“....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…’” — Matthew 1
A little over a week
ago, the kids got their parts for the Christmas Pageant. One little girl, about seven years old, came
back to her mother, and her mother asked what part she got. The little girl very seriously replied, “Head
Angel,” and then victoriously pumped both her hands up in the air and said, “Whut!
Whut!”
Ninja Shepherds |
Of course, the most
coveted role is that of Mary, but there are a number of other choice
roles. Being a shepherd is cool among
the boys. You get to dress kind of
raggedy, and you get to walk with those shepherds crooks which both make you
feel a little bit like a bishop, and yet should the need arise… you could be a
ninja. That is, of course, one of the
greatest challenges of Christmas pageants — keeping the shepherds from going
ninja. It’s great if you get to be one
of the three Kings. You get to dress up
like royalty and carry rich gifts for the baby Jesus.
Even some of the
minor roles are pretty exciting: Getting to go about on all fours and baa like
sheep, getting to be Mary’s faithful donkey, or even one of the cows. In more extravagant productions, a role as one
of the three camels of the Magi might be available — now that’s a role that
carries automatic prestige.
Poor Joseph! |
But there’s one role
in the Christmas pageant no one seems to be vying for… the part of Joseph. Is there any worse role in a Christmas
pageant than that of Joseph? Joseph
usually only gets to stand there. Sometimes
he’s the unlucky guy who gets to knock on the door of the inn only to find out
there’s no room.
Of the four Gospel
writers, only Luke and Matthew have birth narratives. Whereas Luke's story (Luke 1:5-2:20) focuses
on Mary, Joseph is the main character in Matthew's account. So, once every three years in our lectionary
we take out Joseph, dust him off, and he gets to take center stage.
And after reading
this account, we have to say Jesus' human dad was incredible! Can you imagine Joseph’s emotions just in one
night we read about in the gospel today?
He's gone from excitement about his pending marriage, to what had to be
a feeling of betrayal by his virgin bride and her father, to a hard decision to
end the farce engagement quietly.
It sounds like Joseph
loved Mary. Bare justice according to
the Old Law would have been to shame her publicly. But his regard for the law was balanced by a
sense of compassion that exemplified the higher values of the Kingdom that
would one day be proclaimed by his son. Grace
was at work in Joseph’s situation. In the midst of his grief, his inner turmoil
and probably his sleepless night, he must have finally dozed off, and God sent
an angel.
Now in our society,
angels are seeing as kind of fluffy things… kind little cherubs you glue to
your dashboard or put on Christmas trees.
But Scripture gives us another picture — especially of announcing
angels. In an article entitled, “The Truth About Angels in the Bible” Candida
Moss writes:
" ... The Angel Gabriel, best supporting actor of modern nativity plays, is less serene when he announces the birth of John the Baptist to Zechariah.
When Zechariah protests that he’s getting on a bit, Gabriel replies ‘I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. But now, because you did not believe my words … you will become mute, unable to speak, until the day these things occur.’
If you meet an angel, you should probably run. |
That’s how he delivers the good news. As the poet Rilke wrote, ‘Every angel is terror.’... If you’re looking for spiritual assistance then you should call a saint. If you meet an angel you should probably run.” — The Daily Beast (8/15/13)
But as Joseph
wrestled in his sleep, not knowing whether to follow his heart and take Mary to
be his wife, or to give in to his crushed honor, and divorce her, an angel came
— maybe it was Gabriel again who had also appeared first to Mary and Zechariah —
and gave him the strength to follow his heart.
And with Joseph's acceptance of Mary as his wife, he becomes Jesus’
adopted father, and makes him legally of the tribe of David. Though most of Joseph’s life goes unmentioned
in the Gospels, he carried out an astonishingly important task: He accepted and
raised the son of God.
Joseph reminds us of
how important dads are, but specifically dads who are vulnerable. Men are often taught to be tough and
invincible, but look at Joseph. Look at how vulnerable he made himself. He opened himself up to the ridicule of his
family and society. He took the word of
an angel who came to him in a dream. How
incredibly vulnerable Joseph was! But
also, how incredibly courageous! You
know, that’s what it takes to be courageous — the ability to be vulnerable.
Think about any act
of courage in your life or in the lives of others, and you will see that each
of these acts required a person to be incredibly vulnerable. And we hate to be vulnerable. We want to appear competent and able to handle
anything. Isn’t it funny that when we
meet someone new, the first thing we are looking for in another is that human vulnerability?
It tells me that you will understand me. But at the same time vulnerability is the
very last thing we want others to see in us.
When you have a
child, I think it is the most vulnerable can ever be. That little person has complete access to your
heart. More of us dads need to be like
Joseph… vulnerable… courageous.
We don’t hear much
about Joseph after the nativity stories, but there’s a lesson in that too. By raising Jesus, Joseph did a lot of
meaningful things without any fanfare. Joseph
surely deserves a lot of our respect, for without his gifts of hospitality,
acceptance, and love, the story of Christmas would have no beginning. And with these gifts, Joseph is a model for
all who are called by God to serve in supportive roles.
At the beginning of
this gospel Joseph was trapped as many of us sometimes are between what
appeared to be two equally bad choices: making a big scene about Mary and
publicly shaming her or ending the marriage contract privately. But because Joseph was the man he was —
vulnerable, courageous, open to God— he was able to find the third way. What surprises me about Joseph is that he
shifts from "binary thinking" to considering a third option: to take
Mary as his wife.
I wonder how often we
are caught in a two-sided ethical dilemma when God actually has a third way in
mind that has not occurred to us. So
many people nowadays have the tendency to think in terms of either–or. Sadly, it often takes the form of being the
kind of person who says, “It’s my way or the highway.” Even if we are not that arrogant, we
sometimes get stuck in the same kind of thinking in our own lives: “I’ll either
win or lose… I’ll get this great job I want, or I’ll give up… I’ll lose fifty
pounds this year, or just forget about it.”
Joseph allowed himself to be vulnerable enough to relinquish his own
plan for his life so he could respond to the spiritual reality that was
unfolding in the midst of this human drama.
Perhaps if we could unclench our fists around our plans… God could find
a third way for us. It’s scary being
vulnerable like Joseph, but it’s also the basis all great acts of courage.
We are so grateful that,
just like Mary, Joseph said, “Yes,” to the angel. There have been songs written about Mary
singing a lullaby to Jesus, like all mothers do to their sleeping babies. But a more recent poet, Ron Klug imagined
another lullaby —
one that Joseph sang long after Mary and the child fell asleep that silent
Christmas night...
Sleep now, little one.
I will watch while you and your mother
sleep.
I wish I could do more.
This straw is not good enough for you.
Back in Nazareth I'll make a proper bed
for you
of seasoned wood, smooth, strong,
well-pegged,
A bed fit for a carpenter's son.
Just wait till we get back to Nazareth.
I'll teach you everything I know.
You'll learn to choose the cedarwood,
eucalyptus and fir.
You'll learn to use the drawshave, ax
and saw.
Your arms will grow strong, your hands
rough - like these.
You will bear the pungent smell of new
wood
and wear shavings and sawdust in your
hair.
You'll be a man whose life centers
on hammer and nails and wood.
But for now,
sleep, little Jesus, sleep.
— Ron Klug,"Joseph's Lullaby," Decision, December 1973.
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