THIS IS HOW the birth of Jesus Christ came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. 19Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.
20But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”
22All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: 23“The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel”—which means, “God with us.”
24When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. 25But he had no union with her until she gave birth to a son. And he gave him the name Jesus.
Original Meaning
AT THE START of this crucial narrative section, Matthew signals with a mild adversative1 that he has come to the central focus and purpose for listing the preceding genealogy—the conception and birth of the Messiah. Jesus is both son of David and son of Abraham (1:1), but also is now revealed to be the Son of God.2 The beginning3 of a new era in Israel’s history occurs with the story of Jesus’ conception in the little town of Nazareth in Galilee (cf. Luke 2:4–5). Joseph and Mary are both at this time in Nazareth because it is their hometown (Luke 2:39) and the place where they will eventually raise their son (see comments on Matt. 2:23; Luke 2:39–40).
The Angelic Announcement of the Conception of Jesus Messiah (1:18–21)
AS WAS THE custom for young people anticipating marriage, Joseph and Mary were pledged to each other in a period of “betrothal” or “engagement,” a more weighty undertaking than is found in many current cultures. The marriage customs of Jewish culture at that time usually included two basic stages of the relationship, the betrothal and the wedding.4
(1) The betrothal stage involved the choosing of a spouse. The family in ancient Near Eastern culture usually initiated the arrangements. A text from the Laws of Eshnunna from Babylonia (ca. 2000 B.C.) states: “If a man takes a(nother) man’s daughter without asking the permission of her father and her mother and concludes no formal marriage contract with her father and her mother, even though she may live in his house for a year, she is not a housewife.”5 The Old Testament nowhere gave such a binding legislation, recognizing that a good wife is from the Lord, not one’s parents (Prov. 19:14), and we find examples of young men and women making their preferences known (Ruth 2–4). Yet customarily the parents of a young man chose a young woman to be engaged to their son (e.g., Gen. 21:21; 38:6). Young men and women were often pledged between twelve and thirteen years of age, although later rabbinic texts suggest that men in Jesus’ day often married around the age of eighteen (m. ʾAbot 5:21; b. Qidd. 29b–30a).
A second stage of betrothal involved official arrangements. In a formal prenuptial agreement before witnesses, the young man and woman entered into the official state of betrothal. This was a legally binding contract, which gave the man legal rights over the young woman, and it could only be broken by a formal process of divorce (cf. m. Ketub. 1:2; 4:2). Three types of gifts could be exchanged during this period. (a) The bride price (cf. Gen. 34:12) was a compensation gift from the family of the bridegroom to the family of the bride, sealing the covenant and binding the two families. (b) The dowry (cf. Gen. 24:59) was a gift to the bride or the groom from her father, enabling them economically to start a new family. (c) The bridegroom’s gift to the bride was a symbol of commitment to their relationship (cf. Gen. 24:53).
Apparently the terminology “husband” and “wife” were used during this stage to refer to the betrothed partners (see 1:16, 19, 20, 24). While there is some evidence in Judea of the betrothed couple being alone during this interval at the man’s father’s home (m. Ketub. 1:5; b. Ketub. 9b. 12a), in Galilee sexual relations between the betrothed partners were not tolerated, and the girl did not leave her own family to live with the man. Sexual unfaithfulness with another person during this stage was considered adultery, the penalty for which was death by stoning (cf. Lev. 20:10; Deut. 22:23–24), although by New Testament times stoning was rare. If one of the partners died during the betrothal period, the one remaining alive was a “widow” or “widower.” Therefore, Joseph was considered Mary’s “husband” (1:19) even though Matthew specifies that this was “before they came together,” a euphemism for sexual relations (cf. 1 Cor. 7:5).
(2) In a formal ceremony about a year after the betrothal, the marriage proper took place (m. Ketub. 5:2; m. Ned. 10:5). Dressed in special wedding garments, the bridegroom and companions went in procession to the bride’s home and escorted the bride and bridesmaids back to the groom’s home, where a wedding supper was held (Matt. 22:1–14; cf. Ps. 45:14–15). Parents and friends blessed the couple (Gen. 24:60; Tobit 7:13), and the father of the bride drew up a written marriage contract. Soon afterward in a specially prepared nuptial chamber (cf. Ps. 19:5; Tobit 7:16), the couple prayed and then sexually consummated the marriage, after which a bloodstained cloth was exhibited as proof of the bride’s virginity (Deut. 22:13–21). The wedding festivities continued sometimes for a week or more (Gen. 29:27; Tobit 8:20). Afterward the couple established their own household, although they usually lived with the extended family.
By the time of the narrative in Matthew, Mary is approximately four months pregnant. She has spent three months with Elizabeth, her “relative”6 (Luke 1:36, 56), but now returns to Nazareth, where she “was found” to be pregnant. This does not imply that Mary has attempted to conceal the pregnancy (i.e., she is “found out”), but rather that it becomes known to others, including Joseph. This is not yet public knowledge, because Joseph can still divorce her privately (1:19).
Matthew states simply that the child was conceived through7 the Holy Spirit. Without knowing of the supernatural origin of the conception, Joseph naturally thinks that Mary has committed adultery.8 As a righteous man it was appropriate for him to obtain a certificate of divorce. This is the normal sense of “righteous” in the Old Testament—right behavior according to the law. The same adjective is used of Zechariah and Elizabeth (Luke 1:6) and Simeon (2:25).
But at this point Joseph experiences a personal dilemma. He cannot follow through and marry her, because that would condone what he thinks is Mary’s sin of adultery. Divorce for adultery was not optional but mandatory among many groups in ancient Judaism, because adultery produced a state of impurity that, as a matter of legal fact, dissolved the marriage.9 Yet, his concern for her long-term reputation compels him to avoid exposing Mary to public disgrace.10
Therefore, Joseph has only two options open to him. On the one hand, he could seek a public divorce, where her condition will become known overtly. But then she will be subject to community disgrace as an adulteress, and it could make her liable to be stoned according to the law. On the other hand, he could divorce her privately. The law did not require the deed to be made public, making allowance for a relatively private divorce (two or three witnesses). The latter was the only option that would allow Joseph to maintain his personal righteousness according to the law and yet save Mary from public disgrace and from possible death.11
The character and compassion of Joseph is revealed in this dilemma. Matthew distinguishes between Joseph’s purpose (thelo; NIV “did not want”) and desire (boulomai; NIV “he had in mind”). Joseph intends to maintain his personal righteousness, yet his desire is also to have compassion for the woman to whom he is engaged, even though he considers her an adulteress.
Into this dilemma comes the stunning appearance of the angel of the Lord (1:20), who announces in a dream to Joseph the miraculous conception of the child (1:20). Sometimes in the Old Testament God himself is represented by the phrase “the angel of the LORD,”12 but here the angel is one of God’s created spirit beings.13 The word “angel” (angelos, “messenger”) speaks of one of the primary roles of angels as messengers from God to humanity.14 Nothing is said of this angel’s appearance, but angels sometimes took the form of humans in the Old Testament (Gen. 18).
Angels are not normally named in Scripture, except for Michael (Dan. 10:13; Rev. 12:7, 8) and Gabriel (Dan. 8:15–26; 9:20–27; Luke 1:26). Gabriel is “the angel of the Lord” who announces both the conception of John the Baptist to Zechariah and the conception of Jesus to Mary (Luke 1:11–20, 26–38). It is plausible that the unnamed “angel of the Lord” who announces the birth of Jesus to the shepherds (Luke 2:9) and the conception of Jesus to Joseph here in Matthew’s narrative (Matt. 1:20–23) is also Gabriel, who seems to have a special role in announcements.15 In Matthew’s narrative, angels specifically appear only in the infancy accounts (Matt. 1:20, 24; 2:13, 19), at Jesus’ temptation (4:11), and in the resurrection scene (28:2, 5), fitting testimony to these significant events in Jesus’ ministry. Angels are also mentioned in Jesus’ teaching, indicating either their present or future roles in human history (4:6; 13:39, 41, 49; 16:27; 18:10; 22:30; 24:31, 36; 25:31, 41; 26:53).
Dreams were commonly believed in the ancient world not only to be of natural origin but also to be a medium of divine communication.16 In the Old Testament, dreams were believed to derive from natural (Eccl. 5:3), divine (Gen. 28:12; Dan. 2:19), and evil (Deut. 13:1, 2; Jer. 23:32) sources. The primary use of the dream in the Old Testament is to point to a message from God about present activities (Num. 12:6; Job 33:15–17) or future events (Gen. 37:5–11; Dan. 7:1–28). In the New Testament, the expression “in a dream” (kat’ onar) is found only in Matthew’s Gospel. In each case the dream is in some way related to Jesus and involves some kind of supernatural guidance (cf. Matt. 1:20; 2:12, 13, 19, 22; 27:19).
The angelic appearance in a dream provides the guidance Joseph needs. The angel addresses Joseph as “son of David,” the only time in Matthew’s Gospel that the expression is used of anyone other than Jesus. The title ties Joseph and these incidents to the preceding genealogy (1:1). The regal line will now be tested as Joseph is called to play a significant role in the arrival of the Davidic Messiah. The command “do not be afraid” (1:20) does not imply that fear figures into Joseph’s dilemma about his pregnant betrothed Mary. Rather, he is not to fear the consequences and stigma that will be attached to him when he completes the wedding stage of the marital relationship. Who will believe the staggering story of the angel’s next words?
The angel dramatically announces to Joseph that the conception of the child is from the Holy Spirit,17 not from Joseph (which Joseph knows personally) or any other man (which he has suspected). Here at the beginning of the New Testament age, the Holy Spirit plays a crucial role. Old Testament writers repeatedly refer to the Spirit of God as the agency of God’s power (e.g., Gen. 1:2; Judg. 3:10), but not until the Incarnation is the Spirit clearly understood as a person distinct from the Father and Son. Matthew pays special attention to this distinction (cf. Matt. 3:16–17; 10:20; 12:18, 28; 28:19), preparing the way for understanding that in the present age, the Holy Spirit has been sent to carry out the work of God on the stage of human history. Jesus Messiah is God incarnate, whose miraculous conception and origin are only explained through the work of God the Holy Spirit.
The name “Jesus” was popular in Judaism of the first century (see comments on 1:1), given to sons as a symbolic hope for Yahweh’s anticipated sending of salvation. A widely held expression of this hope was the expectation of a Messiah who would save Israel from Roman oppression and purify his people (e.g., Pss. Sol. 17). But the angel draws on a less popular, although perhaps more important theme: salvation from sin as the basic need of Israel (cf. Ps. 130:8; Pss. Sol. 18:3–5). This salvation is now at hand, so Matthew points his readers to the central purpose of Jesus’ earthly life and ministry: He himself “will save his people from their sins” by giving his life a ransom for many (cf. 20:28).
The term for people here is laos, which normally indicates the people of Israel in Matthew’s narrative (e.g., 4:16; 27:25). The expression draws the reader back to the genealogy and the established royal status of Jesus as the Davidic Messiah, heir to David’s throne over the people of Israel (1:6, 16). But here “his people” goes beyond only Israel and ultimately points to the salvation that Messiah offers to the entire world as the son of Abraham (1:1; cf. 2:6; 3:9; 8:11; 16:18). This salvation brought by Jesus will be the basis of the righteousness of the kingdom of heaven that he inaugurates as the One who fulfills the law (cf. 4:12–17; 5:17–20).18
The Prophesied Immanuel (1:22–23)
THE NARRATIVE CONTINUES with the reader being informed that the events of Jesus’ miraculous conception fulfill a prophecy from the Lord through the prophet Isaiah. The words spoken here may be a continuation of the angel’s message in the dream to Joseph, the only time in Scripture an angel quotes Scripture to clarify how these events fulfill an ancient prophecy.19 Or, more likely, these words are an interpretive aside by Matthew, clarifying for his readers how the preceding events relate to Old Testament prophecy.20 The events of the supernatural conception of Jesus Messiah take place “to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet.” Matthew emphasizes that the prophecy is ultimately from the Lord, but the prophet is the intermediate agent through whom God spoke to his people.21
This introduces the first instance of Matthew’s “fulfillment formula.” Similar expressions occur prominently in chapter 2, but also throughout the Gospel (see 2:5–6, 15, 17–18, 23; 4:14–16; 8:17; 11:10; 12:17–21; 13:14–15, 35; 21:4–5; 26:31, 56; 27:9–10). This formula occurs only in Matthew among the Synoptic Gospels in such a regular fashion (cf. also John 12:38–39; 13:18; 19:24, 28, 36–37). The precise construction of the fulfillment formula varies somewhat,22 but regularly involves an introduction wherein Matthew points to an event or teaching of Jesus that “fulfills” (pleroo) an Old Testament passage, which is then normally cited.
As discussed in the introduction, “fulfill” can indicate a direct prediction-fulfillment, in which an event of Jesus’ earthly life and ministry brings to actualization predictive prophecy (e.g., 1:22–23). Or “fulfill” can indicate the way in which Jesus’ life and teaching bring to full meaning the entire Old Testament Scripture (e.g., 5:17–20). Or “fulfill” can indicate the way in which Jesus’ earthly life and ministry is a divinely orchestrated analogical or typological correspondence or recapitulation of the nation of Israel’s history (e.g., 2:15, 17–18).
Here, Matthew declares that the events surrounding the conception of Jesus fulfills directly the prophet Isaiah’s sublime prophecy made during the dark days of national threat under the reign of Ahaz, king of Judah. In 734 B.C. Ahaz feared his reign would soon end because of the threat of attack from the north. Pekah king of Israel and Rezin king of Aram (Syria) had formed an unholy alliance and were threatening to invade Judah and replace Ahaz with a puppet king, the son of Tabeel (Isa. 7:6). The prophet Isaiah declared that God would not allow this to happen, reassuring Ahaz that God would maintain the promise that a descendent of David would sit on his throne forever (2 Sam. 7:11–17). In order to confirm that these two kings would not conquer Judah, Isaiah prophesied that the Lord would give to Ahaz a sign: A virgin would give birth.
There are two primary words for “virgin” in Hebrew. The term ʿalmah, which occurs in the prophecy of Isaiah 7:14, means “maiden” or “young girl,” and many scholars contend that it almost always refers to an unmarried, virgin woman (e.g., Gen. 24:43; Ex. 2:8; Ps. 68:25).23 The other primary term is betulah, which can indicate a “virgin” (Gen. 24:16; Lev. 21:3) but also an “old widow” (Joel 1:8). The Greek translators of Isaiah 7:14 rendered the Hebrew term ʿalmah with the Greek word parthenos, which almost without exception specifies a sexually mature, unmarried woman who is a virgin.24
The history of interpretation of Isaiah 7:14 and its relationship to Matthew 1:22–23 is extensive,25 but three basic views emerge. (1) Some suggest that the original sign was intended solely for the historical circumstances of Ahaz and Judah, but Matthew takes it typologically to refer to Jesus.26 In this view, Isaiah had in mind a young woman who was a virgin at the time but who would later become married and have a child she would name Immanuel. Isaiah may have been referring to the royal son Hezekiah, born heir to the throne of King Ahaz, or Maher-Shalal-Hash-Baz (cf. Isa. 8:4, 8), or some anonymous child named Immanuel born to a woman Ahaz knew. When this child was born and named Immanuel, Ahaz would know that Isaiah’s prophecies were correct and that deliverance was near. In this view, Matthew’s use of the text goes beyond the original intentions of the prophecy.
(2) Others suggest that there was no real fulfillment in the birth of any child at the time of Ahaz but that it was intended as a messianic prophecy that was only fulfilled in the birth of Jesus. The term ʿalmah must be taken as referring to a “virgin,” which means that the prophecy was not fulfilled by a miraculous birth at the time of Isaiah but could only point ahead to the fulfillment in the conception and birth of Jesus.27
(3) The most satisfactory interpretation takes the best of these views and recognizes that God was giving through Isaiah a sign that had historical significance and fulfillment in the days of Ahaz, but that God was also giving through Isaiah a prophecy of a future messianic deliverer that was fulfilled in the conception and birth of Jesus.28 The Jewish translators of the LXX, hundreds of years before Christ’s birth, seem to indicate by the use of parthenos that something deeper was meant by the prophet than was completely fulfilled in the events of Isaiah’s day. And later Jewish scribes saw a deeper meaning in the context when they interpreted Immanuel, meaning “God with us,” to be a promise of the golden age (cf. Isa. 2:2–4; 9:2–7; 11:1–16) when the messianic son of David would bring judgment on the wicked and blessing on the righteous. This was to be the ultimate time of God’s presence manifested in Israel.
Isaiah prophesied that a woman who was a virgin at the time of Ahaz (734 B.C.) would bear a son named Immanuel. Since neither the queen nor Isaiah’s wife was a virgin, this was most likely some unmarried young woman within the royal house with whom Ahaz was familiar. The woman would marry, conceive a child, and, when he was born, give him the name Immanuel, perhaps as a symbolic hope of God’s presence in the dark times of national difficulty. Before the child was old enough to know the difference between right and wrong, Judah would be delivered from the threat of invasion from the two northern kings (Isa. 7:14–17). The northern alliance was broken in 732 B.C., when Tiglath-Pileser III of Assyria destroyed Damascus, conquered Aram, and put Rezin to death.
All this happened within the time frame miraculously predicted as the sign to Ahaz. Thus, there was immediate fulfillment of a miraculous prediction. While no record is given of Ahaz’s reaction as he saw the unfolding of these predicted events, he would have been rebuked for his lack of faith and his manipulative attempts to achieve the security of Judah and the line of David through his pro-Assyrian policy.
Matthew looks back to the Old Testament and declares that the birth of the child Jesus, who would save his people from their sins, ultimately fulfills the prophecy of Isaiah 7:14. The sign given to Ahaz and the house of Judah (“you” in Isa. 7:14 is plural) was God’s miraculous prediction of military salvation from the attack of Pekah and Rezin, but it was also a prediction of a future messianic figure who would provide spiritual salvation from sin. Isaiah’s sign, in other words, demonstrates both that Immanuel’s birth will signal deliverance from invasion for Ahaz and the house of David and that there would be a future messianic deliverer named Immanuel, truly God with us.
This interpretation takes seriously both the immediate context of the prediction to Ahaz in 7:14 and the broader context of Isaiah’s prophecy, in which a future messianic age would honor “Galilee of the Gentiles” (Isa. 9:1–2) with a child born who would be called “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (9:6). Of this one to whom Isaiah points, only Jesus could be the true fulfillment: “Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever” (9:7).
The angel instructs Joseph to name the child “Jesus,” which is what he is called throughout his earthly life and in the early church. We have no record of Jesus ever being called “Immanuel” by his family or followers. Instead, as Matthew translates it for us, we see that the name is intended as a title to indicate Jesus’ messianic identity: “God with us.” Both his common name and his titular name indicate profound truths: Jesus specifies what he does (“God saves”), and Immanuel specifies who he is (“God with us”). These are highly charged names that speak of a profound Christological orientation by Matthew. Note how he concludes his Gospel with the same theme, where Jesus promises his disciples, “I will be with you always” (28:20). In Jesus Messiah, God is with us indeed.29
Joseph’s Immediate Obedience (1:24–25)
WHEN JOSEPH AWAKES from his sleep, he is obedient to the angel’s directive and carries out the second phase of the marital process by engaging in the formal wedding ceremony. At the conclusion of the rites, Joseph takes Mary home to live with him (and perhaps with his extended family) as a fully married couple, except that “he had no union with her until she gave birth to a son” (1:25). The delicate way Matthew phrases this expression (lit., “he was not knowing her”) was a common way of referring to abstaining from sexual intercourse in both Hebrew and Greek. Sexual abstinence during pregnancy was widely observed in Judaism of the first century.30 Abstinence maintained Joseph and Mary’s ritual purification during the pregnancy as well as ensured that Jesus was virgin-born. But this is not a hint of continued celibacy after Jesus’ birth. The word “until” most naturally means that Mary and Joseph had normal marital sexual relations after Jesus’ birth, from which other children were born (see 12:46; 13:55).31
While Luke focuses on Mary’s obedience and submission to the angelic announcement of these stupendous events (e.g., Luke 1:38), Matthew emphasizes Joseph’s likewise remarkable character. In the situation of finding his betrothed wife pregnant, he knows he is not the father. Once the angelic announcement is made, Joseph is immediately obedient, as he will be throughout the infancy account. Not only is Mary seen as a godly woman, but Joseph takes the lead in carrying out the angel’s instructions. Matthew specifies that “he [Joseph] gave him the name Jesus” (1:25). Joseph conducts himself as an obedient leader in his marriage and family and as a godly man throughout, an emphasis surely not lost on a Jewish-Christian audience.
Bridging Contexts
THE VIRGIN BIRTH. Among the Gospel writers, both Matthew and Luke not only give attention to Jesus’ genealogy, but both also give accounts of his miraculous conception and infancy. In Luke’s account, the essential features of the announcement of the conception to Mary by the angel Gabriel combine the remarkable facts of both human and divine natures. The child has a human lineage descended from Adam (Luke 3:23–38), a human name, “Jesus” (1:31), and experiences a human birth (2:6–7). But the child also has a divine relationship as “Son of God” (1:35), a divine description, “the Son of the Most High” (1:32), and experiences a miraculous conception through the Holy Spirit by a virgin mother (1:35).
Matthew’s presentation supports with equal firmness the fact of the virgin birth as announced to Joseph by the angel of the Lord. Matthew also attests to both human and divine natures in the remarkable conception of Jesus. The child has a human lineage through King David and the patriarch Abraham (1:1–17), a human name, “Jesus,” by which he identifies with “his people” (1:21), and a human birth (1:25). But the child also has a divine relationship through the Holy Spirit (1:23), a divine description, “Immanuel—which means, ‘God with us’ ” (1:22), and a divine origin through the Holy Spirit in his conception by his virgin mother (1:18, 20).
Without giving details, the angelic announcement makes clear that the mode of conception is not by any ordinary human means but by a totally unparalleled action of the Holy Spirit. Matthew does not theorize how such a conception could take place but merely presents it as historically authentic. Matthew understands that there is something both natural and supernatural about Jesus in his conception, birth, and development. He presents the virgin conception and birth of Jesus as an accepted fact, thus accounting for the astounding truth that God has taken on human nature and is now with his people. It is only this God-man who, as Matthew’s story unfolds, can save his people from their sins, which should cause them to pause in unending gratitude and to worship him as Jesus, “God saves,” and Immanuel, “God with us.”
By identifying Jesus as “God with us,” Matthew continues a theme that permeated the Old Testament concept of God with his people. When giving the law to Israel in the desert, God stressed his covenantal intent: “I will walk among you and be your God, and you will be my people” (Lev. 26:12). The nation was called to a relationship in which God was with his people. No other person or god was to take a place of preeminence and so usurp his place. Even when God called men and women to leadership roles (e.g., Moses, Joshua, the judges, prophets), they were only intermediate leaders. God alone was to have the place of preeminence.
In fact, no human king ruled over Israel, at first, in the covenantal relationship. God was their sovereign. But having an invisible sovereign was difficult for the people of Israel. Since the surrounding nations had kings whom they could see and follow, the people of Israel wanted a king too. To God this was equivalent to rejecting him as king (1 Sam. 8:7). He considered this an evil thing (12:17). He did allow a human king to rule for him, even establishing Saul and calling David’s line, but God intended to be their king himself. The promise of a coming Davidic Messiah is intertwined with the promise that God himself would be with his people (e.g., Ezek. 37:24–28).32
The significance of Matthew’s interpretation of Jesus’ name as Immanuel, therefore, cannot be overstated. God has come to be with his people to fulfill the deepest meaning of the covenant. In Jesus, God is now with his people personally as their Savior. This theme forms the heart of a personal relationship of Jesus with his followers that comes to characterize his unique form of discipleship (see comment on 4:18–22).33
Learning from other figures in the story. Can the characters other than Jesus teach us something as well? Yes, but to learn from them accurately and appropriately, we must always understand them first in relation to Jesus. If we stay focused on Jesus as the center-stage person of Matthew’s narrative, we can more accurately understand the role that other figures play in relationship to him as they come on and off the stage. But if we rush to other figures first without understanding how they play a role in relationship to Jesus’ historical ministry and Matthew’s intended story line, we may fall prey to “moralizing.” This means that we draw moral inferences of what it means “to do” or “to become” as Christians from identifying with characters in the story, but often our inferences are at the expense of the actual point and intention of the text.34
Nevertheless, ancient authors, including the biblical authors, did teach moral and ethical lessons through other lesser characters they described in their stories.35 The principal point is to understand the role of each.
Contemporary Significance
MATTHEW’S OPENING NARRATIVE is a strong reminder that the Gospels are first and foremost a story about Jesus. Jesus is always center stage. Other characters will move on and off the stage and will receive focused attention for specific purposes. But the question we must continually ask throughout every pericope of the story is: “What is this passage telling us about Jesus?” By focusing our attention on Jesus’ earthly ministry, we are much more likely to hear clearly what Matthew intended to tell us in his story about Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham (1:1). Then we can make appropriate contemporary application to our own lives.
The picture of Jesus. Two things especially stand out in this passage. (1) Matthew records in straightforward fashion the most incredible miracle of history, the conception and birth of Jesus to a virgin mother through the Holy Spirit. He does not embellish the story to try to convince his readers of the truthfulness of his account; rather, he assumes it. Apparently the miracle is so well known in the community that he only has to state it. We may not be able to understand completely the depth of the miraculous incarnation, but Matthew impels us at the very start of his story to deal with it.
(2) Jesus the Messiah came to be Savior for the sins of his people. Many within Israel were looking for physical salvation from the hardships they had suffered under various conquering forces, including the current iron fist of Rome. They hoped for a conquering son of David. However, there was a consistent thread of hope of salvation from sin at the heart of Old Testament prophetic messages. Matthew points to Jesus as the redemptive Son of David, who came to those hoping for the fulfillment of the words of the psalmist in Psalm 130:7–8:
O Israel, put your hope in the LORD,
for with the LORD is unfailing love
and with him is full redemption.
He himself will redeem Israel
from all their sins.
This is the fundamental purpose behind Jesus’ ministry. The message we proclaim must just as clearly be centered in the offer of salvation from sin.
In these two emphases we see that Matthew’s story of Jesus is unlike any other. It is a unique story of a unique person with a unique conception and a unique message and ministry.
The virgin birth. With both Matthew and Luke giving special attention to the narrative of the divine conception, we can conclude that Jesus’ virgin birth has profound significance for our Christian faith and life.
(1) To begin with, the virgin birth points to the divine nature of Jesus. Taken together with his ability to forgive sins (9:6), the confirmatory nature of his miraculous ministry (14:33), the uniqueness of his death on the cross (27:46, 54), and the marvel of the resurrection (28:9), the virgin birth points to an absolute uniqueness about Jesus Christ. His conception, ministry, and resurrection are nothing short of declarations of his divine nature, which impels us to regard his claims upon our lives as second to none.
(2) The account of the virgin birth speaks of one person in whom is united full deity and full humanity. It was through the virgin birth that God chose to send his Son to become both perfect man and God. Donald Guthrie concludes, “It cannot be said that the incarnation demands the virgin birth, for God could have accomplished it another way. But it can and must be said that the virgin birth of Jesus is entirely appropriate to the nature of the one who became flesh although He was equal with God (Phil. 2:6).”36 This supremely points to how the sacrifice of the human on the cross could atone for the sins of humanity. Jesus is enabled to carry the sins of the world to the cross only because his divine nature is infinitely capable to sustain his humanity.
(3) The virgin birth signals Jesus’ true humanity without inherited sin. Through the powerful work of the Holy Spirit overshadowing Mary in the conception of Jesus, the unbroken line of the descent of sin was interrupted, so that Jesus was born holy (cf. Luke 1:35).37 As a true human, Jesus can empathize deeply with our human experiences and temptations (Heb. 4:15–16) and can provide an example of how to overcome temptation (see comments on Matt. 4:1–11). The sinlessness of Jesus throughout his life is centered in the fact that his divine nature is so powerful in its determination to do good that it cannot be overcome by any temptation to his human nature. Thus, he is enabled to be the unique, human, sinless sacrifice for our sin.
(4) The virgin birth of Jesus denotes the beginning stage of the redemption of humanity that had been created in the image of God but had been distorted by the effects of sin. The process of redemption will involve our becoming alive through the sacrifice he will provide for our sin (2 Cor. 5:17–21), but then it will also involve patterning our lives after Jesus (2 Cor. 3:18; 1 Peter 2:21). Jesus is the full image of God (Col. 1:15–20); he is the one person whose humanity was never spoiled by sin (Heb. 4:15). Since the outworking of the image of God is seen most fully in Jesus, the Christian life means to pattern ourselves after him.
Therefore, Matthew’s record of the virgin conception and birth narrates a unique, miraculous event by which Jesus, the sinless Savior, came into the world to save his people from their sins. This is the beginning of the primary story line of this Gospel. Yet the narrative of the virgin birth is also the beginning stage by which the Immanuel, God with us, becomes the pattern for the kind of transforming life that he will produce in all who believe in him (Rom. 8:29).
As Matthew’s Gospel unfolds, watch for some of the following ways that Jesus sets a perfect example for the kind of life that will be produced in us as we follow him as his disciples.
• Jesus had perfect fellowship with the Father (11:25–30; cf. John 17).
• Jesus obeyed the Father’s will perfectly (26:42; cf. John 4:34; 5:30; 6:38).
• Jesus always displayed a strong love for humans, regardless how much they were lost, sick, sorrowing, or sinful (9:36; 10:6; cf. Mark 1:41; Luke 7:13).
• Jesus’ love was demonstrated by freely giving up his life for us (20:28; cf. John 15:13).
In a holistic way, Jesus’ process of development in his human life becomes a complete example of the way in which we can focus our development as persons redeemed by him and transformed by his Spirit. This is the earliest indication of what it will mean to be Jesus’ disciples. Jesus’ early years are an example of the way in which all of us can now develop as whole persons, including all aspects of human growth (see Luke 2:52). He experienced human development as we do, yet perfectly, so that we have the perfect example of what it means for us to be fully human.
We will discuss this more fully as Matthew’s story goes along, but as foreign as this may seem to us at first, discipleship means living a fully human life in this world in union with Jesus Christ and growing in conformity to his image.38
Learning from Joseph. Joseph is an important person in Matthew 1, as are the angel of the Lord, the Holy Spirit, and Mary. Nonetheless, the central message of this narrative is not about Joseph or any other figure but about Jesus, even though he appears only in the final verse (1:25). The entire narrative concerns Jesus: who he is, how he came into history, and what his role and identity will be. Each of the other figures have much to teach us, but to learn from them accurately and appropriately we must keep the message about Jesus central (see comments in Bridging Contexts).
When compared to Luke’s Gospel, which emphasizes the role of Mary throughout his infancy narrative (cf. Luke 1:26–56; 2:19, 34–35), Matthew gives special attention to Joseph. We may see from this that Matthew has given awareness to Joseph to accentuate aspects of his role that have significance for our own lives.39
(1) In the first place, Joseph is an example for us in the way he establishes his priorities. His purpose for his life and relationships stays focused on maintaining his righteous standing before the Lord by his obedience to the law. His commitment to righteousness is striking, because it is displayed in his sexual restraint and his abhorrence of what he considers infidelity. This is especially important to emphasize when we remember that Joseph is most likely a relatively young man, perhaps in his late teens. Young men are notorious for their struggle with sexual purity. As a young man still in the passions of his youth, Joseph provides us an example of a godly young man who attempts to establish the values of God’s will for his life. This is a realistic kind of picture that we may want to emphasize to our own young people in order that they may identify more closely with Joseph’s commitment to righteousness.
(2) Joseph’s obedience to the law is not legalistic. He is concerned not only about his own obedience to the law but also about showing compassion for Mary and having regard for her well-being. He does not abandon his faithfulness to the law in order to care for Mary, nor does he abandon Mary when her condition presents him with a dilemma about his own righteousness. Rather, he attempts to balance his obedience with compassion. Jesus will condemn time and again the scribes and Pharisees for their nitpicking legalism that overrules compassion and mercy (e.g., 9:10–13)—a sad commentary on some of the religious leadership of his day. However, Matthew demonstrates to us in Joseph’s balanced example that the people of Israel at that time did not wholesale adopt a rigid legalism of do’s and don’ts.
Joseph is in the line of other Old Testament figures whose pursuit of righteousness was guided by the values and goals of the law, which included compassion and mercy, as an expression of God’s will. In the broadest sense, a righteous person is one whose life is bounded by the reality of God, meaning both purity of life and compassion of heart. Joseph, not of the religious elite, exemplifies the pursuit of that daily reality. In our own day we can point to many examples of men and women whose lives exemplify that balanced pursuit of righteousness. Those who come to mind are often well-known Christian leaders who have dedicated their lives to being an example for their flocks. But the ones who often impress me the most are laymen and laywomen whose lives and hearts are made pure in the obscurity of everyday life—homemakers, police officers, business leaders, nurses, teachers, and so on. Young Joseph is one of them.
(3) Joseph’s obedience to the message of the angel of the Lord overrules his own suspicions of Mary’s faithlessness as well as fear for the ruin of his own reputation and honor. Joseph’s emotional state at the time the angel appears to him must have been intensely conflicted. But this special revelation of God, at this paramount crossroad of history, gives him the guidance and stability that enables him to help carry out God’s program of salvation, even when he will become subject to ridicule and false accusations of moral failure.
We may never experience such a dramatic appearance from God, but each of us will encounter unexpected circumstances and risks as we attempt to carry out God’s will for our lives. A young man engaged to be married recently told me that Joseph’s obedience in these circumstances had profoundly impacted him. He had been struggling with trusting his fiancée, because in an earlier relationship a young lady he had loved had been unfaithful to him. He didn’t know how he could ever really trust a woman again. His fear had begun to paralyze him in his relationship with his fiancée—fear of being hurt again and of being ridiculed for having an unfaithful wife. But he told me that he learned from this incident two important lessons. First, “trust” is not 100 percent knowledge; rather, it means to believe what he has seen and heard in his fiancée’s life, and then on the basis of what he knows as best as he can to be true, believe her. That was scary for him, because he could be made a fool again. But the second thing he learned was that once he came to the point where he believed her, he then had to put their relationship in God’s hands and believe in God to keep them both faithful to the relationship. So his real trust is in God. I think that he has learned a key lesson about a Christian marriage, which is founded on mutual trust but energized and maintained by the power of God.
The role of the Holy Spirit. The explicit nature of the role of the Holy Spirit in this passage enables us to begin to see the unfolding revelation of God throughout the Scripture. In the Old Testament, Yahweh is revealed as the one true God in distinction from the many gods of the people around Israel (Deut. 6:4, 14). In the stage of history depicted in the Gospels, as we have already noted, Jesus, God the Son, is the central figure, sustaining an intimate relationship to God the Father (cf. 3:17; 17:5). But as will become increasingly clear, when the earthly ministry of Jesus is accomplished with the cross and resurrection, God the Holy Spirit takes over a primary role on the stage of history. This activity of the Spirit is more explicit in the expansion of the church in the book of Acts and in the teaching of later New Testament authors, but we begin to see it come into play with the conception and birth of Jesus Messiah.
Today we live in that third stage of human history. Once Jesus ascended to heaven, he sent the Holy Spirit to provide the power, the guidance, the comfort, and the presence of God for carrying out the work of building the church, fulfilling the Great Commission, and transforming Jesus’ disciples into the image of Christ.
That is what I emphasized to the engaged young man I mentioned earlier. He and his future wife have the privilege to be indwelt by the Holy Spirit of God, who will make their own marriage rise to the level that God has designed for it. Suspicion, self-protection, taking and not giving, bitterness, and anger—these are all too often cancers that can eat away at a marriage, as they could have in the relationship of young Joseph and Mary. But in this age, marriage, like any relationship among believers, can be transformed by the power of the Spirit.
The apostle Paul speaks of the transformation of relationships touched by the Holy Spirit. He encourages young pastor Titus to remind the churches “to be obedient, to be ready to do whatever is good, to slander no one, to be peaceable and considerate, and to show true humility toward all men” (Titus 3:1–2). Because relationships weren’t always that way, Paul continues, practically as his own confession, “At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another” (Titus 3:3). I have had the unfortunate experience of seeing many marriages and other relationships typified by those descriptions. But then Paul gives one of the most glowing testimonies of the way that relationships can be transformed through the work of the Spirit:
But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior. (Titus 3:4–6)
What a privilege and responsibility we now have to live at this stage of history. In their obedience to the work of the Spirit, young Joseph and Mary, at the very beginning of this age, give us a precursor of how godly relationships can be pure and characterized by serving one another. Today, that is the real basis on which we can pursue a godly marriage and family and, indeed, see the transformation of any of our relationships, both within and outside of the church, through the transforming work of God’s Spirit.