James F. McGrath, Christmaker: A Life of John the Baptist

McGrath, James F. Christmaker: A Life of John the Baptist. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2024. xi+172 pp. Hb; $24.99   Link to Eerdmans

James F. McGrath is Clarence L. Goodwin Chair in New Testament Language and Literature at Butler University. Prior to this book on John the Baptist, he published John’s Apologetic Christology (SNTSMS 111; Cambridge, 2001), The Mandaean Book of John: Critical Edition, Translation, and Commentary (with Charles G. Häberl; De Gruyter, 2019), and The Only True God: Early Christian Monotheism in Its Jewish Context (University of Illinois Press, 2022). In 2023, he published the entertaining The A to Z of the New Testament: Things Experts Know That Everyone Else Should Too (Eerdmans, reviewed here). McGrath is active on social media and regularly posts to his blog, Religion Prof.

John the Baptist

McGrath makes some rather bold claims in this popular-level book on John the Baptist. For example, “What became Christianity was an offshoot of the Baptist movement” (124). Jesus was a disciple or apostle of John (93), and “Jesus’s teaching was the gist of John’s message” (74). Christmaker challenges much of what most Bible readers think they know about John the Baptist.

In the first chapter, McGrath describes John as “a rebellious son.” He was born into a priestly family but does not serve in the temple as a priest like his father, Zachariah. In fact, he is quite critical of the temple. McGrath suggests this is because his mother, Elizabeth, dedicated him as a Nazareth from birth, similar to Samson or Samuel. He suggests John may have struggled with his father’s desire for him to serve as a priest and his mother’s oath that he be a Nazarite. McGrath’s solution is that Nazarites had similar roles to priests and may have been “priests in the order of Melchizedek” (70).

Little can be known about John’s early life. McGrath rightly dismisses the view that John was not an Essene or that he spent any significant time with the scenes at Qumran. there are similarities between John’s criticism of the temple and his washing in the wilderness and the Essenes. Although he was not a sect member, the Essenes may have been dialogue partners with John (24).

John did not go into the wilderness to live a solitary lifestyle. He was “calling people to revisit the wilderness as a prelude to becoming the people that Israel was called to be from its beginning” (32).  John’s activity at the Jordan River met with pilgrims from Galilee on their way to Jerusalem (71).

In the second chapter, “I Will Destroy This Temple,” McGrath argues that John’s baptism was an alternative attempt at Temple sacrifice for the forgiveness of sin. He begins with Isaiah 10:10–15, a text he suggests was “John’s manifesto” (64). Like Isaiah, John was preparing exiles to return spiritually through the wilderness. John was preparing Israel for the final eschatological temple. John “came to predict God would destroy the temple and replace it.” Although this is never actually stated in Matthew or Luke, this seems to be built on McGrath’s argument that baptism replaced sacrifice and that the prophets looked forward to a new eschatological temple. The old Herodian temple had to go if a new eschatological temple was coming.

McGrath goes further. When Jesus did the temple action, it would have been perceived as a message from John” (53). He suggests that John sent Jesus to deliver the message at the temple. Jesus served as John’s emissary (57), and later in the book, he suggests that Jesus was “John’s leading apostle” (93). This raises an important theme that occurs throughout the book. Many studies of John the Baptist suggest some tension between John and Jesus. For example, in Matthew 11:2- 6, John’s disciples ask Jesus if he is really the one to come (read my comments on this passage here). There were also differences in how John and Jesus went about their mission. McGrath calls these “superficial differences” and no real disagreement (115).  McGrath does consider Jesus an innovator, “even in relation to John, whom he esteemed highly and to whom he owed much” (141).

In chapter 3, “The Lost Sheep of the House of Israel,” McGrath argues that John is an apocalyptic prophet. Like Jesus, John made no effort to organize a separate community from the Judaism of his day. With John’s ministry, God is creating a new people of God. McGrath suggests this is a “direct line” from John the Baptist, through Jesus, to Paul. “Paul is building on a foundation that John laid” (75). I don’t think McGrath means that Paul intentionally built on the foundation of John. It is not even certain Paul knew the teachings of John the Baptist. Nevertheless, McGrath is correct in understanding John’s ministry as standing on the foundation of the prophets and within the larger world of Second Temple Judaism.

McGrath deals with the question of what John thought about Jesus in his fourth chapter, “Someone is Coming.” He argues that John did not see himself as Jesus’s forerunner, nor that Jesus was “the one who is coming.” McGrath does not think a historian can investigate whether Jesus was actually the coming one. Some of John’s followers may have been disappointed after Jesus’s execution. He wasn’t becoming one who would begin eschatological judgment. Jesus’s followers reinterpreted the kingdom of God might mean (115).

In chapter 5, McGrath deals with John’s death. He begins by stating the famous story of John’s head on a silver platter (Mark 6:14-29; Matt 14:1-12) is a “concoction of Mark” (117). Comparing the Gospel of Mark with Josephus (Ant. 18.116-119), he rightly observes that Herod Antipas angered the Nabatean king Aretas IV when he divorced the king’s daughter to marry Herodias. Aretas then defeated Antipas in battle, a victory in the eyes of many people vindicated the preaching of John the Baptist. Therefore, Antipas had John arrested and executed. The gospel of Mark shifts the blame from Antipas to Herodias, which is less plausible from McGrath. He suggests that Mark draws a parallel between Antipas and Pilate. Pilate also yielded to pressure to execute Jesus, and Mark shifted the blame for the execution from Pilate to the Jews. Josephus also reports that John was taken to the Herodian fortress at Machaerus near the Dead Sea. McGrath finds this “extremely unlikely.” If Herod held a banquet with his officials, it would have been in Tiberius (127). In addition, Mark reports that John’s disciples took charge of the body, unlikely if John was held in the remote fortress of Machaerus.

An important aspect of this book is that McGrath takes the Mandean literature seriously as a source of information about John the Baptist. He suggests the “best way to get behind the later developments to what Jon himself did is by triangulating from things that Mandean and Christian baptism share in common” (60). For some readers, this might be their first hearing of the Mandeans. I suggest Edmondo F. Lupieri, The Mandaeans: The Last Gnostics (Eerdmans, 2001) as an excellent introduction to this obscure Gnostic sect. He cites an example from the Mandean Book of John, which describes “a fisher who summons the poor” and enthrones his disciples after they rise. “You will likely have noticed some striking similarities to language. Jesus used in reference to discipleship” in this Mandean text, “most likely because John the Baptist used it” (72). He suggests that when Jesus used the phrase “fisher of people,” he was “deliberately echoing John’s language” (72).  Mandean sources do not report John’s violent death. Rather, a celestial messenger removes John’s spirit from his flesh, adding a “gnostic angle” (134).

The final chapter, “No One is Greater than John,” traces the trajectories of John’s influence from the first century to our own world. He begins with the gospel of John, which is “readily intelligible as a polemic against the followers of John thought they had no need of Jesus” (142). The chapter includes expansions in the pseudepigraphic Infancy Gospel of James and in Manicheism, Judaism, Islam, the Mandeans, and the Theosophical movement in the early nineteenth century (which was sparked by the rediscovery and publication of Mandean literature).

Throughout the book, McGrath relates experiences from his year-long sabbatical studying John the Baptist. He had the opportunity to visit many of the sites in Israel and Jordan related to the Baptist and his movement. These are always fascinating, even more so after seeing much of this happen in real-time on McGrath’s social media. The book might have been enhanced by including maps or photographs of key locations.

Christmaker is a companion volume to McGrath’s forthcoming John of History, Baptist of Faith: The Quest for the Historical Baptizer (due October 2024). This is the source of my main frustration with Christmaker. There are many times in the book where McGrath asserts something that needs additional support, making me wonder if his point is valid. For example, he assumes a close connection between baptism and healing (62). I do not see this in the New Testament. John the Baptist did not have a reputation as a healer, and there are only a few examples of washing related to healing in Jesus’s ministry (John 9, for example). None of these examples are baptisms like John’s (and lack explicit reference to forgiveness of sin). This lack of detailed argument (and footnotes) makes sense since the book is intended for a broad, non-academic market. Many of these questions will likely be answered when John of History is published.

Conclusion: Can you say anything new about John the Baptist? Apparently, quite a bit. McGrath suggests in the introduction to the volume that many doubt whether a biography of John the Baptist can be written based on the data available. By taking data from Mandean sources seriously, McGrath draws on a larger database than most monographs on John the Baptist. Whether or not readers agree with McGrath’s view that Jesus was John’s disciple or that Jesus taught the gist of John’s message, this book will challenge common assumptions about John the Baptist.

Bonus: Check out this interview with McGrath on EerdWorld.

 

NB: Thanks to Eerdmans for kindly providing me with a review copy of this book. This did not influence my thoughts regarding the work.

Acts 19:2-7 – Disciples of John the Baptist

Luke intended this paragraph to be read along with the previous unit, the introduction of Apollos as a disciple of John. Just as Luke contrasted Barnabas with Ananias in 4:36-28 and 5:1-2, Apollos and the other disciples of John stand in contrast. One disciple heard John and accepted Jesus as the Messiah (although not fully understanding the implications of the resurrection, most likely with respect for Gentile salvation), the other disciples heard John but were ignorant of Jesus and the Holy Spirit.

John the Baptist The dozen disciples of John indicate that even 20 years after John’s death there was a movement among the Jews that held John to be a prophet and in some way kept his teachings alive. Perhaps the gospel of John gives us a similar hint, especially if it can be shown that John wrote from Ephesus near the end of the first century.

These disciples cannot be considered Christians at this point since they had not yet received the Holy Spirit. While Luke only uses “disciple” for believers in every other case in Acts, his use of μαθητής here is without a definite article, the such example in Acts. At the very least these are unusual Christians, perhaps “fringe” Christians, similar to the “unusual, fringes of Judaism described in the first half of the book. Paul’s question – did you receive the Holy Spirit – is equivalent to asking, “are you believers?” Not only have these disciples not received the Holy Spirit, they do not even know that there is a Holy Spirit!

Paul asked them “into whom” or “into what” they were baptized. The NIV obscures this a bit, interpreting the question as “who baptized you,” rather than “what was the medium in which you were baptized.” Witherington comments that the image of being immersed into the Holy Spirit was common in the early church, (see Rom 6:3, 1 Cor 1:13, 15, 10:2, 12:13, Gal 3:27). His point is that the “whom” of this verse cannot refer to water; he sees the baptism of the Holy Spirit as entry into saving faith, while baptism in water is entry into the Christian community (Acts, 571).

Since they had been baptized “in John’s baptism,” Paul explains that John’s baptism was not enough, it was a “baptism of repentance,” which looked forward to the ministry of Jesus.  One could not be saved at this point in history only by accepting the message of John, it is only through faith in Jesus that one can be saved (as Acts has made abundantly clear prior to this point in the book!)

As has happened at several points in the book of Acts already, there is a manifestation of the Holy Spirit (tongues and prophesy) after Paul lays hands on these disciples. There is no consistent “order of events” in Acts, sometimes the Spirit comes prior to baptism (10:44-48, Cornelius) and other times baptism is prior (19:1-7), and in the case of Apollos, there is no mention of a re-baptism or of the coming of the Spirit. Perhaps this is because he properly understood the message of John as pointing forward to Jesus, but that is not clear.

In fact, this is the only case of re-baptism in the New Testament, even the twelve were not re-baptized into the name of Jesus, they only had experienced the baptism of John (although one wonders about Matthew, since he was called to be an Apostle after John’s ministry.) The point of this brief narrative is to show that it is possible to have a limited knowledge of Jesus which is not enough to be saved – theologically there was nothing wrong with these disciples except that they did not quite believe enough.  They did not believe something that was wrong, but they did not take their belief to the full extent needed for salvation.

Here is another problem for Applying Acts – what do we make of these disciples? Are these disciples “partial believers” who have participated in a ritual (John’s Baptism) but did not believe enough to be actually Christians? What is it that “saved” these disciples? In any case, it is the reception of the Holy Spirit which demonstrates they are in fact now Christians.

The First Witnesses to the Birth of the Savior – Luke 2:8-20

Linus reading the Christmas Story in the original Charlie Brown Christmas Special is one of my favorite Christmas memories. There is something about hearing the appearance of the angels to the shepherds in the King James Version and hearing phrases like, “and they were sore afraid.” Why were shepherds the first Witnesses to the Birth? Why announce the savior’s birth to them first and not kings or priests?

First Witnesses to the BirthShepherds are sometimes considered “the common folk” and perhaps representative of the most sinful of people. It is true that Luke especially highlights the poor and shows how Jesus had a special ministry to the downtrodden. But the evidence that shepherds were sinners is late (fifth century AD), and the New Testament always presents shepherds in a good light (church leaders are shepherds, as are Moses and David in the Hebrew Bible).

Perhaps this is the first (of many) examples of the ministry of the Messiah to the lowly, as predicted in another song in Luke. Mary’s song in Luke 1:46-55 predicted the messiah would “humble the proud and exalt the humble” (1:52). That the announcement of the messiah’s birth was made first to a group of shepherds is a remarkable indication that the lowly are “being raised up.”

Since these are shepherds in the vicinity of Bethlehem, it is quite likely that there is a subtle reference to David, a shepherd who became king of Israel. The original leader of the nation, Moses, also spent forty years as a shepherd before shepherding Israel into the wilderness.

The angel appears with the glory of the Lord and announces the “good news” of the birth of a savior. In the Roman world, one would expect the “good news” to concern the birth of a son to the emperor or an announcement concerning a great victory over an enemy. But this announcement does not concern the birth of a son to the emperor in Rome, but rather the birth of the real king who will defeat the real enemy of all people, sin and death itself.

The song of the angelic host draws on themes from the Hebrew Bible. The “heavenly host” is an angelic army, or at the very least an uncountable number of angels around the throne of God (1 Kings 22:18). That God should be glorified is not a surprise, nor is the fact that he is glorified in heaven (in the “highest” is euphemistic for heaven.” For example, God brings peace, which is also common in the Hebrew Bible (Psalm 29:11 and 86:8-10).

Those who are receiving this good news are described as those on whom God’s favor rests. “reflects a semitechnical Semitic expression referring to God’s people and having overtones of election and of God’s active initiative in extending his favor” (Nolland, Matthew, 109).  This phrase too is drawn from key texts in the Hebrew Bible, see Psalm 106:4 for example.

But there is also a subtle reference to the Roman Empire here as well. Augustus, the first emperor, was the “Bringer of Peace” in the Roman world. It was Augustus who established Pax Romana, the peace of Rome. Although this was propaganda (Rome was always at war along the borders), for most people living at the time Jesus was born, the Empire was at peace and secure. The armies of Rome guaranteed this peace. Augustus was often called savior on official coinage, and the Roman calendar was arranged to mark his birthday. People sang hymns of praise and worship to the spirit of Augustus and the power of his kingdom, Rome.

It is, therefore, ironic that the angel announced the birth of the real savior of the world who will bring real peace to the world to the young shepherds near a tiny village in the unremarkable backwater of the Roman Empire. Anyone who puts their faith in Rome and Roman power will be humbled by the sudden appearance of the real King, Jesus.

This is an important message for Christians every year, but perhaps this year, it is even more urgent. There is no peace and safety to be found in the government of any empire, whether that is Rome or America. No human leader can really guarantee prosperity for all. If the angelic announcement of the birth of Jesus teaches us anything, it should be the very biblical story that God’s kingdom will overcome the kingdom of man, so to rely on the empire of man is foolish indeed!

God Will Visit His People – Luke 1:68

christmas, zechariah, elizabethZechariah is the father of John the Baptist. Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth were childless and too old to have any children, yet Zechariah is told by an angel of the Lord that his wife will have a child, and that child will be a prophet in the power of Elijah, and that he will be the forerunner of the Messiah. Zechariah questions this prophecy, since it seems impossible to him. He is told by the angel Gabriel that because he doubted the word of God, he will not speak until the day that the child is born. On the day the child was to be named, Zechariah was again able to speak, and we are told that the Holy Spirit filled him, and he prophesied these words.

It is important to note that these are the words of the Holy Spirit spoken through Zechariah to the people that were gathered in the temple for John’s circumcision. They would have all been familiar with the prophecies of the Old Testament concerning the coming of the Messiah. In this ten verse section there are at least 16 allusions to the Old Testament, making it clear that John’s birth, and more importantly, the birth of Jesus three months away, would be the fulfillment of the hopes of Israel.

These words are spoken for John and about John, but John the Baptist was merely the precursor to Jesus, and all he did pointed forward to Jesus. Even in this solemn prayer of dedication at his circumcision, John is pointing the way to the Messiah. This section is centered upon the actions of God. With the birth of John, and later of Jesus, God “has come to his people.”

The word Zechariah uses for “has come” is literally “visited” (ἐπισκέπτομαι). The word has the connotation of an inspection or examination.  Zechariah is saying that God is about to come to inspect his people.  In the Old Testament, when God “visited” his people, it could be to bring them some sort of blessing, or it could be to bring the judgment.  In Exodus 3:16 God has “observed” the suffering of his people (ESV, same word appears in the LXX), and in this case he is about to rescue his people from their slavery.

Zechariah’s words are therefore a prophetic warning that in the near future God would visit his people, and that “visitation” might not be a time of great blessing and favor.  God may be visiting in judgment!  There is an element of foreshadowing in Zechariah’s words:  at the end of Jesus’ ministry he weeps over Jerusalem because they did not recognize that “this day” was the time of God’s “visitation” (ἐπισκοπή, a noun from the same root as 1:68).  Sadly, the people did not heed the warning and were unprepared for God’s inspection.

This is what happened with the birth of Jesus:  God has literally come to man.  By becoming flesh Jesus was able to offer to his people ultimate forgiveness of sin. We do not usually associate the Christmas story with a time of God’s judgment, but it is significant that this first prophecy of Jesus’ ministry in Luke describes Jesus as the coming judge.