The Fourth Sunday of Advent

We just heard how Joseph got the same peculiar news that the angel has announced to his fiancée, Mary, but the angel visits Joseph, not in the bright light of day, but rather when he jumps up in bed, in a cold sweat, to be told that Mary is pregnant, not by him, and that he is to accept Mary’s child as his own.

I’d like to imagine Joseph’s reaction to that. What might he have to say? Perhaps it would go something like this:

Let me introduce myself. My name is Joseph. I’ve been hanging around your celebration of Christmas for quite a while but I suspect you don’t know me too well. I feel sort of like the father of the bride at a wedding. Nobody pays much attention to him, but he gets to pay the bills.

My family is an old and honorable one. My ancestor was King David. I grew up in Bethlehem, but I moved to Nazareth where it was easier to make a living. I’m a wood worker. I build furniture, frame houses, and make tools for oxen.

Life was good for me in Nazareth. Just when I was thinking about getting married, I met Mary. She was about 15 years old then, just the right age for becoming betrothed. That’s like being engaged but it’s much more permanent.

The period of our betrothal was a time for our families to get to know one another and work out a dowry. It was also a time when I dreamed about building our home and the wonderful life we could have together. It’s strange how life can go sour.

One day I noticed that Mary had become quiet and withdrawn. Had I done something to displease her?  I begged her to tell me what was bothering her. She began to cry. “I’m pregnant,” she said. I could not believe my ears. I knew I was not the father. Who was? My dreams were shattered.

Finally, I got a grip. There was a more important issue than my own hurt feelings. The Law said that a woman found in adultery should be stoned to death. Even though Mary had traumatized my faith, still I loved her. I’d get her away to a safe place. I’d send her to her cousin’s in the south, to visit Elizabeth. Then I would give her a private divorce.

Can you imagine how conflicted Joseph must have been? Put yourself in his sandals. What would your reaction be if someone told you the story Mary told him? She was asking this kind, but simple man to believe the utterly impossible. He was a wood worker. Wood is honest. Wood has integrity. Joseph liked that—and he liked that in people as well.

After Mary left town, he walked around in a stupor. He tried to work but accomplished little. He barely ate. Then the dreams started. One night it was particularly vivid. He knew this was not just indigestion. It was for real. The angel spoke very clearly: “Joseph, don’t be afraid to take Mary for your wife. The child she bears is from the Holy Spirit. You will call his name Jesus and he will save his people from their sins.”

Joseph was the second person to hear the good news, the gospel, that God was moving to save the people through a child born to them, a child to be named Jesus. Typical of Joseph, this quiet, thoughtful man, he said nothing, at least nothing that we know of. In all of our encounters with Joseph in the gospel of Matthew, we never hear him say one single word. But, just imagine if he had…

So that’s my story.  I figured it would be rough going, but if God was in this mess, we would be able to handle it. As I told you, I’m a wood worker, not a theologian. I had no idea how wrong I could be…and to get through it all, I had to change my mind about a lot of the things I had believed previously…or couldn’t.

I’m not the main character here, but as you celebrate, you might want to remember in a corner of your mind that God chose me to be a part of it all—Joseph, a carpenter who believed as best he could. So, please, remember me when you see me in the crèche and maybe learn this from my story…

Perhaps learn that God chooses you and me to be a part of it all as well. The Creator can call upon us to do and believe some amazing things. Just like Joseph, you and I may be going about the ordinary things we do in life, passing the time in the sometimes-lackluster routine to which we have grown accustomed.

Then, out of the blue, God intrudes, comes upon us. And, like Joseph, we are called to follow the strange and unexpected arrangements to which God introduces us and wherever that might take us.

Agnes Sanford, the great teacher on healing and the spiritual life, used to say that “when God can’t get through to our soul any other way, when our conscious minds are closed to the murmuring of the Spirit, then dreams become the vehicle of moving us to another level.”

Pleasant Christmas Dreams, Dear Ones