“And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” [Luke 1:31-33 (ESV)]
Most of us breeze through (or skip altogether) the Bible’s genealogies. Nevertheless, when genealogy and all those “begats” seem so important in Scripture, what explanation is there for the difference between the genealogies of Jesus found in Luke and Matthew? Because Jews were meticulous about recording genealogies, it’s inconceivable to have two conflicting yet correct lists of Jesus’ lineage.
The two gospels agree on one important point—neither Luke nor Matthew call Joseph Jesus’ “father”. Matthew refers to him as the “the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born, who is called Christ” and Luke simply says that Jesus was enomizeto (considered, thought to be, or assumed) to be Joseph’s son. While the two genealogies agree from Abraham to David, they differ from then on. Matthew says David’s son Solomon was Jesus’ ancestor and Luke says it was David’s son Nathan. While there are a variety of convoluted explanations, most biblical scholars believe these are two different, but equally correct, genealogies—Matthew’s through Jesus’ legal father, Joseph, and Luke’s through His birth mother, Mary.
With his frequent references to the Hebrew Scriptures and emphasis on Jesus’ fulfillment of Messianic prophecies, Matthew’s gospel has a distinctly Jewish viewpoint and it is believed that he directed his gospel to Jews and Jewish believers. Reflecting the importance of the Messiah’s lineage to the Jewish people, Matthew’s gospel begins by calling Jesus “the Messiah, a descendant of David and Abraham” and follows the traditional Hebrew format of going from the past to the present where he again identifies Jesus as the Messiah. Although Joseph was Jesus’ father in name only, he was the Lord’s legal father and scholars believe Matthew provided Jesus’ official (paternal) genealogy from Abraham to David to David’s son Solomon and eventually to Joseph. His list emphasized both Jesus’s legal right to be the king of the Jews as well as His fulfillment of the Messianic prophecies.
On the other hand, Luke addressed his gospel to the “most honorable Theophilus” and his primary audience is thought to have been mostly Gentile Greeks. Luke lists Jesus’ ancestry the Greek way and goes from the present to ancient past. Unlike Matthew, he doesn’t stop with Abraham but continues all the way back to Adam. Scholars believe Luke’s to be Jesus’ actual physical lineage through His mother Mary and her father Heli. While giving a mother’s lineage was unusual, so was a virgin birth! To a Gentile, if Jesus weren’t the physical son of Joseph, there would be no need to know the man’s genealogy. Rather than Solomon, Jesus’ royal lineage comes through a blood relationship with Mary’s ancestor Nathan, another of David’s sons with Bathsheba.
Luke placed Jesus’ genealogy after His baptism when the Holy Spirit descended on Him and a voice from heaven said, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” That heavenly voice established Jesus’ divinity—that He was the son of God. By tracing Jesus’ line all the way back to the first man, Adam, Luke established the dual nature of Jesus—that He was fully human as well as divine. It also emphasized Jesus’ relevance, not just to Jews, but to the entire human race.
We’re left with the problem of Joseph’s father—Matthew says it was Jacob while Luke says Joseph was ”of” Heli. It is believed that Heli was Mary’s father and, with no Greek word for “son-in-law,” scholars posit that Joseph became Heli’s “son” through his marriage to Mary.
Rather than contradicting one another, these two genealogies complement each other by giving us both Jesus’ official and actual lineage. They agree that Mary was Jesus’ mother, that her husband Joseph was not Jesus’ father, and that Jesus descended from the family of Judah as well as the house of David both legally (through Joseph) and by bloodline (through Mary). They show that Jesus fulfilled God’s promise of offspring to Abraham as well as his promise to David that His offspring would sit on his throne forever.
Contradiction is not a sign of falsity, nor the lack of contradiction a sign of truth. [Blaise Pascal]
The tradition of New Year’s resolutions goes back over 4,000 years to the ancient Babylonians (whose new year began in mid-March with the spring equinox). During their 12-day celebration called Akitu, they either crowned a new king or reaffirmed their loyalty to the old one. To ensure the gods’ favor, they promised to return borrowed items and pledged the repayment of all their debts.
Tomorrow, December 6, is the Feast of St. Nicholas (or Sinterklass). Although it is difficult to know fact from fiction, we do know that St. Nicholas was born around 270 AD in Patara, a city in Lycia (modern day Turkey). The son of wealthy and devout parents, it was his uncle, the Bishop of Patara, who took charge of his spiritual life. Nicholas became the Bishop of Myra in Turkey, quite likely attended the council of Nicaea, spent seven years imprisoned under Diocletian Persecution, and died on December 6, around 343 AD. While we don’t know much about the man, he must have had a great impact on the early Christian church because, by 450 AD, churches in Asia Minor and Greece were named in his honor and, by the mid-6th century, the Emperor Justinian dedicated a church to him in Constantinople.
In C.S. Lewis’ children’s fantasy novel The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, the youngest child, Lucy Pevensie, happens upon an enchanted armoire and steps into the magical world of Narnia. Upon returning, she rushes to tell her siblings of her astonishing adventure. Hearing such a tall tale and finding no concrete proof of its truth, her older siblings assume the story to be a figment of her imagination. They take their concern over her falsehood to their wise elderly uncle. He cautions them to use logic and consider Lucy’s story carefully. He points out there are only three possibilities: either she’s lying, crazy, or telling the truth. After pointing out that lies usually are more plausible than Lucy’s inexplicable tale, he asks if she’s lied before. The children admit she’s always been truthful. After pointing out that none of Lucy’s behavior indicates mental illness, they all agree she can’t have gone mad. He then suggests that since she’s neither a liar nor crazy, they could consider the possibility that Lucy’s story is true.
Pope Francis recently visited Singapore and, when speaking to young people at an interfaith meeting, he is reported to have said “All religions are paths to God.” After comparing the various religions to “different languages that express the divine,” he added, “There is only one God, and each of us has a language to arrive at God. Some are Sheik, Muslim, Hindu, Christian, and they are different paths [to God].” While the pontiff was encouraging interfaith dialogue, his words are troubling. I will not presume to know the Pope’s meaning or intention with his comments. Nevertheless, I find it important to address how the world understood the pontiff’s message.
I was married fifty-seven years ago today. When I promised to love, comfort, honor, cherish, forsake all others, and to have and to hold my husband “for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health” until we parted at death, I had no idea just how bad “for worse” could get, how little money “for poorer” might be, or that sickness could mean much more than a case of the flu. I certainly never pictured us growing old with wrinkles, white hair, hearing aids, bifocals, arthritis, and the limitations that come advanced years.