December 18, 2022
Advent 4
William G. Carter
Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet: “Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,” which means, “God is with us.” When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.
Christmas is a week away. It’s time to talk about a birth. There is a baby about to be delivered. Excitement is building. Anticipation is high. It is a time that comes with a high concentration of hormones and anxieties. So I’ve been thinking about some of the things people say during a pregnancy.
- Here come the
experienced adults. With a broad smile, they say, “Congratulations!” Then with
a smirk they add, “Oh, how your life is going to change.” They giggle and
walk away, harboring a sinister secret for the uninitiated.
- “Get caught up on your sleep now. You’ll never going to get any sleep for the first six months.” Not helpful, even if there’s a shred of truth.
- “Is it a boy
or a girl? What do you mean that you don’t know? What do you mean that you
do know?”
- “Can we hope the child looks more like the mother than the father?” I’ve heard somebody say that.
- “Could you
use my daughter’s rocking horse? We wanted to give it away after she fell off
and hurt herself.”
- “Have you put safety plugs in all your outlets? Gates on all your stairways? Doorknob covers on your doors?” Words guaranteed to give comfort to new parents.
Of special notice are the foolish things said by men in particular. I remember from first-hand experience that men can be a bit detached from the pregnancy process. We are often stunned in wonder or captive to confusion. Sometimes we say something that puts our lives at risk, especially if addressing our wives.
- He said to
her, “There’s no way you can be so sick so early on.” She said, “Watch
your shoes.”
- He said to
her, “Don’t say you’re pregnant. We are pregnant.” She said, “No, it’s all
me.”
- He said to
her, “It’s like you’re getting bigger every day.” She replied, “That’s how
it works.”
- He said to
her, “No, honey, the pregnancy is not making you fat. You were already a
little bit large.”
- He said to her, “How soon after this kid can we start on the next one?” She gave him a black eye.
And there’s this comment, as thoroughly human as all the others: “What do you mean you’re having a baby? You know it isn’t mine.” We say all the pious words we wish, but that brings us right to the dilemma that Joseph was facing.
In matter-of-fact speech, Matthew declares, “She was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit.” I don’t want to ask how that determination was made. I don’t want to know. The woman to whom he was engaged was probably a young teenager, barely of childbearing age. No doubt she had been kept under the watchful eye of her parents. Quite possibly their marriage had been arranged for them. They were children of villagers in northern Galilee. They did not have a lot of options.
Now, Matthew has already hinted that the pregnancy will be unusual. On the first page, he says, “Let me tell you about the genesis of Jesus Christ.” By “genesis,” he means the origin. The beginning. So he recites the genealogy and goes back all the way to Father Abraham. It seems orderly enough, reciting father after father, until he mentions a woman - Tamar – who had an illegitimate child. And then he cites Rahab the prostitute, and Ruth, the Moabite great-grandmother of King David. And then of King David’s eight wives, he singles out Bathsheba, the mother of Solomon, and refers to her as “the wife of Uriah.” That was a painful episode in the royal history.
Clearly, Matthew is signaling that the birth of Jesus will be an unusual birth. If you know the royal line through David, if you research any of our family trees, there are curiosities even in the ancestries of those who profess to be pure. In his veins, Jesus has Canaanite blood from Rahab and Moabite blood from Grandma Ruth. He is a descendent of illegitimacy through Tamar and Bathsheba.
But none of this is a comfort to Joseph, the woodcutter from Nazareth. He tosses and turns all night, wondering what he shall do. A child is coming to his fiancée Mary. He had nothing to do with it. It’s a miracle, as every child is a miracle. It’s a gift from the Holy Spirit, as every baby is a gift from the Holy Spirit. But he is not ready to handle the scandal, especially in a small town where everybody talks. He worries if they are talking already.
So he tosses and turns. What should he do? Matthew calls him “a righteous man.” That is, he will live by the Law of God. The scriptures teach him how to live and what to do. One of the texts is clear: Deuteronomy, chapter 22. To paraphrase it, if a man discovers his fiancée is pregnant by somebody other than him, she is to be taken out and stoned to death in front of the people. The impurity must be purged from the community.
But then, the Bible also includes the Word of God through the prophets. One of those prophets was Hosea, a holy man who married a woman who was continually unfaithful. The Word from the prophet was also clear: “I desire mercy, not sacrifice (6:6).” This was the Word to a community beset with impurities. Mercy, that’s what God wants.
So he wrestled with this, night after night, tossing and turning, bouncing one Bible text off the other. On the one hand, God said, “You are to be holy as I am pure (Lev. 11:44).” On the other hand, “You shall love the neighbor as yourself (Lev. 19:19).” This is how Jewish theology is worked out, by the way. You wrestle with the holy texts until they wound you and bless you. This is what Joseph does until he reaches his decision. He will dismiss Mary quietly. He will refuse to expose her or demean her. He will not allow her to face scorn or shame; with a baby, she will have enough to handle.
There. Done. Settled. Decision is made. Time to move on.
Except that it’s not settled at all. The very night he has reached his decision, he falls fast asleep. And we can expect there was even more tossing and turning. While he sleeps, the angel of God speaks to him in a dream. “Joseph, don’t be afraid.” What? How did the angel know? “Joseph, do not fear taking Mary as your wife. The child does indeed originate through the Holy Spirit.” What? How can this be?
And then the angel says two things more: the child will be a boy and his name shall be Yeshua – Jesus – a name that means “salvation.” For he will “yeshua” his people from all their sins. Jesus shall grow into his name. He will save.
No doubt all of
that is a lot to process during a deep night’s sleep. But all that tossing and
turning opens the way to a new resolution. Plan A was the Deuteronomy Plan, to
remove the impurity of an unexpected pregnancy. Plan B was the Hosea Plan, to
show compassion and deep, faithful mercy. The angel opened the way to Plan C,
to welcome the child as his own, to take Mary as his wife, and to build a life
together that Joseph could never have imagined.
Once again, Joseph’s character is revealed. He is a righteous man, and his righteousness goes deeper and wider than an approach to the Bible that is as wooden as the timbers in his carpentry shop. It is the very righteousness that his adopted son Jesus will grow up to teach and practice.
For the day will come, some thirty years later, when Jesus will teach on the mountain, “Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you shall not enter the Kingdom of God.” Then he offers these examples:
- If a Roman
soldier says, “Carry my pack a mile, carry it two miles. Take charge by
going further.”
- If someone
slaps you on the cheek, take initiative by offering the second cheek.
- If the Torah
says, thou shall not kill, I say don’t even insult your neighbor.
- If common sense tells you, hug your friends and push away your enemies, I tell you to love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.
Let your righteousness go higher. And if the Words of Jesus challenged us to go further, the actions of Jesus turned his words into flesh. It is written in the Bible, “Don’t touch a leper” – and Jesus touched a leper in order to heal him. The Bible said, “Steer clear of sinners” – and Jesus invited himself to share meals with them. The Bible said, “Stop work on the Sabbath” – and Jesus labored tirelessly to preach, teach, and heal on the Sabbath. Maybe he picked up this attitude from Joseph and how Joseph treated his own mother.
As somebody notes,
“Joseph is a good man… He loves his Bible and he knows his Bible... But he reads his Bible through a certain kind of lens, the lens of the character and nature of a God who is loving and kind. Therefore he says, “I will not harm her, abuse her, expose her, shame her, ridicule her, or demean her value, her dignity, or her worth. I will protect her.” Where does it say that, Joseph? It says that in the very nature and character of God.”[1]
Little did we
know: the tossing and turning of Joseph had become an introduction of what it
means to live by faith. Not a flimsy faith that hides behind religious rules
without working through their contradictions. Not a cardboard faith that
attempts to put on a good appearance without the character to back it up. Not the
plastic faith that has no substance and therefore no compassion. But a real
faith that lives and wrestles – and ultimately listens for what God is doing in
the midst of our lives. This is what matters most of all.
Long after Joseph
is out of the picture, Matthew surveys the ancient scrolls of scripture. He
finds where the prophet Isaiah wrote of “a young maiden” who conceives a son
whose name becomes “God with us.” Working backwards, he can say, “We know now
who that is.” And he will even report Jesus saying in the power of his resurrection,
“I am with you always.” (28:20). All this
is true: Jesus is God with us, still with us, always will be with us.
But for Matthew,
it all begins with a woodcutter who learns his beloved Mary has been chosen to
bear a son. It is not an easy discovery for him, for they are not yet married. Yet
he will listen to the Voice of God, spoken through an angel. He chooses to take
that child as his own. And we can take him as our own, too. This is Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us, and he
will save us from our sins.
(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.
[1] Fred Craddock, The Cherry Log
Sermons (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press) p. 5.
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