Pacific Side

Pacific Side

Global Affairs, History, Philosophy, Literature, and the Glocalization of the Internet

10 December 2009

On the Eve of Dedication

Several weeks ago in my reading, I came to the passage in John 10 where Jesus is in Jerusalem for Chanukah. "At that time the Feast of Dedication took place at Jerusalem. It was winter, and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the colonnade of Solomon." (John 10:22-23) Those two sentences alone are intriguing to me. The Bible tells us a lot about what Jesus said and did but not much about his unvoiced thoughts. As he walked the halls of the Temple that holiday season, was he remembering the statue of Zeus that had been raised there in the winter almost two centuries before? The pig slaughtered upon the altar of burnt offering? Antiochus Epiphanes' callous disregard for all that was sacred to the faith when he marched with force into the Holy of Holies?

Eleazar Maccabee at the Battle of Beth Zechariah

As a boy, I first learned the story of the Maccabees, Antiochus Epiphanes, and the desolation and rededication of the Temple from my dad while studying the prophecy of Daniel. The clash of the classical world of the Greek empire, its rich mythology, and plethora of deities with the ancient Jewish monotheism and Hebraic values that I'd been raised to reverence made for a colorful period of history that piqued my interest from the start. My dad literally has bookshelves stacked on bookshelves in his study. When I was young, I would sometimes take down books at random and flip through them. One of those books was the Antiquities of the Jews by Josephus. There was one image in that particular book that fascinated me, a neoclassical depiction of Eleazar Maccabee toppling the elephants of the Seleucids. It was just a simple black and white illustration, but the dynamic quality of the scene was thrilling. I can't help but wonder if as a boy, Jesus found a sense of excitement in the Chanukah story as well. Chronologically, he would have been about as far from the events of the first Chanukah as we in the U.S. today are from the events of the Civil War. It's clear from scripture that he shared the Maccabees' intense passion for the sanctity of the Temple Mount. All four of the gospels record how he cleansed the Temple grounds by driving out all who were buying and selling goods and exchanging money, even aggressively crafting a weapon, a whip of cords, for the purpose. And with his actions came his words:

"Take these things away; do not make my Father's house a house of trade." (John 2:16)

"Is it not written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations'? But you have made it a den of robbers." (Matthew 21:13, Mark 11:17, Luke 19:46)

"Zeal for your house will consume me." (John 2:17, Psalm 69:9)

As heir to a fraction of the territory conquered by Alexander, Antiochus IV became the first ruler in the history of the Greek empire to explicitly claim divine titles for himself. "Theos Epiphanes", "God Manifest," was attached to his name wherever it occurred. He was Zeus incarnate, and every coin and scrap of paper issued in the Seleucid realm proclaimed it. It's clear from any study of the history of the wider world that this was nothing new. Men have consistently laid claim to godhood as far back as the records go. The Egyptian pharaohs claimed to be various incarnations of Horus, Osiris, and Ra. The sovereigns of the Xia (夏) and Shang (商) dynasties in China were called sons of Heaven (天子) and in the Qin (秦) assumed the additional title of divine emperor (皇帝), intended to hearken back to the god-kings of prehistoric legend. The rulers of Mesopotamia had often declared themselves deities; Nebuchadnezzar II is known for raising a massive statue of his own image for worship. In every case, the pointed words of the Shema echoed through history in stark contrast, "Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one." (Deuteronomy 6:4) Not two. Not three. Not fifty. Not millions. When Antiochus Epiphanes profaned the Temple with idolatrous monuments to his own divinity, it was blasphemy against the unity of the LORD, and for three years the sons and daughters of Israel fought to regain Jerusalem with the same zealous conviction that led Jesus, when asked which of the commandments is most important, to begin his answer with the Shema. "Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one." (Mark 12:29)

With those thoughts, I can move on from those first two sentences in John 10. Jesus had already claimed to be the Messiah (John 4:26). Apparently the word about him had spread and there was public debate about the matter (John 7:25-44), so people at the Temple in Jerusalem for Chanukah ask him, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.” (John 10:24) Traditionally, the Messiah was expected to be a great man of royal descent but not God. For Jesus, his identity as Messiah and as the Son of God always went hand in hand:

But he said to them, "How can they say that the Messiah is David's son? For David himself says in the Book of Psalms, 'The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool.' David thus calls him Lord, so how is he his son?" (Luke 20:41-44)

"If you are the Messiah," they said, "tell us." Jesus answered, "If I tell you, you will not believe me, and if I asked you, you would not answer. But from now on, the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of the mighty God." They all asked, "Are you then the Son of God?" He replied, "You are right in saying I am." (Luke 22:67-70)

In John 10, it’s the same; when they ask if he is the Messiah, he responds by explaining his relationship to the Father, which implies he is the Son of God. The people prepare to stone him “for blasphemy, because you, a mere man, claim to be God.” (John 10:33) The charge given against Jesus before he was killed was exactly the same, "We have a law, and according to that law he must die, because he claimed to be the Son of God.” (John 19:7)

Given that they were gathered in Jerusalem to remember Chanukah, their incredulity is somewhat understandable. Not only does this man make himself God like Antiochus Epiphanes, but this time around the one making the claim is a son of Israel. It raises questions. Why would one with clear reverence for the holiness of God, his Temple, and the values of Chanukah make such a claim? What difference if any is there between the claims of Antiochus Epiphanes and Jesus?

The simple answer and the one Jesus gave them is that his claim is justified because he is who he says he is. It’s late here (I’ll have to edit later) and I’m not about to tack on an apology for the deity of Christ. ”Why then do you accuse me of blasphemy because I said, 'I am God's Son'? Do not believe me unless I do what my Father does. But if I do it, even though you do not believe me, believe the miracles, that you may know and understand that the Father is in me, and I in the Father.” (John 10:36-38) Antiochus Epiphanes came in his own name. Jesus came in the name of the Father. Antiochus Epiphanes exalted himself in the pursuit of his own glory. Jesus’ claims to divinity always made mention of his relation to the Father. One came in defiance against the God of Israel. One came according to the order woven into the very fabric of the universe by its Creator.

Three of the gospels record that the curtain of the Temple was torn in two when Jesus died (Matthew 27:51, Mark 15:38, Luke 23:45). By any other hand, it would have been an act of desolation, but he alone who was completely holy was capable of fulfilling the law for all eternity. Through his sacrifice, the Holy of Holies was opened for us to enter, not on terms of our own choosing but only by the righteousness we have through Messiah. (Hebrews 6:19, Hebrews 10:20) He is our great high priest who intercedes for us in the very presence of the LORD. God with us. Rejoice, rejoice, Immanuel has come to thee, O Israel.

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