Why the Begats Matter

People’s lives are at stake.

if we want to stand for justice in our world.

Atatiana Jefferson was murdered by a police officer this week. She is the most recent victim of murders of innocents. I lament her death, but lament is not enough to stop the madness. I have a responsibility to see her as my kin. The Gospel demands of us this radical reconstrual of our identities, attitudes, and behaviors.

The Christian New Testament’s Gospel of Matthew begins with “begats.” Genealogy matters in the recorded story of Jesus.

Genealogy in the New Testament is also a bit peculiar as genealogies go. The Gospel of Luke’s begats are different than Matthew’s. Why is that? Did the two writers have two different family Bibles (and thus two different versions of Jesus’s ancestry)?

Scholars disagree on why Luke’s and Matthew’s genealogies differ, and this essay is not the place to muddle through the scholarly debates. What is clear is that genealogies held value for both of these ancient writers.

Genealogies say something about who we are by saying something about who our ancestors are. They also set boundaries between insiders and outsiders. Who has the right bloodline to inherit this or that name or property or authority? Who begat whom with whom and from whom? Genealogies set parameters for personal, social, and political life stories.

What do Jesus’ genealogies tell us about his identity?

Most genealogies in patriarchal societies focused on male ancestors. That is what makes Jesus’ genealogy in the Gospel of Matthew so striking. Note some of the names recorded by the writer of Matthew as part of Jesus’ family tree:

Tamar (Genesis 38)
Rahab (Joshua 2)
Ruth (The Book of Ruth)
Bathsheba (2 Samuel 11)
Mary (the mother of Jesus)

Women are included in Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus, even some Canaanite and Joabite women. So-called “outsiders.” Women who were deemed scandalous. The genealogy even includes an unnamed woman, “the wife of Uriah the Hittite.” We know her as Bathsheba.

Surfacing “subjugated knowledge”

Matthew’s genealogy brings to mind for me the work of French philosopher and historian Michel Foucault. Foucault constructed “genealogies” of contemporary practices and institutions. His aim was to show how present power dynamics emerged out of struggles, conflicts, alliances and power plays that are too often buried or forgotten.

Foucault sought to surface “subjugated knowledge” that is routinely muted or disqualified by dominant or more powerful voices.

Matthew’s Gospel disrupts the usual bloodlines and histories to include the stories of outsiders in Jesus’ genealogy. If Jesus was born to remake the world and transform the human story, then he needs a subversive and radical genealogy that includes those routinely discounted. Matthew gives us that.

Who do we name in our genealogies?

Why does this subversive begatting matter? The reason, for me, takes the shape of a question:

Who do I name in my genealogy? I have my family tree, of course, the one that Grandma recorded on those pages in the center of the Crainshaw Bible. I have a responsibility to be aware of my family’s history. Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus urges me to take this a step further. Matthew’s genealogy urges me to pay attention to whose names are not recorded on those glossy family tree pages.

The presence of the women in Jesus’ genealogy signals that Jesus’ life-story will inaugurate a new and unexpected identity for the people of God, one where subjugated knowledges, bodies, and stories are respected and embraced as kindred.

A call to radical kinship

Too many people in our communities today face violence, danger, and even death because of their race, ethnicity, sexuality, gender, economic reality–in other words, because they reside in realms of “subjugated knowledges.”

The time has come for those of us who claim kinship with Jesus to reimagine our genealogies. Who are the Tamars, Rahabs, Ruths, Bathshebas, and Marys in our communities? In our life stories? Where can we encounter those whose wisdom and voices have been subjugated or denounced or destroyed by the powers that be.

Whoever our Tamars, Rahabs, Ruths, Bathshebas and Marys are, we need to name them, lament the pain they have experienced, confess our participation in the injustices they have endured, and do whatever we can to celebrate our kinship with them in the beloved community of God.

And our responsibility does not end with lament, confession, and celebration. People’s lives are at stake.

Jesus calls us to stand with those relegated to and endangered on the margins, even if we risk our own security and privilege by doing so.

The begats matter in the genealogy of Jesus. They matter for us too as we work to extend radical hospitality and inclusivity to others. And they matter if our lament over Atatiana Jefferson’s death is to move us to everyday actions that, because we are her kin in God’s beloved community, resist injustice in all of its forms.

Affirm, Highlight, Respond

Blogtober is challenging me and encouraging me to grow in three ways.

I accepted the Blogtober challenge. On Tuesday, October 1, I began. That was fourteen days ago. A decalogue plus four days of blogs.

Why do people do it—write blogs each day about what they see, hear, think, and do? I realize, after all, that my life isn’t that exciting or interesting to anyone but me, even when I share cute dog stories! Neither are my opinions that intriguing. So why blog? And why decide to do it every day for a 31-day month?

Blogtober is challenging me and encouraging me to grow in three significant ways.

I am writing every day.

I love to write. At least, that is what I tell people: “I am a happier person when I write. More at peace. More centered.” This seems to be true for me.

And then I don’t write for days. Even weeks. My calendar fills up. I get involved in other projects. Writing gets pushed to the sidelines. I am less happy. Less at peace. Less centered.

Blogtober has given me a goal. Can I find 31 topics I want to write about? Do I have enough desire and self-discipline to write every day for 31 days? Or is stubborn perseverance the most vital ingredient for meeting this challenge? Will I keep writing even on the days when no one reads or “likes” or “hearts” my post?

These questions still await answers.

For now? Writers write. And so far this month? I am a writer!

I am connecting with other bloggers every day.

Bloggers can be a supportive bunch. We read each other’s posts. We learn from each other’s writing styles and tips.

I am reading other blogs as I post my own, and I am fascinated and often awed by the insights shared with skill and beauty by storytellers, essayists, poets and others who blog. Tens of thousands of people are sharing their voices in the blogosphere. I enjoy hearing those voices.

One result? I am realizing anew that human lives, including my own, are extraordinary even in their ordinariness. Ordinary human lives have a certain sacramental quality about them. At least, that is what this liturgical theologian believes. Significant life meaning dwells in mundane human living. I want to do a better job of noticing and celebrating those meanings.

I am embodying a healthy life rhythm: affirming, highlighting, responding.

“Medium” is a digital community where people write articles about topics ranging from technology to health to religion and more. In 2016, 140,000 stories were written and published every week on Medium.

The platform is set up so that readers give virtual “claps” for articles that capture their imaginations or stir their emotions. Readers can also highlight favorite phrases or sentences in articles and share related responses with the writers.

I joined Medium as part of the Blogtober challenge. I wanted to try out a new publishing venue. I have appreciated writing on a platform where I can give and receive respectful feedback and affirmation.

The practice Medium encourages is not a bad one for life in general. Criticism and critique abound in our world. Respectful dialogue can be rare. Perhaps a healthy dialogue rhythm, even with people whose perspectives differ from our own, is the rhythm I am learning through Medium: affirm, highlight, respond.

I invite all of us to consider embodying a version of this blogging rhythm: affirm, highlight, respond. Perhaps doing this–and even writing about it:)–will encourage healthier and more life-sustaining conversations in our lives and communities. Concrete affirmations are a rare gift, and we have opportunities everyday to congratulation people on the specific ways their lives are touching us and the world around us.

One healthy result of this rhythm is that it nudges me to affirm what I like about another person’s article, be specific about what struck me by highlighting particular parts of the article, and then share something from my own perspective by responding. This practice slows down the response time (something that can be lightning fast on social media sites) so that I am more thoughtful and intentional in my response.

Today is October 14. Seventeen more days until Halloween. Seventeen more blog posts. Seventeen more ideas and insights to explore. And on October 31, after posting the last of my Blogtober articles, I think I will give myself a virtual standing ovation and then head out in search of the Great Pumpkin–or at least a taste of chocolate Halloween treats!