How can this be since I am a virgin?

This Christmas will be my first as a dad. I remember the surreal experience of walking out of the hospital carrying my newborn son, thinking: ‘Is someone going to stop me? Am I just allowed to walk out of here with this ‘lil guy?’ That first cautious drive home made me realise the weight of parental responsibility almost immediately. Many newborn animals are capable of doing things for themselves but in His divine wisdom God has made it such that human beings, the most intelligent of all creatures, begin our lives utterly helpless. Reflecting on this point of helplessness has led me to a new appreciation of the Christmas story this year. God became a baby; a clingy, teething, drooling baby boy, utterly helpless and dependent on mummy and daddy. God. G.O.D. – the One who said “Let there be light” and there was light (Gen. 1:3), the One who “upholds all things by the word of His power” (Heb. 1:3) – that Being of beings chose subjection to conception to be born a babe! And the ward of His royal delivery? A cow shed located in a rural, hick town on the geographical and societal fringes of the known world.

That Christians believe in a Saviour who subjected Himself to such a helpless human state almost defies reason – almost, but not quite. For a paradox is not a contradiction and a mystery is more indicative of ignorance than irrationality. To stretch beyond reason is one thing, to cut against it is quite another and I would submit that in the mystery of the virgin birth we have a seed that provides a powerful reason for believing it to be true. Who would make up this story if they could? And who could if they would?

Strictly speaking, the birth of Jesus is not a doctrine; a codified body of teachings or instructions. It is a claim of historical fact about the occurrence of God’s worldly entrance through the womb of a young Jewish female apart from the act of sexual intercourse.

In our own day, the idea of a ‘virgin birth’ is not especially fantastic. Whatever the ethical merits, artificial insemination and in vitro fertilisation have overtaken the argument for the necessity of ‘ordinary’ procreation. Still, medical possibilities operating within the laws of science are quite obviously not the issue here. Our locus of interest is not in the virgin birth – unless by some impulse of eager scepticism we find ourselves in the lonely company of Richard Carrier questioning whether Jesus ever existed. Rather, the locus of interest is in Jesus’ virginal conception, as apart from that detail of divine-human contact said to Mary – “the power of the Most High will overshadow you” (Luke 1:35; cf. Matt. 1:20) –, we would be left with a rather mundane story of a first century Jewish birth.

But how is such a claim to be explained? Has the belief and its creedal codifications endured to this day by some error, as legend, as myth? Or is the perpetuation of the belief best explained simply as a matter of historical fact?

Questions about the circumstances surrounding Jesus’ birth are not new. It did not take a course in modern biology for Mary to be perplexed by the announcement that she, “a virgin” (Luke 1:34), would “bear a son” (v. 31). Joseph, too, had his own reservations given the socio-cultural stakes at the time of their betrothal (Matt. 1:19).

By the middle of the second century questions were sharpened into attacks forcing Christian exponents and apologists to respond. Ignatius declared the virginal conception as one of the three “mysteries to be cried aloud!”¹

against the Docetists and their teaching that Jesus’ humanity was illusory; a mere semblance without any real substance. Justin Martyr vigorously defended the conception against those who saw it as a Christian-assimilated pagan tale, like the birth of Perseus from Danaë and Zeus.² Origen records the first attempt at an alternate historical tradition for the conception, the view of Greek philosopher Celsus, a known antagonist of Christianity, who rumoured that Jesus was the bastard by-product of an illicit affair between Mary and a certain Roman soldier named Pantheras.³ Saucy, scandalous, yet lacking any tradition outside of its own, Celsus’ soap opera is widely regarded today as just another example of early anti-Christian polemics. Indeed, by drawing attention to the New Testament claim of Jesus’ virginal conception, all such early conjectures and anti-Christian polemics ended up supporting the very tradition they are supposed to be attacking. Something was up and people were talking. Those devoted to Jesus the Christ believed He was virginally conceived and defended their conviction; those who were opposed attacked the claim, though failed in the process to offer any insuperable objection to the contrary.

Fast forward millennia to the modern day and attitudes to Jesus’ virginal conception aren’t all that different. By the eighteenth century, post-Enlightenment metaphysics and a priori assumptions about the universe as a closed continuum of cause and effect were making their mark across the disciplinary spectrum. Perhaps most famous of all was David Hume’s argument against miracles, which sought an “everlasting check to all kinds of superstitious delusions.”⁴ Amenable to this scientistic spirit, nineteenth century Protestant theologian David Friedrich Strauss substituted historic truths for religious values arguing that all miracles in the gospels originated in myth. In the twentieth century, neo-orthodox theologian Rudolf Bultmann continued the mythological approach to New Testament studies, employing myth as a principle of hermeneutics, writing: “The idea of miracle has, therefore, become untenable and it must be abandoned…”⁵

A clear example of the way the mythological approach has influenced scholarship relating specifically to Jesus’ virginal conception, can be found in the provocative writings of former resident scholar of Harvard Divinity School, John Shelby Spong. In Born of a Woman (1992), Spong writes: “A literalized myth is a doomed myth. Its truth cannot be rescued. Literalism is not even a benign alternative for contemporary Christians. It is, in the modern world, nothing less than an enemy to faith in Jesus Christ.”⁶ More specifically with respect to the infancy narratives of Matthew 1:18-2:12 and Luke 1:26-2:20 themselves, Spong acknowledges points of agreement however is quick to point out that, “the list of different and even contradictory items that separate the two traditions is even longer and more impressive… The minimum conclusion is that both versions cannot be historically accurate. The maximum conclusion… that neither version is historic.”⁷ And to what speculative end does Spong’s non-historical rendering of the infancy narrative lead? To a drama even more scandalous than Celsus’: “A God who can be seen in the limp form of a convicted criminal dying alone on a cross at Calvary can surely also be seen in an illegitimate baby boy born through the aggressive and selfish act of a man sexually violating a teenage girl…”⁸

In modern times, the issue is clearly more ‘epistemic’ than ‘historic;’ more a preoccupation with how Scripture is understood rather that what Scripture actually says. But as it concerns the claim of Jesus’ virginal conception, where has this gotten us? Not very far. From midday TV to late night viewing; from Celsus’ second century M-rated soap opera to Spong’s twentieth century R-rated drama.

Like the objections of old, the ‘new’ simply fail to offer any independent historical tradition of their own to counter what we find in the New Testament narratives.

In saying all of that I do not mean to smugly imply that there are no genuine issues in the infancy narratives that must be worked through. I simply mean to highlight that, while the academic and institutional dexterity of Spong and those of his ilk may intimidate the less credentialed among us (myself included), they need not. Something I learned very early on in my theological training is that the zeitgeist of intelligentsia is always and often unconsciously embattled by prejudices and presuppositions. Of course, those of us who stand with Paul affirming “all scripture is inspired by God” (2 Tim. 3:16) must reckon with our own prejudices and presuppositions. But working within a revelational theistic framework, the kind spoken of by the late Carl F. Henry in which human reason takes its place under God’s revelation as “the instrument for recognising it,” and Scripture as reason’s “verifying principle,” it is possible for us to “exhibit the content of biblical revelation as an orderly whole.”⁹

As it concerns the New Testament claim of Jesus’ virginal conception, two of the more obvious issues we must face are: (1) the silence of the New Testament on the matter, outside of Matthew and Luke; and (2) the issue of divergence between the two infancy narratives of Matthew 1:18-2:12 and Luke 1:26-2:20. There are others, to be sure, but I shall limit my focus to these for now.

The Silence of the New Testament

Outside the infancy narratives provided by Matthew and Luke, there are no explicit references to Jesus’ virginal conception. Some have pointed to John 1:13, Romans 1:3, Galatians 4:4 and Philippians 2:7 as possible allusions. While these are marked by peculiarity of expression, they do not make explicit mention of the event recorded by Matthew and Luke.¹⁰ In any case, it needs to be said that, as an objection to the historicity of Jesus’ virginal birth, the argument from the silence of the New Testament is just that: an argument from silence. It is true that we only have two accounts of Jesus’ infancy, but it is also the case that both of these accounts make explicit mention of His virginal conception. So if nothing else, we can settle the score of 100% attestation from the available records.¹¹

Moreover, there is a case to be made that Jesus’ virginal conception was presupposed by both Mark and John, despite the lack of infancy narratives in their gospel accounts. Consider just one example from John’s gospel. In chapter 8 Jesus identifies Himself as “the Light of the world” (v. 12), saying “I know where I came from” (v. 14) and “the Father… sent me” (v. 16). In response to these assertions, the Pharisees ask Jesus, “Where is Your father?” (v. 19) adding later, “We were not born of fornication; we have one Father: God” (v. 41). Typically, exegetes have interpreted the reference to “father” in verse 41 with a capital ‘F’, as God ‘the Father’ and often associate the phrase “born of fornication” with Old Testament teachings about idolatry. But no less theologians than Augustine and Bede have interpreted the reference to “father” as an ad hominem argument against Jesus’ paternal origin.¹² Given the physical context of Abraham’s seed (vv. 33, 39), contrasted with the Pharisees’ disparaging comments about half-bred Samaritans (v. 48), it seems to me that the hint of bastardy cannot be entirely ignored, the implication being: it is quite possible that even Jesus faced polemics against the circumstances of His birth during His lifetime.

The Issue of Narrative Divergence

A comparative analysis of each detail between Matthew 1:18-2:12 and Luke 1:26-2:20 is not possible here. However, many have undertaken the task and for those interested, I’d recommend both James Orr’s The Virgin Birth of Jesus (1907) and J. Gresham Machen’s The Virgin Birth of Christ (1932). Both works offer extensive treaties defending Jesus’ virginal conception against the tide of 19th and 20th century liberalism.

To illustrate the kind of divergence we are talking about and the kinds of harmonisations which are possible to avoid the charge of ‘irreconcilable differences,’ let’s consider some alleged geographical contradictions between both Matthew and Luke’s narratives. Here is what we know from the two texts:

1. Luke says Mary visited her relative Elizabeth in the Judean hill country for around three months (Luke 1:39, 56).
2. Luke says that before Jesus was born, Mary and Joseph journeyed from Nazareth to Bethlehem for a census (Luke 2:4-5).
3. Both say Jesus was born in Bethlehem (Matt. 2:1; Luke 2:4-7).
4. Luke says some nearby shepherds hastily visited baby Jesus in a manger in Bethlehem (Luke 2:8-20).
5. Luke says Jesus was circumcised on the eighth day (Luke 2:21).
6. Luke says Mary, Joseph and Jesus journeyed to the temple in Jerusalem (Luke 2:22-39).
7. Matthew says some magi from the east visited Jesus as a child in a house in Bethlehem (Matt. 2:1-12).
8. Matthew says Mary, Joseph and Jesus fled to Egypt to escape Herod (Matt. 2:13-18).
9. Both say that after Jesus was born, Mary, Joseph and Jesus returned to Nazareth (Matt. 2:23; Luke 2:39).

Critics sometimes allege a contradiction between points 1. and 2. given Matthew’s silence on the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Much fuss is also made about the catalyst for the journey, “the first census taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria,” (Luke 2:1) with critics alleging Luke made up the story of the census in order to get Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem to fulfil the prophecy spoken of by Micah 5:2; a census without precedent in that it required “everyone… to register for the census, each to his own city” (Luke 2:2). But here again we see an argument from silence. Matthew’s silence on the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem does not exclude it as a possibility and manufacturing a historically falsifiable census seems unnecessarily dramatic. For one, both Matthew and Luke ground their narratives “in the days of Herod” (Matt. 2:1; Luke 1:5), so there is no contradiction in the timing of their events; for another, the kind of scepticism required to reject Luke’s description of the census seems unwarranted simply because of a lack of extra-biblical attestation when time and again Luke has proven to be a reliable historian.¹³ Furthermore, we must ask what reason Luke would have for making all of this up? Why not just start his narrative with Mary and Joseph in Bethlehem and avoid the journey altogether?

From the details of the respective narratives, there seems to be three possible reasons why Joseph took Mary from Nazareth to Bethlehem. First, because Mary was pledged to be his wife and was expecting a child (Luke 2:5); second, because Mary had family in the region she had previously visited in the Judean Hill country (point 1); and third, because of what Matthew says later about Mary and Joseph which makes it seem they planned on relocating to Bethlehem following Jesus’ birth. When the shepherds came to visit, Luke describes Jesus as a “baby” in a “manger” (Luke 2:16). By the time the magi from the east arrive, Matthew describes Jesus as a “child” who lived in a “house” (Matt. 2:11). As there are no textual cues to suppose the magi arrived with haste like the shepherds, it seems entirely reasonable to think that Mary, Joseph and Jesus settled for a time in Bethlehem. Indeed, this hypothesis seems supported given Joseph’s desire to return to Bethlehem from Egypt despite returning to Nazareth upon learning Archelaus was reigning over Judea (Matt. 2:22).

Critics have also alleged a contradiction between points 8. and 9. given Luke’s silence on the flight to Egypt. Where Matthew has Mary, Joseph and Jesus returning from Egypt (Matt. 2:19-23), Luke makes no mention of Egypt and his silence thus seems to imply that the family returned to Nazareth directly after their visit to the temple in Jerusalem (point 6.). But here again we have an argument from silence. Luke’s silence of the flight to Egypt does not exclude it as a possibility from his narrative. If Mary, Joseph and Jesus did indeed settle in Bethlehem for a time, as point 7. suggests, then on Luke’s account that would place the flight to Egypt chronologically in the middle of Luke 2:39. Accordingly, after the temple visit, Mary, Joseph and Jesus returned to Bethlehem where they settled for an unspecified amount of time, during which the magi from the east visited, before journeying onto Egypt and eventually back to Nazareth.

It’s reasonable to ask why all of this was omitted from Luke. Perhaps he was not aware? Perhaps the details were simply of no importance for his purposes (Luke 1:1-4)? Whatever the case, it should be clear that geographical divergences between the narratives of Matthew and Luke do not pose irreconcilable differences. To my mind, the issue of divergence between Matthew and Luke’s infancy narratives do not damage the claim of Jesus’ virginal conception – they support it. What we have are two pre-Christian, pre-AD 70 Jewish narratives, written from different perspectives for different purposes to different target audiences, all of which suggests that Matthew and Luke had independent access to information about something that really happened in human history. They pose reconcilable variances, the very kind you would expect to find if, indeed, the accounts were authentic (i.e., not colluded). Of course, there is always the danger that a harmonistic approach distorts or obscures the original and unique presentation of the narratives, but careful harmonistic readings can be of immense value in painting a more complete picture for the events in question upon the broader canvas of history.

To Sum Up…

The subject of the virgin birth has been said before, but it needs to be said again. As the gospel must be declared anew to every generation, so the importance and practical value of the virgin birth, itself an integral part of the New Testament witness about Jesus, must be declared anew. Part of the declarative process must include a robust defence from the prejudices and presuppositions of those who would seek to undermine the reality of the supernatural and the essential trustworthiness of the Bible, not the least the gospels themselves, whose reliability substantiate Jesus’ divinity and authenticity as a Saviour.

In short, the practical value of Jesus’ virginal birth cannot be understated. The question of God’s supernatural inbreaking, the trustworthiness of the Bible and ultimately Jesus’ offer of salvation are all at stake. For the supernatural Person of Christ belongs with His redemptive work at Calvary; the meaning of Christmas with the message of Easter.

1. Ignatius, “To the Ephesians,” Chapter IXX. Available online at: http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/ignatius-ephesians-lightfoot.html
2. Justin Martyr, “Trypho Compares Jesus With Perseus…,” Chapter LXVII. Available online at: http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/justinmartyr-dialoguetrypho.html
3. Origen, “Contra Celsus,” Chapter XXXII. Available online at: http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/origen161.html
4. David Hume, Enquiries Concerning Human Understanding (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975), X.i.86.
5. Rudolf Bultmann, Faith and Understanding (London: SCM, 1969), 248, 249. Emphasis original.
6. John Shelby Spong, Born Of A Woman: A Bishop Rethinks the Virgin Birth and the Treatment of Women by a Male-Dominated Church (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1992), e-book.
7. Ibid.
8. Ibid.
9. Carl F. H. Henry, God, Revelation and Authority (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 1999), I: 215. On the subject of Jesus’ identity, this comment should be understood from what Jesus Himself has to say concerning the Father’s own revelation of who He is in Matthew 16:13-17.
10. James Orr points out that “There is hardly an allusion to Christ’s entrance into our humanity in the Epistles which is not marked by some significant peculiarity of expression.” James Orr, The Virgin Birth of Christ (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1907), 117.
11. Donald Macleod, The Person of Christ, Contours of Christian Theology (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1998), 30.
12. Robert Duncan Culver, Systematic Theology: Biblical and Historical (Great Britain: Mentor Imprint, 2008), 478.
13. On the point of extra-biblical attestation, Luke’s account of Quirinius’ governorship is attested by Tacitus’ Annals and Josephus’ Jewish Antiquities, and further archaeological findings, in particular the Lapis Tiburtinus which, though not bearing Quirinius’ name, nevertheless contains an inscription of a man fitting the descriptive bill with the added detail of the man becoming governor of Syria for a second time. As Luke’s mention of a “first census” implies knowledge of a second – likely that mentioned by Luke in Acts 5:37 and alluded to by Josephus – the Lapis Tiburtinus could be seen to corroborate Luke’s narrative.