A List of Names: Why Genealogies Matter

The Importance of a Genealogy, Part 1

A few weeks ago, I was in a conversation with a student (who, by the way, is probably reading this) about the Gospels. To make a long story short, he admitted that he always skips the first seventeen verses of the New Testament because “it was just names.” Thus, this series was born. In an instant!

I get it. That section of Matthew is a long list of people we can’t pronounce—but hear me out! Those names aren’t just there to waste ink. They are there to preach to us. Seriously!

Genealogies in Scripture aren’t random filler. They are intentional. They are deeply theological. When we skip them, we miss some of the best parts of the story. They may not sound like the most exciting thing in the world, but I promise it’s richer than you think.

Before we jump into the genealogy in Matthew or Luke, let’s zoom out and ask a simple but important question… why do genealogies even matter?

They Aren’t Just Lists

The Hebrew word used for genealogies is toledot. It appears frequently in the book of Genesis and is typically translated as “generations” or “account.” It’s how the writers of Scripture signal a shift in the story. Think of it like a chapter heading. It shows up thirteen times in Genesis alone. It’ll say something like…

“These are the generations of the heavens and the earth...”

“These are the generations of Adam...”

“These are the generations of Noah...”

In the ancient world, genealogies weren’t optional. They were essential. They told people who they were and where they belonged. They were about inheritance, legacy, tribal identity, and social status.

That said, biblical writers used them differently. They weren’t just trying to record biological history. They were telling a theological story. In other words, genealogies weren’t just about where you came from. They were about what story you were a part of.

[[ For what it’s worth, genealogies were also a form of memory. And memory is a sacred act. When we forget where we came from, we forget who we are. More on this later. ]]

A Quick Aside about Exclusion

One thing that can trip people up is that some biblical genealogies don’t include every generation. That’s actually on purpose!

Take Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus. He breaks it into three groups of fourteen. He’s not trying to include every single ancestor. He’s trying to make a point.

The number fourteen is important because it’s the numerical value of the name David in Hebrew. Matthew essentially shouts to his readers that Jesus is the promised Son of David. The King they’ve been waiting for.

This isn’t a mistake or a cover-up. It’s a theological structure. It’s a way of using form to preach content.

The same goes for the genealogy in Luke. We’ll cover that more in a future post, but the idea is the same. These lists are doing more than we think. They are less about DNA and more about design, if that makes any sense?

Okay, Back to the Names

Let’s go back to that list in Matthew 1. Before Jesus is born, before the angels show up, before the manger scene, we get a genealogy—a surprising one at that!

You’ve got Abraham and David in there, of course. But then you also have Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba. Women who were outsiders. Women who were involved in scandals. Women who would never be included in a typical ancient genealogy. And yet, there they are. Not hidden. Not footnoted. Front and center!

What is Matthew doing? He’s showing us that grace is woven into the very lineage of Jesus. That the story doesn’t clean itself up before God uses it. The family tree of the Messiah has crooked branches. That is very good news.

If you’ve ever felt like your story is too messy to matter, take a good look at the names in Matthew 1. God doesn’t just tolerate broken people. The story is built through them.

Genealogies and Patience

We live in a world of instant everything. That makes it hard to follow a God who works across generations. The genealogies in Scripture, however, remind us that God plays the long game.

Think about the promise made to Abraham. “I will make you into a great nation” (see Genesis 12). That promise took centuries to unfold. From Abraham to Isaac to Jacob to the twelve tribes to slavery to wandering to the kingdom to exile to silence… and then, finally, Jesus.

The genealogy in Matthew 1 is the receipt. It’s the record that the promise wasn’t forgotten, even when it took what felt like forever.

[[ For what it’s worth, waiting is part of faith. If the promises of God always showed up on our schedule, they wouldn’t stretch our hearts the way they do. ]]

What It All Means

I know this post has been more teachy than preachy, but I want to land it where it matters.

Genealogies matter because they show us that faith isn’t just about big moments. It’s about generations and redemptive patterns playing out in long, quiet, ordinary lines.

They remind us that grace is not random. It is slow. It is patterned. It is passed on through the most unexpected people.

They remind us that we don’t follow Jesus in a vacuum. We are part of something bigger. A bigger family. A bigger story. A bigger line.

The story of Jesus started long before Bethlehem, and it stretches way past today.

In other words, you are in the line now, too.

Hopefully, That Made Sense

You don’t need to memorize the names, but you do need to understand the story.

Genealogies are not the parts of the Bible you should skip. They are the places where faithfulness is spelled out, one name at a time. They tell us that grace is slow, but sure. Redemption is messy, but it is real.

…and that the story never forgot you.

Until next time,
Petey