19 December 2010
Isaiah 7:10-16; Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19; Romans 1:1-7; Matthew 1:18-25
“And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Matt 28:20b (the last word)
In life, in death, in life beyond death,
God is with us.
We are not alone. Thanks be to God.
--“A New Creed,” United Church of Canada, 1980
Today we have lit the candle of Love, and we have read and heard the story of the birth of Jesus, from Matthew’s point of view. Matthew’s birth narrative is much briefer than Luke’s; and where Mary is the focus of the birth narrative in Luke, in Matthew’s gospel Joseph plays the pivotal role.
Poor Joseph. In our crèche, his figure stands like an accessory to Mary, like Ken to Barbie. He is always in the background. In Catholic tradition, Mary becomes the Queen of Heaven, but Joseph, he is just a saint. Sure, he has a few hospitals and a children’s aspirin named after him, but there are few great works of art that focus on his love and care for the child. In Christmas pageants too, he gets few lines, if any. Stage direction: Joseph approaches Inn, knocks on the door. Enter innkeeper. Joseph: “Got a room?”
Because Matthew’s version of events is recorded so tersely, I believe an appreciation for Joseph requires some faithful, respectful, and I hope not too fanciful, expansion of the story. To be faithful to the time and place, we must set aside our modern, western notions of marriage. For most of the world, throughout much of history, marriage was considered far too important to be initiated by a boy and a girl. Marriage was arranged by elders and relatives who knew better. Joseph might not have even seen Mary before the betrothal ceremony, and may have had little contact with her after. The two ceremonies-- one for betrothal, when a woman was claimed by the husband’s family; and one for the marriage, when the man and woman began to live together as husband and wife—were separated by a sufficient amount of time (6 months or so) to confirm that the bride’s family was not trying to pass off “damaged goods.”
So, for Mary to turn up pregnant during this time is a grave dishonor, a shame upon Mary’s family, and upon Joseph’s too. All deals were off. Mary would not only have been disgraced, she could have been killed according to the law-- stoned to death as an adulteress.
That Joseph had resolved to dismiss her quietly shows that he is not only a righteous man (that is, a man who would not take an adulteress as a wife), his resolve to dismiss her quietly also shows that he is a compassionate man. This internal struggle, between righteousness and compassion, between the letter of the law and the spirit of the law, mirrors the moral struggles of the church to which Matthew addressed his gospel. And it foreshadows the teachings of Jesus, as recorded in the Sermon on the Mount: all those “you have heard that it was said” sayings that call us to go beyond the letter of the law, even to ignore the law, to be compassionate, as God is compassionate.
After he had resolved to do this, the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Do not be afraid.” This is the fulfillment of God’s promise—Emmanuel—God is with us. This is the beginning of the Gospel, and this is the end: Emmanuel, God is with us. Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.
When when Joseph awoke from his dream, the pathway was clear. Confronted with the law, torn between obligation and compassion, Joseph, emboldened by the promise of God’s presence, chose compassion. So may we all.
