Christus Victor

Fundamental to the Christian faith is the idea that Jesus died for sins (1 Cor 15.3). But what does that mean?

We have looked at the Ransom, Substitution and Moral Influence models and finally we will present the Christus Victor Theory (CV).

CV (Christ victorious) states that Christ's death and resurrection victoriously overcame the hostile powers that held humanity in subjection. Those powers are understood as the devil, sin, the law, and death.

The name CV was coined by Gustaf Aulen in 1931. He argued that it was actually the oldest theory on the atonement, noting that almost every Church Father supported it including Irenaeus, Origen, and Augustine.

Aulen posited that theologians have misunderstood the view of the early Church Fathers, noting that they were less concerned with the actual payment of ransom to the devil (Ransom Theory), and more with the theme of our liberation from sin and death.

What CV does especially well is reject the legal nature of the other models, especially the Substitutionary model (PS) and the problems inherent with them. In PS God is seen (wrongly) as an angry judge and Jesus is our attorney who works out a deal to get us off the hook and out of hell.

All we have to do is believe that the legal transaction has occurred with Jesus as our substitute and we are freed. Because how we live is not key to the legal arrangement it is easy to separate one's belief from one's actions.

In CV, however, what Christ accomplishes for us cannot be divorced from what he then accomplishes in us, namely our participation in the way of life and his cosmic victory over all things that stop us from living as he desires us to live. 

Through Christ, God revealed himself (Rom 5.8, cf. Jn 14.7-10); he reconciled all things, including humans, to himself (2 Cor 5.18-19; Col 1.20-22), he forgave our sins (Ac 13.38; Eph 1.7); gave his Spirit to us allowing us to faithfully represent him (Rom 8.2-16 ); but he also was victorious over the hostile powers of evil, death, and destruction (Jn 12.31; 1 Jn 3.8; 1 Cor 15.25).

Of the four main views, CV is the most comprehensive and seems most able to incorporate all of the positive qualities of the other views, while maintaining Biblical as well as intellectual credibility.

Smoke, Drink, Cuss, & Chew

What if you never got drunk? Never smoked? Never cussed? Never "went too far?" Some people would applaud you, after all, these are the characteristics of a "godly person."

But what if upon further examination the products you consumed made you guilty of far greater evils? What if the phone you used, the clothes you wore, and even the food you ate, did tremendous harm to people both here in the U.S. and abroad?

Would you still be righteous? Would you still look godly? Often the acts that do the most harm are those that go unseen or unnoticed, but how do we most often judge people's character?

It is interesting to me that Jesus' strongest condemnations were against those who "looked" pious and godly, but were involved in systematic evils that robbed people of their humanity. 

Are we living the life that we are called to in all of our choices, or just those that are made public, that make us look good?

People Don't Like You

It's OK if people don't like you. It took me a long time to come to grips with that. I think mainly because I struggle with basing my self esteem on what others think of me.

My wife has a brilliant saying, "If everyone likes you, you are not being true to yourself."

Jesus warned his followers of this in John 15, "If the world hates you, remember it hated me before it hated you."

The Greek word for "world" here is kosmos, which literally means "something ordered" or "ordered system." We get our English word cosmetic from it, which means to "order one's face."

When Jesus uses this term he is speaking about a way of "ordering the world" that does not harmonize with God's way.

Jesus told his followers they will be hated by people who build themselves up by stepping on others; who abuse the poor and only love those inside their "circle."

If you are hated because you reject a system that marginalizes others and has no room for love, grace, and mercy - Congratulations! You are in good company.

Competing Powers

Constantine

Two of Jesus' disciples ask him for a favor, "Can we sit at your right and left in your glory?" (Mk 10). To which Jesus replies, "You have no idea what you're asking." 

The disciples were waiting for Jesus' revolution; counting down the days until he gathered up his army and kicked the mighty Romans out of Israel once and for all. They wanted to make sure they that were all set to help Jesus rule in his new kingdom. 

But in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus' "glory," or the coming of his kingdom, was his death, and thus to "sit at his right and left" was to occupy the crosses to his right and left as he was crucified. This is why he tells them they have no clue what they are really asking for. 

He goes on to explain that the Kingdom of God doesn't work like earthly kingdoms. There would be no rulers in this new community and the would-be leaders were to be servants, looking to the needs of others before their own. 

Followers of that Kingdom would experience the power of selfless living, looking out for the marginalized, caring for the poor, and renouncing violence (Mt 5). Their commitment to these values in a culture of oppression and violence, brought upon the early church decades of persecution. 

This meant that on a national scale it was easy for Christians to live by Jesus' power narrative - they had no power. But this all changed in the 4th century CE, when the Roman Emperor Constantine became a Christian and effectively made it illegal not to be one.

From that point on, western Christians would struggle with a question of loyalty:  Do we buy into God's definition of power, where we lay down our lives for others, or do we remain loyal to this world's definition, where we gain through others' loss?

Moral Improvement

Fundamental to the Christian faith is the idea that Jesus died for sins (1 Cor 15.3). But what does that mean?

We have looked at the Ransom and Substitution models and in this post we'll check out the Moral Influence Theory (MIT). 

The MIT suggests that the purpose of Jesus life, death, and resurrection was to bring about positive moral change. To change the world by spreading love from one person to the next (cf. Mt 28.19; Jn 15.13).

This view was held by almost all early church writers including Clement, Ignatius, Origen, Irenaeus, and Augustine. It was reformulated in the 12th century by Peter Abelard in reaction to Anselm's Substitution theory.

It is a "subjective" model where Christ changes humanity vs. an "objective" model, like Substitutionary Atonement, where God is changed by Christ. In the MIT, God does not require Christ's death to satisfy divine justice and so no change in God is effected by the cross.

Instead in the MIT, God is primarily concerned with whether a person's inner character is good or evil. We are to follow Christ's example of selfless love (cf. 1 Pt 2.21), even if as with him, it costs us our lives.

The MIT has many strong points, including its recognition of the numerous passages in the NT that speak of God's final judgment according to moral conduct, as well as those that speak of the life change Jesus came to motivate (cf 1 Cor 3, Mt 25). 

It has been critiqued for not taking sin or God's wrath seriously enough, as well as promoting salvation by works.

The majority of the critiques, though, come from a lens that has been clouded by the Substitution model, where the focus is primarily on Jesus' death. Instead, the MIT focuses on the whole story, including the movement that was birthed out of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection and its trans-formative impact on the world. 

As with all the models, the MIT should not be seen as the only way to view the Christ event, but rather another piece in the beautiful mosaic God created two-thousand years ago. 

Next Post in the Series: the Christus Victor Model

Producing Life

Jesus is approached by a dad with a serious problem: his twelve-year-old daughter is dying. So he asks Jesus to come and touch her, hoping this will make her well (Mk 5).

Jesus agrees and sets off towards the man's house, but he's not alone. A large crowd is following him and in that crowd is a woman who also has a serious problem: she has been bleeding for twelve years. 

This condition leaves her ceremonially unclean (Lev 15) and cuts her off from full participation in her community. In the ancient world things like sex, birth, and death were mysterious and powerful, and thus taboo, so any association with them made a person unclean. 

Because of this she wasn't supposed to touch anyone, but she touches Jesus. This act miraculously heals her.

Unfortunately her healing took time and during this delay the twelve-year-old dies. Jesus continues toward her home anyway, and when he arrives he finds her family mourning.

He asks the family why they are making so much commotion and tells them "the girl is only sleeping." They laugh at him, but then he touches her, telling her to wake up, and she is restored to life.

The woman bleeding for twelve years and the twelve-year-old who is brought back to life, symbolize Jesus' restoration of Israel. Israel was made of twelve tribes and in healing these women, he is restoring life to the "life producers" of Israel. 

Penal Problems

For the last few days we have been discussing the models used to explain what Jesus did when he "died for sins" (1 Cor 15.3).

First and foremost, we must keep in mind that they are only "models." They seek to direct our attention to the mystery of what happened when God became flesh, died, and then rose again (Rom 11.33ff). 

When speaking about God, we (and the Bible as well) are limited by language. So we use parables, analogies, and metaphors, all in an attempt to paint a picture of what it looks like when the Infinite interacts with the finite.

The last post in the series introduced the Penal Substitution model (PS) and today we will look at it a little closer. As a review, this model essentially says: We deserve punishment for our sin and God punished Jesus instead of us. 

PS is a model we use to point us to the "fact" that our sins are forgiven, but does not explain the intricacies of "how" exactly they are forgiven. When we focus on the "how," all of the models run into problems, but especially PS. 

Take for example the problems that arise when we take passages that speak of Christ's work on our behalf, such as Rom 3.25, 1 Jn 2.2, 4.10, and misinterpret them. Those passages clearly state that Christ is an "atoning sacrifice" (Gk. hilasterion/hilasmos - mercy-seat/sin offering) for us.

But the question is: how did the sacrificial system work? Sacrifices in the Hebrew Scriptures did not "take the place" of the wrong-doer, rather they fulfilled cultic rituals as a part of the Covenant and paved the way for forgiveness. It has always been God's forgiveness, often without sacrifice, that restored people to him (cf. Jonah, Mic 6.6-8). 

But Jesus was a sacrifice and one picture we get of him is as the Passover Lamb (John 19). We might think that this picture suggests that Jesus died "in our place," but that's not the role of the lamb in the Passover story. 

There the lamb's blood was used as a sign to mark those who belonged to God and save them from God's wrath. So in the end we see that saying Jesus was a sacrifice for us does not necessarily mean God punished him "in our place."

With that said, there are places in the NT that do speak about Jesus dying "in our place" (Gk anti cf. Mt 20.28, Mk 10.45). But there are many others where language about Jesus dying "for us" does not mean "in our place." Those verses would be much better translated "for our benefit." We should let each passage speak for itself and not force them to say things they are not saying.

Finally, PS argues that Christ died so we don't have to. But what about the very prominent NT theme of participation in Christ's death (cf. Heb 13.11-16, Rom 6.1-4, Gal 2.20), where we put to death the "old way," the way of sin death, and disorder and are "raised" to new life (2 Cor 5.14ff)? In this way Jesus doesn't prevent our death, he actually brings it about.

There are many other critiques of this model, some valid, others not. In the end, PS captures the power behind a number of "pictures" in the NT about the Cross, but it is limited, and we need the other models in order to most fully grasp the beauty of the Christ event. 

Next post: The Moral Influence Theory

For more on this issue check out Packer's well argued view of PS. It covers pros an cons fairly but is limited by its inaccurate understanding of the Mosaic Law.

Substitute

Medal of Honor

Fundamental to the Christian faith is the idea that Jesus died for sins (1 Cor 15.3). But what does that mean? 

Yesterday we looked at the Classic (Ransom) theory, and today we'll tackle the Satisfaction (Substitution) model. This theory started around 1000ce with a monk named Anselm.

Anselm didn't like the Ransom view because it gave the Devil too much power. He had a hard time believing God could owe Satan anything and instead argued that it was we who owed God something: honor. 

Sin had robbed God of honor, but the problem was that humans were incapable of the obedience required to restore that honor, and so only a special being he calls the God-man (Jesus), could save the day. 

In Anselm's day, living rightly stored up honor, almost like a piggy bank. He saw Jesus' perfect life, culminating in his innocent death, as the ultimate piggy bank, able to pay the world's debt to God because of sin. Christ's piggy bank was then substituted on behalf of ours, making God a happy camper again.

But what if the problem wasn't God's lost honor? What if it was God's justice that sin called into question? This idea was developed by people like Thomas Aquinas and John Calvin, who felt that Christ's death did not repay God for lost honor, but rather paid the penalty of death that had been the consequence for sin all along (Gen 2.17, Rom 6.23). This view is known as the Penal-Substitution theory.

The Penal-Substitution theory argues that justice required God to punish humanity for sin, but God sent Jesus to bear the penalty. Jesus was even convicted as a criminal and sentenced to death, which made him the perfect substitute for us and satisfied God's wrath.

But even Aquinas and Calvin disagreed. Aquinas believed that Christ's death paid the penalty for all humanity, whereas Calvin felt it was limited only to those whom God had picked to be saved.

Next Post: Penal Problems

Ransom

Fundamental to the Christian faith is the idea that Jesus died for sins (1 Cor 15.3). But what does that mean? 

Christians have been debating the significance of the Christ event for 2000 years and over that period at least three major theories have surfaced: the Classic (Ransom), the Satisfaction (Substitution), and the Moral Influence (Idealistic).

Over the next few posts I want to look at these three views and ask what it might mean for us that the church has been wrestling with this for 2000 years and continues to do so.

First the Classic or Ransom theory. This theory is the earliest of all and uses passages like Mark 10.45, to argue that Christ was given as a ransom for humanity. The texts do not specify to whom the ransom was paid, although most early Christian writers argued it was to Satan.

According to this theory, Adam and Eve sold humanity to the Devil when they sinned and justice required a ransom be paid to the Devil for our release. God then tricked Satan into taking Christ as a ransom, and justice was satisfied. Poor Devil gets hosed though, because Jesus resurrects, leaving him to play all by himself. 

Before you write this this theory off as absurd, you must know that it was the dominant way of understanding Jesus' death for close to 1000 years, and is still held by some traditions today. 

One of the problems with it is the fact that nowhere does the Bible speak about the ransom being paid to Satan (or God for that matter), so any elaboration on those passages is destined to be conjecture.

It is interesting though, that the majority of Christians found it a valuable way to speak about Jesus for more than a millenia. It may not be how you understand things, but such an observation leads me to ask: I wonder which ideas I have about God will one day been seen as disconnected and inaccurate?

Next Post: The Satisfaction or Substitution Theory

I Deny the Resurrection

Filling Space

Jesus tells a parable: "An unclean spirit goes out of a person, and it wanders through the desert looking for a place to rest, but it finds none. So it says, 'I will return to my house (the formerly possessed person) from which I came.' 

It comes, finds it empty, swept, and put in order. Then it goes and brings along seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and live there; and the person is worse off than before."

In the ancient world things were "unclean" that conflicted with the god one served. The Israelites for instance, considered other nations unclean because of their opposition to Israel's values.

Israel even had a whole slew of rituals in place to help a person become "clean" who had forfeited his or her purity by associating with things not "of God." 

The person in Jesus' parable did well by "evciting" the thing that was contradictory to the heart of God. But they didn't fill their life with anything else, and so they were incredibly susceptible to the things that drug them down in the first place. 

How many of us have seen this, either in our own lives or that of others? We give up something, become better for it, but don't take action to replace the vice with virtue and end up falling even further than before.

Here's to ridding ourselves of things that run contrary to the heart of God, and then filling those spaces with things that make us more who we are supposed to be.

Donkey!!

Jesus walked on water, calmed storms, and healed people, but did you know he could ride two donkeys at the same time? 

That's what Matthew tells us in his version of Jesus' life (Mt 21). In preparation for his final entry into Jerusalem, he records Jesus instructing his closest friends to go into a village and find a "donkey, and a colt with her and bring them to me." 

They bring the two animals to Jesus, throw their jackets on both animals and then Jesus hops on both of them! Matthew tells us Jesus did this to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, "Tell the daughter of Zion (Jerusalem): Look your king is coming to you, humble and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey" (Is 62.11, Zech 9.9). 

The other gospels only have Jesus riding on the colt and make no mention of two animals, so why would Matthew tell the story this way? It is most likely because he saw Jesus as the literal fulfillment of the words from Zechariah. 

He is so serious about rooting these events in the authoritative Hebrew scriptures, that he chooses to ignore the poetic force of the passage and instead interprets it literally. 

Mentioning the smaller donkey after the first is a way of strongly emphasizing the humility and peacefulness of the one riding the animal: "Your king is so humble and peaceful, that he rides on a donkey...not just a donkey, but a baby donkey."

Jesus rode into Jerusalem being touted by his followers as the triumphant deliverer of Israel, and Matthew more than any of the other gospels presents the strongest contrast between Jesus and the rulers of the day. 

Jesus rides into Jerusalem on two animals, struggling to keep his balance, on his way to inaugurate a revolution of peace. In this revolution people lay down their lives instead of taking them, and what could be a more brilliant picture of their peaceful founder than that.

Taking Back the World

We live in such incredible tension. The world around us is filled with incalculable beauty and yet unimaginable tragedy:

Pinochet's crimes against the Chilean people remind me of what Crossan says, "The primary goal of the Church is to take the world back from the thugs":

The affirmation that Jesus is Lord, is an affirmation of a world view that is wholly different than what we typically experience. May we find the strength to truly love others as we love ourselves and so change the tragic tide of history as we partner with God as he restores this broken world. 

Jesus, Why Are You Different?

Jesus gets arrested. That much is clear. But how it happened is less clear. Mark's version portrays a Jesus who has very little control.

He uses violent verbs to describe the arrest and tells us Jesus is basically manhandled and then deserted by his best friends.

John presents things a little differently. He notes that not only do the religious big wigs come to arrest Jesus, but they bring with them a speira, or band of some 600 soldiers. 

Jesus, "knowing all that was going to happen, asked them, 'Whom do you seek?' and they said 'Jesus of Nazareth.' And he said to them, 'Ego eimi,' 'I am'" - which is the same titled used in Greek for Yahweh.

Upon hearing this, the crowd "drew back and fell to the ground." Another round of this takes place, sans the falling, and then Jesus instructs the crowd to let his disciples go and he is "arrested and tied up."

Comparing these two events may lead us to ask how the arrest actually took place. But that's the wrong question. The fact that the event took place is probably a better concern. After that we might ask: Why did the authors present their versions the way they did?

When we ask that, we find that Mark more than likely wrote to a persecuted community and presents Jesus as one who suffers, is rejected and left all alone. He, through the Spirit of God, presented Jesus in a way that most fit the needs of his community. He presented a Jesus they could relate to.

John on the other hand, views the events of Jesus' life through the lens of the resurrected Christ. This is why Jesus knows the future in John, and seems so incredibly in control. That's because after the resurrection the community realized who Jesus actually was. He was Yahweh in human form.

The unique angle of these stories tells us something about the heart of God: he is incredibly concerned about meeting us right where we are. That's why there are four gospels, each meeting our needs in different ways, at different times. 

Messiahs Don't Die

An empty tomb

There was tremendous messianic expectation in Israel during the time of Jesus. The Jews had been living under foreign rule for the better part of five hundred years, and they were ready for deliverance. 

Their Temple, an institution designed to protect the oppressed, was now the chief proponent of oppression.

Those who scoured the pages of the Hebrew Scriptures, put together a list of attributes they expected the messiah to have, and for all intensive purposes, Jesus didn't fulfill any of them.

Sure he healed some people and had a couple picnics where he fed some large crowds,  but he didn't do one very important thing: expel the Romans and restore the kingdom of Israel.

To make matters worse, he was killed, in a brutal and shameful public execution, by the very people he was supposed to magnificently overthrow. The tragedy at this point for his followers, was that once he died, he ceased being the messiah altogether (Lk 24.21).

New creation

But that's not where the story ends: Jesus resurrects, not just coming back to life, but coming back to new life (2 Cor 5.17).

Almost all Jews in Jesus' day believed in an event at the end of time, where all who had died would be resurrected and judged, and God would start a new creation (Jn 11.24).

But no one expected it would happen in the middle of history.

But it did, inaugurating an age where God's saving rule became the new reality, providing an opportunity for all people to partner with him as he reclaims, restores, and renews all of creation. 

E la Nave Va

E la nave va

This image has always inspired me. I love the sheer absurdity of a man rowing a boat across the open ocean, accompanied by a rhino. 

The title of the image, E la nave va, means "and the ship goes," and for me represents overcoming insurmountable odds. When I look at it, I feel I can do anything.

An image from Revelation 5 evokes a similar emotion in me. There, the author paints a picture of a scene in heaven, where the continuation of history is dependent upon finding someone worthy enough to open a certain book. 

But no one is found, and so the author begins to cry. Just then someone encourages him, saying, "Do not weep. See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the book." 

The Lion of Judah (Gen 49.9) and the root of David (Isaiah 11.1, 10) are titles for the Messiah; Jesus is the one who can open the book. But where is he?

The last time Revelation saw Jesus he was pictured as the intimidating transcendent ruler of the cosmos, one who holds the stars in his hand and whose face is as bright as the noon day sun.

That is the Jesus the reader expects to show up, but what happens next is astonishing.

The author sees a baby lamb, "looking as if it had been slaughtered," who comes and opens the book and history continues moving forward. 

For readers of Revelation, this image is paramount: it is not military strength that conquers, it is the slaughtered baby lamb. Christianity is based on the claim that life comes through surrender and giving of life, and not by taking it.

The imagery serves to express the reality that although it may not look like God is winning the battle against the forces of evil, the battle has already been won.

And not by a mighty army, but by the death and resurrection of God, that conquered all that death and the powers of evil could throw at him.

A Story Worth Living

Mark has a story to tell and he wants to tell it quickly. The gospel attributed to Mark is the shortest of the four gospels and almost has a rushed sense to it. 

This is helped by Mark's use of a phrase that is often omitted in translation for more natural reading: "and immediately" (Gk. kai euthus):  

"and immediately Jesus went into the wilderness....and immediately they leave their nets and follow him....and immediately his fame spread" and on and on. 

The frantic pace of gospel leads to such an abrupt ending, that the early church felt the need to add to it, attempting to bring the work to a more satisfactory completion.  Two attempts were made at this, but the most natural ending is the original in 16.8.

The original ending leaves the reader on the edge of their seat, waiting for the next act to unfold. But the next act is not to be read, it is to be experienced. The reader is to live out the next act. 

Nero

Many feel the tempo of Mark reflects the situation of his readers, who were more than likely Roman Christians who had experienced persecution under Nero.

The themes within the gospel of conflict, and failure to side with Jesus during trials, also give credence to this theory.

Mark is a perfect gospel for the overly busy individual who doesn't have time to read the Bible. But if one were to make time, the best way to read Mark is straight through.

That is where the humor, irony, tension, and passion, come together most potently, all in an attempt to convince the reader that this story is worth telling. And even more, that this story is worth living.

Beware

Widow's mite

Beware of religious people. Jesus is in Jerusalem investigating the religious institution there and he doesn't like what he sees (Mark 12-13). 

He sees the religious leaders dressing and acting in ways that draw attention to themselves and away from the injustices they are purveying.

Jesus notes that they crave wealth so much that they "devour widows' houses." The term "widow" is used in the Bible to represent an entire class of underprivileged people, those who are the most vulnerable and lacking in power and access to resources. 

See Exod 22:22-24; Deut 10:18; 24:17-21; 26:12-13; 27:19; Isa 1:17; 9:17; Jer 7:6; 22:3; 49:11; Zech 7:10; James 1:27; and 1 Tim 5:3, for examples of how serious God is about us caring for the marginalized.

Just as Jesus is commenting on the religious leaders' oppression of the poor, a number of rich people come and give large sums to the corrupt temple treasury. In the midst of them a poor widow comes and gives two copper coins, or about a penny. 

The widow making her offering.

Jesus tells his followers, "this poor widow gave more than all the others. They gave out of their wealth and she out of her poverty has given everything."

The Greek word used for what she gave is bios, "life" - she literally gave all she had to live on.

This passage is often used as an example of proper stewardship in relation to giving. But that's not what's going on here. 

Jesus is lamenting the widow's mistreatment under the corrupt temple structure; a structure that keeps her in poverty. She is a tragic example of a religious system that takes advantage of the very people most in need of its help.

The question for us is: Are our religious institutions protecting the most vulnerable members of our society? Or is there something inherent in the way we do things, that exploits the very people we are charged to protect?

Not Accorinding to Plan

Boat on the Sea of Galilee

Things don't always go as planned. In Mark 6, Jesus had just miraculously fed five thousand people, and before that had been giving sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, speech to the mute, and helping the lame walk.

But these had all been public events and involved people with whom he didn't have a close relationship. So Jesus comes up with an idea: he is going to show his best friends, the disciples, that he is connected to God like no one else.

He sends the disciples across the Sea of Galilee and goes off to pray. They struggle all night rowing their boat into the wind and just when they are most fatigued, Jesus comes effortlessly walking on the water beside them.

Mark tells us that Jesus "intended to pass them by," which is kind of frustrating because they could have used some fresh arms for rowing, but Jesus had different plans. "Pass them by" is the same phrase used in Exodus 33.17ff where Yahweh shows Moses his glory by "passing him by."

Unfortunately things don't go so well for Jesus. As he is passing the disciples by, they see him and freak out, thinking he is a ghost. Jesus allays their panic and says "Don't be afraid, it is I." The Greek phrase Mark uses is ego eimi, "I am," which is the Greek translation of Yahweh from Exodus 3:14.

W.O.W.: only for special circumstances.

But announcing he was there wasn't enough, so Jesus gets into the boat with them. He saw that they weren't ready to step toward him and see him for whom he was, so he steps toward them.

They hadn't figured out that he was God manifest as a human; doing the things only God had historically done for his people: feeding them in the wilderness, healing, sustaining, providing life giving teaching, and showing them his glory.

If Jesus' best friends, those who witnessed everything he did, had a hard time believing, how much harder is it for us? But that's OK. Jesus doesn't push it. He puts some things on hold he had been planning and gets into the boat, meeting us right where we are. 

The Virgin

 Gozzoli, 1450.

Mary was a virgin. This is what the gospel author Matthew wants to communicate. Matthew anchors the Jesus story in the Hebrew Scriptures, and in Mt 1.23, as he describes Mary's miraculous conception, he quotes a passage from Isaiah 7.14: 

"Look, the virgin (Gk. parthenos) shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Immanuel."

Some argue that the Isaiah passage does not refer to a virgin, because it uses the word almah, "young woman," instead of the more common Hebrew term for "virgin," bethulah. 

They would note that Matthew uses the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures, which translates almah with parthenos - a technical term for virgin, instead of translating directly from the Hebrew.

The Septuagint

The argument is heated, but there is not as much at stake as one might originally think. Matthew was recording a historical event and wanted to anchor it within the context of his community's authoritative scriptures. 

Whether or not Isaiah was referring to a virgin, or a young woman, or a young woman who was a virgin, is irrelevant. Matthew, while not discounting the original context of Isaiah 7.14, is telling his community what the text means for them NOW. 

The struggle for the modern day reader is to live in the tension of a passage that referred to a specific historical situation (the events of Isaiah's day) but was malleable enough to be applied to another historical event, the birth of Jesus, that occurred over 700 years later. 

On this eve, that commemorates the ultimate Imma-nu-el, lit. "with us is God," we reflect on God's saving activity both past and present, and thank God for the historical reality of the birth that brought restoration and life, to a broken and dying world.