Eve is here. This post briefly describes the political turmoil around the time of Jesus’ birth and how his family did not have good relations with the Romans.
One woman pointed out how Christians gloss over other operational challenges.
Engaged means single. Pregnancy is difficult to hide. How did Mary explain it? Even if you say, “It’s God’s work,” it won’t be very convincing.
We hardly ever went to church, except for the two years we lived in Boston (my father was an atheist, but never showed any of that to his children, because it would be very bad for his career if the rumors got out). But then I remembered one of the few times I was in a Presbyterian congregation where the pastor was discussing a serious mistranslation of the Bible. One is that Mary was a virgin. The pastor said the word was more accurately translated as “maid,” simply meaning a young woman. That doesn’t mean Mary’s engagement problem is resolved.
And some trivia. Of the gifts of the wise men, gold, frankincense, and myrrh, myrrh was the most precious at that time. It’s an antibiotic. And it is very likely that the Magi as Persian priests were astrologers.
That being said, in the final part of this article we will discuss the new Nicolas Cage movie about Young Jesus, the Carpenter’s Son. It looks like a very 21st century “might make right” projection onto a historical gap in Jesus’ life.
But I am reminded again of that sermon about mistranslation. The pastor argued at length that the idea that “the meek will inherit the earth” is almost 180 degrees wrong, and that what we have been told is “meek” is much more like “authorities” and even “superhumans.” He tried to connect it with Christ’s defense of the poor, the downtrodden, and the debtors described at length by Michael Hudson. It’s been many years so my memory isn’t very clear, but I think I used the frame of “rendering Caesar’s things to Caesar”, that the world operates by the rule of the fittest and that it’s important to distinguish between the physical and spiritual realms.
Written by Joan Taylor, Emeritus Professor of the Origins of Christianity and Second Temple Judaism, King’s College London. Originally published on The Conversation
Every year, millions of people sing the beautiful carol “Silent Night” with the lyrics: “All is calm, all is bright.”
We all know that the Christmas story is a declaration of peace and joy, and this story pervades our celebrations, family gatherings, and gift-giving. Countless Christmas cards depict the Holy Family nestled comfortably in a quiet little village, lit by a starry sky and in a quaint stable.
But when I began researching my book about Jesus’ childhood, Boy Jesus: Growing Up as a Jew in Turbulent Times, Carol began to seem terribly wrong, given the current state of her family at the time of her birth.
The Gospel story itself speaks of dislocation and danger. For example, the “manger” was actually a foul-smelling feeder for donkeys. The presence of a newborn baby lying in it was a significant sign given to shepherds who were protecting their flocks from dangerous wild animals at night (Luke 2:12).
The dangers become even more apparent when these stories are unpacked to their core elements and placed in a broader historical context.
Let’s take King Herod as an example. He appears without any introduction in the Nativity story, so the reader should know that he is bad news. However, Herod was appointed by the Romans as their trusted ruler of the province of Judea. He stayed in that post for so long because, in Roman fashion, he did a decent job.
Jesus’ family claimed to be descended from the Jewish kings, descendants of David, and expected to produce future rulers. Matthew’s Gospel begins with Jesus’ entire genealogy, which was so important to his identity.
However, several years before Jesus was born, Herod had invaded and plundered David’s tomb. How did that affect the family and the story they told Jesus? How did they feel about the Romans?
A time of fear and rebellion
Things become even more dangerous and complicated when it comes to Herod’s attitude towards Bethlehem, which is remembered as David’s hometown.
When Herod was first appointed, he was ousted by a rival ruler supported by the Parthians (enemies of Rome), who were beloved by many locals. Herod was attacked by these people right near Bethlehem.
He and his army counterattacked and massacred the attackers. When Rome defeated its rivals and brought Herod back, he erected a monument commemorating his genocidal victory at a nearby site called the Herodium overlooking Bethlehem. How was it felt by the locals?
Bethlehem with Herodium on the skyline (1898-1914): Monument to the Genocide. Matson Collection via Wikimedia Commons
Far from being a quiet village, Bethlehem was so important that water was brought into the center by the construction of a large-scale aqueduct. Fearing Herod, Jesus’ family fled their home there, but they were on the wrong side of Rome from the beginning.
They were not alone in their fears and attitudes toward the colonizers. This event, as told by the first-century historian Josephus, marks the open rebellion of the people against Rome shortly after Jesus’ birth.
After Herod died, thousands of people occupied the Jerusalem Temple and demanded their release. Herod’s son Archelaus slaughtered them. Many Jewish revolutionary kings and rulers took control of parts of Judea, including Galilee.
According to Matthew’s Gospel, it was at this time that Joseph brought his family from their refuge in Egypt back to this independent Galilee and its village, Nazareth.
However, Galilee’s independence did not last long. The Roman army, led by General Varus, marched out of Syria with allied forces, destroyed the nearby city of Sepphoris, torched countless villages, and crucified vast numbers of Jewish rebels, ultimately crushing the rebellion.
Once Archelaus was formally installed as ruler, he continued his reign of terror.
Today’s Nativity Story
As a historian, I would love to see a film depicting Jesus and his family embedded in this chaotic, unstable, and traumatic social world in a country under Roman rule.
Instead, viewers were treated to the movie The Carpenter’s Son, starring Nicolas Cage. The work is partly inspired by an apocryphal (non-biblical) document called the Paidica Jesou (Infancy of Jesus), later called the Infancy Gospel of Thomas.
You might think of Paidika as some sort of ancient version of the popular 2000s TV show “Smallville,” which followed a young Clark Kent before he became Superman.
But no, this is not a story about Jesus grappling with his amazing powers and destiny, but rather a short and deeply disturbing literary work of fragments collected more than 100 years after Jesus’ life.
The Paidika depicts the infant Jesus as a kind of demigod that no one should mess with, including his playmates and teachers. The work was extremely popular among non-Jewish, pagan-turned-Christian audiences who sat in an uneasy place within broader society.
Jesus works miracles and defeats all his enemies, even the innocent. One day, a child bumped into Jesus and hurt his shoulder, so Jesus beat him to death. Joseph says to Mary, “Do not let him leave the house, lest those who offend him die.”
Such stories are based on the problematic idea that God’s wrath should never be kindled. And this young Jesus immediately shows deadly anger. He also lacks much of a moral compass.
However, this passage is also based on the idea that Jesus’ actions as a boy toward his playmates and teachers were justified because they were “Jews.” In just a few lines, “Jews” appear as the accusers. There should be a warning about the content.
The nativity scene in The Carpenter’s Son is certainly not peaceful. There are many horrifying images of screaming Roman soldiers throwing babies into the fire. But like in many movies, the violence is somehow just evil and arbitrary, and it’s not really about Jews and Rome.
It is certainly a contextual and larger story about the Nativity and Jesus’ childhood that is highly relevant today in a time of division and ‘othering’ where many feel controlled by the unyielding forces of this world.
In fact, some churches in the United States are now adapting Nativity scenes to depict ICE detention and deportation of immigrants and refugees, reflecting this contemporary relevance.
In many ways, the real Nativity is certainly not one of simple peace and joy, but rather a Nativity of struggle and mystical hope.
