1 Maccabees 10:15–21

In these verses, the Seleucid king Alexander Balas, rival claimant to the Syrian throne, seeks to outmaneuver his enemy Demetrius by granting Jonathan the Maccabee the office of High Priest of Judea — along with a purple robe and golden crown as marks of royal favor. Jonathan accepts the appointment and publicly assumes the sacred vestments at the Feast of Tabernacles in 152 BC, marking a pivotal and theologically ambiguous moment in which political expediency and sacred office become dangerously entangled. The passage dramatizes the fragile relationship between divine vocation and human power, raising lasting questions about how God works through — and sometimes despite — the machinations of worldly rulers.

Verse 15 — The intelligence of kings and the reputation of the faithful. King Alexander Balas, who had landed at Ptolemais and was pressing his claim against the reigning Demetrius I, hears detailed reports of Jonathan's military prowess and the suffering the Maccabee family has endured. The verse is carefully structured: Alexander does not merely hear of victories, but of "battles and valiant deeds... and the troubles they had endured." This dual testimony — both heroic action and patient suffering — constitutes Jonathan's "curriculum vitae" before the pagan king. The audience of 1 Maccabees would have recognized this as a reversal of the world's expectations: the persecuted become the courted.

Verse 16 — "Could we find another man like him?" Alexander's rhetorical question echoes similar recognitions of uncommon virtue by foreign rulers throughout Israel's history (cf. Pharaoh's words about Joseph in Genesis 41:38: "Can we find a man like this, in whom is the Spirit of God?"). The phrase is not merely flattery but a statement of political calculation: Jonathan is irreplaceable. Alexander's decision to make him "friend and ally" (Greek: philon kai symmachon) uses terms from Hellenistic diplomatic vocabulary, where "Friend of the King" was a formal court title carrying legal and material privileges. The author subtly notes the irony that the same Maccabee family that fought against Hellenistic cultural assimilation is now being absorbed into Hellenistic political structures.

Verses 17–18 — The letter and its address. The formal letter opens with "King Alexander to his brother Jonathan." The use of adelphos (brother) is a further technical term of Hellenistic diplomacy, denoting alliance between near-equals rather than a merely subordinate relationship. This diplomatic language is loaded: Jonathan, a Jewish priest from a priestly (not Davidic or royal) family, is being addressed as a peer by a Greek king. The author presents this without overt editorial comment, inviting the reader to hold the honor and the danger in tension.

Verses 19–20 — The appointment as High Priest. This is the theological crux of the passage. Alexander appoints Jonathan "high priest of your nation" — an office that, since the Babylonian Exile and the disappearance of the Davidic monarchy, had become the supreme religious and civil office of the Jewish community. Since the time of the tyrannical Menelaus (see 2 Macc 4), the high priesthood had been trafficked by the Seleucids as a political prize. What Alexander gives Jonathan has enormous religious weight, yet it comes wrapped in unmistakably political motivations. The purple robe and golden crown — symbols of royalty, not merely priesthood — deepen the ambiguity: Jonathan is being dressed in the garb of power, not just piety. The Aaronic high priest's vestments were prescribed by God in Exodus 28; a purple robe gifted by a pagan king is something else entirely.

Catholic tradition reads this passage through the lens of the theology of priesthood, legitimate authority, and the complex relationship between the sacred and the political orders.

On the high priesthood as type: The Catechism teaches that the Levitical priesthood and the figures of the Old Testament "are types, that is, they prefigure and announce" the priesthood of Christ (CCC 1539–1540). Jonathan's assumption of the high priesthood at Tabernacles — a feast with deep eschatological resonance — can be read typologically in light of Christ, who is both High Priest and King (cf. Hebrews 7:1–3, where Melchizedek anticipates a priest-king who transcends the Levitical line). Yet the passage also dramatizes the inadequacy of any merely human high priest appointed by political intrigue: it is precisely because earthly high priesthoods are contingent, politically manipulable, and morally ambiguous that a new and perfect High Priest is needed (Heb 7:11, 26–28).

On political power and sacred office: Pope Gelasius I's famous doctrine of the "two powers" — spiritual and temporal — is prophetically illustrated by this narrative's tensions. The Fathers were deeply aware that when secular rulers appoint or manipulate sacred officers, the integrity of both orders suffers. St. Ambrose, confronting emperors in his own day, exemplified the Catholic conviction that sacred office cannot ultimately derive its legitimacy from political patronage.

On divine providence: The broader context of 1 Maccabees illustrates a central theme of Catholic salvation history: God works through, and sometimes despite, human political arrangements. The Maccabean restoration of the temple and its worship — however imperfect — was understood by the early Church as a providential preparation for the fullness of worship established by Christ. St. Augustine (City of God, XVIII.45) situates the Maccabean struggle within the story of the heavenly city's pilgrimage through history.

This passage confronts the contemporary Catholic with a perennial danger: the corruption of sacred vocation by the logic of worldly prestige and political alliance. Jonathan does not seize the high priesthood by force or apostasy — he is simply offered it, wrapped in honor and purple, by a powerful patron who needs him. This is perhaps the subtler and more common temptation facing Catholic leaders, clergy, and laity alike: not outright compromise, but the gradual entanglement of sacred mission with the need for institutional favor, cultural respectability, or political protection.

For a Catholic in public life — whether a politician, an educator, a medical professional, or a priest — the purple robe is always being offered in some form. The question this passage presses is: from whom does my authority ultimately come, and to whom am I ultimately accountable? Jonathan assumes the vestments at Tabernacles, a feast of dependence on God's providence; but he immediately begins stockpiling weapons. The spiritual practice this passage invites is an honest examination of the sources from which we derive our sense of legitimacy and security, and whether those sources align with or subtly undermine our fidelity to God.