This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.

//Jesus, says the Gospel of Luke, was born while Quirinius was governor of Syria. But there’s a problem with this: Quirinius didn’t become governor until 6 AD, and Luke also claims that Herod the Great was still alive (see Luke 1:5). Herod died in 4 BC.

I got into a heated discussion about this on a forum, and though this sort of first-century history is a bit dry to most of you, I decided to set the record straight on my blog. Yes, Luke erred, pure and simple.

The Christian Think Tank at http://christianthinktank.com/quirinius.html takes several stabs at reconciling this problem. They propose that Quirinius performed a different census ten years earlier, while Herod still lived. They conjecture that:

1. Maybe Rome DID have a reason for taking a census of Judea before rule passed from Herod to Rome.

2. Maybe Herod DID cooperate with a Syrian governor for such a census, through some unlikely agreement, though he certainly wouldn’t have felt required to.

3. Therefore, maybe a census WAS ordered and completed by Augustus in the final years of Herod’s life, for which we have no record. Evidence is presented by the think tank for a similar census by Caesar Augustus in 2-3 BC, but if this census was of Judea, this just makes another census a year or two earlier (while Herod lived) even more unlikely.

4a. Maybe Quirinius was governer of Syria once earlier, and the appointment in 6 AD was his second governorship. This is remotely possible, and the think tank presents an obscure letter indicating that somebody served as governor of Syria twice. Maybe it was Quirinius, who knows. Thus, when Luke refers to the “first census” in today’s verse, he would be referring to one before the known census of 6 AD.

4b. Or, perhaps every common translation of the Bible is wrong, and when Luke says “while Quirinius was governor” he meant “before Quirinius was governor.” My grasp of Greek is not strong enough to argue one way or the other, but I tend to side with the majority against this idea. For one thing, if Luke is talking about a census in 4 BC or earlier, why include this trivia about the appointment of Quirinius over Syria ten years later? This one simply makes no sense.

What we have is a series of compounded unlikely maybe’s. 1, 2, 3 and 4a or 4b must all be true. There remains a very slim chance that Luke wasn’t in error, but responsible historians do not recognize this sort of speculation as legitimate scholarship.

Therefore if you have not been faithful in the unrighteous mammon, who will commit to your trust the true riches?

//Mammon means money, and this is Jesus speaking, calling money unrighteous.

What’s wrong with money? It’s a good question. So reliant are we upon money that we can’t imagine Jesus preaching against it. We take that verse in Timothy about the love of money being the root of all evil, and overemphasize the words “love of;” thus it’s not money that’s evil, but our love of it that’s evil. I guess it’s fine if you have money, so long as you hate it, eh?

Like so many other teachings, this one just doesn’t make much sense unless you read it in the context of first-century Jewry. In a society skilled in surviving by the barter system, money had limited purpose. It was used to pay taxes, tolls, and tribute. It served as propaganda, being stamped with the image of the emperor—a horrid thing to devout Jews, who were taught that graven images were wrong. When Jesus was asked whether it was proper to pay tribute to Caesar, notice that he didn’t even have a coin on him … he had to ask for one. Judas, who was asked to carry the money bag for Jesus’ entourage, wasn’t being given a place of prominence … he was given a necessary evil.

In this light, you can see how most every connotation of money to urban Jews was negative. It represented political and religious control, in direct contrast to the prophets’ dream of a world where everyone shared in God’s earth and had plenty to eat and drink.

…and where be all [God’s] miracles which our fathers told us of….?

//I’m not very good at believing in miracles. Oh, I don’t mean the run-of-the-mill “I found a new apartment on the day I got kicked out of the old one” variety. I mean real, fire-from-heaven, rising-from-the-dead stuff. And the biggest reason I, like many others, struggle to believe, is that we don’t see any of this stuff happening today.

1. Moses

2. Elijah and Elisha

3. Jesus and the apostles

Why does God intervene with miracles during these three periods, and then suppress his divine power the rest of the time? Why does he disappear for hundreds, even thousands, of years at a time? Might it be that these are the three periods in history when God was confirming a new truth or revelation—the only three times God found it necessary to really stick his finger in our business and swirl it around a little?

//We’re still discussing which Zechariah Jesus was referring to when he mentioned a man killed between the altar and the temple. Four Zechariahs each seem to fit a little. Here are the four we’re considering, stepping backward in time:

Post 1: A man killed in the Zealot uprising of 66-70 AD.

Post 2: The father of John the Baptist.

Post 3: The prophet Zechariah, of the Bible book of Zechariah

Post 4 (today): A priest from the 8th century BC.

Let me give you the words of Jesus from Matthew one more time:

Today’s verse, about Zechariah #4, seems to describe just such an incident. An Aramaic commentary on the Book of Lamentations (called the Targum Lamentations) also mentions a murder in the temple, of a high priest named Zechariah son of Iddo. This murder occurred on the Day of Atonement … the one day of the year that a man would be precisely where Jesus indicates: between the altar and the holy of holies. (We’re assuming Jesus means the alter of incense, not the big altar of sacrifice).

Recall that Zechariah #3 had a grandfather named Iddo (see yesterday’s post), so it’s possible the Targum is confused between the two. Lamentations was written before Zechariah  #3 came on the scene, so it would be a bit odd that a commentary about Lamentations would mention Zechariah #3.

The event described in today’s verse happened in the first temple period. That’s long before Jesus, making it strange that he would refer to this incident, and where Zechariah #4 died in “the court of the house of the Lord” doesn’t quite match “between the temple and the altar,” and Zechariah #4 isn’t killed by priests as Jesus insinuates (for one thing, only a priest was allowed “between the temple and the altar”) but by officials of Judah who wanted to worship pagan deities. But there is one good reason for imagining that #4 is the right Zechariah. It’s that in the Hebrew Bible, Chronicles was the last book of the Old Testament. Thus, when Jesus says “from Abel to Zechariah,” he is saying “from the first book of the Bible to the last.”

The biggest problem with this conjecture, of course, is that Zechariah in #4 is the son of Jehoiada, whereas Matthew writes that he is the son of Berechiah. Oops! Well, it may have been a simple error on Jesus’ or Matthew’s part. Or on the part of a later copyist: some evidence exists that the verse may have originally not specified any “son of”, but merely said “Zechariah.” (The Codex Sinaiticus from the 4th century, considered the oldest complete Bible in existence, does not contain the phrase “son of Berechiah.”)

In the end, the majority of Bible scholars tend to lean toward Zechariah #4. My own opinion? It’s that all four are equally correct. Bible writers and copyists, as discussed in my books about John’s Gospel and Revelation, sometimes tended to see truth as cyclical, happening over and over. Thus, they saw each individual Zechariah’s story as a contribution to the whole.

//In trying to decide which Zechariah was murdered in the Temple, we now reach back to a very well-known figure: the prophet Zechariah, as identified with the Bible book of Zechariah. He is said to be the son of Berechiah, matching what Jesus said in Matthew 23:35:

That on you may come all the righteous blood shed on the earth, from the blood of righteous Abel to the blood of Zechariah, son of Berechiah, whom you murdered between the temple and the altar. 

Thus, on the surface this Zechariah seems to be the most logical candidate. While Zechariah was a popular name in Jewish culture, this Zechariah was by far the most well-known. But we know absolutely nothing about how he died.

Was Jesus (and presumably his listeners) privy to writings or stories that we do not have today? Might there have been a popular understanding that Zechariah the prophet did indeed die just this way? We just don’t know.

We’ll cover one last possibility tomorrow.

//Yesterday, I quoted a verse in Matthew in which Jesus speaks of a murder in the Temple. Here it is again:

That on you may come all the righteous blood shed on the earth, from the blood of righteous Abel to the blood of Zechariah, son of Berechiah, whom you murdered between the temple and the altar. –Matthew 23:35

So who is this mysterious Zechariah? One possibility, discussed yesterday, is that this Zacharias/Zechariah was a man who died in the war of 66-70 AD. Today’s verse provides another Zechariah: the father of John the Baptist.

This makes a lot of sense, as this Zechariah lived in Jesus’ time. It thus makes sense for Jesus to say “from Abel to Zechariah.” We have no Biblical record of how John’s father died, but we do have this story in the Infancy Gospel of James:

And Herod searched for John, and sent officers to Zacharias, saying: Where has thou hid thy son? And he, answering, said to them: I am the servant of God in holy things, and I sit constantly in the temple of the Lord: I do not know where my son is. And the officers went away, and reported all these things to Herod. And Herod was enraged, and said: His son is destined to be king over Israel. And he sent to him again, saying: Tell the truth; where is thy son? for thou knowest that thy life is in my hand. And Zacharias said: I am God’s martyr, if thou sheddest my blood; for the Lord will receive my spirit, because thou sheddest innocent blood at the vestibule of the temple of the Lord. And Zacharias was murdered about daybreak. And the sons of Israel did not know that he had been murdered.

So was the father of John the Baptist murdered? The Infancy Gospel of James is considered pseudepigraphical (not written by the person it is attributed to) and dated to about the mid-2nd century, so it’s hard to fully trust. However, no less a respected church father than Origen suggests that the Zechariah mentioned by Jesus was indeed John the Baptist’s father.

Another solution tomorrow.

//Here is a puzzle that continues to intrigue Bible scholars. Who is the Zechariah that Jesus is talking about? In the next four posts, I’ll present four different opinions.

Let’s start with a discovery that I made while researching for my book about Revelation. Josephus, a Jewish historian, describes the death of a man named Zechariah, son of Baruch, who died during the uprising of the Zealots. Baruch is, essentially, the same name as Berechiah. Only the -YH suffix makes a difference.

This Zechariah was brought before the court on trumped-up charges, and was declared not guilty. The Zealots executed him anyway, at the temple: “Two of the boldest of them fell upon Zacharias in the middle of the temple, and slew him, and said, Thou hast also our verdict, and this will prove a more sure acquittal to thee than the other. They also threw him down out of the temple immediately into the valley beneath it.” Zechariah’s blood spilled “in the holy place,” and dead bodies were heaped around the altar, until it ran with blood.

This would have happened about 35 years after Jesus died, but before Matthew’s Gospel was penned. Early Christians, of course, recognized the great war (in which the Temple was destroyed) as sort of a necessary tribulation ending the prior age and preceding the age of God’s rule; thus, Jesus’ message in today’s verse described all of mankind’s history from beginning (Abel) to end (Zechariah).

But is this the Zechariah Matthew refers to? How strange would it be for Jesus to predict the death of a man in this fashion? More possibilities tomorrow.

//Note the semicolon in today’s verse. What you’re reading is a form of Hebrew poetry (though written in Greek, of course), known as parallelism. Nathanael seems to make two claims: (1) Jesus is the Son of God, and (2) Jesus is the King of Israel.

But this is not what Nathaniel meant. Readers of a Hebrew mindset would immediately recognize that the second half of the claim is a restatement of the first. In Nathanael’s mind, the two statements are one and the same, just poetically reinforced. Only the Son of God could be King of Israel; only the King of Israel could be the Son of God.

Throughout Israel’s history, its kings were known as divinely-appointed representatives of God. They were called sons of God. The difference with Jesus, of course, is that he is the son of God, not merely a son of God. He is understood by Nathaniel to be the final, greatly-anticipated king, whom God would raise up to rule forever. The Jewish Messiah.

We can use this understanding to shed light on other places where the phrase “Son of God” is used. Take this passage written by Paul to the Romans. It has nothing whatsoever to do with being the literal offspring of God.

Concerning his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, which was made of the seed of David according to the flesh; And declared to be the Son of God with power, according to the spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead. –Romans 1:3-4

Paul was an adoptionist before the term ever became known; he understood that Jesus became the Son of God at his resurrection. That is because Paul recognized Jesus as being anointed king at the moment he rose from the dead. Jesus was born of men, a descendant according to the flesh, and declared to be the Son of God after he died … and God raised him up to be his Son.

//Compare the above verse, in which the author of Timothy seems to be referring to the Gospel of Luke and calling it scripture, to its apparent source:

And in the same house remain, eating and drinking such things as they give: for the labourer is worthy of his hire. Go not from house to house. –1 Timothy 5:18

If it’s true that 1 Timothy is quoting Luke, then we can draw one of two conclusions:

1. If you’re a conservative Christian, believing that Paul wrote the book of 1 Timothy, then it provides great evidence that the Gospel of Luke was written quite early. Paul died in the mid-60’s.

2. If you’re a more skeptical Bible scholar, believing that stories of Jerusalem’s downfall in Luke require it to have been written after the war of 70 AD, then it appears that Paul didn’t write the book of 1 Timothy.

And round and round we go.

//Acts is a puzzling book. On the one hand, its miracle stories are so bizarre that they are hard to believe, given the lack of corroborating writings. On the other hand, it is chock full of references to real historical figures for which we do have non-Christian corroboration. Most of this corroboration comes from Josephus, a first-century Jewish historian. Here is a list of people mentioned in Acts that are also written about by Josephus:

Agrippa I (Acts 12:124)

Agrippa II (Acts 25:13-26:32)

Annas (Acts 4:6)

Bernice, wife of Agrippa II (Acts 23:13)

Caiaphas (many references)

Claudius (Acts 11:28, 18:2)

Drusilla, wife of Felix (Acts 24:24)

The Egyptian false prophet (Acts 21:38)

Felix (Acts 23:24-25:14)

Gamiliel (Acts 5:34, 22:3)

Judas the Galilean (Acts 5:37)

Porcius Festus (Acts 24:27-26:32)

There are a few other historical figures in Acts confirmed by archaeological evidence: Erastus, Gallio, and Sergius Paulus. Josephus didn’t mention these. Yet the above list is startling; it’s almost like the book of Acts took its cast of characters from Josephus’ writings.

There is a recent trend among Bible scholars of dating the book of Acts quite late, well into the second century, based upon an apparent dependency on the writings of Josephus. Could these scholars be right?

//The book of Acts tells of many miracles that Paul performed. I’ve noticed a tendency among scholars to distrust these supernatural accounts, based on Paul’s own lack of writing about them. The opinion seems to be that Luke, who wrote the Acts of the Apostles, boldly elaborated on several stories to make them seem miraculous.

But hold on. Not so fast. Paul DOES confirm his own miracle-working ability, or at least he seems to.

Virtually every Bible scholar agrees that the book of 2 Corinthians was written by Paul, and today’s verse is in the context of pointing out Paul’s own qualifications as an apostle. Surely Paul was speaking about himself as he reminded the Corinthians of signs, wonders, and mighty deeds “wrought among them.” This, says Paul, is what validates his apostleship.

Did legends later grow from this vague claim, or was Paul confirming precisely the miracles described in the book of Acts?

//Authorship of John’s Gospel has traditionally been understood to be quite late … in the tenth decade of the first century. However, a number of Bible scholars—usually, the more conservative believers—date John’s Gospel quite early. Perhaps in the seventh decade.

There is good reason for the controversy. The author seems to know an awful lot about Judea and Jerusalem, and his knowledge dates to before the war of 70 AD. Today’s verse is a good example. The pool of Bethesda, particularly with its five colonnades, would not likely be known to an eye-witness of Jerusalem after the destruction of the war. There was no such architecture surviving the war! Note also the present tense of the verse: there is in Jerusalem a pool…

How can this be explained if most scholars date John to the tenth decade? Answer: the book grew over time. Current scholarship tends to recognize this Gospel as having been written over a period of perhaps 30-40 years, from roughly 60-100 AD.

//John’s Gospel is recognized as the gospel with the highest Christology–that is, the gospel which describes Jesus in the most divine terms. John bluntly equates Jesus with God, and though scholars have uncovered hints in the other three gospels in that direction, none is so forthright as John’s Gospel.

Oddly, at the same time, John also speaks of Jesus in quite human terms, and even distances Jesus from God! Today’s verse provides a good example. Even after the resurrection, Jesus does not claim Godship, but rather states that he is returning to God. This hardly fits with the idea that the author was intent on portraying Jesus as God.

So, while few Bible readers need help finding the verses in John that equate Jesus with God, it might be interesting here to list a few which seem to contradict that idea.

John 7:12: Among the crowds there was widespread whispering about him. Some said, “He is a good man.” Others replied, “No, he deceives the people.” It seems odd that the two predominant opinions about Jesus was that he was either a good man or a deceiver. If Jesus taught that he was God (as all of the signs in John seem to imply) then the two opinions should be that he is either God or a deceiver.

John 14:28: “You heard me say, ‘I am going away and I am coming back to you.’ If you loved me, you would be glad that I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I. Jesus’ self-depreciation hardly seems consistent with the idea that he shares Godship with the Father.

John 17:7-8: Now they know that everything you have given me comes from you. For I gave them the words you gave me and they accepted them. They knew with certainty that I came from you, and they believed that you sent me. Thus Jesus gets his words from the Father. Why would this be necessary if he shared in the Godhead?

//Everybody knows Jesus was born under a star, right? The magi, following a star, go looking for Jesus and at first go to the wicked king Herod’s palace. Herod tells them to report back to him when they find him, because he wishes to kill any potential rival king. Bible scholars recognize the allusion to Number 24:17, and Balaam’s prophecy:

There shall come a Star out of Jacob, and a Sceptre shall rise out of Israel, and shall smite the corners of Moab, and destroy all the children of Sheth.

Balaam was a gentile, like the Magi, who, again like the Magi, does not cooperate with a wicked ruler who wants to destroy God’s people. It’s this connection to Balaam that fascinates me. Balaam developed a reputation as a bad guy, who helped lead Israel into idolatry, but he seems to have been respected in some circles while despised in others. In Matthew’s story, the allusion to Balaam is as a respected prophet.

See my book about Revelation for the other side of the story about Balaam.

//Wine is an important symbol in the Bible, well understood by its original readers and writers. It is a symbol of the messianic age, when there would be wine aplenty. It is impossible that the symbolism of Jesus’ parable could have been misunderstood by his audience. This promise of abundant wine can be interpreted metaphorically as well as literally, as wine represents the Spirit in the messianic age.

It’s interesting to note, however, that when Matthew repeats this parable, he adds a little something to the end. Both are preserved together, Matthew notes. Why this redaction? Why is it important to emphasize that the wineskin is preserved alongside the wine?

Probably, it has to do with Matthew’s respect for the Law. For example, it is Matthew who reports that not one jot or tittle shall pass from the law, until all is fulfilled. So Matthew makes sure we understand that the wine cannot survive without the wineskin; the Spirit cannot survive without the Law.

Yet there is a difference. This is not the old law, and this is not an old wineskin. The Jewish expectation was that when the Messiah arrived, he would bring a new law. (Check out my books along this topic here if interested). Thus, Matthew tells of Jesus standing on a mountain, like Moses on Sinai, dictating a new law (Matthew 5-7).  It’s during this sermon on the mount that Jesus says not one jot or tittle will disappear from the law until all is fulfilled. The key word here is fulfilled, as the verse before makes clear:

Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfill.–Matthew 5:17

The point is, in Matthew’s theology, Jesus did fulfill the law, and then he presented a new law. You might say that in the new age we do not flit around willy-nilly at the whim of the Spirit (or, perhaps, how we believe the Spirit to be leading us)—we must still remain grounded in Law. The new law.

//In a forum a while back, a member proposed today’s verse as encouragement for Christians to take up the call to apologetics … that is, to defend their faith.

I disagree, and in fact, I think that it instructs us to do the opposite. Reading the passage in context, the instruction begins back in verse 3:8:

Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble.

So it is a call to sympathy, love, compassion, and humility. The author compares good (as defined by 3:8) to evil (presumably, arrogance and lack of sympathy, love, and compassion) and says “be prepared to explain why you act the way you do, where you get your hope for a better world.”

I do not believe this has anything whatsoever to do with modern apologetics, which seems to focus on proving the truth of the Bible. It is merely about convincing others, by actions and words, that the way of Jesus brings hope for a better world.

//One of the themes common to the Synoptic Gospels is how daft the original apostles were. In Mark, they never do really catch on to Jesus’ purpose.  Matthew and Luke paint a less insulting picture, though the comedy remains.

As we begin the book of Acts (which is the sequel to Luke), Jesus has just risen from the dead. The disciples, who still hope for a conquering Messiah like what the Jews had long dreamed of, ask Jesus if he is finally going to restore Israel to its rightful place as the world leader. Put bluntly, they are saying “Too bad you failed with the first attempt, Jesus; is God giving you a second shot at it?”

Jesus’ reply, in so many words, redirects the question back onto the shoulders of the disciples. It’s up to them to make the world a better place. The Holy Spirit will soon arrive to help establish the new “kingdom.” Then Jesus departs, ascending up to heaven.

So the question remains. Did Jesus succeed in restoring the kingdom to Israel? What’s your opinion?

//Of late, I’ve been somewhat fascinated by the allusions in the New Testament that Jerusalem is the new Egypt. See Revelation 11:8, where Jerusalem is “spiritually called Sodom and Egypt,” without explanation. In today’s verse, Matthew alludes directly to Hosea 11:1: When Israel was a child, then I loved him, and called my son out of Egypt.

The curious thing about how Matthew uses this scripture is where he places it. One would think the call out of Egypt would not be placed after verse 13—which is about King Herod wanting to kill Jesus—but after verse 21, when Jesus actually does leave Egypt.

This placement is not accidental, however. Matthew is actually writing about Jesus leaving Judea! Jesus escapes from Judea and King Herod’s attempt at infanticide, just as Moses survives the intended infanticide by Egypt’s Pharaoh.

Thus, “out of Egypt have I called my son” in today’s verse surely means away from Judea—the new Egypt—and King Herod.