Baptism of the Lord
January 9, 2022
Jesus 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 take delight in watching your faces when I read a text like that. I don’t do it very often. You couldn’t bear it, and neither could I. There are many genealogies in the Bible. We skip over them. And if one is appointed to be read, a smart liturgist will shake his head and say, “Glad I didn’t have to read all those names.”
The gospel of Luke drops his genealogy of Jesus right here in chapter 3. Seventy-seven names, a few familiar, most not. Were these all the generations before Jesus? We don’t know. Yet before dismissing the list, take note that the ancient people placed a high premium on reciting their heritage. That sounds curious to people like us, who probably don’t know the names of our great-great-grandmothers.
Sometimes there are lessons to be learned. Like in the Gospel of Matthew. Matthew begins his book with another genealogy for Jesus. Not exactly a page-turner (or maybe it is). And then we realize Matthew breaks an ancient Jewish rule: he gives us the name of women! And not only women, but unusual women who had scandalous births. It’s a setup for him to say, “And let me tell you about the birth of Jesus to Mary…”
Luke offers no scandals, mentions nothing unusual. He traces the generations of Joseph as far back as he can. It’s a remarkable feat. We can assume he got this information from an “orderly account” (Luke 1:1). And it’s an amazing list of names.
Yet let me ask the obvious: why should we even care? Why bother with genealogy?
Well, you tell me. Sometimes the topic comes up in my home: do I want to take one of those genetic tests to discover more about my past? Maybe there are details I’d rather not know. Yet there is a natural curiosity for many of us. Where do I come from? Who are my people? And so we might trace the roots.
During my wanderings this summer, I stopped by the square in downtown Boalsburg. I don’t know if you’ve ever been there. It’s a few miles east of State College. My maternal grandmother was a Boal. She told me about David Boal, an immigrant from Ireland who served as a captain in the Revolutionary War. In 1789, the brand-new United States gave him a gift of land in central Pennsylvania to honor him for his military service. He settled there and started a tavern.
He had a son, also named David, who got in trouble back in Ireland. In 1798, the Irish government put a price on his head for taking part in a rebellion. His friends hid him inside a wooden chest and smuggled him on board a ship headed for the United States. If you visit the family home in Boalsburg, the chest is still there. Now, that’s some kind of story!
And it goes on. After David came George, who was a farmer. In 1852, George was one of the founders of the Farmers High School. Have you ever heard of it? It’s now called Penn State University. Perhaps I should have asked if there is a family discount. After all, we had a stowaway in a trunk; our family’s been looking for bargains ever since.
There’s a lot to learn through history. Something happened before I was born. In this instantaneous, disposable age, imagine that! History might explain how I am who I am, or why I do what I do. The grandfather of someone I know was also an immigrant from Britain. When he landed in the State in the 1920’s, the only room he could afford was located in a brothel. He was Puritanical enough to insist he never visited any other rooms. But he had a lifelong obsession with washing his hands. Didn’t want to catch anything.
History fills in our story, so Luke recites the family history of Jesus. He wants all the pieces to fit.
Yet in the very first line, there is a hiccup. Did you notice that? Let me read it again: “Jesus was the son (as was thought) of Joseph son of Heli (3:23).” That is, everybody assumed he was the son of Joseph. Now, we have inside information from the Christmas story. We know about the angel, the mysterious pregnancy, and all of that. Yet that’s not the kind of story that you tell the neighbors, especially in a first-century culture where shame and scandal were a big deal.
In no small part, Luke recites this genealogy to provide legitimacy for Jesus. To say this “presumed” son of Joseph is part of Joseph’s family. Like I said, this is a bit of a hiccup. And it’s a reminder that a good many of our families have … unusual … connections. We don’t talk about them very much.
My dad was the fifth of nine children. Shortly after he died six years ago, we discovered he had another brother. This was a brother that he never knew about. The short version of the story was that Grandpa didn’t always stay home. Fill in the blanks. There was a child. Nobody knew, until long after Grandpa’s death, Grandma blurted out the whole story to one of my aunts and then swore her to secrecy. I mean, this is an embarrassing story.
The tale stayed quiet until a retired state police officer in Buffalo, New York, decided to find out more about his ancestry. He did one of the saliva tests, got the results, and started calling all the Carters that he could find on the internet. One of them was my aunt, who knew the story.
One thing led to another. Apart from all the turmoil over what Grandpa had kept from everybody, some of the relatives wanted to meet him. Others weren’t so sure. And to bring it all to a focus, there was a family reunion scheduled on the calendar. Should Uncle Terry get an invitation? He did. He went. He’s kept going every year.
I reached out, and we decided to meet for lunch at an Applebee’s. He wanted to know about my dad, the brother he would never know. And I asked him to say something of his own story. “My story?” he said. Then he laughed gently and said, “Sometimes I feel like I’m in a novel and the first four chapters are missing.” He paused; and then he added, “Now the pages are starting to get filled in.”
Then I told him then what I’ve said to the relatives who were curious why I set up the lunch: everybody needs a family. Ever if you don’t know if you have a family, everybody needs a family.
Who was the family of Jesus? Luke fills in some of the names. Seventy-seven names. Some of them we know: David is on the list, Jacob, Isaac, and Abraham are on the list; Noah is on the list (you knew he had to be there). There are a lot of them we don’t know; you can ask our liturgist to recite those names later. The list goes all the way back to Adam. This is the family where Jesus belongs.
It's most important that the Bible doesn’t make a big deal about whether his father was Joseph. We don’t know if Joseph ever had second thoughts about agreeing with what an angel told him. What we do know is that he took Jesus as his own. And that’s as important as any biological information.
Do you know the primary characteristic of a real family? They take you in. Sometimes it happens in adoption. Sometimes it just happens. There are people who claim you, people who say, “You belong with us.” Any honest person will look at a family tree and see broken branches. They also know that no tree ever grows perfectly straight. But they will know if belonging happens, if love is shared, if lessons are taught, if history is imparted, they have a family.
How curious – how remarkable – that Luke gives us the genealogy of Jesus when telling us about his baptism! Luke already told us Jesus was circumcised; he was part of the Jewish family. Now, in anticipation of the Messiah’s arrival, Jesus is baptized. The sky rips open. A dove descends. And a Voice from heaven says, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you, I am well pleased.” And we can read into that all we are able.
At one level, it’s the same Message that God speaks when we are baptized. Just as Joseph took Jesus as his own, so God claims us in our baptisms. Baptism is the moment of our adoption into the household of God. This is the claim that precedes every other claim on our lives. It is the event where we heard the ancient words of the prophet Isaiah as words spoken to us:
Thus says the Lord: I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
When you walk through fire you shall not be burned.
For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. (Isaiah 43:1-3)
“Jesus, as supposed, was the son of Joseph, the son of Heli, the son of Matthat, the son of Levi …the son of David…the son of Jacob, Isaac, and Abraham… the son of Noah …the son of Methuselah… the son of Adam, the son of God.”
That’s a nice touch. If you reach all the way back, Jesus comes from Adam. And where does Adam come from? From the creative grace of God. Adam’s life was a gift, just as your life is a gift. Every birth is an act of holy creativity. That’s why strong, husky men are reduced to tears when a new baby is placed in their arms.
And this specific Child – Jesus of Nazareth, presumed son of Joseph – Luke is telling us Jesus is a Jew, but more than a Jew. He comes for everybody. He is a New Beginning for everybody. The apostle Paul will echo this when he writes, “Sin and death came into the world through Adam, but the righteousness of Jesus leads to justification and life for all.” (Romans 5:18).
And if that’s not enough, the Swiss theologian Karl Barth pushes it further. He calls Jesus “the New Adam” who comes from Adam. Then he adds, “For Christ who seems to come second, really comes first, and Adam who seems to come first really comes second.” Now, that will blow your circuits on a snowy day!
For us, the question is really this: how far back can you go? We go back to Christ, and through Christ to Abraham, and beyond Abraham to Adam. We go all the way back to God. That’s where we come from. Every one of us.
And thanks to Christ, we are adopted into a venerable heritage, bequeathed with undeserved blessings, and surrounded by a family far greater than the one into which we were born. That’s a lot to ponder, and it’s enough for today.
(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.
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