Matthew's Joseph

 

Matthew 1:18-23

 

        Christmas time is upon us. The air is filled with the sounds and smells of the holidays. I was reading a list of the top 75 Christmas songs in America.  Silent Night, the highest “religious” song listed, did not make the top 15. I found this a bit disturbing. Then the more I thought, the more sense it made. The meaning of Christmas has been forgotten and we are pretty much responsible. This transformation began when we homogenized the Christmas story.

        Of the four Gospels, Mark was the earliest. Influenced by the Apostle Paul, Mark proclaimed Jesus to be the Messiah, the one ordained to usher in the Kingdom of God. The gospel is filled with urgency yet short on specifics. Matthew and Luke were written to fill in the missing years.

Filling in these gaps became a bit problematic when it came to the birth and resurrection of Jesus. Both Matthew and Luke agree Jesus was born; both agree Jesus was resurrected; yet neither find much commonality in the details. We are given two distinctively different Christmas stories.  Matthew, the church builder, portrays Jesus as the new Moses. Luke, the protector of the poor, identifies Jesus as the new David. As these two remarkable stories are told and retold, stars and angels, sheep and camel, wise men and shepherd are conveniently crowded into a stable crafting a standardized story neither Matthew or Luke would have recognized. We have softened the narrative into a gentle tale which has become the prelude to our winter solstice celebrations. This was never the intention of either author. Each story uniquely rang out against the darkness declaring God is doing a new thing.

        This week I want us to look at Matthew’s portrayal of Joseph.    What we have is a successful business man in the town of Bethlehem. He is highly regarded among his peers and an active participant in the local synagogue. He can trace his genealogy through David all the way back to Abraham. He has a nice home and was courting a wonderful young girl who would make any mother proud. And then it happened. Mary became pregnant.  

        The first chapter of Matthew centers on this development. This book was written for a Jewish audience who were now Christian. They knew Mosaic Law. If a woman becomes pregnant outside of marriage she could be banned from the community or in extreme cases, stoned. The fate of Mary rested in the hands of Joseph. In order to stay betrothed to her, Joseph would have to break from the wisdom of the Law of Moses. 

        I can imagine Joseph saying to himself,

I always wanted a son,

Someone to carry on the family tradition,

Someone who loves wood as much as I,

Someone with the imagination to see and create.

        Someone with whom I could work side by side.

But now, what am I to do?

I always wanted him a son, but I wanted him to be mine.

I hoped for a family but I wanted it to be my family.

I am told he is God’s son.

I am told this will be good for God’s family.

And I am supposed to understand all of this!

I’ve  always hoped for the Messiah,

        Almost as much as I’ve hoped for a son of my own.

(Stop)

        Matthew’s gospel appears to ask the impossible. Remember those wonderful scenes in “Fiddler on the Roof” where Tevye sings about tradition. Everything he knows to be right and honorable is being turned upside down. Likewise, if Joseph takes Mary as his bride he risks losing his community. If he takes Jesus as his son, will it be an act of faith or delusion? All Joseph has is his tradition. All Joseph loves is found in Bethlehem. All he worships is discovered in the Torah. Listening to a vision, believing in Mary, would mean giving everything up.

        That’s the Christmas story we find in Matthew. The people who first read this story understood it. Before turning to Christ, like Joseph they had been respectable members of a community. They went to the synagogue faithfully. But overwhelmed by a story, a promise, a vision of the grace of God, they rejected their past traditions. They longed for a new law, a new covenant, a new heaven here on earth. Becoming Christian was a choice that meant hardship. It was a choice that meant persecution. But it was a choice that meant “L’Chaim” ….. Life.

        Imagine Joseph sitting in his shop, looking at a piece of wood as if that object held all the answers. 

Do I love her? With all my heart!

        Do I believe her? With all my soul!

                But my mind is still confused.

I am a simple man and this is no simple matter.

If I choose her, then will God also choose me?

I am not worthy,

        I work with my hands,

                I take what is broken and make it whole.

                        Why choose me?

Do I love her? With all of my being!

        Do I love God?

                Well, I fear God.

                        I worship God.

                                Sometimes I avoid God.

                                        But do I love God……. 

I honestly don’t know.

I can love Mary’s child,

        But can I love God’s child?

All I can do is show him how to take something broken….

                                        And make it whole.

       

What does one do when confronted by God?

Do we walk away pretending not to hear?

Do we weigh what we thought we heard against the wisdom of more rational voices?

Do we talk it out with others hoping they will bring us to our senses?

Do we remember Joseph?

In the midst of doubt and suspicion, Joseph silently made a leap of faith.

In a world with too little laughter, Joseph silently performed an act of joy.

In a community filled with fear and distrust, Joseph silently believed.

In a time when hate snuffed out all light, Joseph silently lit a candle.

This Christmas let the light of Christ expose your traditions, you fears, your inhibitions, your yesterdays.

Let the light of Christ shine through you, exposing the doubt and dismay that troubles any wounded heart.

Let this Christmas be your transformation toward a new heaven and earth.                       L’Chaim!        Amen.