Advent is a season in which Christians take time to pause and reflect on the arrival of Jesus of Nazareth. This is a time when we remember how the king of the universe did not come with loud trumpets and royal welcomes, but clothed in humility, laid in a manger. Advent, at its core, is a recognition of the way God chooses to use unconventional methods and imperfect people to bring forth His purposes in the world. Matthew the Apostle begins his account of the life of Jesus in a manner many modern readers may find puzzling – with a long list of names. While the significance of such an opening is sure to be lost on many in the modern western world, the ancient reader would most likely be fascinated by the genealogy presented in the first verses of Matthew’s Gospel. In the ancient world, tracing someone’s genealogical heritage served as something like a biological resume. And by ancient standards, Jewish or otherwise, Jesus’ is an impressive one. Jesus’ ancestry includes many notable Jewish figures, including Zerubabbel, Josiah, even King David. New Testament scholar NT Wright frames it like this:
“Most Jews, telling the story of Israel’s ancestry, would begin with Abraham; but only a select few, by the first century AD, would trace their own line through King David. Even fewer would be able to continue by going on through Solomon and the other kings of Judah all the way to the exile… The child who comes at the end of this line is God’s anointed, the long-awaited Messiah, to fulfil all the layers and levels of the prophecies of old.”1
Yet it isn’t simply the notable figures in Jesus’ ancestry that make the first lines of Matthew’s advent story stand out. Perhaps equally as striking as the powerful names noted are the seemingly unimpressive names he chooses to include. The ancient tradition of tracing genealogies usually involved only including the greatest and most notable figures in one’s ancestry, in order to bolster their significance and nobility. Yet, Matthew has chosen to include names such as Tamar, Rahab, and Bathsheba in Jesus’ line. Those who understand the stories of these individuals will know what makes them stand apart from the others. Tamar disguised herself as a prostitute to seduce her father-in-law, Judah, in order to preserve the Messianic line. Rahab was a Canaanite prostitute who chose to protect Israelite spies who were scouting Jericho. Bathsheba was stolen away from her husband, who was later murdered by the aforementioned King David after she conceived his child outside of wedlock. In addition to each of their complicated, even questionable stories, all were also non-Jewish women – those who would have been considered of secondary importance alongside male contemporaries in the ancient world.
Why did Matthew include such figures? It seems as though Matthew wants to highlight the way God chooses to use even those with complicated–even painful–stories to bring forth His purposes in the world. In spite of each of their stories, each of these women are viewed as righteous in the New Testament writings. Their lives are prime examples of the way God can produce beauty out of difficult circumstances. It is only through His great-grandmothers Tamar, Rahab, and Bathsheba, that the world was given the king of the universe we celebrate through Advent. And in Jesus’ kingdom, even the oppressed have a voice, no story is beyond redemption, and the seemingly insignificant are invited to participate in the purposes of God. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer reminds us: “The celebration of Advent is possible only to those who are troubled in soul… who know themselves to be poor and imperfect, and who look forward to something greater to come.”2
Have a blessed Advent season!
Pastor Nick Pine
Sources:
1 Wright, N.T., Matthew for Everyone, Part 1
2 Bonhoeffer, Dietrich, God is in the Manger