As we begin the last week of Advent and the countdown to
Christmas, in this post (originally from December 24, 2013), let's
reflect on the significance of Christ choosing to count both the best
and the worst of humanity among his ancestors. Today's Gospel reading,
Matthew's account of the genealogy of Our Lord (Mt 1:1-17) is packed with more than meets the eye
"For Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we
proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to
Gentiles, but those who are called, Jews and Greeks alike, Christ the
power of God and the wisdom of God." (1 Corinthians: 22-24)
I
once heard it said that, if you really want to know someone, you've got
to know where they came from and where they're headed. The only thing
that could probably be added to that is the
present. Along with the past and future, you've got to know someone's
here and
now, to meet them in their present life circumstances. To really enter into relationship, in particular the type of
caritas or
agape relationship
that God calls us to, and that we are called to seek out in each other,
there has to be a genuine interest in the heart, in seeking out what
influences push and pull it, and a willingness to enter into the broken
and ugly pieces that we all carry around with us.
This
is one way I've been led to approach the the question, "Who is Christ?
Who is this man that we claim worship as God?" We could spend an
eternity exploring and reflecting on the person of the
God-man, of mystery of
Emmanuel (God with us) and,
by his grace, one day we will...for eternity. After all, isn't that
what heaven is about? Isn't it about being immersed in the power of
divine relationship, of perfect love incarnate, and of the unlimited
truth, goodness, and beauty that we only catch fleeting and limited
glimpses of during our walk in this
valley of tears? Isn't it living with full consciouness and perfect knowledge of the
One who
not only created us, but who loved us with such self-abandon that he
lowered himself to give up his life, choosing mercy beyond justice so as
not to leave us in the squalor and suffering of our sin?
If not I'm not sure that I would want any other idea of heaven, or any other God, at least for eternity.
As for there here and now, I'll narrow it to the question of the
Who of The Five W's: the person of Christ as
One who
came to enter into relationship with us and literally save us from
ourselves, in the past, present, and future. He took on a human
identity
without giving up his divinity so that we might know
that, despite our frail humanity, we are no longer bound by the pain of
our past, by our present circumstances, or by the future that we so
often look into with both hope and fear because we are so powerless to
control it. By entering into our humanity, he literally bent time,
condescending (lowering
himself) to at once dwell with us as the fulfillment of the hope of our
ancestors in faith, as leader and our constant companion on our life's
journey, and to raise us to the intended dignity and show us the
glorious destiny he has won for us and destined us for by his passion,
death, and resurrection.
Past
In the December 16th reflection of
Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas, entitled
Genealogy and Grace, Gail
Godwin offers a reflection on Matthew's purpose in beginning his Gospel
by recounting the genealogy of Christ (Matthew 1:1-17), and
particularly his inclusion of people who were "...not necessarily the
noblest or most deserving person[s] to carry out divine purposes."
For
reasons unknown to us, God may select the Judahs who sell their
brothers into slavery, the Jacobs who cheat their way to first place,
the Davids who steal wives and murder rivals - but also compose profound
and beautiful psalms of praise.
And
what about the five women Matthew choses to include? Not a mention of
Sarah or Rebekah or Rachel, the upstanding patriarchal wives of Israel.
Instead Tamar, a Cananite, who disguised herself as a prostitute and
seduced her father-in-law Judah to get a son out of him. And Rahab,
another Cananite and a real prostitute this time. And Ruth the Moabite,
another outsider. And Bathsheba, mother of Solomon, is named only as
the wife of Uriah, whom King David had killed so he could marry her
himself. Every one of these women used as God's instrument had scandal
or aspersion attached to her-as does the fifth and final woman named in
the genealogy: Mary, the mother of Jesus, with her unconventional
pregnancy.
Matthew's intent in highlighting these women is to make the point that Christ,
who as God was able to plan and choose his own lineage, did
so in a way that made a bold and profound statement: that he desired to
come to us not with the appearance and glory of God (as he is and will
return), but in the humility of a 100% human being with very much
imperfect ancestors. In doing so, took on our sin not by sinning
himself, but by assuming the sins of the past and all time onto himself.
At the same time, in choosing to singularly exempt Mary from this stain
of sin, he reversed our trajectory from darkness and sin to light and
redemption and prepared for himself a perfect flesh-and-blood tabernacle
from which to enter into the world.
Christ chose to enter the
nastiness, pain, and fear, and death of a fallen humanity rather than
abandon us to the fate we deserved. He chose love and mercy beyond
justice. Only God could plan that kind of entrance.
And that is where we are arrive at Christmas. Light has pierced the darkness.
God with us has
come into the world, to take the burden of our fallen and broken state
onto himself, beginning with the past, because only he as God is strong
enough and wise enough to rid us of it once and for all.
+AMDG+
