Christmas - Year A
Sermon Notes from the Church’s Ministry Among Jewish People
RCL Readings – Isaiah 63:7-9; Psalm 148; Hebrews 2:10-18; Matthew 2:13-23
ACNA Readings – Isaiah 61:10-62:5; Psalm 147:12-20; Galatians 3:23-4:7; John 1:1-18
Seasonal Introduction. Christmas is the greatest Jewish story ever told. It is about the God who created the universe and breathed life into man’s nostrils, humbled Himself to dwell among the people He created. God then provided a way that we can dwell with Him. As such, Christmas is not a day, it is a season that incorporates many parts of life. The Christmas season lasts twelve days beginning on 25th December and ends with the Epiphany Eve on January 5th. The Christmas season includes celebrating or remembering: the first coming of the Messiah and the life He chose to live among men; the evil of mankind in the death of the innocents of Bethlehem; and the circumcision of Jesus—for God is a keeper of covenants and will never abandon His promises.
Common Theme. The vast difference between an eternal God and mortal mankind should be clear. And yet, God continuously desires to dwell among His people—He wants to be a father to them. God also doesn’t watch His people suffer as if from a great distance—either physical or mental. God suffers as His people suffer. In the incarnation, this is seen in the physical suffering that Jesus went through from His birth until His death.
Hebraic Context. There are several major eschatological characters in the Hebrew Scriptures for whom Israel waited: The prophet, like Moses, through whom God would speak; the ruling king, who would rule on David’s throne; and the Messiah. A brief reading into the gospels makes it clear that the prophet, king, and Messiah were, in fact, not three separate people but one—Jesus, the Messiah. However, the Tanakh never declares that the three roles are all to be found in the same person. So where did this understanding come from?
4Q252, a commentary on Genesis from the Dead Sea community, already combined the idea of the king and the Messiah in relation to Genesis 49:10, “A sovereign shall [not] be removed from the tribe of Judah... There will [not] lack someone who sits on the throne of David… Until the messiah of justice comes, the branch of David.”[1] Although, many kings were also messiahs (without being the hoped-for Messiah) such as: Saul, David, Jehu, and even Cyrus.
Nonetheless, the King, as spoken of in II Samuel 7:12-16 will reign forever. This separates him from all other kings who reigned for only a brief time—even David who, as Paul states in Acts 13:35-37, died and was placed in a grave with his fathers. Matthew makes it clear that scholars already recognized that the Messiah and King were the same. King Herod, upon being asked “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews?” immediately went to the chief priests and scribes to ask where the Messiah was to be born.
Their reply returned not to one of the many passages about the Messiah but to Micah 5:2-5a, a passage about the King. However, they followed neither the Hebrew nor the Greek translation of Micah 5. “And you, O Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.” They seem to use a popular method of quotation in Hebraic thought, combining multiple Scriptures through the common word in the two passages. The ruler and shepherd are connected in several promises and prophecies in Scripture and can be connected to the messiah, such as Jeremiah 23:4-5 and Ezekiel 37:24.
Another word in Micah 5:2, מִקֶּדֶם (mikedem), describing this ruler’s origin as being "from antiquity" or "from ancient times" was also connected to a theological argument that was developing in the 1st century. This ruler’s origin was not solely tied to Bethlehem. The Talmud records the final Jewish iteration of the argument. According to the Talmud, seven things were created before the world: the Torah, repentance, the Garden of Eden (Paradise), Gehinnom, the Throne of Glory, the Temple, and the name of the Messiah.[2] The rabbis derived the pre-existence of the Messiah from the use of mikedem in Micah 5:2 interpreting it as evidence that the Messiah was part of God’s eternal plan—existing before creation itself. This understanding affirms the messianic nature of the ruler, or king, in this context, distinguishing it from a mere political ruler.
A king who would reign eternally would not only be a threat to King Herod, who was perpetually paranoid, this king would also be an affront to Herod’s megalomania. King Herod worked hard to make his name last in the history books, building grand monuments—such as the Temple and his eventual burial site, the Herodian. And, at his death, Josephus states that King Herod contrived to kill the principal men of the Jewish nation in order that the land would be in great mourning during his funeral rather than being welcomed cheerfully by all men. King Herod’s desire to kill Jesus as an infant was not out of character for him, but the Messiah is also beloved of God and would not suffer death until the time of His own choosing.
Matthew’s reference to Jesus as a Nazarene also seems to refer to His role as the King. Both Jeremiah 23:5-6 and Isaiah 11:1-5 connect the righteous branch (נצר, netzar) to the line of David and the king who would judge with justice and righteousness.
Interestingly, Psalm 84 also connects God as king to the temple and the altar. While Jesus could not be a Levitical priest, being born as a man from the tribe of Judah, the author of Hebrews does end up connecting Jesus to the priesthood—just in the line of Melchizedek.
Isaiah 63:7-9. In the midst of rebellion, anger, and destruction, Isaiah speaks of God’s love and mercy. God had saved Israel from their affliction in Egypt. It is to the house of Israel that God’s goodness is shown. The Torah continuously speaks of a relationship between God and Israel—including that of Father and son.[3] It is God Himself who speaks of Israel as “my people” and “children.”
In the last words of Moses, he states: “The Rock, His work is perfect, for all His ways are justice. A God of faithfulness and without iniquity, just and upright is He. They have dealt corruptly with Him; they are no longer His children because they are blemished; they are a crooked and twisted generation.”[4] He then repeats that He is their father who created them.
They turned to foreign gods, to demons that are not God—with abomination and rebellion against God comes jealousy, anger, and disaster.[5] And so it was in the day of Isaiah (as they had provoked God so often from the time of the Exodus). But where Deuteronomy speaks of God’s rebuke as He turned His face away, Isaiah declares, “Surely, they are my people, children who will not deal falsely.”
While Abraham was not blameless nor were his descendants, the children of Israel, obedient in all God’s commandments, God would still be their savior.[6] God’s punishment was devastating for the people of Israel, as well as all the nations that rebel, but God Himself was afflicted as they were afflicted.
Isaiah 63:9 writes of the angel of His presence saving Israel directly after stating that God would be their savior. Every year, during Passover, during the retelling of the story of God’s redemption of Israel from Egypt there is a proclamation: “I will pass through Egypt on this night. I and not an angel. I will strike down the firstborn in the land of Egypt. I and not a seraph. Against all the gods of Egypt I will render judgments. I and not a messenger.” This is a reminder that it wasn’t angels that saved Israel but God Himself. The Septuagint already translated Isaiah 63:9 as, “not an ambassador, nor an angel, but He Himself saved them, because He loved them and was merciful towards them: He Himself redeemed them.”
Isaiah 63:10-14 continues by writing of both rebellion and redemption. When Israel rebelled it was God who fought against them.[7] But he continues by asking the rhetorical question, who saved them? The answer is that it is “the Spirit of the LORD.” The Aramaic translation states that it is the “Word of the LORD”.[8]
Psalm 148.[9] Psalm 148 is a call for all of creation to praise God and is one of several psalms that both begin and end with the word ‘Hallelujah’. The author of the psalm remains unknown,[10] but what is known is the author’s desire that we worship the Lord. The word “Hallelujah” is an imperative to praise God; essentially, it is a command. Initially, the heavens—comprising not only the angelic host but also heavenly bodies like the sun and moon—are called upon to praise God.
Humans and Angels aren’t the only things that bless or praise God. (Nor are we the only things that receive blessing from God.) Psalm 19:1-4 states, “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard. Their voice goes through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world,...” All that is in heaven is commanded to praise God.
All that is on earth should equally praise God. From Psalm 148:7, the earth and all its inhabitants—sentient and non-sentient, beasts and people—are also commanded to praise God. There are terrifying things in this world like the great sea creatures and the deeps. And yet the ocean depths are specifically mentioned as partaking in the call to praise. In the ancient world, the sea was considered an unknown realm of chaos—unpredictable and dangerous, with no one understanding what lay underneath the surface. All that man has no control of, from the oceans to the great storms are to praise God. The psalmist requires even the realm of chaos to contribute in the adoration of God. The Lord is not a local deity; He is the God of all creation—God is the first cause and author or all, whether in heaven or on earth.
Surely we who have speech should declare the same, praising the name of the LORD. Kings, princes, judges, young and old, male and female are all prompted to worship the Lord, highlighting the universal aspect of the psalm. And, while all things are commanded to praise the God of all creation, God acts on behalf of His people. On the one hand, we aren’t all that special. In fact, so many things declare praise to God while we reject Him. On the other hand, He is the praise of all saints and has done wondrous things for us. Deuteronomy 10:21 states, “He is your praise. He is your God, who has done for you these great and terrifying things that your eyes have seen.” So let us join with all creation and praise the LORD.
Hebrews 2:10-18. While the Psalms, Isaiah, and other passages were written long before Jesus, the author of Hebrews makes constant use of the Hebrew Scriptures (particularly the Psalms and Isaiah) to speak of Jesus. Hebrews 2:5-9 speaks of Jesus’ authority in the World-To-Come, but also of His incarnation, death, and glorification in this present age.
Hebrews 2:10 begins by reminding us that Jesus is the Creator. And yet, in His incarnation, Jesus suffered as a man—a son of man: “for a little while lower than the angels.” Deuteronomy states that the prophet who would be like Moses had to be a son of Abraham, one from among Israel “I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their brothers.”[11] Jesus came to help the offspring of Abraham and He did so as an offspring of Abraham—as flesh and blood.
The grace of God not only extends to those He created, but to those who so often rebelled against Him and to those who trust in Him. Adam was the first man and chose disobedience and supposed wisdom over trust in God and obedience. And yet God came to walk with him in the garden.[12] When all the world rebelled, doing what was right in their own eyes, Noah alone walked with God and was saved.[13] Finally, where God walked with Adam and Noah walked with God, the Jewish sages noted that Abraham was commanded to walk before God[14]—God would use the descendants of Abraham to be a sign and blessing to the nations.[15] God decided to work with and through mankind.
Despite God calling for Abraham to be blameless and Israel to hold fast to the LORD their God and keep His commands, they were part of the same fallen, sinful world as we are—under the slavery of sin, death, and the devil (until God’s great deliverance). And so they had to turn to God and, in turn, God would continue to dwell among them. Irenaeus, in Against Heresies 4.20.5, says “For the glory of God is a living man; and the life of man consists in beholding God.”
When they did repent, they would often bring an offering—not to atone for their own sins, sacrifices could only atone for unintentional sins—and the priest would make atonement for them (even then, Leviticus 5-6 and Numbers 15:22-26 state it is for unintentional sin). Nonetheless, when they returned to God in repentance, God would draw near to them. Jesus became the high priest that could make propitiation for the sins of the people.
Jesus is certainly merciful, but that would not be enough. As Paul stated, “being born in the likeness of men… He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” Having faced all things as we have, partaking in life as flesh and blood, Jesus—by Whom all things exist—remained faithful through death and remains faithful with the power to conquer death and help those who are tempted.
Matthew 2:13-23. While the shepherds (spoken of in Luke) were able to visit Jesus on the day of His birth, the Magi had a much greater distance to travel in order to visit Jesus. By the time the Magi arrived in Jerusalem, Jesus had almost certainly already been brought to the Temple, circumcised, and named.[16] Joseph and Mary continued to live in Bethlehem after Jesus’ birth and it is very likely that they had family in Bethlehem at the time of Jesus’ birth and early life.[17] But their time in Bethlehem would be cut short in a very Biblical and Jewish way—a wicked king would rise and try to stop God’s promise of blessing by destroying the children of Israel.
Herod had already killed many Hasmoneans to secure his throne from any perceived threat, most notably: his brother-in-law, grandfather-in-law, wife, and mother-in-law. He also executed three of his own children who he considered to be threats. While King Herod was Idumean, when informed that there was a new king of the Jews, he knew enough about Jewish customs and the threat to his kingship to ask about the promised Messiah.
Luke constantly speaks of Joseph, Mary, and Jesus acting in accordance with the Law of Moses, the Law of the Lord, and the Custom of the Law. Matthew specifically focuses on the obedience of Joseph during Jesus’ early life. It was Joseph’s immediate obedience to God that is credited as saving their family from death at the hands of King Herod.[18] Jesus was taken to Egypt, returning to a spot where another wicked king had tried to destroy all the male children of Israel when he felt threatened.[19]
Before God brought the plagues on Egypt, Exodus 2:23 states that the people of Israel groaned and cried out to God and God heard their groaning. Herod was unable to stop God’s many promises concerning the Messiah—Jesus. But he still executed whichever sons could be found in Bethlehem that were under two years old and the people wept and cried out.
Herod died an ignoble death, in great pain and with his final wish that many of the Jewish elders be slain at the time of his death.[20] His surviving sons were no less wicked (although much less competent). Joseph remained obedient after returning from Egypt, moving to Nazareth when warned in a dream about Herod’s son.
Nazareth was of particular interest to Matthew as, in Isaiah 9-10, a motif of a rod and staff (מטה mateh and שבט shavet) speak of judgment.[21] But Isaiah switched to two rare parallel words in Isaiah 11 when speaking of the coming King-Messiah: a shoot and a branch (חטר hoter and נצר netzer).[22] It is from branch, נצר, that Matthew 2 states, “He went and lived in a city called Nazareth (נצרת, Natzrat), so that what was spoken by the prophets might be fulfilled, that He would be called a Nazarene.”[23]
ACNA Readings
Hebraic Context. The Torah begins with a declaration of God's sovereignty over both the spiritual and physical realms: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 1:1). This verse encapsulates the holistic nature of reality in Hebraic thought. Humanity, created in God’s image, is both spiritual and physical—a unity that reflects God’s design.[24]
Genesis 2:7 describes God forming humanity from the dust of the ground and breathing into it the "breath of life" (נִשְׁמַת חַיִּים, nishmat chayim). This union of earthly material and divine breath creates the נֶפֶשׁ (nefesh), which more accurately refers to the whole person—body, spirit, and life-force. Importantly, the physical world is not secondary or inferior; it is declared “very good” (Genesis 1:31). This affirmation establishes the sanctity of the material as integral to God’s purposes, predating the fall and the entry of sin into the world.
Throughout Scripture, God’s redemptive work addresses both spiritual estrangement and physical brokenness. The liberation of Israel from Egypt is both a physical deliverance from slavery and a spiritual reorientation to draw near to God. The giving of the Torah at Sinai transforms Israel into a covenant people, integrating their worship and daily lives. Following the covenant at Mt. Sinai, God’s presence dwells tangibly among His people through the Mishkan (Tabernacle) and later the Temple. These spaces symbolize the union of heaven and earth, where physical holiness facilitates God’s holy presence in the community.
In contrast to the Hebraic worldview, Hellenistic dualism, deeply rooted in Greek philosophical traditions (particularly those of Plato), sees reality as sharply divided into the spiritual and physical realms. In this view, the spiritual is regarded as pure, eternal, and perfect, while the physical is corrupt, temporary, and inherently inferior. The ultimate goal is to escape the constraints of the physical body and ascend to a purely spiritual existence. The mind or soul is elevated as the true essence of a person, while the body is seen as a prison that limits and distorts.
Plato’s famous Allegory of the Cave encapsulates this perspective, portraying the physical world as a dim, shadowy reflection of the ideal realm. Similarly, Stoicism and Neoplatonism emphasize transcending physical passions and aligning with higher, spiritual principles. These ideas profoundly influenced early Christian theology, particularly leading to interpretations that prioritized the salvation of the soul over the body. Popular slogans like, “This is not my world, I’m just passing through,” reflect this lingering tension between the physical and spiritual.
Gnosticism, an esoteric movement that arose in the first few centuries CE, draws on Hellenistic dualism but extends its ideas with a radical cosmology and emphasis on mystical salvation. Gnosticism envisions a cosmic struggle between the spiritual realm, ruled by the supreme unknowable God, and the physical realm, which it sees as the flawed creation of an inferior or malevolent demiurge.[25] This sharp division casts the material world as inherently evil, with human bodies seen as traps for divine sparks of light—fragments of the spiritual realm that have fallen into the corrupted material order.
Salvation in Gnosticism comes through gnosis (secret knowledge), which reveals the divine origin of the soul and provides the means to escape the physical world. This perspective often leads to hostility toward the Creator depicted in the Hebrew Bible, who is identified with the demiurge responsible for the material realm. As a result, Gnostics struggled with central Christian doctrines such as the Incarnation—rejecting the idea of God taking on flesh in Jesus as incompatible with their view of the material as inherently evil. Similarly, they denied the bodily resurrection, focusing instead on a purely spiritual liberation.
The ultimate example of the integration of body, spirit, and life-force that God made is found in Jesus, the Word made flesh—although He also integrated the divine in the incarnation. While it may sound strange to say today, the Incarnation is a reflection of the pre-Hellenized Jewish worldview as taught in the Scriptures—the spiritual and physical are deeply intertwined. This perspective challenges dualistic thinking and invites us into a fuller understanding of how God works through all dimensions of existence to bring about His purposes.
Not only does God care about us spiritually, He cares about us physically. Whether it is walking with God in the garden, or having the Temple facilitate His presence on Earth, the material realm is a place where we encounter God. In turn, we should care about God not only spiritually but also physically. This perspective extends to worship, including our physical worship. Tangible practices—sacrifices, festivals, and ethical living—are integral expressions of spiritual devotion, involving the whole person: heart, mind, and body. In Deuteronomy 6:5, the command to love God with all one’s heart (lev), soul (nefesh), and strength (me’od) further underscores that transformation leaves no aspect of life untouched.
Isaiah 61:10-62:5. This passage cannot be understood distinct from the preceding declaration of the “year of the Lord’s favor.” The context of this phrase is the future redemptive activity of the Lord, carried out through one anointed by the Spirit of God. Additionally, the prophecy of Isaiah 61 contains the Hebraic tension of God’s justice alongside renewed blessing and restoration.
Isaiah 61:8-9 speaks of the justice and recompense of the LORD. The Hebrew word here is mishpat מִשְׁפָּט which, indeed, means justice. We might have an understanding of what justice means to us—the righting of wrongs, punishment of wrongdoing. and perhaps even vengeance. In Deuteronomy 32:4 Moses declares that all God’s ways are justice. Many translations render the word mishpat מִשְׁפָּט as ‘just’ so that it reads better in English, “all your way are just”. However, the actual word is justice. Moses is clearly proclaiming that everything that the Lord does is in some way, even if unknown at the time, a form of justice. His blessings, rewards, chastisements, punishments are all part of the actions of God in enacting justice—blessings in that God attaches the idea of everlasting covenant (with the knowledge of God spreading among the nations through the blessings given to Israel) with His recompense.
The comfort and restoration that the Lord will bring is described poetically as the transformation from beauty to ashes and joy in place of mourning. For many cultures in antiquity, mourning was symbolized with placing ashes on the head. Instead of ashes to embody mourning and sadness there will be a crown that reflects beauty and joy.
Isaiah’s imagery of the beautiful headdress (פאר, pe’er) further illustrates the theme of restoration. This word, used sparingly in the Hebrew Scriptures, often connects beauty with holiness. The word is largely defined in Exodus 39:28 (echoed in Ezekiel 44:18). The priests were to wear a (פארי המגבעת) headdress turban.[26] On the turban of the high priest was the declaration Holy to the LORD. However, in Ezekiel 24 the headdress is closely related to mourning—it seems like there was a custom to not wear the beautiful headdress when weeping and mourning. Yet, as we see from the Isaiah passage, the mourning that Israel goes through would be transformed from the sadness of a widow into the joy of a bride; from a priest who cannot wear the turban that declares his status before God into someone who can show the salvation of God.
Salvation without transformation is not the salvation of God. As such, salvation is paired with righteousness in classic Hebraic parallelism.[27] First it is paired with the righteousness of God, understood as the redemptive, saving activity of God. God transforms Zion from a desolation to a delight of the LORD. However, the scope of God’s salvation is universal, “so the Lord GOD will cause righteousness and praise to sprout up before all the nations.” This vision of universal redemption reveals God’s mercy and generosity in bringing His redemptive work to all peoples.
Likewise, salvation is also paired with the righteousness of Zion. The transformative, saving power of God will shine from those who were once desolate. His salvation and His righteousness will cause righteousness to come up from Zion. God’s salvation, though it comes through the Jewish people, is not limited to them. Isaiah says, “I will not keep silent”. In the same vein and with the same passion we too must rejoice in the LORD, for we who were once God’s enemies have seen the righteousness of God.
Psalm 147:12-20. Psalm 147 was likely composed in the post-exilic period and reflects the restoration of Israel under Nehemiah. The Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures, treats Psalm 147 as two separate psalms, with verse 12 marking the beginning of the second psalm.[28] This division, along with the additional superscription, “of Haggai and Zechariah,” ties it to the prophetic era of rebuilding Jerusalem. Understanding this historical context highlights the psalm’s message: even amid adversity and struggle, joy arises from God’s sovereignty and faithfulness.
Both Psalm 147:1 and Psalm 147:12 begin with the imperative, “Praise the LORD!”[29] Both also provide many reasons to worship God. Psalm 147:1-11 celebrates God’s care for creation and His sovereign power over nature. God’s care and love is not only for humanity but for all creation.[30] This care of nature, and power over it, reminds us that humanity is not the sole focus of God’s attention, even though we are made in His image and beloved by Him. When the Lord casts His eyes towards mankind it is the humble of heart that takes His attention. The wicked, those with pride instead of humility, are driven into the ground.
The interplay between humility and pride is a recurring biblical theme. Proverbs declares, “The LORD detests all the proud of heart,”[31] and both Hannah’s and Mary’s prayers celebrate God’s lifting of the humble. In Psalm 147, the psalmist affirms that God’s favor rests on those who fear Him, rather than on human strength or achievements. Moses, described as “very meek, more than all people who were on the face of the earth,”[32] was allowed to speak face to face with God, something the Scriptures attributes to no one else. This humility, as the psalmist suggests, is key to drawing near to God.[33]
Now, in Psalm 147:12, Haggai and Zechariah once again give the imperative, “Praise the LORD!” But this imperative is for Jerusalem, Zion, to praise God. God’s power over creation and protection of His people are connected in Psalm 147:18-20. The words spoken to create the world are still used to order nature today. And those same words were used to speak to Israel. For the returning exiles, the words of God—the statutes represented God’s ongoing presence and guidance—were a source of hope and joy as they rebuilt their community. In this, Psalm 147 reflects an enduring truth: God is both the Creator and Sustainer of all things, sovereign over the universe yet deeply involved in the lives of His people.
Galatians 3:23-4:7. Paul had a very deep understanding of Hebraic thought and understandings of the Scriptures and commonly used them to build up his argument. The Torah, law, is never regarded as a bad thing in Scripture. The Hebraic belief that the Torah gives life is so strong, based on Leviticus 18:5 “You shall therefore keep my statutes and my rules; if a person does them, he shall live by them: I am the LORD” that if obedience of a law would directly and clearly lead to death—such as in the case of lying to save someone’s life during the holocaust or working in a hospital on Shabbat—then that law could be temporarily suspended in that particular case as God gave the Torah to provide life and not death. Psalm 119 is a beautiful ode to the Torah of God, “Blessed are those whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the LORD… Oh how I love your law! It is my meditation all the day”. And Jesus even declared that he came to fulfill, or carry out, the law in Matthew 5:17. But there is something greater than the law—the lawgiver.
This leads to Paul’s central point: through Christ, God transforms our relationship with the law. The law, though good and life-giving, was never meant to be the ultimate source of redemption. Instead, it serves as a guide and a tutor, preparing humanity for the coming of the Messiah. In Galatians 4:1–7, Paul uses a metaphor familiar to his audience: adoption in Roman law. In Roman law, adoption was a transformative process that secured the status of an heir within a family. This could be done for non-biological children or adults.[34] Once this adoption was made, it was binding. Obviously, there are very real differences between Jew and Greek, as there are very real differences between male and female, but through the Messiah, our status as an heir could be secured in equal measures. Paul uses this concept to illustrate the spiritual transformation believers undergo. Obviously, there are very real differences between Jew and Greek, as there are very real differences between male and female, but through the Messiah our status as heirs is equal before God.
In this context, Paul makes a striking statement, “When the fullness of time had come, God sent forth His Son.” Jesus was sent into human history to redeem those who were under the law. Paul emphasizes the incarnation and the perfect timing of God’s plan. While much attention is often placed on Jesus’ death and resurrection, Paul highlights the incarnation as the foundation of redemption. Paul’s argument is that God’s ultimate purpose is not only to demonstrate His power over life and death but to dwell among His people. Without the incarnation—God taking on human flesh—there could be no death, no resurrection, and no redemption.
But Jesus was also sent at a specific time in history. When did the fullness of time come? The idea that this "fullness of time" was due to Roman infrastructure, such as roads or a period of peace, is misleading. The Roman Empire was far from peaceful, often at war and notoriously persecuting and enslaving their enemies, particularly the Jewish people. Jesus came when the Jewish people had prepared the way for the coming of the Messiah. John the Baptist preached about the kingdom of heaven and repentance and many came to the wilderness to prepare the way for the Messiah.
Millions of Jews lived in the Roman Empire, with the majority outside of the land of Israel.[35] With the spread of the Jewish people throughout the empire, issues such as the biblical understanding of judgment, morality, salvation, the messiah, and sin could be understood and take root in not only the Jewish communities but also the Gentile God-fearers who followed the Jewish faith. In this way, the world was prepared for the gospel and at this time God sent forth His Son.
John 1:10-18. The Gospel of John does not begin with the earthly birth of Jesus in Bethlehem, as Matthew and Luke do, nor does it leap into His adult ministry, as Mark does. Instead, it begins with a profound statement: “In the beginning.”[36] These words echo the opening of Genesis 1:1 in the Septuagint.[37] This connection immediately situates John's Gospel within the broader story of creation and establishes the eternal nature of the Logos.
Where Genesis 1 continues, “In the beginning, God,” John introduces the divine Logos (λόγος), declaring, “In the beginning was the Word.” This Logos is a concept deeply rooted in both Jewish and Greek thought. For the Greeks, from Heraclitus to the Stoics, Logos was the rational principle ordering the universe, often described by the Stoics as the logos spermatikos, or the seed-bearing rationality underlying creation. For the Jewish tradition, however, Logos (or מֵימְרָא, Memra, in Aramaic) carried a more dynamic and personal dimension, often identified with God Himself in the Targums, the Aramaic translations and interpretations of Hebrew Scriptures. For example, in Genesis 28:21, Memra replaces the divine name, indicating God’s active presence in the world.[38]
While many accepted the idea of the Logos as divine, John introduces an unprecedented assertion: “The Word was with God, and the Word was God.” This raises a question: How can the Logos be with God and simultaneously be God? The answer becomes clear in John 1:14-18, where the Logos is identified as Jesus Christ. While this idea may initially seem like a radical theological leap, the Hebrew Scriptures themselves anticipate such a relationship within the Godhead.
Isaiah 48:12-16 is particularly significant as a backdrop to John's introduction. In this passage, Isaiah introduces the creator of the heavens and the earth who declares, “I am the first, and I am the last.” Clearly this is God. Yet this same figure, who is “the first and the last,” is sent by the Lord GOD and His Spirit. The creator of the heavens and earth was sent by God. Just as John introduces Jesus in John 1 as the creator and also as God, Jesus concludes in Revelation 22:13, “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end”, once more connecting Himself to the creator in Isaiah 48.
John also describes Jesus as “the true light, which gives light to everyone.”[39] This motif of light and darkness originates in the Genesis creation narrative and resonates deeply with Jewish exegesis of the Second Temple period. The Dead Sea community famously divided humanity into the "sons of light" and the "sons of darkness." But God’s light shining in salvation in the face of darkness and death is also of great importance throughout Isaiah. By identifying Jesus as this true light, John aligns Jesus with God's salvific work, continually influencing the world even after His ascension.[40]
John’s statement, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us,”[41] is firmly rooted in Hebraic theology. Unlike the distant gods of pagan mythology, who resided atop mountains or in inaccessible realms, the God of Israel has always desired to dwell among His people. From walking with Adam in the Garden of Eden to commanding the construction of the Tabernacle,[42] God’s closeness with creation is a recurring theme. Notably, the Hebrew text of Exodus 25:8 indicates that God desired to dwell “within them,” emphasizing intimacy over separation, and not simply within the tent they were building.[43] Seen in this light, Jesus coming to dwell among us as the Messiah is the reaffirmation of His desire to be intimately involved in the life of His creation—a theme that continues with the sending of the Holy Spirit after the ascension.
Hebraic Perspective. Salvation, as revealed in Scripture, is not about returning to a previous state of being (however good that may have been). While Hebraic repentance is understood to be a return to communion with God, the redemption of God leads to something new and enriched.
Transformation in salvation always involves three recurring patterns in Scripture: crisis, divine intervention, and response. Transformation often begins in moments of brokenness or exile, such as Jacob wrestling with God or the Babylonian exile. God initiates change through promises, miracles, or prophetic declarations, as seen in Isaiah’s proclamation of Zion’s restoration. Finally, human response—faith, repentance, and obedience—brings about renewal. At Mount Sinai, Israel responds to God’s covenant with obedience, becoming a holy nation. In Jeremiah 31:33, God writes His law on the hearts of His people, signifying a deep internal renewal that leads to outward transformation.
Isaiah paints a vivid picture of transformation through the imagery of Zion and Jerusalem. The city, once broken and desolate, becomes adorned like a bride with righteousness and salvation. There will be no return to the Garden of Eden–where paradise was once the Garden of Eden, one day God will bring “the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.”[44] In Isaiah 62:2, God promises to give Zion a new name, signifying its transformation into the delight of the Lord.
God also renames individuals as a sign of transformation: Abram, the wandering nomad, becomes Abraham, the father of many nations even as Sarai is renamed Sarah; Jacob, the deceiver, who becomes Israel; and Simon becomes Peter.[45]
Psalm 147 expands on this theme of restoration, describing God as the rebuilder of Jerusalem who gathers exiles, heals the brokenhearted, and provides for all creation. Salvation here is tangible, bridging the spiritual and material realms. It is a reminder that God’s promises extend beyond personal redemption to encompass the restoration of cities, communities, and the physical world itself. Salvation integrates the promises of heaven with the realities of earth, demonstrating God’s commitment to renew all aspects of life.
In John 1:1–18, the transformative power of salvation is seen in the Incarnation—the Word becoming flesh. This ultimate act of God entering human experience reshapes humanity’s relationship with Him and transforms the world itself. Through Jesus, the light of salvation shines into the darkness, and humanity is offered the right to become children of God. This new identity transcends ethnic, social, and gender distinctions, as highlighted in Galatians 3:23–4:7, where Paul emphasizes that those who are baptized into Christ are clothed with Him and adopted as sons and heirs of God’s promises. Baptism, originally a ritual of purity, is redefined through Christ’s death and resurrection as a sign of transformation—from slavery to freedom, estrangement to belonging, and death to life. Transformation in the biblical sense is comprehensive, touching every aspect of life—spiritual, ethical, emotional, and physical.
This pattern of transformation is woven throughout the biblical narrative. For example, the children of Israel are transformed at Mount Sinai, where God’s presence and the giving of the Torah reshape them from a disjointed assembly of freed slaves into a covenant community—a kingdom of priests and a holy nation. Similarly, the return from exile is not merely a restoration of the past but a movement toward something new.
Salvation, therefore, is not static but dynamic, reshaping the world and humanity into a new creation filled with God’s presence and promises. The grand arc of transformation from Eden to the New Jerusalem underscores the comprehensive and holistic nature of salvation. It involves not just spiritual renewal but also physical and communal restoration.
Through God’s transformative work, individuals are given new identities, communities are rebuilt, and creation is renewed. As Isaiah declares, God is doing a new thing, making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. This vision of salvation assures us that God’s redemptive power is not limited to the past but continues to bring forth new life and hope, leading His people into something greater than they could ever imagine.
Endnotes
[1] García Martínez, Florentino. The Dead Sea Scrolls Translated: The Qumran Texts in English. Translated by Wilfred G. E. Watson, 2nd ed., Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1996. Pg. 215
[2] Pesachim 54a
[3] Exodus 4:22-23; Exodus 19:5-6; Deuteronomy 14:1; Deuteronomy 32:6; Isaiah 63:16
[4] Deuteronomy 32:4-5
[5] God as a jealous and easily provoked being is a favorite argument by opponents of God and Christianity. God is a jealous God, we must not forget that. He is also to be feared—we mustn’t create God according to how we wish He is. God is just: “All His ways are justice, a God of truth and without injustice.” Just is the term for judgment (משפט, mishpat), not just righteous. Although He is also righteous: “Just (צדיק, tzadik, righteous or charitable) and upright is He.” God is jealous, but He is also long-suffering, patient, good, and merciful.
[6] Genesis 17:1; Deuteronomy 4:4
[7] See also: Jeremiah 21:4-5; Jeremiah 30:14-15
[8] “מֵימְרָא דַיי” See ACNA Gospel: John 1:1-18
[9] Psalms 146-150 are also known as the Hallelujah psalms, as they all start and end with the command to “Praise the Lord”.
[10] As with Psalm 146 and 147, the Septuagint indicates that Psalm 148 is a post-exilic psalm written by Haggai and Zechariah.
[11] Deuteronomy 18:18
[12] Genesis 3:8
[13] Genesis 6:9
[14] Genesis 17:1; Bereshit Rabbah 30.10
[15] Deuteronomy 4:4-8; Isaiah 43:10; Isaiah 49:6; Genesis 12:3; Genesis 18:18; Genesis 22:18; Genesis 26:4
[16] Jewish tradition is to publicly name a son when they are circumcised. Genesis 17 is used as the primary source for naming someone on the day of their circumcision. The first clear Jewish indication of this practice in primary sources occurs with the public naming of John, the son of Zechariah. The second is the circumcision and naming of Jesus.
[17] Despite the fact that Zechariah and Elizabeth lived very near to Bethlehem, were family, and just had a son of their own, Joseph and Mary remained in Bethlehem—the ancestral home of both Joseph and Mary—until warned to leave in a dream.
[18] Joseph received four notable dreams from God, each of which Joseph immediately and fully listened to and obeyed.
[19] Exodus 1:15-22
[20] Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews 17.6.5-6
[21] Isaiah 9:4; Isaiah 10:5, 15, 24-26. See also: Isaiah 11:4, Isaiah 14:5, 29; Isaiah 28:27; Isaiah 30:31;
[22] Branch, from נצר, is used only four times in Scripture: Isaiah 11:1; Isaiah 14:19; Isaiah 60:21; Daniel 11:7. חטר, hoter, is only used in Isaiah 11:1 and Proverbs 14:3, “By the mouth of a fool comes a rod for his back.”
[23] The term Nazirite, though somewhat similar in English, is quite different from Nazerene. Nazarite is (נזיר, nazir) in the Hebrew and (αγνισμου, hagnismou) in the Greek.
[24] The Nicene Creed also starts with the sentence, “We believe in one God, the Father, the almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen.” This is a reflection of Biblical truth in a time when the lure of gnostic heresy, that everything physical was bad, was felt strongly in the church. Today, this heresy is, unfortunately, becoming popular once again.
[25] Specifically, the god of creation—who is also the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
[26] Scholars can only speculate what the headdress or the turban looked like or even if they are different head coverings or the same head covering
[27] The Bible contains both prose and poetry, however, Hebraic prose often includes poetic qualities even as Hebraic poetry often commemorates historic events. The most common form of poetry in the Hebrew Scriptures is parallelisms, the expression of one idea or concept in two or more different ways. For example, “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path”. In this particular parallelism from Psalm 119:105 the words lamp and light are paired with feet and path.
[28] Psalm 147:1 and Psalm 147:12 have the superscription “αλληλουια Αγγαιου και Ζαχαριου.”
[29] The word ‘Hallelujah’ הַלְלוּיָה as an imperative to ‘Praise the Lord’ begins eleven psalms: 106, 111-113, 117, 135, 146-150. Hallelujah is also the final word of twelve psalms: 104-106, 113, 115-116, 135, 146-150. These have come to be known as the Hallel psalms.
An imperative is an exhortation or command, such as saying to someone, “Sit” or “Stand up!” It is not inconceivable that, during the Temple service, the conductor of worship would shout Hallelujah, and the worshippers present would then respond to the instruction and join with the Levites in praising the Lord.
[30] God provides rain for beasts, birds, and people.
[31] Proverbs 16:5
[32] Numbers 12:3
[33] James will write the same, “Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you.” While Paul provides an example to follow, “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit,but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 2:35).
[34] The status of biological children could be secured through the legal declarations of wills.
[35] One source, the Syrian Orthodox Primate Gregory Bar Hebraeus, from the 13th century, thought that upwards of 10% of the Roman Empire was Jewish. This was likely a misreading of the percentage of people who lived under the Roman Empire and the number of actual Roman citizens, just under 10% (roughly 6 million Roman citizens in Claudius’ census from 48 CE). Nonetheless, there was a large number of Judeans in the Roman Empire (and, according to Josephus, Israelites in Parthia). Alexandria, one of the larger cities in the Roman Empire, was a major Jewish centre with upwards of 35% of its population being Jewish. From 66-136, between the three great Jewish revolts, an estimated 1.6 million Jews were killed. Cassius Dio, in Roman History 69.14, wrote after the Bar Kokhba revolt, “Five hundred and eighty thousand men were slain in the various raids and battles, and the number of those that perished by famine, disease and fire was past finding out.”
[36] John 1:1
[37] The Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures widely used in the time of Jesus and the early church, uses the identical first words as John 1:1’s ἐν ἀρχῇ in Genesis 1:1.
[38] Genesis 28:21 in the Targum “וְאֵתוּב בִּשְׁלַם לְבֵית אַבָּא וִיהֵא מֵימְרָא דַיְיָ לִי לֵאלָהָא” (so that I come again to my father’s house in peace, then the מֵימְרָא [LORD] shall be my God.”); Exodus 19:17 also connects מֵימְרָא (Memra, word) to the divine, “וְאַפֵּיק משֶׁה יָת עַמָא לְקַדָמוּת מֵימְרָא דַיְיָ מִן מַשְׁרִיתָא וְאִתְעַתָּדוּ בְּשִׁפּוֹלֵי טוּרָא” (“Then Moses brought the people out of the camp to meet מֵימְרָא [God], and they took their stand at the foot of the mountain.”)
[39] John 1:9
[40] The Greek present participle in John 1:9 suggests that the true light is continually coming into the world. Even after His ascension, Jesus’ light remains, influencing and dispelling darkness.
[41] John 1:14
[42] Exodus 25:8
[43] Exodus spends more chapters describing the construction of the Tabernacle than it does describing the actual exodus from Egypt—which was also so God could dwell among them according to Exodus 29:45-46. God is in the details. The construction of the tent is obviously important, otherwise why spend so much time talking about it. The material used to make the inner sanctuary was called ‘tachash’, a mysterious type of skin. Some versions of the Bible translate this as badger skin or some other animal. Regardless of which animal is being described, the point is that the material is skin. Exodus also tells us it took 9 months to complete the construction of the Tabernacle. It is an ancient Hebrew tradition that says God chose to reside inside a structure made of skin that took nine months to fashion.
[44] Revelation 21:2
[45] God never changed Saul’s name to Paul or called him by his changed name. We don’t know precisely when Saul became changed his name nor why, whether he emulated his forefathers in receiving a new name or simply wished to have a simpler name for the Romans and Greeks he so commonly interacted with than Sha’ul.