First of all,
merry Christmas! I've posted this blog entry on Christmas day, but I'm guessing
you're probably reading it sometime after the 25th. I don't blame you. Who has time to read a blog on Christmas. Nevertheless, chances are it is still Christmas according the liturgical calendar of
the Catholic Church. The Christmas season has only just begun today, and it continues
up to the celebration to the Baptism of our Lord (January 10th this
year). So keep drinking that eggnog, and I repeat, merry Christmas!
Given this current season, it's no surprise that today's post
is going to be about the infancy narratives of Jesus. To begin, if you have a nativity
set displayed in your home at this time, take a close look at it, or – if you
don't want to leave your chair (and trust me, I know the feeling) – simply
recall what it looks like in your mind. What do you see? A stable. Shepherds.
An ox and/or donkey. Maybe some sheep. A man and a woman looking over an infant
in a crib full of hay. Three men in fancy robes with treasures in their hands.
Perhaps there is a star or angel on top.
It's a beautiful image, and it's
just about as recognizable in or outside of Christian culture as the cross is.
Most of us know the story of Jesus' birth... or at least we think we do. We've
heard it proclaimed a Mass or other religious services. We sing the Christmas
carols that recount the story. We've seen A
Charlie Brown Christmas and have heard Linus recite Luke 2:8-14. We know it
from other movies or works of art. We have nativity sets in our homes or at
least have seen them displayed elsewhere. In short, we have a pretty good sense
of the story of Jesus' birth from pop culture. But when was the last time you
actually read it straight from the Scriptures? Did you know that there are,
in fact, two distinct infancy narratives in the Gospels, which can be found in Matthew 1:18-2:23 and in Luke 1-2. (I know, right? One baby story just isn't good enough for Jesus.)
Only these two Gospels have any account of Jesus' infancy or childhood, and, not
surprisingly, – especially given the differences we have already seen in Matthew and Luke's genealogies – these two
narratives agree on very few points.
Perhaps you are already familiar
with the differences, but to those for whom this is news, do not be afraid (did you see what I did there?). Like the
genealogies, the infancy narratives were written from the perspective of faith,
not with historical facts in mind. These passages in Scripture are a perfect
introduction to a theme I hope to expound upon more as this blog continues in
the future, and that is the difference between Truth (with a capital
"T") and fact. When it comes to the infancy narratives – especially
since there are two accounts which hardly agree on anything – there is very
little that biblical scholars can point to with certainty as being historical.
But this shouldn't concern us. As Daniel Harrington, a Catholic Jesuit priest,
says in his commentary on Matthew, "The more important issue is
determining what these stories meant to [the evangelist] and his
community."[1]
To add to that I would also say what the Scriptures
are saying to us by extension of what it meant to the Gospel writers and
their communities. Therein lies part
of what I mean by Truth, for you see, the Scriptures are less concerned with
what can be proven by the senses, which is typically how modern thinkers understand "truth." Instead, they are all about revealing who
God is, what God's relationship to humanity is and vise versa, and what our relationships should be like with each other as fellow members of the human race.
So as we take a look at the infancy narratives, ask yourself: What is this saying about God's relationship
to humanity? What is this saying about who God, revealed in the person of Jesus, truly is? This will help us come to know better the Truth that God is
communicating to us in these sacred texts.
Like I said, the infancy narratives
of Matthew and Luke agree on very little. The two main things that they do
agree upon are that Jesus was born of a virgin named Mary who was betrothed to Joseph and that Jesus was born
in Bethlehem, the city of David. That's about it. All the stuff about shepherds
and a manger belongs to one Gospel, and all the stuff about magi and fleeing to
Egypt belongs to another. So if you've taken a look at your nativity set and
have found both shepherds and wise men on display, you're combining two distinct
stories. Don't worry; I'm not criticizing you if you do have it that way. I
tend to put the wise men out a little later, but
eventually they make their way right up next to the shepherd figurines. It's
easy for us, though, to confuse the two narratives and try to mesh them together. Pop
culture has been doing this for centuries. We like to stack up all the Gospels
together like a quadruple-decker club sandwich because it's easier that way. However, although it may look tasty, somethings are going to fall out of a sandwich that
big, and we'll fail to appreciate the subtle and unique deliciousness that each
Gospel has to offer. As a Bible nerd, I try to keep the narratives separate, so
for our purposes today let us take a look at some of the major elements in each
of the distinct, individual narratives.
Matthew's infancy narrative.
Obviously there is a lot that can be
said about any part of Scripture, so this is by no means an exhaustive look at Mt 1:18-2:23. In fact, I'm going to try
to keep it brief because it's Christmas, and you and I both have things to do. Am I right?
One of the things you may notice in
reading this passage is the uncanny similarity to another birth narrative in
the Old Testament. A wicked king wants to destroy all the infant boys in the
land, and one is rescued. Sound familiar? Yes, Matthew is paralleling Jesus'
infancy to that of Moses'! In fact, this is not the only place in Matthew that
he draws this connection. One of the reasons that Matthew places Jesus on a mountain
when he delivers the so-called "Sermon on the Mount" is because Moses
received the Law from God on a mountain. Jesus, in Matthew's Gospel, is a Moses
figure, the new law-giver, the one who leads his people out of slavery. If you
recall from last week's post, Matthew's Gospel is written to a very Jewish Christian
audience, so these Old Testament parallels would not only have been easily
recognized, but would have had a lot of significance to them. You'll also
notice that Matthew makes a lot of other connections to passages from the Hebrew
Scriptures, constantly quoting them even when it doesn't seem that necessary.
Joseph, who plays the central role
in Matthew's narrative rather than Mary (even though he doesn't say a word), is also paralleled with an Old
Testament figure. In the genealogy he is said to be the son of a man named
Jacob. Why? Think of another man named Joseph in the Old Testament who was the son of a
Jacob. It is that very Joseph we find in Genesis, who likewise had dreams and
eventually went down to the land of Egypt where he and his family experienced solace
for a time.
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The attitude toward Egypt in Jewish thinking was a bit ambivalent –
at times a place a refuge, and at other times the place of slavery from which
Israel must be freed. Not surprisingly, then, the Holy Family finds
refuge in Egypt, but Jesus, the Moses figure, is also brought out of there and
into the land of Israel. It's significant that the Holy Family is portrayed as
refugees and immigrants in the narrative, both for the Gospel's original
hearers and for us today. Protection of the "stranger" is common
theme in both the Old and New Testament, and as we seek to understand the Truth
in Scripture, such repeated motifs most assuredly have something to say to us
about how we should strive to live together
as a human family.
But what of those magi, those wise men?
Where are they paralleled in the Hebrew Scriptures? It's a less familiar story,
but in the book of Numbers a foreign prophet, Balaam, is called upon by his
king to curse the Israelites. Instead, however, he utters a blessing for them. The star
that Matthew refers to may even be traced to the Balaam's prophecy: "A
star shall advance from Jacob, and a staff shall rise from Israel" (Num
24:17). Of course, another Old Testament reading associated with the magi comes
from Isaiah 60, in which Israel is depicted as a light to the nations, and
foreign kingdoms shall come and pay Israel homage – "Caravans of camels
fill you, dromedaries from Midian and Ephah; All from Sheba shall come bearing
gold and frankincense" (Is 60:6). Not surprisingly, the Church pairs this
reading from Isaiah with the passage about the magi on the feast of the
Epiphany. Listen for this if you plan on going to Mass on January 3rd.
It appears that Matthew had an
agenda about the inclusion of the Gentiles into the Christian story of
salvation. Recall, also, in Matthew's genealogy his inclusion of those foreign
women. Since the evangelist strongly believed in the continuity of the Jewish
faith with the Jesus event, he was flabbergasted that so many of the people of Israel
did not accept Jesus as the Messiah. So at the end of his Gospel he turns his
attention to the Gentiles: "Go, therefore, and make disciples of all
nations..." (Mt 28:19). The magi from the east, representing the Gentile
population, contrast with Herod and his court. These foreigners from the east
(probably Persia, modern day Iran) come to pay the newborn king of the Jews
homage, while Herod seeks the child's life.
Luke's infancy narrative (see chapters
1-2 of Luke)
Luke is a masterful storyteller, and
his narrative of Jesus' birth is very near and dear to our hearts. The bulk of
our nativity sets and memories from nativity movies derive from his version. In
Luke, Mary plays the central role, being the one to whom the angel announces
Jesus' birth. Women in general often have a prominent role in Luke's Gospel.
Both Mary and Elizabeth are key figures in the first two chapters, and in
Lk 2:36-38 it is not only Simeon but also
a prophetess named Anna who praises the child. The inclusion of women in Luke's
Gospel is not so much an expression of 1st century feminism, but has
to do more with Luke's theme of mercy to the poor and lowly. Unfortunately, women
all throughout history and in most places around the world today have been among
the most powerless. At the annunciation scene, Mary, as a young, unmarried and childless
woman would have been one of the lowliest persons in society. She is not only
the personification of God's poor, but she is also a voice that proclaims God's
favor and love to the meek. When she visits her relative, Elizabeth, she
announces in her resounding speech: "He has shown might with his arm,
dispersed the arrogant of mind and heart. He has thrown down the rulers from
their thrones but lifted up the lowly. The hungry he has filled with good
things; the rich he has sent away empty" (Lk 1:51-53).
The theme of poverty and lowliness
permeates the entirety of Luke's infancy narrative. Jesus' birth scene may seem
cute and darling to our modern sensibilities – the stuff of children's
Christmas pageants. (No criticism of nativity plays intended. They're a good learning tool for kids.) But the fact of the matter is that Luke's
portrayal of the savior's birth is far from cute or glamorous. The son of God
is born into the world in a state of utter poverty. There was no room at the
inn. He was wrapped in strips of cloths (presumably that is what the arcane
term "swaddling clothes" means). And he was laid in a manger, a
feeding trough for animals. Pet peeve, by the way: a stable is not the same
thing as a manger. Animals live in stables and eat from mangers. I get all bent
out of shape whenever I hear people say that Jesus was born in a manger. Think about it; that
would be a an awkward situation. Luke doesn't actually say under what kind of
shelter, if any, Jesus was born. The word "stable" does not appear at
all in Luke's infancy narrative. We might presume he was born in a stable, but
for all we know it could have been al fresco. The point is, the setting and
environment of Jesus' birth in Luke's Gospel is a poor one indeed. It would likely be the equivalent of being born in a subway station today.
And the imagery of poverty
continues, for the shepherds in particular were among the lowest classes in that
society at the time. I'm not entirely sure what a 1st century,
Palestinian shepherd would have been like, but I'm certain he did not resemble a Precious Moments
figurine. I'd imagine such shepherds would have been strong, unkempt men who
could fend off attackers or wild beasts with brute force, and they probably
reeked of sheep and manure (or insert another word that is alliterative to sheep). Yet Luke portrays these poor folk as being the
first to receive the Good News.
Both Joseph and Mary are portrayed as
poor yet obedient and faithful Jewish people. They journey to Bethlehem for the
census, and there they are depicted as strangers who could not find
shelter. Later, in accordance with the Mosaic law, they have Jesus circumcised
eight days after his birth, and they go to the Temple for Mary's purification.
Luke actually implies that it was for both Mary's and Joseph's purification, but according to the law only the woman
who gave birth was required to be purified. You can't blame Luke for getting
wrong this bit about Jewish custom though; he was a Gentile, and what do they
know anyway? Nevertheless, I think he makes his point clear about the humble obedience
of the couple. And furthermore, he is careful to note that they offered a pair of
turtledoves for their sacrifice, which was the offering of a poor person who could
not afford to offer up a lamb.
Through the faithful examples of
Mary and Joseph, Luke firmly roots Jesus in the Jewish tradition. Luke is
demonstrating to his Gentile audience that Jesus and his family were good Jews.
Jesus was born a Jew and died a Jew. And since Luke is writing to Gentiles, there
may have been a concern among them that God's promises to the people of Israel
had been revoked. Therefore, he wants to assure his audience that this was not the case, that the promises
to the people of Israel have indeed been fulfilled, that they have not been
found wanting, and therefore the Gentiles can trust that God's word to them is
true. The canticles of Mary (Lk 1:46-55), Zechariah (1:68-79), and Simeon
(2:29-32) all bear this theme of the fulfilled promise to the people of Israel.
And the last of the three, Simeon's prayer when he encounters the infant Jesus in the Temple, explicitly brings together the fulfilled promise to Israel and
the extension of blessing to the Gentiles: "...a light for revelation to
the Gentiles, and glory for your people Israel."
So what are we to take from all
this? Well, to borrow from Shrek,
Sacred Scripture is like an onion. It has layers. Indeed, there are numerous layers of
meaning that can be gleaned from these infancy narratives, and I have barely peeled back even just one of those thin, sheer layers.
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The layers of meaning are there for us to unfurl and meditate upon, and they are never exhausted. As we discern the Truth which God is communicating to us
in these sacred texts, let us ask ourselves some of those questions I mentioned
earlier: What this scripture saying about God's
relationship to humanity? What is it saying about who God, revealed in the
person of Jesus, truly is? And what is it saying about how we as a human race
ought to live with one another? Perhaps this will help us sift deeper through the layered meanings of Scripture and allow it to touch our heart more personally.
Just to remind you of a few themes
discussed in these narratives to guide you in your meditations:
* Jesus is
portrayed as a new Moses. Moses led his people out of slavery, spoke with God
directly, and gave the Law from God to his people on Mt. Sinai.
*Jesus is
adored by foreigners, but rejected by the powerful and those who should have
known better.
* Jesus, Mary,
and Joseph are portrayed in both Gospels as migrants or refugees and,
especially in Luke, are among the poorest in society. In Luke, the savior, Messiah, and Lord is
born in the lowliest of states.
* The Good
News of salvation is first proclaimed to poor social outcasts.
* God fulfills
his promises to his people in the person of Jesus Christ.
* I didn't mention this earlier, but it's worth emphasizing that the infant Jesus was laid in a feeding bin. I cannot say whether or Luke intended this (probably not), but I smell a Eucharistic metaphor. Think about it.
* I didn't mention this earlier, but it's worth emphasizing that the infant Jesus was laid in a feeding bin. I cannot say whether or Luke intended this (probably not), but I smell a Eucharistic metaphor. Think about it.
Hopefully this gives you plenty to
reflect upon during this joyous season of Christmas (Dec. 25 – Jan. 10). I
don't know if I will have the opportunity to post a new blog for the next
couple of weeks, but I think the infancy narratives have enough things in them
to chew on for a good while – probably for a lifetime and then some, but there
is a lot more in Scripture to ponder. Until next time, I pray you have a
blessed Christmas and a happy New Year. And, as always, you may post questions
or comments on this page, the Bible Codega Facebook page, or to my e-mail:
biblecodega@gmail.com.
God's peace!
[1] Daniel J. Harrington, The Gospel of Matthew, Sacra Pagina 1. (Collegeville:
Liturgical Press, 1991), 47.
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