Pastor Stan Mons
Sermon Transcription:
Amen, amen, church. You’ve heard the expression, “When it rains, it pours.” I’ve had that on my heart and on my mind quite a bit in this last season. This morning has been, again, a morning that seems to be too big for me. Challenges, attacks, and trials—unexpected things that seem far greater than what I’m able to handle or do. I feel weaker than I usually do. As we were worshiping, the Lord brought to mind that this is exactly how the disciples felt when they were on the boat in the storm. I was sleeping in that boat; I was in that boat. When I woke up, with one word, there was a calm to the storm. What He really brought to my remembrance is this: every storm the Lord allows us to sail into—because He does—has a purpose. In the midst of that storm, we are supposed to learn something about the power of Jesus.
Every storm that may come our way, I just want to remind you before we pray, has a purpose. If we remember this as we’re sailing into it, or when it unexpectedly hits us—"Oh, I understand. I’m going to learn something in this place about the power of Jesus, the presence of Jesus, the abilities of Jesus"—then those storms don’t have the power to cause panic, fear, or anxiety in our hearts. Instead, there’s an expectation that somebody is going to meet us in that storm, and we’re going to learn something. In that hope, I’m standing before you this morning. Lord, we come before You. Lord, You know my needs. Lord God, You know the things that fall heavy on my heart. Lord, You know the things that make me feel like I could not have planned for them. You know, Lord God, the things that make me feel like I can’t carry them one more step. But, Lord, You remind us of Jesus Christ, who is able and willing to save to the utmost.
Lord, I pray that the eyes of our hearts, the eyes of our minds, our understanding—all of ourselves—may see Jesus today. Lord, may our eyes not be fixed on the storm, and may our hearts not be overwhelmed by the things life seems to throw at us—the things we never hoped or planned for, yet here they are, and we’re carrying them. Lord Jesus, would You send Your Holy Spirit to use the Word and to shine a light on Your Word, Father, that we may understand and see Jesus clearly for who He is today. Lord, that there may be hope, joy, and expectation, Lord God, in the midst of the storm. In Jesus’ name, amen. Amen.
I want to speak to you today on the fourth word in the Seeing the Word series. The title for this one is The Way God Chooses. I want to dive right into it with you, in the Book of Matthew—the first book after the white page in your Bible, the division between the Old Testament and the New Testament. As we set out on a journey to see Jesus clearly all over the Old Testament, by the power of the blood, the blindness is being removed from our lives, and now we’re beginning to see Jesus clearly as we read the Old Testament. There’s a purpose to all of it. Let me start by reading to you how Matthew begins this New Testament journey.
Now, Matthew wasn’t necessarily the first book written, but as far as Matthew was concerned, he was now writing something that he prayerfully considered. We know that it was inspired by the Holy Spirit, but Matthew was seeking to glue New Testament believers to the Old Testament scriptures. The New Testament did not exist; all that circulated around was portions of the Old Testament, and this is Matthew’s attempt—Matthew’s endeavor, led by the Spirit—to glue New Covenant, New Testament believers to that Old Testament. Here’s how he starts to introduce it, starting in verse one: “The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.”
Now, that’s where we’re going to look. If there is one thing that I often hear people say feels dry, or they don’t see the purpose of it, or they say they see the purpose because its in the Bible but really they don't. Or they want to feel like they want to read this but they don't, we're going to look at the genealogies. We're going to look at a New Testament one that points to the Old Testament. Even in the genealogies, you can clearly see Jesus and learn things about Him. I pray to God that this encourages you, excites you, and makes you desire to see what else is hiding in this Word now that the Holy Spirit begins to open it up to you.
Verse two: “Abraham begot Isaac, Isaac begot Jacob, and Jacob begot Judah and his brothers. Judah begot Perez and Zerah by Tamar, Perez begot Hezron, and Hezron begot Ram. Ram begot Amminadab, Amminadab begot Nahshon, and Nahshon begot Salmon. Salmon begot Boaz by Rahab, Boaz begot Obed by Ruth, Obed begot Jesse, and Jesse begot David the king. David the king begot Solomon by her who had been the wife of Uriah. Solomon begot Rehoboam, Rehoboam begot Abijah, and Abijah begot Asa. Asa begot Jehoshaphat, Jehoshaphat begot Joram, and Joram begot Uzziah. Uzziah begot Jotham, Jotham begot Ahaz, and Ahaz begot Hezekiah. Hezekiah begot Manasseh, Manasseh begot Amon, and Amon begot Josiah. Josiah begot Jeconiah and his brothers about the time they were carried away to Babylon. And after they were brought to Babylon, Jeconiah begat Shealtiel, and Shealtiel begot Zerubbabel. Zerubbabel begot Abiud, Abiud begot Eliakim, and Eliakim begot Azor. Azor begot Zadok, Zadok begot Achim, and Achim begot Eliud. Eliud begot Eleazar, Eleazar begot Matthan, and Matthan begot Jacob. And Jacob begot Joseph, the husband of Mary, of whom was born Jesus, who is called Christ.”
“So all the generations from Abraham to David are fourteen generations, from David until the captivity in Babylon are fourteen generations, and from the captivity in Babylon until the Christ are fourteen generations.” Now, picture for a moment Matthew’s position. He is one of the people who personally knew Jesus—called by Jesus, walked with Jesus, learned from Jesus. He physically knew Him. This is Matthew’s way of connecting New Testament believers—which you are a part of—to the Old Testament.
Initially, Matthew was mainly writing to Jewish new believers, but they were new believers nonetheless, and he sought to connect them to that Old Testament, which was all the scripture they had at that time. But there’s something very extraordinary that Matthew does here. Jewish genealogies, if you read the Old Testament ones, never included women. They simply didn’t.
Yet, we see that Matthew, a Jew, is writing to Jews about a Jew, and in his opening chapter, he writes a genealogy that does include women. Now, if you were a Jew at that time, receiving a letter from a Jew about a Jew, and it opened with a genealogy—which was not uncommon—but included women scattered throughout, this would have been a major red flag. You’d think, “Either this guy doesn’t know what he’s doing, or he’s not a real Jew, or this is intentional.” But it would definitely stir a reaction, as this was not how things were traditionally done. Why did Matthew include Old Testament women in his genealogy? And not all of them—he mentions five, with one being Mary, the mother of Jesus. But he adds four more in a scattering of men within a traditional genealogy. He scatters a couple of women right in there.
So, what is the God who inspired the Scriptures, who inspired Matthew to write this—what is the God who inspired those Scriptures trying to teach you today? What is He trying to teach you and me by having this very unusual thing done by Matthew? As Matthew begins to write his account, not all the women are included—just five, with Mary being one of them. The Word begins to diverge really from the beginning of this genealogy; by verse two, we start to realize there’s a good reason to perhaps leave this genealogy on the shelf, skip over it, and get to the “good part”—just start talking about Jesus. But Jesus didn’t come from a lineage of impressive men.
Jesus did not come from the lineage of Joseph—the Joseph who became the second-in-command in Egypt, the one who was used and abused by his brothers, yet rose to the occasion every single time. Every trial he faced, he responded well, to the point where he was now in command under Pharaoh in Egypt. Joseph saved his father, his brothers, and ultimately paved the way for the entire people of Israel to flourish for hundreds of years. Yet, Jesus did not choose to come from the lineage of Joseph. Nor did He come from the lineage of Moses. Moses came from Levi; he was a Levite, leading the people out of Egypt back into freedom. But Jesus passed over Levi as well.
God decided that His only begotten Son would come into this world through the lineage of Judah, and that is a very significant point—a statement that God is making. The Christ came through the lineage of Judah, and Matthew, inspired by God's Spirit, finds it crucial to let us know that Jesus chooses this lineage: Judah, and then his son Perez, a twin born of Tamar, the first woman mentioned in the genealogy. And that name, Tamar—that woman—the first being brought into this genealogy, is a marker, an exclamation point, a directional sign. Matthew is trying to bring a story to mind for the reader. As we go through a typical genealogy, all the men are there, but he places these exclamation points of women behind certain stories to draw our attention somewhere. Matthew is pointing out these stories in the genealogy of Jesus to help us learn something about this Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world. He calls out Old Testament stories so that, in this New Testament time, we understand something of this Jesus much much better.
Let me give you some background on why it is so significant that Jesus chose the lineage of Judah. Judah took a Gentile wife, a non-Jewish wife, for his firstborn son. Her name was Tamar. But this eldest son was killed by the Lord because his ways were so evil—the Word tells us the Lord killed him because he was so wicked. According to tradition, Judah then took Tamar and gave her to his younger son. This younger son made sure that Tamar could not conceive with him, and again, God was so angered by this younger son that He killed him as well.
At this point, Judah starts to think, "Tamar must be the problem. My sons are dying off." So, after considering this, Judah doesn’t feel comfortable giving his youngest son to Tamar. He makes up an excuse and says, “He’s still too young. Go back to your father’s house, live with your father,” and he sends her away. Some time later, Judah’s wife dies. First his eldest son, then his middle son, and now his wife. Tamar hears that Judah is visiting Timnah nearby, and what does she do? She camouflages herself as a prostitute. This is where we read the story of Judah and Tamar. Let me read to you from Genesis 38, starting in verse 15: “When Judah saw her, he thought she was a harlot—he thought she was a prostitute—because she had covered her face.”
So here we have Judah, the one from whom the Messiah would ultimately come. He’s walking down the road, minding his business. He’s in town for business, as he has sheep there, and they need to be shorn; they’re going to take the wool back to camp. But while he’s in town, he sees a woman who appears to be a prostitute. Instead of avoiding her or going another way, he approaches her. Verse 16: “Then he turned to her by the way and said, ‘Please let me come in to you,’ for he did not know that she was his daughter-in-law.” So she said, “What will you give me, that you may come in to me?” And he said, “I will send you a young goat from the flock.”
So she said, “Will you give me a pledge until you send it?” Then he said, “What pledge shall I give you?”
So she said, “Your signet and cord, and your staff that is in your hand.” Then he gave them to her, and went into her, and she conceived by him. Here we have Judah conceiving twins with his own daughter-in-law. The twins, Perez and Zerah—Perez, the son of all this mess, this shameful, ridiculous story—became part of the lineage of Jesus. Chosen by God to be a part of the generation from which the Son of God would be born. Now consider this: Joseph was sold by his brothers to Egypt around the same time. He was tempted in Potiphar’s house by Potiphar’s wife—a woman who would have had the finest clothes, makeup, and servants to ensure she always appeared beautiful.
Joseph did not have a wife; he did not have anyone taking care, if you will, of his physical needs. He was ambushed, the Bible describes, by this woman who just wanted him. Joseph fled, turning away to the point where he had to leave his coat behind in her hand as he escaped. Around that same time, his older brother, who sold him—who was part of selling him—created this incredible mess by going out of his way to seek out what he thought was a prostitute, only to then conceive with his own daughter-in-law. Two brothers. And somehow, Jesus says, “I’m going to go with this lineage. I’m choosing that this is my family history. I’m embracing that family history.” Jesus didn’t choose the honorable, the well-lived, the impressive story. He chose Judah, not Levi’s, not Moses’, not Joseph’s. And Matthew is pointing it out to help you and I see in these Old Testament stories the lineage that Jesus chooses.
The second woman mentioned is Rahab—Salmon and Rahab. Let me take you to Joshua 6:25: "And Joshua spared Rahab the harlot, her father’s household, and all that she had. So, she dwells in Israel to this day because she hid the messengers whom Joshua had sent to spy out Jericho." Rahab was one of the prostitutes of Jericho, living as a prostitute. She did this one righteous act in her life, and for it, she was spared when the walls of Jericho came down. She married a Jewish man—Salmon—who must have been quite a man to take her in by marriage. She became part of the Israelites, and together, Salmon and Rahab the prostitute had a son.
Rahab, again, was a Gentile woman. The first woman, Tamar, was also a Gentile. Jesus said, “I pick that lineage.” The second woman mentioned, Rahab—a prostitute, a Gentile—was part of an impure lineage, not a pure Jewish lineage. And again, Jesus chose the lineage of Rahab. Their son was Boaz.
The third woman mentioned is the woman Boaz marries: Ruth. In Deuteronomy 23:3, here is what the Word says about Ruth: "An Ammonite or Moabite shall not enter the assembly of the Lord; even to the tenth generation, none of his descendants shall enter the assembly of the Lord forever." Here we have Ruth, a Moabitess, coming into the territories of the Israelites. This Boaz, who was born of a prostitute—a Gentile woman—sees this Moabite. He knows what the Word says. He knows the Old Testament command against marrying a Moabite woman, one who was never to enter into the assembly of the Lord, meaning the people of God. They couldn’t marry a Moabite because of how the Moabites had treated the Israelites.
When God led the Israelites out of Egypt, the Moabites had taken a step back, saying, “We are not going to be your friends. If you starve here in the desert, so be it. We are not helping you. In fact, we’re going to hire a witch doctor to curse you.” Instead of giving them food and drink, they sought to curse them. And so, God gave a law: no Moabite would be part of the people of God. None of their descendants would enter the assembly of the Lord forever. And here Boaz marries a Moabite woman, and Jesus says, “That’s going to be my lineage. That’s the one I’m choosing.” This was a situation of a broken law for the rest of their lives. That law was there every morning Boaz woke up next to his Moabite wife. Every breath he took was a breach of the law, as long as he was married to her. It wasn’t just the wedding day; it was every day of his life. He lived guilty of breaking the law for life. Their son was Obed, who had a son named Jesse, the father of King David.
Then we arrive at the fourth woman mentioned, pointed out by Matthew, directing us toward these Old Testament stories. He describes it this way: “David”—he doesn’t say Bathsheba—"David and her who had been the wife of Uriah.” Matthew is saying, “If by now you’re not understanding, I’m making it plain and clear. I’m not even naming her; I’m naming her by the story, so that the story is on your mind as you read this genealogy: David and her who had been the wife of Uriah.” Let me take you to 2 Samuel 11:3: "So David sent and inquired about this woman, and someone said, 'Is this not Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite?'" David saw a woman. He already had many wives and women around him, yet he desired this one. So, he sent one of his servants to find out who she was. Someone brought back the information, but they felt compelled to add a subtle warning: “Isn’t this the wife of Uriah?” They were not just stating facts; they were subtly warning David, “Bad idea. Don’t do this.” Isn’t this the wife of Uriah, the Hittite? Uriah was one of David’s mighty men. He ate at David’s table and was a personal friend. The mighty men of David are listed throughout the Old Testament.
Uriah the Hittite was right there, and they say, "Isn't that Uriah's wife, David?" But David takes the wife of his friend. He tries to cover it up, and when he can't, he kills his friend, marries the woman, and they have a son named Solomon. And God chooses for the Christ to be born into this kind of lineage—a Hittite woman, a Gentile again. This fourth woman, another Gentile, marks an impure lineage, a genealogy filled, if you will, with black pages. And Jesus chooses it.
Solomon, King Solomon, we read about in 1 Kings 11:4: "For it was so, when Solomon was old, that his wives turned his heart to other gods, and his heart was not loyal to the Lord his God, as was the heart of his father David." Solomon was a backslider. He started off with God, trusted God, served God, and then, in the end of his life, turned away from God, turned away from serving and honoring God. This pattern continued in his lineage. His son Rehoboam followed a similar path. 2 Chronicles 12:14 describes him: "And he did evil because he did not prepare his heart to seek the Lord." Again, here was a son who didn't even seek God, and yet Jesus says, "This is my lineage, my genealogy; this is what I'm choosing." Rehoboam’s son, Abijah, continued the trend. 1 Kings 15:3 states: "And he walked in all the sins of his father which he had done before him; his heart was not loyal to the Lord his God, as was the heart of his father David."
Church, why is it that as Matthew writes his gospel, led by the Holy Spirit, he points out the worst parts of these stories so explicitly? It’s not just a politically correct mention of historical events. No Jew reading this genealogy would miss the impact. They would be shocked to see the names of these women, each story bringing to mind the full, painful history behind them. Four Gentile women and their stories, right there in the first lines of Matthew's gospel. The Spirit of Christ, inspiring Matthew’s writing, is showing us through these genealogies that they are not only about tracing lineage—they reveal God's choices. They reveal how God chooses.
God had options, just as He has options today. He could have chosen a lineage full of righteous men. He could have chosen the lineage of Moses—good stories in that line. Or perhaps Joseph—someone who foreshadowed what Jesus would do in many ways. That would make sense. God had options, but He chooses, very intentionally, this lineage. God has options today, too. And so often we feel we are not a good option for God. We feel God won’t choose us, won’t favor us, because of our past or even our present. We think, "There are better options. How could God use me?"
But God wants you and me to understand how He chooses so that we may understand His heart. In 1 Corinthians 1:26-27: "But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the mighty." Church, Matthew is, for many, introducing Jesus for the first time. He’s writing for people who may think that their past disqualifies them, or that they can’t measure up. They may feel that their wrongs, or even their past failures, turn God away. But Matthew is showing that when God has options, He doesn’t choose the best; He chooses the least likely. He's trying to help people understand that God chooses differently. These people came from an Old Covenant mindset—one where those able to keep the law best were the examples. But Matthew is speaking to people trapped in that mindset, showing them: God doesn't pick the "most qualified."
Aren't you seeing? God chooses differently. He doesn't choose the strong. He chooses those who need redemption. He chooses prostitutes, liars, murderers, and the broken. Surely this means that your wrongs, and my wrongs, do not disqualify us from Jesus. That’s what Matthew is explaining. Our feelings of disqualification, our fears that we aren’t good enough, are misplaced. Matthew makes it clear: God chooses differently. If you are the worst option, you are exactly the one God sees. He is choosing you. The devil, the Word tells us, has been a liar from the beginning. He speaks out of his own character. It’s all he can do. He lies to us, saying, "You’ve sinned; you’re weak; you’re rebellious; you’ve failed too many times. God must be done with you." Church, we have to believe what God says. We must tell the enemy, "Satan, you’re missing it completely. All the things you mention—my failures, my flaws—are the very reasons that God chooses me."
God chooses differently, Church. This is how God chooses: if it is weak, if it is broken, if it needs saving, if it needs to be redeemed, if it doesn’t really belong, if anyone’s life is stuck in sin and they can’t seem to make a change—even if they don’t really want to make a change—God says, “I’m choosing that person.” The Spirit of the Living God, by pointing back to these Old Testament stories through this genealogy, is helping you understand how God chooses when He has options. Because the Spirit wants you to understand—not just accept, not just move yourself to believe—the Spirit wants you to know that God has chosen you. God has chosen you to be a witness to this world. He knew He had better options, and that’s why He chose you. You were the worst option on many people’s list, the last pick. But God says, “I choose differently; I choose you to be a witness to this world.”
God chooses you to carry His presence with you all the days of your life, wherever you go. God chooses you to be a living demonstration of the kind of power He has to forgive. He showed it on the cross of Jesus Christ. On that cross, God chose sinners to come and live with Him for eternity. He had other options, but He chose you. He has loved you, and He has chosen the weak things of this world. Church, your weakness, your brokenness, your shameful past—as true as it may be—God has chosen you because of it. Let me read to you 1 John 4:14: “And we have seen and testify that the Father has sent the Son as Savior of the world.” In other words, we’ve seen and testify that God sent His Son, and this is who He is—He is Savior. He notices those who need saving; He’s drawn to it. Anyone, any situation, any past that needs saving—He is drawn to these kinds of people. This is who He is; this comes naturally for Him. He is Savior. He is drawn to your weakness because He is Savior. He is drawn to your distress because He is a rescuer.
It’s like a lifeguard sitting in a tower at the beach. A lifeguard doesn’t notice the people who swim well or how nice the weather is; the lifeguard is trained and dedicated to one purpose: noticing those who shouldn’t have gone in the water, the ones drowning, who went too far out and ran out of strength. The lifeguard lives for this. It’s a part of who they are—they notice the ones who need saving. They notice those at risk of losing their life in the sea. And in a similar way, Jesus is Savior. Everything that causes you to drown, He notices it, and it makes Him run toward you. It doesn’t make Him say, “Well, clearly, you shouldn’t have gotten in the water.” No, He’s there to help, not to condemn. He is like a Savior who cannot look away from those in trouble. He is gravitated toward them, ready to pick them up, to say, “I’ll do it for you. This is who I am; I can’t help Myself. I will do it for you.”
If you would stand with me for a moment, Church, your past—no matter how horrible it may be, no matter your challenges today, your shameful acts, or your sins of the past and present—they do not disqualify you. Jesus notices you and chooses you because of these things. The devil is a liar; Christ has come as the Savior of the world. This is the gospel. If you believe, God will send His Spirit to live inside your heart and make you a demonstration to this world of the cleansing power of the cross. Let Jesus save your situation today. He’s not offended by it, He doesn’t turn away from it; He chooses differently. He notices the ones we might want to reject, and He says, “Now you—I choose to be a part of your life. I love you. I’ve come into the world because I noticed you, and I don’t want you to go through this alone. I don’t want you to deal with this by yourself.”
If you have a situation in your life today and you’re carrying your sin around, let Jesus save you today. He’s chosen you even though you walk around with sin. If there’s something in your life that’s weighing you down, if you feel like a failure, if you feel like you deserve rejection, if you feel like you’ve used up all your grace—Jesus notices you because of it. He chooses you because of it. God chooses differently, Church. This is the Gospel of Jesus Christ: a Father giving up His only begotten Son because He wants to bring sinners into His home. This is what He’s like. If you have a situation and you’re ready to finally give it to Jesus, if you want Him to save you from your sin or your situation, whatever it may be, would you join me at this altar and let Jesus be a Savior to you? Would you let Him do what He longs to do when He looks at your life? Amen.
-Pastor Stan Mons