The relationships involved in this marriage are extremely complicated. Herod the Great was a much-married man. Herod Antipas, who married Herodias and who arrested John, was the son of Herod the Great by a woman called Malthake. Herodias herself was the daughter of Aristobulus, who was the son of Herod the Great by Mariamne, commonly called the Hasmonean. As we have seen, Herod had divided up his realm between Archelaus, Herod Antipas and Herod Philip. He had another son, also called Herod, who was his son by another Mariamne, the daughter of a high priest. This Herod had no share in his father’s realms, and lived as a private citizen in Rome; he married Herodias. He was in fact her half-uncle, because her father, Aristobulus, and he were both sons of Herod by different wives. Herod Antipas, on a visit to Rome, seduced her from his half-brother and married her. She was at one and the same time his sister-in-law, because she was married to his half-brother, and his niece because she was the daughter of Aristobulus, another half-brother.
The whole proceeding was utterly revolting to Jewish opinion and quite contrary to Jewish law, and indeed improper by any standards. It was a dangerous thing to rebuke a tyrant, but John did so. The result was that he was arrested and imprisoned in the dungeon castle of Machaerus on the shores of the Dead Sea. There could be no greater cruelty than to take this child of the desert and shut him up in a dungeon cell. Ultimately he was beheaded to gratify the resentment of Herodias (Matthew 14:5–12; Mark 6:17–29).
It is always dangerous to speak the truth; and yet although anyone who sides with the truth may be imprisoned or even executed, in the final count that person is the victor. Once the Earl of Morton, who was regent of Scotland, threatened Andrew Melville, the reformer. ‘There will never,’ he said menacingly, ‘be quietness in this country till half a dozen of you be hanged or banished.’ Melville answered him, ‘Tush! sir, threaten not your courtiers in that fashion. It is the same to me whether I rot in the air or in the ground . . . God be glorified, it will not lie in your power to hang nor exile his truth.’ Plato once said that the wise man will always choose to suffer wrong rather than to do wrong. We need only ask ourselves whether in the last analysis and at the final judgment we would prefer to be Herod Antipas or John the Baptist.
THE HOUR STRIKES FOR JESUS
Luke 3:21–2
When all the people had been baptized and when Jesus too had been baptized, as he was praying, the heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit in bodily form like a dove came down upon him and there was a voice from heaven, ‘You are my beloved son; in you I am well pleased.’
THE thinkers of the Church have always sought an answer to the problem, ‘Why did Jesus go to John to be baptized?’ The baptism of John was a baptism of repentance and it is our conviction that Jesus was without sin. Why then did he offer himself for this baptism? In the early Church it was sometimes suggested, with a homely touch, that he did it to please Mary, his mother, and in answer to her entreaties; but we need a better reason than that.
In the life of each of us there are certain definite stages, certain hinges on which our whole life turns. It was so with Jesus, and every now and again we must stop and try to see his life as a whole. The first great hinge was the visit to the Temple when he was twelve, when he discovered his unique relationship to God. By the time of the emergence of John, Jesus was about thirty (Luke 3:23). That is to say at least eighteen years had passed. All through these years he must have been realizing more and more his own uniqueness. But still he remained the village carpenter of Nazareth. He must have known that a day must come when he must say goodbye to Nazareth and go out upon his larger task. He must have waited for some sign.
When John emerged the people flocked out to hear him and to be baptized. Throughout the whole country there was an unprecedented movement towards God. And Jesus knew that his hour had struck. It was not that he was conscious of sin and of the need of repentance. It was that he knew that he too must identify himself with this movement towards God. For Jesus the emergence of John was God’s call to action; and his first step was to identify himself with the people in their search for God.
But in Jesus’ baptism something happened. Before he could take this tremendous step he had to be sure that he was right; and in the moment of baptism God spoke to him. Make no mistake, what happened in the baptism was an experience personal to Jesus. The voice of God came to him and told him that he had taken the right decision. But more – far more – that very same voice mapped out all his course for him.
God said to him, ‘You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.’ That saying is composed of two texts. You are my beloved Son – that is from Psalm 2:7 and was always accepted as a description of the Messianic King. In whom I am well pleased – that is part of Isaiah 42:1 and is from a description of the servant of the Lord whose portrait culminates in the sufferings of Isaiah 53. Therefore in his baptism Jesus realized, first, that he was the Messiah, God’s anointed king; and, second, that this involved not power and glory, but suffering and a cross. The cross did not come on Jesus unawares; from the first moment of realization he saw it ahead. The baptism shows us Jesus asking for God’s approval and receiving the destiny of the cross.
THE LINEAGE OF JESUS
Luke 3:23–38
When Jesus began his ministry he was about thirty years of age. He was the son (as it was supposed) of Joseph, the son of Heli, the son of Matthat, the son of Levi, the son of Melchi, the son of Jannai, the son of Joseph, the son of Mattathias, the son of Amos, the son of Nahum, the son of Esli, the son of Naggai, the son of Maath, the son of Mattathias, the son of Semein, the son of Josech, the son of Joda, the son of Joanan, the son of Rhesa, the son of Zerubbabel, the son of Shealtiel, the son of Neri, the son of Melchi, the son of Addi, the son of Cosam, the son of Elmadam, the son of Er, the son of Jesus, the son of Eliezer, the son of Jorim, the son of Matthat, the son of Levi, the son of Symeon, the son of Judas, the son of Joseph, the son of Jonam, the son of Eliakim, the son of Melea, the son of Menna, the son of Mattatha, the son of Nathan, the son of David, the son of Jesse, the son of Obed, the son of Boaz, the son of Salmon, the son of Nashon, the son of Amminadab, the son of Ami, the son of Hezron, the son of Perez, the son of Judah, the son of Jacob, the son of Isaac, the son of Abraham, the son of Terah, the son of Nahor, the son of Serug, the son of Reu, the son of Pelag, the son of Eber, the son of Shelah, the son of Cainan, the son of Arphaxad, the son of Shem, the son of Noah, the son of Lamech, the son of Methuselah, the son of Enoch, the son of Jared, the son of Mahalaleel, the son of Cainan, the son of Enos, the son of Seth, the son of Adam, the son of God.
THIS passage begins with the most suggestive statement. It tells us that when Jesus began his ministry he was no less than about thirty years of age. Why did he spend thirty years in Nazareth when he had come to be the Saviour of the world? It is commonly said that Joseph died fairly young and that Jesus had to take upon himself the support of Mary and of his younger brothers and sisters, and that not until they were old enough to take the business on their own shoulders did he feel free to leave Nazareth and go into the wider world. Whether that is so or not, three things are true.
(1) It was essential that Jesus should carry out with the utmost fidelity the more limited tasks of family duty before he could take up the universal task of saving the world. It was by his conscientiousness in the performance of the narrow duties of home that Jesus fitted himself for the great task he had to do. When he told the parable of the talents, the word to the faithful servants was, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things’ (cf. Matthew 25:21, 23). Beyond a doubt he was putting his own experience into words when he said that. When the writer J. M. Barrie’s mother died, he said, ‘I can look back and I cannot see the smallest thing undone.’ It was because Jesus faithfully performed the smallest duties that the greatest task in all the world was given him.
(2) It gave him the opportunity to live out his own teaching. Had he always been a homeless, wandering teacher with no human ties or obligations, people might have said to him, ‘What right have you to talk about human duties and human relationships, you, who never fulfilled them?’ But Jesus was able to say, not, ‘Do