by
Sally A. Brown
Elizabeth M. Engle Professor of Preaching and Worship Emerita
Princeton Theological Seminary
Princeton, NJ
The notion of divine/human conception would not, in itself, be new to readers of Matthew’s gospel. Educated readers in Jewish communities would have been acquainted with stories of such conceptions in Hellenic literature. Yet it is not to these stories that Matthew appeals for validation of his claim concerning the conception of Emmanuel. Rather, as a faithful Jew, Matthew seeks validation for his accounting for Mary’s pre-nuptial pregnancy in the prophetic corpus, specifically the Isaiah passage for Advent 3 (A) discussed here. In Isaiah, the “sign” of God’s imminent intervention on behalf of captive Israel is a virgin conception and birth. In Isaiah, of course, the prophecy is intended to apply to an immediately anticipated shift in Israel’s fortunes in which Israel would be released from captivity. Whether Matthew is re-reading the Isaiah text as a long-ago, as-yet-unfulfilled prophecy that foresaw Mary’s conception of a redeemer, or is appealing to Isaiah as a supporting text to render plausible his claim that Mary’s pregnancy is of divine origin, is open to debate.
Some suggest that Matthew adopted the trope of claiming divine/human origin for Jesus of Nazareth, whom he presents as God’s messianic agent of redemption, because of its persuasive value amid the cultures of his time. Lodged deep in Christian tradition, specifically in its creeds, the claim about Mary’s virgin conception is upheld (to varying degrees) as a tenet of orthodoxy across traditions. Yet Jesus’ identity as God-with-us is attested, in varied ways, by the whole sweep of the four Gospel accounts, two of which (Mark and John) are silent about the circumstances of Jesus’ conception and birth.
What is striking is the matter-of-factness of Matthew’s language. We find here no dramatic scene of divine-human conjugal relations. The virgin in question is not drenched in a “golden shower” from an amorous divinity (Zeus’s mating with Danae), nor is she overcome by an aggressively amorous swan (as Leda) or bull (Europa). “How silently, how silently the wondrous gift is giv’n,” says the hymn text (“O, Little Town of Bethlehem”).
Also significant: Matthew introduces the designation “Holy Spirit” to refer to the Spirit of God. This specific identifier for the divine spirit does not occur anywhere in the Hebrew scriptures. This undoubtedly reflects language already in use, orally, in Matthew’s community and in the wider Christian community. It is upon such oral traditions that Matthew elaborated to compose the late-first-century writing we know as his “gospel.”
Matthew’s story of Jesus’ birth invites us to focus on Joseph, so often portrayed in Nativity scenes as merely standing by, mute and passive as the sheep. Matthew emphasizes that the circumstances of Jesus’ birth depended every bit as much on Joseph’s willing agency as on Mary’s. Hymn texts such as Dan Forrest’s “The Hands that First Held Mary’s Child” celebrate Joseph as a model of discipleship.