Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens, who served on the High Court from 1975 to 2010, enlisted in the Navy several hours before to the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. He served as a cryptographer, assigned to breaking Japanese codes. The team, of which he was a member, was responsible for decoding the orders that informed American officials the flight plan of Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, the commander of the Japanese Navy and the architect of the Pearl Harbor aerial assault.
Based on this information, Navy pilots, on the orders of President Franklin Roosevelt, shot down Yamamoto’s plane in April 1943. Stevens was troubled by this military action. Yamamoto, a highly intelligent officer who had lived in the United States and became friends with many American officers, was shot down with so little deliberation and humanitarian consideration. Amongst the frenzied leaders of “The Land of the Rising Sun,” Steevens wondered, could Yamamoto have been the voice of reason? Placing Yamamoto into the waters of the Pacific, Stevens wondered, could we have possibly lost the cornerstone of peace negotiations?
Stevens, decades hence, still reflected upon this incident, causing him to alter his position on the death penalty in his court deliberations. The Justice related, “I was sitting on the desk, on watch, when I got word that they had shot down Yamamoto in the Solomon Islands, and I remember thinking: This is a particular individual they went out to intercept. There is a very different notion when you’re thinking about killing an individual, as opposed to killing a soldier in the line of fire.”
Partly as a result of his World War II experience, Stevens expressed, regarding the death penalty, the court must narrow the category of those who are eligible for capital punishment, adding that it must be imposed fairly, accurately, and with earnest deliberation.
One may agree or take issue with Stevens’ interpretation of the orders to assassinate Yamamoto; though, the question for our study is how often do we reflect on past assumptions, allowing the knowledge gained to alter our present course of action? This was the issue before the Jewish people. They held previously postulates and were unable, actually unwilling, to amend them for the present. This is most clearly defined with their understanding of the expected coming of the Messiah as the “Son of David”.
God made a great promise to David, “Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure for ever before me; your throne shall be established for ever.” (II Sam 7.16) The kingly reign of David was an Golden Age for Israel, a time of peace and prosperity, freedom from the terror of foreign invasion, absent of internal descent. Thus, centuries later, during the dark days of oppression and banishment to foreign lands, it was the promise of the incarnation of a new king in the image of David that would deliver the Hebrews from their adversaries. The Messiah, as mighty warrior king, was the expectation.
This was so strongly acculturated in Judaism that it was promulgated by all the prophets. It was the dream of Isaiah, “Of the increase of his government and of peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and evermore.” (Isa 9:7) Jeremiah echoed this belief, “Behold the days are coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land.” (Jer 23:5) This was reiterated by Amos, “In that day I will raise up the booth of David that is fallen, and repair its breaches, and raise up its ruins, and rebuild it as in the days of old.” (Am 9:11) A proclamation from Ezekiel is most telling, “I will set up over them one shepherd, my servant David, and he shall feed them; he shall feed them and be their shepherd. And I, the Lord, will be their God, and my servant David shall be prince among them.” (Ezek 34: 23-24) One from the military lineage of David, all the prophets believed, would return as God’s deliver of His chosen people.
When the people of Israel became so desperate with enslavement, economic woes, and with a deterioration of their religious institutions, the coming Messiah was transformed into be a divine being, a superhuman intervener into public affairs. It was in the first century B.C.E. that the phraseology “Son of David” was actually used for the first time. “Behold, O Lord, and raise up unto them their king, the son of David, at a time in which thou seest, O God, that he may reign over thy servant Israel.” (Ps 17:23)
The belief of a military apocalyptic Messiah who would come from the House of David was so dominant in Jewish eschatology that two Roman emperors in the first century A.C.E., tried to squelch it. Vespasian, who destroyed the Jewish Temple in 70, and Domitian in the year 90, both ordered soldiers to seek out and kill every male from the lineage of David. This occurred two to three generations after the execution of Jesus, the unrecognized Messiah by the Jewish elders, who was the Son of David. A stubborn Israelite belief of a military victory over oppressors, a belief recognized and feared by Roman emperors, sustained political persecution.
First century Christians were able to recognize Jesus of Nazareth, a pacifist, to be the Son of David. The gospel writer Matthew, addressing his Jewish audience, opened his composition reading, “An account of the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham.” (Mt 1:1) Though the rabbis failed to recognize Jesus as such, the pronouncement of Matthew didn’t escape the commoner whose lives he enveloped. For the followers of The Way, Jesus was commonly addressed as such. He was called the Son of David by the two blind men (Mt 9:27); by the people when he healed the blind and dumb demonic (Mt 12:13); by the Syrophoenician woman (Mat 15:22); by the blind men in Jericho (Mt 20: 30-31); by the crowds in the streets of Jerusalem and the children in the Temple courts (Mt 21:9, 15). It can be seen that the downtrodden and destitute recognized Jesus as the Son of David, especially when they were astonished at his power. He was clearly greeted as the long-expected Messiah.
Jesus understood that he was a descendent of David and that the Messianic hope of the Jewish people, for he acknowledged that the Christological title Son of David had been bestowed upon him. He accepted the title when he was recognized as such.
There was one occasion when Jesus overtly accepted the title. The incident is recorded in all the Synoptic Gospels. Jesus asked the Pharisees what they had to say about the Messiah. It was answered that the Messiah was the Son of David. Jesus then directed the listeners’ attention to a Psalm, quoting, “The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at my right hand, until I put your enemies under my feet.” (Ps 110:1) The first Lord is God, for God is the speaker; the second Lord is the Messiah, the conquering liberator and triumphant champion of Israel. It is significance that Jesus dictates that he is both Lord and Son of David, that each title must be interpreted in the light of the other.
No longer then can the Son of David be the leader of a military machine; for the Son of David as Lord reflects all the Messianic qualities ascribed to the liberator of Israel, which is foremost a man of peace. It was this new interpretation of the Christological title that challenged the standing beliefs of the leaders of the Temple. It was the primary reasons for the rejection of Jesus as the Messiah. Unable to reflect on the changes the man from Nazareth had brought, three decades after his death the Jewish elders still remained in expectation of a king who would cast aside the Romans, thus the persecution under Vespasian and Domitian against the House of David.
It is interesting to note this was an issue only for the Jews. As Paul in his missionary journeys evangelized the Gentiles, who were unfamiliar with Jewish traditions, the Christological title held no meaning and was absent from the common vernacular of the church. If the Jews could have reflected on their past and applied it to the present, that the Son of David as the precursor of peace would have allowed them to receive the Messiah who walked among them, much as the Gentiles had done.
Colin Powell, Secretary of State int the George H.W. Busch administration, tried to negotiate peace between Palestine and Israel. Realizing the daunting task before him, Powell commented, “We’re at the beginning of a new long hallway. At the end is a negotiation for peace. But first we got to get the door open. It’s going to take two keys.”
Sadly, people lack the key to open the door to new understanding. As it was the case for the first century Temple leaders who failed to unlock the door for the Son of David. Palm Sunday, marking the end for our liturgical season of Lent, the Son of David rode into the city upon the back of a donkey, the sign that a king had come in peace, rather than mounted on a white stallion, the mark of war, only to find one the one who was adorned with palm branches arrived with a key, the second being absent.