Bethlehem’s Unexpected King

Summary of my sermon, based on Micah 5. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on December 14, 2025.

We’re back in our Christmas series, “God With Us: Advent in the book of Micah.” Micah is one of the “minor” prophets—minor only in length, not in importance. Case in point: Micah 5:2 is one of the best-known prophetic verses of Christmas. We’ve already met it this season because it’s tied to the Bethlehem (peace) candle.

A quick catch-up. Micah’s message moves in cycles of judgment and hope. In chapter 1 we saw God’s terrifying judgment over Israel and Judah’s idolatry. Chapter 2 zoomed in on a particular sin: social injustice—wealthy landowners stealing land from the poor, which also attacked God’s plan for the land to symbolize Israel’s special place with Him. Yet chapter 2 ended with a first glimmer of hope: God would preserve a remnant. Chapter 3 exposed corrupt rulers and even bought-and-paid-for prophets; the judgment climaxed with the loss of the land itself. Then came the stunning reversal in chapter 4: the mountain of the Lord lifted high, the nations streaming to Him, and lasting peace (Mic 4:1–4). Still, Micah 4:9–10 warned of labor pains first—exile and suffering—followed by redemption. And 4:11–13 lifted our eyes all the way to the end of the age.

Into that context, Micah 5 opens. Verse 1 anticipates the humiliation of Judah’s king under siege—fulfilled in Zedekiah’s collapse during the Babylonian conquest (2 Kgs 25). Verses 1 and 3 echo the labor-pains image from 4:9–10: there will be real pain before joy is born. Right between those pains sits the promise: “Bethlehem Ephrathah” (Mic 5:2). For us that sounds obvious; for Micah’s audience it was shocking. Bethlehem was an insignificant little town—so small it isn’t even listed among Judah’s 120 towns in Joshua 15. Yes, David came from Bethlehem and God promised David an everlasting house (2 Sam 7), but David’s royal sons were born and reigned from Jerusalem. No one expected the Messiah’s arrival to arise from a tiny, no-name place like “house of bread.”

And that’s exactly the point. This is God’s modus operandi. He loves to use what is weak and lowly to shame the strong, so no one can boast in His presence (1 Cor 1:27–29). Bethlehem’s smallness magnifies the greatness of the One who comes from there.

Micah then uses shepherd imagery: the Ruler will “stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the LORD… and he shall be their peace” (Mic 5:4–5a). If “the LORD is my shepherd” (Ps 23), and the coming King is the Shepherd of God’s flock, then we are being nudged to recognize that the Messiah is God Himself come near—Immanuel (Isa 7:14). What was mystery to the prophets has been revealed to us in Christ: the Word became flesh (Jn 1), the Good Shepherd lays down His life for the sheep (Jn 10), and His peace guards our hearts (Phil 4:7). This is the already and the not yet of Advent: in His first coming Jesus truly accomplished salvation; in His second coming He will consummate it. So we celebrate His first Advent and, with patient hearts, we wait for the second (Jas 5:7–8).

The rest of Micah 5 widens that hope. In 5:5b–6, “Assyria” functions as a cipher for the enemies of God’s people across time: the Messiah delivers His people when the invader treads within our borders. In 5:10–11, God tears down horses and chariots—the ancient symbols of security—to teach us that our real safety is in Him. For us that means our ultimate security isn’t in bank accounts, careers, or health metrics but in the love of God in Christ from which nothing can separate us (Rom 8:37–39). In 5:12, He exposes the futility of sorceries and fortune-tellers; today’s versions have glossier packaging—“inside tips,” algorithmic hype, spiritualized self-help—but true wisdom is found in Christ alone (1 Cor 1:25). In 5:13–14, He uproots idols and sacred pillars; our idols may be good things turned ultimate—family, work, reputation, even ministry—but the new heart He gives enables us to worship the Creator above every created thing (Ezek 36:26). And 5:15 reminds us there is an ultimate, righteous victory in the Messiah. Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ; so be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord (1 Cor 15:57–58).

So, what should we carry into this week of Advent? First, don’t miss the quiet glory of Bethlehem. God delights to work through what the world overlooks. If your life feels small or your contribution hidden, remember where the Savior’s story began and let that free you to be faithful where you are. Second, let the Shepherd-King be your peace. Bring Him your anxieties and fractured thoughts and ask Him to rule in your heart with His peace. Third, live the already/not-yet tension well: trust Him as your security, seek His wisdom in His Word, turn from subtle idols, and labor in hope—because none of it is in vain.

Praise the Lord that the victory began in that tiny town two thousand years ago. May we not let the season’s noise distract us from the season’s news: the Son of David, born in Bethlehem, is our Shepherd, our Peace, and our King. Come, Lord Jesus.

The Genealogy of Jesus

Summary of my sermon, based on Matthew 1:1-17. Preached at Greenhills Christian Fellowship Toronto on December 1, 2024.

If you’ve never heard the song “Matthew’s Begats” by Andrew Peterson, I highly recommend checking it out. It’s a fun and catchy way to hear the genealogy of Jesus from Matthew 1. I first learned it as a teenager when my youth group performed it in a Christmas cantata, so hearing it now brings back some great memories.

Now, if you compare the song lyrics to the text in Matthew 1:1-17, you might notice a few name variations. For example:

  • Aram (KJV, Greek) = Ram (ESV, NIV, NKJV)
  • Asa (KJV, NKJV, NIV) = Asaph (ESV, Greek)
  • Amon (KJV, NKJV, NIV) = Amos (ESV, Greek)
  • Jehoiachin = Jeconiah (all versions)

These aren’t contradictions, just alternate spellings. But one interesting change in the song is how it refers to Josiah “grandfathering” Jehoiachin, whereas Matthew 1:11 states Josiah was Jehoiachin’s father. The Old Testament timeline confirms that Jehoiachin was actually the son of Jehoiakim (2 Kings 24:6), meaning Matthew skips a generation. This isn’t a mistake—Matthew arranges the genealogy in a structured way, emphasizing Jesus’ place in Jewish history.

Matthew 1:17 explains this:

“So all the generations from Abraham to David were fourteen generations, and from David to the deportation to Babylon fourteen generations, and from the deportation to Babylon to the Christ fourteen generations.” (ESV)

Matthew isn’t giving a complete genealogy; he’s structuring it to highlight the significance of Jesus’ birth. That’s why many scholars call Matthew “the Gospel for the Jews.”

Each Gospel emphasizes a different aspect of Jesus:

  • Matthew: The Son of David
  • Mark: The Son of Man
  • Luke: The Son of Adam
  • John: The Son of God

Matthew was writing to a Jewish audience, familiar with the Old Testament. He quotes it 54 times—more than any other Gospel. He references Jewish customs without explanation, assuming his readers understand things like fasting, ritual washing, and temple tax. More than any other Gospel, Matthew presents Jesus as the Messiah who fulfills Old Testament prophecies. That’s why he records Jesus saying:

“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.” (Matthew 5:17, ESV)

But here’s the amazing thing—the genealogy of Jesus isn’t just about Jewish history. It also highlights God’s plan to save the whole world.

Consider the five women mentioned: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba (Uriah’s wife), and Mary. Two of them—Rahab and Ruth—were Gentiles. Bathsheba was married to a Hittite, and all five of these women were associated with scandal in some way.

  • Tamar disguised herself as a prostitute and tricked her father-in-law into sleeping with her (Genesis 38).
  • Rahab was a Canaanite prostitute who helped Israel’s spies in Jericho (Joshua 2).
  • Ruth approached Boaz in a way that, while culturally acceptable, could be seen as scandalous (Ruth 3).
  • Bathsheba committed adultery with King David, leading to devastating consequences (2 Samuel 11).
  • Mary was pregnant before her marriage to Joseph, which would have been scandalous to those who didn’t understand her divine calling (Matthew 1:18-19).

And it’s not just these women—many of the men in Jesus’ lineage were deeply flawed. King David was a man after God’s own heart, but he was also guilty of adultery and murder. Ahaz sacrificed his own son to idols (2 Kings 16:3). Manasseh led Israel into idolatry and child sacrifice (2 Kings 21:6).

Why does this matter? Because Jesus didn’t come from a perfect lineage—He came to save sinners. Paul writes:

“The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost.” (1 Timothy 1:15, ESV)

We aren’t saved by our own goodness but by grace:

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” (Ephesians 2:8-9, ESV)

And just as Jesus came to save the lost, we are called to share this message with the world:

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20, ESV)

Jesus’ genealogy is more than a list of names. It’s a testament to God’s grace. No matter our past, Jesus welcomes us into His family.