The Incarnation in the Gospels

Daniel M. Doriani, Philip Graham Ryken, Richard D. Phillips

• Publisher: P Publishing
• Year: 2008
• ISBN:
  9781596384583
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Systematic Theology & Ethics

Studies on three Advent passages combine commentary with devotional and pastoral insight. Also includes essays and reflections on gospel-centered worship and Christmas customs, as well as five new hymns.

Part 1

The Incarnation in Matthew:
The Hope of Israel

DANIEL M. DORIANI

1

The Identity of Jesus Christ

Matthew 1:1–17

A record of the genealogy of Jesus Christ the son of David, the son of Abraham. (Matt. 1:1)

T he biblical accounts of the birth of Christ answer all the questions people like to ask. How? By the direct, miraculous intervention of the Holy Spirit, a virgin conceived. Why? To usher in the climactic stage of God’s plan of redemption. When and where? In Bethlehem of Judea, during the reign of Herod the Great, when Quirinius was governor of Syria. Yet there is no doubt that the Gospels, not least Matthew, take greatest interest in the question “Who?” Who is this who is born after such preparation, amid such great signs and portents?

We know intuitively that Matthew’s interest in the identity of Jesus is right. We know that all hope of making sense of events rests on a knowledge of the characters. This is true of the birth of Jesus as it is true for any striking event.

One Saturday I headed off for a doubles tennis match against the best team in the league. I arrived hoping for an upset, and those hopes surged as I began to warm up with one of our opponents. He was a big, hard-hitting lefty, but he looked erratic and slow-footed. Much hinged on his partner, who had not arrived. The minutes ticked away and the time for a forfeit approached when Lefty asked a club pro to find someone to fill in. The pro returned with a slender man named Altof, who moved like a leopard and held his racket in a faintly menacing way. I began to hit with Altof. In league play, men warm up watchfully, trying to judge their opponents’ skills and deficiencies. As I watched Altof, I saw all skill and no deficiencies. His strokes were effortless, his footwork flawless. Every ball he struck came in deep and hard. I leaned over and told my partner, “We need to hit to your man; mine looks very solid.”

We tried to hit everything to Lefty, and it worked well enough that the score was tied 4–4 after eight games. Then, suddenly Altof was everywhere, crushing the ball for winner after winner; we lost the first set, 6–4. Before the second set began, I heard Altof whisper to Lefty, “I need to finish soon.” I told my partner, “If we lose the second set in fifteen minutes, we’ll know something is up.” Indeed, we lost 6–1 in 14 minutes, with Altof covering the entire court, punishing us in point after point. As we shook hands at the net, I said, “That was impressive. Now tell me who you are.”

“Well,” he confessed, “I’m a pro here, just filling in so you could have a match.”

“Oh, I figured that out a while ago,” I smiled. “I want to know: who are you?!”

“OK,” he said, “I’ll tell you. I was a touring pro till a year ago; I played for India’s Davis Cup team.” He had been one of the top 200 players in the world. Now that I knew who he was, I could make sense of our match.

The gospel of Matthew operates on this very principle. Events make sense if and only if we know who the characters are. Matthew 1 certainly describes some very unusual events. There is a virgin who is pregnant by the agency of the Holy Spirit. An angel appears to prevent a young man from setting aside an unwed mother. Later, an angel picks the name of that child and declares that he will be the Savior.

It’s an incomprehensible story, unless you know the characters. So, then, who is this child? It’s a good question; people ask it over and over in the Gospels:

• A storm threatens to swamp a boat and drown everyone on board. Jesus stands up and rebukes the wind and the waves, and they stop at once. His disciples see this and ask, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!” (Mark 4:41; cf. Matt. 8:27).
• He forgives sins and they ask, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” (Luke 7:49).
• He enters Jerusalem attended by a crowd that lays cloaks and palm branches on the road before him. They call out, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” and the city asks, “Who is this?” (Matt. 21:9–10).
• At his trial before the Sanhedrin, the high priest of the Jews says, “Tell us if you are the Christ, the Son of God.” The Roman procurator, Pontius Pilate, asks, “Are you the king of the Jews?” (Matt. 26:63; 27:11).

The whole gospel of Matthew asks and the whole gospel of Matthew tells who this is. The reader starts to learn who Jesus is in the first chapter. The child’s name is Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins (1:1, 21). He is the Christ, anointed by God for a given task (1:1, 18). He is the son of David—born king of the Jews (1:1; 2:2). He is the son of Abraham, for he will bring God’s blessing to the nations (1:1, 18). He is born of the Holy Spirit (1:18). He is Immanuel, for he is “God with us” (1:23).

Jesus received names such as Jesus and Immanuel not because they were fashionable, not because they were manly, not because of family heritage, but because they were fraught with significance. Each name reveals part of Jesus’ identity. The question “Who is this?” leads next to the vital question, “Why is he important?” The answer is traced through the hopes and fears of 2,000 years of Israel’s history. So Matthew 1 introduces us to our hero by stating his name and his origin.

Jesus the Savior

As Matthew introduces Jesus, he quickly reveals several names and titles. Jesus is son of Abraham, therefore he is the hope of both Gentiles and Jews. He is son of David (1:1), therefore the great king of the Jews (2:2, 6). He is the Christ (1:1; 2:4), therefore anointed by God for some crucial task. But first and best, he is Jesus, the Savior (1:1, 21–23).

Jesus is a Hebrew name. In Hebrew it is Joshua; in Greek that becomes Jesus. Joshua means “the Lord [Yahweh] saves” or “The Lord is salvation.” The name Joshua reminds us of the Joshua who succeeded Moses and led Israel into the Promised Land. In that day, the Lord saved his people physically and materially by giving them their land and ending their years of wilderness wandering.

Jesus does not save us this way. He did not save Israel from military enemies. Jesus did save some people from physical illness and danger (8:25; 9:21–22), but physical deliverance is not the essence of his work. Rather, such deliverance pointed beyond itself to God’s eternal restoration of all things. Psalm 130:7–8 says, “O Israel, put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. He himself will redeem Israel from all their sins.” In the long run, God cares about salvation from enemies, disease, and death, but that part of his program lies in the future, when Jesus returns.

By his incarnation, Jesus began to address the problem that lies at the root of all pains and sorrows. He came to save his people from their sins. We see this already in the genealogy of Jesus.

The genealogy shows that Jesus descended from the line of Jewish kings. Matthew names fifteen of them, from David to Jeconiah, also known as Jehoiachin. So Jesus came from a noble line. But if we look hard, we see that this regal group was not especially righteous. About half of the kings were men of faith. Several, including David, Hezekiah, and Josiah, were great men. Still, even among the believers, some committed striking sins. Jehoshaphat entered into alliances with wicked men (2 Chron. 20:35–37). In foolish pride, Hezekiah showed the treasures of Israel to her powerful enemies, who later plundered them (2 Kings 20:12–18). After years of successful rule, Uzziah became proud and dared to usurp the role of a priest and entered the Lord’s temple to burn incense on the altar (2 Chron. 26:1–22).

About half the kings in the genealogy were truly wicked. Ahaz worshiped the pagan gods of Assyria. He practiced human sacrifice. He killed one of his own sons. He stripped the gold and silver from the temple and gave it to other kings. He defiled the Lord’s altar and installed pagan altars instead (2 Kings 16). Nor was Ahaz alone. Rehoboam and Jeconiah were almost as bad and Manasseh was worse. Indeed, Manasseh “did more evil than the nations” that the Lord drove out of Canaan. He promoted the worship of idols and murdered innocent people (2 Kings 21:9–18).

So Jesus’ genealogy includes great kings and sordid sinners. Regal as his lineage was, Jesus did not come to praise his forebears, but to save them. If you doubt this, consider the four women in the genealogy. People often wonder why we find women inserted, apparently at random, in the genealogy. The answer is clear if we notice that common threads appear in the foursome that is interwoven with the kings: “Salmon the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab, Boaz the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth, Obed the father of Jesse, and Jesse the father of King David. David was the father of Solomon, whose mother had been Uriah’s wife” (Matt. 1:5–6). Three women are listed here; the fourth, Tamar, gets a mere mention in 1:3. The four are:

• Tamar the daughter-in-law of Judah, who was the son of Jacob; she played the role of a prostitute (Gen. 38).
• Rahab, the prostitute from Jericho, who helped Israel’s spies (Josh. 2, 6).
• Ruth, the Moabitess who was adopted into the family of Boaz (Ruth 1–4).
• Bathsheba, the paramour of David and the wife of a Hittite (2 Sam. 11–12).

Within this quartet, all but Tamar came from foreign lands or families. They were outside the family of God. Moreover, of the four, three were either prostitutes or adulteresses. The point is clear: Jesus comes from the human line, pimples and all. His own people, his own family, needed him to save them from their sins.

The last part of Jesus’ genealogy shows that Israel was suffering the consequences of its sin (1:11–16). The borders of Israel had failed to hold. Assyria dethroned Israel’s king and Babylon conquered Judah, deported its leaders, and declared the pitiful remnant to be their vassals.

Jesus’ ancestors lost their rank as kings, lost their wealth and land, and nearly lost their identity. We could compare the family of Jesus to the last derelict scion of a once-great family. They were Roosevelts, Lincolns, or Jeffersons, but had fallen far over the years. In any shattered clan, some are drunks, gamblers, or wastrels; others are decent folk, perhaps, but lack any great skill or asset. Those are the people Jesus came to save, then and now. We too have lowlifes in our family, and we have done things that fit a lowlife-laden family.

Christ, the Anointed One

Jesus is a given name. “Christ” eventually became Jesus’ second name in Christian usage, but originally it was a title for the Messiah. As a title, it simply means “anointed one.” To be anointed is to be set apart and empowered by God for a task he appoints. In Israel, priests were always anointed (Ex. 28–30), kings were always anointed (1 Sam. 9, 16), and prophets were sometimes anointed (1 Kings 19:16).

In Jesus’ day,“Christ” came to signify a specific king, one anointed with God’s strength to deliver the people. The people thought of the Christ as a king because they hoped for a military victory and release from Rome. One book from the time said it this way:

See Lord, and raise up for them their king,

The son of David, to rule over your servant Israel In the time known to you, O God.

Undergird him with the strength to destroy the unrighteous rulers,

To purge Jerusalem from Gentiles Who trample her to destruction. (Psalms of Solomon 17:21–32)

Matthew’s gospel gradually reveals that Jesus was anointed for a far greater victory, one that he accomplished by taking all three of the main leadership offices of Israel. He is the king, anointed to defeat our greatest foes—sin and death. He is the priest, anointed to offer a sacrifice to remove the guilt of sin. He is the prophet, anointed to tell the truth about humanity and himself. The greatest truth is that he defeated sin for us because we cannot defeat sin. He offered himself to remove our guilt because we cannot atone or compensate for our sin.

But Jesus is anointed to do more than fulfill the three main offices in Israel. He completes other tasks, as Matthew will show us. He fulfills the role of the Sabbath, by giving true rest to his people. He fulfills the role of the temple, for in him God and mankind meet. He judges mankind, knowing every thought and deed, and forgiving every misdeed if we ask for mercy, believing he can grant it.

The title “Christ” signifies a man who is anointed with oil to consecrate him for a special office. Jesus was commissioned by God for a special task. It is vital that we let God define that task. In Jesus’ day, most Israelites believed God’s Messiah would free them from Roman domination and, somehow, triumph over unrighteousness and purify the nation.

We now know that these hopes were partly right and partly wrong. Jesus did triumph over sin and purify the nation, but he did not liberate Israel from Rome. When Jesus failed to deliver the people the way they expected, some adjusted their expectations, but many others concluded that he must not be the Messiah.

The problem of misguided expectations is common to mankind. We regularly trust the wrong people or expect them to provide what they cannot or should not give. Some Americans expect our superior armed forces to keep us perfectly safe. Some expect their skills to make them prosperous and secure. Jesus says the wise man builds his house upon the rock—not “a” rock, but “the” rock, that is, Jesus, the Christ (Matt. 7:24).

Still, even those who try to build on the rock can suffer disappointment, if they remake Jesus in their image. How so? They may expect Jesus to make life easy. They may think they can know Jesus as Savior but not as Lord. But we must let him define himself: he is both Savior and Lord.

The Son of David, the Hope of Israel (Matt. 1:1–17)

On the side of his father Joseph, Jesus descended, by human accounting, from the royal line of David. He is the offspring of the kingly line. He is the heir of all Israel’s godly kings: Solomon, Jehoshaphat, Hezekiah, Josiah, and the rest. He is the king of the Jews.

But Jesus is not just any king. He is the son of David (1:1). “Son of David” seems to organize the entire genealogy. There are fourteen generations from Abraham to David, fourteen more from the rise of David to the end of his dynasty, when Israel went into exile, and fourteen more until the Christ, the son of David, was born (1:17).

There was a strong hope, in Jesus’ day, for a king who would restore Israel to its former glory and liberate the nation from Roman oppression and degradation. Israel based this hope on a promise the Lord gave David: that David would one day have anheir, a son who would bring a golden age of strength and blessing (2 Sam. 7:12–15):

When your days are over and you rest with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring to succeed you, who will come from your own body, and I will establish his kingdom. He is the one who will build a house for my Name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. . . . My love will never be taken away from him.

This anointed king, this son of David and Son of God, would subdue the kings of the earth and rule them with an iron scepter (Ps. 2:2–9).

Jesus is called “son of David” nine times in Matthew, and that underlines two points. First, he is the long-promised heir of David (1:1, 20). Through him Israel hoped for restoration. He is mighty to defeat the powers of Satan (12:23) and perhaps the powers of Rome.

Second, the people expected the king to heal the land, when he removed the Romans and other pagans who defiled it. They also expected healing for the people, one by one. They believed, to use J. R. R. Tolkein’s words, “The hands of the kin...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Series Introduction
• Preface
• Part 1: The Incarnation in Matthew: The Hope of Israel
• Part 2: The Incarnation in Luke: Songs for the Savior
• Part 3: The Incarnation in John: The Coming of the Light
• Appendix 1: Gospel-Centered Worship Connected to Christ’s Nativity
• Appendix 2: A Christmas Eve Service of Lessons and Carols
• Appendix 3: Five Recent Advent Carols
• Appendix 4: Meditations on Christmas Customs
• Index of Scripture