Paul turns to the collection for the struggling believers in Jerusalem and calls the Corinthians to finish what they started (vv. 1–6; cf. 1 Corinthians 16:1–4). He first points to the churches in Macedonia as an example: even in “severe test of affliction” and “extreme poverty,” they overflowed in rich generosity because God’s grace was at work in them (vv. 1–2). They gave “according to their means” and even “beyond their means,” entirely of their own accord, begging for the privilege of sharing in this ministry to the saints (vv. 3–4). Before they gave their money, they first gave themselves to the Lord and then to Paul and his team, showing that generous giving flows out of a heart fully surrendered to God (v. 5).
Paul urges the Corinthians—who already excel in faith, speech, knowledge, earnestness, and love—to also excel in this grace of giving (v. 7). He doesn’t command them but tests the sincerity of their love, grounding everything in the grace of Jesus: though He was rich, yet for our sake He became poor, so that by His poverty we might become rich in salvation and every spiritual blessing (vv. 8–9). Since they were eager to begin this collection a year ago, Paul now urges them to finish it, giving willingly according to what they have, not what they do not have (vv. 10–12). His goal is not to burden them, but that there would be a fair sharing—those who have more now can supply the needs of others, just as God supplied manna so that no one had too much and no one too little (vv. 13–15; cf. Exodus 16:18). Finally, Paul commends Titus and the other trusted brothers who will help carry the gift; everything is arranged in a way that honors the Lord and avoids any hint of mishandling, because they “aim at what is honorable not only in the Lord’s sight but also in the sight of man” (vv. 16–23, 21).
🌀 Reflection: When you think about generosity, do you mainly think in terms of extra money—or in terms of grace? Paul shows that real giving starts when we “first” give ourselves to the Lord (v. 5). The Macedonians gave joyfully in hard times because they were captured by Christ’s grace, and Paul wants the Corinthians (and us) to see that our giving is one way we reflect the self-giving heart of Jesus (vv. 2–4, 9). Ask the Lord to show you where your heart might be holding back—whether in money, time, or attention—and to make your generosity an overflow of joy in what Christ has already given you.
💬 Mission Challenge: Identify one concrete way this week to share your resources with a believer in need or with gospel ministry—then do it intentionally, “according to what you have,” and as an act of worship, not pressure (vv. 11–12).
Paul begins by calling believers to respond to God’s promises with holiness: since God has said He will dwell with His people and be their Father, they must cleanse themselves from every defilement of body and spirit, bringing holiness to completion in the fear of God (v. 1; cf. 6:16–18). He then urges the Corinthians again to “make room” in their hearts for him, reminding them that he has not wronged, corrupted, or taken advantage of anyone (vv. 2–3). Even in all his troubles and fears, Paul says he has great boldness and overflowing joy because of what God is doing in them (vv. 4–5).
Paul describes how deeply discouraged he was when he came to Macedonia—“fighting without and fear within”—until God comforted him through the arrival of Titus and the good report Titus brought (vv. 5–6). Paul had sent a severe letter that grieved them, and for a while he wondered if he had been too harsh (v. 8). But Titus reported that their sorrow led to real repentance, a change that showed they truly belonged to the Lord and still loved Paul (vv. 7–9). Paul explains the difference between godly grief, which produces repentance that leads to salvation without regret, and worldly grief, which leads to death (v. 10). Their godly grief showed up in eagerness, indignation over sin, fear of God, longing, zeal, and a desire for justice (vv. 11–12). Because of this, Paul is deeply comforted and rejoices; he is glad he boasted to Titus about them, and now he can say with confidence, “I rejoice, because I have complete confidence in you” (vv. 13–16).
🌀 Reflection: Think about how you respond when God confronts your sin—through Scripture, a sermon, or even a hard conversation with a friend. Do you tend to feel embarrassed because you got caught (worldly grief), or broken over how your sin grieves God and harms others (godly grief) (vv. 9–10)? Ask the Lord to use sorrow over sin to draw you nearer to Him, producing eagerness, reverence, and renewed obedience rather than shame and retreat (v. 11).
💬 Mission Challenge: If someone in your life has spoken hard truth to you for your spiritual good, reach out to them this week. Thank them for caring enough to confront you, and encourage them with how God has used that “godly grief” to grow repentance and holiness in your life (vv. 8–9, 13).
Paul pleads with the Corinthians not to receive God’s grace “in vain,” reminding them that now is the favorable time and now is the day of salvation (vv. 1–2). As a minister of reconciliation, he works hard to give no obstacle to the gospel, commending himself not by comfort or success but by patient endurance through afflictions, hardships, beatings, imprisonments, and sleepless nights (vv. 3–5). At the same time, his life is marked by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, the Holy Spirit, sincere love, truthful speech, and the power of God (vv. 6–7). He holds together sorrow and joy, poverty and spiritual riches, being treated as nothing and yet known and loved by God (vv. 8–10). All of this is Paul saying, “You can trust my heart and my message—I am suffering for your good.”
Because of this, Paul tells them that his heart is wide open toward them and urges them to “widen” their hearts in return (vv. 11–13). Then he calls them to holy separation: they must not be unequally yoked with unbelievers in ways that compromise their loyalty to Christ, because righteousness and lawlessness, light and darkness, Christ and Belial, God’s temple and idols simply do not belong together (vv. 14–16). Paul reminds them that they are the temple of the living God, and God Himself has promised to dwell among them, walk with them, receive them, and be a Father to them, making them His sons and daughters (vv. 16–18). The grace that saves also calls God’s people to live distinctly for Him in the middle of a watching world.
🌀 Reflection: Are there places in your life where you might be “receiving the grace of God in vain” (v. 1)—enjoying gospel words but resisting gospel change? Ask the Lord to show you where your heart needs to “widen” toward Him and His people (vv. 11–13), and where you may need to come out from unhealthy, spiritually shaping influences so you can live more clearly as His beloved son or daughter (vv. 16–18).
💬 Mission Challenge: Examine one close relationship, habit, or partnership this week and honestly ask: “Is this helping me follow Jesus, or pulling me away?” If it’s pulling you away, take one concrete step—have a hard conversation, set a boundary, or make a change—so that your life more clearly reflects that you are God’s temple.
Paul looks honestly at life, death, and eternity. Our bodies are like fragile “tents” that will one day be taken down, but believers have the sure promise of a permanent, resurrection “building from God” that is eternal and secure (vv. 1–4). Because God has given us the Spirit as a guarantee, we can be confident—even as we groan in weakness now—that to be away from the body is to be at home with the Lord (vv. 5–8). This future hope shapes our present purpose: whether we are here or with Him, our aim is to please Christ, knowing that we will all appear before His judgment seat to receive what is due for what we have done, whether good or evil (vv. 9–10).
This leads straight into Paul’s description of the gospel and our mission. The “fear of the Lord” and the love of Christ together drive him to serve and persuade others (vv. 11, 14). Because Christ died and was raised, those who belong to Him no longer live for themselves but for Him (vv. 14–15). In Christ, we are a new creation—the old has passed away and the new has come (v. 17). God has reconciled us to Himself through Christ and entrusted to us the ministry and message of reconciliation, so that we now serve as ambassadors for Christ, pleading with the world: “Be reconciled to God” (vv. 18–20). At the heart of this message is the staggering truth that God made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God (v. 21).
🌀 Reflection: Where do you feel the “groaning” of life in your earthly tent right now (vv. 2–4)? Bring that place honestly to Jesus, and ask Him to help you live today with two things in view: the aim of pleasing Him (v. 9) and the privilege of representing Him as His reconciled, new-creation ambassador (vv. 17–20).
💬 Mission Challenge: Initiate one gospel-shaped conversation this week—share with someone (briefly and in your own words) what it means that God is reconciling sinners to Himself through Christ, and use 2 Corinthians 5:21 as the verse that anchors what you say.
Paul explains why he does not lose heart in ministry: God has given him the mercy of serving the new covenant, so he refuses to twist or dilute God’s Word to please people, but sets the truth out plainly before God and others (vv. 1–2). If the gospel seems “veiled,” it is because unbelievers are blinded by “the god of this world” and cannot see “the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God” (vv. 3–4). Paul doesn’t preach himself, but “Jesus Christ as Lord,” and himself as the Corinthians’ servant for Jesus’ sake (v. 5). The same God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in believers’ hearts to give “the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (v. 6).
This glorious gospel is a treasure carried in “jars of clay”—weak, ordinary people—so that it is clear the power belongs to God and not to us (v. 7). Paul is “afflicted … but not crushed,” “perplexed, but not driven to despair,” continually carrying in his body the death of Jesus so that Jesus’ life may also be seen in him (vv. 8–11). He believes and therefore speaks, knowing that the God who raised Jesus will also raise him and present him with the Corinthians (vv. 13–14). So he still does not lose heart: even though his “outer self” is wasting away, his “inner self” is being renewed every day (v. 16). Present troubles are “light” and “momentary” compared to the “eternal weight of glory” God is preparing, so believers fix their eyes not on what is seen and temporary, but on what is unseen and eternal (vv. 17–18).
🌀 Reflection: Where do you most feel like a “jar of clay” right now—fragile, tired, or limited (vv. 7–9, 16)? Instead of seeing those weaknesses as proof that God is far away, ask Him to help you see them as places where His resurrection power can shine through, teaching you to look beyond what is seen today to the unseen glory He is preparing (vv. 14, 17–18).
💬 Mission Challenge: Share a brief word of hope with someone who is discouraged—maybe a text, call, or quick conversation—reminding them that present troubles are “momentary” compared to the eternal glory in Christ, and include 2 Corinthians 4:16–18 to point them to what is unseen and lasting.
Paul pushes back against the idea that he needs letters of recommendation by pointing to the Corinthians themselves—their changed lives are his “letter,” written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God on human hearts (vv. 1–3). His confidence in ministry doesn’t come from his own ability but from God, who has made him a minister of the new covenant, “not of the letter but of the Spirit. For the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life” (vv. 4–6). The old covenant, written on stone, was a real “ministry of death” and “condemnation” because it showed God’s holy standard without giving the power to obey, yet even it came with glory on Moses’ shining face (vv. 7–9). If that fading glory was real, Paul says, how much greater is the glory of the new covenant, which brings righteousness and is permanent (vv. 9–11).
Because this new covenant is so glorious, Paul speaks with boldness, not like Moses, who put a veil over his face so Israel wouldn’t see that the glory was fading (vv. 12–13). To this day, many in Israel still read Moses with a “veil” over their hearts, unable to see how the law points to Christ—but when one turns to the Lord, that veil is removed (vv. 14–16). Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom—freedom from condemnation, from a hard heart, and from trying to earn righteousness by the law (v. 17). Now all believers, with unveiled faces, behold the glory of the Lord and are being transformed into His image “from one degree of glory to another” by the Spirit (v. 18). The Christian life is not self-improvement; it is the Spirit slowly making us look more like Jesus as we keep looking to Him.
🌀 Reflection: Are you living like someone who still has a veil over your heart—trying to be “good enough” by your own effort—or like someone set free by the Spirit to trust Christ and be changed from the inside out (vv. 6, 14–18)? Bring your failures and self-reliance to the Lord today and ask Him to help you behold His glory in Christ, trusting the Spirit to do the slow, deep work of transformation.
💬 Mission Challenge: Encourage a fellow believer who is discouraged about their growth. Remind them that transformation is a process—“from one degree of glory to another”—and share 2 Corinthians 3:18 with them, pointing them back to Jesus and the Spirit’s ongoing work.
Paul explains why he chose not to make another painful visit to Corinth—he didn’t want to come only to cause them sorrow again, but wanted his next visit to be marked by mutual joy (vv. 1–3). Instead, he wrote a “severe” letter with many tears, not to crush them, but to show how deeply he loved them and to call them to repentance (v. 4, 7:8–9). True love sometimes wounds in order to heal, and Paul wants them to see even his hard words as an expression of Christlike care.
He then turns to the man who had caused grief in the church and likely opposed Paul publicly (vv. 5–6). Discipline from “the majority” had done its work; now it was time to forgive, comfort, and reaffirm love so that the brother would not be swallowed up by excessive sorrow (vv. 7–8). Paul reminds them that refusing to forgive gives Satan an opportunity to divide and devour the church (vv. 10–11). From there, Paul describes how even in his anxiety in Troas over not finding Titus, God still leads him in “triumphal procession” in Christ and uses him to spread “the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere” (vv. 12–14). The gospel is like an aroma—life to those who receive it and death to those who reject it (vv. 15–16). Knowing how weighty this is, Paul insists he is no peddler of God’s word, but speaks with sincerity, “as commissioned by God, in the sight of God in Christ” (v. 17).
🌀 Reflection: Where have you been more ready to punish than to restore? Ask the Lord to show you if there’s someone you’re holding at a distance even though they’ve repented. God comforted you in your sin and sorrow; His grace now calls you to reflect that same forgiving, restoring heart to others (vv. 6–8)
💬 Mission Challenge: Extend concrete grace this week. Reach out to someone who has failed or who feels on the outside—send a text, make a call, or have a face-to-face conversation that communicates forgiveness, comfort, and renewed love in Christ (vv. 7–8, 10–11).
Paul opens this letter by praising “the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort” (v. 3). He explains that God meets him in his sufferings so that he can then comfort others with the same comfort he has received (vv. 4–5). Paul’s hardships are not a sign that God has abandoned him; instead, they become a channel of grace for the church. As he suffers for Christ and is comforted by Christ, the Corinthians share both in the sufferings and in the comfort, and their endurance is strengthened (vv. 6–7).
Paul then tells them about a severe trial he faced in Asia, where he was “so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself” (v. 8). God allowed him to feel like he had received a “sentence of death” so that he would not rely on himself but on “God who raises the dead” (v. 9). God delivered him, and Paul is confident He will continue to deliver, especially as the Corinthians help through their prayers (vv. 10–11). From there, Paul begins to defend his integrity: his conscience is clear that he has behaved toward them with holiness and sincerity from God, not with worldly wisdom (vv. 12–14). His change of travel plans was not because he is fickle, but because he wanted to spare them and act in line with God’s faithfulness (vv. 15–18).
To anchor this, Paul reminds them that all of God’s promises are “Yes” in Jesus (vv. 19–20). God is the One who establishes them in Christ, has anointed them, has put His seal on them, and has given His Spirit in their hearts as a guarantee of what is to come (vv. 21–22). That means their future with Him is secure, even when circumstances are hard. Finally, Paul calls God as his witness that he delayed his visit “to spare you,” because he does not want to lord it over their faith but to work with them for their joy, since they stand firm by faith (vv. 23–24). This is the heart of a true pastor: willing to suffer, eager to be misunderstood if needed, so that Christ’s people might be comforted, strengthened, and helped to stand.
🌀 Reflection: Where have you felt “burdened beyond your strength” lately (v. 8)? Bring that specific place of weakness to the Lord and ask Him to use it to loosen your grip on self-reliance and deepen your trust in “God who raises the dead” (v. 9). Then ask Him to show you one way He might use your story of His comfort to encourage someone else who is hurting.
💬 Mission Challenge: Reach out today to someone you know who is walking through a hard season. Let them know you are praying for them, share a verse from this chapter (such as vv. 3–4 or 10), and ask how you can keep praying specifically—be a living channel of the comfort you have received.
1:1 The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham. 2 Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers, 3 and Judah the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar, and Perez the father of Hezron, and Hezron the father of Ram, 4 and Ram the father of Amminadab, and Amminadab the father of Nahshon, and Nahshon the father of Salmon, 5 and Salmon the father of Boaz by Rahab, and Boaz the father of Obed by Ruth, and Obed the father of Jesse, 6 and Jesse the father of David the king. And David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah…. 16 …and Jacob the father of Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born, who is called Christ. [1]
Matthew 1:1-6, 16
Merry Christmas, Sojourners!
This is one of my favorite times of the year. The weather is crisp and cool (or cold, depending on the Mississippi weather). Lights and decorations abound. There’s more than enough to do – following our kiddos around, gathering for extra worship times, a few opportunities to pause and reflect on a year spent, and finding that people are more willing to listen or even talk about Jesus than in other seasons.
Over the past few years at Christ Community, I’ve begun to think of this more in terms of Advent than just the Christmas season – not out of some sense of religious tradition or necessity but out of a sense of expectation and hope. The word Advent comes from the Latin word adventus, meaning “coming” or “arrival”. It, of course, represents Jesus’s first coming (hence the Christmas aspect) and His arrival as God made flesh and dwelling among us (John 1:1, 14), but it also reminds us that He is coming again and that arrival in the clouds is on the horizon (1 Thessalonians 4:16-17), maybe even in our lifetime. Advent trains our hearts to wait with hope (Romans 8:23-25, Titus 2:11-13).
Now, this isn’t the sort of hope that we’re used to – some sort of vague wish that we want to come about. That sort of hope leads to disappointment and anxiety. For example, I hear my school kiddos say things like, “I hope I do good on this test.” While there’s a certain anxiety that all too often accompanies the tests, the hope can be more sure than wishful thinking. I remind my students in those moments of all they’ve studied and all they’ve learned. My class is the culmination of all of the English classes they have taken since third grade. Getting to my class means they’ve successfully made it from third grade all the way to ninth or tenth grade. Most of my tenth grade students had me for ninth, so I can remind them also of what they’ve learned, studied, and succeeded at in order to get to the end of the class. Their anxiety flowed from feelings of inadequacy and felt thin because it had nothing solid beneath it.
Biblical hope is different. It isn’t rooted in our effort, our performance, or our feelings. It has substance. It is established on something solid – the promises of God (2 Corinthians 1:20).
The hope Jesus offers – the hope we are reminded of through Advent leading up to Christmas – is based in a more substantial substance than our mere life experience and accomplishments; it’s based out of Jesus’s life and His accomplishments on the cross and through the empty tomb. We can “hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering” because “He who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23). He has a flawless record of keeping His promises – promises no human could make and see fulfilled much less fulfill them alone (see “Appendix: OT Messianic Prophecies Fulfilled Through JESUS in the Gospels”). And we can find hope in His faithfulness because He is the One who promised to come and did (Galatians 4:4-5), so when He promises to return, we can rest in the hope that He will (Revelation 22:12, 20).
Hopefully you took the time to look at the OT Messianic Prophecies Fulfilled Through JESUS in the Gospels appendix, taking a look at the fifty-five examples offered there. Today, though, we’re going to find hope not only in prophecy but in how God worked in the real, messy lives of real, sinful people. We will see that He who promised to redeem and save those who call on Him – confess Him as Lord and believe He raised from the dead (Romans 10:9, 13) – is faithful to do that. Their stories show that the God who speaks His promises is the God who brings those promises to fruition through ordinary sinners like us (1 Corinthians 1:26-31).
So, where do we find these people? We find them – these four women – in Jesus’s genealogy in Matthew 1.
Before we look at any of their stories, it’s worth noting something remarkable: women weren’t usually included in genealogies in the ancient world. Genealogies traced the line through the fathers, generation to generation, name to name. Yet Matthew, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, intentionally highlights four women – and not women we might expect. Their stories are messy. Their pasts are complicated. Their situations were soaked in sin, sorrow, scandal, and suffering. And still the Holy Spirit saw fit to weave their names into the family line of Jesus. Why? Because the gospel isn’t a story for the polished but for the broken (Mark 2:17). Their presence in Jesus’s genealogy serves as the Spirit’s way of holding up the gift of hope – hope that God’s grace reaches further than our failures, hope that His mercy is deeper than our mess, and hope that the promised King truly came to save sinners (1 Timothy 1:15).
These women point us forward to the One who would come from their line – Jesus the Christ, Emmanuel, “God with us” (Matthew 1:23) – the Savior who brings hope to people just like them…and just like us.
Tamar – Hope in God’s Faithfulness Despite Human Sin (v. 3, Genesis 38)
The first woman is Tamar (v. 3), and her story is found in Genesis 38.
Tamar was Judah’s – as in lion of the tribe of Judah (Genesis 49:8-10), the original – daughter-in-law. She was originally married to Judah’s oldest son Er until “the Lord put him to death” because Er was “wicked in the sight of the Lord” (Genesis 38:7). In those days[2], when the elder son died, it was the role of his younger brother to take his place and father children in his name. This fell to second-born, Onan, but Onan was more sinful and selfish than his big brother, doing what was “wicked in the sight of the Lord” and being “put…to death, also” (Genesis 38:10).
Poor Tamar. Her only hope at bearing children would fall on Judah’s youngest, and last remaining son, Shelah. But Judah lied and had no intention of taking care of or continuing with Tamar. What did she do? She decided to be wicked herself. She tricked Judah and tempted him. How did he respond? He decided to be wicked himself. Judah and Tamar committed sin together, her posing as a prostitute and him partaking in sin with her – honestly sinning against her similarly to his late-son Onan.
Scripture doesn’t hide this, and because of that, we begin to see hope shining through the darkness.
Paul reminds us that “where sin increased, grace abounded all the more” (Romans 5:20), and Tamar’s story is living proof of that. Despite Judah’s sin, despite Tamar’s sin, despite a situation that looked like a generational dead end, God preserved the family line through which the Messiah would come (Genesis 38:27-30). And when faced with evidence of his sin, Judah himself would later confess that Tamar was “more righteous” than him (Genesis 38:26), not because she was righteous in herself, but because God used a broken situation to move His promise and purpose forward.
Tamar’s presence in Jesus’s genealogy shows us that the promised King comes through broken, sinful people to give hope to broken, sinful people.
Rahab – Hope for Outsiders, Sinners, and the Unlikely (v. 5; Joshua 2, 6:17, 22-25)
Rahab wasn’t an Israelite, so she wasn’t one of God’s chosen people ethnically, and before the Hebrew spies came to her house in Jericho, she was known for her sinful profession as a prostitute, except unlike Tamar, she was not merely posing as one. Yet she exhibited faith in the God of Israel because she had heard of the mighty work He had done with and for His people (Joshua 2:9-11). She chose to side with God’s people rather than her own and hid the Hebrews spies to keep them safe.
And this is what Scripture emphasizes – not the sinfulness of her past but the sincerity of her faith. We see in the book of Hebrews that “by faith Rahab the prostitute did not perish” (Hebrews 11:31), and James says her works proved her faith (James 2:25). Despite her people[3], her background, and her own history, God rescued her by letting her put a scarlet cord in her window to mark her safe when Jericho fell under His judgment (Joshua 2:18-21).
Why a scarlet cord? Some scholarly preacher folks see in it the foreshadowing of the blood of Jesus – God marking the saved safe through a covering only He can provide. For Rahab, it just represented the promise of the mighty God she had begun serving.
What about the fact that she was a prostitute? Why would someone like her be included in Jesus’s official lineage – in the Bible no less? Because Jesus came to save sinners, outsiders, and the unlikeliest of folks – people like Rahab, people like me and you (Luke 5:31-32). Her inclusion in Jesus’s family tree declares that the hope of the promised King is for all nations and all sinners who take refuge in Him (Psalm 2:12).
Ruth – Hope for the Hopeless and the Gentile (v. 5; the book of Ruth)
The third woman is actually related to Rahab by marriage as she ended up marrying Rahab’s son Boaz. Her name is Ruth (v. 5), and her story is told in the book of the Bible bearing her name.
Like her mother-in-law, Ruth wasn’t one of God’s chosen people. She was from the land of Moab (a people group started out of a sinful union and messy situation way back in Genesis 19:30-37). Her husband Mahlon came to Moab with his family while trying to escape the Lord’s judgment through a famine, seeking help and relief from their own strength and ingenuity rather than from the Lord (Ruth 1:1-2).
While they were in Moab, her father-in-law, husband, and brother-in-law all died. She could have gone back to her father’s house and been right and righteous in doing so, but she decided to accompany her mother-in-law Naomi back to Israel (Ruth 1:16-17). God blessed that decision and relationship and took care of Ruth and Naomi. Part of the way God took care of them was through Rahab’s son Boaz, first providing food and grain for them and ultimately through him taking on the role of kinsman-redeemer[4], marrying Ruth.
This is the beauty of Ruth’s story because providing a redeemer for them was more than just a husband; being called a kinsman-redeemer (Ruth 2:20, 3:9, 4:14-15) is a picture pointing forward to Jesus Himself. Ruth, the foreigner and outsider, the one with no earthly hope, found refuge “under the wings of the Lord” (Ruth 2:12). Her story that began with such sorrow and grief had a happy ending, especially considering Ruth would be King David’s great-grandmother (Ruth 4:17), but doesn’t Jesus deserve a more presentable bloodline?
No, God delighted in bringing hope out of hopelessness and writing His redemption story through those the world would overlook so that those who are overlooked could find hope in Him (1 Corinthians 1:27-29). Ruth’s inclusion in Jesus’s lineage shows that the Messiah is the Redeemer of all who take refuge in Him.
“The Wife of Uriah” – Hope through God’s Mercy to the Deeply Fallen (v. 6, 2 Samuel 11-12)
The fourth woman isn’t even listed in the genealogy by her name, but how she is listed tells the sadness and sin surrounding her: “And David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah” (v. 6). This is not a slight to her but recognition of King David’s sin with her. Yes, David, the king who is most often heralded as a hero and worshiper of the Lord is also a sinner.
The man who slew Goliath and wrote a big chunk of the Bible’s songbook committed particularly heinous sins: murder and adultery (2 Samuel 11:1-5). David stayed behind when he was supposed to be with his troops and gazed upon the “wife of Uriah” from his roof as she took a bath. He, even though he was married to multiple women already and she was married to one of his mighty men, decided that he wanted to make her his. The resulting union led to a child between them. Rather than owning up and confessing his sin – to the Lord, to his wives, to Uriah, to Israel, David undertook a massive cover-up that ended in his arranging Uriah’s murder (2 Samuel 11:14-17). He stole this man’s wife. He took his life.
It looks good to have a giant-killing worshiper of the Lord in your lineage, but why associate Jesus instead with David’s sin and wickedness (and the same or worse from many of the kings listed after him in the family tree)? Because this gets to the very heart of the gospel.
Bathsheba’s story contains much sin and sorrow, but it doesn’t end that way. God confronted David through the prophet Nathan (2 Samuel 12:1-3). Their baby died (2 Samuel 12:15-18). David repented (Psalm 51). And God, in astonishing mercy, allowed David and Bathsheba to become the parents of another child, Solomon – the next link in the chain leading to Christ (2 Samuel 12:24-25).
Where sin is great, God’s grace is greater still (Romans 5:20). Bathsheba – the wife of Uriah – being included in this genealogy reminds us that the promised King didn’t come to hide human sin but to seek and save sinners (Luke 19:10).
Wrapping Up
Each section walking us through these women’s stories included rhetorical questions meant to make us meditate on what God was doing in and through them: why include these women and take honest looks at their stories?
In short, there really are answers to those questions. Why would the Bible recognize and record those sins and sinners in Jesus’s lineage? Why would the Holy Spirit shine a spotlight on the stories of Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba? Because they all really happened. Sin happens. Every one of them was a real person with a real story marked by real brokenness. And the truth is that all people “have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). None of us – not a single person in the history of the world other than Jesus – deserve to be anywhere near His lineage. But faith in God – trusting in His work, His steadfast love, His kindness, His promises, and in Him – is woven through that lineage like a scarlet cord of grace, like that cord hanging from Rahab’s window, marking those who He saves as safe (Ephesians 2:8-9).
When we look at the mixture of their sin and God’s faithfulness, their failures and His mercy, their weakness and His strength, we are reminded that noneof us are worthy of salvation. But that is exactly why He came. Jesus Himself said that He came to “seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10). That coming to seek and save is remembered in Christmas – the incarnation – God coming, taking on flesh and dwelling among us (John 1:14). Hope came as God Himself entered the world with a real genealogy filled with real sinners so He could redeem real sinners like us (Philippians 2:5-8).
The stories of these four women aren’t in Matthew 1 to embarrass them or Jesus. They’re there to announce Him! They testify that the promised King comes through stories soaked in sin, sorrow, scandal, and suffering so that He can bring hope where hope seems impossible. Their lives preach to us that no one is too far gone, no past is too messy, no family tree too twisted, no heart too broken or sin too deep for the Redeemer who came from their line (Hebrews 7:25).
So, as you gather with family and friends this Christmas – and maybe as you glance around at some rough-looking fruit on your own family tree – or whether the roughest branch you see is staring back to you in the mirror of God’s Word, remember this: Jesus is more than the reason for the season. He is the gift of hope for sinners. He came through a broken lineage to step into our brokenness. He came to seek and save people like Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, and David – people like you and people like me (Romans 5:8).
If you haven’t before, won’t you ask Him to save you?
Call on Him. Trust Him. Let the promised King fill your heart with the gift of hope – real hope, lasting hope, the hope that only Jesus can give (1 Peter 1:3-5). If Jesus has saved you, take heart in this beautiful truth: the same King who came to seek and save you is the One who holds you fast. Your hope still isn’t in your performance but in Him and in His promises. And “He who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23). He has redeemed you (Ephesians 1:7), He is with you (Matthew 28:20), and He will come again for you (John 14:3). So fix your eyes on Him this Christmas. Rest in what He’s done. Rejoice in what He’s doing. And let the hope of our Promised King steady your heart now and in every season to come.
[2] This was known as a levirate marriage. TheLexham Cultural Ontology Glossary defines levirate marriage as:
“A law and custom in ancient Israel that if a man died without sons his brother would take the widow for a wife in order to provide male offspring for his dead brother. The children then would be heirs of their dead father’s land and possessions and the family line would not be broken.”
[3] For clarification, saying “her people” here is not referencing her ethnicity but the fact that God commanded Jericho marked for destruction as punishment for sin.
[4] The IVP Bible Background Commentary: Old Testament defines kinsman redeemer thusly:
“The kinsman-redeemer’s role was to help recover the tribes losses, whether those loses were human (in which case he hunted down the killer), judicial (in which case he assisted in lawsuits) or economic (in which case he recovered the property of a family member). Since Yahweh had granted the land to the Israelites as tenants, they could not sell it…. In this way the land remained with extended family as a sign of its membership in the covenantal community.”
This describes the way Boaz married Ruth so that Naomi would have access and provision from the land of her husband and family. There was a more closely related person who could have done this, but Boaz chose to take up the mantle of Ruth’s husband in order to give them the care they needed.
As Paul closes his letter, he moves from big doctrines to very practical details. He gives instructions about a collection for believers in Jerusalem who are in need, asking each person to set something aside on “the first day of every week”—the day believers gathered in honor of Jesus’s resurrection (vv. 1–2). Giving is to be regular, intentional, and proportionate, not random or forced (v. 2). Paul also shares his travel plans and explains why he is staying in Ephesus for a while longer: “a wide door for effective work has opened to me, and there are many adversaries” (vv. 5–9). Even in opposition, God is at work. He also urges the church to receive Timothy without fear and notes that Apollos will come when he has opportunity (vv. 10–12).
Then Paul gives a series of short but powerful commands: “Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love” (vv. 13–14). The church is to live alert and courageous, but always with a heart of love. He commends the household of Stephanas, “the first converts in Achaia,” as faithful servants and urges the church to be subject to such godly leaders and to honor those who labor among them (vv. 15–18). The letter closes with warm greetings from the churches in Asia, including Aquila and Prisca and the church that meets in their house, and with the reminder that believers should greet one another with a “holy kiss”—a sign of genuine family love in Christ (vv. 19–20).
Paul signs the ending with his own hand and gives both a sober warning and a hopeful cry: “If anyone has no love for the Lord, let him be accursed. Our Lord, come!” (vv. 21–22). Love for Jesus is not optional—it marks those who truly belong to Him. Yet even as he warns, Paul ends on grace and love: “The grace of the Lord Jesus be with you. My love be with you all in Christ Jesus” (vv. 23–24). Truth, warning, grace, and affection all come together in this closing, showing a pastor’s heart that longs for his people to stand firm in the gospel and live in love until Jesus returns.
🌀 Reflection: Where do you most need these closing commands today—to stay alert, stand firm, be courageous and strong, and do everything in love (vv. 13–14)? Ask the Lord to help you hold onto truth without losing tenderness, and to shape your giving, your serving, and your relationships so that they clearly flow from love for Jesus and His people.
💬 Mission Challenge: Set aside a specific gift or act of generosity this week—financial or otherwise—to bless a believer or ministry in need, and let them know you are doing it “in love” because of Jesus (vv. 2, 14).
Just Keith Harris 