Christianity by the Century: The First Century BCE (100 BCE – 0)

Christianity by the Century: The First Century BCE (100 BCE – 0)

When we look back at the first century BCE, we see the stage being set for the arrival of Jesus of Nazareth. These years were not yet “Christian” in any sense, but they formed the world into which Jesus was born and where he came to be remembered as messiah, teacher, and a victim of Roman violence. The century carries its own drama: a change of empires, shifting power in Judea, bitter rivalries over the line of David, and deepening hopes for deliverance.

From Greek to Roman Domination

The century opened with the fading shadow of Greek dominance and the rising power of Rome. In 63 BCE, General Pompey swept through the region, conquering Judea and putting an end to the independence of the Hasmonean dynasty. What followed was a new reality: Judea became a client kingdom of Rome.

This arrangement appeared to preserve a measure of autonomy. Rome was practical enough to grant the Jewish people exemptions from the usual requirements of worshiping the Roman gods and even the emperor himself. Such a concession as the recognition of Jewish devotion to one God was unusual in the Roman system. Yet the system never ran smoothly. The relationship between Rome and Judea was complex, full of tension, and prone to violence whenever loyalties seemed uncertain.

The Rise of Herod the Great

The most vivid embodiment of this fraught relationship came in the person of Herod the Great. In 37 BCE, with Roman backing, Herod seized Jerusalem and slaughtered many of its inhabitants. He installed himself as Rome’s chosen ruler over Judea, despite the fact that many Judaeans had supported his rival, Antigonus.

Herod’s reign demonstrated both the cruelty of Rome and the ruthlessness of its client kings. He left his mark not only through bloodshed but also through monumental building projects. Chief among them was the fortress-palace called the Herodion, built near Bethlehem. Its location was no accident: Herod placed it near the burial sites of the descendants of David. For families who traced their ancestry to David, the Herodion stood as a visible reminder of Herod’s claim to kingship and his willingness to stamp out resistance.

Though born into a family of Jewish converts rather than Judahite blood, Herod promoted himself as a messianic ruler, even claiming Davidic ancestry. His pretensions only deepened the antagonism between him and those who truly belonged to the Davidic line.

Bethlehem, Trauma, and Expectation

Bethlehem, the “city of David,” became a focal point of both hope and violence. Joan Taylor captures the paradox starkly: “To be born Davidic in Bethlehem, then, was to be born into a landscape of expectation and violence. Your identity as a descendant of David and a Bethlehemite would be associated with trauma.” (Boy Jesus, 70).

The destruction of Jerusalem’s genealogical records in a fire, for which Herod was blamed, further heightened tensions. These archives had held proof of ancient lineages, including the Davidic family line. Without them, memory and oral tradition carried even greater weight. For those who could still claim descent from David, their very identity carried both honor and danger.

Jesus in the Shadow of Herod

It is within this world that Jesus was born, most likely between 6 and 4 BCE, during Herod’s final years. The Gospel stories of his birth are celebrated in Christian tradition, but historically Jesus himself was quiet in these years, not yet the figure who would launch a movement.

The infamous “massacre of the innocents” described in Matthew lacks independent historical evidence. Yet scholars point to earlier atrocities committed by Herod—particularly his brutal slaughtering of Judeans and the suppression of their resistance around Bethlehem in 40 BCE—as the likely historical memory behind the story. Generational trauma can reshape and retell itself, and in this case, Herod’s well-known barbarity seems to have been woven into the fabric of Jesus’s nativity story.

Whether literal or not, the tradition reflects the truth of Herod’s reign: to be a child in Bethlehem of Davidic descent was to be born into peril.

The Davidic Line: Honor and Peril

As the Gospels of Matthew and Luke remind us, the Davidic ancestry of Jesus became central to his later significance. Mark, the earliest Gospel, does not mention it, but the others go to great lengths to trace his lineage back to David. Ironically, the genealogies trace through Joseph, even though Christian tradition emphasizes Mary’s virgin birth. Whatever the historical inconsistencies, the memory remained: Jesus belonged to the house of David.

This heritage was double-edged. On the one hand, it evoked royal hope: the prophecy of a ruler like David who would deliver Israel. On the other hand, it was politically dangerous. Ancient writers such as Hegesippus and Julius Africanus report that descendants of David could be arrested and executed if suspected of stirring resistance. The line of David represented both promise and threat.

Reading the Nativity Stories

Modern readers often stumble over the contradictions between Matthew and Luke’s accounts of Jesus’s birth. They do not agree on geography, visitors, or sequence of events. But as Joan Taylor suggests, the question may not be whether these accounts are “true” in a modern historical sense, but why they were told in these particular ways.

Matthew’s genealogy is especially revealing. It includes four women—Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba—each connected with morally questionable or socially irregular unions. In every case, the men “did wrong,” but God’s purposes continued through them. This background sheds light on Joseph’s dilemma when Mary was found to be pregnant. By considering sending her away, Joseph seemed ready to repeat the old pattern. Yet, by accepting Mary and her child, he is praised as righteous.

Taylor even suggests a reading in which Joseph remains the actual father of Jesus, his Davidic “seed” miraculously joined with Mary’s womb by the action of the Spirit. However interpreted, the story insists that both Joseph and Jesus rightfully inherit the title “Son of David.”

A Neighbor and a Cousin: John the Baptist

At the close of the century, another child was born with ties to this same world of expectation: John the Baptist. According to the Gospels, he was a relative of Jesus, and tradition places his birth just months earlier.

John’s career would eventually overlap with Jesus’s, and in many ways, Jesus began as John’s admirer and follower. To this day, the Mandaeans in the Middle East honor John as the true prophet. Their parallel birth stories remind us that Jesus was not the only figure shaped by the currents of this violent and hopeful time.

Conclusion: A Century of Preparation

The first century BCE was not yet the age of Christianity, but it was the stage on which Christianity’s central figure first appeared. The political landscape had shifted from Greek to Roman dominance, leaving Judea under the thumb of a cruel client king. The trauma of Herod’s reign and the memory of Davidic descent created a charged environment of danger and hope.

Into this world of violence and expectation came Jesus of Nazareth, remembered as a child of Bethlehem and son of David. The stories of his birth—however we interpret them—reflect the anxieties and aspirations of his people. They also hint at the destiny that awaited him in the decades to follow, when he would step into public life and alter the course of history.

The century that preceded Jesus’s ministry is not background filler; it is the soil in which Christianity took root. Understanding it helps us grasp why Jesus’s role as messiah, teacher, and target of Roman violence carried such weight for those who followed him.

This is the fifth in a series of Bible and Beyond blog posts, Christian History by the Century, focusing on the key developments that influenced Christianity, century by century. Beginning with the fifth century BCE, we have traced historical events and ideas that influenced future generations of those who came to identify themselves as Christian.