1 Maccabees 9:24-16:24; 2 Maccabees 7; 1 Kings (3 Kingdoms) 5:4; Micah 4:4; Zechariah 8:4; Ezekiel 34:27; Hebrews 12; Romans 4:17
We have already devoted two episodes to the first nine chapters of 1 Maccabees. There we saw the witness of the patriarch Mattathias, and the prowess of his son Judas, who made a good start to freeing the Temple from the godless oppression of Antiochus Epiphanes IV. Following Judas, we can read in 1 Maccabees 9:24-16:24 of the courage and political savvy of Judas’ brothers Jonathan and Simon, who took Judas’ liberation of Judea to a new level, and actually provided a space of about 100 years liberty for the Jewish people.
Jonathan and Simon used both their brawn and their brains, negotiating with the Gentiles (including the Spartans!) around them who were vying for control of the land. Through such negotiations, they provided a fragile peace for their own people. Early in the process, there is even a bidding war to make an alliance with the Jewish people by two Gentile leaders who were seeking military control of the area. Both Jonathan and Simon are well aware that the Gentile leaders can promise them the moon, and operate shrewdly throughout this time of flux. Throughout these chapters, we see them forming alliances with those who will allow the Jewish people a modicum of self-rule. They even join in the ongoing messy battles of Demetrius, Antiochus, Alexander Epiphanes (son of Antiochus) and Demetrius II, seeking benefit for the Jewish people. After years of unrest, broken by real advances towards peace, we read this concluding statement about the accomplishments of Simon, who became both military leader and high priest during this uneasy time:
The land had rest all the days of Simon. He sought the good of his nation; his rule was pleasing to them, as was the honor shown him, all his days. To crown all his honors he took Joppa for a harbor, and opened a way to the isles of the sea. He extended the borders of his nation, and gained full control of the country. He gathered a host of captives; he ruled over Gazara and Beth-zur and the citadel, and he removed its uncleanness from it; and there was none to oppose him. They tilled their land in peace; the ground gave its increase, and the trees of the plains their fruit. Old men sat in the streets; they all talked together of good things; and the youths donned the glories and garments of war. He supplied the cities with food, and furnished them with the means of defense, till his renown spread to the ends of the earth. He established peace in the land, and Israel rejoiced with great joy. Each man sat under his vine and his fig tree, and there was none to make them afraid. No one was left in the land to fight them, and the kings were crushed in those days. He strengthened all the humble of his people; he sought out the law, and did away with every lawless and wicked man. He made the sanctuary glorious, and added to the vessels of the sanctuary.
(1 Macc. 14:4-15)
The high praise of this passage for Simon shows his concern not only for the strength of his land, but for the peace of the ordinary person, the removal of “renegade” Jews who had forgotten the Torah, and the holiness of the Temple. Here we find echoes of the Old Testament, from the “time of rest” associated with Solomon’s rule (1 Kings/3 Kingdoms 5:4) to the idyllic time anticipated by the prophets:
“Every man shall sit under his own vine and fig tree” (cf. Micah 4:4)
“Old men sat in the streets; they all talked together of good things” (cf. Zechariah 8:4)
“They tilled their land in peace; the ground gave its increase, and the trees of the plains their fruit” (cf. Ezekiel 34:27)
1 Maccabees ends its description of Simon’s accomplishments in a kind of a vision of peace and blessedness after a long period of turmoil. We may be reminded of works such as the epic Lord of the Rings, whichends with an idyllic Hobbiton after Saruman and Sauron have been removed from power.
Parallel to this story of military might, political dealing, and heroic courage, there runs another kind of story that shows a different kind of heroism and courage, much as the war of Gondor and Rohan in Tolkien’s epic is paralleled by the self-sacrifice of Frodo and Sam. Alongside the large story of war and peace are instances of martyrdom, accepted with the hope of the resurrection. We catch glimpses of this kind of faithful self-sacrifice in 1 Maccabees, where we hear of the death of innocents and the bloodthirsty actions of the tyrants who are determined to stamp out Jewish faith and resilience. But far more detail of this side of the narrative is given in 2 Maccabees, a book written later than 1 Maccabees, and that became particularly beloved by the early Christians and the fathers for its examples of pre-Christian martyrdom for the truth.
The Orthodox church, indeed, commemorates the brave mother Solomonia and her seven sons on August 1 each year. This is an ancient holy day, kept also by Western Christians, and important for us in registering the continuity between the old covenant and the new. 2 Maccabees presents their martyrdom as a kind of catalyst for the actions of Judas Maccabeus, twinning the stories of the warriors and the martyrs together as one. The story of these martyrs was well-enough known that it is even alluded to at the end of the roll call of faith in Hebrews:
And what more shall I say? For time would fail me to tell of [those] who through faith conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, received promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched raging fire, escaped the edge of the sword, won strength out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. Women received their dead by resurrection. Some were tortured, refusing to accept release, that they might rise again to a better life. Others suffered mocking and scourging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were killed with the sword; they went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, ill-treated— of whom the world was not worthy— wandering over deserts and mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth. And all these, though well attested by their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had foreseen something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect. Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 11:33-12:2 RSV)
Let these words echo in our ears! “Some were tortured, refusing to accept release, that they might rise again to a better life. Others suffered mocking and scourging, and even chains and imprisonment.” Consider the exploits of all these men and women who are not even named in Hebrews! Each one of them would provide great raw material for a historical novel, or a study in martyrdom. Time would fail anyone to tell the story of each of them. The passage in Hebrews appears to be remembering particularly the story of the seven Maccabean brothers and their mother, who is not named in 2 Maccabees: but we have, from the Orthodox tradition, a name of “Solomonia” for the mother. This name is particularly appropriate for her character, her wisdom and her forthrightness, as she spoke in truth for God. In the narrative, as she encourages her sons to stand fast during their martyrdom, she speaks with great insight and courage about God’s creating and resurrecting power. It is these words, it seems, that gave her the title “prophetess” among early Church fathers such as Hilary of Poitiers (On the Trinity 4:16). Consider her spunk and perceptivity in a snippet of their colorful story, from 2 Maccabees 7:
The mother was especially admirable and worthy of honorable memory. Though she saw her seven sons perish within a single day, she bore it with good courage because of her hope in the Lord. She encouraged each of them in the language of their fathers. Filled with a noble spirit, she fired her woman’s reasoning with a man’s courage, and said to them, “I do not know how you came into being in my womb. It was not I who gave you life and breath, nor I who set in order the elements within each of you. Therefore the Creator of the world, who shaped the beginning of man and devised the origin of all things, will in his mercy give life and breath back to you again, since you now forget yourselves for the sake of his laws.” Antiochus felt that he was being treated with contempt by the family, and he was suspicious of her reproachful tone. The youngest brother being still alive, Antiochus not only appealed to him in words, but promised with oaths that he would make him rich and enviable if he would turn from the ways of his fathers, and that he would take him for his friend and entrust him with public affairs.
Since the young man would not listen to him at all, the king called the mother to him and urged her to advise the youth to save himself. After much urging on his part, she undertook to persuade her son. But, leaning close to him, she spoke in their native tongue as follows, deriding the cruel tyrant: “My son, have pity on me. I carried you nine months in my womb, and nursed you for three years, and have reared you and brought you up to this point in your life, and have taken care of you. I beseech you, my child, to look at the heaven and the earth and see everything that is in them, and recognize that God did not make them out of things that existed. Thus also mankind comes into being. Do not fear this butcher, but prove worthy of your brothers. Accept death, so that in God’s mercy I may get you back again with your brothers.” (2Maccabees 7:20-29 RSV)
What drama there is in this situation! The mother speaks to her boy privately in their own language, and the pagan King cannot understand her words. He does hear her tone, and suspects something is up: but even if he could have understood what she was saying, he would have listened with utter astonishment and incomprehension. His strategy has been to torture each of the youths before her eyes, until finally she begs them to act against their conscience and do what the tyrant wants—commit idolatry! Instead, she is filled “with a noble spirit’—surely with the Holy Spirit Himself, though our early Jewish writer is not aware of this third person of the Trinity. Strengthened by the life-giving Comforter, she joins together the best of all that it is to be human—courage with insight—and she speaks with eloquence about the difference between God’s great creative power and her own humble part in bearing children.
These seven youths are God’s own, and not hers first and foremost—even her conception and childbearing are mysterious to her, for it is God who creates. Indeed, she closes off her encouragement to her youngest son by being very specific about God’s power—he has made the cosmos out of nothing! Frequently we credit Paul (Romans 4:17) and the letter to the Hebrews (11:3) for first clarifying this meaning of Genesis, that God did not create out of existing matter, as some pagan stories suggest, but that He created from nothing. (In fact, in many theological schools and colleges, teachers of Genesis suggest that the grammar of the first two verse of the Bible may easily be read as suggesting that God worked on pre-existent matter!) As Christians, of course, we interpret the Scriptures through the apostles, and both Romans and Hebrews make it clear that God’s creation was completely ex nihilo. He was not a mere divine craftsman, like pagan deities who used, for example, the carcass of a primordial monster, or stones, to make the world and people. God called into being those things that had NO being, in utter creative power. But the earliest clear statement of the doctrine comes from this brave prophetess, it would seem, as she encouraged her sons to hope for the resurrection. She knew that if they died bravely, she would have them back again, glorified by God! God has made her sons for the purpose of glorifying Him, not merely to give her comfort: “God will in his mercy give life and breath back to you again,” she counsels them, “since you now forget yourselves for the sake of his laws.” So, even before the time of the New Testament, this brave and perspicacious woman had a clear understanding of God’s nature, power, and love. She looks back to creation, and forward to the new creation, and speaks boldly on behalf of the God whom she worships!
With Judas, Jonathan, and Simon, we get one kind of wisdom (an awareness of the political world around them) and the courage of warriors; with Solomonia and her boys we get another wisdom (showing awareness of the world to come) and the valor of martyrs Both groups witness to God’s care for His people, and hold fast to his truth; their different actions and approaches show us the largeness of the family of God, and we are called to faithfulness in different modes. But, I would venture to say, it is the picture of the martyr-witnesses that most directly informs our faith today, inspiring us to live for the truth with the picture of the world to come firmly fixed in our minds. Judas and his brothers brought a modicum of peace, carving out a space so that the Jewish people could contemplate God’s word under their fig trees and vines, at least until the Roman conquerors arrived on the scene. The martyred family, however, leaves for us an even more shining example of those who looked beyond earthly peace to the rest that only God can give, and that never ends. Through their example, let us learn to “forget ourselves,” in the words of the wise mother, for the sake of the One who has given Himself for us.
Edith M. Humphrey 