Sermon for Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventists
December 8, 2012
Text: Matthew 1:1-17
Note: this is a slightly edited version of the original.
Imagine you've sat down to watch a
movie. There's music and some graphics then the first scene. You hear
a female voice talking conversationally. You see the legs of a chair.
Two on the floor. Two in the air. The camera pans up. You see a young
woman, perhaps twenty-five years old, in jeans and a sweatshirt, both
stained with paint. An easel and paints are in the background. You
can see trees moving outside through the large windows of the loft. The
artist is leaning back in her chair, feet up on a weathered, oak
desk, her ankles crossed. Papers are stacked on the desk. She's
talking about some guy she was with last night at a gallery when a gust of
wind whips through the studio scattering papers—watercolors? Pen
and ink sketches? Pastels? Bills? Pages of a manuscript?
“Hang on.” she says. She drops to
the floor chasing the papers. We catch hints of color and line on
some of them. Typing on others. Then another gust, and we see a
single sheet of paper waft out the window. The girl doesn't see it.
She's still on her hands and knees gathering the papers on the floor.
She gets all the papers collected,
shuts the window and goes back to her conversation. But you've been
set up. What was on that paper? Who is going to find it? When will
she miss it? Was it a painting? Was her name on it?
Two thousand years ago, when Matthew
wanted to make a movie , he did not have access to a camera, so he
created his movie using the available technology. He wrote it in ink
on papyrus. But just like he was making a movie, he plants some hooks
right at the beginning of his work.
This was before Napster, of course.
Before the Apple Store and Amazon. The only way to share Matthew's
movie was to copy it by hand. And it was so good, that people made
copies, hundreds and hundreds and thousands and thousands of copies,
laboriously copied by hand, one word at a time.
At first, all the copies were made using
ink and papyrus. They were all in Greek. Then people began
translating it into other languages. People with money had their
copies done on parchment instead of papyrus. The ultimate manuscript
upgrade was gold lettering on vellum.
That's how prized this movie was.
[I will display a framed manuscript
page that I received as a gift. It is the first page of the Gospel of
Matthew in Latin written in gold on parchment or vellum.]
This is the first page of the Gospel of
Matthew. It says, in Latin, “The book of the genealogy of Jesus
Christ, son of David, son of Abraham.” It's the opening scene of Matthew's
movie. It sets the stage.
For a thousand years Jews had dreamed
of a Messiah, a hero who would set everything right. Over the
centuries rabbis had elaborated these expectations. They had dreamed
of a hero like King David, a warrior with invincible power to subdue
Israel's geopolitical enemies. They dreamed of a patriarch like
Abraham, a man so dignified, so exalted, even God paid attention to
what he said. The prophets foresaw a hero so holy, so moral and
upright, that the entire world would pay him obeisance, not because
of his power but because of his goodness. The prophets imagined a
hero so spiritual and righteous he would transform the entire nation
into an extraordinary community of perfect harmony, justice and mercy.
Jesus is that hero. Jesus is the
Messiah. This is the story Matthew tells.
The first evidence Matthew presents in
support of his claims about Jesus is a genealogy. Starting with
Abraham, Matthew traces the line of patriarchs down to King David and
the establishment of the monarchy. Then Matthew follows Jesus'
ancestry down through the royal line, through the famous kings of
Judah—Solomon, Josiah, Hezekiah, Jehoshaphat—all the way to the
Babylonian captivity. Then even through the horrific debacle of the
Babylonian captivity and the subsequent chaos Matthew still traces
Jesus' lineage. All the way to Joseph, the husband of Mary, the
mother of Jesus.
At first glance it is very much other genealogies scattered here and there in the Bible, a list of the names of male ancestors. But the mysterious paper flying out the window in Matthew's movie is the inclusion of four women in his genealogy story. They stick out like sore thumbs or like gleaming jewels. Women are not included in genealogies, but Matthew includes them any way. You know instantly they are setting us up for something important. But Matthew says nothing about them. He appears to merely mention them in passing, but you know better.You know they are central to Matthew's story. And you are right.
The way Matthew tells it, there were
fourteen generations from Abraham to David. Exactly 14 from David to
the Babylonian Captivity. Exactly another 14 from the captivity to
Jesus Christ. It is a carefully crafted genealogy. Matthew did not
just copy birth records. He artfully shapes his genealogy to make the point that
Jesus arrived exactly on time, with exactly the right ancestors.
Jesus has the perfect credentials, the perfect pedigree.
Jesus Christ, Jesus the Messiah, the
son of Abraham, the son of David.
Matthew continues the theme of
the royal status of Jesus with his report about the Wise Men. These
foreigners say they have come to see the newborn King of the Jews
because they had seen his star in the East. They pay homage to Jesus
because he is born a king. He is the scion of a royal line.
In chapter 5, Matthew records the
Sermon on the Mount. In this sermon, Jesus sketches out the
principles of his kingdom. Some scholars think Matthew is
deliberately presenting Jesus as the second Moses, the ultimate
lawgiver.Matthew presents Jesus as superior to Moses, giving instruction that superceeded the words of Moses in some cases.
In chapter 13, Jesus tells a series of
parables, distilling the wisdom of the kingdom of heaven. For Matthew
Jesus is the Son of Solomon, the new Wisest Man.
Woven all through the book of Matthew
are snapshots of Jesus' dazzling power. Jesus heals the sick, sets
free the demon-possessed, gives sight to the blind, sets lame people
to dancing, raises the dead.
This is the grand central theme of
Matthew's movie: Jesus is the supreme prophet, the greatest king, the
wisest teacher, the most powerful healer. He is the Messiah. He was
born to be king of a royal line. He fully lived out all the promise
of the Messianic dreams.
Finally the story is coming to an end.
Jesus has been crucified. Still we haven't learned the meaning of the
some of those pages that went wafting out the window right at the
beginning of the story. Why did Matthew include those women in the
genealogy?
There's not much movie left. Jesus
rises from the tomb. Over a period of weeks he appears to groups of
his followers, then he summons them to a final meeting.
In that final meeting, we get it. It
all makes sense. Jesus directs his disciples to go make disciples of
all nations. Not just Jews. After three years of intense
ministry focused almost exclusively on the Jewish people, Jesus
announces that his spiritual family is all humanity. His kingdom is the world, the entire cosmos. And the citizens of his kingdom are determined not by pedigree but by allegiance to the principles of the kingdom.
The fundamental principles are spelled out in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7). They are illustrated in the Parables of the Kingdom (Matthew 13). They are modeled in Jesus interaction with the Leper, the Centurion, the Tax Collector, the Two Daughters and the Pagan Mother (Matthew 8, 9, 15). The principles are summarized most dramatically in the question about the Greatest Commandment, then even more dramatically focused in the story of the Sheep and Goats (Matthew 25).
The fundamental principles are spelled out in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7). They are illustrated in the Parables of the Kingdom (Matthew 13). They are modeled in Jesus interaction with the Leper, the Centurion, the Tax Collector, the Two Daughters and the Pagan Mother (Matthew 8, 9, 15). The principles are summarized most dramatically in the question about the Greatest Commandment, then even more dramatically focused in the story of the Sheep and Goats (Matthew 25).
All of a sudden we get it. In his
opening genealogy, Matthew listed the heroes of Hebrew history,
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, David, Hezekiah showing that Jesus was,
indeed, the fulfillment of the thousand years of dreams and
prophecies and temple liturgy. And Matthew included the four women,
Tamar, Rahab, Ruth and the wife of Uriah—all non Jews.
Notice two of them in particular, Rahab
and Ruth. Both are heroes in their respective stories. They act as
saviors. Rahab was a prostitute in Jericho in the time of Joshua.
Joshua sent two spies into the city in preparation for the Jewish
invasion of Palestine. Rahab hides the spies from the police who are
hot on their trail. In return the spies promise to protect her and
her family when the Israelites invade—a promise they keep. Matthew
informs us that this Canaanite madam married a Jewish man—was he
one of the spies? We don't know. In any case her son is chosen to
carry forward the messianic line.
The next woman mentioned in Matthew's
genealogy is Ruth. A Jewish couple Naomi and Elimelech emigrated to
Moab. There, their two sons, Mahlon and Kilion, married local girls.
Then Naomi's husband and both her sons died. Naomi is broken. She
tells her daughters-in-law to go back to their father's homes. She
has nothing for them. She is going to return to Israel to see if she
can eke out an existence there.
Ruth insists on accompanying her
mother-in-law. "Where you go, I will go. Your people will be my
people, your God my God.
Back in Israel Ruth works to provide
food for her mother-in-law. Naomi manages to set Ruth up with a rich,
good relative. They get married. Ruth's first born, Obed, is chosen
to carry on the Messianic line.
The stories of Rahab and Ruth are
especially dramatic because God set aside his own explicitly
stated rules to include them.
The people of Jericho were so bad, that
God had ordered the Jews to obliterate the city, killing all the
people and even all the animals. It was a horrific order, but the
writer of the Book of Joshua makes doubly sure that we understand
this order came directly from God and that God would severely
punish any deviation from it.
Then the same writer includes the story
of how Joshua authorized saving Rahab, and not
just Rahab herself, but also everyone she had with her in her house.
Ruth was a
Moabite. In Deuteronomy 23, Moses had explicitly stated that no
Moabite was to be given citizenship among the people of God for a
full ten generations after they first came to live in the nation. Ten
generations!!!! For us that would be forever.
So, in
Deuteronomy God says, "No Moabites!" Then a few pages later in the Bible we find an entire
book telling the sweet story of the violation of that rule. Ruth was
immediately welcomed into Israel. She was made an ancestor of the
Messiah. She is recorded as the great grandmother of King David.
Rahab and Ruth. Matthew puts his
cryptic reference to them right at the beginning of his book. On the
basis of the explicit command of God they should have been excluded.
Instead, they were given the highest honor that could be given to a
Jewish woman—they were made mothers of the Messiah.They are honored because they showed mercy, because they saved people. Rahab saved the spies. Ruth saved her mother-in-law. God honored their compassion.
Remember the woman at the beginning of
the sermon: what was the paper that blew out the window? It was a
letter from home, from Mama. It talked about how Daddy was doing in
prison and how bad the trailer smelled because of a leak under the
kitchen sink that she couldn't afford to fix.
The young woman's last name was
Merrill, as in Merrill Lynch. She grew up dirt poor in northern Mississippi. She had won a scholarship to
Exeter Academy. Her first week there, she was sitting by herself in
the cafeteria. Some girls joined her. When they heard her name they
made some assumptions which she did not correct. That weekend she was
invited to one of their homes. She was introduced as a Merrill. Again
people made assumptions. She was in. She was from old money. She had
pedigree.
And in that world pedigree mattered.
She was bright. Earned a full ride at
Bryn Mawr. Now she was in New York City, yesterday her first show
opened in a local gallery. She had a boyfriend, a Rockefeller. He was there last night. He has been dazzled by her as a person. He admires her work as an artist. He was walking up the sidewalk toward her loft when the letter from home wafts out Sally's window
and drifted down. He sees it. Picks it up and reads it.
Now, you know the plot is going to turn
on the question: Will Mr. Rockefeller value Sally on the basis of her
work and her character or on the basis of her pedigree just now revealed in that letter from home?
This is the question that Matthew comes
back to repeatedly in his story of Jesus. He is talking to Jewish
people, people with a thousand years of pedigree in the bank. Jesus
the Messiah, the ultimate Jew over and over challenges his Jewish
audience to recognize the poverty of pedigree. At one point Jesus
even says, “God can create children from rocks, if necessary. He
doesn't need you.”
In the book of Matthew Jesus is both
the king of the Jews and the king of all humanity. His kingdom is
founded not on pedigree but on character.
Rahab and Ruth are included in the
Jesus pedigree because both
acted saviors. Rahab saved the spies. Ruth served her mother-in-law.
Those acts of service trumped any disadvantage of ancestry.
In the Christmas season we celebrate
the birth of the Christ child. He belongs not just to Jewish people.
Not just to Christian people. He belongs to the world. What is the
mark of our belonging? Not pedigree, but character. Jesus makes this
point repeatedly in his teaching and his example.
In Matthew's gospel, the
grand climax of Jesus' teaching is the story of the sheep and goats.
The sheep are the good people and the goats are the bad people. When
the great judge commends the sheep for their goodness in giving Jesus
food and water and a visit when he was incarcerated, the sheep
object. “We never saw you hungry or thirsty.” God responds, “What
you did to the lowliest persons, you did to me” (Matt. 25). The
goats are excluded because they refused to give care. The great
divide between the saved and lost is not religious heritage or
theological purity. It is the fundamental question: how did you
respond to ordinary human need and well-being.
As our hearts are warmed by the generosity and kindness inspired by the Advent season, let's remember that generosity, compassion and care are the most salient values of the kingdom birthed with the Christ Child.
2 comments:
Beautiful. I love it.
love this post
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