Scripture:
The well-known Messianic prophecy from Isaiah which I am about
to read is really about divine signs of salvation in the midst
of times of siege. King Ahaz is hold up in Jerusalem, which
is about to be taken by a coalition army from the north. His
troops are eating their last rations before starvation sets
in. In the midst of this war-weary, starving world, the prophet
Isaiah proclaims that a young woman will give birth, and the
child will be called God with us. We who take this prophecy
as a Christmas message can learn yet again that no matter
how difficult our situation may seem, God is born to us. I
read from the 7th chapter of Isaiah, verses 10-16:
Again the LORD spoke to Ahaz, saying, [11] Ask a sign of
the LORD your God; let it be deep as Sheol or high as heaven.
[12] But Ahaz said, I will not ask, and I will not put the
LORD to the test. [13] Then Isaiah said: "Hear then,
O house of David! Is it too little for you to weary mortals,
that you weary my God also? [14] Therefore the Lord himself
will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child
and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel. [15] He
shall eat curds and honey by the time he knows how to refuse
the evil and choose the good. [16] For before the child knows
how to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land before
whose two kings you are in dread will be deserted.
How does the Christmas story appear from Joseph's view? No
journey from Nazareth, no rejection at the inn. Only dreams
which inspire obedience. Like King Ahaz, Joseph also faces
difficult circumstances. Yet in the midst of Joseph's conundrum,
God enters in. Hear the Good News as proclaimed by Matthew
in chap. 1, verses 18-25:
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. [19] Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man
and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to
dismiss her quietly. [20] 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. [21] She will bear a son, and you are to
name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins."
[22] All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by
the Lord through the prophet:
[23] "Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and they shall name him Emmanuel," which means, "God
is with us." [24] When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did
as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his
wife, [25] but had no marital relations with her until she
had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.
SERMON:
Advent is a season which tempts the preacher with an array
of themes. It also presents us with some of the most interesting
characters in scripture. My sermon this morning lifts up one
of the least developed figures in the New Testamen t. It is
called "Joseph's Choices."
Looking at all the advertisers in the paper, adorned with
Christmas colors and comments, I found myself edging toward
the unfamiliar posture of cynicism. Is it that the good news
of the birth of Christ is so overwhelmingly attractive that
it has drawn our entire society into its whirl? Religionists,
atheists, and everyone in between make their pilgrimages to
mall after mall, searching for the perfect gift: teetering
between the warmth of giving driven by love and the emptiness
of conjuring presents to fulfill expectations. This is our
national ritual. And it's so powerful that people of all faiths
get caught up in it.
As many of you know, I'm not a big fan of our culture's attempts
to have religion on its terms. What troubles me is the way
in which society invariably strips from religion its depth
of symbol and meaning, preferring a much simpler message.
Christmas is reduced to giving and receiving. The real meaning
goes a little deeper.
I'm reminded of an article from the Boston Globe (1) a few
years ago about Emmanuel Episcopal Church on Newbury Street.
Emmanuel is well known for what it calls its musical ministry:
each Sunday, the choir and orchestra perform an entire Bach
cantata. In 1977, Emmanuel became the first institution in
America to complete the Bach cycle. The new rector, it seems,
while having nothing against the music and its role in worship,
believes that there is more to worship than Bach. And so he
found himself to be in trouble -- and the trouble was not
a quiet matter, having received prominent attention in the
Globe. In a comment that typified the dispute (and illustrates
the point I'm making) one of his parishioners complained to
the reporter that because of Father Kuhn, Emmanuel was becoming
too much like a church!
In a similar vein, C.S. Lewis writes to a friend how his
brother overheard a woman on a bus mutter, as the bus went
by a church with a crib out front: "Oh Lord! They bring
religion into everything. Look -- they're dragging it even
into Christmas now!"(2)
We need to acknowledge that because we live in this culture,
our understanding and experience of Christmas will at least
in part be shaped by these forces. But we who are willing
to claim the name of Christ as our own should be willing to
rediscover a more original source for our understanding of
the meaning of Christmas.
Perhaps this is not as easy as it sounds. Let's have a look
at Joseph. Joseph and Mary were engaged. In those days, to
be engaged was to be legally committed to one another -- the
same as marriage is today. The only difference is that during
the period of engagement, the couple would live apart until
the man had accumulated a dowry of appropriate size, and then
the man could take the woman to his home, and the husband
and wife could live together.
Into this peaceful and ordinary circumstance, the Holy Spirit
intrudes. God does the unexpected. Mary is found to be pregnant.
In Matthew's Gospel, the focus turns to Joseph. He has three
choices:
First: Joseph can accept Mary. However, this would invite
the reproach of the town for marrying an adulteress, or for
fornicating in advance of engagement.
Second: Joseph can expose Mary. Under Jewish law, this would
have meant that she would be stoned or strangled. But since
they now lived under Roman authority, instead, Mary would
be subjected to such shame and repudiation that she would
wish she were dead.(3)
Third: Joseph's final option is to quietly put an end to
their legal relationship by divorcing her. Unquestionably,
of the three choices, this represents the high road.
Notice that this is not a Win--Win, or even a Win--Lose decision.
This is a Lose--Lose--Lose decision. It is easy to imagine
the emotional exhaustion Joseph faced. Finally, he resolves
to divorce Mary quietly, and falls asleep.
Once again, God does the unexpected. In a dream, an angel
comes to Joseph and provides him with a rather extraordinary
birth announcement:
This child in Mary's belly is to be called "God with
us."
He was miraculously conceived by the Holy Spirit.
His name is divinely ordained: Joseph is to name him Jesus,
which in Hebrew is Joshua, which comes from the same root
as "save" and "salvation."
And like his namesake Joshua, this child's vocation is
to save. But whereas Joshua saved the Israelites from their
enemies, Jesus will save us all from our sins.
When Joseph awoke from his encounter with the angel, he obeyed
what he had been told. Although it is not recorded, surely
he was ridiculed and mocked. But his resolve was rooted in
his faith. It now became clear to him that his life would
never be the same. He had been drawn into a set of circumstances,
a circle of characters, whose lives were governed by divine
intervention. All he had ever wanted was to live his life
with Mary, the one he loved, and to have a family; to raise
his children and continue his work. Now he was getting much
more than he had bargained for. He had become a central figure
in the divine drama of salvation. As a faithful Jew, nothing
could thrill him more than the coming of the Messiah. But
to be cast as Jesus' foster father . . . that was a bit much!
Joseph and Mary: both pioneers. They were the first ones
to receive the Christmas message. Joseph could have chosen
to laugh at the message of the angel, confident that his culture
was right, and that the Messiah would come as a triumphant
warrior to conquer the Roman occupiers. But instead, he accepted
God's message.
Joseph could have chosen to preserve his own reputation when
he learned that Mary had become pregnant, and thus would have
followed the practice of his culture. But instead, he obeyed
the Angel's commands.
Joseph could have chosen to hold tight to his dreams which
he saw being shattered right before his very eyes -- to try,
through some desperate measure, to preserve his plans. But
instead, he abandoned the only future he had known, and turned
himself over to God.
In these ways we are given clues about what is asked of us
if we seek to receive the Son of God at Christmas. We are
asked to be open to the intrusion of the Holy Spirit in our
lives. We are told that we should not hold on to nostalgic
notions of holidays that might have been -- but that we should
open ourselves to receive the saving, in-breaking energy of
hope that will lead us to new horizons. And in these ways,
we learn that our salvation shall come in a way which we do
not expect, and that our culture does not lead us to expect.
The God who prepares Joseph and Mary to be parents -- the
God who loves us enough to come and be with us, as one of
us, so that we might all be saved -- this God of ours, if
anything, is unconventional. And if we want to encounter our
God -- like Mary and Joseph -- we shall have to extend ourselves
beyond conventional boundaries, beyond the familiar routines
we so love to repeat each holiday.
I want to share with you a Christmas story written by a recently
divorced mother of three named Bonnie Smith-Yackel. In it
-- as she describes how she got through the challenges of
a failed marriage, a debilitating illness, and an empty bank
account -- she shows the same open, trusting, creative spirit
exhibited by Joseph in response to his news. She calls her
story Gifts to Cherish.
Gifts to Cherish(4)
She knew that the last Christmas in the house where her three
children had grown up was going to be very difficult, and
she was sure it would be hard for the kids as well. Her divorce
was final, and in the spring (when her youngest son turned
eighteen) she would have to sell the house. She'd been too
ill to work that year, so there was no money to buy presents
for the kids. This troubled her greatly.
On Christmas Eve, the kids were scheduled to go to their
father's house where they would get presents from him. They
were then to come to her home where she would have nothing
for them. She thought and thought about what she could do.
Finally she hit on an idea. Why not give them things in the
house that meant a lot to her and to them as a family? Since
she was moving in the spring, this was an opportunity to go
through the house and pick out items that had particular meaning
for each child.
The first gift she thought of was for her daughter, and it
was an easy choice. Her daughter loved her mom's rosebud necklace
that once belonged to her grandmother; the beads of the necklace
were actually made from rose petals. For her oldest son she
chose a hand painted china cup and matching cake plate that
he especially liked. Her younger son longed for his grandmother's
collection of Indian head Pennies, and that seemed just right
for him. She then chose one more gift for each: a desk from
childhood, a 12 gauge shotgun, and a special pottery jar in
which they'd kept school lunch money.
Although She was sure the kids would like what she chose
for them, she wasn't yet satisfied. Something in the gift
idea was missing. Not until Christmas Eve, when the kids were
at their father's, did she come up with the idea that had
been eluding her. Just giving them gifts was okay, but a treasure
hunt would be so much more fun. She quickly hid the gifts,
then wrote the clues needed to find them.
y
When the kids arrived later that evening, she gave them their
clues and the search was on. Her daughter's clue led her to
the Christmas tree and the inside of an ornament where she
found the rosebud necklace. Her older son's clue led him to
the china cabinet. And this -- the only clue she remembered
in its entirety -- led her younger son to a spider plant,
hanging from the ceiling:
Grandma scrimped and squirreled away
pennies for a rainy day.
Now yours to keep where 'ere you rove,
a spider guards this treasure trove.
Later in life, with her children grown, she loved to visit
them in their homes, and see the gifts which she turned over
to them on that Christmas she had no money. It gave her great
satisfaction to know that her children cherished these things
that are part of their past and hers.
In a terrible year of emotional devastation and financial
demise, Bonnie Smith-Yackel learned that she had everything
she needed to assure those she loved how much she loved them.
A long time ago, in a non-descript year in which the Roman
occupation of Palestine continued, a struggling carpenter's
future was shattered when he learned that his betrothed was
pregnant. Yet, in the midst of this wreckage, Joseph paid
attention to God, and discovered that he was being given everything
he needed to play a unique role in the divine drama of salvation.
Let us learn from these messengers. Amidst those parts of
our lives that aren't what we would wish, let us abandon those
wishes so that we can be open to the hope that we can receive
when we pay attention to God. Every day, the extraordinary
is breaking in on us. But it doesn't come with the flash of
a new Nintendo laser gun. It comes in the most ordinary form
-- like an ordinary baby, born as a refugee, with none but
a foster father. Let us open our lives to these extraordinary
moments, for in them lies our salvation. Amen.
Footnotes:
1. The Boston Globe, December 9, 1992; pp. 47, 51
2. C. S. Lewis, Letters to an American Lady, December 29,
1958, p. 80.
3. Bruce Vawter, Proclamation 3, Fortress Press; p. 33.
4. "Gifts to Cherish" by Bonnie Smith-Yackel, in
Ron DelBene's Christmas Remembered, pp. 103f. The text as
presented is edited to be read in the third person.