Rome

The Four Villains of Christmas: Herod

The Four Villains of Christmas: Herod

Advent has arrived. It’s a time for joy and generosity and hope and celebration. But threats lurk. Over the next four weeks we will consider four villains of Christmas. The first villain is King Herod. King Herod fought for power. The yearning for power in our own hearts endangers Christmas.

Herod was the villain at the first Christmas. He was a politician’s politician. He was oily and underhanded, vicious and cold-hearted. Born in 73 BC, Herod rose to power quickly (in his mid-twenties) by maneuvering his way through the Roman political machine. He was ultimately given the title “King of Judea” by the Roman Senate.[i] Upon rising to power, Herod murdered anyone who might be his rival, including three of his sons and his first wife, Mariamne.

Herod’s paranoia served him well and allowed him to rule for 37 years—far longer than most. His political savvy extended well past his paranoia. A half-Jew himself, Herod was a master of alliances, eventually taking ten wives, each gaining him a strategic political advantage. And he knew the power of tangible change. Herod took on massive building projects throughout Judea including the construction of the port at Caesarea Maritima, the Second Temple, the fortress at Masada, and Herodium. Many of these can still be seen in Israel today. In fact, most beautiful ancient buildings that remain in Israel are Herod’s handiwork. To fund these projects, Herod levied massive taxes on the people that created animus between him and the people (and also helps us understand just how hated the tax collectors we meet in the Bible were).

One day in the final years of Herod’s life, a group of Magi from the East requested an audience with the King of Judea.

Two Immersive Books to Prepare for Easter

Two Immersive Books to Prepare for Easter

Tired of Netflix yet? With Easter approaching and (perhaps) some extra reading time on your hands, I have two books I would love to recommend to you. Both books are historic-fiction and both approach the story of Jesus through the eyes of a Roman character. If historic-fiction is your cup of tea, I think you’ll really enjoy them both.

The Advocate by Randy Singer

Randy Singer, a lawyer by trade, imaginatively steps into the sandals of Theophilus in his historic-fiction The Advocate. Theophilus is the man (or perhaps group of people) who Luke writes Luke and Acts to. Luke begins his account this way, “Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things that have been accomplished among us, just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word have delivered them to us, it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus…” Acts begins similarly, “In the first book, O Theophilus, I have dealt with all that Jesus began to do and teach…”

Randy Singer imagines that Theophilus was a Roman advocate, tutored in Rome by the Roman philosopher Seneca who then takes his first post under Pontius Pilate where he stands behind Pilate during the trial of Jesus of Nazareth.

The Villains of Christmas: Herod

The Villains of Christmas: Herod

Christmastime is here. It’s a time for joy and generosity and hope and celebration. But Christmas is not without its threats. Over the next four weeks we will consider four villains of Christmas. The name of the first villain is King Herod. King Herod exemplifies power. The yearning for power in our own hearts threatens our experience of Christmas.

Herod was the villain at the first Christmas. He was a politician’s politician. He was oily and underhanded, vicious and cold-hearted. Born in 73 BC, Herod rose to power quickly (in his mid-twenties) by maneuvering his way through the Roman political machine and given the title “King of Judea” by the Roman Senate.[i] Upon rising to power, Herod decimated anyone who might be his rival, including three of his sons and his first wife, Mariamne.

Herod’s paranoia served him well and allowed him to rule for 37 years—far longer than most. His political savvy extended well past his paranoia. A half-Jew himself, Herod was a master of alliances, eventually taking ten wives, each gaining him a strategic political advantage. And he knew the power of tangible change. Herod took on massive building projects throughout Judea including the construction of the port at Caesarea Maritima, the Second Temple, the fortress at Masada, and Herodium. Many of these can still be seen in Israel today. In fact, most beautiful ancient buildings that remain are Herod’s handiwork. To fund these projects, Herod levied massive taxes on the people that created animus between him and the people (and also helps us understand just how hated the tax collectors we meet in the Bible were).

One day in the final years of Herod’s life, a group of Magi from the East requested an audience with Herod.

Nonviolence and the Christian: Jesus' Ministry

Nonviolence and the Christian: Jesus' Ministry

Violence was contrary to everything Jesus stood for. In fact, Jesus absorbed the violence of human beings to bring about peace.

The conclusion was from our first post was surprising: that God in the Old Testament was not a God who endorsed violence.  The conclusion of this post is equally unsurprising: Jesus strongly opposed violence. But what may be surprising is how that very position by Jesus was a stumbling block for his contemporaries to see him as Messiah.

Jesus wasn’t the only one who claimed to be Messiah who walked ancient Palestinian soil. Two of those who arrived on the scene after Herod the Great died were Simon and Anthronges. Both led independent revolts against the Roman Empire, with the “principle purpose… to kill Romans” and reclaim the throne by force. The Roman Empire crushed both revolts and executed both men who claimed to be Messiah. The Zealots waited with bated breath for a Messiah who would overthrow Roman rule by force and reclaim the Promised Land with the new Davidic king on the throne.

And then on the scene arrived a Jewish peasant, who talked about the arrival of a kingdom, but a kingdom that “is not of this world.” In fact, Jesus explains to Pontius Pilate, that “if my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting… But my kingdom is not from the world.”[i]

In other words, Jesus’ pacifism was not just a quirk of his ministry, it flipped the very expectations of who the Messiah was supposed to be.