1 Maccabees 3:38–41

1 Maccabees 3:38 — The Three Commanders. Lysias, the regent of the Seleucid Empire appointed by Antiochus IV Epiphanes to govern the western regions during the king's eastern campaign (1 Macc 3:32–33), does not lead the army personally; he delegates to three commanders of the highest rank: Ptolemy son of Dorymenes, Nicanor, and Gorgias. Each is described as among the king's "friends" (Greek: philoi tou basileos), a technical designation in Hellenistic courts for a senior class of courtiers enjoying privileged intimacy with the monarch — not merely companions, but trusted power brokers. Nicanor and Gorgias reappear prominently in subsequent chapters; Nicanor's eventual defeat and death (1 Macc 7; 2 Macc 15) became so celebrated that the date of his defeat was commemorated as "Nicanor's Day" in Jewish tradition. By naming these men, the author invites the reader to understand the existential seriousness of the threat: this is not a punitive raid, but a campaign organized at the highest levels of imperial power.

1 Maccabees 3:39 — The Scale of the Force. Forty thousand infantry and seven thousand cavalry represent an enormous military commitment — a force sized not for suppression of a local rebellion but for the complete conquest and pacification of a territory. The phrase "to destroy it, according to the word of the king" (kata ton logon tou basileos) underscores that this is not a strategic military calculation alone but the expression of imperial will backed by royal decree — a word that claims absolute authority. This language implicitly contrasts with the word of the Lord, which alone carries true sovereignty over Israel's fate. The crushing disproportion of the force against Judas's small, poorly equipped band (cf. 1 Macc 3:15–24) is theologically deliberate: the author is composing a narrative in which human resources mean nothing, and divine assistance everything.

1 Maccabees 3:40 — Emmaus. The army encamps at Emmaus, a town in the Shephelah foothills at the edge of the Judean plain (modern-day Latrun area). Emmaus was strategically positioned: it controlled the principal road from the coastal plain into the hill country toward Jerusalem. Its selection as an encampment reflects sound military logic — a base from which to launch coordinated strikes into the highlands. For the alert Catholic reader, the name Emmaus already resonates typologically. The Gospel of Luke (24:13–35) will immortalize another Emmaus as the site of the Risen Christ's self-revelation in the breaking of bread. Here, at this same name, the forces of oppression gather; there, centuries later, the forces of death will be decisively undone by Christ's resurrection. The geography of Scripture is never merely incidental.

1 Maccabees 3:41 — The Merchants and the Fetters. The detail of merchants arriving with silver, gold, and chains (Greek: pedai, fetters) is among the most morally chilling in the entire book. They have heard of the army's "fame" — its power and purpose — and have come not as combatants but as opportunists, entrepreneurs of human misery. The slave trade was a well-established economy attached to ancient military campaigns; victorious armies produced prisoners, and merchants were ready to purchase and distribute them. The fetters are brought in anticipation: the children of Israel are not yet captured, yet chains are already prepared for their wrists. This anticipatory enslavement — the commercial infrastructure of oppression assembling before the battle — exposes the depth of the world's hostility to the covenant people. That forces from Syria and "the land of the Philistines" (the coastal regions, recalling Israel's ancient enemies) join the coalition deepens the typological resonance: this is not merely a Seleucid campaign, but a recapitulation of the ancient pattern of surrounding nations conspiring against Israel.

Typological and Spiritual Senses. The Fathers read Israel's persecutions typologically as figures of the Church's experience of worldly hostility. The three commanders may be read as representing the world, the flesh, and the devil — the triple alliance that besieges the soul. The fetters prepared by the merchants recall the bondage of sin, which is fashioned and readied before its victims have yet fallen. The encampment at Emmaus, in light of Luke 24, invites a resurrection typology: where evil seems to gather in triumphant force, Christ will ultimately reveal himself.

Catholic tradition reads the Book of 1 Maccabees as a deuterocanonical text of the inspired Old Testament canon (affirmed at the Council of Trent, Session IV, 1546, and reaffirmed by Vatican I and the Pontifical Biblical Commission), and therefore as a genuine witness to salvation history — not mere historical chronicle, but the Word of God disclosing the pattern of divine providence amid persecution.

The massing of overwhelming Seleucid power against a handful of faithful Jews illuminates what the Catechism of the Catholic Church calls the "great trial" (CCC §675) through which the Church must pass, prefigured throughout the Old Testament: a moment when "the power of evil" seems to prevail and the covenant community appears on the verge of extinction. The Church Fathers, particularly Origen in his Homilies on Joshua and On First Principles, consistently read Israel's military crises as figures of the soul's spiritual combat — the demonic forces marshaling against the human person who seeks to live in fidelity to God.

The merchants with their fetters evoke the Church's perennial social teaching that the reduction of human persons to economic commodities is a primordial evil. The Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church (§158) grounds human dignity in the imago Dei, and the trafficking scene in verse 41 is a stark ancient image of what Gaudium et Spes (§27) lists among "infamies" that poison human civilization — slavery foremost among them.

St. Ambrose, in De officiis, cited the Maccabean resistance as a supreme example of fortitudo — fortitude, one of the cardinal virtues — noting that true courage is not the absence of fear before overwhelming odds, but steadfastness in righteousness when every human calculation counsels surrender.

Contemporary Catholics live in a culture that increasingly presents the faith as an eccentric, even dangerous, deviation from enlightened norms — a situation that differs in degree, not in kind, from the pressure applied to Jews under Antiochus. The "merchants with fetters" are not merely ancient figures: they represent every cultural, commercial, and ideological force that profits from the spiritual surrender of believers, whether through the commodification of sexuality, the normalization of materialism, or the social penalties attached to publicly held Christian convictions.

The practical lesson is one of proportion and trust. Judas Maccabeus would face forty-seven thousand soldiers with a few thousand poorly armed men. The text does not pretend the odds are reasonable. It asks instead whether the faithful will act from faith or from calculation. Catholics navigating hostile workplaces, secular academic environments, or fractured families are called to the same realism — acknowledging the magnitude of the opposition — and the same theological conviction: that the word of the King of kings outweighs the decree of any earthly sovereign. Concretely, this passage invites the reader to examine where they have been tempted to fashion their own fetters in advance, accommodating themselves to a spiritual captivity not yet imposed, out of fear of what may come.