Matthew 2: Awe and Awfulness

“He will be called a Nazarene” (Matt. 2:23).

Probably not the most complimentary description, since, in Jesus’ day, to be called a Nazarene was like calling someone despicable or despised (I can think of a lot of other words I won’t write here).

In John 1, when Phillip told Nathanael that they had found the Messiah and that he was from the little town of Nazareth, Nathanael responded with befuddlement that God would send the Messiah from such a place of questionable reputation. “Nazareth!” said Nathanael, trying to wrap his head around the idea. “Can anything good come from there!?” (see John 1:44-46).

Contrast the perceptions that “Nazarene” provoke with the name God told Joseph to give his son—Jesus (Joshua or Yeshua), meaning the LORD saves (1:21).

Or how about the description, Immanuel, meaning “God with us” (1:23)?

How is it that Jesus, the Messiah, stirs up both feelings of blessing and curse, awe and awfulness? I guess it depends on where you’re coming from in your response to him.

King Herod was not thrilled with the news. I wonder if Herod felt his power threatened. At the news of this baby, he was disturbed, conniving, and paranoid. His ultimate response was to search for him to kill him (2:13).

On the other hand, the Magi from the east couldn’t wait to get to Jesus. They were seeking, responsive, humble, overjoyed, and sacrificial. Their ultimate response was to worship him.

Throughout his life, Jesus worked up all sorts of contrasting feelings in people and conflicting responses to him. I guess he still does.

Matthew 1: Gene Pool

The thought of reading someone’s family tree excites me about as much as spending an afternoon watching CSpan. So when Matthew starts off with a genealogy, my natural tendency is to skip it and get to the good parts.

In spite of that, I figured Matthew must have had a good reason for launching his gospel with Jesus’ ancestral line. I might as well pay attention. Here are some things that jumped out at me.

Five women, including a prostitute and adulteress (Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Uriah’s wife—Bathsheba, Mary). I don’t know much about ancient Jewish genealogies, but I’m pretty sure including women in the list was a major no-no.

What does that say about the mission of Jesus?

A murderer. Yes, David was the beloved king who united the nation of Israel, making it an international superpower, but he was also a murderer and adulterer. Yet in spite of his egregious flaws and sin and because of his repentant heart (see Psalms 32 and 51), God considered him a man after God’s own heart.

A belligerent people so disobedient to God that they were broken apart and deported to Babylon. Three times in this genealogy, Matthew reminds his readers (and us) of the disassembling of God’s people because of their unfaithfulness (1:11, 12, 17). What’s he trying to communicate?

The flow of the genealogy breaks form when it gets to Joseph. Notice it doesn’t say, “Joseph, father of Christ.” It says “Joseph, the husband of Mary, of whom was born Jesus, who is called Christ” (1:16). This break in form would have stuck out to any Jew. Matthew sends a message that God, not Joseph, is Jesus’ Father.

In addition to all that, I’m struck by the mood of the genealogy. The entire movement and every detail of Jesus’ genealogy have this vibe of fulfillment—God’s promises and purposes for his people culminate in the birth of Jesus, the Messiah. I find the whole thing extremely hope-filled.

On a personal level, I think if God’s Son entered the world through a family line as messed up as this, and if God chose to enflesh himself within a family system with these kinds of problems, there’s plenty of grace and hope for me in spite of my own lineage and, for that matter, for anyone, regardless of the family you come from. God’s grace thrives in brokenness. God’s redemptive goodness is uninhibited by human badness. How’s that for hope?

But it’s even bigger than that. Jesus’ lineage goes all the way through David to Abraham: “Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.”

Even though Matthew begins with Abraham, if you take a quick look at Abe’s lineage, beginning with his father, Terah (Genesis 11), his family tree goes all the way back to Adam, all the way back to Genesis 1. Every Jew hearing Matthew’s account would have immediately made that connection. Jesus, as Paul says, is the ultimate Adam (1 Corinthians 15:45), God’s dream come true for what it means to be fully human. God’s creation intent for humanity in Adam becomes God’s creation design fulfilled in his Son, Jesus.

By diving into Jesus’ gene pool, Matthew shows us that the life of Jesus is birthed from within this grand story of God. In spite of numerous set backs, sinful behavior, and questionable characters, God’s trajectory of renewal and restoration for all creation and for every person climaxes in the birth of Jesus, the God-man. In him, Eden returns.

What do you think?

Life Communities: Missional Messiness

My friend, Steve Hambrick at University of Central Florida Wesley, told me the other day that he has been encouraging his students away from a "programmatic" model, toward a more missional mode of campus ministry. If you know me, you that's stuff I'm really passionate about. He used the phrase “missional messiness” with his student leadership to help them understand the rawness of entering into the student culture as God’s people.

I really like that phrase. It’s highly descriptive of an organic approach to “church” for which we have little control, trusting the Holy Spirit to control; an approach we're trying to embrace with our Life Communities.

Missional messiness describes those situations in which we hear stories and encounter people for which there is no playbook to program our response. Missional messiness lets us be okay with dynamic tensions, like Jesus’ redemption in the midst of human rawness.

I think we have to be comfortable with the inherent messiness of missional mode. We have to be comfortable letting go of control, embracing an attitude and lifestyle of response to the never ceasing activity of God.

We have to be comfortable with letting people tell their stories, no matter what the content. We have to be comfortable with the reality that every person’s journey, hopeful or tragic, is intersected by the grace of God.

We have to be comfortable with listening rather than telling—listening to God and to each other.

We have to be comfortable with sharing rather than taking.

With entering the struggle rather than trying to fix the problem.

With serving as the essence of leadership.

With standing under each other in hopes to understand each other.

With eyes to see God showing up in unexpected places—and within unexpected people.

With a God who does not seek our blessing before blessing the lives of others.

With a grace so generous and so untamed.

With moving one another toward Jesus rather than ourselves.

What do you think?

Life Communities: Centers of Light

During Paul’s second missionary journey, his strategy was to establish Christian communities in strategic locations and to nurture them to become beacons of God’s kingdom within the surrounding culture. Roland Allen says Paul’s method was “to establish centres of Christian life in two or three important places from which the knowledge might spread into the country around. This is important…because he intended his congregation to become a centre of light.” He continues by saying that “all the cities, or towns, in which he planted churches were centres of Roman administration, of Greek civilization, of Jewish influence, or of some commercial importance.” (Roland Allen, Missionary Methods: St. Paul’s or Ours? Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1962, 12-13).

I wonder what that looks like today, especially here in America and on this campus? Instead of spending boat loads of dollars on brick and mortar, what if we were to strategically establish and nurture “centers of light” in cities and towns, colleges and universities? For example within the university, to establish and nurture kingdom communities in dorms, Greek houses, apartment complexes, duplexes and triplexes--centers of civilization and influence for thousands of students--would produce an incredible multiplying effect on the movement of the gospel from within the culture. Instead of trying to get students out of their culture to come to our place of meeting, these communities would have a foothold within the culture itself, permeating it with the influence of God’s kingdom.

What incredible influence our network of Life Communities can have on this University of Arkansas culture!

What do you think?

We Have Liftoff

Welcome to the all new Spark Plug blog. Our intention with this humble blog is to initiate thought, conversation and prayer - to provide a spark - for our Life Communities. The majority of content you will find here will be written by Gregg and Omar... the campus ministers at Wesley at the University of Arkansas. But we will also have some "guest blogs" written by some of our friends and heroes.

As this semester unfolds, we will be journeying through the texts of the New Testament that were written by those who had a eye-witness account to the life of Jesus Christ. We'll be reflecting on the history and culture of those times, but also on how these texts form who we are and who we are called to be today.

We'll also be exploring issues of spiritual formation, Christian leadership, and mercy & justice... as well as anything else that comes up in our life and time together. We invite you to trek with us, as well as to engage and respond. We believe that in this day and age community is also being formed online. And to this end we offer this blog to the glory of God, that it may be a means of grace which helps form us into a community where His presence can dwell.

Stay tunned. More to come...