CHAPTER 1
Matthew 1:1â17
1This is the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah the son of David, the son of Abraham:
2Abraham was the father of Isaac,
Isaac the father of Jacob,
Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers,
3Judah the father of Perez and Zerah, whose mother was Tamar,
Perez the father of Hezron,
Hezron the father of Ram,
4Ram the father of Amminadab,
Amminadab the father of Nahshon,
Nahshon the father of Salmon,
5Salmon the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab,
Boaz the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth,
Obed the father of Jesse,
6and Jesse the father of King David.
David was the father of Solomon, whose mother had been Uriahâs wife,
7Solomon the father of Rehoboam,
Rehoboam the father of Abijah,
Abijah the father of Asa,
8Asa the father of Jehoshaphat,
Jehoshaphat the father of Jehoram,
Jehoram the father of Uzziah,
9Uzziah the father of Jotham,
Jotham the father of Ahaz,
Ahaz the father of Hezekiah,
10Hezekiah the father of Manasseh,
Manasseh the father of Amon,
Amon the father of Josiah,
11and Josiah the father of Jeconiah and his brothers at the time of the exile to Babylon.
12After the exile to Babylon:
Jeconiah was the father of Shealtiel,
Shealtiel the father of Zerubbabel,
13Zerubbabel the father of Abihud,
Abihud the father of Eliakim,
Eliakim the father of Azor,
14Azor the father of Zadok,
Zadok the father of Akim,
Akim the father of Elihud,
15Elihud the father of Eleazar,
Eleazar the father of Matthan,
Matthan the father of Jacob,
16and Jacob the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary, and Mary was the mother of Jesus who is called the Messiah.
17Thus 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.
Listening to the Text in the Story: Genesis 1:1â5:2; 12:1â3; 15:1â6; 17:1â19; 38:6â26; 49:9â12; Joshua 2:1â21; 6:22â25; Ruth 1:22â4:22; 1 Samuel 16:1â13; 2 Samuel 2:1â4; 5:1â5; 7:1â16; 11:2â12:25; 23:1â7; 2 Kings 24:10â25:26; 1 Chronicles 1:34; 2:1â15; 3:1â19.
The story of Jesus the Messiah didnât begin with his birthâas fantastic as it was. Rather, Matthew believed the only way his readers would be able to make sense of the life of Jesus, from his birth to his resurrection, was to go back to the beginning of Israelâs story. Of course, to tell a condensed version of the entire story of Israel in proseâno matter how briefâwould take several pages of precious papyri. Besides, it wouldnât be necessary; Matthew assumes his readers know the macrostory embedded in the genealogy of Jesus. Reciting a revised version of Jesusâs ancestry from Abraham to Joseph would sound like a roll call that echoed the promises of God.1 Thatâs because God made promises to certain individuals for the sake of all his people. The covenant between God and Israel was always mediated through one man. God promised Abraham that he would be the father of many descendants who would inherit the earth. God promised one of Jacobâs sons, Judah, that a king would come from his tribe. God promised King David that one of his great-great-great-(how many great?)-grandsons would bring justice to Israel forever. Israelâs hope started with one man (âthe father of a multitudeâ) and would end with another (the Messiah, âthe anointed oneâ). Indeed, what Matthew claims from the beginning is that one manâthat one hopeâthe Messiah of Israel, has come in the person of Jesus. In him all the promises of God come true.
That would be quite a lofty claim for several reasons, but especially because over the centuries God made many promises to Israel that had not come true. In fact, that is what made the God of Israel rather unique: he is the kind of God that makes promises and then leaves, expecting his people to trust him in the meantime. God promised the seventy-five-year-old Abraham that he would be the father of millions of descendants, as many as the stars of the heavens and the grains of sand on the earth, and that they would inherit a land of their own. The problem, of course, was that Abraham was a nomad, had no children, and time was running out; he was already an old man and his wife was persistently barren (considered at that time as the curse of God). I can imagine âfatherâ Abraham staring into the night sky and muttering to himself, âReally? That many descendants? To dream of such things is all well and good, but it would be nice to have one.â Nearly twenty-five years later, God finally shows up and delivers the good news to the more-than-patient couple. The old man and his elderly wife will finally get a start on seeing the lofty vision come true: they will have a son, Isaac, and God will get the last laugh. Israel eventually multiplies like rabbits in the fertile land of Egypt. Yet the question remained: Would they ever inherit the earth?
The same thing happened to David. God promised David that his kingdom would be so stable that it would last forever. And yet, even though David managed to unite the divided tribal confederacy under his reign, he didnât seem capable of ruling his own divided house. A rebel son who forced his father to abdicate the throne temporarily, another sonâs incestuous rape of his sister, the murder of one son by another, the death of the infant son born of Davidâs adulterous relationship with Bathsheba, the rebel son assassinated by the kingâs captainâhow could anyone claim (especially David) that Godâs promise was coming true? If anything, Davidâs kingdom appeared destined for self-destruction, for everyone knows that a house divided against itself cannot stand. And even though Solomonâs reign brought unrivaled peace and prosperity, after Davidâs son died a civil war broke out between the north and the southâa civil war that was never resolvedâand eventually ripped apart the indivisible kingdom. It was just a matter of time before a foreign power, a stronger king, would show up and finish off the crippled kingdom. Babylonian captivity seemed to dispel any notion that Davidâs house would stand forever. So, even though Israel didnât find the strength to âsing the songs of the LORD while in a foreign landâ (Ps 137:4), they still wanted to know: When will God make good on the promises he made to David, to Abraham, to all Israel? Where is the son of David who will bring the reign of Godâs justice? How will the children of Abrahamâscattered like nomadsâever inherit the promised land? When will their captivity end?
Matthew thinks he has the answer.
The first line of Matthewâs Gospel reads like a title; literally, âA book [biblos] of genesis [geneseĹs] of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham.â Is Matthew 1:1 the title of the entire Gospel? It could be because Mark did the same thing, stringing together several nouns without a verb, âThe beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of Godâ (Mark 1:1). Moreover, the books of the Law took their titles from the first word or phrase of each; for example, Genesis is designated as bereâshith (âin the beginningâ), and Exodus is known by the title weâelleh shemoth (âand these are the namesâ). English titles of the Old Testament books, however, derive from the Septuagint (LXX), the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures; for example, Genesis (genesis) comes from 2:4; literally, âThis is the book [biblos] of genesis [geneseĹs] of heaven and earth.â Therefore, some suggest that Matthew intended his readers to hear an echo of the first book of the Bible in the title of his Gospel, as if he were writing the story of a new Genesis, a new beginning through Jesus Christ.2 As appealing as that may sound to our ears, the problem is that the word genesis appears several places in Genesis (2:4; 5:1; 6:9; 10:1, 32; 11:10, 27; 25:12, 19; 36:1; 37:2) as the heading of a series of stories (often including a genealogy) that trace the lineage or âgenerationsâ of a particular patriarch. Furthermore, Matthew uses genesis to introduce the story of the birth of Jesus; literally, âthe genesis [genesis] of Jesus Christ was like thisâ (1:18). So it is more likely that Matthew 1:1 is not a title for the entire Gospel but a heading for both the genealogy of Jesus, âThis is the genealogy [geneseĹs] of Jesus the Messiah the son of David, the son of Abraham,â and the birth narrative, âThis is how the birth [genesis] of Jesus the Messiah came aboutâ (1:18).
Jesusâs Family Tree
We may be drawn to the names Matthew singles out in verse one: Abraham, David, Jesus. Indeed, the genealogical tableâby its very structureâhighlights these three as the MVPs of Israelâs story. It starts with Abraham, peaks with David, and ends with Jesusâthe trinity of salvation history. Curiosity might draw our eyes to the four women listed, three by name and one by association, leading us to infer that the point of the genealogy is to give voice to the marginalized, to include outsiders, to privilege the scandalous. Others might delight in the threefold schema built around a rhythmic pattern of fourteen names that signal the turning points of Israelâs story embedded in Abrahamâs family tree. Time marches to the beat of an unalterable destiny. Finally, the type A bean counters among us might trip over the mathematical problem of adding up fourteen generations when only thirteen names are listed in the third group. Crunching the numbers while comparing Matthewâs genealogy with other lists forces us to tease out the implications of why certain names appear and why others are completely ignored. Certainly Matthew could count (he was a tax collector, after all), so why the gaps? Are we supposed to read between the lines and discover a subliminal messageâcertain names have been âblotted outâ from the sacred recordâintended for those who have eyes to see and ears to hear? To be sure, Matthewâs unique genealogical list invites intrigue. Yet we shouldnât miss the main point of the genealogy, the âsilentâ partner who is easily overlooked because his assumed presence goes without saying. The major figure of Jesusâs family tree is God.3
It is easy to get lost in the genealogy, assuming a biological momentum to the perpetual force of life. Of course we know that âAbraham was the father of Isaac,â and that âIsaac was the father of Jacob,â and so on. But thatâs not the whole story, as if becoming a father is naturally to be expected. Rather, Matthew assumes we know the story behind the âbegats,â the theological presumption within the story of Israel. Israel didnât come into existence by ânatural processes.â Abraham didnât wake up one day and say to himself, âI think Iâll start a nation today.â Rather, God created Israel. God chose a Chaldean and brought life to his dead loins. God chose a dead womb to bring laughter to the world. If it werenât for God, Israel wouldnât exist at all. Therefore, like all of creationâevery living thing!âIsrael belongs to God. Thatâs why he kept making promises to Israel. They are his children; he is their father. And like any good father would intend, his children were meant to be blessed. So every name that appears in the genealogy represents both blessing and promise; every son of the covenant embodies both the fulfillment and hope of Godâs promise.
And yet, the way Matthew sees it, the story of Godâs covenant with Israel canât be reduced to a list of names revealing a direct line of descent, tracing the proper lineage of kingship. For if that were the case, one would simply show how Jesus has the proper messianic pedigree, listing his lineage from David to Joseph. Rather, Matthew believes Israelâs story and Jesusâs family history turn on two significant events, two pivotal persons: the kingdom finally arriving with David, and the Babylonian exile beginning with Jeconiah. Indeed, the ordering of the generations into three groups of fourteen leads the reader to mark the turning point of Godâs dealings with Israel during these two decisive transitions. David bridges the first two groups, Jeconiah the last two. David represents the high-water mark of Godâs blessing (the kingdom has come!), while Jeconiahâs reign marks the beginning of the end (the kingdom is gone?). In other words, Jesusâs genealogy not only reveals Israelâs ascent to kingship but also Israelâs descent into exile. But to simplify the graph of Godâs blessing as a straight line peaking with David only to drop off precipitously like a downward vector marking the stock-market crash is misleading. There have been bumps and bruises, ups and downs along the way of Godâs covenant blessing. Names like Tamar and Judah, David and Uriah, Hezekiah and Manasseh remind the reader that the high points and low points of Israelâs story are mingled together. Even during the exile, one should not infer that Israel was abandoned by God, as if there were no bright spots shining in the darkness. God was still blessing Israel by begetting sons of David in Babylon. It was one of those born in exile who le...