Advent II, St. Paul’s L’Amoreaux, December 9, 2007
The word ‘brood’ has an overtone in English that I don't think exists in the Greek word which 'brood' is used to translate.
In our lesson today about the people coming to be baptized by John, it says that one group received a tongue-lashing instead.
“Seeing the Pharisees and Sadducees, John said: ‘you brood of vipers.”
There’s no question about the second word ‘viper’. It means a snake that spits poison.
But on its own, brood simply means descendants. We are all brood. We have all descended from parents and grandparents. And in this Gospel, it is a word on which a spot-light shines.
The opening verse of Matthew reads, ‘An account of the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham.’ The words for ‘genealogy’ and ‘brood’ come from the same root. And the sixteen verses which follow are the remarkable list of Jesus’ ancestors.
‘Boaz by his mother Rahab.’ Do you remember Rahab? To put it politely, she was a woman of ill-repute. But at the risk of her own life, she protected Joshua and his spies who led the children of Israel into the promised land.
At first, not a likely candidate, but a woman of ill-repute is on the list of Jesus’ ancestors.
It lists ‘Obed by his mother Ruth.’
You know Ruth. A foreigner. Widowed and alone with a mother-in-law who is also widowed. But when the older widow tries to protect the younger one from the grief she had already experienced by leaving home for a foreign land, Ruth replied, ‘Where you go, I will go. Where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people. Your God shall be my God.’
A devoted and dedicated foreigner is on the list of Jesus’ ancestors.
‘Solomon by his mother, the wife of Uriah.’
Now this is interesting. Solomon’s father is David. His mother is Bathsheba but her name is left out. Why? So that the name of her first and murdered husband can be included. Uriah, another foreigner, but the loyal and dedicated captain of an Israelite army who is callously sent to his death by King David who has committed adultery with Bathsheba. Unjustly killed by the King, forgotten by all and left to the ash heap, so it would seem. But the Bible says, he was not forgotten by the Lord. The Bible says, the murder of an innocent and loyal man did not go unanswered, and even the greatest king of Israel must give an account of himself before the Lord.
Uriah is on the list of Jesus’ ancestors.
And finally, the list includes ‘Josiah the father of Jechoniah at the time of the deportation to Babylon.’
This is a bit more complex to follow. But it takes us back to the great promise God made with Abraham, to whom He promised descendants and a family line that would last forever. To whom He promised a people who God would raise up in order to show his love to all the world. A promise, years later, God would extend through the kings of Israel and the throne of David (2 Sa 7:16).
It is a promise that God will keep through even the greatest of obstacles: physical frailty, human wickedness, national degradation, and then horrific division and conquest.
But at the moment when all seems lost, as history’s iron fist slams down hardest upon the people, at a time 600 years before Christ when the nation is conquered and brought to its knees, a little note is added at the end of the book of kings - the life of Jechoniah was spared and he was taken into Babylon.
Just a little note, but its meaning is this - God is keeping his promise! The line of descendants will continue. And in the list of ancestors which Jesus Christ the Messiah completes and fulfills, the name of Jechoniah appears as a testimony to God’s faithfulness when history offers no hope.
It is a magnificent portrait.
God lifts up the simple, sinful and humble in order to demonstrate his love.
God watches over those unjustly treated and vindicates them before the princes and kings of the earth.
God keeps his promises.
And through Jesus Christ the Messiah, son of David and Abraham, God will redeem the world.
And by starting there, with that great line of ancestors from whom the Messiah descends, we can feel the awful force of John the Baptist’s fierce words against the leaders of his time.
You who are meant to be a great light in the world have become a miserly flicker in a corner.
You who are meant to be a blessing to the nations have turned away from all but your own and left the widows and the weak to fend for themselves.
You who are children of the covenant with Abraham have become a brood of vipers!
And here’s what I understand to be the challenge of this passage for us. If we will let him, God will make us, as we are intended to be, His own.
We may see ourselves weak and frail, but God will raise us up and make us his own.
We may see ourselves on the wrong side of history, but God has His own plans for the world and will join us to them.
We may think of ourselves as weak and useless in a foreign land, but God invites us to work for that distant country, better for all.
Out of love unimaginable, Jesus Christ picks up the sinners and gives them love that will not fail, friendship that will not betray, hope that will not fade. Out of love for the world, the Baptist challenges us to straighten our lives and join God’s great and loving mission for the world.
And it is where, I think, we begin. To contemplate the marvel, wonder and beauty of what God intends. For when we see something truly beautiful, and when the hope it inspires shines within us, it will take us a very long ways.
Kathy Barnes told me a great story. Years ago one of her students was a royal terror. Hope for him among any who knew him was slim. Until one weekend, the class took a trip to a country camp. On that afternoon, her little terror came up to her and anxiously and urgently said, “Mrs. Barnes, come with me, quickly.”
Mrs. Barnes immediately thought, “Oh, oh. What classmate lies injured on the ground? What barn now burns in towering flames? What phlanx of police now encircles us outside?”
But out the door she went, following her little scholar forward to a point where he instructed, “Get down on your hands and knees. Don’t say anything, and follow me.”
So, even more uncertain than before, Mrs. Barnes got down on her hands and knees, not knowing why or to where she was crawling, and followed her little friend through the bushes. Until, at the edge of a clearing, they looked up and through to where stood a beautiful herd of wild deer. Sleek, magnificent animals. A breathtaking sight, the little city boy had never seen or experienced in all his life. And for twenty minutes, on their tummies, he and his teacher watched in silent wonder and regard.
Kathy said, “From that moment on, I had his number. I knew that there was more to him than terror and disorder.”
And so, it turns out, did he.
Years later, he found out where she was and came back to see her. It had not been an easy life. He had been in and out of trouble with the law. But he wanted to tell her that he had started straightening things out.
“I haven’t always done the right thing,” he said, “but I realize that what you were telling me was right, and the advice you gave me was good.”
“I’ve done better. I’ve finished high school. And I’m going to do something with my life.”
Kathy discovered later that his mother and siblings were mistakenly and brutally attacked at their home by a deranged neighbour. But when her little scholar heard the news, now a young and independent man, he returned immediately, gathered up the whole lot of them, and moved them into his own home where he knew they would be safe.
To whom do you wish to belong? On whose ancestral list would you like your name to appear? A miserly, poisonous one? Or the lineage of our Saviour and Lord? A motley list, to some eyes: rich and poor, strong and weak, charming and stubborn. But redeemed and being redeemed and being pushed forward to become more and more a light in a dark world.
As St. Paul exhorted the Ephesians:
I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power. (Eph 1:17-19)
This Advent season, gaze on the beauty of what God intends. Consider the beauty of our life, the shards of glory in the world, and the mercy which surrounds us. Contemplate the Saviour who has come to redeem and restore it all. Straighten your life so that you can serve him wholeheartedly. And prepare yourself for the coming of the Lord.