IN THOSE DAYS John the Baptist came, preaching in the Desert of Judea 2and saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near.” 3This is he who was spoken of through the prophet Isaiah:
“A voice of one calling in the desert,
‘Prepare the way for the Lord,
make straight paths for him.’ ”
4John’s clothes were made of camel’s hair, and he had a leather belt around his waist. His food was locusts and wild honey. 5People went out to him from Jerusalem and all Judea and the whole region of the Jordan. 6Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River.
7But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to where he was baptizing, he said to them: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? 8Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. 9And do not think you can say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham. 10The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.
11“I baptize you with water for repentance. But after me will come one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not fit to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire. 12His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”
13Then Jesus came from Galilee to the Jordan to be baptized by John. 14But John tried to deter him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?”
15Jesus replied, “Let it be so now; it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness.” Then John consented.
16As soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. At that moment heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and lighting on him. 17And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.”
Original Meaning
WITH THE PHRASE “in those days John the Baptist came,” Matthew jumps from Jesus’ infancy to his adulthood. More than twenty-five years elapse from the time Joseph took his family to Nazareth to the time John the Baptist appears in the Judean desert.1 The infancy narrative provided crucial background to clarify the identity of Jesus as the long-awaited Messiah of Israel. But now Matthew moves the calendar forward to focus the lens of his story on the public ministry of Jesus.
John the Baptist Prepares the Way (3:1–6)
JOHN’S MESSAGE (3:1–3). John the Baptist appears prominently at the beginning of all four Gospels. In Matthew, he is the first person to appear when the public ministry of Jesus is recounted.2 John is an immensely important historical figure, especially because he is the link between God’s saving activity in the Old Testament and his saving activity in the ministry of Jesus. Jesus will say of him, “among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist” (11:11).
Luke informs us of John’s background (Luke 1:5–25, 39–80)—born to pious parents, both of the priestly line, who were well advanced in age. John’s mother Elizabeth was a female relative3 of Jesus’ mother (1:36). Growing up in Judea, John probably had limited contact with Jesus, who grew up in Nazareth. The Fourth Gospel tells us that John “did not know him” (John 1:31, 33), indicating that it was not until the baptism that John knew definitely that Jesus was the Messiah.
Prior to embarking on his public ministry, John lived for some period of time in the desert (Luke 1:80). Sometime after A.D. 26 he made his public appearance to Israel, preaching in “the Desert of Judea” (Matt. 3:1). This was probably the barren desert area in the lower Jordan River valley and hills to the west of the Dead Sea. The desert was an important place in Israel’s history. The law was given in the Desert of Sinai (Ex. 19), the prophets often went to the desert near Jordan to commune with God (e.g., 1 Kings 17:2–3; 19:3–18), the Maccabees carried out guerrilla warfare from the desert (e.g., 1 Macc. 5), and the desert had messianic overtones for diverse groups within Israel who associated it with God’s forthcoming deliverance (e.g., Essenes of the Qumran community).4
While John’s place of ministry at the Jordan River was close to the Qumran community’s location and some scholars have wondered if John was a part of that community, we should note that John did not require those who adopted his message and baptism to withdraw from the rest of the nation and remain in the desert, as Qumran did. Moreover, John’s message was more like that of the prophets of the Old Testament than of Qumran. The Qumran community was preparing itself for a final cosmic conflict in which they would join God’s deliverer to do battle; John’s message emphasized the coming end of the age with the judgment of God. Moreover, John’s one-time baptism of repentance and the repeated ritual cleansings at Qumran are quite different. Thus, most scholars today conclude it is doubtful that John was ever associated with this community.5
John the Baptist has one central message, in which he urgently calls the people to “repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near” (3:2–3). This is the same message Jesus announces (4:17) and the Twelve preach on their missionary tour through Israel (10:5). John’s call to repentance sounds similar to the prophets of the Old Testament, calling the people into a right relationship with God that must affect every aspect of their lives.6 Indicating “to change one’s mind,” repentance in the Old Testament always called for a change in a person’s attitude toward God, which would then impact one’s actions and overall direction in life. External signs of repentance regularly included confession of sin, prayers of remorse, and abandonment of sin.
But as similar as John’s message is to the Old Testament prophets, there is a distinctly new sound to it. He calls the people to repent because “the kingdom of heaven is near.” The kingdom has come near in the soon-arriving Messiah (see comments on 4:17).7 John is the one foretold by Isaiah who would be privileged to prepare the way for the Lord’s arrival and his kingdom: “A voice of one calling in the desert, ‘Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him’ ” (3:3; cf. Isa. 40:3).
John wasn’t just another religious zealot drumming up support for a new following. As a road must be cleared of obstacles before an approaching king, John is calling for the people to clear the obstacles out of their lives that might hinder their reception of the Lord. He calls for the people to get themselves ready—to prepare their heart and life—for the arrival of the Coming One with the kingdom of heaven. In this sense, then, we can say that the kingdom of God has come near in the person of Jesus, but the full manifestation of that kingdom had not yet arrived.
The expression “the kingdom of heaven” is typical religious language of the Jewish people. Found only in Matthew’s Gospel (thirty-three times), “kingdom of heaven”8 is interchangeable with the expression “kingdom of God,”9 which is found in the other Gospels (cf. 19:23–24; Mark 10:24–25; Luke 18:24–25). Matthew’s “kingdom of heaven” reflects the Hebrew expression malkut šamayim, found abundantly in Jewish literature. A feeling of reverence and a desire not to blaspheme inadvertently the name of God (Ex. 20:7) led the Jews at an early date to avoid as far as possible all mention of the name of God. “Heaven” is one of the usual substitutions for the name of God (e.g., 1 Macc. 3:18–19; 4:10; 12:15; m. ʾAbot 1:3, 11).
By this time the people of Israel had had their fill of other kingdoms and rulers dominating them. They wanted a return to the glories of the ancient monarchy under David and Solomon and their descendants. They had a brief tantalizing experience of semi-independence during the Maccabean revolt and the rule of the Hasmoneans, but that had long ended. Once again another power, Rome, ruled over them. The thirst for independence was strong in Israel. The prophecies of David’s house and kingdom enduring forever (2 Sam. 7:11–16; 1 Chron. 17:23–27) seemed as if they would never be actualized.
John the Baptist ignites those hopes anew by preaching that “the kingdom of heaven is near.” John’s mission is like that of a courier who preceded the king to proclaim his coming and the need for the citizens to ready themselves for that arrival. Their readiness was indicated by their repentance from sin and sinful ways to await the kingdom. But what kind of kingdom did they expect? What did John expect would occur now that the kingdom of God was near? As the story unfolds we will look closely to separate the various expectations from what God actually intended to accomplish.
John’s appearance (3:4). Like his message, John’s appearance—especially his clothing and food—stirred up recollections of the prophecies of Elijah’s return to prepare the way for God’s vengeful appearance (cf. Mal. 3:1; 4:5–6). John appears in the desert wearing garments made of camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist (cf. 2 Kings 1:8). Goat’s hair or camel’s hair was often woven into a thick, rough, dark cloth, which was used as an outer garment or cloak, particularly by nomadic desert dwellers. The garment was so dense that it was virtually waterproof and could protect from most weather elements. It was proverbially the garb of poorer people, in distinction from the finery worn by those in the royal court (11:8). Moreover, garments of woven hair were sometimes worn as a protest against luxury and as a symbol of distress or self-affliction,10 so John the Baptist’s garment of camel’s hair probably visualized the repentance to which he called the people (cf. Neh. 9:1; Jer. 6:26).
John’s food was locusts and wild honey, not an unusual diet for people living in the desert.11 The locust is a migratory grasshopper and was permissible food for the people of Israel to eat (Lev. 11:20–23). They are an important food source in many areas of the world, especially because they are a ready source of protein and are abundant even in the most desolate areas. They are often collected and then dried or ground into flour. John’s diet of locusts and honey from wild bees supplied him with a crude but fairly balanced diet.12
But more important, John’s diet causes him to stand out as one who has rejected the luxuries of life. His diet and clothing combine with his message to cast a powerful demand for repentance in the light of the nearness of the kingdom. He embodies in his lifestyle the message of repentance he preaches.13 The last Old Testament prophet, Malachi, brought his thundering message to a climax with a prophecy of the Lord sending Elijah the prophet before the great and dreadful day of the Lord, who would “turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers” (Mal. 4:6). Many Jews were awaiting God’s intervention.
No wonder, then, the remarkable response of the people to John. Although Matthew does not mention the connection yet (cf. 11:2–19; 17:9–13), here is another like Elijah. God is again speaking to his people through a prophet!
John’s baptism (3:5–6). The response to John’s call to repentance is extraordinary, as throngs of people go out to him from the city of Jerusalem, from all over Judea, and from the region of the Jordan River valley. John’s message seems to have taken hold of every stratum of Israel. But they do not go out just to watch a show. It was no easy matter to go into the desert, especially for city dwellers. But, gripped by his startling declaration of the nearness of God’s kingdom, they demonstrate their repentance by “confessing their sins.” The ordinary people of Israel indicate by their radical repentance that they have heard in John’s message a warning from a prophet of God. In the light of the imminent judgment, they must be forthright with God. The nearness of God’s kingdom leaves no room for doubt. They must get everything out in the open. They must show God by their actions and by words that they are indeed putting their old ways behind and are ready for the arrival of his kingdom.
Thus, they are baptized by John in the Jordan River. Of all John’s activities and characteristics, his baptism was the most strikingly unique and reminiscent of his ministry. This one-time baptism as preparation for the arrival of the coming kingdom was so distinctive that it gave him the byname “the Baptist” (see 3:1; Josephus, Ant. 18:116).
John’s baptism was both similar to, yet distinct from, other forms of baptism in Israel at the time.14 Accompanying as it did repentance and confession of sin, it was symbolic of purification. But in contrast to forms of baptism such as those at Qumran and by the Pharisees—both of which were highly structured and had regular, repeated washings—John’s was a one-time baptism. It did have some similarity to proselyte one-time baptism,15 but it was far different since it was Jews, not Gentiles, who were being baptized by John. Those responding heeded the call to the presence of the kingdom and the Coming One announced by John. His baptism called for a personal commitment to God’s new activity within Israel. It became the backdrop of Jesus’ and his disciples’ practice (John 3:22–24; 4:1–3) and of the early church’s baptism.
The Impact of the Kingdom of Heaven (3:7–12)
AMONG THE CROWDS who went out to hear John were some of the religious leadership, including Pharisees and Sadducees. They appear here by name for the first time in Matthew’s narrative,16 although their presence is implied in the reference to the Jerusalem leadership in the infancy narrative (e.g., 2:3–4).
Warning to the religious leaders of Israel (3:7–10). “The Pharisees” probably derived their name from the Hebrew/Aramaic perušim (“the separated ones”), alluding to both their origin and their characteristic practices. They held a minority membership on the Sanhedrin, the ruling religious body in Jerusalem. The Pharisees were a lay fellowship or brotherhood connected with local synagogues and thus were popular with the common people. Their most-pronounced characteristic was their adherence to oral tradition, which they obeyed rigorously in order to make the written law relevant to daily life. “The Sadducees,” by contrast, were a small group with aristocratic and priestly influence who derived their authority from the activities of the temple. They held the majority membership on the Sanhedrin but were removed from the common people by economic and political status and their support of Rome’s rule over them.
Despite the fact that the Pharisees and Sadducees normally opposed one another (cf. Acts 23:7–8), they are united in coming to where John is baptizing.17 They appear to join the crowds responding to John’s call to repent. Perhaps they are coming to John as the official leadership of Israel to validate (or perhaps investigate) his ministry. John sees through their hypocrisy and has harsh words for them, calling them a “brood of vipers” (cf. 12:34; 23:33)—a clear reference to the dozen or more small, dangerous snakes that can emerge from a mother snake. Vipers are proverbial for their subtle approach and attack, as was the original serpent (Gen. 3). These religious leaders have ulterior motives, either attempting to ingratiate themselves with the crowds who are drawn by John or coming to see if they can find fault in this prophetic figure who is outside their circles and is attracting such a following.18
John clarifies what will occur with the coming of the kingdom: (1) It will bring wrath on those who do not repent (3:8–10), and (2) it will be inaugurated with the arrival of the Coming One, with his baptism of the Holy Spirit and fire (3:11–12). The coming of the kingdom of heaven will be accompanied by the wrath of God and the fire of eternal punishment (3:8, 10). Those who respond to John’s message and repent will escape God’s wrath. But it must be an individual’s personal response to God; one’s religious or ethnic heritage will not help. People must come to God as repentant individuals without prior religious claims to advantage with God. This is, therefore, not a call solely for those living in blatant sin, as if repentance is only for “backsliders” or the “marginal.” It is a call of repentance for all in Israel, including the religious leaders. Unfortunately, religious activity and pedigree can often blind a person to the deficiency of his or her own life before God.
John is not attempting to subvert the Pharisees and Sadducees, the official leadership of Judaism, by publicly ridiculing them. Rather, he is calling them to their proper responsibility as examples for the nation. Of all people, they should be the ones who honestly and openly prepare their hearts for the coming of the Messiah. They have had the privilege of studying Scripture more carefully. They should have been the first to prepare themselves to receive kingdom life. Instead, they will receive judgment.
Furthermore, repentance must be validated as being real through fruit in one’s life. Talk is cheap. Hypocrisy is real. John will not tolerate any religious game-playing simply to gain a following. He articulates a theme that will characterize Jesus’ ministry as well. The evidence of real inner spiritual life is always the fruit of a changed external life. The arrival of the kingdom will bring with it real spiritual life that produces change from the inside out. Jesus says later that false disciples are those who do not have the life of the true vine. They are dead branches, good only to be thrown into the fire (John 15:6). The decisive identifying mark of a living tree is the fruit that it bears. The decisive identifying mark of the kingdom of God is a life that has repented from sin and bears the fruit of repentance (cf. Paul’s message in Acts 26:20).
Those who do not receive spiritual life will receive God’s wrath. They have rejected his call to repentance, they have not received the life of the kingdom of heaven, and they therefore will receive the full penalty of God’s judgment on their sin. John fully expects that the axe of God’s judgment is quickly to be laid at the deadwood that does not bear the life and the fruit of the kingdom of heaven. And the expected messianic deliverer,19 to whom John now gives public testimony, will wield that axe.
The coming of Messiah (3:11–12). Here we get to the core of John’s ministry. He points ahead and beyond himself to another person. John has a powerful place in God’s history of salvation, but he knows it is only preparatory to the main event. Calling the nation to repentance is not the main issue. The main event is the appearance of the One who will actually inaugurate God’s kingdom on earth. Although there is continuity between their messages and ministry, John especially emphasizes the contrast between himself and the Coming One. That contrast is seen in the Coming One’s identity and baptism.
(1) John points to “the one who is coming after me,” an expression with strong messianic expectation.20 John is rugged, marked by the rigors of the desert and the harshness and loneliness of his calling as a prophet. It takes personal strength of body and soul to endure such hardships. But John looks to One who is “more powerful,” who will arrive with the power of God to inaugurate messianic rule. As a servant to a king, John realizes that he is not worthy even to carry the sandals of this messianic deliverer. His language is not self-degrecating. He is not lacking an adequate self-image. He knows himself and knows clearly the identity of the One to come. John is the herald; the Coming One is the messianic deliverer.
(2) John accentuates further the contrast between himself and the Coming One by differentiating their baptisms: John baptized “with” (or “in”; cf. NIV text note) water for repentance, but the Coming One will baptize “with” (or “in”) the Holy Spirit and fire. Once again, John displays a straightforward understanding of his own role and place in God’s plan of redemption. John’s baptism will be superceded by the coming baptism.
John’s baptism was uniquely associated with repentance (see comments above; see also Mark 1:4; Luke 3:3; Acts 13:24; 19:4). But as unique as it was, it was only preparatory to the baptism associated with the Coming One. He will inaugurate a baptism that brings both eschatological blessing and judgment (both “wheat” and “chaff”; cf. also Joel 2:28–29).21 The Coming One will baptize the repentant—those who are prepared to receive him—with the blessing of the Holy Spirit. But the unrepentant—those who are not receptive to the Coming One—he will baptize with the judgment of eternal fire. Jesus regularly links his messianic ministry to John’s by use of this dual theme: He has come to bring healing and good news to the poor and oppressed (Matt. 11:4–5) and rest for the weary (11:25–30), yet those who reject his ministry and message face certain judgment (11:20–24; cf. John 3:31–36; 5:25–35).
By the use of a second metaphor, John declares that the time of this baptism is near. Drawing on a scene common to the experience of his listeners, he declares that the coming Messiah already has the winnowing fork in his hand. The harvest is ready to begin. At the end of a harvest season, the farmer brought the harvested wheat into the threshing floor, a stone or hard-packed dirt surface, often with a short wall around the perimeter. He then took a large pitchfork and tossed the wheat into the air, where the wind blew the lighter chaff away, leaving only the good wheat heads in the threshing floor. The wheat was then stored in the granary for later grinding into flour to make bread, but the chaff was raked into piles and burned.
The impact of this message on his audience must have been profound, because they are gathered with mixed motives. John is drawing a line in Israel that is intended to test the hearts of all who hear. Those who have come out to hear him with impure motives are even now being warned that the Messiah will bring judgment on them, a judgment that ultimately will be eternal. But those who have come out to hear him with sincere motives of repentance and confession of sin will be prepared for the coming of the Messiah and the outpouring of the Spirit. The repentant will form the nucleus of those who receive the Expected One’s gracious ministry.22
This message turns upside down the religious and social norms in Israel. The ones often considered most worthy because of their training, commitment, and dedication, such as the Pharisees and Sadducees, are the ones singled out for the most stinging criticism. But turning upside-down the norms in Israel is not new. The prophets were well known for criticizing the religious and political establishment. John’s message simply harks back to the standards of judgment and blessing that God had already established as the messianic ideal (see, e.g., Jer. 23). And that day of messianic revelation is at hand.
John Baptizes Jesus Messiah (3:13–17)
FOLLOWING THE THUNDERING, prophetic message of judgment that John the Baptist has given, anticipation is high for the arrival of the messianic deliverer. Up to this point the “Coming One” has not been identified. Now Jesus appears on the scene to lay claim to that identification.
What an unlikely figure! John has prepared us for a powerful figure coming with the might of the Holy Spirit and the judgment of fire. We might have expected the Coming One to arrive in Jerusalem, reclaiming the throne of David and the temple of Solomon. Or perhaps he would come out of the desert as a military conqueror, like the ancient warrior David, or a prophetic clarion, like John himself. Instead, Matthew says simply, “Then Jesus arrived from Galilee.” He comes as a solitary figure from the insignificant agricultural region of Galilee.
Perhaps the most unlikely feature is that Jesus asks to be baptized by John, like any of the rest of the crowd. Even John seems surprised, as he tries to stop Jesus from being baptized. John’s baptism is only with water and is preparatory to the greater baptism of the Holy Spirit and fire that the Messiah will inaugurate. Why does the expected Messiah want to be baptized by his forerunner?
Without a careful reading of the text, one might conclude that Jesus thought that he also needed conversion and purification, as did the crowd (3:2, 6).23 But John quickly dispels that possibility, because he knows Jesus’ identity as the One bringing the messianic baptism: “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” This is the more powerful One who inaugurates the kingdom that John has been proclaiming. Only at Jesus’ insistence (“Let it be so now”) does John consent to baptize Jesus, because “it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness” (3:15). Jesus’ baptism has far more significance than we might think. No wonder all four Gospels narrate this incident in one form or another (cf. Mark 1:9–11; Luke 3:21–22; John 1:29–34). This is the beginning of the ministry that will forever forge the direction of God’s relationship with his people.
What does Jesus mean that in his baptism he and John will “fulfill all righteousness”? The word “fulfill” (pleroo) continues the theme of “fulfillment” that has been so prominent in the beginning narrative of Matthew’s Gospel. Jesus’ conception, birth, and infancy fulfilled both specific and general prophecies (chs. 1–2), the appearance of John fulfills Old Testament expectations of the forerunner (3:3), and now Jesus’ baptism will “fulfill all righteousness.” Righteousness (dikaiosyne) is another important concept in Matthew’s Gospel (cf. 5:6, 10, 20; 6:1, 33; 21:32). Some suggest that Jesus means this in an ethical sense, that the baptism will fulfill all of the righteous expectations of the law, similar to what Jesus will declare in the Sermon on the Mount (cf. 5:17).24 However, the present context does not imply an ethical submission to God’s commands. Nowhere in the Old Testament is there a divine command to submit to John’s baptism. Therefore, submission to his baptism can hardly be thought of as an act of righteousness, and certainly no thought of fulfilling all righteousness.
Most likely Jesus means this in a salvation-historical sense. God’s saving activity prophesied throughout the Old Testament is now being fulfilled with the inauguration of Jesus’ ministry, culminating in his death on the cross. Perhaps Jesus has in mind the righteousness of Isaiah 53:11: “After the suffering of his soul, he will see the light of life and be satisfied; by his knowledge my righteous servant will justify many, and he will bear their iniquities.” Jesus will accomplish God’s will in the sense of God’s saving activity. This is supported by the similar salvation-historical reference to John the Baptist in 21:31–32.25 Jesus is expressing his obedience to God’s plan of salvation that has been revealed in the Scriptures.26
The public baptism, therefore, provides concrete salvation-historical continuity between John’s and Jesus’ ministries. As Jesus identifies himself with John in the baptism, this represents an endorsement of John’s ministry and message and links Jesus’ cause to John’s. Moreover, as Jesus goes into the waters of baptism, he identifies with his people in their need; that is, he identifies with the sinful humanity he has come to save, and especially at this point in time, with the believing remnant of Israel who come to be baptized.27 Leon Morris paints a graphic picture:
Jesus might well have been up there in front standing with John and calling on sinners to repent. Instead he was down there with the sinners, affirming his solidarity with them, making himself one with them in the process of the salvation that he would in due course accomplish.28
Jesus now will bring to fulfillment the ministry John began. He is the “more powerful” One to whom John pointed, who fulfills the hope of righteousness as the Davidic King and righteous Servant. But more important, he is also Immanuel, “God with us,” and Jesus, the one who will “save his people from their sins” (1:21–23). He identifies with John’s salvation-historical ministry, but he does so from the water, identifying with the very people he has come to save. Hence, Jesus will now receive the anointing of the Spirit and the confirmation of the Father to accomplish his mission, further indications of the reason for his baptism.
Imagine the scene. John has declared openly and firmly his expectations about the judgment to accompany the powerful Coming One. The people have banked their future on the hope of the coming of the kingdom of God. And now the One recognized by John to embody those dreams simply goes into the waters of the Jordan River to be baptized like any of the people. It seems so anticlimactic, and even paradoxical. But out of that unassuming scene comes a dramatic enactment of God to present Jesus for his messianic mission, as he experiences a threefold revelation: He sees the heavens open; he sees the Spirit of God descend as a dove on him; and he hears God’s voice acknowledge him as his beloved Son.
(1) As Jesus comes up from the water,29 “heaven was opened.” This “divine passive”30 hints that God himself is opening the communication gates of heaven to reveal something momentous. This is a common expression in Scripture to refer to significant times of God revealing something important to his people (cf. Isa. 64:1; Ezek. 1:1; John 1:51; Acts 7:56; 10:11).
(2) Jesus then “saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and lighting on him.” The Spirit does not take the form of a dove but rather some visible manifestation, indicating the real descent of the Spirit on Jesus. The dove symbol expresses characteristics often associated with a dove, such as gentleness and peace in contrast to judgment (recall the dove sent out by Noah to determine whether God’s time of judgment had ended, Gen. 8:10), or the superintending and creative action of the Spirit hovering over the waters of the new creation (Gen. 1:2).
The descent of the Spirit alludes to the anointing of the Servant of the Lord by the Spirit in Isaiah 42:1—which will be the words quoted by the heavenly voice in Matthew 3:17 (cf. 12:18)—and the anointing of the Davidic Branch by the Spirit in Isaiah 11:2. Jesus’ anointing by the Spirit is both the coronation of Israel’s Messiah and the commissioning of God’s righteous Servant for the work he will now carry out in the power and presence of the Spirit.31 The One who is to baptize with the Spirit (Matt. 3:11), who will be guided and empowered by the Spirit (4:1), who will inaugurate the messianic age of salvation through the Spirit (12:18–21; cf. Isa. 42:1–4; 61:1), is now anointed by the Spirit for his public messianic ministry.
This is not to suggest that in his baptism Jesus receives the Spirit for the first time. His conception itself was “through the Holy Spirit” (1:20), which indicates that even as John the Baptist was filled with the Spirit from the womb, so was Jesus. Rather, the descent of the Spirit in the baptism is a formal anointing that inaugurates Jesus’ public ministry. John the Baptist declares elsewhere that the Spirit’s descent on Jesus is what confirmed for him that Jesus was indeed the Son of God (John 1:32–34). This is the visible, confirming sign that Jesus is the long-expected Messiah, the One for whom John has been preparing the way.
(3) The symbolism of the dove is made explicit as a voice sounds out from heaven. For the Jewish people of the time, although they considered that prophecy had ceased with Malachi, a voice from God could still be heard. But that voice was indirect and did not have binding authority.32 Now sounds a voice that is far different. The presence of the Messiah brings with him the direct voice from God with all of its authority. With the arrival of the prophetic figure John the Baptist, with the descent of the Spirit on the anointed Messiah, and with a voice from the Father, God is resuming direct communication. The voice gives a dual pronouncement of the identity and nature of Jesus through citing excerpts of two messianically significant passages: Psalm 2:7 and Isaiah 42:1.
(a) The statement “This is my Son, whom I love” calls to mind the well-known image of father and son in Psalm 2:7: “I will proclaim the decree of the LORD: He said to me, “You are my Son.” The title “Son of God” had clear messianic significance prior to Jesus’ ministry.33 The expression “whom I love” may have evoked images of Isaac, who is called Abraham’s “son, your only son . . . whom you love” (Gen. 22:2), but more important is the relationship that is declared between Jesus and the voice. Jesus is the Son, the voice is from the Father, and at the heart of their relationship is love. Nothing is said here of when that relationship began, but Matthew has already informed us that Jesus’ conception has marked him out as of divine origin (1:20, 23; cf. 2:15). This is not the language of adoption but of confirmation of an existing relationship of divine love between the heavenly Father and his Son.34
(b) The statement “with him I am well pleased” takes our understanding of Jesus’ mission one step further by drawing on Isaiah 42:1 for another messianically significant figure—the “Servant.”
Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
my chosen one in whom I delight;
I will put my Spirit on him
and he will bring justice to the nations.
In the declaration of the Father, Jesus is heralded as the Servant who is enabled by the Spirit’s anointing to bring justice to the nations. This link will be made explicit as the narrative unfolds, when Matthew cites Isaiah 42:1–4 in the context of clarifying the purpose of Jesus’ ministry (cf. Matt. 12:17–21).
As the background to the Father’s declaration, these passages point out two distinct emphases of Jesus’ identity, self-understanding, and mission. (1) He is the divine Son and the suffering Servant, a pronouncement that recalls the double entendre of the Nazarene allusion (2:23) and will be repeated by the voice in the Transfiguration (17:5). The Father has placed into the hands of his beloved Son the mission of the Servant to bring salvation to the nations (Isa. 42:1, 4). Love and obedience will sustain the relationship and actualize the mission, because the Father’s will for the beloved Son must include obedience to the cross as the Son takes on himself the iniquity of his people (Matt. 26:39, 42; cf. Isa. 53).
(2) Through the anointing by the Spirit, the Father formally inaugurates Jesus into his public ministry as the unique Son, who is the triumphant messianic King (Ps. 2), yet the humble Servant (Isa. 42). He will accomplish his Father’s will in coming to his people Israel (Matt. 10:6; 15:24), yet he brings hope to the nations (Matt. 28:18). These are the themes that will characterize the unfolding story of Jesus Messiah.
Bridging Contexts
THE CELEBRATED JEWISH novelist Chaim Potok has written a history of his people, which he entitled Wanderings. He narrates a grand and gripping story, tracing the Jewish people back through the ancient wanderings of Abraham among ancient paganism, through the centuries of the Diaspora as his kinspeople wandered through Islam and Christianity, up to the contemporary Jewish people wandering inside modern secular paganism.
In the introduction, Potok tells of his father’s Judaism. It was a Judaism based on hope, but a hope that had to be worked out in the difficulties of this life. His father had served in a Polish unit of the Austrian army during World War I and often spoke of his Jewish heritage in military terms. For him the Jews were the reconnaissance troops of God’s vanguard, and they
would succeed one day in establishing the Kingdom of God on earth. Of that he had no doubt. . . . My father saw history as the path that led from the creation of the world by God almost six thousand years ago to the future coming of the Messiah and the redemption, first of Jewry and then of all mankind.35
That was the Judaism in which Potok was raised and instructed. But Potok’s own Judaism has been reshaped. As he left the confines of his father’s world and encountered both the loveliness and the suffering of other cultures that existed outside Judaism, the “neat antique coherence of my past came undone,” Potok writes.36 He has spent much of his adult life trying to make sense of the uniqueness of his people, who have endured so much suffering, who have clung so tenaciously to their hopes, yet whose hopes no longer seem relevant in the modern world. Reshaped and transformed especially were his father’s hope of the coming kingdom of God, the hope of a future Messiah, and the hope of redemption. Now the hopes seem so hopeless.
Expectations of the Messiah. The Jews of the first century experienced various kinds of reshaping and transformation as well, and Matthew wrote his Gospel to address their hopes. He looked out on the same Jewish heritage and narrates another kind of story—a story of arrivals. Hundreds of years of wandering through exile and oppression were real for his audience. But the prophetic message that sustained their hope was now fulfilled. John the Baptist, that fiery messenger of God, announced that the hoped-for kingdom of God, the hoped-for Messiah, and the hoped-for redemption of Israel and the entire human race had indeed arrived.
But it was a different kind of hope than many in Israel expected. Various groups within Israel had reshaped their hopes for a coming kingdom of God or for a coming Messiah. Some were engrossed in ritual practices to purify themselves. Others immersed themselves in meticulous study and interpretation of their Scriptures in an attempt to make relevant an old message. Some thought of a conquering king approaching, while others thought of a kingdom in which the temple and its priestly sacrifices and purity would be paramount. Still others thought of God’s judgment and wrath poured out. Finally, some had nearly given up hope of God’s intervention and took their hopes into their own hands, whether through political action or violent revolution. Different groups within Israel took their same Hebrew Scriptures and focused on specific strands of prophecy to end up with diverse expectations of what God would do when he sent his messianic deliverance at the end of the age.37
Chaim Potok’s reshaping of his own understanding of his Jewish faith is not so new. It was occurring in the first century. That reshaping often caused people to have their expectations so entrenched that they had difficulty actually accepting God’s work among them.
Matthew declares that Jesus is the Expected One foretold by John the Baptist in fulfillment of the Old Testament prophets, but it is a far more astounding truth than most in Israel had anticipated. It will blow away their expectations. Their thinking will need to be reshaped, and that is what Matthew does. On the one level he tells the story, but on another level he reshapes his readers’ understanding to reconform their hopes to those revealed through the prophets.
The gospel of the kingdom. Matthew writes for us, therefore, not a biography in the modern sense of an exhaustive account of a person’s life; rather, he writes for us a “gospel,”38 an account of the good news that Jesus Messiah has brought salvation to his people. He focuses on significant events and teachings in the life of this one born “king of the Jews” (2:2), which establish Jesus’ rightful claim as the One who will “save his people from their sins” (1:21). Matthew uses the noun “gospel” (euangelion) only four times, and three of those four occur in his unique phrase “gospel of the kingdom” (4:23; 9:35; 24:14).39 The “good news” that Matthew stresses for his readers is that the age of the kingdom of God has finally dawned. Matthew’s quotation of the kernel of John’s message in 3:2 captures a theme that will be central to his message. It is the same message Jesus will announce at the beginning of his public ministry (4:17) and the Twelve will preach on their missionary tour through Israel (10:5).
We have seen how Matthew emphasized the genealogy of Jesus as One who has a right to the throne of David, the miraculous conception of the One who will save his people from their sins, and the birth and divine protection of this One born “king of the Jews.” Now he focuses on the prophesied herald and the actual arrival of the Coming One on the scene of Israel’s religious landscape. No doubt many who heard John were highly devout individuals who recognized in his message the prophetic voice of God. Many were at least nominally religious. But John’s baptism called for a personal commitment of all the people to God’s new activity within Israel. Those responding were heeding the call to the presence of the kingdom and arrival of the Coming One whom John announced.
The mind-boggling truth of Jesus as Son of God. We are all probably too familiar with Jesus to recognize how difficult it was for people in the first century, including later even his own disciples, to comprehend fully who he was. We have learned from our earliest years in Sunday school, youth groups, and Bible studies that Jesus is both God and human. We have recited doctrinal creeds and heard countless sermons discuss Jesus’ divine and human natures. But our familiarity with the truth numbs us to the reality. As Malcolm Muggeridge says, “The coming of Jesus into the world is the most stupendous event in human history.”40
It is not just the religious significance of Jesus’ ministry to which Muggeridge refers. He refers especially to the mind-boggling truth that God actually became a human and lived among us. It will remain for Paul and the apostle John to explain the significance of the Incarnation for human redemption. Matthew writes to recount the good news of the Incarnation’s reality. He has already given his readers a behind-the-scenes understanding of Jesus’ identity as he unfolded the messianic pedigree (1:1–17), and narrated accounts of the divine conception (1:18–25) and prophetically anticipated messianic infancy (ch. 2). Now he gives further insight to Jesus’ true identity in his baptism (3:13–17). He is the anointed Messiah, the beloved Son, and the suffering Servant. We should note two points here.
(1) In 3:16–17 we have the appearance of the Spirit, the presence of the Son, and the voice of the Father. As Leon Morris states, “Matthew has certain trinitarian interest.”41 He will conclude his Gospel with another Trinitarian allusion in Jesus’ instruction that new disciples are to be baptized in the singular name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit (28:19). Matthew lays out a clear picture of Jesus’ deity by drawing on Old Testament prophecies. Prior to the Incarnation the strong divine language of some of these prophecies could not be adequately understood and led to the diversity of views concerning the nature of the Messiah. But for Matthew, the reality of the Incarnation now makes clear God’s revelation: Jesus is the divine Son of God.42
(2) John said that Jesus would baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire (cf. Acts 2), and now in his baptism Jesus is anointed by the Spirit. This inaugurates the age of the Spirit foretold by the prophet Joel (Joel 2:28–29). The consistent Christological picture in the New Testament reveals Jesus as a person who is fully divine in his essence and attributes during his time on earth, yet he does not operate in glorious display of his deity. Rather, he lives a fully human life in the power of the Spirit, giving his followers the ultimate example of a Spirit-led and empowered life, the example of how true human life is to be lived.
The reality of Jesus as the incarnate Son of God is a mind-boggling truth, if we allow ourselves to reflect deeply on the story that Matthew unfolds. It truly is the only sufficient answer to the hopes of the Jewish people in the first century—and the hopes for all people today.43 As we reflect on this truth, we will find that the story will reshape our own expectations of what kingdom life is all about.
Contemporary Significance
AT THIS POINT in Matthew’s account, he has not revealed the full story of what the announced kingdom of heaven will be like. John has announced its arrival, and Jesus has been anointed by the Spirit and confirmed by the Father to undertake its establishment. We will have to look closely at Jesus’ ministry and teaching as it unfolds throughout this Gospel to understand the kingdom’s characteristics and activities. But Matthew has already given us some important clues, especially as the arrival has confronted the expectations of many within Israel. The expectations of the people, of the religious leaders, and even of John himself must be either overturned or reshaped.
While many of us do not have backgrounds that contribute to a fully developed concept of a kingdom, our own expectations similarly will need to be either overturned or reshaped as we consider the implications of our life in the kingdom of heaven. I emphasize this to my students through an acted analogy.
Walking into a classroom full of students, I shout out, “I’m the king!” After letting them recover from their shock, I ask them what came to their mind first when they heard me.
“King Arthur and his round table,” said one student.
“I’m the king of the world!” shouted out a student, as he thought of the scene from the blockbuster movie Titanic.
Another student yelled, “There’s been another sighting of Elvis Presley!”
And another sang out, “If I . . . were the king . . . of the foreeeeeest!” bringing to mind the whimsical lion from The Wizard of Oz.
We all carry around different mental memories and pictures of what a “king” and “kingdom” are like, depending on our past experiences and mindset. If you were to walk up to a person on the street and invite her or him to come enter the kingdom, you would have to do a lot of explaining about what you meant, because she or he has already formed a mental picture of what she remembers and what he wants.
In other words, our own expectations will likely need to be either overturned or reshaped. What is your expectation of the kingdom? At the least, we can see from the incidents surrounding John the Baptist’s announcement of the kingdom, along with Jesus’ baptism and anointing as the Messiah of the kingdom, several important implications.
A warning of judgment, but also an invitation to life and change. First, the arrival of God’s kingdom in the preaching of John the Baptist is a warning of judgment, but it is also an invitation to life and an expectation of real change in the lives of those who respond. This will be explained more fully as Jesus’ ministry unfolds, but the arrival of the kingdom of God promises to bring with it kingdom life. John fully expected the Coming One to bring wrath and final judgment on the unrepentant. But he also fully expected the coming of the kingdom to include the gathering of the repentant into safekeeping and their baptism with the Holy Spirit. Within the kingdom is life; outside the kingdom is death.
The preaching of John the Baptist was a definite intrusion into the lives of those around him. Not many of us would relish giving this kind of “hell and brimstone” sermon. We don’t like to offend. Many a pastor, sitting by the bedside of a dying patient who has consistently rejected the tender message of salvation, struggles with the appropriateness of giving such a terrifying message of judgment to the very end. But John does warn us, as will Jesus later (11:20–24), of the coming judgment for those who reject the message of the arriving kingdom of God. We must be clear about this warning for ourselves and for those around us.
Although John’s chronology of the arrival of messianic judgment has yet to be accomplished, it surely will come. We can create a warped view of God and the gospel by overemphasizing the judgment to come, but we just as surely distort people’s view if we minimize the reality of judgment. There is no more painful, helpless, utterly desperate feeling than thinking of a loved one who has just gone into eternity with fist clenched against God. But great is the peace when thinking of a loved one safely in the receiving arms of God because he or she has heeded the warning and turned to the Savior.
But John isn’t just holding out death. He is inviting those who respond to his message to experience life, to escape from the wrath to come, and to await the baptism of the Holy Spirit that the Coming One will bring. No message of judgment should ever be given without the accompanying message of promised life for those who respond.
This isn’t just an escape into the future by and by. Real life promises real change in the present realm of our daily lives. The change of mind and direction of life that is one’s responsibility in repentance is obvious. But John does not hold out the latest self-help promotion. Instead, he points to the source of real change: the Holy Spirit. The promised age of the pouring out of the Holy Spirit in Joel (Joel 2:28–29) is described by Ezekiel as the age of God’s new covenant, when he will put his Spirit in his people (Ezek. 36:26–27). What kind of change will this be? Ezekiel promised purification and the ability to be obedient to God’s law. But he connects all of this to the new heart that will be put into new covenant people. These are the beginning hints of the theme of regeneration through the Spirit, a theme that will later characterize not only Jesus’ teaching (cf. John 3:3–7) but will be a foundational truth of Paul and the early church (Titus 3:4–7).
Change is not only possible, but it is the reality of those who experience the “new birth” and transforming power of the Spirit. All of this is hinted at in John’s message in his reference to bearing fruit. He points to inner life and inner change that will ultimately produce external change. Profession is not enough; bearing fruit is required. “Profession” is the external assertion that a person has repented and has received new life, but “bearing fruit” is the external evidence that the new life is real. The inner life-giving force of a tree will always produce fruit in keeping with the nature of the tree. The arrival of the kingdom will be accompanied by the Spirit, who will give life to all who respond.
The snare of spiritual pedigree. Religious pedigree does not guarantee participation in the kingdom of heaven. John pays no homage to the ancestral pedigree of the Pharisees and the Sadducees, who have Abraham as their father (3:2, 9). We might find this surprising, since the covenantal promises to Abraham marked the beginning of the people of Israel (Gen. 12:1–3; 15:1–19). But in his warning to the religious leaders, John does not strike out anew. A consistent theme of the prophets all along has been that Israel ought not rely on pedigree or marks of the covenant, such as circumcision, but rather to “circumcise [their] hearts” (e.g., Jer. 4:4). God was the one who had established his people by choosing them as a covenantal people, and if he chose to do so, he could create a new people for himself even from stones (Matt. 3:9). Participation in the kingdom of God is a heart matter. Repentance means first and foremost to have one’s heart rightly directed toward God, which will then be evidenced by the fruit of one’s life.
I shudder at times when I remember that I am a “professional Christian.” I am paid to study the Bible, to teach the Scripture, to stand and pray before my classes and the church. When it comes right down to the specifics of who we are as people, the Pharisees and Sadducees are not much different from you or me. There will be some of these religious leaders, such as Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, who will acknowledge the movement of God in John’s message and Jesus’ ministry and will repent and turn to the arrival of the kingdom of heaven. But others will be so filled with the duties of their religious life and a commitment to their own understanding of God’s message in the Old Testament that they ignore, and later reject, Jesus’ offer to enter the kingdom of heaven. The privilege of their inclusion in the people of Israel and the added privilege of their leadership position are no guarantee of inclusion in the arrival of the kingdom.
This is no minor issue for us. To be born into a Christian home is a tremendous privilege. It is a privilege to have Christian parents who attempt to live out a godly lifestyle and who try to guide their children into the kind of life God has intended for us. Christian parents are privileged to have the guidance of Scripture and the Spirit to help them raise their children in the right way.
But Christian parents and children alike need to remember that there are no guarantees. The privilege of a Christian home must be accompanied by accountability. Christian parents must be diligent to lead their children not simply to church activities, but most important to understand what it means to present their hearts to God. And children of Christian families must not bank on the faith of their parents. Each of us will stand alone before God to render accountability with what we have done with our lives.
Also, we who are privileged to be involved in full-time Christian ministry must remember the trap of professionalism that John, and Jesus throughout his ministry, consistently warn against. So I shudder when I recognize the possibility of becoming like those Pharisees and Sadducees who hardened their heart to God through empty religious activities (see comments on 6:1–18). I must open my own heart to God to live in sincerity before him and experience the ministry of God in my own life, leading me to experience the fruit of a life lived in humble dependence on the Spirit of God.
Humility. We must take God’s calling on our lives with deadly seriousness, but we must not get caught up with appearances. This third implication surfaces from observing the character qualities of John and Jesus as they fulfill their callings. John not only had a large following; he also demonstrated authority as he rebuked the religious leaders for their hypocrisy. But he did not get carried away with his own importance. He understood clearly his role and knew that there was One coming after him who would be greater, who would have a greater role. John did not balk at being surpassed. Jesus was the greater One, the Messiah, the divine Son of God, who was ready to assume his momentous redemptive role. Yet Jesus assumed a position of subservience as he submitted himself to the waters of baptism by John. He did not balk at appearing lesser.
This is a tremendous lesson on self-understanding in carrying out God’s calling on our lives. Neither John nor Jesus got carried away with appearances. They demonstrated strength in carrying out their roles in the plan of salvation, yet that strength also included diminishing the appearance of their own importance. The key word here is humility, a term that does not get much good press in our day. We hear much more of rights. Perhaps it is not new, because the picture that John and Jesus give every age is the incongruity of their humility relative to the significance of their roles. We do not like to give up our appearance of importance. Thus, John and Jesus give us a powerful example of humility. Knowing God’s purposes and not allowing our self-promotion to get in the way enable us to accomplish God’s calling for our lives as well.
The one who can make us most uncomfortable here is, of course, Jesus. How hard, really, was it for him to appear humbly at the waters of John’s baptism? Did he really wrestle with such mundane things as self-image, and appearances, and his role? I think so. He was that human. All the things that we struggle with, he experienced (cf. Heb 4:14–16). That is why he is our example. That is a key element for his entrance to history. He not only accomplished salvation for us, but he also gave us the model of what a real human life lived in the power of the Spirit is like. This does not in any way diminish his deity. Instead, it gives us a beginning glimpse of what his Incarnation entailed. He laid aside both the glory and the independent exercise of his deity to live a life like you and me. That is why he is the very real, very tangible example of what our lives are being transformed into (see 2 Cor. 3:18).
We can be uncomfortable with such a Savior. We would much rather focus on his strength—as so we shall. But his strength comes from his humble dependence on the same Spirit that you and I depend on. That is the nature of his Incarnation, to which Matthew now turns as he narrates Jesus’ entrance into the cosmic battle through his temptations from Satan.