How Low Will God Go? (Genesis 18:32)

How many faithful people did Abraham need to find in Sodom in order for the Lord not to destroy it? Ten (Genesis 18:32)

After openly debating whether to confide in Abraham (Genesis 18:16-19; John 15:15), God decides to inform the patriarch that the outcry against Sodom has warranted an investigation (Genesis 18:20-21). Accurately inferring that the city’s destruction is imminent, Abraham pleads for its survival (Genesis 18:23-32). He begins his plea with a question: “Will You indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked?” (Genesis 18:23 NASB)

Abraham does not wait for a reply. Instead he applies for a reprieve in the event that fifty righteous citizens can be found (Genesis 18:24-25). W. Sibley Towner (b. 1933) reads:

In the spirited colloquy between the Lord and Abraham that follows, the patriarch bargains tenaciously for the lives of the innocent people of Sodom. He raised the possibility that fifty righteous person might become “collateral damage” when God blitzes the city. He even hints the Lord would be unjust. The tone, if not the literal text, of Genesis 18:25 says “Shame on you!” (Towner, Genesis (Westminster Bible Companion), 171)

After being assured that the city would be spared for the sake of fifty innocents (Genesis 18:26), Abraham presses his luck. He repeats the question, reducing the requisite number by five. This process is repeated through six iterations as the patriarch gradually dwindles the minimum from 50 to 45 to 40 to 30 to 20 to 10 (Genesis 18:24-32). The text takes on a tit-for-tat pace as after each reduction, God reassures Abraham that Sodom would be spared if it met the stated requirements.

Kenneth A. Mathews (b. 1950) characterizes:

The numbers of righteous reduce by five’s, from fifty to forty (Genesis 18:24, 28a, 29a) and then ten’s from forty to ten (Genesis 18:30a, 31a, 32a). Interspersed are the Lord’s speeches, like a refrain, repeating the equivalent number in each case. This give-and-take arrangement, which in this case means Abraham “takes” and the Lord “gives,” exhibits the Lord’s grace and also Abraham’s compassion for the recalcitrant city. (Matthews, Genesis 11:27-50:26 (New American Commentary), 229)

Stuart Briscoe (b. 1930) compares:

He...engaged in a dialogue with the Lord which at first sight is reminiscent of an American tourist trying to beat down an Arab shopkeeper in the bazaars of the Old City of Jerusalem. He got a guarantee from the Lord that if there were fifty righteous people in Sodom the city would not be destroyed for their sake, but he recognized that he was overestimating the spiritual condition of Sodom. He brought down his figure by increments until the Lord promised that if there were ten righteous Sodom would be saved from judgment. The Lord had proved once again that His commitment to righteousness was inviolate. That if His servant was capable of moral integrity the Lord Himself was no stranger to rectitude and could indeed be trusted always to do what is right. (Briscoe, Genesis (Mastering the Old Testament), 166)

Perhaps sensing the time for bartering has reached its limit, the conversation abruptly ends; Abraham stops at ten and God departs (Genesis 18:32-33).

Then he [Abraham] said, “Oh may the Lord not be angry, and I shall speak only this once; suppose ten are found there?” And He said, “I will not destroy it on account of the ten.” (Genesis 18:32 NASB)

It would appear that Abraham seeks to spare the city for the sake of a few good men. Miguel A. De La Torre (b. 1958) cautions:

As we envision all of the town’s men before Lot’s house we are forced to ask: Where are the women of the city? We know by Genesis 19:4 that the men were wicked, but what about the women? When Abraham asked God...if ten righteous men could be found would the city be spared, we wonder what would have happened if Abraham would simply have asked for ten righteous persons? Patriarchy blinds us to the women’s presence in the story. All the men may have been wicked, but what about their wives? Their daughters? Is the city’s salvation or destruction based solely on the faithfulness, or lack thereof, of men? Do women who may have been righteous remain invisible? (De La Torre, Genesis: Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, 191)

Though bold enough to negotiate with God, Abraham is cautious in his interactions with the divine. Thomas L. Brodie (b. 1940) analyzes:

The bargaining, concerning the requisite number of just people to save the city, falls essentially into three parts, bringing the number first to fifty, then to thirty, and finally to ten. The language of just and wicked/evil is moral, but in this legal debate, such language also has the legal meaning of innocent and guilty. The issue: Does God punish the innocent? Abraham is careful. In pleading the case he “deploys a whole panoply of the abundant rhetorical devices of ancient Hebrew for expressing self-abasement before a powerful figure” (Robert Alter [b. 1935], 82). (Brodie, Genesis As Dialogue: A Literary, Historical, and Theological Commentary, 249)

R. Kent Hughes (b. 1942) applies:

As Abraham explored the fate of Sodom with God, beautiful things emerged about him and his God. The six “what ifs”—What if...fifty?...forty-five?...forty?...thirty?...twenty...ten?—are instructive. In all of this Abraham “hangs on to God’s skirt like a burr.” He wrestled with God like Jacob did with the angel (cf. Genesis 32:22-32). And amazingly, Abraham’s boldness grew, for notice that the last three petitions lowered the number of necessary righteous by tens! Jesus would teach his disciples that “they ought always to pray and not lose heart” (Luke 18:1). This first patriarch and disciple set the pace. And we should note that Abraham’s prayers were not without effect. As the cities of the plain went up in flames, we read tellingly that “God remembered Abraham and sent Lot out of the midst of the overflow” (Genesis 19:29). (Hughes, Genesis: Beginning and Blessing (Preaching the Word), 266)

Conspicuously, Abraham willingly breaks off the negotiations when he arrives at ten righteous citizens (Genesis 18:32). Gordon Wenham (b. 1943) comments:

Clearly Abraham feels he has reached the limit of what he dare ask. He opens with the conciliatory “Do not be angry” (Genesis 18:30) and asks to speak “just once more.” And again his request is granted, albeit with the same threatening formula as in Genesis 18:31: “I shall not ruin it.” (Wenham, Genesis 16-50 (Word Biblical Commentary), 53)

Terence E. Fretheim (b. 1936) inquires:

Why does Abraham stop at ten and not take the dialogue with God all the way down to one? Or why does Abraham not begin with the number ten (or one)? If he wanted to focus on the issue of justice in a strict sense, the presence of one righteous person would be sufficient to make his case. That is to say, for even one righteous person to die in the course of the judgment on the wicked would be unjust. Because Abraham does not begin with the lowest numbers, he must want to make another point than one of strict divine justice...Why, then, are fifty or ten righteous persons enough to spare the city, but, apparently, one to nine persons is not? It may be that the number ten represents the smallest group (some think of a minyan) and that a smaller number would be dealt with as individuals, who could be (and were) led out of the city. Nahum Sarna [1923-2005] suggests an appropriate direction for reflection. Ten represents the limit of the number of righteous individuals who could outweigh the cumulative evil of the community. Ten constitutes the “minimum effective social entity.” I prefer the language of “critical mass.” (Fretheim, Abraham: Trials of Family and Faith, 83-84)

Leon R. Kass (b. 1939) observes:

Curiously, Abraham on his own and voluntarily—“I will speak yet but this once” (Genesis 18:32)—stops the bargaining at ten. This is strange. On the principle that has driven him from the start, and that has apparently been supported at every turn by God’s response—namely, that the righteous ought not suffer—Abraham might have pressed the case to its logical conclusion: to spare the city for the sake of one righteous man. Why does Abraham break off at ten? Why does he not push all the way to one?...Abraham may have been afraid or ashamed to push to the limit, either out of a gradually increasing fear that God will judge him presumptuous or out of embarrassment at revealing a personal interest in his one kinsman. In addition, encouraged by God’s concessions, he might have become increasingly moved by feelings of awe. But fear, shame, and awe aside, Abraham may have broken off the bargaining because he may have learned something. Encouraged by God’s acceptance of his conditions, he is gradually brought to adopt the divine perspective. Like God, Abraham has begun to think about justice for a whole city. (Kass, The Beginning of Wisdom: Reading Genesis, 324)

Much has been made of why Abraham ceases his bartering at ten. Many have pointed to concern for his nephew, Lot, a resident of Sodom (Genesis 14:12), as the explanation for Abraham’s vested interest in the doomed city. In fact, this episode marks Abraham’s second intervention for Sodom and the first was clearly undertaken in deference to Lot (Genesis 14:14). Still, there were fewer than ten members of Lot’s family (Genesis 19:12-14).

Howard F. Vos (b. 1925) conjectures:

He never got so personal or selfish as to pray for relatives only. He stopped at ten, apparently presuming that Lot’s influence would guarantee at least that many righteous persons. But evidently such was not the case, as subsequent developments would demonstrate. (Vos, Genesis (Everyman’s Bible Commentary), 90)

Burton L. Visotzky (b. 1951) critiques:

Maybe Abraham got shy because his naked self-interest at saving his favorite nephew would be all too clear. When self-interest, rather than true justice, is the driving force in the bargaining, perhaps it is doomed to fail. Although it must be noted with divine irony that even as Sodom melts down, Abraham’s seed gets saved through his clout. So God destroys the city and still saves Lot. But what lesson might Abraham take from this outcome, then? (Visotzky, The Genesis of Ethics, 65)

George W. Coats (1936-2006) determines:

The point is not that Lot and his family are righteous. In the flood story, Noah survives disaster in part because of his righteousness (Genesis 7:1). But Lot is not labeled righteous, here or in chapter 19. In these negotiations, Lot never enters the discussion as a reason for appealing to the Lord for mercy. The issue is simply the contrast between wicked Sodom and the righteousness that cannot be found there (cf. Genesis 13:13). Moreover, the entire dialogue carries out the plan cited in Genesis 18:21. The grave sin is as grave as the depiction in Genesis 18:20. Thus, the negotiations constitute the probe of Yahweh into the character of the city, and the city proves void of righteousness. The unit sets the stage for chapter 19. (Coats, Genesis, with an Introduction to Narrative Literature (Forms of the Old Testament Literature), 141)

If the halting of Abraham’s petition is not connected to Lot, then why does he stop? Many explanations have been posited. Victor P. Hamilton (b. 1952) surveys:

Joseph Blenkinsopp [b. 1927] (“Abraham and the Righteous of Sodom,” Journal of Jewish Studies 33 [1982] 1230) summarizes suggestions of earlier commentators. He notes the suggestion of Ludwig Schmidt [b. 1924] (De Deo, pp. 151-156) that 50 and 10 have a special significance as military and judicial subunits. Schmidt’s proposal is that 50 stands for an extended family and 10 for the smallest unit constituting a group in the city. Perhaps for Abraham 10 was a sufficient figure to make his point, and to go beyond that number was unnecessary. Walter Brueggemann [b. 1933] (Catholic Biblical Quarterly 47 [1985] 410) says that “In its outcome the narrative is thoroughly Jewish because the bottom line is the minimum often, a minyan.” James L. Crenshaw [b. 1934] (A Whirlpool of Torment: Israelite Traditions of God as an Oppressive Presence, OBT [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984], p. 20 n. 38) suggests that in halting at 10, Abraham “stopped short of pushing the deity to the limit.” (Hamilton, The Book of Genesis: Chapters 18-50 (New International Commentary on the Old Testament Series), 24-25)

Martin Kessler (b. 1927) and Karel Deurloo (b. 1936) add:

Abraham counted off from fifty to ten, but to complete the number of six questions, the narrator had him say fifty minus five, which YHWH, who knows his math, calculated as forty-five. Abraham could not go beyond ten. In Judaism, ten is the minimal congregation of the righteous (minyan), which could represent the whole city. After six days of work, the seventh day is YHWH’s. Thus, Abraham let the seventh possibility open for YHWH, for he remained concerned about Lot. Only in that seventh possibility would Abraham’s intercession have any effect at all (Genesis 19:29), since the other six had failed. (Kessler and Deurloo, Commentary on Genesis: The Book of Beginnings, 116)

Tellingly, the basis of Abraham’s appeal is God’s justice, not the city’s righteousness. Victor P. Hamilton (b. 1952) outlines:

It appears that Abraham’s concern is twofold. His first concern, as expressed in Genesis 18:23, is whether Yahweh would indiscriminately kill the innocent along with the guilty. Thus, in Genesis 18:23 the emphasis is on the preservation of the saddîq. But in Genesis 18:24-32. Abraham expands his concern to include the preservation of the city/the place (hā‘îr/lammāqôm) because of the presence of the saddîq...Nowhere does Abraham challenge God’s evaluation of Sodom’s moral turpitude. The judgment is not up for debate. Nor does he at any point turn to Sodom to urge repentance. Rather, he turns to God to ask for divine mercy. (Hamilton, The Book of Genesis: Chapters 18-50 (New International Commentary on the Old Testament Series), 24-25)

Abraham fully admits that he is rooting for the minority to win the day. Laurence A. Turner interprets:

Note that Abraham does not plead for the salvation of a righteous remnant from the destruction of Sodom. Abraham knows his nephew better than that (see Genesis 13:8-13). In addition, Abraham has met the Sodomites first hand (Genesis 14:1-24), which has surely made him aware of the information divulged to the reader in Genesis 13:13, ‘Now the people of Sodom were wicked, great sinners against the Lord’. Knowing this, he may well wonder what corrupting effect they have had on Lot. As a result, Abraham pleads for the salvation of the whole city, on the basis of the vicarious righteousness of a minority of 10. In his pleading, Abraham divides the inhabitants of Sodom into two mutually exclusive groups: the righteous and the wicked (Genesis 18:23, 25). Abraham’s plea for the vicarious salvation of the whole city means that regardless of whether Lot is deemed to be righteous or wicked, he will be saved along with the rest of the city—if there are 10 righteous Sodomites (see Genesis 7:1-10, 19:30-38). (Turner, Genesis (Readings: A New Biblical Commentary), 82)

Regardless of his motives, Abraham’s actions are groundbreaking. This dialogue marks a major turning point in salvation history (Genesis 18:23-32). David Rosenberg (b. 1943) explains:

Tracing Abraham’s drama of these tentative iterations of a final agreement—to spare the cities if even ten innocent people can be found here—... [leaves] this danger of allowing evil to persist. Ten innocent individuals existing in Sodom certainly will not erase that evil. But Abraham is articulating what has never been accessible in any cosmic theater: the decision about evil is no longer a singular drama in the mind of a god. Now, it is one that has been joined in by humankind; that is what makes it more complex and costly...Abraham is not merely balancing moral weights on Sumerian scales here, but actively engaging with Yahweh in the creation of a realistic theater. Similarly, the vulnerability assumed by Yahweh in turn is staggering, for while ten innocents cannot erase or undo the evil, evil can erase or undo creation...It is now up to mortal men and women to negotiate and explore the way of God within a cosmic theater, and not to simply struggle with the dictates of a god. (Rosenburg, Abraham: The First Historical Biography, 218-19)

In permitting Abraham to intercede for Sodom, God is allowing humans the opportunity to shape history. And humanity has had that option ever since.

Why does Abraham intercede for Sodom? Is he more concerned with divine justice or his nephew’s fate? Are you concerned with international affairs? Given that God has accepted every one of his propositions, why does Abraham stop at ten? Does Abraham’s dickering have any affect? Have you ever bartered with God? When have you interceded for another? Would God destroy the righteous with the wicked; does God tolerate collateral damage? How many innocent people were dwelling in Sodom? How many righteous residents would it have taken to spare the city?

The questions that God answers are not near as tantalizing as the one that the text leaves dangling: Would God sweep away the righteous with the wicked (Genesis 18:23)? Perhaps sensing this tension, Josephus (37-100) denotes that there are no righteous in Sodom (Antiquities 1.199). In moving the dialogue towards the negotiations, Abraham lets his initial question linger.

Some have speculated that Abraham leaves satisfied; the theological point having been made. Allen P. Ross (b. 1943) pinpoints:

This passage [Genesis 18:16-33] has most frequently (and legitimately) been treated for its emphasis on intercession; the predominant theme of the whole section, however, is justice. This motif grows out of the preceding narrative, which stressed that God was able to do whatever he chose to do. But would it be just? The answer to this question was a foregone conclusion, which Abraham’s intercession demonstrated. It is clear from the outset of the story that Abraham’s intercession was not going to alter the situation, for Sodom and Gomorrah deserved judgment. The narrator thus used the intercession to show that the destruction of the cities of the plain would be just. (Ross, Creation and Blessing: A Guide to the Study and Exposition of Genesis, 347)

Gerhard Von Rad (1901-1971) writes:

The discontinuance of the conversation at “ten innocent” has given rise to many reflections...His refusal to go on from the ten innocent to five and finally to one, raises many questions need not mean that the conversation ends with an open question. Apparently Abraham and the narrator, at Yahweh’s answer in Genesis 18:32, reached a final limit, to ask beyond which did not occur to Abraham. Thereby, in our opinion, the narrative guards the uniqueness and marvel of the message about the one who brings salvation and reconciliation for “many” (Isaiah 53:5, 10); for this was not anything expected or inferred from men. Besides Isaiah 53, one should refer to Hosea 11:8-9 for the ultimate consequence not drawn in our conversation: God does not want to destroy, rather his heart ‘recoils”; he is as a holy one “in your midst”...The righteous one who redeems, the holy one is here not a man but God himself (Kurt Galling [1900-1987], Deutsche Theologie 1939, 86ff). (Von Rad, Genesis: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 214)

In contrast, Susan Brayford (b. 1950) suspects:

When God again admits he will not destroy on account of ten, Abraham perhaps wishes he could speak once again. However, he said he would not [Genesis 18:32]. Just in case Abraham decides to ask for more – or less, God stops speaking to Abraham and departs [Genesis 18:33]. Abraham, no longer having a conversation partner, returns to his place. Inasmuch as Abraham never again engages in an extended conversation with God, his ‘place’ is both literal (where he is living) and figurative (not equal to God). (Brayford, Genesis (Septuagint Commentary Series), 317)

As such, the text ends with Abraham’s initial inquiry unresolved. Robert Ignatius Letellier (b. 1953) notes:

Interestingly for the general structure of the whole narrative complex, the last answer “For the sake of ten I will not destroy it” (Genesis 18:32) is ambiguous since it resolves the tension provoked by Abraham’s last question but does not terminate the anxiety generated by Abraham’s intercession generally...The unresolved issues of Genesis 18 span the break with Genesis 19 and look to ensuing events for resolution. (Letellier, Day in Mamre, Night in Sodom: Abraham and Lot in Genesis 18 and 19, 51)

W. Lee Humphreys (b. 1939) expounds:

There it ends—at ten. “And Yahweh went as he finished speaking to Abraham, and Abraham returned to his place” (Genesis 18:33). Their dialogue ends, but we are not sure where we stand, for we are not told what the speakers think, know, or feel about it. The whole scene appears a bit askew upon reflection. Yahweh tells Abraham he will go down but does not go when Abraham does not pick up on his going. Abraham switches the issue from what Yahweh proposes to do to concern for Yahweh’s justice, and his nature as “judge of all the earth” (Genesis 18:25). Yahweh enters this new frame of reference, but in a most literal way that may well subvert it. The back and forth, then, in terms of such literal calculations, ends with a resolution in which little is resolved. (Humphreys, The Character of God in the Book of Genesis: A Narrative Appraisal, 122)

The question of the fate of the city that houses five or even one righteous soul is left for another day. This discussion will ultimately end with Jesus: One will be enough.

Walter Brueggemann (b. 1933) interprets:

The discussion ends with a dismaying abruptness. First, its abruptness is striking because it ends at a figure of ten (Genesis 18:33). One might insist, if we were calculating mathematicians, that that ending shows there must be ten and that nine will not do. But, one would fail to see the point. Rather, the conversation breaks off because the point is established that the power of righteousness overrides evil. The dramatic exploration need not be carried further. Second, the narrative is abrupt because after the deep struggle of chapter 18 the stroy of chapter 19 goes ahead as though nothing is changed. That is likely because (1) chapter 19 is old traditional material that could not be altered in the telling and (2) because the dialogue of chapter 18 is a new theological probing that only raises a fresh question still to be pursued rather than reaching a firm conclusion as a basis for chapter 19. The possibility raised by Abraham is perhaps too radical. It is suggested and then left to germinate in the heart of God. The issue remains between new affirmation (Genesis 18:22-33) and old tradition (Genesis 19:1-28). The principle of a new righteousness is affirmed in Genesis 18:22-33. These verses (Genesis 19:1-28) sound as though the concern is only to rescue the innocent (Lot and his family) without a care for the guilty. The popular theology of Genesis 19:1-28 moves in the direction of individualism and will be easily accepted by conventional believers. Previously, Genesis 18:22-33 carries with it a more difficult theology that will be intellectually more demanding. It stands against the usual moralism of each receiving his or her due. It is the good news of Genesis 18:22-33 and not the convention of Genesis 19:1-28 that moves toward Jesus of Nazareth. And like a subtle reprise, even in the conventionalism of chapter 19, Genesis 19:29 adds one whisper from chapter 18. Lot is saved not by his righteousness but vicariously by the power of Abraham...By the new mathematics of Genesis 18:22-33 (and Genesis 19:29), one is enough to save (Romans 5:15-17). (Brueggemann, Genesis (Interpretation: a Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 172-73)

R.R. Reno (b. 1959) deciphers:

As he presses God on behalf of the possible righteous residents of Sodom and Gomorrah, we see that those called to fellowship with God intercede as well. In this way Abraham foreshadows Moses, who intercedes on behalf of the sinful Israelites, as well as the Levitical priesthood that sacrifices on behalf of the people. Abraham even more clearly prefigures Christ. Abraham urges God to accept the righteousness of a few as sufficient for the salvation of the sinful many. Abraham stops at ten, but as the history of the covenant moves forward the righteousness of Christ alone is sufficient for the deliverance of all. Christ Jesus sits “at the right hand of God...[and] intercedes for us” (Romans 8:34). Christ is like Abraham, petitioning his Father on our behalf: “Suppose there was one man found righteous, wilt thou not spare the city of man for his sake?” (Reno, Genesis (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 186)

God will not only answer definitely that one righteous individual will be enough to save the populace, God will supply the One.

Do you think that Abraham regretted breaking off the conversation when he did or is he content with the conversation’s resolution? Is God more or less merciful than Abraham had imagined? What would the city’s fate have been if a lone righteous soul had been found in Sodom? What is the most impact one person has had on a community? What impact do you have on yours?

“One person can make a difference and every person should try.” - John F. Kennedy (1917-1963)

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