Mary’s Magnificat – Week 2
In Middle Eastern culture, when someone does something remarkable, people often ask about their family: 'Whose daughter is she? Who are her people?' These questions about family and lineage remain deeply important in the region today, just as they were in Mary's time.
So as we explore Jesus' family tree during this second week of Advent, I'd like to share some intriguing research that has puzzled scholars for centuries. While some of what I'll present is based on scholarly debate and interpretation rather than absolute certainty, I believe understanding these potential family connections can deepen our appreciation of the Christmas story.
Looking at this family tree before us, we see a fascinating divergence at King David. The genealogy is structured like an upside-down "Y" shape. After David, the lineage splits into two branches - through his sons Solomon and Nathan. Matthew's Gospel follows the royal succession through Solomon (Matthew 1:1-17), tracing the line of kings that would eventually lead to Joseph.[1] Luke's Gospel (Luke 3:23-38), however, takes us down a different path through David's son Nathan, following a line of ordinary people across the generations. Despite taking these separate paths, both genealogies ultimately converge at Jesus, uniting both royal and humble heritage in one person.
There are several striking differences between these two family histories. While Luke reaches all the way back to Adam, showing Jesus' connection to all humanity, Matthew begins his account with Abraham, emphasizing Jesus' Jewish heritage and God's covenant with Israel. Perhaps most intriguingly, Matthew's account includes four women - something unusual for ancient genealogies. These women – Tamar (Genesis 38), Rahab from Jericho (Joshua 2, 6:22-25), Ruth the Moabite (Book of Ruth), and Bathsheba (2 Samuel 11-12), referred to as 'the wife of Uriah' - each have remarkable stories. Their inclusion, especially of the foreign-born Rahab and Ruth, hints at God's plan extending beyond Israel to embrace all peoples.
Early Church historians have proposed several fascinating theories to explain these differences. Eusebius (263-339 CE)[2] and Julius Africanus (160-240 CE)[3] suggested that Joseph's dual lineage resulted from levirate marriage - a practice we see throughout scripture where a man would marry his brother's widow to continue the family line. Think of Ruth, who married Boaz after her first husband died (Ruth 4:5-10), or Tamar in Genesis 38.
St. Augustine[4] offered a different explanation - adoption. Meanwhile, St. Jerome (347-420 AD)[5] and Fr. Cornelius a' Lapide (1567-1637)[6] proposed that Luke's genealogy might actually preserve Mary's lineage. They argued that her father, traditionally known as Joachim, was also called Heli (Luke 3:23), explaining that Joachim is a variant of Eliacim, which could be abbreviated as Eli/Heli.
Adding another layer to this family story, many Church Fathers, including St. Thomas Aquinas, suggested that Mary and Joseph may have been first cousins.[7] Some scholars proposed that Jacob and Heli were brothers, making their children - Mary and Joseph - first cousins. While this might seem unusual to our modern Western sensibilities, in small towns like Nazareth, marriage between relatives was a common practice that strengthened family bonds.
Next week, we'll explore how these different theories about Mary's lineage might give new meanings to our understanding of her famous prayer, the Magnificat.
As we conclude, you might wonder - does it ultimately matter whether Mary was truly a descendant of David? After all, the promise of the Messiah's lineage was fulfilled through Joseph's legal fatherhood of Jesus. But as a Nazarene myself, I find it intriguing to consider that Mary and Joseph, likely came from the same community, possibly even the same extended family. In small towns like Nazareth, marriage between relatives was not just common - it was a way of preserving community bonds and family traditions.
Whether through blood or through marriage, what remains profound is how God worked through ordinary human relationships and customs to bring about something extraordinary. Today, these same lands where Jesus' ancestors lived and where these genealogies were recorded - from Gaza to Nazareth - are once again witnessing profound suffering. Yet these ancient family histories remind us how God works through human history, even in times of great darkness, to bring light and hope. Just as these genealogies show us God's faithfulness across generations of conflict and peace, we trust in that same faithfulness today.
Let us pray the Magnificat together now, understanding that we speak not just as individuals, but as inheritors of this great tradition of faith, hope, and divine faithfulness.
[1] Raymond Edward Brown, "The Birth of the Messiah: A Commentary on the Infancy Narratives in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke" (New York: Doubleday, 1993), 57-58.
[2] Eusebius of Caesarea, "Church History," in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, Vol. 1, ed. Philip Schaff and Henry Wace (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1890), 1.7.1-16.
[3] Julius Africanus, "Epistle to Aristides," in Ante-Nicene Fathers, Vol. 6, ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1886), 125-127.
[4] Augustine of Hippo, "Sermon 1 on the New Testament," in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, Vol. 6, ed. Philip Schaff (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1888).
[5] Jerome, "Commentary on Matthew," in Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: Matthew 1-13, ed. Manlio Simonetti (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2001), 12.
[6] Cornelius a' Lapide, The Great Commentary of Cornelius a' Lapide, trans. Thomas W. Mossman (Edinburgh: John Grant, 1908), Vol. 1, 135-137.
[7] Thomas Aquinas, "Summa Theologica," III, q.31, a.2, in Summa Theologica, trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province (New York: Benziger Bros., 1947).
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