The Timing of Jesus (Matthew 1:17)

How many generations are there between Abraham and Jesus? 42 (Matthew 1:17)

The Gospel of Matthew, and consequently the New Testament as whole, begins with a genealogy of Jesus (Matthew 1:1-17). It is one of two messianic lineages preserved in the New Testament (Matthew 1:1-17; Luke 3:23-38). Georg Strecker (1929-2004) proposed that the genealogy predates Matthew’s gospel (Der Weg der Gerechtigkeit, 138ff) though most now believe the material is entirely the evangelist’s.

From its opening verse Matthew’s “origins story” stresses that Jesus is “the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham” (Matthew 1:1 NASB) and validates this claim by tracing Jesus’ ancestry through David to Abraham (Matthew 1:1-17). In doing so, Matthew makes the Old Testament Jesus’ back story and places him firmly into the history of Israel.

The genealogy is carefully constructed. M. Eugene Boring (b. 1935) notes:

Matthew follows the biblical pattern of incorporating genealogical material into the narrative as a constituent element of the story, adopting the pattern found in Ruth 4:18-22: “A begot B.” ...Thus the genealogy in Matthew is not a list, but a series of short sentences leading from Abraham to Jesus, the narrative unit of the larger story that follows. (Leander E. Keck [b. 1928], Matthew - Mark (The New Interpreter’s Bible), 129)

The passages’s concluding summary statement further reveals its meticulous alignment (Matthew 1:17). Matthew trisects the data into three fourteen generation epochs.

So all the generations from Abraham to David are fourteen generations; from David to the deportation to Babylon, fourteen generations; and from the deportation to Babylon to the Messiah, fourteen generations. (Matthew 1:17 NASB)

The breakdown is not as simple as the summary statement makes it appear; the list has been deliberately edited to elicit literary symmetry (Matthew 1:17). Ulrich Luz (b. 1938) details:

The genealogy consists of a long series of monotonous, short main clauses. Its organization is decoded by Matthew 1:17: it consists of 3 × 14 generations. However, these cannot be found exactly like this in the text: If one follows Matthew 1:17 literally then David must be counted twice, and the second series of 14 goes from him until Josiah. If one counts Josiah also twice, then one gets a second series of 14 until Jesus. Matthew 1:17, however, accentuates the exile as a break, which is clearly marked also in the genealogy. If one does not begin the third series until Matthew 1:12, then one has only 13 generations for it. The structure given in Matthew 1:17 is not patently clear. It can only be explained by literary criticism. (Luz, Matthew 1-7 (A Continental Commentary), 117)

The genealogy is not exhaustive, clearly omitting generations to meets its trifold pattern. This is especially true of the last series of fourteen (Matthew 1:12-16).

R.T. France (1938-2012) recognizes:

In order to keep the number of generations between David and Jehoichin to fourteen, Matthew has had to omit five of the actual kings recorded in Old Testament history: he goes straight from Joram to Uzziah, omitting the three generations of Ahaziah, Joash, and Amaziah (together with the usurping queen-mother Athaliah), and the brothers Jehoahaz and Jehoiakim are omitted between Josiah and Jehoiachin. (France, The Gospel of Matthew (New International Commentary on the New Testament), 30)

This strained calculation is purposeful. Michael J. Wilkins (b. 1949) assures:

Matthew skips some generations in Jesus’ family tree so that the structure can be made uniform for memorization, while other members are given prominence to make a particular point. (Clinton E. Arnold [b. 1958], Matthew, Mark, Luke (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 10)

This is not atypical for genealogies. Robert R. Wilson (b. 1942) observes that though omissions occur for various reasons, they are not typically found at the outset of lists where founders are important nor at the end where living memory prevails but rather in the middle of the document (Wilson, Genealogy and History in the Biblical World). This impression fits Matthew’s lineage.

Due to the neglected names, the genealogy is unbalanced chronologically. Raymond E. Brown (1928-1998) approximates:

The spans of time covered by the three sections of genealogy are too great to have contained only fourteen generations each, since some 750 years separated Abraham from David, some 400 years separated David from the Babylonian Exile, and some 600 years separated the Babylonian Exile from Jesus’ birth. (Brown, The Birth of the Messiah: A Commentary on the Infancy Narratives in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, 74-75)

In Matthew’s genealogy theology trumps historical precision. William D. Shiell (b. 1972) informs:

As with any other genealogy in the ancient world, Matthew does not include everyone related biologically to Jesus. His is a theological list rather than a family tree, so the list contains the significant names for Matthew’s purposes that reflect a certain picture of Jesus. (Shiell, Sessions with Matthew: Becoming a Family of Faith, 5)

In spite of the summary statement’s assertion (Matthew 1:17), not all of the divisions encompass precisely fourteen names. Craig L. Blomberg (b. 1955) argues that this too is not abnormal to the genre:

The actual number of generations in the three parts of the genealogy are thirteen, fourteen, and thirteen respectively, but ancient counting often alternated between inclusive and exclusive reckoning. Such variation was thus well within standard literary convention of the day (for a good rabbinic parallel, see m. ‘Abot 5:1-6). When once compares the genealogy with Luke’s account and with various Old Testament narratives, it is clear that Matthew has omitted several names to achieve this literary symmetry. But the verb consistently translated...“was the father of” (more literally begat) could also mean was the ancestor of. (Blomberg, Matthew (New American Commentary), 53)

This pliable enumeration is particularly noticeable in the last sequence. As such, many explanations have been offered to explain the purported discrepancy. One of the most common theories is conflation.

Michael J. Wilkins (b. 1949) typifies:

The third group of fourteen generations, from the deportation to Jesus, begins again by counting Jeconiah and ends with Jesus’ name...The name “Jeconiah” may serve as a double entendre to indicate both Jehoiakim and the end of the second group of generations, and also to indicate Jehoiachin and the beginning of the third group of generations after the deportation. On this supposition, the name “Jeconiah” is counted twice to indicate the two different rulers and eras in Matthew’s genealogy. (Wilkins, Matthew (The NIV Application Commentary), 64)

Others, including Krister Stendahl (1921-2008), have conjectured that Jesus and Christ should be tallied as two different generations, with the latter representing the returning Christ (Matthew 1:16).

Though it defies Matthew’s established literary pattern, Robert H. Gundry (b. 1932) suggests that Matthew counts Joseph and Mary as separate generations:

To get this third fourteen Matthew probably counts Mary as well as Joseph; i.e. the one chronological generation carries two other kinds of generations within it, a legal (Joseph’s) and a physical (Mary’s)...The counting of Mary harmonizes with Matthew’s distinction between the royal lineage of Jesus through Joseph (cf. Joseph’s being addressed as “son of David” in Matthew 1:20) and the divine generation of Jesus through Mary. (Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on His Handbook for a Mixed Church under Persecution, 19)

Stanley Hauerwas (b. 1940) postulates:

The last group has only thirteen generations because the church that Jesus calls into existence constitutes the fourteenth generation. (Hauerwas, Matthew (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 31)

Regardless of how the names are calculated, it can be assumed that the oversight is intentional. Frederick Dale Bruner (b. 1932) asserts:

Matthew knows that some of his audience can read, that they can check his kings with the Old Testament. Matthew is not trying to put something over on us; with the sovereign freedom appropriate to the Messiah’s evangelist, Matthew is simply helping history preach doctrine. He drops about four chapters and four kings from his Old Testament genealogy in order to have a smoother, more memorable chronology — in order to get fourteen....This was John Calvin [1509-1564]’s solution too...Matthew does not falsify, he simplifies — Uzziah was the son of Jothan according to the rabbinic rule that “the sons of sons are also sons.” In obedience to the point of Scripture — Jesus the Christ — Matthew sharpened the pointers to him — the roughly comparable number of generations between Abraham, David the Exile, and Christ — because Matthew believes that this rough comparability best “makes the point” of God’s ordering and gracious providence. (Bruner, The Churchbook: Matthew 1-12, 17)

Stanley P. Saunders (b. 1953) concurs:

When Matthew repeatedly names “fourteen generations,” he issues an engraved invitation to go back and count. When one does so, however, it becomes clear that the last segment, which runs from Sheatiel to Jesus [Matthew 1:13-16] is defective, yielding but thirteen generations...Did Matthew make a mistake? If so, it likely an intentional “mistake.” Throughout the genealogy Matthew has included surprises, incongruities, and broken patterns. Matthew is training us to attend to the details. Here he creates a puzzle for us to grapple with. Is Jesus to be counted twice, once as Jesus and again as the Christ? Or does Matthew understand Jesus as the one who simultaneously stands as the sole survivor of his generation (cf. Matthew 2:16-18) and again as the firstfruits of the time of resurrection (cf. Matthew 27:51-54). Is he both the “Son of Humanity” (or “the human one” or “Son of Man”) and Son of God, the representative of both God and humankind? Does the Holy Spirit (cf. Matthew 1:20) represent the thirteenth generation, and Jesus the fourteenth? Matthew does not resolve the puzzle, but compels us to become active interpreters who, in the light of the larger story, must sort out for ourselves who Jesus is. By the end of the genealogy we already know that we should expect the unexpected, look for God’s agents among the vulnerable and powerless, and learn how Jesus fulfills Israel’s history while radically disrupting it. (Saunders, Preaching the Gospel of Matthew: Proclaiming God’s Presence, 4)

While the specifics can be debated, the overarching theme cannot. Donald Senior (b. 1940) determines:

If some of the details remain enigmatic, the overall intent of Matthew’s genealogy is clear. His distillation of Israel’s history brings attention successively to Abraham and patriarchal history, to the image of David the king, to the shattering experience of exile, and to the renewal of hope through the Messiah. (Senior, Matthew (Abingdon New Testament Commentaries), 37)

David L. Turner (b. 1949) professes:

However one handles this problem, D.A. Carson [b. 1946]’s point (1984: 68) is noteworthy: “The symbolic value of the fourteens is of more significance than their precise breakdown.” Matthew certainly knew basic arithmetic as well as modern scholars do, but Matthew’s literary conventions are ancient, not modern. By modern standards, Matthew’s linear genealogy is artificial because it not exhaustive...It is not that Matthew has erred, since he did not intend to work exhaustively and precisely. (Turner, Matthew (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 27)

Whereas Luke’s genealogy is organized around the number seven (Luke 3:23-38), Matthew goes to great lengths to structure Jesus’ ancestry with the integer fourteen (Matthew 1:17). Leon Morris (1914-2006) interjects:

Clearly the number is significant for him, but unfortunately he does not explain why. But the note of fulfillment is strong, and perhaps Marshall D. Johnson (1935-2011) gives us the answer: “The function of the genealogy — the note of fulfillment — explains the lack of a precise and exact parallel with contemporary sources: the two genealogies of Jesus in the New Testament are the only extant Messianic genealogies which are written to prove that the Messiah has come.” We should perhaps bear in mind also the point made by Louis Finkelstein [1895-1991] that the number fourteen was regarded as significant in contemporary Judaism. He says, “The number, ‘fourteen, is not accidental. It corresponds to the number of high priests from the establishment of Solomon’s Temple; the number of high priests from the establishment of the Temple until Jaddua, the last high priest mentioned in Scripture. It is clear that a mystic significance attached to this number, in both the Sadducean and the Pharisaic traditions.” Matthew would have been aware of this and may be producing an argument that would impress Jews. (Morris, The Gospel according to Matthew (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 25)

Charles H. Talbert (b. 1934) further chronicles the precedent:

The number fourteen was conventional in genealogies. In I Chronicles 1-2 are fourteen generations from Abraham to David; in 2 Baruch 53-74 world history is divided into fourteen periods from Adam to the messiah; in m. Avot 1.1-12 are fourteen links in the chain of tradition between Moses and the last of the pairs of teachers. So Matthew’s auditors would have experienced nothing out of the ordinary in this opening of his narrative. (Talbert, Matthew (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament), 33)

Craig S. Keener (b. 1960) considers:

Perhaps fourteen was simply Matthew’s average estimate of the generations from one period in Israel’s history to the next, Matthew preferred a round number for each set of generations, perhaps for ease of memorization (cf. II Maccabees 2:25); some argue that occasional Talmudic lists also edited lists to fourteen elements (Shulamit Valler 1995). But he probably did so especially to imply that, as in the case of the new Elijah of Matthew 3:4, Israel was due for its Messiah to come when Jesus was born (cf. Donald A. Hagner [b. 1936] 1993:7). (Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 74)

Numerous justifications have been given for the use of the number. Some have seen a connection to the cycle of the moon. W. D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) trace:

The cycle of the moon covers twenty-eight days, fourteen of waning, fourteen of waxing. Perhaps, then, the idea behind Matthew 1:2-17 is this: the time between Abraham and David was one of waxing, with David being the climax; next the period after David was one of waning, the captivity being the low point; finally, there followed a time of waxing, the zenith coming with the birth of Jesus. In his Gnomon of the New Testament, Johann Albrecht Bengel [1687-1752] already mentioned this interpretation and ascribed it to...James Rhenford [1653-1712]. In more recent times it has been championed by Chaim Kaplan [1880-1942]. Just such a scheme does, in fact, lie behind Exodus Rabbah on 12.2. There, however, the cycles of the moon, given as 15 + 15 = 30, are explicitly cited. (Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7 (International Critical Commentary), 161-62)

Herbert Basser (b. 1942) expounds:

Just as the lunar cycle has twenty-eight nights (the cycle ends at dusk on the twenty-ninth day), so the night of the fourteenth-fifteen signals the moon at midmonth. We can construe that Matthew’s genealogy rises to the height, or fulness, with David in the fourteenth generation, after which, starting with Solomon, the genealogy descends through fourteen generations to the lowest point, or the darkness of moonless nights, that is the Exile. And fourteen generations after the darkness of the Exile, like the moon in its nightly waxing, the genealogy rises again to the height, or fullness, which is Jesus. According to this scenario, both David and Jesus are at “full moon” positions in a complete fourteen/fifteen generation repeating cycle. (Basser, The Mind Behind the Gospels: A Commentary to Matthew 1-14, 26)

Many have found a connection to the number seven, as 14÷2=7. Seven is found often in the Bible, commonly representing wholeness. Suzanne de Diétrich (1891-1981) communicates fourteen as “the symbol of plenitude of something complete.” (Diétrich, The Layman’s Bible Commentary, 16)

Others have taken the connection with seven a step further and interpreted the genealogy as a period of six weeks with Jesus inaugurating a seventh week, an eschatological Sabbath. N.T. Wright (b. 1948) concedes:

His three periods of fourteen generations may well be intended to hint at six periods of seven generations so that Jesus starts the seventh seven, the climactic moment of the series. (Wright, The New Testament and the People of God, 385)

Others adopting this stance include John P. Meier [b. 1942] 1980: 3-4; Fabrizio Foresti 1984; Herman Hendrickx [1933-2002] 1984, The Infancy Narratives: 23-24 and Ben Witherington III [b. 1951] 2006: 41.

W. D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) explain:

Because seven but not fourteen is a prominent number in the Bible, Matthew’s three fourteens can be regarded as the equivalent of six sevens (3 × 14 = 6 × 7), in which case Jesus would stand at the head of the seventh seven, the seventh day of history, the dawn of the eternal sabbath. A parallel to this could be found in the ‘Apocalypse of Weeks’ (I Enoch 93:1-10; 91:12-17)...Yet it must be said that Matthew expressly writes of three fourteens, not six sevens. (Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7 (International Critical Commentary), 162)

Mervyn Eloff (b. 1957) also expresses incredulity (Eloff, “Exile, Restoration and Matthew’s genealogy,” 84).

George F. Moore (1851-1931) proposes that if one measures a generation as 35 years, Matthew’s fourteen generations would span 490 years (35×14= 490 years) thus duplicating Daniel’s seventy weeks of years (490 years; cf. Daniel 9:24-27). This reckoning has Jesus’ coming corresponding to the fulfillment of prophecy (Moore, “Fourteen Generations – 490 years,” Harvard Theological Review (1921) 97-103). The difficulty with Moore’s theory is that assigning 35 years to a generation is arbitrary.

The most widespread theory regarding the genealogy’s structure is that the number fourteen is affixed to King David. Though Matthew’s genealogy prominently features Abraham (Matthew 1:1, 2, 17), it accentuates Jesus’ connection to David (Matthew 1:1, 6, 17). Before Arabic numerals, letters and consequently words carried a numeric value known as gematia. As Hebrew was scripted with no vowels there are three letters in David’s Hebrew name. August Friedrich Gfrörer (1803-1861) recognized that the sum of these three letters totals fourteen.

David L. Turner (b. 1949) computes:

Matthew has evidently chosen fourteen generations to structure his genealogy because David is the fourtheenth name in the genealogy and fourteen is the numerical value of “David” in Hebrew. Consonantally, דןד (dwd) is 4 (d) + 6 (w) + 4 (d) when the places of the consonants in the numerical order of the Hebrew alphabet are added together. This gematria, which assigns numerical values to letters, stresses the centrality of David in Jesus’s background as well as the centrality of great David’s greater son, Jesus, for Matthew’s readers. (Turner, Matthew (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 58)

Craig A. Evans (b. 1952) acknowledges:

Interpreting the numerical value of the letters that make up a name (called gematria in Hebrew) may strike us today as very strange, but it held significance for the ancients and was practiced by Jewish interpreters of Scripture (e.g. b. Shabbat 70a, in reference to Exodus 35:1) and Greek interpreters of oracles and various traditions. (Evans, Matthew (New Cambridge Bible Commentary), 37)

W. D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) add:

Gematria was practised in both Jewish and Christian circles close to Matthew’s time; and the numerical interpretation of David’s name can account for both the number three and the number fourteen. Still, objections have been raised. First, the use of gematria in Greek documents is customarily accompanied by an explicit statement indicating such. Reference need be made only to Revelation 13:18 and Sibylline Oracles 5.12-51. And even when, as in rabbinic sources, gematria is not explicit, it is only because its presence is unmistakable, as in Numbers Rabbah on 5.18 and 16.1. Secondly, the list of fourteen names in Matthew 1:2-6a was surely traditional and therefore ought not to be regarded as the product of a numerical play on David’s name. (Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7 (International Critical Commentary), 163-64)

Further criticism reminds that the nuance would likely have been lost on Matthew’s original audience. Donald A. Hagner (b. 1936) rejects:

The Book of Matthew, it should be remembered, is written in Greek, and the numerology of the Hebrew name would not be at all evident to Greek readers without explanation. That David’s name in Hebrew is equal to fourteen may well be only a coincidence; in any event, it can hardly be determinative in a Greek text. (Hagner, Matthew 1-13 (Word Biblical Commentary), 7)

The use of gematria is not commonly found in the New Testament. R.T. France (1938-2012) discerns:

Revelation 13:17-18 is the only clear New Testament parallel to this sort of calculation, known as Gematria (but see also Epistle of Barnabas 9:8, a very early Christian work), but it is well attested in Rabbinc circles, and the clear emphasis on David through genealogy suggests it may be in Matthew’s mind. If he did not do it deliberately, he would probably have been delighted to have it pointed out to him! (France, Matthew (Tyndale New Testament Commentaries), 75)

There can be little doubt that a connection to David is being accentuated. David’s name pervades the list. It appears five times, more than any other name and is situated at the beginning, middle, end and (Matthew 1:1, 6, 17 [twice in Matthew 1:6, 17]). David is further emphasized as, despite being featured in a list replete with kings, he is the only character designated as such (Matthew 1:6).

Andreas J. Köstenberger (b. 1957), L. Scott Kellum (b. 1964) and Charles L. Quarles (b. 1965) note:

Although the genealogy of Jesus contained the names of many kings ranging from David to Jechoniah, only David was specifically identified as a king. This implies that Matthew stressed Jesus’ Davidic lineage in order to demonstrate that Jesus was qualified to reign as king. Old Testament prophecies foretold that the Messiah, the eternal King of Gods people, would be a descendent of David. In II Samuel 7:11-16, the prophet Nathan prophesied that God would raise up a descendant of David and establish the throne of his kingdom forever. (Köstenberger, Keller, and Quarles, The Cradle, the Cross, and the Crown: An Introduction to the New Testament, 219)

W. D. Davies (1911-2001) and Dale C. Allison, Jr. (b. 1950) resolve:

We suspect gematria because David’s name has the value of fourteen and because in Matthew 1:2-16 there are 3 × 14 generations. But there is an additional observation to be made. David’s name is fourteenth on the list. This is telling. In a genealogy of 3 × 14 generations, the one name with three consonants and a value of fourteen is also placed in the fourteenth spot. When one adds that this name is mentioned immediately before the genealogy (Matthew 1:1) and twice at its conclusion (Matthew 1:17), and that it is honoured by the title, king, coincidence becomes effectively ruled out. The name, David, is the key to the pattern of Matthew’s genealogy. (Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7 (International Critical Commentary), 165)

The blatant connection to David paints Jesus as the long awaited Davidic Messiah. Rudolf Schnackenburg (1914-2002) deduces:

The point is to establish Jesus’ authentic descent from “King David” (Matthew 1:6), from whose line Nathan promised David that the Messiah would come (II Samuel 7:13-14). This descent is by way of Jesus’ putative father Joseph, of the same line. (Schnackenberg, The Gospel of Matthew, 16)

Douglas R.A. Hare (b. 1929) concurs:

By structuring the Davidic posterity in this way, Matthew announces that Jesus is not just a son of David (as is said of Joseph, Matthew 1:20) but is the long-awaited Messiah, David’s ultimate successor. (Hare, Matthew (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 6)

Part of the human experience is being rooted in a past. Like all of us, Jesus’ destiny is shaped in part by his roots. Matthew’s genealogy stresses that Jesus is the rightful king of Israel.

Why does Matthew’s summary statement enumerate the genealogy differently than its most natural reading (Matthew 1:17)? How important is knowing the Old Testament background to understanding Jesus? Do you attach any significance to the number 14? How would you begin telling the story of Jesus? What does Jesus’ genealogy tell you about him? How far back can you track your family tree? How has your lineage shaped you?

In beginning the gospel with a genealogy, Matthew places Jesus squarely within an historical framework, more specifically Israel’s. J. Andrew Overman (b. 1955) remarks:

Unmistakably, in Matthew Jesus is ensconced within the history of Israel’s divinely driven story. He is Jesus the messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham. These two heroes of Israel’s story are signaled out...as touchstones of the genealogy in Matthew 1:17...By Matthew’s peculiar reckoning, at the birth of Jesus Israel was due another anointed agent. Jesus is in the same family and in the same league with these two great figures and reformers in Israel’s story. This sets a tone for Matthew’s own story about Jesus and sets a series of expectations for the informed reader. (Overman, Church and Community in Crisis: The Gospel According to Matthew, 31)

Matthew’s genealogy not only places Jesus in a specific time and place, it frames history (Matthew 1:1-17). As could only be determined after the fact, Matthew generates neat divisions from otherwise seemingly messy data. Matthew’s gospel is not the first to make this attempt.

Herbert Basser (b. 1942) researches:

Although Matthew does not give explicit meaning to the pattern he develops, attention to Jewish texts helps ascribe some meaning to it. Babylonian Talmud tractate ‘Abodah Zarah 9a also divides Jewish history into three equal periods, though this text focuses on years rather than generations, and it understands history to be 6000 years in duration. (Basser, The Mind Behind the Gospels: A Commentary to Matthew 1-14, 19)

David E. Garland (b. 1947) inserts:

When the biblical historians schematized generations they declared their faith that “history is the sphere in which God works out his purpose” (Helen Milton [1916-1994], “The Structure of the Prologue to Matthew,” JBL 81[1962]: 176). Apocalyptic writers, however, arranged history into epochs to assess the present age and the future (see 2 [Syriac] Apocalypse of Baruch 53-74). The question in 4 Ezra 6:7 is typical of apocalyptic writings: “When will the end of the first age and the beginning of the second age be?” Matthew knows the answer to that question after the fact and fashions the table of genealogy to demonstrate that Jesus inaugurates the new age. At the appointed time (see Galatians 4:4), God has stepped in with the birth of his son. W.D. Davies [1911-2001] concludes: “The genealogy is an impressive witness to Matthew’s conviction that the birth of Jesus was no unpremeditated accident but occurred in the fulness of time and in the providence of God, who overruled the generations to this end, to inaugurate in Jesus a new order, the time of fulfillment” (Setting, 73). The genealogy is not the record of one birth after another. It discloses that God has been working within history to achieve foreordained purposes and that Jesus, the last person of the last epoch, is the fulfillment of God’s plan for Israel and the beginning of the new messianic age. (Garland, Reading Matthew: A Literary and Theological Commentary, 20)

The structure of the genealogy arranges history as a whole. Joel Kennedy (b. 1970) advances:

Matthew 1:17 emphasizes there has been a structural order to the genealogy as well as an order to the history of Israel that it recapitulates...Matthew 1:17 makes explicit the thrust implicit in Matthew 1:2-16. Christ stands dramatically and climactically at the end of Matthew’s teleological genealogy. For Matthew, the order of history through the providence of God has led to this point. Consequently, Matthew 1:17 intends that as one adds up the meaning of Israel’s history, the only appropriate sum will be Jesus Christ. (Kennedy, The Recapitulation of Israel: Use of Israel’s History in Matthew 1:1 - 4:11, 74-75)

Maris McCrabb (b. 1951) reviews Frederick Dale Bruner (b. 1932) characterization of Matthew’s epochs:

The message of the first fourteen on the list is mercy; the message of the second fourteen is justice or judgment; and the message of the final fourteen is faith, especially God’s faith: he promised and he fulfills his promise. “Jesus is the fulfillment of everything the Old Testament is trying to say.” (Matthew: A Commentary, 15). (McCrabb, Reflections on the Gospel of Matthew)

The underlying current of the genealogy is God’s guidance of history. Richard A. Jensen (b. 1934) informs:

The genealogy...lays out Matthew’s view of history...History has a plan. God is in charge of that plan. All of history comes to fruition and fulfillment in the birth of a baby boy. The name of the baby is Jesus. The destiny of history is bound up in this child. (Jensen, Preaching Matthew’s Gospel, 33)

God’s sovereigny is on display. Thomas G. Long (b. 1946) upholds:

The strongest explanation for the pattern of fourteens in the genealogy is that Matthew is following a Jewish literary technique of dividing epochs into equal parts, thereby making the theological claim that history is not haphazard, but under the control of God. Jesus’ appearance in history, Matthew wants us to know, was no mere accident, no random birth. Other human births may be the result of a spin of the biological wheel of fortune, but not Jesus’ birth. It was orderly, arranged, the result of God’s careful plan and providence. What might appear to be the uncontrolled flood of generations can now, in retrospect, be seen for what it truly is—a mighty river whose channel was carved out by the guiding and arranging hand of God, causing all of Israel’s history to flow in orderly fashion toward this critical moment of passion. (Long, Matthew (Westminster Bible Companion), 10)

John P. Meier (b. 1942) concludes:

The basic affirmation of the genealogy is two-fold: (1) Jesus’ origins lie in the old people of God, Israel; and (2) Jesus is the fulfillment of Israel’s history, a history carefully guided by God to its goal. (Meier, Matthew (New Testament Message), 3)

Though to those who had long awaited the Messiah, Jesus’ coming likely seemed delayed, Matthew convinces that Christ arrives at the proper interval. He appears in time to die for all and in doing so, redeems both his ancestors and descendants.

Do you find Matthew’s ordering of history to be contrived? How would you divide the past into epochs? How does Jesus disrupt history? How predetermined do you feel life is? Why was Jesus born at this specific time and place; how did it benefit him, the rest of humanity? When have you waited for something only to have later benefitted from its delay?

“Right time, right place, right people equals success.
Wrong time, wrong place, wrong people equals most of the real human history.”
- Idries Shah (1924-1996), Reflections, p. 82

Jesus: Late Bloomer? (Luke 3:23)

How old was Jesus when he began His public ministry? Thirty years old (Luke 3:23)

Though the first four books of the New Testament are devoted to his biography, Jesus’ age is seldom mentioned in Scripture. With the gospel’s customary interest in chronology (Luke 1:5, 2:1-2, 3:1-2), Luke alone specifies Jesus’ age (Luke 2:42, 3:23). In a preface to Jesus’ genealogy, Luke records that Jesus was about thirty years old when he began his public ministry (Luke 3:23).

When He began His ministry, Jesus Himself was about thirty years of age, being, as was supposed, the son of Joseph, the son of Eli, (Luke 3:23 NASB)

This passage marks one of only two gospel allusions to Jesus’ age as an adult (Luke 3:23; John 8:57). Harold W. Hoehner (1935-2009) compares:

In John 8:57 the Jews said to Jesus, “You are not yet fifty years old.” Irenaeus [130-202] held that Jesus was in His forties, for if Jesus were in His thirties they would have said, “You are not yet forty years old.” George Ogg [b. 1890] takes this chronological note in John 8:57 and doubts that Luke 3:23 can serve any chronological purpose. But certainly the opposite is more likely. Luke 3:23 indicates a precise statement whereas John 8:57 indicates that the Jews were emphasizing Jesus’ youth in contrast to His claim that He existed before Abraham. Therefore, John 8:57 is not helpful in trying to establish the commencement of Christ’s ministry. (Hoehner, Chronological Aspects of the Life of Christ, 43)

The last time that Luke mentions Jesus’ age, he is twelve years old consulting with teachers in the temple (Luke 2:42). Sharon H. Ringe (b. 1946) notes:

Since we were told Jesus’ age when we last heard about him (twelve years old), we now find out how much time has passed. Jesus is a thirty-year-old man, more or less at mid-life, given the life expectancy of that place and time. (Ringe, Luke (Westminster Bible Companion), 56)

Like a movie that moves from depicting a child to the same adult years later, Luke leaves eighteen “missing” years in Jesus’ life. Not surprisingly this gap has generated curiosity. (How many wish that their awkward teen years went undocumented?) It has been assumed that these years are relatively uneventful.

Beth Moore (b. 1957) observes:

Luke 2:42 tells us Jesus was twelve at the recorded visit to the temple. Luke 3:23 says He was thirty at the beginning of His ministry. The Gospel writer supplies only two verses spanning the eighteen years in between. During these years, Christ Jesus went from boy to mature man. Luke 2:52 appears brief and to the point but actually broadens dramatically our concept of Christ. It tells us our Lord “grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men.” (Moore, Jesus, the One and Only, 51)

Little can be said with any certainty regarding Jesus’ formative years. R. Kent Hughes (b. 1942) imagines:

For thirty years the Son had lived in humble circumstances in the seclusion of Nazareth...For thirty years his inner devotional life transcended the understanding and imagination of men...During these silent years the shaping of the second Adam was accomplished. (Hughes, Luke, Volume One: That You May Know the Truth (Preaching the Word), 127)

Though the gospel writers evidently knew nothing worth documenting from these years in Jesus’ life, they were formative and presumably laid the foundation for his later ministry.

Luke is clear that his calculation is an approximation (Luke 3:23). All modern translations include that Jesus is “about” (Greek: hōseí) thirty (ASV, CEV, ESV, HCSB, KJV, MSG, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV, RSV). He may have been several years younger or older (e.g., The Testament of Levi 2:2, 12:5).

Approximation is customary in Luke. Mikeal C. Parsons (b. 1957) recognizes:

Luke often cites numbers less precisely, with an approximating modifier: Jesus was “about thirty years old” when he began his public ministry (Luke 3:23); there were “about five thousand men” present at the feeding in the desert near Bethsaida (Luke 9:14); the number present at the election of Matthias to the circle of Twelve was “about one hundred twenty persons” (Acts 1:15); the number of converts baptized on the day of Pentecost was “about three thousand” (Acts 2:41); the number of John’s disciples encountered by Paul in Acts “altogether...were about twelve” (Acts 19:7). (Parsons, Body and Character in Luke and Acts: The Subversion of Physiognomy in Early Christianity, 90)

Craig S. Keener (b. 1960) explains:

Like a good Greek historian, Luke says “about thirty” (Luke 3:23 rather than stating an estimate as a definite number, as was more common in traditional Jewish historiography. (Keener, The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament, 197-98)

Many have used this time stamp to construct a chronology of Jesus. Robert H. Stein (b. 1935) determines:

If Jesus was born during the reign of Herod (Luke 1:5; Matthew 2:1-19) who died in 4 B.C., and if Jesus was born ca. 6 B.C. and began his ministry ca. 28...Jesus would indeed have been in his early thirties...Luke may simply not have been able to be more specific about Jesus’ age. (Stein, Luke (The New American Commentary), 142)

Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) cautions:

The use of the adverb hōsei indicates that the figure is to be taken as a round number; in the context of chapter 3 it means that Jesus’ thirtieth birthday was not far removed from Tiberius’ fifteen regnal year [Luke 3:1]. But despite Luke’s desire to anchor “events” by reference to Roman and Palestinian history, this indication of Jesus’ age should not be pressed too much in conjunction with Luke 1:5, 2:2 or 3:1, since it is clearly an approximation. Dionysius Exiguus [470-544] pressed it and miscalculated the beginning of the Christian era and we have had to live with it ever since. (Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to Luke I-IX (The Anchor Bible), 499)

John Nolland (b. 1947) concurs:

Luke uses the language of approximation for Jesus’ age. The most that can be suggested is that such an age denotes an adequate measure of maturity (cf. Numbers 4:3). Since we do not know at what stage of John’s ministry Jesus was baptized and began his own independent career, and because the information itself here is imprecise, no firm birth year can be established for Jesus by the juxtaposition of Luke 3:23 and Luke 3:1. (Nolland, Luke 1-9:20 (Word Biblical Commentary), 171)

Much has been made of Jesus inaugurating his public ministry at the age of thirty. Perhaps not coincidentally, thirty was as the age which priests and Levites began their service (Numbers 4:3, 35, 39, 43, 47; I Chronicles 23:3).

Lewis Sperry Chafer (1871-1952) suggests:

Such a detail is not added without meaning, and, when reviewing the Mosaic Law, it is discovered that the male child who would enter the priesthood was not eligible to so until he was thirty years of age (cf. Numbers 4:3), and from the added fact that there was no other public ministry to be entered which prescribed its age limits it is reasonable to conclude that the baptism of Christ had to do with His consecration to the priestly office. (Chafer, Systematic Theology: Vols. 5 & 6, 62)

Jesus begins his public ministry at an age that would have been deemed seemly. Mark L. Strauss (b. 1959) surveys:

Thirty was viewed in both Jewish and Greco-Roman society as an appropriate age to enter public service. At thirty priests began their duties (Numbers 4:3), Joseph entered Pharaoh’s service (Genesis 41:26), and Ezekiel was called to his prophetic ministry (Ezekiel 1:1). Most significantly, David’s reign as king began at the age of thirty (II Samuel 5:4). Jesus, the Davidic Messiah, follows in the steps of his father David. (Strauss, Luke (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 42)

As Strauss alludes, many prominent biblical figures also experience milestones at the age of thirty. David E. Garland (b. 1947) interprets:

Thirty years old marks a “threshold age” in the ancient sources. Joseph was thirty when he entered the service of Pharaoh (Genesis 41:46), and David was thirty years old when he began to reign (II Samuel 5:4). The age signals to the reader that Jesus is now a mature, responsible man ready for his public career. After the extraordinary events surrounding his conception and birth, Jesus had apparently lived for thirty years as an ordinary, anonymous man. Luke has no interest in fantasies of Jesus’ youth that appear in some apocryphal gospels. (Garland, Luke (Zondervan Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 170)

The recurrence of the age of thirty is also prevalent at Qumran. Craig A. Evans (b. 1952) documents:

According to one of the sectarian scrolls from Qumran, when a man “is thirty years old, he may begin to take part in legal disputes” (1QSa 1:13). According to another Scroll, those who may hold the responsibility of preparing the provisions for war “shall be from twenty-five to thirty years old,” in contrast to youths and women, who are not permitted to “enter their encampments” (1QM 7:3). But Qumran’s strictures hardly go beyond the principles of the law itself (cf. Numbers 4:3: “from thirty years and upward, even to fifty years old, who all enter the service to do the work in the tent of meeting”). Luke’s reference to age may therefore mean no more than that Jesus began his age as a mature adult, ready to assume important social and religious responsibilities. (Evans, Matthew-Luke (Bible Knowledge Background Commentary), 45)

David Lyle Jeffrey (b. 1941) adds:

That Jesus was thirty years old at the time of his baptism is not without a natural significance since it is the normative Mediterranean age of majority. (Jeffrey, Luke (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 61)

I. Howard Marshall (b. 1934) finds it fitting that Jesus begins his public ministry at the age of thirty:

When he began his ministry Jesus was the ‘right’ age for his work, just as he could lay claim to the ‘right’ descent...The age of thirty...corresponds with that of David when he began to reign (II Samuel 5:4; cf. Joseph, Genesis 41:46; the sons of Kohath, Numbers 4:3; Ezekiel, Ezekiel 1:1), and hence may suggest that David is here seen as a type of Jesus...Rabbinic tradition gave Jesus an age of 33-34 years (Babylonian Talmud Sanhedrin 106b). (Marshall, The Gospel of Luke (New International Greek Testament Commentary), 162)

William Barclay (1907-1978) identifies three practical advantages to Jesus delaying his public ministry:

(1) It was essential that Jesus should carry out with the utmost fidelity the more limited tasks of family duty before he could take up the universal task of saving the world...(2) It gave him the opportunity to live out his own teaching...(3) If Jesus was to help people he had to know how they lived. (Barclay, The Gospel of Luke (New Daily Study Bible), 47-48)

In addition to Jesus acquiring the requisite life experience to be the Messiah, Jesus is at a respectable age of maturity when he begins his ministry. He is in the prime of his life. Thirty is an optimum age to begin an important task.

Why does Jesus wait until he is thirty to begin his public ministry? Why now; why is the timing right? Should contemporary pastors wait until the age of thirty to begin their ministries? (John the Baptist evidently begins his ministry at an earlier age.) When do you feel that a person reaches maturity? At what age did you start your career? How do you think Jesus occupied his first thirty years? Is Jesus’ public ministry more important than these “missing” years?

John W. Miller (b. 1926) summarizes:

At the beginning of the fourth decade of his life (Luke 3:23), soon after his baptism and temptations, the Gospels tell us, he became a prophet-evangelist with an intense concern for the welfare of a certain group of people: “the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” as they are referred to in Matthew 10:6 and Matthew 15:24. It was at this time, in the midst of this specific evangelistic mission, that he “came into his own,” so to speak. (Miller, Jesus at Thirty: A Psychological and Historical Portrait, 78)

In an age where adults transition frequently, get later starts and struggle to “find themselves”, it is worth remembering that this is another way in which Jesus can relate (Hebrews 4:15). Jesus too might have been considered a “late bloomer”.

What were you doing at age 30? If you have not yet reached this milestone, what do you hope to be doing? Would Jesus’ friends have perceived him as having a mid-life crisis when his public ministry began? (Mid-life Christ-is?) Is it fair to call Jesus a late bloomer? Is it ever too late to begin anew?

“It is never too late to be what you might have been.” - attributed to George Eliot (1819-1880)

As Old As Methuselah (Genesis 5:27)

How old was Methuselah when he died? 969 years old (Genesis 5:27)

The account of the Great Flood (Genesis 6:1-8:22) is preceded by the genealogies of two of Adam’s sons, Cain (Genesis 4:17-24) and Seth (Genesis 5:1-32). The latter genealogy spans 1556 years from birth to birth and serves to bridge the gap between Adam (Genesis 5:1-5) and Noah (Genesis 5:28-32). Though the text never explicitly compares the two families, the biblical story will abandon Cain and follow Seth’s line. W. Sibley Towner (b. 1933) concludes, “By making all subsequent descendants not of Cain but of Seth, the Priestly writers free us from the onus of Cain’s fratricide and his mark (Towner, Genesis (Westminster Bible Companion), 73).”

Despite there being virtually no narrative included in the genealogy of Seth (with the possible exception of Enoch in Genesis 5:21-24), it has long intrigued readers due to the long life cycles involved. The average life span of the genealogy’s ten antediluvians (people who lived prior to the Flood) is 857.5 years; 912.2 if you eliminate the outlier (Genesis 5:21-24) and limit the data to those who died of natural causes. Adam was still alive to meet Noah’s father, Lamech, eight generations later. Methuselah represents the apex of longevity, living a whopping 969 years (Genesis 5:27)!

So all the days of Methuselah were nine hundred and sixty-nine years, and he died. (Genesis 5:27 NASB)

Though today Methuselah is synonymous with agedness, he does not stand out amidst his family. No note is made of his age being exceptional and he eclipsed his grandfather, Jared, the second oldest man ever, by a mere seven years (Genesis 5:20). Almost everyone from his gene pool lived the better part of a millennia.

With the exception of fathering and naming his son (Lamech) no word or deed of Methuselah is recorded (Genesis 5:21-27). His name appears seven times in the Bible, always in genealogies (Genesis 5:21, 22, 25, 26, 27; I Chronicles 1:3; Luke 3:37). Perhaps because he did nothing else, Methuselah became the icon of the period’s longevity.

There is some debate as to the etymology of the name “Methuselah”. The name’s meaning is most commonly rendered “man of the dart (or spear)”. David Lyle Jeffrey (b. 1941) writes:

The meaning of the Hebrew name has been interpreted variously as “a man of the javelin,” “a man of Selah or Sin (the god of Ur Casdim),” or as a corruption of the Bab. Mutu-sa-ili into Mutu-sa-ilati, meaning “husband of the goddess.” (Jeffrey, A Dictionary of Biblical Tradition in English Literature, 503)

Kenneth A. Mathews (b. 1950) dissects:

The name “Methuselah” is a combination of mětû, “man of,” and šelah, “Shelah.” The former is related to West Semitic mutu (“person, man, husband”), but “Shelah” is uncertain. Shelah also occurs in Genesis 10:24 and Genesis 11:12-15. “Shelah” is taken either as a weapon (“man of the weapon,” cf. Nehemiah 4:17), a place name, or deity. (Mathews, The New American Commentary: Genesis 1- 11:26, 315-16)

An ominous alternate reading is less likely, but far more interesting. Some conjecture that the first word of the compound “Methuselah” is not math (“male, man”) but rather is derived from muwth (“to die, kill, have one executed”) and depending upon the uncertain vowel pointing, could read “his death”. The second component, shelach (“weapon, missile, sprout”), is the noun form of the verb shalach, meaning “to send, send away, let go, stretch out”. As such, some speculate that “Methuselah” is actually the incomplete sentence “His death shall bring” or “When he dies, it shall come”. The genealogy does attest that Methuselah’s death corresponded to the year of the Flood (Genesis 7:1-24). If this reading is correct, Methuselah’s name and life were a testament to God’s grace as the deity allowed humanity the longest possible time to repent before sending the deluge.

Though none of his oracles are recorded in the Old Testament, Methuselah’s father, Enoch, is said to be a prophet (Genesis 5:21-24, Jude 1:14-15). Many have seen his son’s name as Enoch’s one documented Old Testament prophecy - Methuselah’s death would mark the end of an era.

John Phillips (b. 1927) is representative of this opinion when he writes:

His father, Enoch, embedded one of his prophecies in Methuselah’s name: “When he dies, it shall come.” throughout all of Methuselah’s long life, conditions on earth went from bad to worse; but still God held His hand for He is of great patience, “not willing that any should perish” (II Peter 3:9). The antediluvians took God’s inaction as proof either of His non-existence or indifference. (Phillips, Exploring Genesis: An Expository Commentary, 78)

What cannot be denied is that when Methuselah died, the Flood came. There is a week long delay before the Flood that has been interpreted as a mourning period for Methuselah (Genesis 7:10). R. Kent Hughes (b. 1942) informs, “The seven-day pause recorded in Genesis 7:10 was, according to the Jewish midrash, a period of mourning for the death of Methuselah who died in the year of the flood (Hughes, Genesis: Beginning and Blessing (Preaching the Word), 138).”

Are the genealogies of Cain and Seth intended to be compared and contrasted? Do you think Methuselah’s goal was to live to be 1000? How would Willard Scott (b. 1934) have acknowledged Methuselah? What would it be like to endure the better part a millennia? What would the ramifications be if people still lived as long as the antediluvians? Do you read the ages literally?

Many explanations have been given to account for the long life spans of the antedivluvians, most reducing them to correspond to more modern spans. Many read almost like theories on dog years, which for the record Methuselah lived 3889.

John H. Walton (b. 1952) summarizes:

Have the numbers been misrepresented or misunderstood? Are they symbolic? Did the antediluvians simply live longer? There have been many attempts to account for the numbers through mathematical gymnastics, but none of the proposals has been able to provide a solution that encompasses all of the data. It is impossible to understand the numbers in terms of something other than base ten, both because base ten is the norm for Semitic civilizations (except Sumerian-based Akkadian) as far back as records are available, and because any other system results in men fathering children at the age of six or seven years old. The latter consequence also makes it impossible that a “year” represents a cycle of the moon rather than a cycle of the sun...Those who are more inclined to take them as symbolic must provide an explanation of how the numbers are operating on the symbolic level and how genealogies were understood by the biblical authors that allow us to consider a symbolic view as representing the face value of the text. (Walton, Genesis (The NIV Application Commentary), 282-83)

One thing is certain: something happened which considerably reduced life expectancy. Martin Kessler (b. 1927) and Karel Deurloo (b. 1936) interpret God’s words before the Flood as capping human life spans at 120 years (Genesis 6:2):

The giver of life (cf. Genesis 3:22) will not leave his spirit forever in humanity. His days will be no more than 120 years (the age of Moses, Deuteronomy 34:7). Methuselah would keep his record of longevity (969 years). The long lifespans of the early ancestors—a minimized version of ancient Oriental examples—are chosen so that “Methuselah” also, who appears to send death away, died before the flood. (Kessler & Deurloo, A Commentary on Genesis: The Book of Beginnings, 77)

This interpretation is problematic in that some have lived past 120. In the Bible, Ishmael (137 years, Genesis 25:17), Isaac (180, Genesis 35:28) and Aaron (123, Numbers 33:39) exceeded 120 years long after the Flood. Believe it or not the number has even been surpassed in modern times. The longest unambiguously documented human lifespan is that of Jeanne Calment of France (1875–1997), who died at age 122 years, 164 days. It is worth noting that almost all of the people who have had extremely long lifespans in the post-Biblical era are women.

Thomas L. Brodie (b. 1940) identifies another turning point:

The generations that follow Shem dwindle. There are essentially only nine (nine begettings), not the standard ten (as in Genesis 5:1-32) and the numbers fall: 500, 403, 403, 430, 209 (Peleg), 207, 200, 119. In the Adam-Noah genealogy (Genesis 5:1-32) there was no such steady decline. Methuselah, with 969 years, was near the end. The overall impression of a generating process which, whatever its original energy, is now falling. (Brodie, Genesis As Dialogue: A Literary, Historical, and Theological Commentary, 204)

Miguel A. De La Torre (b. 1958) concludes:

Human life, which had in the pre-deluge years reached 969 years (in the case of Methuselah, Genesis 5:27) was curtailed to only 120 years (further reduced post-deluge to “seventy years, or perhaps eighty,” Psalm 90:10), thus connecting longevity with the eventual falling away from godliness. (De La Torre, Genesis: Belief: a Theological Commentary on the Bible,107)

The only Psalm of Moses (Psalm 90), to which De La Torre alludes, discusses life expectation:

As for the days of our life, they contain seventy years,
Or if due to strength, eighty years,
Yet their pride is but labor and sorrow;
For soon it is gone and we fly away. (Psalm 90:10 NASB)

Why do you think life expectancy was said to have reduced so dramatically? Who is the oldest person you know or have known? When is a person old? When, if ever, do you think Methuselah considered himself old? How long do you want to live? With technological advances, how long can we live?

“A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams.” - John Barrymore (1882-1942)