There Is No Such Thing As An Ordinary Life

 

MATTHEW 1:12-17

12 And after the deportation to Babylon: Jechoniah was the father of Shealtiel, and Shealtiel the father of Zerubbabel, 13 and Zerubbabel the father of Abiud, and Abiud the father of Eliakim, and Eliakim the father of Azor, 14 and Azor the father of Zadok, and Zadok the father of Achim, and Achim the father of Eliud, 15 and Eliud the father of Eleazar, and Eleazar the father of Matthan, and Matthan the father of Jacob, 16 and Jacob the father of Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born, who is called Christ.
17 So all the generations from Abraham to David were fourteen generations, and from David to the deportation to Babylon fourteen generations, and from the deportation to Babylon to the Christ fourteen generations.

 

 

What the genealogy of Jesus does is show us something very important: it shows that Jesus came from a particular people in a particular part of the world. Jesus was Jewish, a son of Abraham, an Israelite. This point cannot be overstated: God chose one particular family to be his means to save the world, and when the time was right, God came as a baby in a particular manger in Bethlehem. God uses the ordinary realities of everyday life as part of his ultimate plan. This means that God wants to use your ordinary decisions today as part of his plan. Either you are working with God, or against him. Which will it be today?

P.S. Note how Matthew breaks the pattern “X was the father of Y, Y was the father of Z” when he gets to Joseph and Mary—he is setting us up for the miracle of the Virgin Birth.

 

 

Psalm 137

1 By the waters of Babylon,
    there we sat down and wept,
    when we remembered Zion.
2 On the willows there
    we hung up our lyres.
3 For there our captors
    required of us songs,
and our tormentors, mirth, saying,
    “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”
4 How shall we sing the Lord's song
    in a foreign land?
5 If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
    let my right hand forget its skill!
6 Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth,
    if I do not remember you,
if I do not set Jerusalem
    above my highest joy!
7 Remember, O Lord, against the Edomites
    the day of Jerusalem,
how they said, “Lay it bare, lay it bare,
    down to its foundations!”
8 O daughter of Babylon, doomed to be destroyed,
    blessed shall he be who repays you
    with what you have done to us!
9 Blessed shall he be who takes your little ones
    and dashes them against the rock!

 

 

In 586 BC, the Babylonia Empire razed Jerusalem to the ground and removed its people into exile in Babylon, between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers.

Psalm 137 comes from the time immediately following that cataclysm; it closes with what is perhaps the nastiest verse in the entire Bible.

1 By the waters of Babylon,
    there we sat down and wept,
    when we remembered Zion.

Unsurprisingly, the exiles first action upon arriving in Babylon (between “the rivers”) is to lay down and weep.

2 On the willows there
    we hung up our lyres.
3 For there our captors
    required of us songs,
and our tormentors, mirth, saying,
    “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”

Willow trees grow alongside rivers, and when the exiles arrived their oppressors taunted them to “sing about Zion!” It wasn’t just that Zion had been their home; it was that Zion was the home of the Temple, the Lord’s “house.” Did the Babylonian victory mean that the Babylonian god was stronger than the Lord?

And so the Israelite exiles resisted and hung up their harps and refused to sing.


4 How shall we sing the Lord's song
    in a foreign land?

This is the central question of exile, isn’t it? How can we stay faithful even when it looks like we’ve been abandoned by God?

5 If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
    let my right hand forget its skill!
6 Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth,
    if I do not remember you,
if I do not set Jerusalem
    above my highest joy!

And so the psalmist declares: if I forget from where I came, then let my hand cease to work and my mouth cease to speak.

7 Remember, O Lord, against the Edomites
    the day of Jerusalem,
how they said, “Lay it bare, lay it bare,
    down to its foundations!”

Edom was an historic enemy of Israel, located to the south and east of the Dead Sea (in present day Jordan). We don’t know to what v. 7 is specifically referring, but it seems the Edomites rejoiced over Jerusalem’s fall, and the psalmist wants to be sure they receive punishment for their gloating.

8 O daughter of Babylon, doomed to be destroyed,
    blessed shall he be who repays you
    with what you have done to us!

The prophets had said that the Lord would use Babylon to punish Israel, but that Babylon would itself subsequently be punished for its wickedness. The psalmist says that whoever punishes Babylon will be blessed! (Historical note—Cyrus the Great of Persia conquered Babylon in 539 BC, not even 50 years later.)


The Nastiest Verse in the Bible?

And then we come to the nastiest verse in the entire Bible. After the psalmist sings of his misery at living in Babylonian captivity, he closes his psalm:

9 Blessed shall he be who takes your little ones
    and dashes them against the rock!

The psalmist pronounces blessing on anyone who beats out the brains of Babylonian babies. Presumably, he is saying this in a language the Babylonians don’t understand, as a bitter ironic response to the Babylonian guards’ taunts that the Israelites “sing”.

What do we do with that kind of language?

Let us not clutch our pearls and imagine ourselves to be so much above such emotions. It is literally unimaginable for us to consider what it would be like to have your city razed, women raped, children killed, and to be carried off into exile.

The psalms are our prayers to God. Because honesty in prayer is so important, there are times when are prayers to God will disclose just how evil are some of the thoughts of our hearts.

If we keep these sorts of emotions in, they will still be there, festering. Sunlight is the best disinfectant.

Evil produces evil. Babylonian wickedness provokes Israelite hatred. This is one of the many reasons our evil actions toward others are so dangerous—they provoke them to hate me, thereby doubling injuring them, both body and soul.

The only way out of this trap is grace, and the only way out of the evil of the world is Jesus. Jesus died for his enemies, thereby showing us what God is like.

It seems counterintuitive, but the more we consistently pray our true emotions and read scripture, the more the Spirit will conform us into Christ’s image.