Lectionary Commentaries for January 6, 2024
Epiphany of Our Lord
from WorkingPreacher.org
Gospel
Commentary on Matthew 2:1-12
Audrey West
First Reading
Commentary on Isaiah 60:1-6
Henry T.C. Sun
In order to understand Isaiah 60:1–6 in its postexilic context, it is crucial to understand both the language and the structure of the pericope. The language of the pericope is crucial because the second-person pronouns that pepper the unit are specifically second-person feminine forms.1 We see this in the imperatives “Arise, shine” (qumi ori; note that the imperatives are not conjoined with we) in verse 1; in the suffixed nouns “your light” (orek) in verses 1 and 3; and in the prepositional phrases “upon you” (alayik) in verses 1 and 3.
That language is important because it means that God is addressing the city, presumably Zion/Jerusalem, instead of an individual leader. As Westermann rightly notes, “Proclamation is made to Zion that her salvation is at hand.”2
Second, the imperatives serve to outline the reading into three different sections, with parts I and II belonging together because they are based on the imperatives in verses 1 and 4:
IA. Two Imperatives to Zion, verse 1a
IB. Reason, verses 1b–3
IIA. Two imperatives to Zion, verse 4a
IIB. Reason, verse 4b
III. Consequence for Zion, verses 5–7
Finally, the imperatives imply that this oracle was delivered to the postexilic community shortly after the return from Babylonian exile. It is likely that the community of faith had not yet recovered from their generation of enslavement and was in need of prophetic encouragement, which is exactly what the oracle provides.
Verses 1–3 form the core of the oracle. These verses contrast the “light” (identified as “the glory of the LORD” in verse 1) that has come with the “darkness” that “shall cover” the earth and its peoples (compare Isaiah 9:2 [Masoretic Text 9:1]). It would be natural for people who are in the dark to find their way to the light, and that is what happens in verse 3.
Verse 4 develops the main proclamation of verses 1–3. The opening imperatives in verse 4a are word-for-word identical with the text of Isaiah 49:18, and the language of verse 4b (“they all gather together, they come to you”) refers back to the nations and kings of verse 3. The reference to “your sons” (banayik) and “your daughters” (benotayik) in verse 4 seems to imply that there are still exiled Judeans who have not yet returned, but Oswalt rightly notes that “no evidence supports the idea that anyone expected a further return during the Persian period.”3 The language may therefore be more rhetorical/figurative than historical in intent.
But the gathering of the rest of the exiles back to Zion, along with the nations and kings who are attracted to the light that has shined on them, serves a larger purpose. That larger purpose is described in verses 5–7. First, that gathering will lead to joy: “Then you shall see and be radiant (wenahart; see also Jeremiah 31:12; Psalm 34:5 [Masoretic Text 34:6]); your heart shall thrill (upachad, often translated elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible as a verb of fear, but that is not the case here; see also Jeremiah 33:9) and rejoice.” That speaks to the attitude adjustment that prophetic oracles aim to create.
In addition, the gathering of nations and kings will lead to the arrival of materials that are needed to complete the rebuilding of the Jerusalem temple in verses 5–6: “the wealth of nations shall come to you. … They shall bring gold and frankincense.” This wealth is not limited to material goods only but also includes “the abundance of the sea,” “a multitude of camels,” “all the folks of Kedar,” and “the rams of Nebaioth.” This is the aspect of Isaiah 60 that sets it apart from Isaiah 2 (|| Micah 4); there, the prophet anticipates the flowing of people to Jerusalem (see Isaiah 2:3 || Micah 4:2), but there is no mention of wealth or goods.
But even that is not all that will happen. Verse 6 tells us that “they … shall proclaim the praise of the LORD.”4 Technically, it may be true that the word “they” refers back to the “camels” and the “young camels” who are carrying the “gold and frankincense,”5 but that is surely not the oracle’s intention. Instead, the oracle must intend to portray the people from these foreign nations who are leading the camels et cetera to Zion as the ones who are singing the praises of the God of the Judeans6 (see also Psalm 67:3, 5: “Let the peoples praise you, O God; let all the peoples praise you”).
The unit closes in verse 7 with a reference to the “acceptable sacrifice in the restored temple of the future”7 that will result from all these gifts, so that God will “glorify [his] glorious house.”
So how can this passage be proclaimed to the modern church on Epiphany?
As we read the prophetic oracle in its canonical form, the prophecy remains unfulfilled. As Charles L. Aaron Jr. rightly puts it, “The grand promises the prophet made to the people never actually happened in history.”8 The proclamation of this passage may, therefore, best be tied in with the New Testament’s proclamation that the kingdom of heaven has drawn near in the birth of the incarnate Son of God. That appropriation of Isaiah’s prophecy begins in Matthew 2, where “gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh” (compare Isaiah 60:6) are offered in homage to the baby Jesus.
In the Sermon on the Mount, the followers of Jesus are called “the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14–16; compare Isaiah 60:1). Because “the kingdom of God has come near” (Mark 1:14), everyone everywhere is called to “repent, and believe in the good news” (Mark 1:14; see also Matthew 4:17 and compare Isaiah 60:3). And the end result will be that “at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2:10–11; compare Isaiah 60:3).
Notes
- John Goldingay, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Isaiah 56–66, ICC (London/New York: Bloomsbury T & T Clark, 2014), 246. Goldingay notes that “the second-person singular feminine suffix -k comes 51 times” in chapter 60.
- So Claus Westermann, Isaiah 40–66, OTL (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1969), 356. See the similar proclamations in Isaiah 49:14–26; 51:17–23; 52:1–2, 7–10; 54:1–17, per J. Blenkinsopp, Isaiah 56–66: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, AYB 19B (New York: Doubleday, 2003).
- John N. Oswalt, The Book of Isaiah: Chapters 40–66, NICOT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 539.
- R. N. Whybray, Isaiah 40–66, NCBC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1975), 233, thinks that this “may well be a later addition,” but most commentators do not concur.
- So, rightly, Goldingay, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary, 261.
- So Oswalt, The Book of Isaiah, 541; Blenkinsopp, Isaiah 56–66, 212; S. Paul, Isaiah 40-66: Translation and Commentary, ECC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012), 523.
- So Brevard S. Childs, Isaiah: A Commentary, OTL (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001), 497.
- Charles L. Aaron Jr., “Commentary on Isaiah 60:1–6,” Working Preacher, Luther Seminary, accessed August 7, 2023, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/epiphany-of-our-lord/commentary-on-isaiah-601-6-6.
Psalm
Commentary on Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14
Beth L. Tanner
The Greek meaning of “epiphany” means to reveal or uncover.1
Yet every season, Jesus is “uncovered” or “revealed” twice. Luke “reveals” the identity of the Baby in the songs of the angels, so we celebrated Jesus as Lord twelve days ago. Then, Luke moved on quickly and last week Jesus was twelve and visiting the Temple with his parents. It seems a step back to join the Wise Men this morning for the celebration of Epiphany or the “revealing” of the Baby as the King of the Jews.
Is there a difference between LORD of All and King? We could easily dismiss this as semantics, but there is an important distinction. As Lord, Jesus is understood as apart from us, something different, with only God and the celestial beings. The title of King moves into the realm of humans. It is about politics and power and communities and individuals. Remember it was not Jesus as Lord which threatened Herod and the Romans and the Jewish Leaders. It was the declaration of Jesus as King that ultimately led to the cross.
So, if today is about the politics of Jesus as King, there is no better psalm than that of Psalm 72. This psalm is understood by most scholars to be a coronation hymn for the King of Judah. It speaks of the prayers of all of the people for the king and the importance of understanding the king’s role in relationship to his God and the people.
The psalm opens with a plea “Give the king your justice, O God, and your righteousness to a king’s son (verse 1).” The king is to administer God’s justice and God’s righteousness, not his own. This defines the relationship between God and the king. The king is to be God’s representative or conduit on earth. The ruler is a servant of the Lord, not a political God unto himself.
The psalm continues with wishes for the king’s reign, but these are not about political treaties or great infrastructure or law and order. The wishes are for the king to judge in righteousness and with justice for the poor. The psalm is concerned with how the king governs the people with the same words used in verse one “justice” and “righteousness.” The wishes are not action items or a political platform, but a view of the world and one’s people. In other words, it is about the king’s heart from which springs action. Verse 3 connects the righteous reign of the king with “mountains yielding prosperity and the hills, in righteousness.” This is a view of all of God’s creation living in harmony and both the land and the people prosper. God is in control and the king manages the kingdom as God’s agent.
Verse 4 is the heart of the job description of the human ruler. “May he [or she] defend the cause of the poor of the people, give deliverance to the needy, and crush the oppressor.” The king’s job is to assure the poor and needy are given care and concern and that he defends them with force if necessary. He is not to wage war for booty or territory but only against those who threated the weak. Pearl Buck wrote in The Good Earth, “the test of a civilization is the way it cares for its helpless members.” Quotes like it have been attributed to others. Did the idea come from the Bible or is this simply the measure of a responsible society regardless of nationality or religion? Either way these words in Psalm 72 make it the responsibility of the king, and since he is the ruler to care for the helpless, by extension it also becomes the responsibility of all the people to do the same.
Verses 3-7 provides wishes for the long life of this king and that he be like the rain falling on the grass. In the arid regions of Judah and Israel, the winter rains bring life and are necessary for the land and the people to prosper. The rain is a blessing from God. The king is to be the same, God’s blessing to the people.
In verses 10-11, kings of other nations come to Jerusalem to pay homage to the king. The usual reason for a king to bow down to another king is as an acknowledgement of the first king’s power and privilege. A king bows to another king because he has been defeated or is a vassal. But Psalm 72: 11-12 states “May all the kings fall down before him, all nations give him service FOR he delivers the needy when they call, the poor and those who have no helper. He has pity on the weak and needy and saves the lives of the needy.” The kings bow before him not because of power, or military strength, or wealth. They bow before the king because of his justice ways. Note that most English Bibles separate the adoration of the kings from the cause of their adoration. Verse 11 is a dependent clause of verse 10. It is the reason the king is honored.
Each leader of Judah failed to live up to this job description. Human self-interest and power often cloud our vision. Eventually, Jesus was the only one who could fulfill these words. But the intent of the psalm does not end with King Jesus but stands as a call to all of God’s people. Ours is not a religion focused only in the spiritual realm, but in the flesh and blood world. It is political because it is our duty to help the weakest among us and to assure a just society and nation.
Notes
- Commentary first published on this site on Jan. 6, 2019.
Second Reading
Commentary on Ephesians 3:1-12
Edward Pillar
This passage is the traditional and long-standing scripture reading for Epiphany—the celebration of the epiphany or, literally, the “appearance” of the Lord Jesus. All this, we might argue, we celebrated just a couple of weeks ago during the Christmas season. However, this special celebration of Epiphany is usually associated with the Magi’s encounter with Jesus, having been guided curiously and enigmatically by a star. And this encounter may have relevance for us as we further consider this passage and see the remarkable reach of the good news of Christ.
God’s extraordinary plan—overcoming the divide
Ephesians 3:1–12 is a magnificent celebration of the extraordinary plan of God, affirming his loving intention that all peoples should be invited and included under the covering of his Fatherly kindness and love.
The writer of this letter—it is not at all clear that it really was Paul—begins this section by declaring, “This is the reason that I … am a prisoner for Christ Jesus.” But why? Why is the writer a prisoner? It all becomes clear just a few words later as he speaks of an understanding that he has of the commission or plan of God’s grace that has been given to him. He describes this commission or plan as a mystery. And a mystery it may well be.
To understand the content of this mystery we can look back to the previous passage in the letter where, in 2:12, the gentiles (literally we should understand this as a reference to every other people group outside of the Israelites) are described as being “without Christ.”
But then, in 2:18, we see that the intended destiny for the gentiles—this amalgam of people groups—is “access in one Spirit to the Father.” This existential disconnect is overcome by way of the creation of a new humanity (verse 15), through reconciliation (verse 16) and the proclamation of peace (verse 17). It is this commission or plan that has been revealed to the writer, and which he has taken up as his calling and vocation.
The gathering of all things in Christ
But again, we see in the mind-bending and spirit-expanding opening passage of the letter, that the writer declares that the purpose of God is to “gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth” (1:10). And again, “And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all” (1:22–23). What we can see is that God’s wonderful plan—as the one who has “created all things” (3:9)—is the shepherding of all the peoples of the world into his great family. This can be described in short as the gathering up of all things in him.
Heirs, members, sharers—no second-class citizens
Moreover, it becomes clear that God’s intention is not simply that the gentiles should be some form of associate members of his universal family, or peoples patched on to the side as some form of belated apology, The writer declares that the gentiles have become—note, not “will become”; this is a statement of the present reality—heirs, members, and sharers in the promise in Christ Jesus.
In other words, those who were once apart are now in unity, and united as if they had always been that way; there are no second-class citizens here. These three terms—”heirs, members, and sharers”—are emphasizing and re-emphasizing the reality of the new ontology in Christ. The surprising and even shocking news of Epiphany is that God draws together those who previously were estranged from one another.
The heart of the Gospel—a practical call to reconciliation
It is this reality that lies at the heart of the gospel—God bringing together that which is disparate, disconnected, and even adversarial. So where does this leave us?
God’s plan to unite all the peoples of the world in Christ Jesus under his Fatherly covering is brought about through creation, reconciliation, and peace. We can think about situations in our world where there is a disconnect between peoples who, on some grounds, are so close. For example, the conflict between Israelites and Palestinians—two people occupying the same land and yet seemingly light-years apart. Black and white peoples in so many nations—South Africa, the United States, the UK, and elsewhere. The plight of indigenous peoples in Australia and the US. The conflict that was at least officially resolved in 1998 in Northern Ireland. And many other examples come to mind.
Our challenge and encouragement is to be those people who have seen the epiphany of Christ Jesus—as the Magi did—and to have the understanding that Christ’s appearance and his life, death, resurrection, and ascension are the revelation of God’s plan to reconcile all peoples. And yet, to be the messenger of that reconciliation—as the writer to the Ephesian church was—can sometimes be scary and dangerous. To stand out from the crowd and against the tide. To speak and act creatively, a story of reconciliation.
There often is opposition to this message, which is ultimately why the writer is in prison. But there is also the conviction that the church—this beautiful unity in all its “rich variety” (3:10)—should proudly pronounce to rulers and authorities (3:10) that their days of division, segregation, opposition, and disparaging the other are over. Christ has come, and the political, sociological, material, and financial divisions are not only over but must be tackled by the church to bring about the reality of which the Epiphany testifies.
Epiphany is a promise that God is here, whether or not we notice the signs.
After Jesus is born, according to Matthew, it is not the local folk to whom God-with-us is first revealed, but rather to Magi from the East. Foreigners. Strangers. Outsiders who interpret dreams and interrogate the night sky for signs.
Nor is it in the grand holy city of Jerusalem, with its magnificent temple at the center of religious, political, and economic power, where God chooses to come close, but rather in Bethlehem, a lowly village up the road a piece.
And it is not the great and powerful King Herod on whom God’s anointing rests, but on this vulnerable child-Messiah who “will save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21).
Tyranny and terror
“The time of King Herod” (Matthew 2:1) refers to Herod the Great, who ruled circa 37–4 B.C.E.—a terrifying era fueled by chaos and trauma for the Jewish people. To be sure, Herod’s immense wealth funded numerous (and beautiful) building projects, including multiple palatial fortresses as well as the reconstruction and expansion of the Jerusalem temple.
But Herod was also a ruthless tyrant, cementing his authority by brutal displays of dominance. He was perfectly willing to torture and kill his (perceived) opponents, even his own wife and sons. He reflects the reality that tyrants will too often do whatever it takes to protect their rule, even if it means destroying innocent lives.
In Herod’s view, could there be a greater threat to his rule than one who is prophesied in ancient texts and acknowledged as king by gentiles from afar? If this child-king is the Messiah, he will rule under the authority of God—unlike Herod, whose political strings are held by Roman puppet-masters. No wonder Herod is frightened.
The passive form of the verb expressing Herod’s fright, tarassō, means to be confused, troubled, or stirred up, even terrified, which is how the New Revised Standard Version typically translates it in Synoptic use.
Herod is terrified of losing power, and Matthew says the people of Jerusalem are terrified as well—no doubt aware of the crushing blows they will suffer under any conflict between Herod and anyone he opposes. Their fears prove to be justified when Herod later orders the murder of young boys in an attempt to destroy the child Jesus (Matthew 2:16–17).
History and current events are rife with other examples of earthly powers that are manifested through violence, killing innocent victims along the way. Indeed, this child, whose birth is marked by a rising star, will die by such violence.
Even in the light of such an end, the Gospels are clear that God’s way is not through earthly violence and oppression. The baby born in Bethlehem will lead in the way of a shepherd (Matthew 2:6; see also Micah 5:2–5). He will preach and enact blessings upon the humble, the grieving, the meek, and others—even the peacemakers and those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake (Matthew 5:1 and following).
The birth of God’s Messiah is a sign to the world for healing and life, not for terror and death.
They traverse afar
Thanks to countless works of art (not to mention every Sunday school Christmas pageant ever performed), it is easy to imagine the Magi as three kings atop camels, clothed in velvet cloaks, wearing jeweled turbans, and cradling treasures from a kingdom far away. Apart from the gifts, none of those details appear in Matthew’s account. We do not even know the Magi’s names, despite long-standing traditions otherwise.
What is clear, though, is that they are outsiders to the Jewish people of God. Many scholars suggest that the Magi were practitioners of a different religion, such as Zoroastrian priests from Persia (modern-day Iran).
Reflecting on Persia as their home, we might recall that half a millennium before the Magi’s trek, Cyrus, Persia’s king, had freed the Jews from exile in Babylon (538 B.C.E.), allowing them to return to the land. As a result, Cyrus was well regarded by the Jewish people, even though he was a foreign king.
Indeed, Isaiah 45:1 refers to Cyrus as God’s anointed (christos, Septuagint), called by God “for the sake of my servant Jacob, and Israel my chosen, so that they may know, from the rising of the sun and from the west, that there is no one besides me; I am the LORD and there is no other” (Isaiah 45:4–6).
In the canonical context of the Bible, perhaps the Magi and the gifts they bring remind Matthew’s audience that even representatives of a long-ago Persian king recognize their place before this one who, in their own words, is born king of the Jews.
Matthew does not say whether the Magi become disciples. Instead, the weight of Matthew’s account lands on God’s activity, prophesied long ago (Matthew 2:6) and manifested through the guidance of the star (not unlike the pillar of fire that went before the Israelites through the wilderness) and through a dream that warns the travelers to return home by another route. In humility the Magi bow down before the child and his mother and offer their gifts of treasure.
Stargazers, dreamers, seekers
Whoever the Magi were, their presence in Bethlehem is suggestive. In Matthew’s account it is these learned stargazers who study the signs in the sky, dreamers who risk the arduous journey from afar, foreigners who find their way to the Christ child. The Magi seek answers to their questions by connecting their learnings with realities they see around them: “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we have observed his star at its rising” (Matthew 2:2).
In contrast, the local scholars and religio-political leaders of the day (scribes and chief priests) are also learned—they know the Scriptures—but until Herod inquires of them, they do not recognize that their knowledge might encourage them to look carefully at the evidence from God that appears around them. What hinders their ability to see the star? What hinders ours?
Whoever the Magi are, wherever they are from, whatever has prompted their desire to seek after the star and worship the one over whom it rests, they continue to be a reminder that the presence of God’s Messiah is not limited to words on a page or even to prophecy and promise. He is called Emmanuel, which means “God is with us.” Ever and always.