Monday, December 20, 2021

Out of Bethlehem

You’ve probably heard of Bethlehem. Whether from singing the famous Christmas hymn “O Little Town of Bethlehem” or from hearing the story of Jesus’ birth, chances are if you grew up in America or in a Christian community, you’ve at least heard of the place. But how much do you really know about it? Have you ever wondered why of all the places Jesus could have been born, He was born there? If you know your Bible, you might think, “Well, He was born there because that’s where it was prophesied that He would be born.” True, but why was Bethlehem the place that was prophesied? Was it just some random town?

Like many of you, I’ve known of Bethlehem’s existence for practically my whole life, but in 2019 I finally got to visit, and now I’m living a mere 14 miles from there, as the crow flies. Living in the Holy Land somehow makes things in Scripture jump out more—“little” things that we tend to glance over because of our unfamiliarity with their meaning or context, things like where various events happened. After visiting Capernaum in 2019, I realized just how many of the familiar New Testament accounts happened there. Similarly, this Christmas season, I’ve been noticing a lot about Bethlehem.

For instance, did you realize that Ruth met Boaz in Bethlehem? That fact just sunk in for me earlier this month as I was reading the book of Ruth for the who-knows-how-many-th time. And that fact, which is super cool for reasons I’d be getting ahead of myself to explain here, started me on a hunt to see what else happened in Bethlehem. As it turns out, a lot did.

My first discovery is actually thanks to one of our pastor’s recent sermons in which he mentioned that the name Bethlehem in Hebrew is the combination of the words beth + lechem, which literally means “house of bread.” Names typically were significant in ancient times and weren’t just randomly assigned, so it is reasonable to assume that Bethlehem was known for or at least associated with bread in some way. Thus, we can say, out of Bethlehem came bread.

The first time we hear of Bethlehem in the Bible is in Genesis 35 when Jacob’s beloved wife Rachel, the mother of Joseph and Benjamin (who would represent three of the twelve tribes of Israel), dies in childbirth and is buried “on the way to Ephrath (that is, Bethlehem)” (v. 19, ESV). Thus, with the very first mention of Bethlehem, we find that it is a place associated with grief, a very particular kind of grief that is tied to the Fall: death from difficulty in childbirth.

The next reference to “Bethlehem” comes in Joshua 19, when the land is being divided among the tribes. The Bethlehem mentioned here, however, is a different place. It’s not the Ephrath Bethlehem, it’s a Bethlehem in Galilee (the north) which was part of the tribe of Zebulun’s allotment. The next mention of Bethlehem is also believed to refer to the Bethlehem of Zebulun rather than of Judah. This occurs in Judges 12 when it is identified as the hometown of the judge Ibzan.

The Bethlehem of Jesus’ birth shows up again, though, in Judges 17 as the origin of the Levite who became a priest for a man named Micah who had made a shrine for an idol. The Levites were the one tribe who were scattered throughout the other tribes of Israel to serve as priests of the Lord, so it’s not unusual that this Levite was coming from the territory of the tribe of Judah. What is unusual, though, is that he had left Judah and was “sojourning” in Ephraim, a central tribe, for some unknown reason. Furthermore, he ends up disobeying God’s commandment two-fold. First, he becomes an accessory to possessing graven images, disobeying God’s general command not to worship idols. But he also forsakes God’s specific calling on his life as a Levite to facilitate worship of the one, true God and instead starts serving a false god and facilitating worship of it. Thus, out of Bethlehem came an unfaithful priest.

A couple of chapters later, in Judges 19, we’re met with another disturbing account related to Bethlehem. The Levite in this chapter is described in much the same way as the one in chapter 17, although it is unclear whether or not they are the same person. Regardless, the Levite takes a wife/concubine from Bethlehem in Judah and brings her to where he is sojourning in Ephraim. She becomes unfaithful and leaves him to return to Bethlehem, at which point, after a few months, he goes “to speak kindly to her and bring her back.” He is welcomed into his father-in-law’s home and stays for several days before leaving with his wife to journey back to Ephraim. On the way, they stop to spend the night in a town called Gibeah where, long story short, the woman is raped and murdered while her husband does nothing to stop it. Upon finding her dead in the morning, he carries her body back to Ephraim where he proceeds to cut it in twelve pieces to send throughout the nation to make it known what a terrible thing the people of Gibeah had done, leading to their punishment. Thus, out of Bethlehem came an unfaithful wife, an unprotective husband, and another story of grief.

Then comes Ruth. Bethlehem in Judah is identified as the hometown of yet another man who sojourns elsewhere, Elimelech, the husband of Naomi. When Elimelech and his two sons die in Moab (modern-day Jordan), Naomi and one daughter-in-law Ruth return to Bethlehem where Boaz, the family’s kinsman redeemer, is also from. He marries Ruth to carry on the family name, and at the end of the book we learn that Ruth and Boaz of Bethlehem become the great-grandparents of David. David is introduced in 1 Samuel 16 as the youngest son of his father who is working as a shepherd and who is chosen by the Lord to be king of Israel. Thus, out of Bethlehem came a shepherd king.  

The next several mentions of Bethlehem are not specified as the Bethlehem in Judah, although it is likely that the Judean town is the one referenced. Asahel, who is David’s nephew, the brother of David’s army commander Joab, and one of David’s mighty men himself, is killed by an enemy of David’s and is buried in his father’s tomb in Bethlehem (1 Chronicles 2:16; 2 Samuel 2). Two men named Elhanan who were also among David’s most valiant military supporters are tied to Bethlehem as well (2 Samuel 23:24; 2 Samuel 21:19). Thus, out of Bethlehem came strong warriors.

In 2 Samuel 23 and 1 Chronicles 11, we find the account of David in conflict with the ancient Canaanite people, the Philistines, who had a garrison at Bethlehem. David yearns for water from the well in Bethlehem (presumably, the one in Judah that is his hometown), and three of his mighty men break through the Philistine lines and get the water for him, which he then pours out before the Lord out of respect for the lives of his men. Thus, out of Bethlehem came water from a well.

When David’s grandson Rehoboam became king, leading to a split in the kingdom with Judah and Benjamin on one side and the rest of the tribes on the other, he built fortifications at several existing towns, one of which was Bethlehem. These weren’t just minor enhancements; 2 Chronicles 11:11 says, “He made the fortresses strong, and put commanders in them, and stores of food, oil, and wine.” Thus, Bethlehem became a strong fortress.

But all the fortresses in Judah weren’t strong enough to keep Babylon from conquering the kingdom. After a few hundred years of progressive rebelliousness against God, the people of Judah were conquered by the Babylonians and many were taken into exile, where they remained for several decades. In the meantime, the remnant who was left in the land became afraid of retribution from Babylon after someone killed the Babylonian-appointed governor and those with him. They decided to flee to Egypt, but before they went, they stopped at a village by Bethlehem to inquire of the Lord through the prophet Jeremiah (Jeremiah 41:17). After being commanded by God not to go to Egypt, the people blatantly disobeyed and went anyway, setting themselves up for destruction. Thus, near Bethlehem the people rebelled against God.  

When a group of the exiles was allowed to return from Babylon, Nehemiah made a point to list the different groups of people who made the journey home. Among those who returned were “The men of Bethlehem” (Nehemiah 7:26). Thus, Bethlehem’s population returned, showing God’s mercy even in judgment and setting up the conditions for the fulfilment of a prophecy that had been made by Micah (a different Micah from the one mentioned earlier) a couple of hundred years before the exiles’ return.

That prophecy was specifically concerning Bethlehem: “But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel, whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days. […] And he shall stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the LORD, in the majesty of the name of the LORD his God. And they shall dwell secure, for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth. And he shall be their peace.” (Micah 5:2, 4-5a, ESV). Thus, out of Bethlehem was to come a strong shepherd king who would be a strong fortress and put an end to war and destruction, bringing peace.

Some four hundred years would pass after the exiles returned to Judah before the town of Bethlehem would show up again. Luke tells us that, because Joseph was a descendant of David, Bethlehem of Judah was his and Mary’s destination when the emperor called for a census. It was there that Mary gave birth to Jesus, there that the shepherds visited Him, there that the magi from the east found Him, and there that Herod went on his jealous, murderous rampage against all boys two-years-old and younger trying to kill Him (Luke 2 and Matthew 2).

Throughout Scripture, Bethlehem is shown as a microcosm of all that is wrong with the world as a result of the Fall, and from rebellion to restoration, it tells the story of the relationship between man and God. It begins as a place of death, of unfaithfulness, of neglect, of war, of exile, of fear, of rebellion, of covetousness, of murder. But it also a microcosm of all the Fall-reversing promises that are fulfilled in the Promised One, Jesus. From the house of bread, came the Bread of Life. From the town with a desirable well, came the Living Water. From the hometown of warriors came the Mighty Victor. From the home of a shepherd king came the King of Kings who is our Good Shepherd. From the strong fortress came the strongest Fortress of all. Instead of an unfaithful priest came the Great High Priest, Faithful and True. Instead of an unprotective husband came the Bridegroom, protective and loving.

Because of Jesus there will be no more murder, no more covetousness, no more rebellion, no more fear, no more exile, no more war, no more neglect, no more unfaithfulness, no more death. Because of Him, the process of reversing the Fall has started and one day will be fully complete. The One born in Bethlehem has lived the perfect life no one else could; He has broken the curse; He has defeated the Enemy; He has conquered death. Out of Bethlehem has come the Savior of the world.

And that, my friends, makes for a very Merry Christmas!

PC: Eric Eanes. Used with permission.


Monday, December 6, 2021

God, the Lord of Language

I’ve been thinking a lot about language lately. Trying to learn a new one will do that to you, I guess. As I’m learning Arabic, I’m currently at the stage where I generally can read words, but I have no idea what they mean most of the time. I can sing (some of) the songs in church, but I have no idea what exactly I’m singing. I know I’m communicating meaning, but I’m in the dark as to what that meaning actually is.

Language in general is really a strange concept when you pause to ponder it. Various sounds are put together in numerous ways to form words to which we attribute meaning, and those words are arranged in things we call sentences to communicate more complex meanings. And those sounds and words and sentences can be represented by symbols, which we call letters that make up alphabets that are the tools of “written language.” And somehow we are able to understand one another—at least partially, at least enough to work together toward shared endeavors.

Such was the case for the ancient people of Babel, whom we read about in Genesis 11. Moses tells us that “the whole earth had one language and the same words” (Gen. 11:1, ESV). That would have been a pretty remarkable time to be alive. No matter whom you talked to, you could understand them and be understood by them. Nothing would get lost in translation. This single language made it possible for the people to band together and decide to build a city with a huge tower.

Why would they want to do that? For two reasons, which can be found in verse 4: “and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be dispersed over the face of the whole earth.” First of all, they started to get a big head. Look at us! We’re so intelligent and resourceful, and if we all work together, there’s nothing we can’t do! We can even reach to the heavens! In other words, pride filled their hearts, and that’s a problem. But secondly, they wanted to build a city, so they wouldn’t be scattered across the globe. That reason might not seem like that much of a problem—until we remember Genesis 9, that is.  

After the Flood, there were only eight human beings alive on the earth—Noah and his three sons and their four wives. When God established His covenant with Noah and his sons, He explicitly commanded them to “fill the earth” as they obeyed the command to “be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 9:1). All the people at Babel were descendants of these four couples, so for them to do something intentionally to prevent people from “dispersing” (a.k.a. filling the earth), was in direct disobedience to God.

So what were the consequences of their pride and disobedience? God “confused the language of all the earth. And from there the LORD dispersed them over the face of all the earth” (Gen. 11:9, ESV). He took away their ability to understand one another, thereby making it necessary for them to go their separate ways and fulfill His command. In essence, He created multiple languages instantaneously. We often think of God as Creator in general terms, or perhaps in more specific terms related to the creation of the earth, plants, animals, humans, etc. But think about the implications of a God who created language.

The fact that God created language in general means He is communicative and therefore relational. He desires to communicate with us, and He has created us to be able to communicate with Him and with each other. And even though He created multiple languages, their overall similarity is a testament to His organization and logic. Stephen R. Anderson writes for the Linguistic Society of America:

Human language differs from the communicative behavior of every other known organism in a number of fundamental ways, all shared across languages. By comparison with the communicative devices of herring gulls, honey bees, dolphins or any other non-human animal, language provides us with a system that is not stimulus bound and ranges over an infinity of possible distinct messages. It achieves this with a limited, finite system of units that combine hierarchically and recursively into larger units. The words themselves are structured from a small inventory of sounds basic to the language, individually meaningless elements combined according to a system completely independent of the way words combine into phrases and sentences. […] And the principles governing these systems of sounds, words and meanings are largely common across languages, with only limited possibilities for difference (the parameters described above).[i]

 

So even with the many languages in existence, they are similar at the core, and this reflects how they all came from the same place—or rather, from the same Person—a Person whose infinite creativity and ordered constancy express themselves in the creation of humans and their languages as distinct from the rest of creation yet fundamentally the same amongst each other.

But the fact that God created multiple languages also reminds us of another aspect of His nature—His omniscience. He designed language itself, so He knows all there is to know about each and every language in existence—past, present, and future. This means that even if no one else can understand us, God can and does. Any meaning that we create from words, He already knows. He is the one who Created us with the capability to craft meaning and, in doing so, to reflect His image as Creator. And even when words fail us, God tells us that His Spirit understands our thoughts and feelings (see Romans 8:26-27). There is great comfort in knowing that there is Someone who will never misunderstand us.

So the next time you hear someone speak a language different from your own, remember the people of Babel, but more importantly, remember the one and only God, the Lord of language, whose power and grace even in disciplining His creatures, gave us the beauty of similar yet diverse languages all across the world. Remember that this God, the Lord of language, sees, hears, and understands your very heart. And remember that this very same God, the Lord of language, has spoken to you through the written word and through sending the Word Himself, Jesus Christ, to communicate to you the best message of all—that God has taken on flesh and made it possible for you to be in right relationship with Him now and forevermore.  

 



[i] Stephen R. Anderson, “How many languages are there in the world?” Linguistic Society of America, https://www.linguisticsociety.org/content/how-many-languages-are-there-world : accessed 2 December 2021.