Post by mikev on Jul 26, 2022 20:02:33 GMT
Luke 21:23-24
23 But woe to those who are pregnant and to those who are nursing babies in those days! For there will be great distress in the land and wrath upon this people. 24 And they will fall by the edge of the sword, and be led away captive into all nations. And Jerusalem will be trampled by Gentiles until the times of the Gentiles are fulfilled.
The pregnant and nursing mothers in Luke 21:23 provide one focal point for the horrors of war and apocalyptic judgment. Pregnancy, childbirth, and infancy are powerful images for what was, in the first century, a time of great danger for mother and child, and also a time when hopes for the future crystallized in the birth of the next generation. In this sense, the pregnant and nursing women of Luke 21 may remind the reader of some other pregnant and nursing women: Elizabeth and Mary.
Luke’s story begins with a barren woman. Elizabeth and Zechariah were righteous; they lived by God’s law. But they had no children (a state which might, in that time, indicate divine judgment—this is why Luke tells us that they were good people). Zechariah meets an angel one day in the temple, and he learns that his wife is going to bear the prophet who will prepare the way for the coming of God:
Lo, I will send you the prophet Elijah before the great and terrible day of the LORD comes.He will turn the hearts of parents to their children and the hearts of children to their parents, so that I will not come and strike the land with a curse (Malachi 4:5-6).
With the spirit and power of Elijah John will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord (Luke 1:17).
The “him” before whom John will go is introduced in the next part of Luke’s narrative. A few months after visiting Zechariah, the angel goes to see a woman, one whose fertility is not yet in question; she’s betrothed, but the marriage isn’t finalized yet. In a surprising twist on the usual biblical birth announcement, the angel tells this young woman that she too will bear a son, who will be known as the son of God and the son of David; this baby will be king.
Mary’s song celebrates the blessing of a lowly slave, the scattering of the proud, the dethroning of the powerful, the stuffing of the hungry and the empty bellies of the rich. These reversals build on the world-turned-upside-down idea of a pregnant virgin, and a barren elderly woman with a fetus leaping in her womb; God’s salvation comes through the same image the prophets and apocalypticists used for judgment and restoration—pregnancy, childbirth, infancy. Elizabeth and Mary, pregnant women and nursing mothers; Luke begins with childbirth and infancy as images of salvation and hope, and closes with childbirth and infancy as images of judgment and destruction.
The birth narratives of Luke incorporate language of judgment, too, a foretaste of what is to come. John prepares the way for the coming of God to judge, and the reversals Mary celebrates are not such good news for the rich and powerful. These hints of judgment in Luke 1 tie in with the whole of Luke 21. The chapter begins with the picture of a widow making a small contribution to the temple; Jesus praises this woman for her great sacrifice instead of praising the rich for their more valuable contributions, a comment which leads directly into the praise of the beauty of the temple—and Jesus’ warning of its judgment.
Pregnant women and nursing mothers get one more mention in Luke’s gospel, though in the inverse, and in a comment directed at women rather than men (as in ch. 21). As Jesus is on the way to his execution, he tells the women who weep for him that they should save their tears for themselves and their children. “For the days are surely coming when they will say, ‘Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore, and the breasts that never nursed’” (Luke 23:29). In the first century, whether in Palestine or Rome, a woman’s primary responsibility was to bear children for her husband’s household; for the Jews, fertility was a blessing from God (cf. Deut. 28:4, or Psalm 128). To say the barren and childless are blessed is rather shocking, and would surely shock the ‘daughters of Jerusalem.’ But, according to Luke, it’s better to have no children, with all the disparagement and devaluing that state would engender, than to watch them suffer through war. The apocalyptic war coming to Jerusalem is no place for infants. Or their mothers. Or anyone, really.
Luke’s story begins with the pregnancy of a barren woman past the years of childbirth, and the pregnancy of a young unmarried woman. These women and their divinely blessed wombs are signs of restoration, of God’s salvation—but it’s salvation laced with judgment, and the judgment comes to the surface as the story progresses. By the time Jesus gets to Jerusalem, judgment has become a major theme, and pregnant women and nursing mothers become signs of the horrors of judgment and destruction. Woe to the pregnant and nursing, blessings on the barren: This reversal of basic cultural norms and theological teaching is a vivid warning of the apocalyptic upheaval of the siege of Jerusalem.
Resource
Note:In my own research I find that this occurrence Happened In Matthew 2:16-18
Massacre of the Innocents
16 Then Herod, when he saw that he was deceived by the wise men, was exceedingly angry; and he sent forth and put to death all the male children who were in Bethlehem and in all its districts, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had determined from the wise men. 17 Then was fulfilled what was spoken by Jeremiah the prophet, saying:
18 “A voice was heard in Ramah,
Lamentation, weeping, and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children,
Refusing to be comforted,
Because they are no more.”
23 But woe to those who are pregnant and to those who are nursing babies in those days! For there will be great distress in the land and wrath upon this people. 24 And they will fall by the edge of the sword, and be led away captive into all nations. And Jerusalem will be trampled by Gentiles until the times of the Gentiles are fulfilled.
The pregnant and nursing mothers in Luke 21:23 provide one focal point for the horrors of war and apocalyptic judgment. Pregnancy, childbirth, and infancy are powerful images for what was, in the first century, a time of great danger for mother and child, and also a time when hopes for the future crystallized in the birth of the next generation. In this sense, the pregnant and nursing women of Luke 21 may remind the reader of some other pregnant and nursing women: Elizabeth and Mary.
Luke’s story begins with a barren woman. Elizabeth and Zechariah were righteous; they lived by God’s law. But they had no children (a state which might, in that time, indicate divine judgment—this is why Luke tells us that they were good people). Zechariah meets an angel one day in the temple, and he learns that his wife is going to bear the prophet who will prepare the way for the coming of God:
Lo, I will send you the prophet Elijah before the great and terrible day of the LORD comes.He will turn the hearts of parents to their children and the hearts of children to their parents, so that I will not come and strike the land with a curse (Malachi 4:5-6).
With the spirit and power of Elijah John will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord (Luke 1:17).
The “him” before whom John will go is introduced in the next part of Luke’s narrative. A few months after visiting Zechariah, the angel goes to see a woman, one whose fertility is not yet in question; she’s betrothed, but the marriage isn’t finalized yet. In a surprising twist on the usual biblical birth announcement, the angel tells this young woman that she too will bear a son, who will be known as the son of God and the son of David; this baby will be king.
Mary’s song celebrates the blessing of a lowly slave, the scattering of the proud, the dethroning of the powerful, the stuffing of the hungry and the empty bellies of the rich. These reversals build on the world-turned-upside-down idea of a pregnant virgin, and a barren elderly woman with a fetus leaping in her womb; God’s salvation comes through the same image the prophets and apocalypticists used for judgment and restoration—pregnancy, childbirth, infancy. Elizabeth and Mary, pregnant women and nursing mothers; Luke begins with childbirth and infancy as images of salvation and hope, and closes with childbirth and infancy as images of judgment and destruction.
The birth narratives of Luke incorporate language of judgment, too, a foretaste of what is to come. John prepares the way for the coming of God to judge, and the reversals Mary celebrates are not such good news for the rich and powerful. These hints of judgment in Luke 1 tie in with the whole of Luke 21. The chapter begins with the picture of a widow making a small contribution to the temple; Jesus praises this woman for her great sacrifice instead of praising the rich for their more valuable contributions, a comment which leads directly into the praise of the beauty of the temple—and Jesus’ warning of its judgment.
Pregnant women and nursing mothers get one more mention in Luke’s gospel, though in the inverse, and in a comment directed at women rather than men (as in ch. 21). As Jesus is on the way to his execution, he tells the women who weep for him that they should save their tears for themselves and their children. “For the days are surely coming when they will say, ‘Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore, and the breasts that never nursed’” (Luke 23:29). In the first century, whether in Palestine or Rome, a woman’s primary responsibility was to bear children for her husband’s household; for the Jews, fertility was a blessing from God (cf. Deut. 28:4, or Psalm 128). To say the barren and childless are blessed is rather shocking, and would surely shock the ‘daughters of Jerusalem.’ But, according to Luke, it’s better to have no children, with all the disparagement and devaluing that state would engender, than to watch them suffer through war. The apocalyptic war coming to Jerusalem is no place for infants. Or their mothers. Or anyone, really.
Luke’s story begins with the pregnancy of a barren woman past the years of childbirth, and the pregnancy of a young unmarried woman. These women and their divinely blessed wombs are signs of restoration, of God’s salvation—but it’s salvation laced with judgment, and the judgment comes to the surface as the story progresses. By the time Jesus gets to Jerusalem, judgment has become a major theme, and pregnant women and nursing mothers become signs of the horrors of judgment and destruction. Woe to the pregnant and nursing, blessings on the barren: This reversal of basic cultural norms and theological teaching is a vivid warning of the apocalyptic upheaval of the siege of Jerusalem.
Resource
Note:In my own research I find that this occurrence Happened In Matthew 2:16-18
Massacre of the Innocents
16 Then Herod, when he saw that he was deceived by the wise men, was exceedingly angry; and he sent forth and put to death all the male children who were in Bethlehem and in all its districts, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had determined from the wise men. 17 Then was fulfilled what was spoken by Jeremiah the prophet, saying:
18 “A voice was heard in Ramah,
Lamentation, weeping, and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children,
Refusing to be comforted,
Because they are no more.”