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Luke 2
ОглавлениеBirth of Jesus (2:1–20)
When Gabriel announced the supernatural births of John and Jesus, Jesus’ superiority over John was already evident in the description of each child’s status and role.47 The same pattern is found in the account of each birth. For instance, the author locates John’s birth “in the days of King Herod of Judea” (1:5), but places Jesus’ birth on a much wider religio-political platform during the reign of Augustus Caesar and the governorship of Quirinius (2:1). Whereas friends and relatives spread the miraculous happenings surrounding John’s birth through the human grapevine (1:65), an angel announces the birth of Jesus (2:9). Over and above the Spirit-filled Zechariah who interprets the significance of John’s birth and prophesies over his newborn son (1:67–79), angelic hosts now declare the heavenly and earthly implications of the coming of God’s Son (1:13–14). Luke clearly elevates the status of Jesus above that of John. He includes details of Jesus’ dedication at the temple and the child’s return twelve years later. While John and Jesus are both key players in God’s plan of salvation, there is no mistaking the lesser as the greater, or confusing the forerunner with the long-awaited Messiah.48
Augustus Caesar, born Gaius Octavian, was the first of twelve Caesars in the Roman Empire of the first century. He was the grandnephew of Julius Caesar, who adopted him and made him his heir. After the assassination of Julius Caesar in 44 BCE, the Roman Republic crumbled until Octavian persevered over his rivals, unified the empire in 31 BCE, and inaugurated the golden era of the Pax Romana (“Roman Peace”). In 27 BCE, the Roman Senate conferred upon him the honorific title of Augustus, which not only meant eminent and majestic, but was suggestive of something numinous.49 After the posthumous deification of Julius Caesar, Augustus assumed the title Divi Filius (“son of the divine” or “son of a god”), paving the way for his own veneration in the imperial cult. Augustus died in 14 CE and was succeeded by his stepson Tiberius.50
Setting the birth of Israel’s king against the backdrop of Augustus’s reign, Luke makes a bold theological and political statement. There are ample literary, numismatic, archaeological, and inscriptional records to show that the titles “Savior,” “Ruler” (“Imperator”), “Son of God,” and “Father of the Fatherland” had all been used of Augustus.51 For us modern readers, when the angel refers to Jesus as “Savior” and “Lord” (2:11), we are reminded of God as “Savior” and “Lord” in the OT. But in the first century, every proclamation of Jesus in royal and divine terms could be construed as an act of sedition against the Roman emperor.
Excursus: Quirinius’s Census
The account of Jesus’ birth begins with Joseph and Mary traveling to Bethlehem as required by a census under the decree of Augustus (2:1–5). The reference to this census has presented a number of challenges. Although the Romans were known for keeping good historical records, scholars have yet to unearth any evidence of an empire-wide census ordered by Augustus within the time frame in question. In Matthew, Jesus was born before the death of Herod the Great in 4 BCE. The census in Luke, however, would have placed the birth of Jesus no earlier than 6 or 7 CE, within a small window of time during which Quirinius served as governor of Syria. Surely Jesus could not have been born both before 4 BCE and after 6 CE! Even if we assume Luke’s date to be erroneous, so that the census was actually conducted earlier under the kingship of Herod the Great and not the governorship of Quirinius, to what extent would Roman practices have influenced the administration of Judea, which at the time of Herod was still a client kingdom not yet annexed into the Roman Empire? Could Quirinius have had a wider realm of authority before his appointment in Syria, so that an earlier Herodian census could have been associated with his office? Could Herod have offended Augustus so that a Roman census was imposed on Herod’s territory to assert Roman dominance? Coming at it from a textual-grammatical point of view, could the adjective pro-te- in 2:2 be understood, not as “the first registration [that] was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria,” as in first among several censuses, but that “the registration [was] taken before Quirinius was governor of Syria” a few years earlier? The second translational option for pro-te-, “before Quirinius,” might resolve the awkward presence of that ten-year stretch between 4 BCE and 6 CE in which Jesus could not have been born, but the question still remains as to whether or not Quirinius administered that census that coincided with the birth of Jesus.
The problem goes beyond a matter of dating to the actual practice of census-taking. The Romans counted people based on principal residency rather than ancestral origin. Could a Herodian census be conducted differently from a Roman census? Did regional customs come into play? That Joseph has to be registered in person in Bethlehem rather than in Nazareth may imply that he owns property in his ancestral town, necessitating his going back there to be counted as head of the household. Even so, is Mary’s presence mandatory? Her accompaniment on the journey may mean that the betrothal period is over, and they are traveling as a married pair. And if not, then being with Joseph may still be preferable to enduring the gossips alone in Nazareth as her pregnancy becomes visible.
Questions abound, and each hypothesis comes with assumptions.52 Due to gaps in historical knowledge, it is doubtful that an airtight reconstruction of the timing of Jesus’ birth that perfectly reconciles the accounts in both Matthew and Luke is possible. The historical questions are interesting, but there must be a more constructive way to honor Luke’s aim at presenting a narrative that proclaims the truth about Jesus without writing him off as an incompetent historian!
Whereas historical questions at this point are difficult to resolve, considering Luke’s storytelling from a theological point of view casts a different light on the account. The census, a negative symbol and painful reminder of subjugation, is mentioned four times in the first five verses. When Augustus became emperor, he reinstituted the census system as part of an empire-wide administrative reform to formalize taxation and military service. While the Jews were exempt from serving in the Roman army, they were not excused from taxes. The decree in 2:1 might refer to an overarching imperial order, so that Roman officials could use Augustus’s edict to justify their regional or provincial censuses.
Although it cannot be ascertained if the census that affected Joseph and Mary was the one Quirinius conducted in 6 CE, that census was especially infamous as the census of shame and coerced loyalty. It marked the turning point at which Judea fell under the direct control of Rome without the buffer of a Jewish client kingdom. The Herodian monarchs were cruel, corrupt, and pro-Rome, but they were still not Romans. Paying taxes to Herod stung less than paying taxes to Caesar. But with the deposition of Herod Archelaus, Quirinius’s census signaled the definitive defeat of the Jews, putting an end to any lingering vestige of Jewish autonomy. This was a difficult pill to swallow.53
Precisely because Augustus and Quirinius represented Israel’s subjugation under Roman hegemony, their naming in Jesus’ birth narrative (2:1–2) is central to Luke’s daring literary strategy. Mary is pregnant as she embarks on this journey to Judea (2:5–6). The couple returns to Joseph’s city of origin, “the city of David called Bethlehem” (2:4). Luke’s interest in David and Joseph lies primarily in their blood ties (1:27). Bethlehem, about five miles south of Jerusalem, is “the city of David” insofar as it is where David was born and where Samuel anointed him as king (1 Sam 16:1–13; 17:12, 58).54 Through Joseph, Jesus can legitimately be considered a Davidic Messiah, a king born and anointed in the city of David (1:32; 2:11; cf. 3:23, 31). As perfect timing and location converge, even powerful Augustus becomes an unwitting instrument of the divine plan. The census that signifies oppression serves to locate the mother of Jesus in the right city at the right time, so that Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem fulfills the prophecy of Micah: “But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah, . . . from you shall come forth for me one who is to rule in Israel” (Mic 5:2; cf. Matt 1:6).
After a journey of about three days, Mary and Joseph arrive in Bethlehem. At this point the typical scene in a modern-day Christmas pageant of one heartless innkeeper after another turning away a desperate Joseph with a wife in labor in the thick of night requires a major re-envisioning. A close reading of Luke reveals a scene that is less chaotic and a point that has more to do with status reversal than with inhospitality and rejection.
Mary goes into labor (2:6), but “there was no place for them in the inn (katalyma)” (2:7c NRSV). The translation of katalyma as “inn” is misleading, for the word has a wider range of meaning, from an inn to a guest room of a house. Since Bethlehem is not located on any main travel thoroughfare, that small town may not even have a commercial lodging place. Later in the narrative Jesus sends his disciples to a guest room (katalyma) to make preparations for the Passover meal (22:11). But a different word, pandocheion, is used to denote an inn with an innkeeper (pandocheus) with whom the Samaritan in Jesus’ parable leaves the injured man (10:34–35). It seems likely that Joseph and Mary have found shelter at the home of a relative, not that they have been going from inn to inn looking for vacancy.55
Modest peasant homes in the ancient world consisted of one large room for living and sleeping, with an adjacent area at a lower level under the same roof where animals were kept when brought in for the night. A cave could also be used to shelter animals. Perhaps, due to overcrowding, the host family has run out of guest quarters and the only place the relatives can offer Mary and Joseph is space with the animals (2:7c). The couple is not turned away—as implied in many Christmas plays—but is shown hospitality in spite of the humble circumstances. A manger (phatnē), or more crudely, a feeding trough, is improvised as a crib for the baby Jesus. Mary wraps her infant in long strips of bandages to keep his arms and legs from moving and to provide a sense of warmth and security (Wis 7:4). While a baby bound in swaddling cloth is a common sight, one sleeping in a manger is not. This unusual combination makes an effective sign for the shepherds to recognize the Messiah (2:7b, 12, 16).
The child is Mary’s firstborn son (2:7a). This particularity signifies birth order as well as responsibility and status. The law stipulates that the firstborn of human beings and animals are to be dedicated to God (2:23; cf. Exod 13:2, 12; 34:19–20). The firstborn son is also entitled to a double portion of his father’s inheritance (Deut 21:15–17). Similarly, Israel is identified as God’s firstborn on the basis of their election (Exod 4:22; Jer 31:9; Sir 36:17). Therefore, it is fitting for Mary’s firstborn, the Son of God and Davidic Messiah, to rule over and represent Israel, God’s firstborn, with all its privileges and obligations.
From one humble situation to another, the author moves the spotlight from the manger to the open fields where some shepherds are “keeping watch over their flock by night” (2:8). Shepherding was a despised profession in the ancient world. Shepherds were often poor peasants who hired themselves out to earn supplemental income to support their families.56 They worked in teams and took turns keeping watch at night, being on the lookout for wolves and thieves. The angel’s appearance to these shepherds echoes the theme of status reversal already sounded in Mary’s song (1:48, 52). The first to hear of Jesus’ birth will not be the religious and political powerbrokers in Jerusalem, but a group of forgotten and lowly hired hands in the lonely fields of a small town.
It may be worth noting that David started off as a shepherd caring for his father’s sheep in Bethlehem (1 Sam 16:19; 17:15; Ps 78:70–71). In the OT, shepherd is a metaphor for describing God’s care and oversight of his people (Pss 23:1; 80:1; Ezek 34:12–16; Mic 7:14). Furthermore, Israel’s kings and religious leaders were also tasked to shepherd God’s flock. Since many failed to do so properly (Jer 23:2; Ezek 34:8), God said he would remove the bad shepherds and send a replacement shepherd, that is, the Messiah, to rule over Israel on his behalf (Ezek 34:23; 37:24). These connections make the announcement to shepherds, rather than farmers, day laborers, or other forms of peasantry, especially poignant. The proclamation that these shepherds are about to hear pertains to God’s eschatological shepherd, a king from the line of David, who may also be found, like themselves, in a humble state, lying in a manger in a peasant home.57
Dazzling brightness signifies the presence of God’s glory when an angel appears before the shepherds (2:9). The scene enacts the conclusion of Zechariah’s hymn, literally and spiritually: “The dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness” (1:78–79). When light pierces through darkness, it is sudden, illuminating, and terrifying. The shepherds’ frightened response is expected as the angel greets them with the same words spoken to Zechariah and Mary: “Do not be afraid” (2:10a; cf. 1:12–13, 29–30). Then he continues, “For behold, I am bringing you good news (euangelizomai) of great joy for all the people” (2:10b). The same verb, euangelizō, is used in Isaiah to denote the good news of God’s salvation (Isa 52:7; cf. 40:9; 61:1–2). The phrase, “for all the people,” foreshadows the expansion of God’s saving horizon from the Jews to the gentiles (2:30–32; 3:6; Acts 1:8). Israel’s good news is destined to be good news for the whole world.
The content of the good news is focused on one figure: “to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord” (2:11). The wait is over. God’s promise to Israel’s ancestors has come to fulfillment with the arrival of the Davidic Messiah. Savior, Messiah, and Lord—these three titles encapsulate the function and status of Jesus. He is the “horn of salvation” in Zechariah’s hymn (1:69–71); he shares the title “Savior” and “Lord” with YHWH;58 he is also the Messiah, the anointed king born in “the city of David” who belongs to the house of David and will sit on the throne of David forever (1:32–33, 69). Luke’s readers already know this Messiah is God’s divine Son. Paradoxically, the sign that verifies the truth of the angel’s words is “a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger” (2:12). Instead of a heaven-sent warrior on horseback, ready to annihilate the Romans, the Savior-Messiah-Lord enters the human stage as an infant gurgling in an animal feeder.
To the bright light we now add the collective voices of the attendants of God in a heavenly chorus. The angel is joined by “a multitude of the heavenly host (stratias) praising God” (2:13). The Greek word stratia, often translated as “host,” also means “army.” YHWH is a mighty warrior (1:51–52; cf. 10:18), thus the sending of the Davidic Messiah is both good news and the battle cry of God’s salvation.59 The angels sing of the effects of the Messiah’s birth, that God in heaven is glorified and exalted, and people on earth experience true peace (2:14). Recalling Zechariah’s prophecy, this Savior will guide “our feet into the way of peace” (1:79). This peace does not mean cessation or absence of war and strife, but reconciliation between God and those who receive by faith his gracious gift of salvation through Jesus. God’s peace will have its ultimate expression when God’s reign is manifested in the eschaton, so that life in that blessed eternity will be characterized by perfect security, harmony, abundance, and health. The coming of the Messiah is the beginning of a journey with eternal peace as its destination.
The Greek phrase, en anthrōpois eudokias, introduces some ambiguity (2:14b). Translated word for word, it reads “among men of goodwill (or favor).” Whose goodwill or whose favor is in view? On the one hand, human beings are blessed only because God bestows his favor upon them, as Elizabeth and Mary have testified (1:25, 48). On the other hand, the recipients of God’s blessings have to demonstrate an attitude of goodwill to be ready to receive God’s benign intervention (1:17, 77). In the end, God’s initiative meets human response to actualize eternal peace between both parties. Because God’s initiative always comes first, human responsiveness presupposes divine favor. Therefore, 2:14b is better rendered as “peace on earth among the people whom God has favored.”60
The angel departs, leaving the shepherds to decide what to do with what they have just seen and heard (2:15). Like Mary, they proceed with haste to follow the sign (2:12, 16; cf. 1:36, 39). When they find Mary, Joseph, and the infant, they relate everything that has been told to them, which Mary treasures and ponders in her heart (2:17, 19–20). The three-stepped pattern of hearing, seeing, and repeating the message becomes the means of bearing witness to the good news, from the shepherds to Mary and Joseph, and to others who are present.
Hearing or reading the story of Jesus’ birth, Theophilus and his community would probably notice subtle similarities with common inscriptions or writings concerning Augustus. For example, below is an inscription concerning Augustus’s birthday (italics mine):
Since Providence which has ordered all things and is deeply interested in our life, has set in most perfect order by giving us Augustus, whom she filled with virtue that he might benefit humankind, sending him as a savior, both for us and for our descendants, that he might end war and arrange all things, and since he, Caesar, by his appearance, surpassing all previous benefactors, and not even leaving to posterity any hope of surpassing what he has done, and since the birthday of the god Augustus was the beginning of the good news for the world that came by reason of him . . .61
Worldwide salvation, benefaction, and peace are attributed to Augustus, a suprahuman-like emperor sent by Providence as a gift to humankind. Is Luke’s description of Jesus’ birth intentionally polemical against the laudatory praise of Augustus? How will Jesus, Israel’s Savior-Messiah-Lord, compare with Rome’s Savior-God? Will Jesus’ kingdom be set on a collision course with Caesar’s empire? Luke’s readers are invited to contemplate such possibilities by holding in tension the welcome of Israel’s Savior on the one hand, and his rejection on the other.
Dedication of Jesus at the Temple (2:21–40)
A male child would normally be named before his circumcision on the eighth day, but Luke reports the two as a single event both with John and with Jesus (1:59; 2:21). “[The child] was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb” (2:21). God the Father, not Jesus’ earthly parents, names his Son “Jesus,” as implied by the passive voice of the verb. The name, meaning “YHWH saves,” is exactly what Jesus will come to embody and actualize.
A woman remains ceremonially unclean for seven days after giving birth to a boy (Lev 12:2). On the eighth day the infant is circumcised (Gen 17:12; Lev 12:3). His mother’s state of purification continues for thirty-three days, during which she may neither enter the temple nor come in contact with holy things. At the end of her purification period, she offers a lamb for a burnt offering and a pigeon or turtledove for a sin offering. For the poor, another turtledove or pigeons may take the place of the lamb (Lev 5:11; 12:1–8). In general, Luke’s account reflects closely the stipulations of the law except for two minor details (2:22–24). Only Mary, the mother, is in need of purification, but Luke speaks of “their purification,” perhaps because both she and Joseph are present. Also, the couple brings Jesus to the temple on the eighth day for his circumcision, but the sacrifice is supposed to be made weeks later upon the completion of Mary’s days of purification. It is not clear if the deviation from Leviticus stems from the author’s storytelling or changes to traditional practices in the first century. But one thing is clear: Jesus’ parents are law-abiding Jews even though they have modest means.
Every Israelite firstborn, whether human or animal, is consecrated to God (Exod 13:2; Neh 10:35–36). The notion of redeeming the firstborn is not in view here, as nothing is said of Jesus’ parents paying the priest any redemption price (Num 18:15–16). Rather, the presentation of Jesus at the temple parallels Hannah’s dedication of Samuel to the service of the Lord when she brought him to Eli the priest (1 Sam 1:24–28). While Jesus is not offered for lifelong priestly service, God has already laid claim on his life. Luke’s reference to the law, “Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord” (2:23), recalls Gabriel’s words to Mary, “the child to be born will be holy” (1:35), for indeed Jesus is conceived by the Holy Spirit and set apart for God’s service.
The next two scenes are complementary (2:25–38). Like Zechariah and Mary, Simeon and Anna form a male-female pairing to bear witness to the purposes of God.62 Both are depicted as pious and steadfast before God. While Simeon is explicitly stated as having the Holy Spirit resting on him (2:25–27), the work of the Spirit on Anna is implied, since she is a prophetess (2:36). Simeon is righteous and devout (2:25), and Anna, throughout her widowhood, “never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day” (2:37). Both of them hold fast to the promises of God by aligning themselves with those who are waiting patiently for the consolation of Israel and the redemption of Jerusalem (2:25, 38; cf. 23:51; Isa 52:9; 66:13).
The meeting between Simeon and Jesus’ family is orchestrated by the Holy Spirit (2:27), the fulfillment of a revelation from the Spirit to Simeon that he will see the Lord’s Messiah during his lifetime (2:26, 29).63 Holding Jesus in his arms, Simeon praises God and expresses his readiness to die, for God’s salvation, embodied in the person of the Messiah, has finally arrived (2:28–29). The verb apoluō, which means “to dismiss” or “to release,” is a double-entendre. On the one hand, it is a euphemism for death. God can now release Simon and let him die in peace. On the other hand, God the master is dismissing Simeon because the servant’s task of waiting for God’s salvation is now accomplished (2:29).
The vocabulary and themes in the next three verses are drawn heavily from Isaiah 40–66. Looking at the baby Jesus, Simeon declares, “My eyes have seen your salvation” (2:30; cf. Isa 51:5–8; 52:10; 56:1). Jesus is not merely the bringer or agent of God’s salvation; he is God’s salvation personified. He will embody God’s saving actions in his person—in life and in death, in word and in action.
Even as faithful Jews are waiting for Israel’s Messiah, ultimately God’s salvation has been “prepared in the presence of all peoples” (2:31; cf. 2:10; 3:6). For the gentiles, the Savior will be a light that illumes the darkness, the spiritual blindness, in which those who do not know God find themselves (2:32a; Isa 42:6–7). Israel was supposed to be a light to the nations, so that through Israel’s witness the nations might come to know YHWH and be saved (Isa 49:6). Israel, however, failed to live up to this role, which will be fulfilled completely and perfectly by Jesus. Yet there is still a sense that salvation will go to the gentiles through the agency of Israel. The gospel will be preached to those outside of Israel by Jesus’ followers who are themselves Jews, from Jerusalem to Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth (Acts 1:8).
There is a hint of irony for the gentiles to be mentioned before the Jews (2:32b). Be that as it may, the people of Israel already know God, so the coming of the Messiah is not so much for their illumination as it is for their glory (Isa 46:13). Glory connotes the sense of honor and revelation. Israel will share in the Messiah’s glory, a glory that will only be fully appropriated with the inclusion of the gentiles, something that faithful Israel must learn to do (Acts 9:15; 10:45; 11:18).
Mary and Joseph are amazed by Simeon’s words, which necessitate further pondering (2:33; cf. 2:19, 50–51). Simeon’s pronouncement about Jesus provides the lens through which Jesus’ life must be interpreted, but full understanding lies yet in the future. Then, addressing Mary in particular, Simeon portends future conflict that leaves her, and the readers, with a sense of foreboding. Opposition will come from within God’s people: “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many of Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed” (2:34). Signs point beyond themselves and are made to be followed, so to oppose a sign defeats the purpose of having a sign in the first place. The Messiah will point the way forward for Israel, but he will receive a mixed reception. Some will heed the sign and rise while others will refuse to follow and stumble (Isa 8:14–15). Those who reject God will fall, and their inner thoughts and hypocrisy will be exposed. In the end, it will become clear who will be judged and who will be blessed (2:35a; cf. 3:17).
The last thing that a mother would want to hear is that her firstborn child will encounter hostility, even to the point of death, as implied in Simeon’s last phrase, “and a sword will pierce your own soul too” (2:35b). Indeed, Mary will outlive Jesus and experience the deep anguish of a mother witnessing the death of her son. But this is the same Mary who responded to Gabriel, “Here I am, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word” (1:38). As she dedicates Jesus to God, is she able to relinquish her son’s life into God’s hand in total trust? As with the rest of Israel, the inner thoughts of Mary’s heart will undergo severe testing.
With Simeon’s words still hanging in the air, in comes Anna the prophetess. She is from the tribe of Asher, where Elijah the prophet preached (1 Kgs 17–18). Her father’s name, Phanuel, is the Greek form of the Hebrew Peniel/Penuel (“face of God”), which is the name Jacob gave to the place where he wrestled with the angel to commemorate his having “seen God face to face” (Gen 32:30–31). All these biographical details, together with the explicit identification of Anna as a prophetess, situate her squarely among the recipients of God’s revelation. By her piety she bears witness to this special heritage and identity.64
Although Luke does not record Anna’s exact words (2:38), we may assume that her praise to God is congruent with those of Mary, Zechariah, and Simeon. While the description of Anna’s constant presence at the temple may be a bit of an exaggeration in the literal sense, it is not in Luke’s estimation of her faithfulness and credibility. This is brought out in the detailed description of her old age and personal circumstances (2:36–37). The Greek here suggests that Anna is either eighty-four years old, or that she has been a widow for eighty-four years after seven years of marriage, which puts her at a ripe old age of 105 if she married at the age of fourteen!65 Regardless of whether she is eighty-four or 105, Anna the prophetess has a lifelong track record of devotion to God that earns her a rightful place in the narrative.66 Together with Zechariah, Elizabeth, and Mary, Simeon and Anna complete the chorus of faithful voices in Israel, and their convictions about God’s faithfulness and promises place the story of Jesus at an exciting edge of anticipation.
This section closes with an affirmation, for the fifth time, of Mary’s and Joseph’s adherence to the law (2:39; cf. 2:22, 23, 24, 27). The family returns to Galilee and settles in Nazareth, where Joseph has already made a home (2:39; cf. 2:4). The first summary statement of Jesus’ physical, mental, and spiritual growth functions as a bridge between infancy to late childhood (2:40). It will be followed by another enhanced statement after the account of the twelve-year-old Jesus at the temple (2:52). One might consider 2:40 and 2:52 as forming an inclusio around the next pericope, but it seems fitting to close this section with verse 40, “the favor of God was upon him,” in light of the heavy emphasis of God’s favor upon the faithful ones of Israel thus far in the narrative.
Jesus at Twelve (2:41–52)
Childhood stories of heroes are not uncommon in ancient literature. Authors and biographers believed that the paths and attendant traits that made certain characters great in adulthood were already latent in their youth. For example, Josephus, the Jewish historian, claimed that Samuel began to prophesy at the age of twelve (Ant. 5.348) and that Josiah began instituting reforms in Israel when he was twelve (Ant. 10.50). Elsewhere in Greco-Roman writings, famous figures like Alexander the Great, Epicurus, Apollonius of Tyana, and Cyrus were all seen as child prodigies who had the acumen and prowess that made them productive and powerful later in life.67 Listening to an account of Jesus as a child, Luke’s readers are primed to look for clues that will help them imagine what Jesus will be like as an adult.
Jesus’ parents have a habit of making an annual trip to Jerusalem to observe the Passover, so this year is no different (2:41–42). Jewish men were required to attend three annual pilgrimage feasts, namely, Passover, Pentecost, and Tabernacles (Exod 23:14–17).68 For many Jews, going to Jerusalem three times a year would pose a hardship. Still, the feasts were well attended. These pilgrimages soon became a family affair as women and children went up to Jerusalem as well.69 Traveling with other families as a group reduced costs and provided protection from robbers along the way (2:44).70 There is no indication that this is Jesus’ first return to Jerusalem since his presentation as an infant. We assume that Mary and Joseph have been bringing him with them for some time already.71 At twelve, Jesus is a year shy of entering the religious community officially but old enough to appreciate the significance of Passover.
Nothing unusual occurred during the feast. It is afterwards that Mary and Joseph lose track of Jesus. The text never addresses why Jesus does not tell his parents his whereabouts. Neither is it necessary to charge the couple with negligence. Since Jesus is no longer a toddler and should be fully capable of keeping up with the group traveling together, it seems reasonable for Mary and Joseph to assume that he is within the proximity of the moving caravan, playing with other children among the relatives. In this manner they travel for an entire day northward, covering about twenty miles. Perhaps they finally notice his absence by evening when the group settles down for the night. Letting the caravan continue on its way the next day, Mary and Joseph retrace their steps and hurry back to Jerusalem. Imagine the difficulty of going “against traffic,” trying to move toward Jerusalem when hordes of pilgrims are coming out of the city. Added to the exhaustion of travel for the couple from a small village is the anxiety of trying to find their firstborn son in a large city. We can appreciate Mary’s and Joseph’s frame of mind, a mixture of exasperation and relief, when on the third day since their original departure from Jerusalem they finally locate their son in the temple (2:43–46a).
At this point, the reader may be tempted to dive into the interchange between Mary and Jesus. Instead, the author focuses first on what Jesus is doing, to make sure that an important point is not overshadowed by the emotions of the reunion. Jesus is engaged in active conversation with a group of teachers, listening to them and asking questions in return (2:46b). They are probably discussing the fine points of the law. Even at twelve, Jesus impresses the teachers with his acumen and depth of understanding (cf. 2:40). The teachers of the law do not know that Jesus is the Son of God and Israel’s Messiah, but the readers do. Isaiah speaks of the shoot from the stump of Jesse as being imbued with God’s Spirit of wisdom, understanding, counsel, and knowledge (Isa 11:1–4).72 While these teachers may find this precocious young man delightful, next time Jesus is shown to be in discussion with other learned elites at the temple, those teachers will not be amused (19:47—21:38).
An astute reader may wonder how Jesus managed for two days on his own. Was he allowed to stay at the temple? Did someone take him in for the night? Did he think about his family? Was he scared? These questions may very well have crossed Mary’s and Joseph’s minds while searching for Jesus. But when they are finally reunited with him, the first thing that comes out of his mother’s mouth is a note of rebuke: “Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety!” (2:48).73 It is Mary who speaks on behalf of both of them. Luke continues to de-emphasize Joseph’s role even though he is acknowledged to be Mary’s husband and Jesus’ adoptive earthly father.
Jesus’ response addresses the issue of who his father is and to whom he owes primary allegiance. His first counter-question, “Why were you searching for me?” (2:49a), may be heard as an expression of genuine surprise or a tinge of gentle reproach. Without the tone of his voice, it is difficult to tell if the young Jesus is really that oblivious of Mary’s and Joseph’s parental concern.
The second counter-question is more telling, “Did you not know that I must be en tois tou patros mou” (2:49b)? The word-for-word translation of en tois tou patros mou is “in/among/about the [something] of my father.” Both the preposition en and the dative article tois are grammatically ambiguous, especially when the noun that follows the article is not provided. There are three options. First, most English versions use “in my Father’s house” because Jesus is physically found in the temple precincts.74 The temple is where God’s presence resides, hence the house of God (Ps 11:4; Hab 2:20). Jesus is asking his parents a rhetorical question: “Isn’t it obvious that of all the places in Jerusalem I ought to be right here in the temple?” Jesus’ answer states the obvious but does not explain why he did what he did. The second option, “I must be about the affairs of my Father,”75 implies that the discussion with the teachers of the law is part and parcel of Jesus being involved in God’s work and mission. This rendering enhances the first option without contradicting it. Jesus is in the temple engaged in conversations about God’s law with the officers of the temple. This makes sense because as Israel’s Messiah he will be embodying God’s salvation and interpreting the precepts of God to God’s people. There is yet a third possibility: “I must be among those who belong to my Father.” While this translation is grammatically acceptable, the meaning is too vague to be useful.
I suggest we take advantage of the grammatical ambiguity and allow for a nuanced interpretation of Jesus’ answer that combines the first two options. On one level, Jesus has to be found in the temple because this is where he is doing God’s work, engaging the teachers in the matters of the law. On another level, Jesus is compelled to align himself with the affairs and purposes of his heavenly Father, even at the cost of causing emotional upheaval for his earthly parents. The Greek verb, dei (“it is necessary”), is frequently used in Luke’s Gospel to denote a divine necessity that something must happen as God’s plan unfolds.76
Their knowledge of Jesus’ true origin notwithstanding, Mary and Joseph still have a hard time grasping the implications of their son’s words and actions (2:50). This incident marks a needed demarcation of Jesus’ loyalties. Priority must go to God the Father through whose Spirit Jesus was conceived in Mary’s womb. In light of God’s fatherhood, the place of Mary and Joseph must be relativized. Lest Jesus be misinterpreted as a smart-alecky and insubordinate young man, in the very next verse Luke assures his readers that Jesus returns to Nazareth with his parents and remains obedient to them (2:51a). Nevertheless, Mary continues her ruminations on all these matters, first the words of Simeon about the fate of her child (2:34–35), and now Jesus’ own assertion of God’s preeminent role as his Father, over and above that of her husband Joseph (2:51b).
One final summary statement brings the infancy narrative to a close. Similar to the earlier statement in 2:40, Jesus is said to grow in wisdom and in hēlikia, which can be translated either as “age” or “stature” (2:52).77 The former coheres with the increase in wisdom along the lines of his becoming “older and wiser,” whereas the latter echoes verse 40, “The child grew and became strong.” Either way, the resulting picture is the same. Jesus matures in body and in mind, and enjoys favor with God and with people. This trajectory will continue for almost two decades as the readers turn the page to chapter 3. John, now an adult, reappears on stage as the forerunner of the Messiah.
47. See p. 22.
48. See Kuhn 2001: 38–49.
49. Ferguson 2003: 26–30.
50. Grant 1975: 52–80.
51. An example of a Myrian inscription: “Divine Augustus Caesar, Son of a God, Imperator of land and sea, the Benefactor and Savior of the whole world” (Green 1997: 125).
52. Brown (1993: 412–18) provides a thorough discussion of the historical problem. Rist (2005: 489–91) postulates that Luke confused Quirinius with Quintilius Varus. A reference to the latter would have set the date of Jesus’ birth around 6 BCE, in line with the Matthean account given that Herod died in 4 BCE.
53. Garland 2012: 117–19.
54. “The city of David” can also point to Jerusalem (or Mount Zion), the capital from which King David ruled (2 Sam 5:7; 2 Chr 5:2).
55. Green 1997: 129; Marshall 1978: 107.
56. Harris 2012: 18–20.
57. Ibid., 27–30.
58. The title Kyrios (“Lord”) is applied to YHWH in 1:6, 9, 11, 15–16, 25, 28, 32, 38, 45–46, 58, 68, and to Jesus in 1:17, 43, 76. The title Sotēr (“Savior”) is applied to YHWH in 1:47, and to Jesus in 1:69 and 2:11.
59. Verbrugge 2008: 301–11.
60. The translation in the NKJV, “goodwill toward men,” reflects a textual variant that has eudokia (a nominative) instead of eudokias (a genitive). The genitive has stronger textual support among the more reliable manuscripts.
61. Priene Inscription (OGIS 458), cited in Evans 2005: 313. See also Porter 2000: 533.
62. See p. 66, n. 12.
63. The Greek participle kechrēmatismenon (2:26) carries a sense of command. Simeon is ordered by the Holy Spirit to recognize Jesus as the embodiment of God’s salvation. His role is to recognize and bear witness to Jesus. See Soards 1990: 403.
64. See García-Serrano 2014: 468–69 and Thurston 2001: 49–50.
65. If there is symbolism in the number 84, García-Serrano (2014: 470) notes that Anna “lived a perfect married life (seven years) and an even more perfect widowhood (seven times twelve years).”
66. Thurston 2001: 50–52.
67. Philostratus Vit. Apoll. 1.7 (Apollonius of Tyana); Plutarch Alex. 4.4—5.5 (Alexander); Diogenes Laertius 10.14 (Epicurus); Herodotus Hist. 1.114–16 (Cyrus). Billings (2009: 70–89) thinks that Luke’s inclusion of the childhood story of Jesus anticipates the presentation of the adult Jesus as superior to Augustus.
68. In Deut 16:16 these feasts are referred to as Unleavened Bread, Weeks, and Booths, respectively. Passover was immediately followed by the Feast of Unleavened Bread, which lasted a week (Lev 23:5–6; Deut 16:1–4). By the time of Jesus, the names of these two feasts were used interchangeably. See Ferguson 2003: 557–59.
69. Hannah went up to Jerusalem “year by year” with her husband Elkanah (1 Sam 1:3, 7, 21; 2:19), although the text does not specific which feast.
70. Keener 2014: 186.
71. According to the School of Hallel, younger children were permitted to attend the three pilgrimage feasts as long as they could hold their father’s hand and walk from Jerusalem up to the Temple Mount (m. Ḥag. 1:1).
72. See also Pss. Sol. 17:37; 1 En. 49:1–4.
73. The language implies a sense of betrayal. Cf. Gen 12:18; 29:25; Exod 14:11; Num 23:11; Judg 15:11.
74. ESV, NASB, NIV, NRSV.
75. Or “my Father’s business” (NKJV).
76. 4:43; 9:22; 13:33; 17:25; 19:5; 21:9; 22:37; 24:7, 44.
77. Both senses are found in Luke. Worrying will not extend one’s age or lifespan (12:25) and Zacchaeus is short in stature (19:3).