Reflections on Matthew 1-3, Day 5

No apologies are ever made for Jesus. Have you noticed that? Even before he officially entered his ministry, John paints a very harsh and vivid picture of him reaping a harvest of human souls, not all of whom will meet a happy “end”. I love that the usual instinct people have to gloss over hard sayings is completely ignored in the gospel accounts. Particularly in Matthew, there is no sugar-coating of “the God Man” and what he was about.

The church as a whole has gradually filed away the rough edges of Jesus until all we have left is a safe, flannel-graph saviour. What happened? The Jesus I’m being introduced to in these first three chapters appears to be anything but safe! And he didn’t come just to save us–he came to call us to a new way of living. He practiced that new life himself so that we would have an example to follow. But in all the religiousity, we’ve lost this radical man and his call to us to be radical people.

John knew what was going on from the very beginning. His ministry of baptism was not just to save people either–he also was calling people to new life. He even told the religious “somebodies” not to just join in the new fad. He wanted them to be serious about the baptism into a new life. He told them to “bear fruit in keeping with repentance”.

This phrase has stuck with me throughout this week. Bear fruit in keeping with repentance. Think about it. Say it out loud. Really. This is important. About as important as it gets. I mean, that’s what Jesus was all about, right? If we truly repented/were baptized/turned to him, then our lives would be different. We would have something totally different (and better) to show for it.

Stop making this Jesus story warm and fuzzy. It’s not. It’s a harsh reality that our lives are not going to be the same. And if they are, then we haven’t really listened to him. That’s dangerous. Really dangerous. Open your ears. Listen. There will be no apologies. Jesus is not that kind of guy. He demands righteousness. Anything less is sin. Bear fruit in keeping with repentance.

And, trust me, there is joy in righteousness. The kind of joy that could never be described in this silly, little blog.
   Pursue him.
   Pursue righteous.
   And joy will pursue you.

Reflections of Matthew 1-3, Day 1

So, I’ll be honest–I wasn’t really expecting much in this first week. I mean, I’ve read this stuff a million times, and it’s not like chapters 1-3 are even relatively new material for me. It’s a well-read intro to the “Jesus story”. Funny how God likes to shake me up a bit here and there…

I guess what stood out to me was the drama involved in the pre-story. And by drama, I don’t mean silly, teenage-girl drama. I mean real, intense action.

Example 1: The genealogy. Doesn’t sound exciting? Think about the beginning of the Star Wars Trilogy. Remember the scrolling script? Didn’t it leave you anxious and eager to see what happens? It built up the suspense and immediately hooked you. It hinted at greatness to come. This is exactly what the genealogy in Matthew does; it allows us to see the great (and not-so-great men/women that preceeded Jesus). It reveals a rich history that the “audience” (Jews) knew all about. Who was the man that came from such a famous/infamous family? (Side Note: For those of you who aren’t literary geeks like myself, there is a difference between famous and infamous.)

Example 2: (Minor, but still intriguing, information.) Joseph doesn’t “consummate” the marriage until after Jesus is born. I believe that would qualify as miraculous restraint.

Example 3: The young Jesus (probably a toddler?) is sought out, worshipped, and given kingly gifts. The magi, “a caste of wise men specializing in astronomy, astrology, and natural science”, seem very aware of Jesus’ greatness. Maybe it’s just me, but I kind of doubt Jesus was doing anything too terribly miraculous yet. I mean, learning to walk and talk is great, but it’s nothing to be worshipped for. I’m not exactly sure how the magi knew that he was worthy of their worship, but they did. That, to me, is amazing. (Side question: Were these wise men mystical, believing in any hokey prophecy that they heard? I don’t mean to take away from the worship they gave to Jesus, but you have to wonder if they were… well, reliable.)

Example 4: Herod kills all the male infants in and around Bethlehem. Wow. I mean, if I were God incarnate, that’s how I’d want people to remember my birth: innocent babies being wiped out because the king was trying to kill me. I know this certainly reveals what a threat Jesus was to “the establishment”, but what a dark beginning! Already, people are dying because of the “hugeness” of his coming.

Example 5: John tells the people that the one who comes after him (Jesus) will separate the wheat (=righteous people) from the chaf (=unrighteous people), and the chaf will be thrown into an “unquenchable fire”. Well, isn’t that a warm and fuzzy message! How would you like to be introduced that way? “Well, he’s an awesome guy–totally holy, powerful, and from the Lord, but watch out! If you’re not ‘good’ he’ll send you to hell!”

Example 6: When Jesus first turns up, he allows John (the one who “is not fit to tie his sandals”) to baptize him. Guess what happens! The Holy Spirit immediatly shows up, and God audibly affirms Jesus in the presence of John. How cool is that?! His first public appearance, and he gets the “God stamp of approval”.

Now, try and tell me this isn’t a dramatic intro!

Parables

Sometimes I feel like Jesus’ disciples did. I read his stories and scratch my head, thinking, “Huh?” Take Luke 13, for example. Jesus tells three parables in this chapter–one about a fig tree, one about a mustard seed, and one about yeast. In none of these stories does he explain what he means. And as much as I may pride myself in being a Bible major, there are still very simple things I do not understand. I can pull out commentaries and concordances, but when I just read the gospel accounts by themselves, I feel as if I know nothing.

That is kind of terrifying for me to admit, but maybe that’s just a part of humility and mystery. God knows that I can get cocky about my “Bible knowledge”, but here he shows up, leaving me baffled with simple stories. And what about the mystery? In my search to dissect and understand the Bible, I’ve done away with all the mystery. God was never supposed to be someone I could fully understand.

Why am I so afraid of this–of not knowing everything?