Christ had the name Jesus given to him, because he was to save the people from their sins; and no [one] can truly and livingly know the name Jesus, further than [one] feels the saving virtue of it; but [one] that effectually feels the virtue, [that one] indeed knows the name, and can bow at the name, feeling [one’s] lusts and enemies bowed under by the power thereof, and that raised up in [oneself], which can worship the Father in the Spirit and in the truth. —Isaac Penington

Questions: What does Joseph’s story tell us about what it looks like to live righteously? Have you ever had a dream or vision where you heard God? What does the story of the magi teach us about political authority?

Matthew’s gospel launches with a laundry list of prominent family members in the lineage of Jesus. The first few chapters continue, highlighting the names of various prophets who foretold—and political figures who sought to foil—the coming of the Messiah. All these names root the story in the very real soil of human history. By being mentioned in this way, we can learn more about each one, what they did, and remember they matter in the telling of the story.

Quakers, as much as any faith community I have encountered, love to recount our history. Many of us are fascinated with the exploits of earlier Friends who made their mark on our community. Whether it is Fell, Fox, Fry, Woolman, Dyer, Gurney, Hicks, or a more modern Friend, it is easy to find a Quaker who is happy to tell you the names of those whom we remember, those who matter in the telling of our story.

Matthew’s gospel also mentions magi. We do not know exactly who they are, or really anything about them, but they are crucial to the story. In essential ways, these traveling gift-givers listen and faithfully respond to God’s active voice in their lives and life together, doing what God asks, when God asks. We never know their names, but what they did and who they were matter to the story.

Over the years, I am less enamored with past or current Quakers who are well-known, though I remain appreciative of their witness and example. Instead, it is the “nameless” ones who labor in the shadows, rather than in limelight, whom I most admire. Without fanfare or recognition, they faithfully respond to God’s active voice in their lives, doing what God asks, when God asks. And by doing so, they make a crucial difference in our story.

–Colin Saxton in “Friendly Perspective” from Matthew: The Life of Jesus