1 Chronicles 2:3–3:24

Original Meaning

Royal Family of David (3:1–24)

THE FAMILY OF David is the feature attraction of Judah’s genealogy. The Chronicler’s emphasis on David stems from his knowledge of prophetic statements about the unbreakable covenant God made with David and the reestablishment of Davidic kingship in Israel (cf. Jer. 33:19–22). He then offers this hope to his audience through the repetition of the word of the Lord to Nathan announcing the Davidic covenant (1 Chron. 17:4–14, esp. vv. 10–14; cf. 2 Sam. 7:4–16). The record of the royal line continues the genealogy tracing David’s ancestry from Ram to Jesse (1 Chron. 2:10–17). The chapter divides naturally into three distinct sections: David’s children (3:1–9), the kings of Judah (3:10–16), and the postexilic descendants of David (3:17–24).

David’s sons are registered in two lists according to the capital city in which they were born: Hebron (3:1–4) or Jerusalem (3:5–9). The genealogy highlights birth reports citing the name of the mother (e.g., 3:1), concluding tallies (e.g., 3:4), and name lists (e.g., 3:5). Chronicles reports the parallel record of David’s sons born in Hebron with only minor variation (e.g., Daniel is mentioned as the son of Abigail, not Kileab, cf. 2 Sam. 3:2–5). The roster of sons born to David in Jerusalem differs more noticeably from the Samuel parallel (2 Sam. 5:14–16) and the Chronicler’s internal parallel (1 Chron. 14:3–7). For example, this list enumerates the four sons of Bathshua (probably an alternative spelling of Bathsheba, 3:5) and includes the names of Nogah and Eliphelet (not found in the parallel lists in 2 Sam. 5). Shimea (1 Chron. 3:5) and Shammua (2 Sam. 5:14; 1 Chron. 14:4) are variations on the name of the firstborn son of Bathsheba.

The birth reports citing the name of the individual mothers of David’s sons recall the annals of the kings of Judah, where similar information is preserved (e.g., 1 Kings 15:2). Theologically, the practice reflects the association of the “offspring of the woman” promise (Gen. 3:15) with the line of David (cf. 2 Sam. 7:16). Tamar (1 Chron. 3:9) is mentioned because she is the only daughter of David; her story is known from 2 Samuel 13.

The Chronicler reports the complete list of Davidic kings reigning in the southern kingdom of Judah during the period of the divided Hebrew monarchies (3:10–16). Naturally, Athaliah (the evil queen who reigned between the regimes of Ahaziah and Joash) is omitted as a non-Davidide. Azariah (3:12) is also known as Uzziah (2 Chron. 26:1). The parallel accounts in 2 Kings omit Johanan, the firstborn son of Josiah (1 Chron. 3:15). Shallum (3:15) is the throne name of Jehoahaz (2 Kings 23:31; Jer. 22:11).

Jehoiachin (1 Chron. 3:16), the next to last king of Judah, was taken captive by King Nebuchadnezzar and exiled as a prisoner of war in Babylonia (2 Kings 24:15). His release from prison upon the ascension of Evil-Merodach (2 Kings 25:27–30) serves as the postscript for the book of Jeremiah (Jer. 52:31–34) and rekindled hope for the restoration of the Davidic monarchy after the Babylonian exile.14 It is for this reason that the Chronicler introduces the last section of the Davidic genealogy with King Jehoiachin “the captive” (1 Chron. 3:17). Payne admits that the Chronicler’s birth order of Josiah’s sons is difficult to harmonize with the age formulas in 2 Kings 23:31, 36; 24:18; he assumes a scribal error in the transmission of the numbers.15

The final section of the royal genealogy contains the register of the post-exilic descendants of David (3:17–24).16 The eight generations counted after the Exile may be suggestive, perhaps identifying contemporaries of the Chronicler.17 The key figures of the list include Shenazzar, probably the same “prince of Judah” named Sheshbazzar, who led the initial wave of Jewish emigrants back to Jerusalem with the help of King Cyrus of Persia (cf. Ezra 1:8–11), and Zerubbabel, who headed up a second Hebrew migration from Persia sometime later (Ezra 2:2). Zerubbabel, son of Shealtiel (through Pedaiah, 1 Chron. 3:17–19), served as governor of postexilic Judah for a time (cf. Zech. 4:6–10). It was Haggai’s blessing of Zerubbabel as God’s “signet ring” that overturned Jeremiah’s curse on the line of King Jehoiachin and restored royal authority to the descendants of David (Hag. 2:23; cf. Jer. 22:28–30).

According to Selman, these postexilic descendants of David are the corporate incarnation of a living hope for the eventual restoration of Davidic kingship in Israel.18 This hope is exemplified even in the names of Zerubbabel’s children, such as Meshullam (“Restored,” 1 Chron. 3:19), Hananiah (“Yahweh is merciful,” 3:19), Shelomith (“Peace,” 3:19), Hashubah (“Yahweh has considered,” 3:20), Ohel (“Tent” [of Yahweh], 3:20), Berekiah (“Yahweh has blessed,” 3:20), Hasidiah (“Yahweh is love,” 3:20), and Jushab-Hesed (“Covenant love returns,” 3:20).19

Bridging Contexts

THE DEATHBED BLESSING of Jacob over his son Judah anticipated Israelite kingship, as the “scepter” was promised to the tribe of Judah (Gen. 49:10). Centuries later this pledge was realized in the covenant of kingship God granted to David and his descendants (2 Sam. 7:4–17; 1 Chron. 17:4–15). Chronicles revives hopes for Davidic kingship by setting the tribe of Judah and the family of David as the centerpiece of the genealogical prologue. This reminder of the Davidic dynasty rekindled expectations for a resumption of the monarchy by rehearsing David’s family tree.

The Chronicler assumes that God will sprout a shoot from the “stump of Jesse” to govern the postexilic community in righteousness (in keeping with Isa. 11:1, 4). The family of David and the restoration of kingship is not, however, the primary emphasis of the Chronicler. Rather, his emphasis is on God’s faithfulness in preserving the tribe of Judah and the family of David. Historically speaking, there was good reason for the line of David to have been snuffed out by the Babylonian conquest and Exile. Nevertheless, God kept the family tree of David alive.

The roots of Israel’s genealogical tree run deep, beyond the Hebrew patriarchs and matriarchs back to the faithful of God remembered in that universal history of earliest humanity. More than that, the Chronicler reminds his audience that the branches of Israel’s family tree are numerous and full, generation after generation sustaining the legacy of those twelve tribes descended from Jacob. Wilcock has rightly noted that there is great value in tracing the genealogical roots of a people uprooted by exile and later transplanted by waves of emigrants returning to their homeland.20 In a real sense, postexilic Judah is rootless, with kingship but a memory and the institution of the temple and the office of the priest but a shadow of former times. The genealogical prologue serves the important purpose of grafting the postexilic Hebrew community into the family tree of her ancestors.

Establishing both the hereditary and the spiritual continuity between the past and present generations of Hebrews is important for several reasons. Two are crucial to the Chronicler’s message. (1) The Chronicler summons the postexilic community to move beyond tribalism and territoriality and to find unity in the stronger bond of faith in God as his people.21

(2) The Chronicler calls each postexilic generation of Israelites to stand in readiness and to serve the restoration effort as needed. This is especially true for the family of David, should the opportunity for the reestablishment of Israelite kingship materialize. The New Testament genealogy identifying Jesus Christ as the “Son of David” is all that more remarkable when viewed in light of Chronicles. Not only did God preserve the line of David until “the time had fully come” (Gal. 4:4), but also he sustained that spirit of readiness and obedience in the descendants of David—namely, Mary and Joseph (cf. Matt. 1:24; Luke 1:38).22

Finally, the Chronicler uses the literary form of genealogy with great skill and considerable confidence. He is intentional in where he wants to take his audience through the vehicle of the records of Israel’s family tree. The genealogical prologue works for the Chronicler because his audience is familiar with the story of Hebrew history, in many cases even the names of the “cast of thousands” participating in that story.

As Wilcock has observed, the Chronicler simply interprets and applies “facts” that his first audience knows already.23 He writes to a people steeped in its own history and well-schooled in its own Scriptures. His audience understands the overarching story of covenant history and Israel’s role in God’s redemptive plan for the nations. They grasp, if you will, the metanarrative of Old Testament revelation. The premium placed on teaching the words and deeds of God to the next generation by the Israelites assures the Chronicler that the “preaching” of names is enough; his audience knows “the rest of story” (cf. Deut. 4:9–10; 6:2, 7; Ps. 78:5–6).

Contemporary Significance

RETELLING THE STORY. The Chronicler’s genealogical prologue fails as a literary device today because the story of the Old Testament has no currency in our post-Christian or postbiblical society. Beyond this, the genealogical prologue proves extraneous because any story told with names only is incomprehensible in a postmodern culture that bases reality on the emotive narration of personal experiences. The fragmentation and trivialization of knowledge, the individualization of learning, and the tribalization of human experience in postmodern culture denies universal relevance to any story—let alone a story told through the seemingly endless register of names in a genealogy.

Sadly, the shadow of postmodernity grows steadily longer and darker over the Christian subculture. As one prominent biblical scholar has noted, “the Bible has become a springboard for personal piety and meditation, not a book to be read.”24 According to the (unscientific) results of biblical literacy tests given to Christian young people over the past several years, there is an emerging trend of an alarming lack of basic Bible knowledge. Though many youth (and adults) in the church use the Bible on a regular basis, few seem to know its stories.

Small wonder, then, that the genealogical prologue of Chronicles is better known as an antidote for insomnia in the church rather than a soaring and profound theology of hope for a beleaguered community of faith adrift in a sea of religious and cultural pluralism. How much less the appreciation for Matthew’s genealogy (Matt. 1:1–17) as the story of Jesus as the “Son of Man,” or truly representative human being, when Christian youth cannot even identify Matthew as one of Jesus’ apostles from a list of New Testament names! The church’s historical roots are withering in terms of basic knowledge of the biblical story of redemption and the essentials of church history. Nothing short of a “catechetical revolution” in Christian education in the home, the church, and the academy will thaw the “cultural winter” brought about by the increasingly imperialistic worldview of postmodernism.25

Neil Postman’s radical response to what may be called the “discrete” or fragmented learning of postmodernism is to teach every subject as history because every subject has a history.26 Knowledge of one’s ideological roots is as important as knowledge of one’s genealogical roots, perhaps more so. For the sake of personal identity and self-awareness, not only is it essential to know where one’s family comes from but also where one’s ideas originate. We must know where our world comes from, the source of what Postman calls our moral and aesthetic sensibilities. The teaching of subjects as historical continuities contextualizes knowledge. Or as Postman argues, “the history of subjects teaches connections; it teaches that the world is not created new each day, that everyone stands on someone else’s shoulders.”27

Educational theory and practice as outlined in the Old Testament understood this principle well. The aim or purpose of Hebrew education is encapsulated within the revelation given to Abraham concerning the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah (Gen. 18:19, in context immediately following the divine promise of an heir, 18:10–15). Here God bids Abraham to direct his children (and subsequent descendants) in “the way of the LORD.”

Generally speaking, “the way of the LORD” refers to knowledge of and obedience to the will of God as revealed through act and word in Old Testament history. The way or will of God for humanity reflects his personal character and attributes. As human beings love their neighbors as themselves (Lev. 19:18), practice righteousness and justice (Gen. 18:19), and pursue holiness (Lev. 11:44), they walk in the way of the Lord in that they mirror God’s character.

More specifically, “the way of the LORD” denotes the particular content of the series of covenant agreements or treaties Yahweh made with his people Israel. These covenants formed the basis of Israel’s relationship to Yahweh and were characterized by a stylized literary pattern that included legislation or stipulations necessary for maintaining that relationship (e.g., Ex. 20–23). Often the covenant or treaty concluded with the promise of blessings or curses conditioned by Israel’s obedience (or lack thereof!) to the specific covenant stipulations (e.g., Deut. 28).

Thus, Hebrew education was essentially instruction in covenant obedience or “keeping the way of the LORD” (cf. Gen. 18:19). Moses summarized the basic components of this covenant obedience in his farewell address to the Israelites as “to love the LORD your God, to walk in his ways, and to keep his commands, decrees and laws” (Deut. 30:16). Later, the psalmist condensed this covenant content of Old Testament education in the phrase “the law of the LORD” (Ps. 119:1).

Since the Israelites recognized Yahweh as the God of history, providentially active in the course of human events, history too became part of the content or curriculum of Hebrew education. The recitation and festal remembrance of divine acts in human history were instructive as to the nature of God and his purposes in creation. Naturally, the parade example of this historical trajectory in Hebrew education is the Passover, which celebrated the Exodus from Egypt (cf. Ex. 12–13; esp. 12:24–27; 13:11–16).

In time, the Hebrew poetic and wisdom traditions and the prophetic tradition were included in the covenant content of Old Testament education. The wisdom tradition served as a practical commentary on the law or covenant legislation while the prophetic tradition functioned as a theological commentary on Old Testament law. Like the legal tradition associated with the covenants, both wisdom and prophecy were rooted in the behavioral outcomes of loving God and doing righteousness and justice (cf. Prov. 1:3; 2:9; Hos. 6:6; Mic. 6:8).

Walter Brueggemann has offered a perceptive analysis of education in the Old Testament, connected to the major divisions of the Hebrew Bible: the Law or Torah, the Prophets, and the Writings (especially wisdom literature). His paradigm merits consideration as the church rethinks Christian education in a postmodern society. He views Israelite education in the Old Testament as a “nurturing in passion”—for loving God and maintaining covenant relationship with him.28 This means instruction in Old Testament times was “religious education” in that it was a quest for the transcendent, “moral education” in that it stressed behavioral outcomes, and “historical education” in that it stressed the historical continuity of divine revelation.29

Brueggemann identifies the primary way of knowing in Old Testament education as that of the ethos of the community or the fundamental religious truths embraced by the Hebrew people.30 These basic spiritual tenets are preserved in the law or Torah and the historical books of the Old Testament. The learner or initiate enters the community of faith by assimilating the accepted and trusted truths of the Israelites by means of a basic set of modalities, including religious tradition by rote (Deut. 6:7–9), dialogue (esp. in the form of catechism or question and answer, (Ex. 12:24–28), storytelling (Deut. 4:9–10; cf. Ps. 105), and sign and symbol (esp. in the office of the priesthood and the institution of the tabernacle, Ex. 25–40).

A second way of knowing, described as the pathos of God, disrupts the consensus of the truth accepted and established by the community. For Brueggemann, the Israelite prophets interrupt the continuity of the foundational truth of the Torah—intrusively challenging the consensus of truth in the community. This disruption of consensus is necessary because God may reveal new truth to the community (e.g., Isa. 42:9), or the human power structures within society may subvert or suppress the established truth of the community (e.g., 1 Kings 21:22). The prophets teach this new truth (or reinterpretation of the established truth) through dream, vision, oracle, poetic language, and personal object lesson (or living parable). This disruption prompted by the prophetic literature often “lay outside the rationality of their culture,” and educationally it required the learner to experience a certain “marginality” in respect to social status and economic power.31

Brueggemann’s third category of knowing is that of the logos of God, or discernment rooted in the wisdom literature of the Old Testament. The disclosure of established truth in the Torah and the disruption of this truth by the Prophets is mediated by the wisdom of God. This is essential for the educational process because it means “not everything is up for grabs.”32 Also, the discernment fostered by the Hebrew wisdom books encourages a synthesis that recognizes the interconnectedness of all of life. This means wisdom affirms human dependence on God, yet preserves and fosters the dignity of human initiative, investigation, and reflection—all the while nurturing the mystery of God’s inscrutability.

Finally, Brueggemann identifies obedience as a mode of knowledge. Moses set life before the people of Israel in the form of obedience to divine directives (Deut. 30:15–16). Obedience to God reassures faith and leads to communion with God. For Brueggemann, the discernment of wisdom finds its fulfillment in obedience because it ends in doxology.33 Obedience to God means his Word is the final Word. After probing the mysteries of life and death and faith in God, the learner ultimately must offer praise and worship to the sovereign Ruler of creation.

The Chronicler’s genealogical prologue works for his audience because they have been initiated into the shared secret of the community of faith—covenant relationship with Yahweh, the covenant maker. They have also experienced the disruption of the Babylonian exile, as threatened by the prophets. For these reasons, they are in a position to embrace the “wisdom” of the Chronicler’s theology of hope rooted in God’s faithfulness over the course of their history as illustrated in the genealogical record. Appropriately, the Chronicler calls his contemporaries to respond to his “historical sermon” with praise and worship of the God of their Hebrew ancestors.

According to Brueggemann, the story of Israel’s redemption by Yahweh in the Exodus from Egypt is the “bottom line” of Hebrew education rooted in the truth of the Torah.34 As the foundation of Hebrew epistemology and the theological center of the Old Testament, the Torah is the religious primer for Hebrew children. Thus, they have no need to invent world-forming secrets, “but they are invited to share in a secret already trusted and relied upon.”35 That “secret” is the story of God’s power, justice, and grace in the Exodus from Egypt preserved in the Torah.

The parallels to the redemptive story of Jesus Christ as the “Passover lamb” for the church in the New Testament are patently obvious (cf. John 1:29; 1 Cor. 5:7). What better way to play to a postmodern audience craving some sort of highly personal yet deeply mysterious experience than inviting old and young alike to share in a tried and trustworthy secret taught through the medium of the biblical story of redemption?

Original Meaning

Judah to Hezron (2:3–8)

JUDAH WAS THE fourth son born to Leah, Israel’s (or Jacob’s, 2:1) first wife (Gen. 35:23). The Chronicler’s register of five sons born to Judah agrees with the lists found in Genesis 46:12 and Numbers 26:19–22. Both of those genealogies end with Hezron and Hamul, the sons of Perez. The Chronicler’s genealogy also places an emphasis on Perez and his son Ram, since they are ancestors of King David (cf. 1 Chron. 2:15).

Clearly the writer of Chronicles presupposes his audience’s familiarity with story of Judah’s marriage to the Canaanite woman named Shua, the tragic death of her first two sons (Er and Onan), and his eventual seduction by his own daughter-in-law Tamar (cf. Gen. 38). The Chronicler also seems to be aware of Jacob’s blessing of Judah as the tribe of the “scepter” since the royal family of David is the focal point of his genealogical record of Judah (cf. Gen. 49:10).

This brief portion of Judah’s family tree (2:3–4) contains a number of subtle theological ideas that become themes or motifs for the Chronicler’s genealogical prologue. For instance, the birth reports calling attention to the mothers of Judah’s sons (daughter of Shua, v. 3, and Tamar, v. 4) are a recurring feature of the genealogical prologue. The Chronicler effectively uses the birth report to promote his agenda of “inclusivism” in the face of the growing separatistic nationalism of the later postexilic period. This literary vehicle enables the Chronicler to give prominence not only to women in the genealogical prologue but also to non-Hebrew women like the Canaanite Shua, the Geshurite Maacah (3:2), or the Egyptian Bithiah (4:18).

As Selman has noted, these birth reports also allow the Chronicler to record God’s providential activity in mixed marriages (2:3; cf. 2:12, 17; 4:18). The Chronicler likewise anticipates the Matthean genealogy of Jesus Christ, which includes men and women and Jews and Gentiles, marking him as the true “Son of Man” (Matt. 1:2–16).5 Other theological themes embedded in this list of Judah’s sons include the demotion of the firstborn son (2:3; cf. 5:1), God’s just punishment of wickedness among the Hebrew people as his elect (2:3; cf. 5:26), and God’s faithfulness in sustaining the line of Judah (2:4; cf. 4:10).

The concluding section of this genealogical unit lists the descendants of Judah’s twin sons, Perez and Zerah (2:5–9). Implicit in the envelope construction that frames the section with the name of Hezron (2:5, 9) is the story of God’s election of the second-born twin Zerah (cf. Gen. 38:27–30). Four of Zerah’s sons, including Ethan, Heman, Calcol, and Darda, are identified as famous wise men (1 Chron. 2:6; cf. 1 Kings 4:31). It appears that both Ethan and Heman were associated with the temple musical guilds as well (Ps. 88; 89).

We know from Joshua (Josh. 7:1, 18) that Carmi was the son of Zimri (1 Chron. 2:6). The name Achar (2:7) is a wordplay on the word for “trouble” (Heb. ʿoker) and associates Achan with King Ahab as a “troubler of Israel” (Josh. 7:24–26; cf. 1 Kings 18:17). The term “violate” (Heb. maʿal, 1 Chron. 2:7) is often translated “unfaithful” in Chronicles (e.g., 5:25; 10:13; 2 Chron. 12:2; 29:6), and this unfaithfulness led to the Babylonian exile (2 Chron. 36:14). It is David, the son of Jesse, who will rise as the model of faithfulness to God and provide the ultimate solution to Israel’s maʿal.

Descendants of Ram (2:9–17)