The Third Saturday of Advent -- December 17, 2011

Matthew 1:1 - 17

This is the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham:

Abraham was the father of Isaac, Isaac the father of Jacob, Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers,

Judah the father of Perez and Zerah, whose mother was Tamar, Perez the father of Hezron, Hezron the father of Ram,

Ram the father of Amminadab, Amminadab the father of Nahshon, Nahshon the father of Salmon,

Salmon the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab, Boaz the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth, Obed the father of Jesse,

and Jesse the father of King David. David was the father of Solomon, whose mother had been Uriah’s wife,

Solomon the father of Rehoboam, Rehoboam the father of Abijah, Abijah the father of Asa,

Asa the father of Jehoshaphat, Jehoshaphat the father of Jehoram, Jehoram the father of Uzziah,

Uzziah the father of Jotham, Jotham the father of Ahaz, Ahaz the father of Hezekiah,

Hezekiah the father of Manasseh, Manasseh the father of Amon, Amon the father of Josiah,

and Josiah the father of Jeconiah and his brothers at the time of the exile to Babylon.

After the exile to Babylon: Jeconiah was the father of Shealtiel, Shealtiel the father of Zerubbabel,

Zerubbabel the father of Abiud, Abiud the father of Eliakim, Eliakim the father of Azor,

Azor the father of Zadok, Zadok the father of Akim, Akim the father of Eliud,

Eliud the father of Eleazar, Eleazar the father of Matthan, Matthan the father of Jacob,

and Jacob the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary, and Mary was the mother of Jesus who is called the Messiah.

Thus there were fourteen generations in all from Abraham to David, fourteen from David to the exile to Babylon, and fourteen from the exile to the Messiah.


Once you realize where this passage is headed, it takes some real intention -- and patience! -- to read all the way through the genealogy. It's easier to skip it, or to scan it for recognizable names before moving on.

The story of Jesus' birth and life is more than Gabriel's announcement to Mary, more than Mary and Joseph's long-distance trek to Bethlehem, more than shepherds in the fields and heavenly hosts and strange visitors from the East bearing gifts.

There is a back-story, a story to know behind and beneath the major plot-line. Matthew began his Gospel, not with a suddenly-appearing, angelic-inspired birth narrative, but with a genealogy, as if to remind us that Jesus had a history and that his coming was in continuity with what God had been doing in the world for centuries.

I, too, have a history, just as you do. God chose my parents to bring me into the world . . .

. . . a father who had been raised in a small town on the northern plains of Oklahoma, a country-boy who enjoyed his privacy and loved wide-open spaces, but who ended up making a life in the city as a very recognizable public person. I don't know that he ever reconciled his desire for a hidden, quiet life with his public persona. I learned competitiveness from him, and a love for books.

[I never remember a time when there was not a stack of books beside his chair in the den. Some of my earliest memories growing up were of going to bookstores with him as he selected his next batch of reading material.]

. . . and a mother whose entire life was wrapped up in her husband and three sons. She shuttled her boys to school and practices, was homeroom mother for three classes at once, never missed a play or assembly that had to do with her sons, and may have never missed a game her boys played in, no matter how far away it might have been. Some of my earliest memories include being scared of the dark at a very young age -- imagining boogey-men and ghouls outside my bedroom window in the night sky -- and being so frightened that each night's bedtime was fresh trauma. She would sit outside my door in the hallway where I could see her from my bed . . . reading a book or writing letters, and stay there until I fell asleep. It was her presence that made a scared little boy feel safe, certain that the mystery outside my window would not overwhelm me.

I have a spiritual history, too, other names of those on whose shoulders I've stood . . . names like Ignatius and Benedict . . . Sr Adeline and Sr Ann . . . Peterson and Keating and Rohr . . . Hopkins, Oliver, Rilke and Stafford.

Perhaps we would find some space today to consider our genealogy . . . or at least to reflect on our own spiritual history.

Who am I? And how did I get here? What is my back-story?