Two New Testament letters in particular that, of course, precede both Matthew and Luke, must be read in light of both nativity stories – for they are the only two references to genealogia, as a word, as a concept. First, in a letter to his most important co-worker, Paul (or for those who consider it deutero-Pauline, by someone in the community) advises everyone reading the letter to “neither give heed to fables and endless genealogies” (1 Tim. 1:4). The writer of the letter dissuades the reader from consulting genealogies, as if they themselves were “fables” no longer believable; worse, they are detrimental to a thought now looking forward to a future to be determined by Jesus’ enduring presence. Even more remarkable, another letter advises to “avoid foolish questions, and genealogies,” (Titus 3:9) a statement of incomparable importance since it introduces, for the first time, the lexicon of “regeneration.” In other words, in the very document equating the sacrament of baptism with “regeneration” (the palingenesis of Titus 3:5) – a regeneration John will understand in relation to Jesus making possible a ←44 | 45→new birth through the sacrament of baptism– we also have a repudiation of the genealogies that insist on portraying Jesus as tied to a line of succession.
The idea of regeneration is antithetical to genealogies.
The regeneration made possible by baptism is precisely the ability of being free from the past, from what has already occurred, in forgiveness, in forgetting; unless regeneration, another genesis, is conceived as the opening of a new future and the ability to relinquish the past, then its efficacy is limited. Regeneration and genealogies are incommensurable; the regeneration inherent in baptism makes it possible to become a renewed and different human being – no longer burdened with all the accumulated experiences of the past and their painful repercussions much less the continuing burdens of the sins of prior generations. Baptism nullifies the past – completely, not simply the past of one’s individuality, but a freedom from the way the past continues to influence the present and anticipate (and thereby limit) the future. The genealogies in both Luke and Matthew become superfluous; there are more serious, more urgent events around the virgin birth whose meanings will be necessary for the time to come for all of Jesus’ followers.
In the gospel of Matthew, the virgin birth initiates a series of inter-related events that, together and comprehensively, provide extended meanings for Jesus’ life, with one inadvertent consequence of his coming into the world that will remind him of another beginning, a moment to perpetually remember, a trauma persistent in its effects, long lasting in consequence, and present for Jesus until his crucifixion prior to the beginning of Passover. If Mark and John open their biographies with “in the beginning,” Matthew in part emulates them by presenting “an account of the genealogy” (biblos geneseos) of Jesus, (1:1), making him “the son of David” and then “the son of Abraham” (noticeably, inverting the chronology and genealogy) and extending his lineage to Joseph. Matthew opens with an extensive and, for him, precise genealogy: he relates Jesus to foundational traditions – patriarchal and monarchical, though Joseph does not have the definition of father. Barclay writes that Matthew’s “dominating idea is that of Jesus as king. He writes to demonstrate the royalty of Jesus.”93 Harrington adds: “the function of Matthew’s genealogy is to trace Jesus’ descent back to David and Abraham.”94 While Matthew does present Jesus’ genealogy and its relationship ←45 | 46→to the Davidic line, one event after his birth will make any relationship to being a monarchical succession difficult to maintain. Not once in the entirety of the gospels does Jesus ever refer to himself as a king – from the beginning of his ministry to the moment when Pilate asks, as an accusation, if he claims to be the King of the Jews. That Jesus does not answer (only affirms what Pilate called him, “you say so”) testifies to the belief he has of himself. Jesus disassociates himself from any genealogical succession, and most of all the inheritance of kings. Jesus can in no way be considered monarchical, royal, or dynastic.
The announcement of the birth of Jesus from a woman who has had no sexual relations is only the first of the many remarkable events that will require the appearance of an angel in a dream, allusions to prophetic fulfillments, the arrival of “wise men” (magoi) from the East, a frantic escape from Bethlehem to avoid Herod’s murderous intent, and an extended stay in Egypt before returning to Nazareth, once more Matthew telling us that “there he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, He will be called a Nazorean” (2:23). Matthew’ story makes Jesus both central but dependent, emerging from a scriptural tradition; as in Luke, there soon appears an apparent resistance to the events as relational. The tension between two versions cannot be avoided. Despite Matthew’s insistence, the ambiguity remains.
The first appearance of an angel, in a dream, begins to influence human decisions and events. Angels intervene; they appear for different reasons, to provide guidance, knowledge, or in the case of Joseph, some reassurance. The angel appears to Joseph in a dream so as to relieve him of an understandable apprehension. Joseph is engaged to be married to Mary; sometime prior to their wedding day, she has informed him of her pregnancy. Despite vowing that she is still a virgin, Mary is expecting a child – a son that will not be his. His reaction must have been emotional and incredulous. The future husband is anxious about his future-wife’s possible promiscuity, though his imagination must have considered other, even more disturbing possibilities. Later writers will not hesitate to expose Mary to Roman brutality as a plausible explanation for her pregnancy and to deny the Christian belief in the virgin birth. It would have been socially acceptable for Joseph to reject her as a future bride. He considered breaking off the engagement publicly; since he was a “righteous” man, pious and considerate, he did not want to expose her to the serious consequences of public shame. Joseph therefore made the decision to call off the wedding and end their relationship privately. If her pregnancy became known, a traditional community would forever stigmatize her. Reacting perhaps naturally and no doubt feeling betrayed and shocked, Joseph resolved to break off their engagement. The social shame ←46 | 47→would be too much to bear, a future with her as his wife (with a child not even his own) unthinkable. He no doubt talked to his father, who would have arranged the marriage in the first place. The angel, appearing to him prior to carrying out his intentions, has extraordinary news for Joseph; first, the son Mary will bear has been conceived by the Holy Spirit and “you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins” (1:21) and second, how all the events about to unfold are in relation to announcements made by the prophets and initiated by God. How Joseph could have understood the meaning of “Holy Spirit” (literally, a holy or sacred breath – that which made Adam a “living soul”) is difficult to fathom; the promise of his son being a “savior” may have been equally puzzling, especially for someone who was a skilled trade-worker without much of a formal education, even if he had traditional familiarity with the Hebrew bible. Matthew’s narrative forces us to presuppose Joseph being able to understand the message from an angel – an emissary from God who is supposed to make all such communication understandable. One cannot easily assume Joseph’s knowledge of a theological vocabulary; besides, that he had a dream of an angel also meant he merely reflected a common superstition in antiquity – that dreams were meaningful and related to God, portents, or the dead. In any case, Joseph accepted the dream as truthful. He had enough belief in the significance of dreams to change his mind, keep her pregnancy secret, and get married to Mary after all.
Now that Matthew has outlined the detailed genealogy of Jesus’ family as it relates, chronologically, to the patriarch Abraham