God’s grace and peace be with all of you.
This morning, I want you to do me a favor and pull out that pew Bible that’s in front of you, and I want you to find the beginning of the gospel of Matthew.
Now, our appointed reading for today is almost the very beginning of Matthew. What I read a moment ago is Matthew chapter 1, starting in verse 18. But I want you to take a look at what comes before that, what comes before “Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way.” What comes before Jesus’ birth?
The gospel of Matthew devotes its first half-chapter to the genealogy of Jesus. Matthew wants to show where Jesus came from, and you see that starting right in verse one: this is Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham. So Jesus’ identity is tied back to David, the great king, and to Abraham, the patriarch of the people of Israel.
We’re not going to read this entire genealogy, because it’s a whole bunch of names and you probably won’t recognize most of them. But I want you to scan over it for a moment, and I want you to notice what stands out. This is a list of a whole bunch of fathers: Abraham was the father of Isaac, who was the father of Jacob, and so on. But in this long list of fathers, there are also some mothers mentioned.
Obviously, we know that making a child (without the aid of modern science) requires two parents. So obviously, every father in this list must have a corresponding mother who actually birthed the next generation. But the Bible often leaves the women out of the story. The wives and daughters often go unnamed and unmentioned. Which means that when the women are named, we should sit up and pay attention, because there is a reason for it.
So in this genealogy (which covers 42 generations, by the way), there are four women specifically mentioned: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and “the wife of Uriah,” whose name should be a familiar one: Bathsheba.
Why are these women named? Why are these four lifted up, singled out when most of the mothers are ignored? They must be important, right? There must be some significance for Matthew, that he wants to highlight these women who are part of Jesus’ heritage?
Well, these four women certainly are important, but perhaps not for the reasons we would expect. Let’s take a closer look and you’ll see what I mean.
The first woman in the list appears in verse three: “Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar.” Judah was one of the 12 sons of Jacob, but Tamar was not his wife. Tamar was his daughter-in-law. You see, Tamar had married one of Judah’s sons, who then died. But Tamar was mistreated by her late husband’s family. Left without recourse, she undertook a bold plan: Tamar dressed herself up really nice and waited for Judah to pass by. Judah thought she was a prostitute and slept with her. Later, the pregnant Tamar reveals that Judah is the father of her child.
All of this might sound like it belongs on an episode of Jerry Springer or Maury, but at the end of the whole incident, Judah says, “She is more in the right than I.” The Bible does not condemn Tamar—in fact, it vindicates her. Tamar took initiative in the face of injustice, and she is deemed right for it.
A few lines further down, we see the next woman mentioned: Rahab. Rahab was a prostitute, a sex worker, in the city of Jericho. Because she helped the Israelites, she and her family are spared when Jericho is captured, and they live in the land of Israel among the Israelites from then on.
Rahab’s son, Boaz, is the father of Obed by Ruth. Now Ruth has a whole book of the Bible dedicated to her. She is a foreigner, a Moabite, and also a refugee. Her determination and loyalty (and perhaps a bit of Tamar trickery) gets her the attention of Boaz, who marries her. They turn out to be the great-grandparents of King David.
The fourth woman in the genealogy isn’t actually named. Matthew says, “David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah,” which sounds sketchy even if you don’t know the story. The woman in question is Bathsheba, who has been given a bad rap over the centuries. The truth is, Bathsheba wasn’t a seductress, she was a victim. Ask me after service if you want the whole rant. I’ll just give you the short version right now: David was king. Bathsheba didn’t have the power to say no. David raped her, impregnated her, and then murdered her husband to cover it up.
In this genealogy, there are four women: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba. A trickster, a sex worker, a refugee, and a rape survivor. Why name these women? Why highlight the foreigners—Rahab and Ruth? Why highlight the stories that might seem “improper” in one way or another? Why highlight the role and agency—sometimes subversive—of women in this grand narrative?
Well, just look at what happens starting in verse 18. Mary is pregnant and Joseph knows he’s not the father. According to Jewish law at the time, the accusation of adultery came with heavy penalties, up to and including death. Joseph could have accused Mary of adultery. But Matthew tells us Joseph was “a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace.” Joseph wanted to do the right thing—not just the thing that was permissible by law, but the fair and just thing.
And so Joseph resolves to dismiss Mary quietly. Her life would have been very difficult, as an unmarried woman with a child. She probably would have lived out the rest of her days in poverty, shunned by society. But she’d be alive.
Joseph sees two options: formally accuse Mary of adultery, or quietly dismiss her. Either way, Mary’s life will never be the same. Her reputation will never recover.
But God has very different plans for Joseph, for Mary, and for the baby in Mary’s womb. God sends an angel to speak to Joseph in a dream, and the angel lays out the situation: “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”
God is calling Joseph: calling Joseph to accept Mary, calling Joseph to embrace Mary, calling Joseph to respect and care for Mary. God is giving Joseph a possibility Joseph hadn’t even considered. There never were only the two options: publicly accuse Mary of adultery, or privately send her away. God has another path, another way forward from this socially awkward position Joseph finds himself in. Accept Mary. Take her into his household, into his family. Honor the commitments he had already made to her. Treat her with the love and respect all people deserve, regardless of whether they’re pregnant or who the father might be.
In sending that angel to Joseph, God was inviting Joseph to a far richer imagination of God’s kingdom. God was calling Joseph to be righteous, to be faithful, in a more meaningful way that Joseph had ever considered before.
Joseph’s imagination was limited. He saw only an unfaithful woman. God’s imagination is far more vast. God saw in Mary the mother of God’s own Son. The divine imagination always sees more than we human beings can see.
God saw in Tamar creativity and determination to see justice done. God saw courage in Rahab, and loyalty in Ruth. God saw Bathsheba’s impossible position, saw how she was used, and did not turn away from her.
God sees all of these women. The divine imagination can look at a trickster, a sex worker, a refugee, and a rape survivor, and see limitless possibilities. The divine imagination can take an unmarried young woman and bring about the salvation of the world through her.
The Christmas story in Matthew teaches us that God’s imagination is bigger. Bigger than Joseph’s, and bigger than ours.
God asked Joseph to imagine something more than he had ever considered before. God asked Joseph to expand his imagination, expand his sense of what was not only possible, but what was faithful and righteous. And Joseph steps into that new realm of possibility: he takes Mary as his wife, he names the child Jesus, he becomes the step-father to the Son of God.
God is calling you to join in God’s imagining. God is calling you to see what might be possible, when your faithfulness and God’s faithfulness join together. God is calling you to think bigger, imagine bigger, dream bigger.
If God can see the worth and possibility in women like Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba, then just think how much God sees in you.
If God can call Joseph into the sacred role of step-parent, and show him new depths of righteousness and love—then just imagine what God can show you. If God can take Mary, pregnant and unmarried, and through her bring into being Jesus Christ, the savior, the one who is called Emmanuel—then just imagine what God can do here among you. If God can save creation through the life and death of one man—then just imagine what God can do here among you. Imagine it. Amen.
Pastor Jennifer Preaching 