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?