The Timing of Jesus (Matthew 1:17)

How many generations are there between Abraham and Jesus? 42 (Matthew 1:17)

The Gospel of Matthew, and consequently the New Testament as whole, begins with a genealogy of Jesus (Matthew 1:1-17). It is one of two messianic lineages preserved in the New Testament (Matthew 1:1-17; Luke 3:23-38). Georg Strecker (1929-2004) proposed that the genealogy predates Matthew’s gospel (Der Weg der Gerechtigkeit, 138ff) though most now believe the material is entirely the evangelist’s.

From its opening verse Matthew’s “origins story” stresses that Jesus is “the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham” (Matthew 1:1 NASB) and validates this claim by tracing Jesus’ ancestry through David to Abraham (Matthew 1:1-17). In doing so, Matthew makes the Old Testament Jesus’ back story and places him firmly into the history of Israel.

The genealogy is carefully constructed. M. Eugene Boring (b. 1935) notes:

Matthew follows the biblical pattern of incorporating genealogical material into the narrative as a constituent element of the story, adopting the pattern found in Ruth 4:18-22: “A begot B.” ...Thus the genealogy in Matthew is not a list, but a series of short sentences leading from Abraham to Jesus, the narrative unit of the larger story that follows. (Leander E. Keck [b. 1928], Matthew - Mark (The New Interpreter’s Bible), 129)

The passages’s concluding summary statement further reveals its meticulous alignment (Matthew 1:17). Matthew trisects the data into three fourteen generation epochs.

So all the generations from Abraham to David are fourteen generations; from David to the deportation to Babylon, fourteen generations; and from the deportation to Babylon to the Messiah, fourteen generations. (Matthew 1:17 NASB)

The breakdown is not as simple as the summary statement makes it appear; the list has been deliberately edited to elicit literary symmetry (Matthew 1:17). Ulrich Luz (b. 1938) details:

The genealogy consists of a long series of monotonous, short main clauses. Its organization is decoded by Matthew 1:17: it consists of 3 × 14 generations. However, these cannot be found exactly like this in the text: If one follows Matthew 1:17 literally then David must be counted twice, and the second series of 14 goes from him until Josiah. If one counts Josiah also twice, then one gets a second series of 14 until Jesus. Matthew 1:17, however, accentuates the exile as a break, which is clearly marked also in the genealogy. If one does not begin the third series until Matthew 1:12, then one has only 13 generations for it. The structure given in Matthew 1:17 is not patently clear. It can only be explained by literary criticism. (Luz, Matthew 1-7 (A Continental Commentary), 117)

The genealogy is not exhaustive, clearly omitting generations to meets its trifold pattern. This is especially true of the last series of fourteen (Matthew 1:12-16).

R.T. France (1938-2012) recognizes:

In order to keep the number of generations between David and Jehoichin to fourteen, Matthew has had to omit five of the actual kings recorded in Old Testament history: he goes straight from Joram to Uzziah, omitting the three generations of Ahaziah, Joash, and Amaziah (together with the usurping queen-mother Athaliah), and the brothers Jehoahaz and Jehoiakim are omitted between Josiah and Jehoiachin. (France, The Gospel of Matthew (New International Commentary on the New Testament), 30)

This strained calculation is purposeful. Michael J. Wilkins (b. 1949) assures:

Matthew skips some generations in Jesus’ family tree so that the structure can be made uniform for memorization, while other members are given prominence to make a particular point. (Clinton E. Arnold [b. 1958], Matthew, Mark, Luke (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 10)

This is not atypical for genealogies. Robert R. Wilson (b. 1942) observes that though omissions occur for various reasons, they are not typically found at the outset of lists where founders are important nor at the end where living memory prevails but rather in the middle of the document (Wilson, Genealogy and History in the Biblical World). This impression fits Matthew’s lineage.

Due to the neglected names, the genealogy is unbalanced chronologically. Raymond E. Brown (1928-1998) approximates:

The spans of time covered by the three sections of genealogy are too great to have contained only fourteen generations each, since some 750 years separated Abraham from David, some 400 years separated David from the Babylonian Exile, and some 600 years separated the Babylonian Exile from Jesus’ birth. (Brown, The Birth of the Messiah: A Commentary on the Infancy Narratives in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, 74-75)

In Matthew’s genealogy theology trumps historical precision. William D. Shiell (b. 1972) informs:

As with any other genealogy in the ancient world, Matthew does not include everyone related biologically to Jesus. His is a theological list rather than a family tree, so the list contains the significant names for Matthew’s purposes that reflect a certain picture of Jesus. (Shiell, Sessions with Matthew: Becoming a Family of Faith, 5)

In spite of the summary statement’s assertion (Matthew 1:17), not all of the divisions encompass precisely fourteen names. Craig L. Blomberg (b. 1955) argues that this too is not abnormal to the genre:

The actual number of generations in the three parts of the genealogy are thirteen, fourteen, and thirteen respectively, but ancient counting often alternated between inclusive and exclusive reckoning. Such variation was thus well within standard literary convention of the day (for a good rabbinic parallel, see m. ‘Abot 5:1-6). When once compares the genealogy with Luke’s account and with various Old Testament narratives, it is clear that Matthew has omitted several names to achieve this literary symmetry. But the verb consistently translated...“was the father of” (more literally begat) could also mean was the ancestor of. (Blomberg, Matthew (New American Commentary), 53)

This pliable enumeration is particularly noticeable in the last sequence. As such, many explanations have been offered to explain the purported discrepancy. One of the most common theories is conflation.

Michael J. Wilkins (b. 1949) typifies:

The third group of fourteen generations, from the deportation to Jesus, begins again by counting Jeconiah and ends with Jesus’ name...The name “Jeconiah” may serve as a double entendre to indicate both Jehoiakim and the end of the second group of generations, and also to indicate Jehoiachin and the beginning of the third group of generations after the deportation. On this supposition, the name “Jeconiah” is counted twice to indicate the two different rulers and eras in Matthew’s genealogy. (Wilkins, Matthew (The NIV Application Commentary), 64)

Others, including Krister Stendahl (1921-2008), have conjectured that Jesus and Christ should be tallied as two different generations, with the latter representing the returning Christ (Matthew 1:16).

Though it defies Matthew’s established literary pattern, Robert H. Gundry (b. 1932) suggests that Matthew counts Joseph and Mary as separate generations:

To get this third fourteen Matthew probably counts Mary as well as Joseph; i.e. the one chronological generation carries two other kinds of generations within it, a legal (Joseph’s) and a physical (Mary’s)...The counting of Mary harmonizes with Matthew’s distinction between the royal lineage of Jesus through Joseph (cf. Joseph’s being addressed as “son of David” in Matthew 1:20) and the divine generation of Jesus through Mary. (Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on His Handbook for a Mixed Church under Persecution, 19)

Stanley Hauerwas (b. 1940) postulates:

The last group has only thirteen generations because the church that Jesus calls into existence constitutes the fourteenth generation. (Hauerwas, Matthew (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 31)

Regardless of how the names are calculated, it can be assumed that the oversight is intentional. Frederick Dale Bruner (b. 1932) asserts:

Matthew knows that some of his audience can read, that they can check his kings with the Old Testament. Matthew is not trying to put something over on us; with the sovereign freedom appropriate to the Messiah’s evangelist, Matthew is simply helping history preach doctrine. He drops about four chapters and four kings from his Old Testament genealogy in order to have a smoother, more memorable chronology — in order to get fourteen....This was John Calvin [1509-1564]’s solution too...Matthew does not falsify, he simplifies — Uzziah was the son of Jothan according to the rabbinic rule that “the sons of sons are also sons.” In obedience to the point of Scripture — Jesus the Christ — Matthew sharpened the pointers to him — the roughly comparable number of generations between Abraham, David the Exile, and Christ — because Matthew believes that this rough comparability best “makes the point” of God’s ordering and gracious providence. (Bruner, The Churchbook: Matthew 1-12, 17)

Stanley P. Saunders (b. 1953) concurs:

When Matthew repeatedly names “fourteen generations,” he issues an engraved invitation to go back and count. When one does so, however, it becomes clear that the last segment, which runs from Sheatiel to Jesus [Matthew 1:13-16] is defective, yielding but thirteen generations...Did Matthew make a mistake? If so, it likely an intentional “mistake.” Throughout the genealogy Matthew has included surprises, incongruities, and broken patterns. Matthew is training us to attend to the details. Here he creates a puzzle for us to grapple with. Is Jesus to be counted twice, once as Jesus and again as the Christ? Or does Matthew understand Jesus as the one who simultaneously stands as the sole survivor of his generation (cf. Matthew 2:16-18) and again as the firstfruits of the time of resurrection (cf. Matthew 27:51-54). Is he both the “Son of Humanity” (or “the human one” or “Son of Man”) and Son of God, the representative of both God and humankind? Does the Holy Spirit (cf. Matthew 1:20) represent the thirteenth generation, and Jesus the fourteenth? Matthew does not resolve the puzzle, but compels us to become active interpreters who, in the light of the larger story, must sort out for ourselves who Jesus is. By the end of the genealogy we already know that we should expect the unexpected, look for God’s agents among the vulnerable and powerless, and learn how Jesus fulfills Israel’s history while radically disrupting it. (Saunders, Preaching the Gospel of Matthew: Proclaiming God’s Presence, 4)

While the specifics can be debated, the overarching theme cannot. Donald Senior (b. 1940) determines:

If some of the details remain enigmatic, the overall intent of Matthew’s genealogy is clear. His distillation of Israel’s history brings attention successively to Abraham and patriarchal history, to the image of David the king, to the shattering experience of exile, and to the renewal of hope through the Messiah. (Senior, Matthew (Abingdon New Testament Commentaries), 37)

David L. Turner (b. 1949) professes:

However one handles this problem, D.A. Carson [b. 1946]’s point (1984: 68) is noteworthy: “The symbolic value of the fourteens is of more significance than their precise breakdown.” Matthew certainly knew basic arithmetic as well as modern scholars do, but Matthew’s literary conventions are ancient, not modern. By modern standards, Matthew’s linear genealogy is artificial because it not exhaustive...It is not that Matthew has erred, since he did not intend to work exhaustively and precisely. (Turner, Matthew (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 27)

Whereas Luke’s genealogy is organized around the number seven (Luke 3:23-38), Matthew goes to great lengths to structure Jesus’ ancestry with the integer fourteen (Matthew 1:17). Leon Morris (1914-2006) interjects:

Clearly the number is significant for him, but unfortunately he does not explain why. But the note of fulfillment is strong, and perhaps Marshall D. Johnson (1935-2011) gives us the answer: “The function of the genealogy — the note of fulfillment — explains the lack of a precise and exact parallel with contemporary sources: the two genealogies of Jesus in the New Testament are the only extant Messianic genealogies which are written to prove that the Messiah has come.” We should perhaps bear in mind also the point made by Louis Finkelstein [1895-1991] that the number fourteen was regarded as significant in contemporary Judaism. He says, “The number, ‘fourteen, is not accidental. It corresponds to the number of high priests from the establishment of Solomon’s Temple; the number of high priests from the establishment of the Temple until Jaddua, the last high priest mentioned in Scripture. It is clear that a mystic significance attached to this number, in both the Sadducean and the Pharisaic traditions.” Matthew would have been aware of this and may be producing an argument that would impress Jews. (Morris, The Gospel according to Matthew (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 25)

Charles H. Talbert (b. 1934) further chronicles the precedent:

The number fourteen was conventional in genealogies. In I Chronicles 1-2 are fourteen generations from Abraham to David; in 2 Baruch 53-74 world history is divided into fourteen periods from Adam to the messiah; in m. Avot 1.1-12 are fourteen links in the chain of tradition between Moses and the last of the pairs of teachers. So Matthew’s auditors would have experienced nothing out of the ordinary in this opening of his narrative. (Talbert, Matthew (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament), 33)

Craig S. Keener (b. 1960) considers:

Perhaps fourteen was simply Matthew’s average estimate of the generations from one period in Israel’s history to the next, Matthew preferred a round number for each set of generations, perhaps for ease of memorization (cf. II Maccabees 2:25); some argue that occasional Talmudic lists also edited lists to fourteen elements (Shulamit Valler 1995). But he probably did so especially to imply that, as in the case of the new Elijah of Matthew 3:4, Israel was due for its Messiah to come when Jesus was born (cf. Donald A. Hagner [b. 1936] 1993:7). (Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 74)

Numerous justifications have been given for the use of the number. Some have seen a connection to the cycle of the moon. W. D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) trace:

The cycle of the moon covers twenty-eight days, fourteen of waning, fourteen of waxing. Perhaps, then, the idea behind Matthew 1:2-17 is this: the time between Abraham and David was one of waxing, with David being the climax; next the period after David was one of waning, the captivity being the low point; finally, there followed a time of waxing, the zenith coming with the birth of Jesus. In his Gnomon of the New Testament, Johann Albrecht Bengel [1687-1752] already mentioned this interpretation and ascribed it to...James Rhenford [1653-1712]. In more recent times it has been championed by Chaim Kaplan [1880-1942]. Just such a scheme does, in fact, lie behind Exodus Rabbah on 12.2. There, however, the cycles of the moon, given as 15 + 15 = 30, are explicitly cited. (Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7 (International Critical Commentary), 161-62)

Herbert Basser (b. 1942) expounds:

Just as the lunar cycle has twenty-eight nights (the cycle ends at dusk on the twenty-ninth day), so the night of the fourteenth-fifteen signals the moon at midmonth. We can construe that Matthew’s genealogy rises to the height, or fulness, with David in the fourteenth generation, after which, starting with Solomon, the genealogy descends through fourteen generations to the lowest point, or the darkness of moonless nights, that is the Exile. And fourteen generations after the darkness of the Exile, like the moon in its nightly waxing, the genealogy rises again to the height, or fullness, which is Jesus. According to this scenario, both David and Jesus are at “full moon” positions in a complete fourteen/fifteen generation repeating cycle. (Basser, The Mind Behind the Gospels: A Commentary to Matthew 1-14, 26)

Many have found a connection to the number seven, as 14÷2=7. Seven is found often in the Bible, commonly representing wholeness. Suzanne de Diétrich (1891-1981) communicates fourteen as “the symbol of plenitude of something complete.” (Diétrich, The Layman’s Bible Commentary, 16)

Others have taken the connection with seven a step further and interpreted the genealogy as a period of six weeks with Jesus inaugurating a seventh week, an eschatological Sabbath. N.T. Wright (b. 1948) concedes:

His three periods of fourteen generations may well be intended to hint at six periods of seven generations so that Jesus starts the seventh seven, the climactic moment of the series. (Wright, The New Testament and the People of God, 385)

Others adopting this stance include John P. Meier [b. 1942] 1980: 3-4; Fabrizio Foresti 1984; Herman Hendrickx [1933-2002] 1984, The Infancy Narratives: 23-24 and Ben Witherington III [b. 1951] 2006: 41.

W. D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) explain:

Because seven but not fourteen is a prominent number in the Bible, Matthew’s three fourteens can be regarded as the equivalent of six sevens (3 × 14 = 6 × 7), in which case Jesus would stand at the head of the seventh seven, the seventh day of history, the dawn of the eternal sabbath. A parallel to this could be found in the ‘Apocalypse of Weeks’ (I Enoch 93:1-10; 91:12-17)...Yet it must be said that Matthew expressly writes of three fourteens, not six sevens. (Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7 (International Critical Commentary), 162)

Mervyn Eloff (b. 1957) also expresses incredulity (Eloff, “Exile, Restoration and Matthew’s genealogy,” 84).

George F. Moore (1851-1931) proposes that if one measures a generation as 35 years, Matthew’s fourteen generations would span 490 years (35×14= 490 years) thus duplicating Daniel’s seventy weeks of years (490 years; cf. Daniel 9:24-27). This reckoning has Jesus’ coming corresponding to the fulfillment of prophecy (Moore, “Fourteen Generations – 490 years,” Harvard Theological Review (1921) 97-103). The difficulty with Moore’s theory is that assigning 35 years to a generation is arbitrary.

The most widespread theory regarding the genealogy’s structure is that the number fourteen is affixed to King David. Though Matthew’s genealogy prominently features Abraham (Matthew 1:1, 2, 17), it accentuates Jesus’ connection to David (Matthew 1:1, 6, 17). Before Arabic numerals, letters and consequently words carried a numeric value known as gematia. As Hebrew was scripted with no vowels there are three letters in David’s Hebrew name. August Friedrich Gfrörer (1803-1861) recognized that the sum of these three letters totals fourteen.

David L. Turner (b. 1949) computes:

Matthew has evidently chosen fourteen generations to structure his genealogy because David is the fourtheenth name in the genealogy and fourteen is the numerical value of “David” in Hebrew. Consonantally, דןד (dwd) is 4 (d) + 6 (w) + 4 (d) when the places of the consonants in the numerical order of the Hebrew alphabet are added together. This gematria, which assigns numerical values to letters, stresses the centrality of David in Jesus’s background as well as the centrality of great David’s greater son, Jesus, for Matthew’s readers. (Turner, Matthew (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 58)

Craig A. Evans (b. 1952) acknowledges:

Interpreting the numerical value of the letters that make up a name (called gematria in Hebrew) may strike us today as very strange, but it held significance for the ancients and was practiced by Jewish interpreters of Scripture (e.g. b. Shabbat 70a, in reference to Exodus 35:1) and Greek interpreters of oracles and various traditions. (Evans, Matthew (New Cambridge Bible Commentary), 37)

W. D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) add:

Gematria was practised in both Jewish and Christian circles close to Matthew’s time; and the numerical interpretation of David’s name can account for both the number three and the number fourteen. Still, objections have been raised. First, the use of gematria in Greek documents is customarily accompanied by an explicit statement indicating such. Reference need be made only to Revelation 13:18 and Sibylline Oracles 5.12-51. And even when, as in rabbinic sources, gematria is not explicit, it is only because its presence is unmistakable, as in Numbers Rabbah on 5.18 and 16.1. Secondly, the list of fourteen names in Matthew 1:2-6a was surely traditional and therefore ought not to be regarded as the product of a numerical play on David’s name. (Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7 (International Critical Commentary), 163-64)

Further criticism reminds that the nuance would likely have been lost on Matthew’s original audience. Donald A. Hagner (b. 1936) rejects:

The Book of Matthew, it should be remembered, is written in Greek, and the numerology of the Hebrew name would not be at all evident to Greek readers without explanation. That David’s name in Hebrew is equal to fourteen may well be only a coincidence; in any event, it can hardly be determinative in a Greek text. (Hagner, Matthew 1-13 (Word Biblical Commentary), 7)

The use of gematria is not commonly found in the New Testament. R.T. France (1938-2012) discerns:

Revelation 13:17-18 is the only clear New Testament parallel to this sort of calculation, known as Gematria (but see also Epistle of Barnabas 9:8, a very early Christian work), but it is well attested in Rabbinc circles, and the clear emphasis on David through genealogy suggests it may be in Matthew’s mind. If he did not do it deliberately, he would probably have been delighted to have it pointed out to him! (France, Matthew (Tyndale New Testament Commentaries), 75)

There can be little doubt that a connection to David is being accentuated. David’s name pervades the list. It appears five times, more than any other name and is situated at the beginning, middle, end and (Matthew 1:1, 6, 17 [twice in Matthew 1:6, 17]). David is further emphasized as, despite being featured in a list replete with kings, he is the only character designated as such (Matthew 1:6).

Andreas J. Köstenberger (b. 1957), L. Scott Kellum (b. 1964) and Charles L. Quarles (b. 1965) note:

Although the genealogy of Jesus contained the names of many kings ranging from David to Jechoniah, only David was specifically identified as a king. This implies that Matthew stressed Jesus’ Davidic lineage in order to demonstrate that Jesus was qualified to reign as king. Old Testament prophecies foretold that the Messiah, the eternal King of Gods people, would be a descendent of David. In II Samuel 7:11-16, the prophet Nathan prophesied that God would raise up a descendant of David and establish the throne of his kingdom forever. (Köstenberger, Keller, and Quarles, The Cradle, the Cross, and the Crown: An Introduction to the New Testament, 219)

W. D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) resolve:

We suspect gematria because David’s name has the value of fourteen and because in Matthew 1:2-16 there are 3 × 14 generations. But there is an additional observation to be made. David’s name is fourteenth on the list. This is telling. In a genealogy of 3 × 14 generations, the one name with three consonants and a value of fourteen is also placed in the fourteenth spot. When one adds that this name is mentioned immediately before the genealogy (Matthew 1:1) and twice at its conclusion (Matthew 1:17), and that it is honoured by the title, king, coincidence becomes effectively ruled out. The name, David, is the key to the pattern of Matthew’s genealogy. (Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7 (International Critical Commentary), 165)

The blatant connection to David paints Jesus as the long awaited Davidic Messiah. Rudolf Schnackenburg (1914-2002) deduces:

The point is to establish Jesus’ authentic descent from “King David” (Matthew 1:6), from whose line Nathan promised David that the Messiah would come (II Samuel 7:13-14). This descent is by way of Jesus’ putative father Joseph, of the same line. (Schnackenberg, The Gospel of Matthew, 16)

Douglas R.A. Hare (b. 1929) concurs:

By structuring the Davidic posterity in this way, Matthew announces that Jesus is not just a son of David (as is said of Joseph, Matthew 1:20) but is the long-awaited Messiah, David’s ultimate successor. (Hare, Matthew (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 6)

Part of the human experience is being rooted in a past. Like all of us, Jesus’ destiny is shaped in part by his roots. Matthew’s genealogy stresses that Jesus is the rightful king of Israel.

Why does Matthew’s summary statement enumerate the genealogy differently than its most natural reading (Matthew 1:17)? How important is knowing the Old Testament background to understanding Jesus? Do you attach any significance to the number 14? How would you begin telling the story of Jesus? What does Jesus’ genealogy tell you about him? How far back can you track your family tree? How has your lineage shaped you?

In beginning the gospel with a genealogy, Matthew places Jesus squarely within an historical framework, more specifically Israel’s. J. Andrew Overman (b. 1955) remarks:

Unmistakably, in Matthew Jesus is ensconced within the history of Israel’s divinely driven story. He is Jesus the messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham. These two heroes of Israel’s story are signaled out...as touchstones of the genealogy in Matthew 1:17...By Matthew’s peculiar reckoning, at the birth of Jesus Israel was due another anointed agent. Jesus is in the same family and in the same league with these two great figures and reformers in Israel’s story. This sets a tone for Matthew’s own story about Jesus and sets a series of expectations for the informed reader. (Overman, Church and Community in Crisis: The Gospel According to Matthew, 31)

Matthew’s genealogy not only places Jesus in a specific time and place, it frames history (Matthew 1:1-17). As could only be determined after the fact, Matthew generates neat divisions from otherwise seemingly messy data. Matthew’s gospel is not the first to make this attempt.

Herbert Basser (b. 1942) researches:

Although Matthew does not give explicit meaning to the pattern he develops, attention to Jewish texts helps ascribe some meaning to it. Babylonian Talmud tractate ‘Abodah Zarah 9a also divides Jewish history into three equal periods, though this text focuses on years rather than generations, and it understands history to be 6000 years in duration. (Basser, The Mind Behind the Gospels: A Commentary to Matthew 1-14, 19)

David E. Garland (b. 1947) inserts:

When the biblical historians schematized generations they declared their faith that “history is the sphere in which God works out his purpose” (Helen Milton [1916-1994], “The Structure of the Prologue to Matthew,” JBL 81[1962]: 176). Apocalyptic writers, however, arranged history into epochs to assess the present age and the future (see 2 [Syriac] Apocalypse of Baruch 53-74). The question in 4 Ezra 6:7 is typical of apocalyptic writings: “When will the end of the first age and the beginning of the second age be?” Matthew knows the answer to that question after the fact and fashions the table of genealogy to demonstrate that Jesus inaugurates the new age. At the appointed time (see Galatians 4:4), God has stepped in with the birth of his son. W.D. Davies [1911-2001] concludes: “The genealogy is an impressive witness to Matthew’s conviction that the birth of Jesus was no unpremeditated accident but occurred in the fulness of time and in the providence of God, who overruled the generations to this end, to inaugurate in Jesus a new order, the time of fulfillment” (Setting, 73). The genealogy is not the record of one birth after another. It discloses that God has been working within history to achieve foreordained purposes and that Jesus, the last person of the last epoch, is the fulfillment of God’s plan for Israel and the beginning of the new messianic age. (Garland, Reading Matthew: A Literary and Theological Commentary, 20)

The structure of the genealogy arranges history as a whole. Joel Kennedy (b. 1970) advances:

Matthew 1:17 emphasizes there has been a structural order to the genealogy as well as an order to the history of Israel that it recapitulates...Matthew 1:17 makes explicit the thrust implicit in Matthew 1:2-16. Christ stands dramatically and climactically at the end of Matthew’s teleological genealogy. For Matthew, the order of history through the providence of God has led to this point. Consequently, Matthew 1:17 intends that as one adds up the meaning of Israel’s history, the only appropriate sum will be Jesus Christ. (Kennedy, The Recapitulation of Israel: Use of Israel’s History in Matthew 1:1 - 4:11, 74-75)

Maris McCrabb (b. 1951) reviews Frederick Dale Bruner (b. 1932) characterization of Matthew’s epochs:

The message of the first fourteen on the list is mercy; the message of the second fourteen is justice or judgment; and the message of the final fourteen is faith, especially God’s faith: he promised and he fulfills his promise. “Jesus is the fulfillment of everything the Old Testament is trying to say.” (Matthew: A Commentary, 15). (McCrabb, Reflections on the Gospel of Matthew)

The underlying current of the genealogy is God’s guidance of history. Richard A. Jensen (b. 1934) informs:

The genealogy...lays out Matthew’s view of history...History has a plan. God is in charge of that plan. All of history comes to fruition and fulfillment in the birth of a baby boy. The name of the baby is Jesus. The destiny of history is bound up in this child. (Jensen, Preaching Matthew’s Gospel, 33)

God’s sovereigny is on display. Thomas G. Long (b. 1946) upholds:

The strongest explanation for the pattern of fourteens in the genealogy is that Matthew is following a Jewish literary technique of dividing epochs into equal parts, thereby making the theological claim that history is not haphazard, but under the control of God. Jesus’ appearance in history, Matthew wants us to know, was no mere accident, no random birth. Other human births may be the result of a spin of the biological wheel of fortune, but not Jesus’ birth. It was orderly, arranged, the result of God’s careful plan and providence. What might appear to be the uncontrolled flood of generations can now, in retrospect, be seen for what it truly is—a mighty river whose channel was carved out by the guiding and arranging hand of God, causing all of Israel’s history to flow in orderly fashion toward this critical moment of passion. (Long, Matthew (Westminster Bible Companion), 10)

John P. Meier (b. 1942) concludes:

The basic affirmation of the genealogy is two-fold: (1) Jesus’ origins lie in the old people of God, Israel; and (2) Jesus is the fulfillment of Israel’s history, a history carefully guided by God to its goal. (Meier, Matthew (New Testament Message), 3)

Though to those who had long awaited the Messiah, Jesus’ coming likely seemed delayed, Matthew convinces that Christ arrives at the proper interval. He appears in time to die for all and in doing so, redeems both his ancestors and descendants.

Do you find Matthew’s ordering of history to be contrived? How would you divide the past into epochs? How does Jesus disrupt history? How predetermined do you feel life is? Why was Jesus born at this specific time and place; how did it benefit him, the rest of humanity? When have you waited for something only to have later benefitted from its delay?

“Right time, right place, right people equals success.
Wrong time, wrong place, wrong people equals most of the real human history.”
- Idries Shah (1924-1996), Reflections, p. 82

Og’s King Sized Bed (Deuteronomy 3:11)

Who is the first bedstead owner mentioned in the Bible? Og (Deuteronomy 3:11)

Before undertaking the conquest of the Promised Land, ten of twelve Israelite spies return with a negative report citing the massive inhabitants of the land (Numbers 13:33). Og, king of Bashan, seems to be evidence that their report is not entirely without merit (Numbers 21:33-25; Deuteronomy 3:1-11).

While the book of Numbers offers only a brief summary of the Israelites’ victory over Og (Numbers 21:33-35), Moses expounds upon the triumph while addressing the nation for the last time in Deuteronomy (Deuteronomy 3:1-11). To those who subscribe to the documentary hypothesis, the J source minimizes the battle while the D source accentuates it.

Moses finds the battle significant enough to recount it in his final remarks (Deuteronomy 3:1-11). The narrative’s final verse notes that Og is the last of the Rephaim and at the time of the text’s writing, his bed remains as a testament to his might (Deuteronomy 3:11).

(For only Og king of Bashan was left of the remnant of the Rephaim. Behold, his bedstead was an iron bedstead; it is in Rabbah of the sons of Ammon. Its length was nine cubits and its width four cubits by ordinary cubit.) (Deuteronomy 3:11 NASB)

Many have viewed this editorial insertion as an historical gloss added by a later redactor. It is presented as a parenthetical aside in many prominent translations (ASV, ESV, HCSB, NASB, NIV, NLT, NRSV, RSV). Daniel I. Block (b. 1943) remarks that the interjection “invites ancient readers to check the narrator’s veracity and confirm the magnitude of Israel’s victory (Block, Deuteronomy (The NIV Application Commentary), 31).”

The annotation highlights Og’s colossal iron bed. At the time of the text’s writing, Og’s bedstead is a museum piece in Rabbah, modern-day Amman, the capital and largest city in Jordan. This is the first reference to Rabbah in Scripture (Deuteronomy 3:11; Joshua 13:25, 15:60; II Samuel 11:1, 12:26, 27, 29, 17:27, I Chronicles 20:1; Jeremiah 49:2, 3; Ezekiel 21:20, 25:5; Amos 1:14).

The furniture in question is alternately translated as Og’s “bedstead” (ASV, KJV, NASB, NKJV, RSV), “bed” (ESV, HCSB, MSG, NIV, NLT, NRSV), or “coffin” (CEV).

Everett Fox (b. 1947) and Peter C. Craigie (1938-1985) render the word “couch”. This is functionally accurate as John H. Walton (b. 1952) and Victor H. Matthews (b. 1950) note, “Beds were not just for sleeping but were often used for reclining on during feasts and celebrations. Some reliefs picture kings reclining on magnificent couches (Walton and Matthews, Genesis—Deuteronomy (The IVP Bible Background Commentary), 223).”

As indicated by the CEV’s translation, some have proposed that Og’s bed is actually a sarcophagus or coffin. A.R. Millard (b. 1937) traces:

According to S.R. Driver [1846-1914] it was J.D. Michaelis [1717-1791] who gave birth to the idea that “bed” here, ‘ereś, might denote a sarcophagus, an idea which many now accept...The metamorphosis of Og’s bed into a basalt coffin was completed when it gained authoritative status in modern Bible translations...The NEB renders ‘ereś barzel, “sarcophagus of basalt,” with a footnote “or iron” for basalt, and the United Bible Societies’ Good News Bible offers “His coffin made of stone,” with footnotes “coffin or bed” and “stone or iron.”...Despite the unanimity of commentators, S.R. Driver’s caution deserves to be heeded: “it is not impossible that the giant relic shown at Rabbah was a sarcophagus; though, as this meaning of ‘rś is uncertain, it is better to suppose that what was really a sarcophagus was popularly called a ‘bed’.” In other words, “Og’s bed” was a name like “King Arthur’s Seat” in Edinburgh, or “Solomon’s Throne” in Iran. That is, in fact, the only way to explain how a word which always means ‘bed” can be translated “coffin,” and how a word which always denotes “iron” can be given the meaning “stone.” Archaeologists have yet to unearth a large basalt coffin in Amman inscribed “The iron bed of King Og,” and it is unlikely they will do so. (Lyle Eslinger [b. 1953], “King Og’s Bed and other Ancient Ironmongery”, Ascribe to the Lord: Biblical and Other Essays in Memory of Peter C. Craigie [1938-1985], 482-84)

The belief that the bed is actually a coffin is not universal. Gerhard Von Rad (1901-1971) refutes:

The object which was shown in Rabbah of the Ammonites as the ‘bed’...can hardly have been originally a sarcophagus in view of its length (about fourteen feet), for it is more than double the length of the famous sarcophagus of Ahiram of Byblus. (Von Rad, Deuteronomy: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 44-45)

The Hebrew term literally indicates a bed. Robert Alter (b. 1935) defines:

The Hebrew noun ‘eres is a poetic term for bed, perhaps used here (instead of the more prosaic mishkav or mitah) to give this declaration an epic flourish. Moshe Weinfeld [1925-2009] proposes that it means “bier,” a secondary meaning that mitah has. Several scholars have noted that late in the second millennium B.C.E., iron had been only recently introduced and was still regarded as a rare metal. But the sheer hardness of the substance might be meant to indicate the martial toughness of the gigantic king. (Alter, The Five Books of Moses: A Translation with Commentary, 893)

The bed is characterized by its prodigious size and its iron composition, likely state of the art for the period. Christopher J.H. Wright (b. 1947) researches:

Alan R. Millard [b. 1937] has argued from archaeological evidence, first that Og’s “iron bed” was indeed a bed and not...a basalt sarcophagus, and secondly, that it was probably a wooden frame plated or decorated with iron, not solid iron (like “ivory palace,” Psalm 45:8). At this point in history, the transition from the Late Bronze to Early Iron Age, iron is still a precious and costly metal and therefore fit the decor of the royal bedroom. Millard also suggests that since iron became the common metal of following centuries, this small incidental note about a remarkable “iron bed” is consistent with an early date for Deuteronomy. Cf. Millard, “King Og’s Bed.” Unlike Og, the matter has not been laid to rest: cf. Robert Drews [b. 1936], “The ‘Chariots of Iron’ of Joshua and Judges” and Millard, “Iron Bed.” (Wright, Deuteronomy (New International Biblical Commentary), 43-44)

Edward J. Woods sees a further explanation for the metal:

In this archaeological note, Og is pictured as a giant, requiring a huge bed that has to be made of iron in order to bear his weight. For this reason, it would have been considered a remarkable piece for the Late Bronze period (second millennium BC), when iron was considered to be precious, as with the term iron chariots (Joshua 17:16, 16; Judges 1:19, 4:3, 13). In the Iron Age of the first millennium BC, one did not mention that chariots (or beds) were made of iron, as this was understood...The reference to the Ammonite city of Rabbah might place this note as late as the time of David, when Rabbah was the capitol of Ammon. (Woods, Deuteronomy (Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries), 97-98)

The distinguishing characteristic of the piece is its size, nine cubits in length (Deuteronomy 3:11). Doug McIntosh (b. 1945) measures:

The last phrase is literally, “according to the cubit of a man.” This form of measurement, the most common biblical linear standard, came from a measurement available to everyone: the distance between the elbow and the tip of the middle finger, approximately eighteen inches. A cubit is also twice the distance of the space between the thumb and the tip of the little finger, what the Bible calls “a span.”...The measurement of the “cubit of man” received confirmation some years ago when the Siloam inscription was discovered in Jerusalem. It describes the length of Hezekiah’s Tunnel as 1,200 cubits long. Its length in modern terms is 1,749 feet, yielding a measurement for the standard cubit of 17.49 inches. (McIntosh, Deuteronomy (Holman Old Testament Commentary), 47)

Peter C. Craigie (1938-1985) calculates:

The common cubit...appears to have been...approximately 18 inches. Thus the approximate dimensions of Og’s sarcophagus or couch would have been 13½ × 6 feet (4.1 × 1.8 meters). (Craigie, The Book of Deuteronomy (New International Commentary on the Old Testament), 120)

Og truly has a king-sized bed. There are presently two sizes of king sized beds and four names for them. A Standard (or Eastern) King is about 4" wider and a California (or Western) King is 4" longer. A Standard measures 76" wide x 80" long while a California is 72" wide x 84" long. While Og’s bed is not much wider than the modern king sized bed, its length is nearly twice the size of even the longer California King.

Tellingly, this extraordinary object is all that the once powerful king leaves to history.

Are there other famous (or notorious) beds in history worthy of being museum pieces? When have makeshift coffins been constructed from objects not intended for such use? What size bed do you employ? If you could choose only one of your possessions to be left for posterity, what would it be?

Interestingly, the text discusses the size of Og’s bed though not his own. The insinuation, however, is clear: Og is a giant. An American equivalent is the 27th president, William Howard Taft (1857-1930). An urban legend that the 340-pound president became stuck in a White House bathtub originated with chief usher Irwin Hood “Ike” Hoover (1871-1933)’s 1932 memoir 42 Years in the White House. While Hoover’s story cannot be corroborated, newspaper reports housed in the National Archives record that in preparation of Taft’s 1909 trip to inspect construction of the Panama Canal, the captain of the USS North Carolina requested an oversized bathtub to accommodate the president-elect. The tub is described as having “pondlike dimensions”. Like Taft’s bathtub, the proportions of Og’s bed intimate his own size.

Og’s height is also implied in his being described as the last of the Rephaim (Deuteronomy 3:11). Og is a giant and, as such, represents the living embodiment of the Israelites’ worst nightmares (Numbers 13:33). Yet with God’s help, Og is soundly defeated (Numbers 21:33-25; Deuteronomy 3:1-11) and the land once ruled by Bashan’s king is redistributed to the Israelite tribe of Manasseh (Deuteronomy 3:13). With Og’s death the giants have been defeated.

Stephen K. Sherwood (b. 1943) comments:

Only Og remained of the Rephaim—they had all been wiped out, mostly by other peoples. Fear of them was groundless. Pointing to Og’s iron bed emphasizes that the last of the giants is no longer. Certainly, the aside on Og’s bedstead is intended to stress the great size of the defeated enemy and thereby to allay the people’s fear of the size of their future opponents. (Sherwood, Leviticus, Numbers & Deuteronomy (Berit Olam: Studies In Hebrew Narrative And Poetry), 248)

All that remains of Og and his kingdom is his bed. Telford Work (b. 1965) interprets:

Having a bed of then-rare iron reveals Og’s power. The relic is a museum piece whose existence evokes awe at the formidable enemy whom God had delivered to Moses. (Work, Deuteronomy (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 52)

What was to be a witness to Og’s grandeur becomes a testimony to God’s power. J.G. McConville (b. 1951) observes:

The monument to the hero king’s memory ironically becomes an eloquent witness to the power of Yahweh over all such giants (cf. Deuteronomy 1:28). (McConville, Deuteronomy (Apollos Old Testament Commentary), 94)

Og’s bed is a constant reminder that God is bigger than giants. In his parting words to his nation, Moses reminds the people of this battle and as such this fact. There will be many battles ahead during the conquest of the Promised Land and the Israelites need not fear. Besides, the giants have been eliminated.

Walter Brueggemann (b. 1933) interprets:

Og is identified as the last of the Rephaim, and Sihon by indirection is also linked with the Rephaim, since he is a likeness of Og. Thus the narrative reports on the decisive defeat of the “giants in the land” by the power and will of YHWH. The importance of the “Rephaim-connection” is that Israel is reminded that YHWH has already defeated the Rephaim, or their equivalents (Deuteronomy 2:10-12, 20-21)...None of these was a match for YHWH in earlier times. The inference is that neither Sihon nor Og in his turn can resist Israel when Israel is guaranteed by YHWH. As Israel can remember these ancient victories against seemingly great odds, so Israel can legitimately anticipate victories in the forthcoming disputes with occupants of the land. None of the enemies is a match for the power of YHWH, the very assurance that Israel in Deuteronomy 1:26-33 was unable or unwilling to trust. (Brueggemann, Deuteronomy (Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries), 39)

The defeat of Og serves not only as a reminder to the Israelites preparing to vanquish the people dwelling in the Promised Land but to all who people who have followed them who serve the very same God.

Patrick D. Miller (b. 1935) applies:

Fearfulness and anxiety about future large and real problems will not get one across the border into the new land. The issue is not whether the Anakim are there, mighty and tall. They are indeed. If one doubts that, one has only to view King Og’s fourteen-foot bed! The issue, however, is whether the people will “see” that God has brought them safely by the Amalekites to this point (Exodus 17:8-16) and can and will give them victory over the Anakim they see ahead. (Miller, Deuteronomy (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 36)

What is the biggest obstacle you have overcome? What past victory gives you hope for the present and the future? Is any tangible reminder of that triumph preserved? What seemingly insurmountable obstacle is currently obstructing your path? Do you take comfort from Bible stories such as God’s ability to fell Og?

“My bed is actually two king beds put together.” - Cindy Margolis (b. 1965)

Location, Location, Location (John 3:23)

In what part of the Jordan River did John baptize? Near Aenon

The canonical gospels all record that at the outset of Jesus’ public ministry John the Baptist is drawing crowds to be baptized (Matthew 3:1-12; Mark 1:4-8; Luke 3:1-20; John 1:6-13, 19-34, 3:22-35). Only John’s gospel, however, pinpoints the baptizer’s location (John 1:28, 3:23). When John the Baptist is last seen in the Gospel of John, he is said to be situated in Aenon (John 3:23).

John also was baptizing in Aenon near Salim, because there was much water there; and people were coming and were being baptized— (John 3:23 NASB)

John has evidently relocated to Aenon as he is previously seen baptizing in Bethany (John 1:28). Though Aenon is the locale’s most common spelling (CEV, ESV, HCSB, KJV, MSG, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV) it is also rendered Enon (ASV) and Ae’non (RSV).

This is the only time Aenon appears in the Biblical record. The fourth gospel communicating geographic locations not found in the other canonical gospels is not uncommon.

D. Moody Smith (b. 1931) relays:

John mentions a number of places not found in the Synoptics: Bethany beyond Jordan, where John baptized (John 1:28; cf. John 10:40); Aenon near Salim, another place where John baptized (John 3:23); the city of Sychar (John 4:5-6); a mountain of Samaria, presumably Gerizim (John 4:20); the city of Ephraim (John 11:54). (Smith, The Fourth Gospel in Four Dimensions: Judaism and Jesus, the Gospels and Scripture, 107)

John’s precision has been lost to history as Aenon’s location is the subject of much debate. Walter Wink (1935-2012) researches:

A.M. Hunter [1906-1991], ‘Recent Trends in Johannine Studies’, ET, LXXI, 6 (1960), 164-7, declares that ‘the location of Aenon may now be regarded as reasonably certain’. It lies near the headwaters of Wadi Far’ah in Samaria. So also Charles H.H. Scobie [b. 1932], John the Baptist (1964), pp. 163ff. C.K. Barrett [1917-2011], St John, p. 183, remains skeptical. B.W. Bacon [1860-1932] cites evidence that there was a strong Samaritan gnostic wing of the Baptist movement and that John 3:23ff represents the struggle between Christians and Baptists there toward the close of the first century. Samaria is the traditional resting place of John (‘New and Old in Jesus’ Relation to John’, Journal of Biblical Literature, XLVIII, 1929, 52ff). Cf. also Carl H. Kraeling [1897-1966], John the Baptist, p.194 n. 9. Maurice Goguel [1880-1955] suggests that this passage originally emanated from a Baptist group, since it is John, not Jesus, who is so precisely located in John 3:23 (Life of Jesus, pp. 272-75). (Wink, John the Baptist in the Gospel Tradition, 93)

Three potential locations for Aenon have been suggested. Gerald L. Borchert (b. 1932) surveys:

Although we are not certain where this Aenon was, three possibilities have come down through tradition (two of these places are even noted on the ancient mosaic map at Medaba [pictured]). The first of the three is at the northeastern end of the Dead Sea and is the least likely. Another is in the Jordan Valley of Samaria south of the ancient city of Beth Shan (Scythopolis), a site advocated by Rudolf Schnackenburg [1914-2002]. The third, preferred by W.F. Albright [1891-1971], is near Shechem in Samaria. The need to note in John 3:23 that there was plenty of water for baptizing makes some sense if it was in the hill country of Samaria, but it could also apply to the Jordan Valley. (Borchert, John 1-11 (The New American Commentary), 189-90)

As Borchert alludes, even church tradition has competing claims. J. Ramsey Michaels (b. 1931) observes:

The sixth-century mosaic map from Madeba in Jordan shows two Aenons, one east of the Jordan near where John was baptizing before (“Aenon there now Sapsaphas”) and the other west of the river and further north. The latter is specifically connected with our passage by being labeled “Aenon near Salim,” and agrees with the location eight miles south of Beth-shan assigned in a fourth-century gazetteer of biblical place-names, the Onomasticon of Eusebius [263-339] (cf. also the fourth-century travel diary of the European pilgrim Egeria). Modern attempts to locate Aenon in Samaria, where there is today a Salim southeast of Nablus and an Ainun nearby, are unconvincing because of John 4:1-4. The narrative hardly makes sense if Jesus was already baptizing in Samaria! Such names would have been common in any case: Aenon comes from the Aramaic word for “springs,” while Salim, like Salem or Jerusalem, is from a Semitic root meaning “peace.” The location assigned by Eusebius and the Madeba map appears not to rest simply on inferences from John’s Gospel and may therefore be regarded as an independent—and plausible—tradition. (Michaels, John (New International Biblical Commentary), 65)

John J. Rousseau (b. 1930) and Rami Arav (b. 1947) add:

Eusebius [263-339] mentions the place (Onomasticon 40:1-4), which he locates on the western side of the Jordan, as does Jerome [347-420] (Epistle 73). The Madaba Map indicates another location on the eastern side, opposite Betharba...According to a Christian tradition dating from the sixth century and coming from the pilgrim guide Antonius and Cyrillus Scythopolitanus [525-559], there was a cave on the eastern location (named Saphasphas or “Willow” on the Madaba map) where Jesus dwelt at the time of his baptism. (Rousseau and Arav, Jesus and His World: An Archaeological and Cultural Dictionary, 7)

Joshua Schwartz (b. 1952) questions Eusebius’ traditional identification:

A number of problems surround the Byzantine identification. First, if crowds arrived to be baptized, why did John use a spring when the Jordan was nearby? And if perhaps this particular stretch of the Jordan was not convenient, would it not have been more logical to find another rather than to rely on such a spring? Moreover, was the Byzantine Aenon not too close to the pagan city of Scythopolis? Also, the Salem in the Jordan Valley was apparently not much of a settlement while the Gospel of John seems to imply that it was a well-known site. (Gershon Galil and Moshe Weinfeld [1925-2009], “John the Baptist, the Wilderness and the Samaritan Mission”, Studies in Historical Geography and Biblical Historiography: Presented to Zecharia Kallai [b. 1923], 112-13)

Those who have placed Aenon in Samaria have seen it as evidence of a greater Samaritan ministry. Robert Kysar (b. 1934) researches:

Marie-Émile Boismard [1916-2004]’s study of John 3:23 leads him to find more prominence for the mission to the Samaritans than chapter 4 [John 4:1-54] alone would suggest. But he does not propose a Samaritan mission as a goal for the gospel as a whole (“Aenon près de Salem”). James D. Purvis [b. 1932] has scrutinized these theses for a Samaritan mission in the gospel and from his examination of the evidence concludes that, rather than a Samaritan mission, the evangelist was concerned with an anti-Samaritan polemic against a northern, sectarian prophet, a kind of Samaritan magus figure (“Fourth Gospel”). (Kysar, Voyages with John: Charting the Fourth Gospel, 97)

Though Aenon has not been definitively identified, it can be placed on the west side of the Jordan River. Robert. H. Gundry (b. 1932) examines:

John 3:26 will put the Baptist—and therefore Aenon, where he was baptizing—opposite the other side of the Jordan River, where he’d been earlier. Since the other side is the east side, or Transjordan (compare John 1:28, 40), Aenon opposite the east side must be located in territory west of the river—but probably not on its bank, because then John wouldn’t have needed to say that “many waters were there.” (Gundry, Commentary on John)

Despite the failure to distinguish Aenon’s exact location even the most critical of scholars accepts the probability of John’s notation. Craig L. Blomberg (b. 1955) acknowledges:

The location of Aenon, where the Baptist was currently ministering (John 3:23)... another incidental detail that even as sceptical a scholar as Rudolf Bultmann [1884-1976] (1971: 170, n. 9) assumed to be accurate. (Blomberg, The Historical Reliability of John’s Gospel: Issues and Commentary, 96)

The reason for John’s relocation is also lost to history, though some have seen it as a means of avoiding competition with Jesus, similar to Abraham and Lot’s dispersal of land (Genesis 13:1-18). In this way Jesus and John are taking measures not to infringe upon one another’s “territory” thus avoiding a potential turf war.

Jack W. Stallings (b. 1944) speculates:

The statement that John is “also” baptizing seems to indicate that the baptisms are essentially similar (i.e. for repentance). This is the last time that John and Jesus will be in any sense “together,’ sharing the same task. From this point on their paths will diverge drastically. This is the last time that Jesus will closely associate His ministry with that of John. It is an appropriate time for John to express the truth of John 3:30...“Also” is important for a question of geography. Is John “also baptizing”(his location being Aenon) or “also baptizing at Aenon”? If the second option is taken, then Jesus and John are in very close proximity. At any rate, the whole point of this episode seems lost if they are separated by a great distance. (Stallings, The Gospel of John (The Randall House Bible Commentary), 59)

Charles R. Swindoll (b.1934) deduces:

Judea was clearly the Baptizer’s territory. Jesus and His disciples came into Judea, where they not only lingered indefinitely, they even baptized! [John 4:1-2] Meanwhile, John and his disciples continued their ministry of baptism in Aenon...near Salim...places undoubtedly familiar to first-century readers. John’s choice of words heightens the tension as well. The phrase “spending time” is based on the Greek word diatribō [John 3:22]. While the term is used figuratively to mean “to pass time, or to waste time,” it means literally, “to rub between, to rub hard, to rub away.” The potential for friction is unmistakable. (Swindoll, Insights on John, 77-78)

Deeper meaning has been read into the passage’s geography. Some have connected Aenon’s waters with the prophecy of Zechariah: “In that day a fountain will be opened for the house of David and for the inhabitants of Jerusalem, for sin and for impurity.” (Zechariah 13:1 NASB).

Others have found symbolic meaning in the names “Aenon” and “Salim”. Craig R. Koester (b. 1953) considers:

The word Aenon means “springs” in Aramaic, and the evangelist explained that “there were many waters there” (John 3:22-23). He described the location of Aenon by relating it to the village of Salim, which suggests that he expected some readers to know where Salim was. Readers familiar with the Greek translation of the Scriptures may have heard that there was a village named Salem or Salim near Shechem, in the region of Samaria. It was best known from the story of Jacob, who stopped there when he bought the piece of land mentioned in John 4:5 and used it as a place of worship (cf. John 4:20). Those who knew these stories may have seen in John’s movement to Aenon a foreshadowing of Jesus’ ministry in Samaria, where he would tell Jacob’s descendants about living water and a new way to worship. (Koester, Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel: Meaning, Mystery, Community, 186)

Thomas L. Brodie (b.1940) theorizes:

The uncertainty itself may be significant...In dealing with the elusive location of Jesus’ place of abode (John 1:39) and with the rather perplexing use of place names in the call of Philip (John 1:43-44), the fourth gospel’s geographic puzzles—like many of its other puzzles—appear to be a way of challenging the mind and of seeking to raise it to another level of perception. In the case of “Aenon near Salim” the puzzle would seem to be resolved through the fact that “the name [Aenon] is from the Aramaic plural of the word for ‘spring,’ while ‘Salim’ reflects the Semitic root for ‘peace’” (Raymond E. Brown [1928-1998] 151. Shalom=”peace” or “salvation”). In other words, “Aenon near Salim” means “Springs near Peace.” This suits the context and makes theological sense. The passage as a whole (John 3:22-36) is largely connected with aspects of the peace which is brought by Jesus, particularly with the ideas of love and joy (cf. especially John 3:29-36). It is also concerned with John, the representative of the old dispensation who baptized with water, and with John’s relationship to Jesus (John 3:26-30). The picture of John as being at “Springs near Peace” fits the theological role. His is a world of springs, of cleansing water, of preparatory baptism. But nearby is Jesus, the one who, as well as cleansing what is negative, brings a positive peace. The distinctness of the two, as well as their nearness to one another, is further reflected in the image of the bridegroom and his friend, the best man (John 3:29)...In this geographic context...the interpreter has to choose between superficial confusion and theological coherence...Rather than presume that the writer was incapable of giving a clear geographic designation—something which should have been very easy—it seems more appropriate, given the theological depth of the gospel, and given also its tendency towards ambiguity, to interpret “Aenon near Salim” as being primarily theological. (Brodie, The Gospel According to John: A Literary and Theological Commentary, 201-202)

C.H. Dodd (1884-1973) summarily rejects such figurative readings:

All attempts that have been made to extract a profound symbolic meaning out of the names of Sychar, the city of Ephraim, Bethany beyond Jordan, Aenon by Salim, of Cana and Tiberias, or again, of Kedron, Bethesda (or Bethzatha), and Gabbatha, are hopelessly fanciful; and there is no reason to suppose that a fictitious topography would in any way assist the appeal of the gospel to an Ephesian public. The names, whether we are able to identify them on the map or not, cannot reasonably be supposed to have got into the gospel except out of a tradition which associated certain episodes in the life of Jesus (or of John the Baptist) with those sites. (Dodd, The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel, 452-53)

The concrete historical and geographic setting of John’s ministry firmly places baptism in the realm of reality. Frederick Dale Bruner (b.1932) advises:

This text keeps baptism from being understood too abstractly as, say, a spiritual and not a physical reality. John was baptizing in this very particular place “because,” we are explicitly told, “there was a lot of water there.” The “water” of our John 3:23 is the water of Jesus’ promise in John 3:5 — the real water with which the Spirit is united in baptism. We do well to be as physical as Jesus and John were. (Bruner, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, 218)

Why does the evangelist include the location of John’s ministry; is he transmitting more than geography? Why does John move his base of operations? Where is the best place to be baptized? Where were you baptized? Does that venue have special significance to you?

There is practicality involved in John’s positioning: Aenon possesses an abundance of water (John 3:23). Andreas J. Köstenberger (b. 1957) explicates:

The site chosen for baptism was Aenon near Salim, because there was an ample supply of water. “Aenon” is a Semitic term meaning “springs”; hence John’s mention of “plenty of water” (literally, “many waters,” i.e. springs), which would have made this an ideal site for John’s (and Jesus’) baptismal preaching (Leon Morris [1914-2006] 1995: 210). (Köstenberger, John (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 135)

Leon Morris (1914-2006) adds:

One suggestion for Aenon is a site about seven miles south of Beisan. If this is correct, there is a striking accuracy in the statement that there was “plenty of water” or, more literally, “many waters” there, for in this locality there are seven springs within a radius of a quarter mile. In some such place John pursued his activities. The tense of the last two verbs is continuous and we might give the force of this as “they kept coming and being baptized.” (Morris, The Gospel According to John (The New International Commentary on the New Testament), 201)

The choice of Aenon is directly related to John the Baptist’s unquestionable popularity. Robert H. Mounce (b.1921) explains:

Since people were “constantly coming to be baptized,” an abundance of water would be required. A.T. Robertson [1863-1934] (Word Pictures in the New Testament [Nashville: Broadman, 1933], 54) observes that it was “not for drinking, but for baptizing” and quotes Marcus Dods [1834-1909] as saying, “Therefore even in summer, baptism by immersion could be continued.” (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] and David E. Garland [b. 1947], Luke-Acts (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary))

The popularity of John’s ministry is also affirmed in the Synoptic gospels (Matthew 3:5-6; Mark 1:5; Luke 3:7).

The abundance of water makes Aenon an ideal location for John’s ministry on some levels. In other ways, it is inopportune. Francis J. Moloney (b. 1940) comments:

The imperfect passive form of the verb to “to baptize” reappears to describe the fact that people came to John and were baptized. (ebaptizonto) (John 3:23). (Moloney, The Gospel of John (Sacra Pagina), 105)

Aenon is off the beaten path. It is so insignificant that it cannot be accurately identified. Seekers had to go out of their way to reach the baptizer. This flies in the face of conventional wisdom commonly espoused by the modern church growth movement.

Reggie McNeal (b. 1955) outlines:

The idea that the church should be growing put a lot of pressure on denominations and church leaders on whose watch the steam had gone out of post-Word War II church expansion...The sprawl of growth rings around cities created economic and social centers in communities close to where people lived and sent their kids to school. This seemed to be the place to locate growing churches. Church growth, many argued, was simply a corollary to the real estate maxim: location, location, location. (McNeal, The Present Future: Six Tough Questions for the Church, 22)

Location is commonly a significant factor in a religious institution’s success. Donald A. McGavran (1897-1990) professes:

Where people live, their geographical location, is an obvious part of the social structure and greatly affects church growth. Throughout Hindu India, the depressed-class ward has been separated from the rest of the village by physical distance—often a hundred yards or more. As people of these wards became Christian and pastors were appointed to shepherd them, the separate location posed a problem to missions. Should the pastor—an educated, respectable Christian—live in the untouchable ward or seek quarters in the upper-caste section of the village? Arguing that it would help Christians more if their pastor lived in a respectable part of the town, missions in North India located their pastors there. Arguing that the pastor’s place was with his people, missions in South India located him in the untouchable ward itself. J. Waskom Pickett [1890-1981] observes that the South India procedure (its use of social structure) was much more successful in terms of creating a genuine Christian church (1933:228). (MacGavran, Understanding Church Growth, 157)

Gary L. McIntosh (b. 1947) recounts:

As I continued to study church growth principles, I became aware of some practical issues...Many of the problems a church faces are not theological. It had interested me that less than a mile away on the other side of the freeway a church with similar theological convictions as the church I served was going through a season of spiritual and numerical growth. After surveying people living on the other side of the freeway, it became clear that they were unwilling to drive over the freeway to where our church was located. The problem was related to the fact that the church I served was located in an increasingly industrialized area. According to most families at that time, an industrial area was not an appropriate area for a church. No matter how much we went door-to-door or advertised our ministry, people were not going to drive the mile over the freeway to our church. (McIntosh, Biblical Church Growth: How You Can Work with God to Build a Faithful Church, 14)

While location plays a factor in the success of many churches, John the Baptist’s appeal gives hope to those who reside in outlying communities. While it can be argued that John the Baptist was not a pastor and did not have a church, it is indisputable that he operated a successful ministry by drawing people to him as opposed to him going to them. For all intents and purposes, Aenon is nowhere. And yet the something John offered was worth enough to draw people to nowhere to receive it.

In what ways is Aenon an ideal location for John the Baptist? How important is geographic location to a ministry’s success; does it ever trump theology? Is there an inappropriate place to plant a church? Why did John the Baptist’s “church” grow in spite of his unfavorable location? How does your church’s geography affect its ministry? How does your physical address influence the place at which you worship? How far would you travel for a meaningful worship experience?

“So much of difference between a triumph and a flop is determined by choice of venue.” - Anatoly Belilovsky (b. 1961), “Kulterkampf”, Gareth D. Jones and Carmelo Rafala (b. 1970),The Immersion Book of Steampunk

Singing Jehoshaphat (II Chronicles 20:21)

Whose army went into battle singing? Judah’s, under King Jehoshaphat (II Chronicles 20:21)

King Jehoshaphat becomes the fourth king of Judah when he succeeds his father Asa (I Kings 15:23-24; II Chronicles 17:1). He reigns for twenty-five years (I Kings 22:42; II Chronicles 20:31) and is remembered as one of the few kings faithful to God, the Old Testament benchmark for royals (I Kings 22:43; II Chronicles 17:3-6).

Jehoshaphat is far more prominent in Chronicles, where he is featured in four chapters (II Chronicles 17:1-20:37), than Kings, which devotes only ten verses to his reign (I Kings 22:41-50).

Brian E. Kelly observes:

Jehoshaphat plays a much more extensive and important role in Chronicles than in Kings, where his reign is described only briefly (I Kings 22:41-50) and he is a secondary figure compared to Ahab (cf. I Kings 22:1-38; II Kings 3:4-27). (Kelly, Retribution and Eschatology in Chronicles, 98)

The last notable event of Jehosphat’s reign occurs when an eastern coalition forms primed to invade Judah. This assailing confederation is comprised of Moabites, Ammonites and Meunites (II Chronicles 20:1). Naturally alarmed in the face of daunting odds (II Chronicles 20:3), Jehoshaphat responds radically: He prays, declares a national fast and assembles his country (II Chronicles 20:3-13). Prayer is Jehoshaphat’s first, not last, resort.

After being encouraged by a prophecy assuring that Judah would attain victory without having to fight (II Chronicles 20:14-17), Jehoshaphat consults his constituents and the army marches to the would-be battlefield praising God (II Chronicles 20:18-21). The king implores the people, “Put your trust in the Lord your God and you will be established. Put your trust in His prophets and succeed” (II Chronicles 20:20 NASB).

Paul K. Hooker (b. 1953) interprets:

King and people assemble at Tekoa, east of Jerusalem in the Judahite highlands. As they assemble, Jehoshaphat gives them what in other situations might have been battle instructions. Here, however, we have...religious admonition: “Believe in the LORD your God and you will be established [II Chronicles 20:20].” One final time, the Chronicler returns to the theme of trust. The language here is reminiscent of Isaiah 7:9: “If you do not stand firm in faith, you shall not stand at all” (the verb translated “stand firm” in Isaiah is the same as that translated “be established” here). The link between faith and victory is explicit: Belief, not strength of arms, is the key to the deliverance of God. (Hooker, First and Second Chronicles (Westminster Bible Companion), 213)

Leslie Allen (b. 1935) concurs:

Jehoshaphat’s battle speech on the morrow places a premium on faith. It echoes the message of Isaiah in a similar context of military threat , a message rendered more effectively by its Hebrew wordplay: “Have firm faith, or you will not stand firm” (Isaiah 7:9 NEB). In expression of such faith orders are given for anticipatory praise to be sung afresh, as on the day before in the temple precincts. The praise looks forward to a manifestation of God’s “steadfast love” (RSV), promised “forever” (II Chronicles 20:21) and so for today. The praise here replaces the shout associated with Holy War (see Judges 7:20; II Chronicles 13:15). It accentuates the fact that the people’s part was not to fight but to be spectators of the divine defeat of the foe, in accord with the prophet’s promise (II Chronicles 20:15, 17). (Allen, 1, 2 Chronicles (Mastering the Old Testament), 308)

Jehoshaphat’s faith has blossomed. J.G. McConville (b. 1951) charts:

The Jehoshaphat of II Chronicles 20:20 is one who has come from his initial fear (II Chronicles 20:3) to a new confidence that God is for him. His exhortation to Judah, “Believe in the Lord your God and you will be established (II Chronicles 20:20), is similar to the prophet Isaiah’s appeal to Ahaz (Isaiah 7:9). The thought may be paraphrased. Trust in the Lord your God, and you will find him trustworthy. There is in the exhortation a call to commitment. The trustworthiness of the Lord cannot be known until one begins to make decisions on the basis of his promises, staking wealth and welfare on the outcome—just as it is impossible to know certainly that a chair will bear one’s weight without actually sitting on it. (McConville, I & II Chronicles (The Daily Study Bible Series), 195)

As David had done in preparing the ark of the covenant (I Chronicles 13:1), the monarch collaborates rather than dictates. Sara Japhet (b. 1934) comments:

The Chronicler’s familiar ‘democratizing’ tendency...with its constant reference to the active participation of the people...is epitomized, with the king actually taking counsel with the people in a matter of military tactics, or cultic activity, ordinarily defined as a kingly prerogative. After having been made his full partners in his initiative and responsibility, his subjects will deservedly share the reward of victory. (Japhet, I and II Chronicles: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 797)

The people collectively resolve to praise God while entering battle.

When he [Jehoshaphat] had consulted with the people, he appointed those who sang to the Lord and those who praised Him in holy attire, as they went out before the army and said, “Give thanks to the Lord, for His lovingkindness is everlasting.” (II Chronicles 20:21 NASB)

Jehoshaphat appoints a choir to lead the nation onto the battlefield. Frederick J. Mabie (b. 1965) surmises:

The men appointed by Jehoshaphat to lead singing to God and praise for the “splendor of his holiness” (II Chronicles 20:21) are presumably Levites (on the musical service of Levites, cf. I Chronicles 6:31-48, 23:2-32, 25:1-7). Going to battle in song is found in several key battles of faith in the Old Testament and seems to underscore an especially intentional focus on God and his strength (cf. Joshua 6:1-21; II Chronicles 13:3-20). (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] and David E. Garland [b.1947], 1 Chronicles–Job (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary), 245)

Singing en route to battle is not entirely unique in the annals of the Old Testament (Joshua 6:4-20; Judges 7:18-20; II Chronicles 13:12; Psalm 47:5) and the story also has extra-biblical parallels. Kenneth C. Way (b. 1975) compares:

This account shares interesting similarities to the Old Aramaic memorial stela of Zakkur (The Context of Scripture 2.35:155), king of Hamath, who also faced a coalition of enemy nations, cried out to his god, and received a similar divine response by means of cultic personnel...The date of the events in II Chronicles 20 is difficult to determine, but an early setting in Jehoshaphat’s reign seems likely. References to the “terror of God” being upon Judah’s enemies and to Judah enjoying a period of peace both occur at the end of this episode and in a passage describing the early events of Jehoshaphat’s reign (II Chronicles 17:10, 20:29-30) (see Gary N. Knoppers [b. 1956] 1991, 518). Furthermore, the mention of the “new court” of the temple (II Chronicles 20:5) may hint that the repairs made by his father, Asa, were relatively recent II Chronicles 15:8]. (Bill T. Arnold [b. 1955] and H.G.M. Williamson [b. 1947], Dictionary of the Old Testament: Historical Books, 532-33)

In the midst of crisis, the nation sings the opening line to the 136th Psalm (II Chronicles 20:21; Psalm 136:1), a recurring refrain in Chronicles (I Chronicles 16:34; II Chronicles 5:13, 7:3, 20:21). Martin J. Selman (1947-2004) chronicles:

Both the form and content of this song of praise are based on the use of psalms in temple worship. The appointed ‘musicians’...were Levites (cf. I Chronicles 6:31-32, 25:1-31), their song was taken from Chronicles’ favorite psalm (Psalm 136:1; cf. I Chronicles 16:34; II Chronicles 5:13, 7:3) and the phrase the splendour of his holiness...is found elsewhere only in the Psalms (Psalm 29:2, 96:9; I Chronicles 16:29). The outstanding feature, however, is that as they began to sing and praise (II Chronicles 20:22), the Lord started the battle. There can be no clearer indication that this was neither an ordinary battle nor a traditional holy war, but Yahweh’s war in which he acted on his own. In that sense, it anticipates Jesus’ victory on the cross, though that was accompanied by silence rather than singing. (Selman, 2 Chronicles (Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries), 428)

The battle becomes an opportunity for worship. Winfried Corduan (b. 1949) comments:

The same spirit of praise continued as Jehoshaphat and his army set out for the Judean desert the next morning. As the troops left Jerusalem, the king turned the military mission into a “singspiration.” He reassured everyone of God’s promise and appointed song leaders to lead the soldiers in praise choruses. Soon everyone joined in the familiar tune, Give thanks to the LORD, for his love endures forever. This anthem was associated with the occasions when David and then Solomon moved the ark of the covenant (I Chronicles 16:41; II Chronicles 5:13). God was on the march again! (Corduan, I & II Chronicles (Holman Old Testament Commentary), 277)

Steven S. Tuell (b. 1956) determines:

The advance of Jehoshaphat’s host is more a liturgical procession than a military maneuver. (Tuell, First and Second Chronicles (Interpretation: a Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 183)

Andrew E. Hill (b. 1952) agrees:

H.G.M. Williamson [b. 1947], almost humorously, has commented that the battle cry has been replaced by the Levitical chorale. The report of an army going into battle singing the praises of God is unique in the Bible, although music accompanies the appearance of the divine warrior when he executes judgment on the earth (Psalm 47, 96, 98). The event gives new meaning to the psalmist’s declaration that God’s “pleasure is not in the strength of the horse, not his delight in the legs of a man; the LORD delights in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love” (Psalm 147:10-11). (Hill, 1 and 2 Chronicles (The NIV Application Commentary), 491)

The nation of Judah praises God before victory has been secured. John C. Endres (b. 1946) remarks:

Levites arise to praise God with a very loud voice, which they are appointed to do, but here it seems premature, for the victory is still in the future. Jehoshaphat then rises and delivers a speech that sounds like a sermon. Believe God and you will be set firm (II Chronicles 20:20)...The Chronicler gives a theological commentary on this event: Jehoshaphat faces a test of faith, just as Ahaz faced a test of faith when Isaiah uttered the word to him. (Endres, First and Second Chronicles (New Collegeville Bible Commentary), 103)

Jehoshaphat passes the test. Victor P. Hamilton (b. 1941) favorably contrasts Jehoshaphat with his father, Asa:

When attacked by King Baasha of Israel, Asa goes the alliance route, and as a result is chided by a prophet (II Chronicles 16:7-8). Asa’s sad story is one of a shift from trust in God to trust in human power, and the tragic consequences that befall...The opposite of Asa’s latter strategy is that of Jehoshaphat when he is attacked by a military coalition (II Chronicles 20:1-30). The text records absolutely no military response by Jehoshaphat and his soldiers. Instead, they engage in liturgical acts like singing and praying, and Yahweh defeats the enemy (“As they began to sing and praise, the Lord set to ambush against the Ammonites...so that they were routed” [II Chronicles 20:22]). Philip R. Davies [b. 1945] (1992: 45) captures well the scene here: “If your cause is just and you are faithful to your deity (and if that deity is YHWH), you will not need an army to protect you. Spend your defense budget on hymnbooks and musical training for your brass band! The only army you need is the Salvation Army.” (Hamilton, Handbook on the Historical Books: Joshua, Judges, Ruth, Samuel, Kings, Chronicles, Ezra-Nehemiah, Esther , 492-93)

Jehoshaphat responds to the disastrous events with a sign of trust and his faith is rewarded. As the Lord had promised, Judah never even engages in battle. The tenuous alliance disbands as the opposition turns on one another (II Chronicles 20:22-25).

Andrew E. Hill (b. 1952) explains:

Whether God terrifies the coalition armies with the appearance of his heavenly army (as in II Samuel 5:24; II Kings 7:5-7) or sends a spirit of confusion and mistrust among the allies (as in Judges 7:22; II Kings 3:23) is unclear. What is clear is that God stirs the Transjordan armies into a spirit of frenzied self-destruction (II Chronicles 20:22-23). First, the armies of Moab and Ammon slaughter the soldiers from Seir, perhaps out of distrust (II Chronicles 20:23a). Then the Moabites and the Ammonites destroy each other so that no one escapes (II Chronicles 20:23b-24a). (Hill, 1 and 2 Chronicles (The NIV Application Commentary), 492)

Through some undisclosed mechanism God delivers Judah and the conflict is remembered as one of Jehoshaphat’s greatest triumphs.

Regardless of what had happened in the battle, in choosing to praise God, Jehosphapat has already scored a far more important victory: His faith has been demonstrated. What begins as an invasion story evolves into a classic story of faith.

Why does Jehoshaphat dismiss military strategy in favor of divine consultation? What leaders are you familiar with who have prayed publicly when facing a national crisis? What armies have gone into battle singing? Is there ever an inappropriate time to worship? Did the singing in any way trigger the discord between Judah’s adversaries? When have you not had to fight a seemingly inevitable battle? Do you truly believe that God is for you? When have you praised God before victory has been secured?

While most contemporary believers will not be surrounded by armies from multiple nations, Jehoshaphat sets a precedent. Worship is a proper response in the face of crisis and worshiping God can be done in the midst of catastrophe.

Neil T. Anderson (b. 1942) and Rich Miller (b. 1954) apply:

In response to the word of God, all the people worshiped God (II Chronicles 20:18). Worship became their battle plan to defeat the enemy. “And when he [Jehoshaphat] had consulted with the people, he appointed those who sang to the LORD and those who praised Him in holy attire, as they went out before the army and said, “Give thanks to the LORD, for His lovingkindness is everlasting.’ And when they began singing and praising, the LORD set ambushes against the sons of Ammon, Moab, and Mount Seir, who had come against Judah so they were routed” (II Chronicles 20:21-22)...Worship brings to our minds the awareness of God’s presence and fear flees! When the first hint of fear or anxiety comes into your mind, worship God. (Anderson and Miller, Freedom from Fear: Overcoming Worry and Anxiety, 274)

Worship reminds us that we are never alone. This is especially beneficial at times when we feel abandoned. Creflo A. Dollar (b. 1962) advises:

When you are faced with a life-and-death crisis, the most important thing you can remind yourself is that God’s mercy endures forever. It will stir your faith. It will move to tap in to the power of praise. (Dollar, In the Presence of God: Find Answers to the Challenges of Life)

Worship makes us keenly aware of God’s presence. Anthony De Mello (1931-1987) connects:

When we praise God for his goodness and for the good things he has given to us and to others, our hearts become lightsome and joyous...There are few forms of prayer so effective for giving you the sense that you are loved by God, or for lifting depressed spirits and overcoming temptation. Psalm 8 says, “You have established praise to destroy the enemy and avenger [Psalm 8:2],” and it was the custom among the Jews to march out into battle singing praises to the Lord. This was considered a mighty weapon for defeating the foe. (De Mello, Contact with God, 116)

Though often neglected, praising God is a useful tactic when facing trials.

How do you respond to adversity? Do you turn toward God or away from God? Do you blame or praise? How do you enter into battle?

“This is not the time to panic, this is the time to praise!” - Cynthia A. Patterson (b. 1964), It Had to Happen: Understanding that Everything You Go Through in Life is for God’s Purpose

Living up to Barnabas (Acts 4:36)

What was Barnabas’ original name? Joseph (Acts 4:36)

In a summary statement at the conclusion of its fourth chapter, Acts communicates how the earliest Christians are in one accord and share their possessions (Acts 4:32-35). The book then offers a brief concrete example in the form of a Cyprian Levite named Joseph whom the apostles dub Barnabas (Acts 4:36-37).

Now Joseph, a Levite of Cyprian birth, who was also called Barnabas by the apostles (which translated means Son of Encouragement), and who owned a tract of land, sold it and brought the money and laid it at the apostles’ feet. (Acts 4:36-37 NASB)

Barnabas liquidates his assets and donates the funds to the apostles (Acts 4:37). Even though Barnabas’ act matches the community description (Acts 4:32-35), his is still an exceptional gesture, an exemplar of Christian generosity. The notation also functions as a segue as Barnabas’ model behavior contrasts sharply with the duplicity of Ananias and Sapphira that immediately follows (Acts 5:1-11).

The apostles affectionately bestow Joseph with the added cognomen Barnabas (Acts 4:36). David J. Williams (1933-2008) records:

Literally, “Joseph who was called Barnabas from the apostles.” The preposition “from” used in the sense of “by” is odd but not without precedent. Luke employs it in this sense in Acts 2:22. Arnold Ehrhardt [1903-1965]’s suggestion that he was called “Barnabas of the apostles,” having purchased from them his right to this office is hardly convincing. (Williams, Acts (New International Biblical Commentary), 95)

Luke Timothy Johnson (b. 1943) interprets:

His introduction at precisely this point in the narrative is not accidental...In the biblical idiom, the giving of a name to others signifies having authority over them (see e.g., Genesis 2:19, 17:5, 19:39, 25:26, 36; also Joseph and Aseneth 15:7). Barnabas is therefore shown to be doubly submissive to the apostles: he receives a new name from them and lays his possessions at their feet. (Johnson, The Acts of the Apostles (Sacra Pagina), 87)

The apostles may have felt the need to give the Cyprian disciple a nickname to distinguish him from Joseph Barsabbas (Acts 1:23). Darrell L. Bock (b. 1953) considers:

Joseph is a very common name, which may explain why the apostles called him Barnabas. It is also not unusual for a person to bear two names (e.g., Saul, Paul; Peter, Simon). The meaning of the less-common name, “son of encouragement” (υἱὸς παρακλήσεως, huois parakleseos) well summarizes the way Barnabas will function in the book, as he will embrace Paul’s conversion, minister with him, and be an evangelist. (Bock, Acts (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 216)

The name Barnabas sticks as Acts never again refers to Joseph.

Acts glosses the sobriquet for the reader, noting that Barnabas means son of “encouragement” (CEV, ESV, HCSB, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV, RSV), “comfort” (MSG), “consolation” (KJV) or “exhortation” (ASV). The Greek employed is paráklesis.

Douglas A. Hume (b. 1969) informs:

ρακαλέω means literally “calling to one’s side.” Barnabas is repeatedly portrayed as metaphorically “calling to his side” characters who, like Paul before the apostles in Jerusalem (Acts 9:28), need his advocacy to gain acceptance with others or, like the church in Antioch (Acts 11:23), need encouragement to grow in new found faith. (Hume, The Early Christian Community: A Narrative Analysis of Acts 2:41-47 and 4:32-35, 141)

Ben Witherington III (b. 1951) comments:

The term παρακλησεως refers to some sort of speech activity, and to judge from Luke’s use elsewhere (cf. Luke 5:34, 10:6, 16:8, 20:34, 36 and, especially of Barnabas, Acts 11:23) the translation “encouragement” can be argued to have the edge...Since Luke does indeed have a concern to portray Barnabas not just as an encourager but perhaps even more as a preacher and missionary, on the whole the translation “son of exhortation” (=preacher) seems preferable. (Witherington, The Acts of the Apostles: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 209)

Mikeal C. Parsons (b. 1957) and Martin M. Culy (b. 1963) counter:

It is unclear whether this term refers to “encouragement” (cf. Philippians 2:1) or “exhortation” (II Corinthians 8:4). In the latter case, the description “son of exhortation” would probably indicate that Barnabas was a noted preacher...Such a view, however, does not seem consistent with the fact that Paul was the primary speaker when he and Barnabas worked as a team (Acts 14:12). (Parsons and Culy, Acts: A Handbook on the Greek Text, 84)

John Phillips (b. 1927) embraces the ambiguity:

The name means either Son of Consolation, which would indicate something of the man’s grace, or it means Son of Exhortation, which would indicate something of this man’s gift—he had the gift of prophecy. Perhaps the vagueness is deliberate. From what we learn later of this man, he was both a son of consolation and a son of exhortation. Grace and gift were well wedded in his soul. (Phillips, Exploring Acts: An Expository Commentary, 92)

It is fortunate that Acts supplies the name’s meaning as it is doubtful that this particular interpretation would have been derived otherwise. Mikeal C. Parsons (b. 1957) and Richard I. Pervo (b. 1942) evaluate:

The narrator of Acts translates the names of characters as a means of identifying them. This technique conforms to Greek practice, and the fact that the Third Gospel does not employ it is another point of differentiation...In Acts, the narrator is willing to exploit this technique...The narrator glosses “Barnabas” as “Son of encouragement” (=“one who encourages,” Acts 4:36). In actual fact this is wrong. (Parsons and Pervo, Rethinking the Unity of Luke and Acts, 69)

Acts’ translation is faulty on strictly linguistic grounds. While bar unequivocally means “son”, the second part of the compound is problematic. There is no decisive explanation as to its etymology.

Bernd Kollmann (b. 1959) acknowledges:

Etymologically the name Barnabas, unknown outside the New Testament, presents considerable problems, including its purported definition, “son of encouragement.” While bar is obviously traceable to the Aramaic...son...it is unclear from which Semitic word the second part of the name, nabas, derives. Barnabas is occasionally considered a version of Bar nebuah (“son of prophecy”), but this is not synonymous with “son of encouragement.” (Kollmann, Joseph Barnabas: His Life and Legacy, 13)

C.K. Barrett (1917-2011) researches:

It is not...clear how this meaning is to be derived from the name Barnabas. The simplest suggestion is that ‘ναβας’ is derived from the name א’בנ (son of a prophet or from אחא’בנ (or אחאו’בנ), son of prophecy, inspiration. This may well have been in Luke’s mind, or perhaps in the mind of the apostles...It is however a piece of popular rather than scientific etymology; this makes it no less probable as a popular opinion. The name is familiar in Palmyrene inscriptions (see H.J. Cadbury, [1883-1974] in FS J. Rendel Harris [1852-1941], 47f., and on the whole question Sebastian P. Brock [b. 1938] in JTS 25 (1974) 93-8)...and there seems to be little doubt that there it was originally Bar nebo, Son of Nebo (the Babylonian god). One may be confident that the apostles did not rename Joseph in this sense, and Brock...suggests that ‘Luke analysed Βαρναβας as br + nby’ (nbayya) meaning, “Son of Comfort”...A further suggestion with little to commend it is that ‘ναβας’ may be derived from נוחא, consolation; it is not clear that this word exists in Aramaic (it is not to be found in the dictionaries of Marcus Jastrow [1829-1903] and of Gustaf Dalman [1855-1941]), or how, if it does, it could give rise to the Greek letters in question. A more important observation is that Son of consolation, or comfort, could well be the meaning of the name Manaen (Acts 13:1) which is derived from the Hebrew name Menahem...Manaen shares with Barnabas a connection with Antioch; is it possible that there has been confusion between the two men? This is not impossible but can be nothing but a guess. (Barrett, Acts 1-14 (International Critical Commentary), 259)

F.F. Bruce (1910-1990) traces:

“Barnabas” might be the adaptation of a form like Palmyrene Bar-Nebo (cf. G.A. Deissman [1866-1937], Bible Studies, E.T. [Edinburgh, 1909], p. 188); another suggestion is that it represents Aram. bar newāhā’ (literally, “son of soothing”); cf. August Klostermann [1837-1915], Probleme im Aposteltexte (Gotha 1883), pp. 8-14. See Theodor Zahn [1838-1933], Die Apostelgeschichte des Lucas pp. 183-88; Sebastian P. Brock [b. 1938], ΒΑΡΝΑΒΑΣ...JTS N.S. 25 (1974) pp. 93-98. (Bruce, The Book of the Acts (New International Commentary on the New Testament), 101)

Darrell L. Bock (b. 1953) reasons:

The name may be closer to a nickname. Barnabas can be seen as a “son of a prophet,” whose function is given encouragement (Alfons Weiser [b. 1934] 1981: 138). The origin of the name is disputed. A literal rendering of the name is said by some to be “son of Nebo” (e.g., Hans Conzelmann [1915-1989] 1987:36, who says Luke is simply incorrect). On the other hand, a popular wordplay can be at work here, as often is the case in the giving of names. Such a nickname rooted in a wordplay on nabi’ would make the name’s sense “son of a prophet” (that is, a prophet, on analogy with the phrase “son of man,” meaning a human being. By extension, then, the name refers to what the prophet does by way of encouragement...Which option is likely? Against “son of Nebo” is the unlikelihood that a Jewish Levite would carry the name of a Babylonian god, which is what Nebo is (Ernst Haenchen [1894-1975] 1987: 232n2). Haenchen (1987: 232n1) rejects the connection to “son of prophet” as not possible because this expression does not equal “son of consolation.” But this ignores the connection between the prophet, what he does, and the likely wordplay nature of the name. Sebastian P. Brock [b. 1938] (1974) appeals to Syriac and the more direct idea of a “son of comfort,” which also is possible although not without linguistic obstacles of its own. Joseph A. Fitzmyer [b. 1920] (1998:321)...rejects any connection to “son of a prophet” or any other alternative, offering no elucidation of the explanation given in Acts 4:36 for the name (also John B. Polhill [b. 1939] 1992:154n80). He regards the connection simply as problematic. One wonders, however, if nicknames hold to firm linguistic rules, so that the etymology may well be a wordplay rooted in Barnabas’s prophetic function or in his established role as a comforter. (Bock, Acts (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 217)

In this instance, the scientific etymology is far less significant than the intended meaning which Acts provides. Anthony B. Robinson (b. 1948) and Robert W. Wall (b. 1947) determine:

Even though Barnabas does not literally mean “son of encouragement,” Luke’s purpose is to stipulate the subtext of Joseph’s name change to Barnabas: according to Scripture, name changes indicate God’s favor (Matthew 16:17-20). (Robinson and Wall, Called to Be Church: The Book of Acts for a New Day, 75)

Mikeal C. Parsons (b. 1957) concludes:

That the apostles have given this name is another indication that Barnabas has submitted himself to the authority of the apostles. Peter is the only other apostle to receive a new name, and his is given by Jesus. The name itself is also interesting, or more specifically the translation that the narrator provides for this name, son of encouragement (Acts 4:36b; on the rhetorical figure of appositio [Quintilian [35-100], Institutio Oratoria 8.6.40-43])...The significance lies less in the etymology of the aramaic bar-anaba than in the role Barnabas will play later in the story. Here is an interesting character study; the same spirit of submission and liberality—“of encouragement”—is seen throughout the subsequent scenes in which Barnabas appears. (Parsons, Acts (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament), 74)

Regardless of how his name is contrived, Barnabas, is without a doubt a “son of encouragement.”

Who would you put forward as an exemplar of the values that your community stresses? What is a child of encouragement? If you had to apply this moniker to one person you know, who would it be? Who has given you a nickname? Did it suit you?

Barnabas will become a major player in Acts’ narrative, including becoming Paul’s first missionary partner (Acts 11:19-30). Darrell L. Bock (b. 1953) probes:

He is referred twenty-three times in the book (Acts 4:36-37, 9:27; in Antioch: Acts 11:22, 29-30, 12:25-13:2; in mission with Paul: Acts 13:7, 43, 46, 50, 14:11-12, 14-15, 20; at the Jerusalem Council: Acts 15:2, 12, 22-26, 35-40). Barnabas will be well qualified for a mission to Gentiles, since he came from one of these Gentile areas. Part of the function of the unit is to introduce him to Luke’s audience. He surely is one of Luke’s heroes. (Bock, Acts (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 216)

Introducing a future member of the full-time cast with a cameo appearance is characteristic of Acts. Robert C. Tannehill (b. 1934) notifies:

In Acts 4:36-37 a certain Joseph Barnabas is introduced as a concrete illustration of those who sold property and brought the money to the apostles for distribution. The two verses give no indication that Barnabas will later play an important role in the story. Barnabas is a first example in Acts of the tendency to introduce an important new character first as a minor character, one who appears and quickly disappears. Philip (Acts 6:5) and Saul (Acts 7:58, 8:1, 3) are similarly introduced before they assume important roles in the narrative. This procedure ties the narrative together, and in each case the introductory scene contributes something significant to the portrait of the person. (Tannehill, The Narrative Unity of Luke-Acts, Volume 2: The Acts of the Apostles, 78)

Barnabas proves to be a true son of encouragement. William J. Larkin, Jr. (b. 1945) portrays:

Luke translates the nickname for us: Son of Encouragement, that is one who habitually manifests this quality...Barnabas is a “bridge person,” bringing diverse parties together so that the cause of Christ advances and both older and newer believers are encouraged (Acts 9:27 11:22-23, 25, 15:3, 12, 15, 30-35). For Luke he embodies the fully integrated life of external witness and care for the church’s internal needs of “a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and faith” (Acts 11:24). (Larkin, Acts (IVP New Testament Commentary), 83-84)

Steven M. Sheeley [b. 1956] encapsulates:

Each time the reader encounters Barnabas in the narrative, Barnabas is living up to his name by encouraging or exhorting those around him.” (Sheeley, Narrative Asides in Luke-Acts, 11-13)

As such, Barnabas is the son of encouragement both by identification and characterization. R. Kent Hughes (b. 1942) praises:

Barnabas was named after his spiritual gift — “Son of Encouragement,” son of exhortation, son of consolation! Every mention of Barnabas in Acts pictures him as an encourager. For example, when Paul dropped poor John Mark, Barnabas came alongside and patched him up, so that he went on to live a productive Christian life [Acts 15:36–41]. (Hughes, Acts: The Church Afire (Preaching the Word), 72)

C. Peter Wagner (b. 1930) agrees:

Barnabas was an encourager. The apostles thought so highly of this man, whose original name was Joses, that they give him a nickname, Barnabas, meaning Son of Encouragement. William LaSor [1911-1991] says, “Barnabas was good at exhorting, encouraging, comforting. He must have been a wonderful man to have been given such a wonderful name!” It seems that Barnabas had a pastor’s heart and was a phlegmatic personality type; quite a contrast from Paul, with whom a significant conflict arises almost 20 years later. (Wagner, The Book of Acts: A Commentary, 107)

Encouragement is not a trait typically listed high on most people’s preferred list of skills but it defines Barnabas and through him subsequently shapes the early church.

Who do you know whose name fits them? Does yours? What organizations can you think of who live up (or down) to their names? How would Paul and the early church have been different without Barnabas’ encouragement? If you were named for your spiritual gift, what would you be called?

“Instruction does much, but encouragement everything.” - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832), “Letter to A.F. Oeser [1717-1799], November 9, 1768)”, Early and Miscellaneous Letters of J. W. Goethe: Including Letters to His Mother, with Notes and a Short Biography, p. 27