Homily on the Sunday Before the Nativity of Christ (Theophanes Kerameus)

Homily on the Sunday Before the Nativity of Christ

"On the Book of the Genealogy of Jesus Christ the Son of David"

Homily 14

By Theophanes Kerameus (+ 1152)

"A star has now arisen from the tribe of Judah; and when the kings perceived it, they set out from the East and hasten to arrive, that they might behold Christ, born in the flesh in Bethlehem." (Ode 3, Matins for the Forefeast of Christmas)

Just as when the sun rises and appears on the horizon the lights of the stars are overshadowed, unable to endure such brilliance, so too when the Sun of Righteousness rises from the womb of the Virgin, the choir of the Fathers appears to shine forth beforehand, like a choir of stars. For this reason the sacred Matthew, whose Gospel we begin to read today, seems to have gathered them together as if within a sheltered harbor. Come, then, let us examine together the purpose of this genealogy. First among the Evangelists, eight years after the Ascension of Christ, Matthew wrote his Gospel in Hebrew, in a God-inspired manner, addressing the Jews who had converted to Christ.

Since every line of the Gospel aims at this — to keep our gaze fixed on the eighth day, that future state — for this reason the Apostle, when the eighth year had come since he received the divine illuminations in the city of Zion, took courage to set about writing his Gospel. Therefore, addressing the Jews, he begins his writing with a genealogy, according to the common and familiar custom among them. Just as Moses, in turn, calls the account of the creation of the world and the formation of man “The Book of the Genesis of heaven and earth,” and likewise “The Book of the Genesis of man,” so the Evangelist, by enumerating generations, calls his book “The Book of Genesis,” or, in other words, “The Book of Genealogy.” In brief, this enumeration begins with Abraham, since he was the beginning of both nations. Abraham believed while uncircumcised and remained faithful even after circumcision. He was also the one who received the divine prophecies concerning the calling of the Gentiles and the Incarnation of the Word. “In your seed,” God said to him, “all the nations shall be blessed.”

But why, in this genealogy, did he prefer to place the name of David first and then that of Abraham, when it would have seemed more proper to say, “The Book of the Genealogy of Jesus Christ, Son of Abraham, Son of David”? Both were prophets and God-bearing fathers; yet David was also a king, and for this reason his anointing and dignity are especially honored. And this genealogy is a genealogy of men, because, according to creation, the woman follows the man, and the man is her head; thus he begins the enumeration from the one who comes first.

One might rightly wonder why Matthew passed over without mentioning women such as the holy Sarah and Rebecca, without a word about Leah or Rachel or any other virtuous woman, and instead mentioned only four women, two of whom were Gentiles and the other two of questionable life. He thus includes in the genealogy the Gentile Tamar, the harlot Rihah — whose other name was Rahab — together with Ruth, a Moabitess by origin, and the wife of Uriah, Bathsheba. Everyone who studies the Scriptures knows that Tamar and Ruth were Gentiles who were incorporated into the Jewish tribe. Rahab, on the other hand, was a harlot in Jericho, whose brothel was on the city wall for whoever wished to purchase her. Bathsheba was the wife of a righteous man, yet David became the thief of her marriage, the murderer of Uriah, and the begetter of an unlawful pregnancy — alas — he who was both prophet and king.

The reason, then, that Matthew mentioned these Gentile women is that he wished to show that the Child who was born and given to us, Emmanuel, desired to gather into the same courtyard not only those from Israel, but also those from the other nations. Even more, he names women who had lived sinful lives, so that you might reflect with fear that for your sake the Lord condescends even to be reckoned genealogically from harlots. At the same time this word curbs your arrogance, so that if you happen to come from a noble lineage and possess refined appearance and manners, you may not exalt yourself over those who come from humbler families, seeing the Master Himself reckoned humbly among them. Thus Tamar and Ruth and the other two were images of things to come and foreshadowings, clearly depicting the Church from the Gentiles.

Let us therefore see, hand in hand, how from visible things we may contemplate higher meanings. I shall hasten my discourse, passing over much of the first account and saying only a few words, so as to make clear what the narrative truly wishes to tell us — so that my words may be instruction for those who do not know this story, and a reminder for those who do.

Immediately after the prudent Joseph was sold by his brothers and taken to Egypt, Judah took a Canaanite wife named Shua. By Shua three sons were born: Er, Onan, and Shelah. To his first son Judah gave Tamar as wife — she was of another people, yet beautiful in form, surpassing all women in beauty. But her husband Er appeared wicked before God and died prematurely without having children, having scarcely tasted of the young woman’s beauty. According to the custom then in force, Onan, the next brother, entered her chamber to raise up seed for his deceased brother by Tamar. But when he reflected, he realized that if Tamar conceived and bore a child, her beauty would fade, and the child would be reckoned as his brother’s rather than his own. Thinking thus, he devised an evil plan. How can one describe with modest words something immodest? Yet since Scripture does not hesitate to describe it, I will say this: when wicked Onan lay with Tamar, he did not give what was necessary in the womb’s furrows for conception. Justice, which hates wickedness, also rejected him, and he died.

Thus Tamar, left twice a widow — as though her marriages had taken place in a dream — childless and without a husband, began to look toward Judah’s third son, Shelah, who was still young, not out of lust, but from the desire to conceive a child from the seed of Abraham. But Judah reasoned that his sons had died young because of Tamar, and wishing not to lose his third child as well, he made excuses to set Tamar aside and soon sent her back to her village to her parents, to mourn her widowhood until Shelah came of age.

All this happened exactly so: she mourned in seclusion, dressed in black; time passed; Shelah grew up, yet no marriage appeared. Tamar then understood Judah’s scheme, set her will firmly, and resolved upon a plan as cunning as befits a woman’s nature. As those skilled in warfare know, those who cannot array their army face to face seek to prevail through skirmishes and ambushes. In the same way Tamar planned to deceive the one who had deceived her, and she felt no shame in her stratagem, which I shall now recount.

Shua, Judah’s wife, died. When the season came for the shearing of the sheep, Judah had to pass by Tamar’s village on his way to his flocks. When Tamar learned this, she cast off her black garments, adorned herself like a bride, adopted the manners of a harlot, arranged her hair, and sat by the roadside awaiting her father-in-law’s passage. As the day waned, Judah appeared with a shepherd who lived with him — his name, for those who care, was Hirah. When Tamar saw them approaching, she began her performance with gestures, sighs, and coquettishness sufficient to strip herself of every trace of shame through unbridled licentiousness, in order to inflame the desire of the widower. At times she slightly uncovered her garment to reveal her bodily beauty, then covered it again, pretending not to recognize Judah, yet never ceasing to provoke him.

To hasten the account: Judah was dazzled by her beauty, and thinking her truly a harlot, he sent his servant as a go-between, promising to send her a young goat. She eagerly accepted. When night came and they lay together, Tamar, having fully ensnared her victim, asked as pledges the staff, the cord, and the ring of Judah. He, now entirely enslaved by desire, handed over his belt, cast down his staff, and gave also his ring. I shall not describe the deeds of the night, but only say that matters turned out differently than before: Tamar became a lawful wife, and the widower became a lover. At dawn Judah rose from the bed and departed like a thief, to conceal the deed in darkness. But Tamar, once she conceived, knew well whose child it was. When daylight fully came, she returned to her house holding the pledges as trophies of victory.

Not much time passed, and as her belly swelled, her pregnancy became evident to all. She was reported to Judah as an adulteress, and he decided to have her put to death. As they led Tamar to execution, she sent the pledges to the widower Judah, so that he might recognize whose they were. At their sight Judah was astonished, and from a harsh judge became a repentant one. “Tamar is innocent,” he cried, “and I am guilty, because I did not give her my son Shelah as husband.”

All these things clearly prefigure the Church from the Gentiles. They signify the nations — some sick in atheism, others in polytheism — and also the seed of faith and righteousness that descends from above and falls upon the land of delusion and passions, which bears no fruit while uncultivated, just as a woman without a husband cannot bear a child. Since the Church could not retain any fruit from these, she conceived from the seed of Judah — that is, from the Lord who arose from the tribe of Judah. And hearing that after some time Judah united with Tamar while going to his sheep, let it not surprise us that Christ, who came from the tribe of Judah, was first sent to the sheep of the house of Israel, as He Himself testified, while salvation for the Gentiles was effected later.

Thus the meanings correspond with the narrative. The Church receives the ring — the pledge of faith — by which the hidden image symbolized by its engraved seal is revealed again. She also receives the belt, which girds her with the power of the Gospel, and the staff, signifying the Cross, on which we rest our faith and with which we drive away the wild dogs that howl around us. Finally, she gives birth to two children from one womb of the soul: right faith and the conscience of good works.

If we read this story as a moral allegory, we learn that the name of the beautiful Tamar means “bitterness,” like pleasure, which is fair to behold and sweet to taste, yet afterward leaves a bitter aftertaste, for the honey that drips comes from lips of wickedness and ends with the bitterness of gall. Such pleasure first approaches the appetitive and irascible powers, both governed by reason, and after consorting with them destroys them, as Tamar destroyed Er and Onan, burying them when they had strayed into the fields of irrationality. Then it turns against the mind, using its deceptive charms and making the servant — a broker — out of the mind’s perception. Sin thus strips us of the staff, the belt, and the ring, seeking to enslave us entirely.

The belt signifies temperance, restraining the flow of passions; the ring signifies freedom of conscience and the divine calling according to the image; the staff is the word of hope that strengthens us against despair. When sin deprives us even of this staff, it easily controls us. Therefore, brothers, since all these things were written for our admonition, let us flee pleasure, guard the belt of sanctifying self-control, not betray our calling according to the image like a ring given away, and if we fall in anything, let despair not steal from us the staff of hope.

Thus, purified, let us go to meet the newborn Christ, glorifying Him with the angels and praising Him with the shepherds, offering faith instead of gold, good works instead of incense, and the mortification of the body instead of myrrh. And so let us all richly partake of the secret table, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom, together with the Father and the Holy Spirit, be worshipped, now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

Source: P.G. 132. Translated by John Sanidopoulos.