The Preacher's Heritage
Series: The Prophet Preacher
Luke 3:21-38
Baptism of the Lord.
This winter, we will consider
Jesus as the “prophet preacher.” That is how the Gospel of Luke regards him. Jesus
comes to proclaim the living word of God. He speaks in the voice of a prophet. Sometimes
he raises his voice, which is often how we regard a prophet. Other times he
chuckles, even whispers, and the effect is no less profound. This prophet
preacher comes with the power of Holy Spirit, and his words change the world.
So we will spend time this winter with him.
The first issue is his
heritage. Where does Jesus come from? And to that question, Luke provides his
answer. Listen:
Now
when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and
was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him
in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the
Beloved; with
you I am well pleased.”
Jesus
was about thirty years old when he began his work.
He
was the son (as was thought) of Joseph son of Heli,
son
of Matthat, son of Levi, son of Melchi, son of Jannai, son of Joseph,
son
of Mattathias, son of Amos, son of Nahum, son of Esli, son of Naggai,
son
of Maath, son of Mattathias, son of Semein, son of Josech, son of Joda,
son
of Joanan, son of Rhesa, son of Zerubbabel, son of Shealtiel, son of Neri,
son
of Melchi, son of Addi, son of Cosam, son of Elmadam, son of Er,
son
of Joshua, son of Eliezer, son of Jorim, son of Matthat, son of Levi,
son
of Simeon, son of Judah, son of Joseph, son of Jonam, son of Eliakim,
son
of Melea, son of Menna, son of Mattatha, son of Nathan, son of David,
son
of Jesse, son of Obed, son of Boaz, son of Sala, son of Nahshon,
son
of Amminadab, son of Admin, son of Arni, son of Hezron, son of Perez, son
of Judah,
son
of Jacob, son of Isaac, son of Abraham, son of Terah, son of Nahor,
son
of Serug, son of Reu, son of Peleg, son of Eber, son of Shelah,
son
of Cainan, son of Arphaxad, son of Shem, son of Noah, son of Lamech,
son
of Methuselah, son of Enoch, son of Jared, son of Mahalaleel, son of Cainan,
son of Enos, son of Seth, son of Adam, son of God.
I am reminded of an old story of a director on Broadway.
He was working at his desk one night. In front of him was a tall stack of
scripts, and he was looking for the one that would be his next successful show.
The hour was late, as he thumbed through one thick manuscript after another. In
his weariness, he accidentally picked up the Manhattan phone book. (Remember
phone books?) Flipping through a few pages, he paused to write a critique in
the margin: "Not much plot, but, what a cast of characters!"
It sounds like Luke is reading us the phone book. It’s
a long list of names, difficult names, strange names. The liturgist is glad we
didn’t assign him that reading. These are people we never met, who lived and
died a long time before we ever were born. They have no immediate connection to
any of us, except that this is the recital of Jesus’ heritage. It sounds to us
like a list of names, but it’s more than a list. It’s a family tree.
A couple days ago, I was cleaning out a bookcase at
home and came across an untitled manila folder. It was full of information about
my father. Mom gave it to me after his funeral and I had stashed it away. What
a wealth of information! There were news clippings about his accomplishments,
letters of commendation from his supervisors, and a handwritten resume.
Then there was worksheet for a security questionnaire
for the Defense Department. It listed his brothers and sisters with their
birthdates. It also listed his parents. I did not know that my grandfather’s middle
name was Milford, and did not remember he was born on Christmas Eve 1901. I
had forgotten he had married a woman who was a Thorngate. Her family came from
Wales. Now to you, those would merely be names. But not for
me. Don’t call it a list. It’s my heritage.
What is most curious is why Luke should include this
list. Joseph was the son of Heli, son of Matthat, son of Levi,
son of Melchi, son of Jannai, son of Joseph . . . Joseph was named
after somebody five generations before. They would have remembered the name.
My
younger daughter is Margaret Rose. She hates it when somebody calls her Megan
because that’s not her name. Her name is Margaret. My father’s mother was named
Margaret, Margaret Thorngate. She was pleased that we named one of her
great-grandchildren after her. I said, “Well, Grandma, actually we didn’t name
her after you,” and Grandma said, “Oh yes, you did!” She lived for four more
years after Meg was born. She held her in her arms only a few times, but the
generational blessing was given. It’s stated in Psalm 128, “May you see your
children’s children.” The human race continues; that is God’s blessing.
The
genealogy of Jesus pushes us to the past. It points to those from whom we have
come. If you go over to the first chapter of Matthew, he doesn’t restrict it to
men only. He includes some women, some curious women. Go poking around in
Jesus’ family history and who do you find? Rahab, the prostitute. Tamar, the
incest victim. They are on the list, which is more than a list. There is
Bathsheba, whom King David stole from her husband before ordering his death.
There is old grandmother Ruth, who was a Moabite woman. Jesus had Moabite blood
in his veins! Now, that’s interesting. It is Matthew’s way of saying the birth
of Jesus was an unusual birth.
As
you may have noticed, Luke doesn’t have that much imagination. He mentions only
men. Seventy-six men. A long line of men: Melchi
was the son of Addi, son of Cosam, son of Elmadam, son of Er, son
of Joshua.
That’s what it says: son of Joshua. Joshua and Jesus are the same name. Did you know
that? In Hebrew, it is Yeshua, which means “God saves.” According to Luke’s
story, Jesus was named before his birth by an angel. It turns out that 26
generations prior, the name was already a family name. Trust me when I tell you
the Jewish people have long memories.
I bet you thought the last thing we would be doing
today is reciting a list of names – except it’s so much more than a list. Don’t
call it a list.
Some years ago, I was preaching at the Massanetta
Springs Bible Conference, near Harrisonburg, Virginia. It’s an annual summer
pep rally for Presbyterians. Presbyterian pep rallies happen with a lot of
sermons and I was one of the preachers. The director of development at the
conference center was named a woman named Revlan. That was her name. She looked
like she could model in a makeup commercial.
Revlan was a Virginian from the Shenandoah Valley. One
day from our lunch table, I watched her work. An old duffer hobbled up with his
food tray, his pants hiked up to his lungs. She stood and helped him take his
seat. She sat down with a big smile. She offered her name, he spoke his, and
then she said, “Who are your people?” That was the magic question. It must be
the Shenandoah Valley Question: “Who are your people?”
This old guy sat up straight. He recited names, shared
connections, told stories. Revlan sat with a radiant smile and took it all in. This
is how she did fund raising, asking about relationships, discerning values. By
the time she was done, she could have filled in the amount on his check –
because she took him seriously. It began with a single question: who are your
people?
“Jesus,
who are your people?” He could tell you. Any Jew in the first century could
tell you. He could trace the generations back for hundreds of years. This was
the Palestinian way. This was the Jewish way. You could go to any town where a
member of your family lived. If you recited your generations, the people would
open their doors to you. This is how we can be certain that Jesus was not born
in some backyard cave. All Joseph had to do upon coming into Bethlehem was to
begin the recital of generations . . .
Simeon son of Judah, son of Joseph, son of
Jonam, son of Eliakim, son of Melea, son of Menna,
son of Mattatha, son of Nathan, son of David . . .
This
was more than a local thing, more than relationship of Bethlehem. Luke is very
clear that Jesus is a Jew. He structures the book that way, begins his gospel
in the Jerusalem temple with the priest of Zechariah, and concludes it in
chapter 24, with the Christian believers worshipping in the temple. Luke says Jesus
was circumcised on the eighth day, like every male Jewish child. Jesus was
taught Torah and discussed it with the teachers in the Temple. His family kept
Passover every year. They didn’t wink at the hold day; they journeyed by foot
to Jerusalem. They did this every year! Because Jesus is a Jew. These are his
people. . . for Luke goes on,
Hezron, son of Perez, son of Judah, son
of Jacob, son of Isaac, son of Abraham. . .
That
is the Jewish family tree. But the most curious thing of all is that Luke does
not stop there. For Matthew, the line goes back to Abraham, father of the
multitude, “exalted father” of the Jewish race.
Now,
that is some heritage. My friend Lynn was interested in visiting our church
some time, so I invited her to Christmas Eve. The church looked great, the
choir was tuned up, and I said, “Come and enjoy Christmas with us.” She said, “Well,
I’d like to, but we have a long-standing tradition to go to a family church
near Philadelphia. Everybody looks like me, and although nobody says it out loud,
I think you can only have communion if your ancestors were on the Mayflower.” We
had a good chuckle over that.
But
I had to wonder, whatever did they do before the Mayflower? If you talk to some
folks, some rare folks these days, their family’s significance and stature go
back only so far. But what happened before that?
So
when Luke speaks of Jesus, he takes it all the way back. I mean all the way
back . . . Shem, son of Noah, son of
Lamech, son of Methuselah, son of Enoch, son of Jared, son of Mahalaleel,
son of Cainan, son of Enos, son of Seth, son of Adam . .
. son of God.
Now, that’s something. At the baptism of Jesus, the
heavens open, the dove descends, and God says directly to Jesus, “You are my
son. You are my beloved child.” When the genealogy is recited, it goes all the
way back to Adam, the first child of God, the original Single Father. Jesus is
named “Son of God” at his baptism and traced back to the first “Son of God” in
the genealogy. That is to say Jesus is a member of the human family and he is also
mysteriously the source of the human family. He comes for everybody. Not just
for some, but for everybody, because from the very beginning God created
everybody. And what Jesus comes to proclaim is for everybody.
This is the preview of what is coming. Jesus speaks in
the small town synagogue as well as the national temple. He instructs the rich
and lifts up the poor. He eats at the affluent dinner party and feeds the
hungry with loaves and fishes. Never in the Gospel of Luke does Jesus ever
distinguish!
He calls the unclean tax collector to give up his
dirty job and welcomes the touch of the unclean leper. He raises from the dead the
son of a Jewish widow and welcomes the servant of a Roman centurion. He sits
with the judgmental Pharisee and attempts to enlarge the man’s heart, and he
welcomes the anointing tears of a woman with a questionable reputation. Men
support his ministry, and women respond to by supporting him out of their own
purses. Jesus will not divide or discriminate. He comes for everyone.
And where does the prophet preacher come
from? Luke says, It was supposed that he
was son of Joseph . . . who was son of Enos, son of Seth, son of Adam, son of
God. To put it simply, whether they know it yet or not, the whole human
race is connected to him. And he comes to you and to me and to everybody else
and says, “You belong to God.”
Just ask him, “Jesus, who are your people?”
He looks at us and says, “You are.”
(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.
[1] Kenneth Bailey, Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes
(Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2010), 28.
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