(avg. read time: 13–26 mins.)
The Birth of the King
With the opening of ch. 2, we see the first indication of a setting of place: Bethlehem of Judea. The fact that this is Jesus’s birthplace establishes further solidarity with his ancestor David, since this was also David’s birthplace. But again, Matthew is going beyond giving historical information (although he is certainly doing that) because this event, too, happened to fulfill Scripture. This is made manifest when Herod tries to clear up his confusion when the magi come to ask him where the king of the Jews is, because apparently it is not him (despite his action of rebuilding the temple, per Ps 132; Hag 2:20–23; Zech 4:1–10; 6:9–15). He then asks the experts where the Messiah is to be born, and they cite Mic 5:2 to show that his birthplace will be Bethlehem, the birthplace of his ancestor David. As in other texts about the Davidic king, the figure here serves the function of a person who unites Israel and delivers it from foreign enemies, which is in line with some of David’s chief accomplishments. In the context of Matthew, this portrait fits Jesus, with some modification. Jesus is not the kind of Messiah who is interested in military conquest of foreign enemies—much to the chagrin of some of Jesus’s contemporaries—but actually draws foreign representatives to himself as people coming to pay honor (cf. Ps 72:10–11, 15; Isa 60:6). Thus, he is still the one to whom the ends of the earth ultimately submit, and these magi are prototypes of the ideal subjects. The kingdom of God would not come through military conquest on behalf of Israel, but through a more holistic way of deliverance through Jesus that incorporates Israel in the process. In fact, Jesus not only draws Israel to himself; he redefines the people of God around himself so that unexpected people enter the kingdom while expected people are on the outside looking in with weeping and gnashing of teeth (e.g., 8:10–12; 9:9–13; 11:18–19; 21:28–32; 22:1–14). He provides for Israel in terms of miracles, teaching, and reconciliation as well as the coming of the kingdom through his death, resurrection, and exaltation. The use of the direct reference and the surrounding context thus reveal one of several important paradigms and interpretive keys for the Gospel as a whole.
The Gentiles and the Kingdom
This story, centered as it is around the fulfillment of Mic 5, also foreshadows the larger themes of Matthew, thereby linking the Christmas story to the larger Christ story. First, the magi arriving from the east to meet the infant Jesus and to worship him fits with Matthew’s theme of the gentiles coming to Jesus. It is true that Jesus would tell the Twelve, when he sent them out in ch. 10, not to go to the gentiles, but to the Jews only (10:5–6). However, this is clearly not a definitive restriction for all time, and it clearly does not prevent gentiles from coming to Jesus or Jesus from going into gentile territory. Indeed, even Galilee is called “Galilee of the nations/gentiles” in the citation of Isa 9:1–2 that frames the beginning of Jesus’s public ministry (4:14–17). The centurion comes to Jesus to ask him for healing of his servant and he demonstrates to Jesus his superlative faith, which causes Jesus to declare (prior to healing the servant) that others like the centurion will come from the east and west to join in the kingdom’s eschatological feast with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, but those who were supposed to be the children of the kingdom will find themselves in the outer darkness (8:5–13). Jesus’s encounter with the demoniacs was probably in gentile territory (8:28–34), where he would leave behind two witnesses in these demoniacs. And even in the chapter in which he instructs the Twelve to go only to the Jews, he speaks in parallelism of how his followers will testify in their persecution, on the one hand being handed over to the local councils and synagogues for flogging, and on the other hand being dragged before governors and kings for the sake of Jesus as a testimony to them and the nations (10:17–18). Because of the parallelism involved here, we should see “the nations” as a reference to the gentiles. Likewise, in this teaching and others, Jesus speaks about how those among the nations—both those who were notoriously wicked and those who were known for their positive responses to YHWH and his representatives—would find the day of judgment more bearable than the people among the Jews who rejected Jesus and his gospel (10:15; 11:21–24; 12:41–42). The reference to Jesus fulfilling Isa 42 refers to the opening verses (vv. 1–4), which closes with talking about the gentiles having their hope in him (12:15–21). At one point in his ministry, after his teaching on what makes people clean and unclean, he enters the region of Tyre and Sidon and answers the entreaty of a Canaanite woman asking for her daughter to be exorcised of the demon that tortures her (15:21–28). And of course, we are told in multiple climactic teachings, especially in the closing Great Commission, that the gospel will go to all the nations (24:14; 28:19), as well as that all nations will come to Jesus on the day of judgment (25:32).
The significance of this is obvious in light of the prophetic expectations of the coming of the nations to Jerusalem in the eschatological state (Isa 2:2–5; 11:10–16; 42:1–7; 49:1–6; 60; 66:18–20; Mic 4:1–5; Zech 8:20–23; 14:6–19) and the fact that Jesus has been proclaiming the coming of the kingdom of God/heaven. This is also another case in which Jesus has shaped OT eschatological expectations around himself. Instead of gentiles gathering to the city of God, since it is the central city of his kingdom and the veritable “center” of his manifest presence, they first gather to Jesus, the bearer of God’s identity and presence. We see the initial unfolding of this theme in the Christmas story and it will be further adumbrated throughout the Gospel in prolepsis of Jesus’s eschatological vision of gathering all nations to himself in judgment and salvation.
Competing Claims of Kingship
Second, we see a competition arising over who should be the king of the Jews. The phrase ὁ βασιλεὺς τῶν Ἰουδαίων only appears four times in Matthew (2:2; 27:11, 29, 37), but it is worth noting where it appears. In this text, it causes a conflict between the apparent king of the Jews, Herod the Great, the client king of Rome, and the one who is said to be born as the king of the Jews. Herod was not the king of the Jews by virtue of his birthright, but by political machinations, consolidation of power, and the favor of Rome. But the hope for a royal, Davidic Messiah—based on the evidence of the Pseudepigrapha, the Dead Sea Scrolls, and Josephus—seems to have been most resurgent in Judea and Galilee during the Roman era, and this Messiah would be king of the Jews by God’s election, by God’s promise (especially to David), by God-given birthright, as it were. The fact that this king would have his authorization from the God of Israel would naturally make him a rival to Herod and one who could supersede Rome’s claims to power over the Jews. We see as much in the fact that the other three references to the king of the Jews are in the trial and execution of Jesus. It is part of a question that Pilate asks Jesus to ascertain whether the accusations against him are true (27:11–14). This question, and its answer, parallel the exchange of Jesus and Caiaphas (26:63–64), much as the claim to be the king of the Jews is linked to the Messiah in ch. 2. It appears in the Roman soldiers’ mocking of Jesus as they exert power over him while mockingly dressing and addressing him as a king (27:29). Finally, of course, the phrase is repeated on the charge placed above his head on the cross (27:37), as the Romans once again exert their power over an apparent insurrectionist, making a crime of a claim to be the king of the Jews, and asserting their own reign over the Jewish people. The conflict that begins in the Christmas story of Jesus’s birth comes to its fruition in the story of Jesus’s death, resurrection, and exaltation. Indeed, it is the resurrection that provides God’s vindicating confirmation of who Jesus is, that he is the one born king of the Jews in the city of his ancestor David. As God rescued Jesus from Herod’s attempted murder, he raised Jesus in contradiction of the verdict that put him on the cross (that he was not the rightful king of the Jews/Messiah). But it is crucial to remember that Jesus, as king of the Jews, is not merely a competitor for Herod and the Roman rulers behind him. His kingship transcends what the Romans can accomplish by their power.
The King of the Kingdom of Heaven
This leads to the third theme, that of the kingdom of the heavens. Jonathan Pennington’s study Heaven and Earth in the Gospel of Matthew has helpfully highlighted several points about Matthew’s heavenly language—even though I have a few significant disagreements with his analysis—that are necessary to review here. Matthew has a peculiar interest in the heavens, as he uses οὐρανός eighty-two times in his Gospel, far more than even Revelation. Although Matthew uses the phrase for the kingdom of God that appears in the other Synoptics (ἡ βασιλεία τοῦ θεοῦ) in four instances (12:28; 19:24; 21:31, 43), Matthew has a clear preference for ἡ βασιλεία τῶν οὐρανῶν (“the kingdom of the heavens”). He uses this phrase thirty-two times in addition to twenty references to God as the “Father who is in heaven” and the “heavenly Father.” Matthew sometimes refers to the heaven-and-earth pair in its merismatic sense, where it refers to creation in its entirety (as in Gen 1:1), but he seems to have a preference for making contrasts between heaven and earth. However, both uses come together in texts like 28:18 to indicate the telos of God’s kingdom project in redeeming the earth so as to remove what opposes it to his heavenly kingdom and uniting heaven and earth together in this one kingdom. This kingdom is transcendent in that it is from heaven, God’s royal realm, and in that it has heavenly qualities that set it apart from earthly kingdoms, as Jesus demonstrates throughout the Gospel. As the inaugurator of God’s heavenly kingdom, Jesus is set above the earthly kings who otherwise considered themselves his rivals. In the power struggle provoked over who is the true king of the Jews, Jesus is guaranteed victory by virtue of who he is (and thus what he does and what God the Father does for him) as King in God’s heavenly kingdom (esp. 19:28; 25:31–34, 40).
This overarching theme supplies essential context for the heavenly events of this story in ch. 2. The magi—whether they were Zoroastrian religious officials by the same name, astrologers/astronomers, or simply wise men from the east need not detain us here—paid attention to the stars because of assumptions about the heavenly powers that operate among the stars. The Jewish apocalyptists, Roman religious officials, Greco-Roman philosophers, and many others besides all expressed interest in cosmology. Their interests stem not only from concern for the nature of the world, but also from concern about who the powers in heaven are, what they do, and for what purposes they work. Matthew’s regular references to the heavenly king and the kingdom of the heavens enters this discourse from an angle informed especially by Daniel’s apocalyptic cosmology and theology. He knows that there is but one true divine power in the heavens and that he has made his will known in Jesus the Messiah, since Jesus was, is, and always will be the executor of God’s will. In this particular episode, he signifies this—and the fact that he is the one supreme power in the heavens—with the star in the sky (the lowest level of what is called “heaven”) that leads the magi to Jesus. This star may be further significant if it is resonant with the royal star of Num 24:17. This text refers to a star rising out of Jacob, a scepter out of Israel, that shall conquer those who would oppose Israel and thus God’s will for them. This text was influential for eschatological expectations, especially in Judea and Galilee (T. Lev. 18:3; T. Jud. 24:1; 1QSb V, 27–28; 1QM XI, 6–7; 4QTest/4Q175 I, 12–13; CD VII, 18–20), even after the time of Jesus, as signified by Simon bar Kokhba (Simon, the son of the star), and it may be that this linkage of a heavenly symbol with an earthly reign also informs the fact that a star shows the birthplace of the one who is the fulfillment of the Davidic promise of Mic 5:2. Of course, as already noted at multiple points, Jesus does not fulfill these expectations with military prowess, but by defeating the enemies (especially sin) that stand behind the old earthly enemies of Israel and which have taken control of Israel as well.
Worship of the King
This then leads to the final motif of worship, especially in terms of who is worthy of it. Again, this point is especially prominent in Matthew, as the verb προσκυνέω appears thirteen times (2:2, 8, 11; 4:9–10; 8:2; 9:18; 14:33; 15:25; 18:26; 20:20; 28:9, 17), more often than all the other Gospels. (Mark only uses it twice, Luke uses it three times with one in a post-resurrection scene, and John uses it eleven times, but nine of these appear in one dialogue about worship with the Samaritan woman in ch. 4.) Jesus is the recipient of this action in every case except for the temptation narrative, where Jesus refuses to perform this action to Satan and says only God should receive it (4:9–10). For Matthew and his audience, this gesture is clearly appropriate as an act of worship to Jesus, even if the original actors may not have realized they were worshiping him. In any case, it is a gesture that would be done towards a superior (earthly or heavenly) involving prostration, kneeling, bowing, or some other similar action of obeisance. It is significant that the magi are the first to perform this action and the disciples are the last. The magi come as representatives of other nations to acknowledge Jesus as a superior, the king of the Jews. The resurrection, the occasion for the last performance of this action in recognition of who Jesus is, reveals that this type of gesture is a proper act of worship directed towards Jesus, the one who is worthy of worship because he shares in the divine identity with God the Father. This Gospel story is framed with worship in the stories of birth and resurrection after death and it is characterized throughout with worship of Jesus. To this day, we celebrate Christmas with it, we celebrate Easter with it, and it should characterize the entirety of our lives.
Jesus and Israel
As the scene shifts from the magi, the rest of the Christmas story illustrates Jesus’s bond with Israel. The particular details of how this bond is illustrated will be relevant for the rest of the Gospel. When Herod learns that the magi have left without returning to inform him of their visit to Jesus, he decides to slaughter all the male children under the age of two in Bethlehem just to be safe. The occasion of the Slaughter of the Innocents and Jesus’s escape from it inspire the citation of two Scriptures, one from Jeremiah and one from Hosea. Again, as I have already commented on the use of these passages, I will only summarize what I have written previously.
The quote of Jer 31:15 encapsulates the mournful experience of the exiles in death, displacement, desecration, and dehumanization. Jesus was obviously not among the children of Rachel who died this day, but this typological/pattern fulfillment of Scripture even in his infancy establishes his solidarity with these innocent children, even as Moses had solidarity with his fellow Hebrew children who did not survive like he did. Indeed, the context of the cited verse is about the deliverance into joy that comes with return and restoration. Whereas previous generations of Israelites placed the exodus at the center of their faith as God’s paradigmatic action and the keystone of their remembrance and hope (and thus identity) by which they were constituted under the old covenant, the people of God reconstituted under the new covenant in Jesus take the Christ-event—with the climax in the death, resurrection, and exaltation—as the new paradigmatic event that functions as the keystone of remembrance and hope (and thus identity). Once again, the Christmas story foreshadows the rest of the Christ story.
The same applies to the quote of Hos 11:1. Originally, the text refers to Israel as God’s son and to God’s initial calling of Israel out of Egypt in the exodus. God called Israel out of Egypt because he considered Israel his son, but also so that Israel could be his son (i.e., so that the Israelites could live into that identity which they already possessed in the eyes of God). But the history since involved Israel acting out of keeping with that identity, and so God promises that he will bring them back through a new exodus (v. 11). In the case of Jesus, he is the true Son of God representing Israel who fulfills the role of Son in the way Israel never did. In a sense, he is the one through whom the new exodus comes, which he foreshadows when God calls his family out of Egypt, establishing his solidarity with the people of Israel. But because he bears that new exodus in himself, he is also the foundation of the identity and relationship with the true people of God, consisting of Israel and the gentiles.
This solidarity with Israel in its suffering and in its deliverance establishes Jesus’s identity as the representative of Israel who fulfills the purpose for Israel on the one hand, and God’s promises to Israel on the other. The union of God and human in Jesus’s person fits with his larger mission of reconciling God and humans, beginning first with the chosen people of Israel. We see it in his act of designating twelve disciples as representing the reconstitution of the twelve tribes of Israel around himself. And much as Jesus fulfills the role of Israel in Hos 11, he also fulfills the proper role of Israel in the temptation narrative as he overcomes the temptations of the devil in the wilderness (4:1–11). The motif of the gathering of the people from far and wide in the eschatological horizon of the text also draws on a similar motif from promises of the new exodus and return from exile (8:11; 13:27–30, 37–43, 47–50; 23:37; 24:31). Jesus’s feeding miracles in the wilderness evoke the feeding of Israel in the wilderness (14:13–21; 15:30–39). As the climactic events of the Gospel take place on and around the Passover and the Eucharist instituted functions as a new Passover feast, these events also convey the new exodus theme. As such, one sees that in Jesus’s own ministry and in the eschatological events inaugurated by his death and resurrection, God is both acting consistently with the self-identification as the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and amplifying the context in which that identification was made by enacting a new exodus that is superior to the old in terms of scope, efficacy, and everlastingness (Isa 4:2–6; 11:11–16; 43:1–21; 48:17–21; 49:8–13; 51:9–11; Jer 23:1–8; 31:31–37; 32:37–41; Ezek 11:15–20; 20:33–44; 36:22–38; 37:1–14; Hos 11:1–11; Mic 7:14–20; Zech 8:6–8, 12–13; 10:6–12).
A particularly prevalent aspect of this Gospel’s teaching about Jesus’s relationship with Israel is that God’s people—from the days of the patriarchs to the present time—are constituted around Jesus, rather than by biological descent from the patriarchs (7:21–27; 8:8–12; 10; 11:20–30; 12:39–42; 13:27–30, 37–43, 47–50; 16:24–28; 19:28–30; 21:33–46; 22:1–14; 23:37; 24:31; 25:31–46). This is why he is described in terms reminiscent of Israel, but fulfilling texts about them as others could not. This is why he is the executor of God’s promises to Israel. This is why response to him dictates who can enter into the kingdom and who will be in the outer darkness. And this is why his death and resurrection are attached to the fulfillment of Scripture and the salvific mission of God. Indeed, his argument in 22:23–33 about the resurrection implies that the eschatological resurrection is the fulfillment of a text that concerned the exodus, and thus it is of one piece with the larger complex of new exodus hopes. And as I have argued elsewhere (and here as well) Matthew implicitly ties the general resurrection to Jesus’s resurrection in recognition of this solidarity between Jesus and Israel, between Jesus and the people of God constituted around him. As such, those who are resurrected to the inheritance God promised the patriarchs are those who are constituted around Jesus as God’s people and as the true heirs of the patriarchs. If the general resurrection fulfills God’s promises to the patriarchs and the fulfillment of these promises comes through Jesus—who constitutes the people of God around himself—then resurrection hope itself and the larger complex of hope in the resolution of the ancestral story have a Christocentric shape.
This is the story we first see laid out in the Christmas narrative. What begins in joy turns to mourning, which then returns to joy with the knowledge that God’s Son, the deliverer, has himself been delivered. This is the story of Israel, which began with the patriarchs and the exodus, came to its nadir with the exile, and reached its joyous fruition with the coming of its Deliverer. This is also the story of Jesus, which began with the joy of his coming into the world and into the ministry/mission God willed for him, turned to mourning with his crucifixion, and returned again to delivering joy with his resurrection from the dead in proclamation of God’s victory. The Christmas story is thus both the initiation of the story of Jesus in solidarity with Israel as the one who brings its hopes to pass and the microcosm of that larger story with its fulfillment of Hos 11 and Jer 31.
Jesus the Nazarene
The final text to consider is 2:23, wherein we are told that Jesus dwelt in Nazareth to fulfill what was spoken through the prophets that he will be called a Nazorean/Nazarene. Naturally, this claim raises questions. You will not find a single text in the OT that says this precise thing in either the Hebrew or the LXX. A further peculiarity is that this is the only formulaic quotation in Matthew that refers to a statement as being from multiple prophets. This citation is also peculiar for its use of ὅτι before the quotation rather than λέγω or γράφω. As such (and here I agree with R. T. France), much like other instances of referring to multiple scriptures being fulfilled (Matt 26:54, 56; Mark 14:49; Luke 24:27, 45; John 5:39; Acts 17:2–3; 18:28; Rom 1:2; 1 Cor 15:3–4), it is perhaps better to see here the fulfillment of a story, or at least a theme within a story, rather than a reference that necessarily has multiple specific bits of text in mind. Thus, we should probably not look to Isa 11:1 (which features a wordplay on the term for “branch” that works in Hebrew but is obscured in Greek) or Judg 13 (which works on the Greek level, but only with one term and that out of keeping with the context, since Jesus was no Nazirite). Rather, it was appropriate that Jesus should live in Nazareth because it fits with the theme of God’s chosen ones arising from humble origins (which was true of some political/military leaders but was especially true of prophets) and expectations that God’s holy servant would be despised and rejected (cf. Ps 22; Isa 53; Zech 11). Interestingly the Isa 11 passage does fit in this context, but for imagistic, rather than terminological, reasons, as it refers to a branch arising from the stump of Jesse.
It is difficult to say with much confidence if this is what Matthew was trying to communicate, not least because of the number of peculiarities in this text, but this seems to fit with other tendencies that we have noted, it fits with OT themes, and it fits with the rest of Matthew. After all, ironically in light of 2:23, Jesus himself was despised and rejected in his humble hometown of Nazareth (13:54–58). Jesus also says that he has no place to rest his head (8:20), that he was despised by his own generation as John was (11:16–19), and he sets the precedent for his followers in applying the imagery of the rejected stone in Ps 118:22 to himself (21:42). Indeed, he is rejected at many other points in his ministry by the teachers who oppose him, to the point that he predicts his death at the hands of the leaders, as well as his resurrection in vindication by God (16:21; 17:22–23; 20:18–19). He even tells his followers to expect that the world will treat them as they have treated him (10:17–39; 16:24–26; 24:9–14). His settling at Nazareth portends this larger story, even as it hinges that story to OT themes. This one, God’s elect, the one who is God with us, was born as a vulnerable baby in Bethlehem. Then after the attempt on his life, he grows up in humble circumstances in a village that history would never remember were it not his hometown. The fact that he is called a Nazorean/Nazarene may not be referenced directly anywhere in the OT, but no statement in Matthew’s Gospel more succinctly summarizes the manner in which Jesus entered the world than that “God with us,” the executor of God’s will, the King of the kingdom of heaven, would spend his life being called a Nazarene.
Angels
It is also important to note here a feature that pervades narratives in Matthew and Luke that also needs to be read within the Gospels’ Christian context. That is, both stories feature a peculiarly pervasive involvement of angels. Nowhere else in the Gospels, or anywhere in the NT, except for Revelation, do angels so frequently appear in the narrative. In both stories, they appear to announce the conception of Jesus to one of his parents (Matt 1:20; Luke 1:26), to declare that Jesus was (or will be) conceived by the Holy Spirit (Matt 1:20; Luke 1:35), and to proclaim Jesus as Savior (Matt 1:21; Luke 2:11). Matthew also features an angel giving Joseph a command not to divorce Mary, and he obeys (1:24). The magi are warned in a dream not to return to Herod (2:12), and the narrative context implies that an angel would be involved in this warning as well. An angel appears again to Joseph to warn him about Herod’s intent to kill Jesus and to command him to leave for Egypt (2:13), then an angel appears to instruct Joseph to return to the land of Israel after Herod’s death (2:19). In each of Matthew’s episodes, the angel appears in a dream, which they never do in the rest of the story. In Luke’s story, they appear in regular angelophanies to Zechariah to announce John’s coming conception as well as its significance (1:11–17), to Mary to announce Jesus’s coming conception as well as its significance (1:26–38), and to the shepherds to announce the birth of the Messiah (2:9–14). Otherwise, angels do not reappear in the narratives, except for in the temptation narrative after Jesus has overcome Satan (Matt 4:11), in Gethsemane in Luke’s account to strengthen Jesus (Luke 22:43), and at the empty tomb after his resurrection (Matt 28:2, 5; Luke 24:23). Otherwise, Jesus almost always refers to them in the contexts of the eschaton and judgment that will take place beyond the scope of the Gospel story (Matt 13:39, 41, 49; 16:27; 22:30; 24:31, 36; 25:31, 41; Luke 9:26; 12:8–9; 16:22; 20:36). They also appear at multiple points in Acts to aid or instruct the apostles and evangelists (1:10–11; 5:19–20; 8:26; 10:3–6; 12:7–11; 27:22–24)
Why is this significant? Why are the angels so active in the opening chapters of Matthew and Luke only to virtually disappear until the end of the gospel story? I would suggest a few reasons for this. One, in both the OT and NT, the angels appear to take part in or prepare for God’s great acts of salvation and judgment. They appear here in that same capacity as the enactor of God’s will and the fulfiller of his promises has arrived on the world stage to inaugurate the eschatological kingdom. Two, they act as heralds of God and they properly function in the role of preparatory declaration, rather than in the role(s) that Jesus fulfills. Before Jesus is born and while he is still an infant, it makes sense for them to be God’s messengers to God’s people in his stead. But when he is fully matured and begins his public ministry of speaking God’s word, there is no longer a need to speak through them. This is why the angels appear to serve Jesus on rare occasions and to proclaim his resurrection when he is not present at the tomb, but do not speak otherwise. Three, while angels are not only referenced in the context of the eschaton in these Gospels, the fact that this is the overwhelming tendency may be suggestive of their significance here. As we have seen elsewhere with the fulfillment of Scripture, the inaugurating fulfillment of God’s eschatological promises, and the typological patterns at work in both texts, this eschatological significance of the angels would also fit with this characterization of the Christmas stories. They are stories of climaxes as well as beginnings. It is suitable for the angels to be at work in such times to signify further that God brings his purposes to fruition in Jesus and that is why he sends them to operate on Jesus’s behalf. In anticipation of the eschaton in which they will gather people on Jesus’s behalf by his command, will accompany him at his coming, will listen to Jesus’s testimony in the final judgment, and will join God’s resurrected people in everlasting worship, they prepare the way for his coming into the world to accomplish God’s mission.