Love and romance.

I’m posting this article on St. Valentine’s Day, a feast day named for several ancient Christian martyrs named Valentine: Bishop Valentinus of Terni, Presbyter Valentinus of Rome, Valentinus of Raetia, Valentinus of Genoa, Valentinus the hermit, and Valentinus of North Africa. All their stories and myths got frapped together… and nobody cares about ’em anyway, ’cause Valentine’s Day is a commercial holiday. It’s meant to get people to buy stuff, or make various other expensive materialistic declarations of love, for the person they’re currently boning.

By “love” I mean one of the eight definitions of love. On Valentine’s Day, among Christians who know charity is the sort of love God is, the sort of love the scriptures point to… there might be some expressions of that: They love their partners with godly love. They want the best for their loved ones, even if that means sacrificing themselves. They expect nothing in return; it’s not a love which expects, even demands, reciprocity. They really do love like God does. Or strive to.

But Valentine’s Day isn’t at all about that sort of love. It’s about the romantic sort. It’s what the ancient Greeks meant by ἔρος/éros, the desire one has for the objects of their affection or infatuation, the desire lovers have for one another. (Éros is where we get our English word erotic.)

C.S. Lewis spent a quarter of his 1960 book The Four Loves on éros, and when Christians speak on love, a lot of times we likewise spend a chunk of time discussing éros. Although what we tend to do, incorrectly, is bash it.

1. First we define it as romantic love, erotic love, or lust.
2. Then we point out éros isn’t in the bible. (’Cause it’s not. Neither in the New Testament, nor the Septuagint.) It’s just a different Greek word for a concept we translate as “love”—which is all Lewis was writing about anyway. He was a classics scholar, after all; not a bible scholar.
3. Then spend the rest of our sermon railing against éros for not being godly love, the ἀγάπη/agápi Paul defined in 1 Corinthians 13.

Expect all that to be part of nearly every Valentine’s Day sermon. Oh wait; let me throw in an extra bonus point:

4. Some preachers will insist éros and romance aren’t any sort of “love.” Therefore we should only use the word “love” to mean agápi, to mean having patience and kindness and self-control and gentleness and all that other stuff Paul wrote. Romance isn’t love. Lust certainly isn’t love. So when people incorrectly use the word “love” to describe such things, correct ’em. “That’s romance. That’s lust. Not love. Real love is agápi.”

Sound about right?

But if you actually read The Four Loves you’ll notice Lewis didn’t define éros as romance or lust.

John the baptist’s message for everyone else.

Mark 1.7-8, Matthew 3.11-12, Luke 3.10-20, John 1.26-28.

Previously I dealt with what John the baptist had to say to religious folks—people who already followed God, or at least were active in temple and synagogue. John didn’t come to preach to them; they already had prophets, and shouldn’t need to come to John and repent. He came to reach the people who had no relationship with God, who needed to get ready for their coming Messiah.

But you might notice Luke describes John’s message to the religious folks as being directed towards everyone. Religious and irreligious alike.

Luke 3.7-14 KWL

7John is saying this

to the crowds coming to be baptized by him:

“You² viper-spawn!

Who warned you² to escape the wrath of God?

8Fine then: Produce worthy fruits,

from repentant people.

Don’t start to tell yourselves²,

‘We have a father in Abraham’:

I tell you² God can raise up children for Abraham

from these rocks.

9The axe already lays at the root of the tree.

So every tree not producing good fruit

is cut down and thrown into fire.”

10The crowds are questioning John,

saying, “So what can we do?”

11 In reply John tells them,

“You² who have two tunics:

Share with those who don’t.

You² who have food:

Do likewise.”

12Taxmen come to be baptized

and tell John, “Teacher, what can we do?”

13John tells them,

“Do nothing more than you were ordered.”

14 Soldiers are questioning John,

saying, “And we, what can we do?”

John tells them, “You² could stop shaking people down,

or stop accusing them falsely.

Be content with your paychecks.”

I explained the whole worthy fruits, making Abraham’s children from rocks, and axe at the foot of the tree stuff in the previous article. Here Luke includes John’s corrections to the people who came to him for baptism.

In general the problem is stinginess. The crowds needed to share their food and clothing with the needy. Yes, the Law had a sort of welfare system built in so farmers would leave gleanings for the needy, Lv 19.9-10 and so every third-year’s tithes would go to the needy. Dt 14.28 But then, same as now, people don’t bother to do any more than their obligations, and share food and clothing only with people we consider worthy—not so much needy. Loving our neighbor Lv 19.18 gets limited to thinking pleasant thoughts about them, not doing for them. It’s an attitude which always needs breaking.

The taxmen (KJV “publicans,” although Julius Cæsar abolished the publican rank in 30BC; NLT “corrupt tax collectors”) were customs agents. They sat in booths at ports and city gates, and charged everyone a fee to get in. Merchants especially: Usually 2 to 5 percent of whatever they were selling. (Which added up, especially when you transported goods from city to city.) Taxmen were usually already-wealthy men who bought their commissions from the city officials (usually Roman), because it was such a lucrative job. One of the perqs was the ability to set the rates above what the city required, and pocket the difference. Or cheat the merchants with faulty scales, and again pocket the difference. It’s why they were so hated. And why they knew they needed to repent. “Don’t steal” is one of the 10 commandments, y’know.

Lastly soldiers. Who were likely—and kinda surprisingly—Roman soldiers. This is the first time we see gentiles really getting involved in the gospel, but Luke wanted to make it clear in his gospels (both Luke and Acts) that God’s kingdom is likewise for gentiles. And interestingly, John initially responded to them with what they could do, not commands: They could be more fair and just in their duties, instead of hassling the locals and trying to rob them. As gentiles, they weren’t under the Law, so John couldn’t command them to follow it in quite the same way. But like the taxmen, they also knew they needed to repent.

John the baptist’s message for the religious.

Didn’t sound too pleased with them.

Matthew 3.7-10 • Luke 3.7-9 • John 1.19-23

In Matthew and Luke’s parallel stories, John the baptist comes across a bit hostile towards the religious folks who come to check him out.

Matthew 3.7-10 KWL

7 Seeing many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to his baptism, John told them,

“You viper-spawn! Who warned you to escape the wrath of God?

8 Fine then: Produce worthy fruit, from repentant people.

9 Don’t presume to tell yourselves, ‘We have a father in Abraham’:

From these rocks, I tell you, God can raise up children for Abraham.

10 The axe lays at the root of the tree right now.

So every tree not producing good fruit is cut down and thrown into fire.”

Luke 3.7-9 KWL

7 John said this to the crowds coming to be baptized by him:

“You viper-spawn! Who warned you to escape the wrath of God?

8 Fine then: Produce worthy fruits, from repentant people.

Don’t start to tell yourselves, ‘We have a father in Abraham’:

From these rocks, I tell you, God can raise up children for Abraham.

9 Plus, the axe lays at the root of the tree right now.

So every tree not producing good fruit is cut down and thrown into fire.”

In John, not so much, but then again they’re not there to prejudge him, but find out just who he claims to be.

John 1.19-23 KWL

19 This is John’s testimony when the Judeans sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem

so they could ask him, “Who are you?”

20 He conferred with them, and didn’t refuse to answer: “I’m not Messiah.”

21 They questioned John: “Then what? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I’m not.”

“Are you the Prophet?” He answered, “No.”

22 So they told him, “Then what?—so we can give an answer to those who sent us.

What do you say about yourself?”

23 John said, “I’m the voice shouting in the wilderness, ‘Straighten the Master’s road!’ Is 40.3

like the prophet Isaiah said.”

These folks would be:

• Pharisees, whom I dealt with elsewhere. These are the religious Jews, as opposed to the irreligious, secular Jews. Many were actually trying to follow God. And same as us Christians, many were hypocrites, faking it for social and political acceptance. Jesus sparred with the hypocrites a lot, but don’t get the wrong idea all Pharisees were that way.
• Sadducees. Our present-day equivalent would be those pagans who call themselves “spiritual but not religious”—they believe in God, but not religion. Freakishly, these are the folks who ran the religion: The head priest, his family, and the leading families of Jerusalem, were in this camp. They believed in God and the Law, but not the supernatural: No angels, miracles, afterlife, End Times, resurrection, or prophets beyond Moses. Just God.
• Levites. You may have heard Israel had 12 tribes. They actually had 13, and Levi was the weird 13th tribe which had no land, lived in cities, and took turns serving in temple. Only Levites could be priests, and John was a Levite himself. Some were Pharisees, some Sadducees, some in other denominations. But all were involved in temple.
• “The crowds.” In Luke John is hostile to everybody, not just religious folks. Everybody gets slammed with his preaching. No exceptions. But it’s fair to say most of them were Pharisees, which I’ll explain in a bit.

John’s reaction to them was essentially, “What’re you doing here? Aren’t you saved already?”

The ministry of John the baptist.

Mark 1.2-6, Matthew 3.1-6, Luke 3.1-6.

Jesus’s story begins with John bar Zachariah, “the baptist.” (As opposed to “the Baptist,” meaning someone from the Baptist movement, which takes its customs of believer-baptism and full immersion from John’s practice.)

Mark 1.2-5 KWL

2Like it’s written in the prophet Isaiah:

“Look, I send my agent to your¹ face,

who’ll prepare your¹ road.” Ml 3.1

3“A voice shouting out in the wilderness:

‘Prepare the Lord’s road!

Make him a straight path!’ ” Is 40.3

4 John the baptist comes into the wilderness,

preaching a baptism of repentance—

to have one’s sins forgiven.

5The whole Judean country,

all Jerusalemites, go out to him

and are baptized by him in the Jordan River,

confessing their sins.

Matthew 3.1-3 KWL

1In those days John the baptist appears,

preaching in the Judean wilderness,

2saying, “Repent!

For heaven’s kingdom has come near.”

3For this is the word through the prophet Isaiah, saying,

“A voice shouting out in the wilderness:

‘Prepare the Lord’s road!

Make him a straight path!’ ” Is 40.3

Luke 3.1-6 KWL

1In the 15th year of Cæsar Tiberius’s governance,

Pontius Pilatus governing Judea,

Herod Antipas as governor over the Galilee,

Herod Philip his brother as governor over Ituría and Trachonítis provinces,

Lysanias as governor over Abiliní,

2Annas and Joseph Kahiáfa as head priests,

God’s message came through John bar Zechariah,

in the wilderness.

3John went into all the land round the Jordan,

preaching a baptism of repentance—

to have one’s sins forgiven—

4like the prophet Isaiah’s sayings,

written in the bible:

“A voice shouting out in the wilderness:

‘Prepare the Lord’s road!

Make him a straight path!’

5All ravines will be filled.

All roads and hills knocked down.

The crooked will be straightened.

The rough into smooth roads.

6All flesh will see God’s salvation.” Is 40.3-5

John doesn’t come first just ’cause of the chronology—John was prophesied to his father before Jesus was to his mother; John was born before Jesus; John’s ministry began before Jesus’s. The chronology was kinda irrelevant, because as John himself pointed out, Jesus existed before he did. Jn 1.30 And as the gospel of John points out, the word of God, the light of the world: John came to testify about that light, and point people to him.

That was John’s job. He was Jesus’s opening act.

Yeah, Christians tend to call him Jesus’s forerunner. Which he kinda was. But a “forerunner” in antiquity was simply the guy who ran way in front of the caravan—which could be of a visiting lord or invading army—and announce they’re coming. Again, John kinda was that. But he didn’t just proclaim Messiah, or God’s kingdom, was coming. He got people ready for the coming, by getting ’em to repent, by washing them clean first.

Christians also tend to call him Jesus’s herald. He was kinda that too. But a herald came instead of the person whose message he brought. You know, like prophets tell us what God’s saying, instead of (or in addition to) God telling us what he’s saying. John wasn’t a substitute for the Messiah he preceded; he said his superior was coming right behind him, and he considered himself unworthy to take Messiah’s shoes off. Mk 1.7 But Jesus would soon speak for himself.

John’s ministry began, as Luke pins it down, in the year 28, when both John and Jesus (figuring they were born in 7BC or so) were about 34 years old. He’s described as being in the ἐρήμῳ/erímo, undeveloped, unfarmed land—places where people neither lived nor worked, and couldn’t drive John off as a nuisance. We might call it the countryside or go with the KJV’s “wilderness.” There, John announced the kingdom was coming. So people, get ready!

The bible in “the original Greek”: The Septuagint.

SEPTUAGINT sɛp'tu.ə.dʒɪnt noun. An ancient Greek translation of the Old Testament.

[Septuagintal sɛp.tu.ə'dʒɪnt.əl adjective.]

When you read the New Testament, and one of the apostles quotes the Old Testament, most of the time they’re not translating it from the original Hebrew. They’re quoting a Greek translation.

There wasn’t just one translation. Same as English versions of the bible nowadays, different translators had taken different shots at putting the Hebrew scriptures into Greek. Some Greek-speaking Jew in Jerusalem might put together something like a “King Jonathan’s Version,” or KJV; some Greek-speaking Jew in Egypt might’ve cobbled together an “Egyptian Standard Version,” or ESV; some curious gentile in Laodicea might’ve put together a “New Laodicean Translation,” or NLT… I could come up with more hypothetical reasons for these familiar initials, but you get the gist. But over time, copyists smooshed all these different Greek bibles together into one sorta-kinda-the-standard copy, and we call it the Septuagint.

Why’s it called the Septuagint? Funny story. According to a Pharisee legend, told in the Letter of Aristeas, King Ptolemy Philadelphius of Egypt wanted a copy of the bible for his famous Library of Alexandria. So he asked Jerusalem for translators; they sent him either 70 or 72 scribes, who cleverly answered Ptolemy’s test questions and got the job. Each were given their own room, got to translating, and when done all their translations miraculously matched, word-for-word. Therefore this is an inspired, inerrant translation of the bible. (Oh, and septuaginta is Latin for 70. It’s why people tend to use the abbreviation LXX, the Roman 70, for the Septuagint.)

Yeah, it’s as bogus as the myth KJV-only adherents have for their favorite translation. Because if it really were an infallible version of the bible, the New Testament authors would’ve quoted it, and only it, for their scriptures. Instead some apostles quoted it. And others translated the Hebrew for themselves. Paul went back and forth. Seems sometimes he just didn’t care for the way the Septuagint put it, and decided to phrase the original Hebrew in his own way.