Think about the way you introduce yourself. People very often begin with the work they do, then proceed to things like where they live, their spouse, their children, and perhaps their pet(s) too. All of these items in the standard personal introduction are well and good, and this was precisely how I introduced myself for much of my life. But over 15 years ago, I had an important encounter with an Indigenous Christian leader. He embodied a different way of thinking and being, and he awakened in me a desire to learn more of my own maternal Indigenous heritage. 

This slow work of cultural reclamation has been hard and beautiful work. And one thing that began to change was how I formally introduced myself. The change came as I began to understand what my maternal family had lost because of colonization and discrimination—encountered both in wider society and in the Church. This reclamation taught me a different world view, a different way of being, a different way of relating to the community of creationCreation, in biblical terms, is the universe as we know or perceive it. Genesis says that in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. In the book of Revelation (which speaks of end times) the author declares that God created all things and... More around me, and a different way to relate to the past. 

Part of this journey has also been a different way to do my work as a biblical scholar in theological education. In preparation of my co-authored work with my Choctaw friend Chris Hoklotubbe, Reading the Bible on Turtle Island: An Invitation to North American Indigenous Interpretation, we both spent time traveling across the content. We met with Indigenous followers of JesusJesus is the Messiah whose life, death, and resurrection are God's saving act for humanity. More, many of whom were ministers or teachers. Some of them lived in urban places away from their traditional lands, while others lived in the lands of the Indigenous ancestors. These relationships shaped us in very important ways. One thing I certainly noted was a profound love for their lands and respect for their people and ancestors. It shaped them—it is part of their identity. 

During this same time, I was also working on a short commentary on MatthewA tax collector who became one of Jesus' 12 disciples. More for the New Testament in Color volume. In the midst of this commentary writing, I learned from some of my Māori friends about whakapapa—a genealogical account that one gives of oneself. Depending on the occasion, a person’s whakapapa may be exhaustive or selective, and may encompass territories, landscapes, status, and kinship with all of creation. This locates the speaker, declaring precisely where Creator has placed them, with all of the requisite relations, roles, and responsibilities.

Now, when I introduce myself, I have learned from my Indigenous friends and relatives. I identify the people to whom I belong. I identify the lands that my people have belonged to. I identify the Treaty that ought to govern my relationship with others who now share the land. I acknowledge the people and lands in which I now reside, knowing that I am a guest. And I also include those things which are part of the standard introduction. Because something I have learned from Indigenous friends and mentors along this journey of reclamation is a circular, rather than linear, worldview. And as part of this reality, I recognize that what is in my past—our lands, our joys, our traumas, my ancestors—they both stand behind me and call me forth to live into who I was made to be.

Roots and relations: Reading Matthew’s genealogyGenealogy involves the study and tracing of families through the generations—in short, family history. One genealogy in Genesis traces the nations descended from Noah. In the New Testament Matthew traces the ancestry of Jesus back to Abraham, while Jesus' genealogy in the Gospel of Luke... More with Indigenous eyes

I am sure you can understand now why this teaching from my own cultural heritage and other Indigenous practices has helped me to understand and appreciate Matthew’ opening chapter in a different way. When we open the Gospel of Matthew, we are met not with a miracle, a teaching, or even a dramatic story—but with a genealogy. For many modern readers, beginning a book with a list of names feels puzzling, perhaps even tedious. Yet for Matthew’s first hearers, and for Indigenous readers today, this beginning carries deep meaning. It is about roots, relations, and the stories that shape one’s identity and call us forth into our roles and responsibilities. Indigenous peoples often emphasize the importance of beginnings: 

Who is present at the start? 

Where is a person rooted? 

What stories of land and kinship locate them? 

Matthew, as an ancient biographer and author, understood this as a shared concern. It mattered to him. It mattered to his audience. And so, as he wrote his Gospel, his goal of faithfully portraying the person of Jesus had to start with a genealogy. Matthew called forth a selection of the ancestors of Jesus because for ancient tribal readers (particularly the Israelites) this genealogy would firmly situate him into a common story. Matthew’s selectivity and surprising additions and departures from a normal patrilineal genealogy also spoke volumes. These family roots—these people, these stories, these traumas, these promises—calls forth the kind of man that Jesus came to be. He is the son of AbrahamGod promised that Abraham would become the father of a great nation, receive a land, and bring blessing to all nations. More, identifying fully with the promises and covenantA covenant is a promise or agreement. In the Bible the promises made between God and God's people are known as covenants; they state or imply a relationship of commitment and obedience. More first given to Abraham. He is the son of DavidSecond king of Israel, David united the northern and southern kingdoms. More, willingly picking up the mantle of Davidic leadership. He is the ancestor of righteousA righteous person is one who is ethical and faithful to God's covenant. Righteousness in the Old Testament is an attitude of God; in the New Testament it is a gift of God through grace. In the New Testament righteousness is a relationship with God... More gentiles like Tamar and RuthThe great-grandmother of David. More. His people were profoundly shaped by the trauma of exile.

Matthew, more than any other biblical genealogy, draws in the stories of his ancestors, the lands promised to Abraham, the messianic promise of the house of David, the trauma of exile, and even draws in all of creation by beginning his whole book with the Greek words biblos geneseōs—“book of beginnings of Jesus …” or “book of genesis of Jesus …” In the ears of an Indigenous hearer, we now know what we need to know about this man. We know who he is called to be. We know the roles and responsibilities that his past is calling him to for his future.

The great joy of my own journey of cultural reclamation is that I have become a better follower of Jesus. I strive to embrace my holistic identity, and in so doing I imitate Jesus. And perhaps the challenge for us as Jesus followers today from Matthew 1 is not only to learn about Jesus’ ancestry, but to learn about our own. To see it as part of our identity. To gladly speak it out. To gladly let it call us forth into our roles and responsibilities. And to widen the recognition of our family roots, as we also recognize that we have also been grafted into the family of Abraham, not as a replacement of our identity, but as a further enrichment, as we participate in the life of the triune God.