Our pastor told me a couple of weeks ago that he thinks our church is best described like Rudolph’s “island of misfit toys.” We all know we’re a bunch of misfits who have tasted the goodness of the grace of God.
Many of the students I worked with at French Camp felt like misfits too. Brokenness and dysfunction in families left many of them feeling rejected or excluded in one way or another. Maybe you can relate?
One of the Lord’s sweetest blessings (among many) in moving us to the Jackson area is getting to stay connected with girls I got to know from French Camp. Each week they come for soup and dessert, thanks to our wonderful Madison Heightsyouth leader Molly Hertel, then we chat, look at a portion of God’s Word, and pray.
Last week, we went through a box of Proclamation ornaments that have OT (Old Testament) references for prophecies of the coming Messiah on one side and the NT (New Testament) references that show how Jesus is the perfect fulfillment of all the prophecies.
In the midst of being awed by things foretold hundreds of years prior, and then fulfilled to the detail, even by enemies of God, the girls and I found ourselves in a discussion about the “mothers” of Jesus listed in His genealogy in Matthew: Before Mary, I was impressed that the girls remembered who most of them were: Rahab (the Canaanite prostitute), Ruth, (the Moabitess), Tamar, (widowed daughter-in-law of Perez who bore a son to Perez after pretending to be a prostitute), and Solomon’s mother (Bathsheba) who “had been Uriah’s wife.”
And even Mary. If you haven’t seen the Nativity Story, I highly recommend this beautiful, moving, well-written film. Until I saw this movie just a few years ago, I don’t think I got the shame Mary likely endured by the looks and gossip after she returned home from visiting Elizabeth. Have you ever been the object of scorn? You are not alone.
In his book Hidden Christmas, Tim Keller reminds us that these cultural and racial outsiders would have been excluded by the Law of Moses from worshiping God in the tabernacle or the temple, and YET. “…They are all publicly acknowledged as ancestors of Jesus.”
I can barely even imagine what it would be like to not be allowed to go in to God’s presence to worship… There are some places that are off limits to me—like prisons and military bases and the White House—places where I would need some kind of special access. But the closest thing I can imagine to not being allowed to go in to God’s presence to worship comes from memories of visiting the Greek Orthodox church with my father’s family when I was growing up.
A beautifully ornate wall, dressed in long panels of Byzantine icons, separated the inner sanctuary from the raised platform at the front, and only the priest and altar boys were allowed inside. As a little girl, I so wished I could get a peak or venture in. But I had a fear that lightning would strike if I did.
My understanding is that the design of Greek Orthodox churches is to mirror the biblical description of the Temple of Jerusalem.
No women were allowed inside the Temple.
That makes it all the more striking that God saw fit to include not just women, but these women, in His genealogy.
As Keller puts it, “By naming these particular women, Matthew deliberately recalls for readers some of the most sordid, nasty, and immoral incidents in the Bible…”
He continues, “Here, then, you have moral outsiders—adulterers, adulteresses, incestuous relationships, prostitutes. Indeed, we are reminded that even the prominent male ancestors—Judah and David—were moral failures.”
“What does it mean? First, it shows us that people who are excluded by culture, excluded by respectable society, and even excluded by the law of God can be brought in to Jesus’ family. It doesn’t matter your pedigree, it doesn’t matter what you have done, it doesn’t matter whether you have killed people. If you repent and believe in Him, the grace of Jesus Christ can cover your sin and unite you with him. In ancient times there was a concept of “ceremonial uncleanness.” If you wanted to stay holy, or respectable, or good, you had to avoid contact with the unholy. The unholiness was considered to be “contagious,” as it were, and so you had to stay separate. But Jesus turns that around. His holiness and goodness cannot be contaminated by contact with us. Rather His holiness infects us by our contact with Him. Come to Him, regardless of who you are and what you have done, no matter how morally stained you are, and He can make you pure as snow (Isaiah 1:18).” Pp. 31-32
Maybe you’ve been staying from God? Maybe you’ve felt scorned by religious people? Or maybe you are ashamed because of choices you’ve made? There is an accuser who whispers in our ear so softly it’s hard to differentiate his voice from our own and from the voice of others.
But Christ suffered every accusation we justly deserve. And just as He included the outcast as His mothers in His genealogy, His arms are outstretched to welcome all who will cry out to Him by faith. He loves to restore broken people.