy of Malachi (4:5), which looked for an Elijah-like figure to come to prepare people to meet their God, by calling them back to their beginnings, that is, to their original relationship with God. Malachi 4:5 is not cited by Matthew at this point, but later in the Gospel it becomes clear that the expectation of this ‘last days Elijah’ figure was fulfilled in John the Baptist (see 17:12). According to Malachi, Elijah would be the forerunner to prepare the people of Israel for their encounter with the Lord. In Matthew, John’s message is consistent with this expectation, for he warns Israel to get ready, for the day of wrath is imminent, ‘even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees’ (v 10). This imminence arises from the fact that the coming one, mightier than John (vv 11–12; compare Isaiah 49:24–26 where questions are asked about taking captives 31

A Great Light Dawns from the ‘warriors’ [Hebrew: the mighty]), is about to arrive. John baptises in order to bring Israel back to their beginnings (v 11), but the mighty one will baptise in spirit and fire. Christian interpreters have often read this statement as if it is looking ahead to the gift of the Spirit given on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2), but in Matthew’s Gospel it is more likely to refer to what will occur in the ministry of Jesus, once he is equipped by the Spirit of God and sets about cleansing the land of Israel, purifying a remnant eager to do God’s will, and—most importantly—revealing God to all those whose eyes are opened to see (11:25–27). The next scene announces that Jesus emerged from the place of refuge in which he was sequestered at the end of the previous chapter in order to be baptised by John. John was reluctant to baptise him, but Jesus told him this would fulfil all righteousness (3:14–15), that is, it is according to God’s proper order of things—yet another note of fulfilment struck by the narrative. It is easy to fall into difficulty with this event by misunderstanding what ‘repentance’ is, possibly because of the influence of elements of the Christian tradition, which tend to speak of repentance as if it is primarily repentance from sin. In fact, it is difficult to find this kind of expression in the New Testament—Hebrews 6:1 is the closest, and even in that place it is about leaving behind Jewish practices. The primary movement in repentance is a turning towards God, which, of course, in a secondary sense also includes a turning from sin. For Israel repentance therefore meant a return to their beginnings, when God entered into a relationship by bringing them out of Egypt and into the Promised Land at exactly this spot: the river Jordan. So when Jesus received John’s baptism, it was not that he had sins to turn from (which would deny what is said of him elsewhere, for example Hebrews 4:15). Instead, he was turning towards God, joining in with John’s renewal of Israel’s covenant with God. He was acting as a faithful Israelite, who knew that the heart of their people should be turned towards God, starting with the heart of each individual.

Origins (Matthew 1–4) As Jesus came out of the water, in apocalyptic imagery indicating that a new stage of God’s revelation had begun, ‘the heavens were opened’ (compare Isaiah 64:1). Next, just like the dove’s arrival after the flood indicated the dawning of a new day for the world (Genesis 8:9–12), the Spirit of God descended upon him ‘like a dove’. He was now equipped to be the servant of the Lord (compare Isaiah 42:1) and, to confirm that this is his identity, a voice from heaven then designated him as the Son of God of Psalm 2:7 (‘You are my Son’) and the Servant of the Lord of Isaiah (42; 49; 50; 52:13—53:12; 61) (‘with whom I am well pleased’). Fulfilling a remarkable combination of Old Testament expectations he would be the all-powerful, world-conquering Messiah, but this role would be fulfilled by him being the Servant who suffered and sacrificially died. Standing in the kingly and prophetic line of David, the Spirit-anointed Servant of the Lord would bring the forgiveness of Israel’s sins, and, by so doing, the realisation of the Abrahamic promises about God’s blessing extending to all the tribes of the earth (Genesis 12:1–3). Jesus has now been publicly identified on the stage of human history. In that little band of people gathered at the Jordan so long ago, an event took place of enormous significance for the world for all time. Jesus’ origins lie with God himself, and this event on that day by the Jordan bore testimony to this fact in the real world of human affairs. Once the designation was made, his future role was also clearly marked out. For the Son of God, who is also the Servant of the Lord, has a destiny to fulfil. This destiny had been set down in the Scriptures, and as Jesus fulfilled it, he would save his people from their sins, and so become the Emmanuel, God with us.