The Story behind the Nativity Scene

In the story, an angel appears to a group of shepherds and announces to them the Messiah’s birth, after which they go to Bethlehem and find him there in a manger.

Herod’s father, Antipater I, had been appointed “steward” of the region by no less a figure than Julius Caesar himself (Josephus, Jewish Antiquities 14.143). After his father died, Herod—with the blessing of the Imperial family—took over.

Evie Gassner, “How Jewish Was Herod?” TheTorah (2019).

Eric Vanden Eykel, The Magi: Who They Were, How They’ve Been Remembered, and Why They Still Fascinate (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2002), 78. Perhaps not to appear as merely a Roman puppet king, Herod the Great undertook massive architectural and building projects to memorialize his rule. These included a complete renovation and enlargement of the Jerusalem Temple complex (including the construction of the abutting Roman fortress Antonia), the fortresses of Masada and Herodium, the construction of the new city (with an extensive palace) at Caesarea Maritima, and major aqueducts and waterworks. All of these projects brought much needed jobs and opportunities to the region to be sure, but they also attest to Herod’s seeming obsession with his legacy and his desire to be remembered as a true king of Judea who made great contributions to his people.

For a full discussion on the word “magoi” and the identity of these star- and dream-interpreting figures, including their reception as kings in the Christian interpretive tradition, see Vanden Eykel, The Magi, particularly chapter 2, “Magicians, Wise Guys, and Translators,” pp. 19–36.

All translations from the New Testament are from the New Revised Standard Version (Updated edition), unless otherwise noted.

The Greek word here for “pay homage” is προσκυνέω, which can also be translated as “to worship,” or “to pray”; Vanden Eykel translates it as “to honor,” which captures the range of different ways this word appears in the New Testament. See the discussion in Vanden Eykel, The Magi, 29–33.

So, for example, Raymond Brown, The Birth of the Messiah (New York: Doubleday, 1993), pp. 190–196. The connection of Jacob with Bethlehem adds additional weight to this interpretation. The verse also inspired the name Bar Kochba, “the son of the star,” for the leader of an unsuccessful 2^nd c. C.E. Jewish revolt against Rome.

Tim Hegedus, “The Magi and the Star of Matthew 2:1-12,” in Studia Patristica 39 (2006): 213–217.

Though later Christian interpreters like Milton interpret the morning star as Lucifer, in its biblical context, Isaiah is referring to the king of Babylon (v. 4).

Vanden Eykel, The Magi, 91–92.

So, for example, D. H. Williams, who notes that Josephus describes a star that stood over Jerusalem during the siege by the Romans (Jewish War 6.5.3). D. H. Williams, “The Magi and the Star,” in The Oxford Handbook of Christmas, ed. Timothy Larson (New York: Oxford, 2023), 220.

Vanden Eykel, The Magi, 93. Pliny tells us that Julius’s adopted son Octavian, who eventually became Octavian Augustus, the first emperor of Rome, understood this star to be about his own sovereign destiny (Pliny, Nat. 2.93–94).

Vanden Eykel, The Magi, 94–95.

And with it the corollary: that the very people who should have recognized him rejected him out of hand. So Vanden Eykel (The Magi, 70): “Matthew imagines Jesus as the rightful Judean king and that the function of the Magi is to clarify and bolster this claim.”

Tobias Nicklas, “Balaam and the Star of the Magi,” in The Prestige of the Pagan Prophet Balaam in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, eds. George H. van Kooten and J.T.A.G.M. van Ruiten (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 240. This is the first mention of the critical city of Jerusalem in Matthew’s gospel, and it sets up and foreshadows the conflict that is to come.

Herod and all of Jerusalem are on the same page here, despite how historically unrealistic this would have been. Ulrich Luz explains: “Herod and the whole people of Jerusalem belong together in the front which rejects the new royal child. Every one who was even superficially familiar with the historical situation must have been surprised by the Matthean depiction: Herod was so unpopular with the Jerusalem inhabitants—aside from the upper class which was loyal to the king—that news of the birth of a royal child or especially a messianic child would have caused great joy. But Matthew is not concerned about historical realities.” Ulrich Luz, Matthew 1–7: A Commentary, trans. Wilhelm C. Linss (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1989), 135.

The passage in Micah is difficult, and no consensus exists in scholarship about the identity of the ruler who will arise from Bethlehem. On potential interpretations, see Delbert R. Hillers, Micah: A Commentary on the Book of the Prophet Micah, Hermeneia (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984), 66; and James Luther Mays, Micah: A Commentary, OTL (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1976), 115–116.

In Matthew’s story of John the Baptist, “Jerusalem and Judea” go to the river Jordan to be baptized (Matt 3:5). The implication is that all the people, even in this place which has already established itself as opposed to Jesus, thus have the opportunity to repent. However, not so for the Pharisees and Sadducees, intimately associated with the power structures of the city, who are singled out for John’s wrath (Matt 3:7-10). While there is not much mention of Jerusalem in the chapters of Matthew where Jesus ministers in Galilee (Matt 4-20),[19] the mentions that do exist in the later chapters sound an ominous chord. Pharisees and scribes come “from Jerusalem” to question Jesus (harshly) about his ritual practices (15:1,). Pharisees and Sadducees also show up to “test” Jesus (16:1), and while they are not explicitly designated as Jerusalemites, their proximity to those in 15:1 strongly implies this. By the time, then, that Jesus gives his first statement about his destiny to go up to Jerusalem and suffer under the “elders and the chief priests and the scribes” (16:21), readers are well prepared to understand the depth of the opposition and ferocity represented by the city.

Focusing on the stark contrast between those in power and the powerless, Amy-Jill Levine explains that, “Beginning in chap. 2, the evangelist demonstrates concern for those removed from the political system by contrasting the disenfranchised with the elite and by distinguishing those who stay put and remain complacent from those who are displaced or who lack permanent homes. The literally well-placed ‘Herod and all Jerusalem’ are arrayed against the displaced holy family and the Gentile magi who travel to and from Bethlehem.” Amy-Jill Levine, “Matthew,” in The Women’s Bible Commentary, ed. Carol Newsom and Sharon H. Ringe (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1998), 341.

In Matthew 21:15–16 “the chief priests and scribes” become angry at Jesus’ actions in the temple and the way the people are responding, and later on in this same chapter “chief priests and elders” challenge his authority (Matt 21:23) and “chief priests and Pharisees” what to arrest him (21:45–46). Jesus singles out “the scribes and Pharisees” for significant invective (23:1–36), which culminates in his lament against Jerusalem, “the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it” (23:37–39). It is “all the chief priests and the elders” who plot to bring about Jesus’s death (Matt 27:1).

λιβάνος, made from the frankincense tree.

[23] Hymn Nat. 22.26–29. See Vanden Eykel, The Magi, 162. For his part, Vanden Eykel thinks that the significance of these gifts lies in their costliness (The Magi, 103).

Maximus the Confessor, for example, is one such author who read them this way, but he also read them as symbolizing virtues and dispositions that the reader can cultivate. As Vanden Eykel explains, “God is ‘a good and holy character,’ frankincense is ‘comprehension and spiritual insight,’ and myrrh is ‘mortifiation of the passions and bodily members’ (Life 39; The Magi, 99-100). Readers cannot bring gold, frankincense, and myrrh to the infant Jesus, but they can still become like the Magi by cultivating these various dispositions and offering them in service to their god.” See Vanden Eykel, The Magi, 175.

This is called “blood money” [τιμὴ αἵματός] in Matthew 27:6.

Cf. also Origen, Contra Celsum 1.60.

“Later the reader will comprehend the abysmal brutality of Herod; he or she receives the impression that the infanticide was calculated already at this time” (Luz, Matthew 1–7, 135).

This dream recalls that of Joseph (Matt 1:20–21), and also looks forward to the dream of Pilate’s wife (27:19), warning Pilate not to have anything to do with this Jesus situation. On dreams in the Gospel of Matthew, see Derek S. Dodson, Reading Dreams: An Audience-Critical Approach to the Dreams in the Gospel of Matthew (London: T&T Clark, 2009), especially pp. 156–162. Cf. also the earlier work by Robert Gnuse, “Dream Genre in the Matthean Infancy Narratives,” Novum Testamentum 32 (1990): 97–120.

The passage quotes Jeremiah 31:15. In its original context, Rachel could be weeping over the Israelites exiled by the Assyrians or the Judahites exiled by the Babylonians. See the discussion in Jack R. Lundbom, Jeremiah 21–36: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, AB 21B (New York: Doubleday, 2004), 436–437.

This is just one of the ways Matthew weaves parallels between Jesus and Moses, especially at the beginning of his gospel. For discussion, see Dale Allison, The New Moses: A Matthean Typology (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1994).

One of Matthew’s editorial tendencies is to remove all positive mentions of Jewish leadership from the material he inherited from Mark, one of his main sources. In Mark 5:22, for example, we see a positive portrayal of “one of the leaders of the synagogue” who has come to Jesus for help, but in Matthew 9:18 this same figure is just called “a leader.” Likewise, Mark 15:43 identifies Joseph of Arimathea as a member of the council who is eagerly awaiting the kingdom of God, but Matthew 27:57 identifies this same figure simply as “a rich man” who was also a disciple.

Throughout the Gospel, Matthew gives the reader every indication that Jesus is fulfilling all the prophecies of the expected Davidic Messiah/King. In addition to using the techniques of allusion, symbolism, and parallelism, he does this through the use of what are called “fulfillment citations,” ten explicit moments in the narrative where either the narrator or Jesus himself tells us that certain things happened to fulfill Hebrew Bible prophecies. These citations do not appear in Mark, which Matthew likely had when composing his Gospel, but are instead a unique feature of Matthew’s Gospel, evincing Matthew’s desire to demonstrate that Jesus was the ultimate fulfillment of the hopes of the Jews for a Davidic Messiah, but that he was rejected by the very people that should have recognized him. For discussion of the citations, including their introductory formula, see Ulrich Luz, Matthew 1-7 (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1997), pp. 156-164.

Just as the question of the magi (Matt 2:2) looks forward to this ultimate tragic coronation, so the magi’s dream (2:12), which allows them to escape Herod’s machinations, recalls that of Joseph (1:20–21), but also looks forward to the dream of Pilate’s wife (27:19), warning Pilate not to have anything to do with this Jesus situation. On dreams in the Gospel of Matthew, see Derek S. Dodson, Reading Dreams: An Audience-Critical Approach to the Dreams in the Gospel of Matthew (London: T&T Clark, 2009), especially pp. 156–162. Cf. also the earlier work by Robert Gnuse, “Dream Genre in the Matthean Infancy Narratives,” Novum Testamentum 32 (1990): 97–120.

When Jesus is on the cross in Mark, Mark tells us that “darkness came over the whole earth” (Mark 15:33) and that upon his death “the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom” (Mark 15:38). Matthew retains both the darkness and the tearing of the curtain, but adds additional phenomena:

^{Matt 27:51} At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. The earth shook, and the rocks were split. ^27:52 The tombs also were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised. ^27:53 After his resurrection they came out of the tombs and entered the holy city and appeared to many.

Jesus’s death in Matthew does not just rend the curtain of the temple, the site of worship and religious-political power in Jerusalem, it shakes the earth itself, piercing the boundary between life and death. This earthquake reappears in Matthew’s version of the story of the empty tomb (28:2), where we also hear about the appearance of an angel “whose appearance was like lightening and his clothes as white as snow” (28:3).