A War Cry: Joseph and Family - Matthew 1:18-25
Almost
every family has one. The family
gathers, and there they are. They
couldn’t stay at home, you couldn’t not invite them (well you could, but then
there’s all the disruption that would cause in and of itself—there’s the whole
thing of not letting the rest of the world know about that person and your
family’s problem with them). So they
show up…and it’s clear to everyone there that you really don’t want them
around. If there’s a meal, they don’t
get to sit at the main table (or if they do, the hosts have already worked out
ahead of time who has to sit beside them).
When they walk into a room, the conversation completely grinds to a halt
(most likely because the conversation was about how everyone couldn’t believe
they had the nerve to show up, considering what they had done). Maybe they rang your doorbell this past
Thursday. Maybe you were the one ringing
the doorbell.
We
are in week three of our “A War Cry” journey, as we consider the signs of God’s
declaration of war that we call Christmas—the ways in which God entered the
darkness of our world in the Christmas story to battle and overcome sin and
death. We have been examining the key
elements of the nativity to better understand the role they played in God’s
plan. We began with not a person, but a
place—Bethlehem. We learned that
contrary to being just a sleepy little suburb of Jerusalem, that Bethlehem
holds great significance in the history of God’s people—from being the burial
location of Jacob’s favored wife, Rachel—to being the central location stories
of idolatry, butchery, and death in the time of the Judges—to being the home of
Naomi as she returned to Israel after losing her husband and two sons—to being
the hometown of King David though even that story reflects humanities tendency
toward prejudice. The significance of
Bethlehem’s selection as the birthplace of the Son of God is that there is no
place too dark for God to enter in, no place so filled with sin that God won’t
enter in—and that through the manger, cross, and empty tomb, God has entered
into battle and won the war.
Last
week, we considered Mary. We delved into
the world of honor and shame that was part of the culture of Mary and Joseph’s
time. We considered that because of that, that Mary may not have eagerly agreed
to God’s request through Gabriel, but knowing that she risked becoming an
outcast from her family, and even being stoned to death by her family and the
community, with trembling and hesitation, Mary agreed to join God’s cause. Mary willingly agreed to be part of God’s
plan to liberate His people and all the world from the injustices of those
living under the consequences of sin and evil.
With that consent, Mary entered into the darkness of the first Christmas
story. She was forced to flee her home, heading at first to spend the first
months of her pregnancy with her cousin Elizabeth, in the midst of her own
miraculous time of expectation. After
Elizabeth gave birth to John, Mary went to live with Joseph as they quickly moved
up their wedding date, moving from engaged to betrothed.
Today,
we enter further into the darkness and danger of the nativity story, as we move
from considering Mary to considering the man who would agree to be Jesus’
earthly father. In our reading this morning, we read that Joseph was a
righteous man. This meant that Joseph felt bound by the Law of his faith. He sought to please God by living a life that
would be obedient to God’s expectations. What we don’t read is that Joseph,
being a grace-filled man, resolved to dismiss Mary quietly. However that is
exactly what we can gather from that statement in Matthew. Being part of that
honor driven culture, Joseph could have, within his rights, been the first to
call for Mary’s death. Her pregnancy was a smack in the face to his reputation.
Yet, we read that he planned to dismiss her quietly-simply having them part and
go their own separate ways. He could not just ignore it and go own with their
relationship—that would cause him to look like he disregarded or even had
contempt for the Law. So, to maintain his image, and treat Mary as kindly as
possible, Joseph decides to dismiss her. However, no sooner than he makes this
decision, God, as He did with Mary, sends Joseph an angel. The angel invites Joseph to volunteer for
service in God’s Christmas campaign: “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. She will bear a son, and you are
to name him Jesus, got he will save his people from their sins.”
The
dream through which the angel spoke had a powerful impact on Joseph, because he
woke up, and without hesitation took Mary to be his wife. This cannot have been
an easy choice for Joseph. It had the potential to cost him dearly. It could
have a significant professional and financial impact on him. With his reputation of being an upstanding,
faithful man tarnished by the appearance of having taken an unfaithful wife,
folks would have looked elsewhere for carpentry or construction work-the idea
of boycotting a business you don’t agree with did not begin with the AFA’s
“Naughty and Nice List” for Christmas shopping. In addition, there was the
potential for personal loss as well. For Joseph to take Mary into his life and
his home would put Joseph to be ostracized by his family in the same way and
for the same reason as Mary was rejected, and if we turn to the Gospel of Luke,
and put out of our thinking the years of Christmas mythology we grew up with,
we will see that is likely what happened.
In those days a decree went out from
Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first
registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to
their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in
Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was
descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with
Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were
there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her
firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger,
because there was no place for them in the inn.[i]
Up
until the last few years, I have read and beard that text in much the same way
as many of us. The villain of the story is the uncaring innkeeper. He has all
his wealthy guests coming unto town and looks at this poor couple, with Mary
already in labor, and says I have no room, but I can put you out with the
livestock. What if I told you that if we look more closely at the biblical
text, we find a different villain, or set of villains, and a much more
heart-wrenching story.
Going
back to the Greek text we read that there was no room in the kataluma [kat·al·oo·mah]. The only other
place that word is used in the Gospel of Luke is when Jesus is having his
disciples go to prepare foe that final Passover meal. They were to go into Jerusalem, to a man’s
home, and ask him form the use of his kataluma,
his guestroom, or spare room. It was a
personal home, not Jerusalem’s Motel 6.
In contrast, when Luke relates Jesus’ Parable of the Good Samaritan, it
is to a pandocheion [pan·dokk·i·on],
an inn, he takes the injured victim.
What
difference does it make? Well, consider
where the Scriptures say that Joseph took Mary—because of the census, he was to
return to his hometown. Think about that, my brothers and sisters, you are
traveling with your pregnant wife, you are already struggling financially, due
to the “morality” boycott, where are you going to seek help, compassion, and a
place to stay? Not the Hilton, that was just a ways up the road in Jerusalem—if
you want think of what they would have found in Bethlehem, think of Bethlehem
as Swepsonville and Jerusalem as Burlington—but most likely you would go to a
relative’s home. While most of the
family has moved elsewhere or passed on, your Uncle Jacob is still in town and
he has a good sized home. You knock on
Uncle Jacob’s door and as he opens it, Mary lets out an agonizing,
contraction-induced groan. The
disapproving look on his face clearly lets you know that Mary’s reputation has
preceded y’all’s arrival. You ask for
compassion, for space in his home, for mercy for your wife…and are met with a
stare. His wife whispers to him, he
steps outside and motions for you to follow him. He leads you around to the back of the house,
and down the grade into the stable, and motions to the hay before turning away
and walking back into the house. Later,
Uncle Jacob’s wife comes, bringing some spare cloths, sheets that appeared to
be ready to be discarded, and said, “Joseph, even if things were right, even if
this was your child, you know we couldn’t have you in the house. All the blood, if she were to give birth in
that room where all of your cousins have come to stay for the census,
everything and everyone in there would be rendered unclean and we wouldn’t be
able to go to the synagogue on the Sabbath.”[ii]
Think
of the consequences that both Mary and Joseph would likely have endured. It is a lot different than much of the
pageantry we are used to…both rejected and cast aside by their families, and
possibly the greater community, all for agreeing to submit to God’s Will as God
sought to bring salvation to all the world.
As
we consider that, my friends, we have to stop and ask ourselves, where are we
in comparison? When God seeks our
enlistment in His service, what are we willing to risk, what are we willing to
endure?
Are
we willing to put our reputations in the community on the line? Maybe we’re asked to take a stand in our
community alongside those whose skin color is different, who don’t speak
English, whose legal citizenship is in question.
Are
we willing to put our financial stability at risk? Are we willing to run our business as Jesus
would have run them—ensuring fair wages, fair prices, ethical acquiring of the
resources we sell or provide, environmental care of the resources we
consume? Are we willing to make sure
that our financial investments, including our retirement, meet the same
standards—whether or not it limits or puts our investment at greater risk?
Are
we willing to alienate ourselves from our families? Are we willing to make our commitment to
worship, our commitment to study, our commitment to serve, and our commitment
to follow Christ ahead of even our families?
Are we willing to say to them, whether they are in our homes every day
or visiting from out of town, “I will be in worship today, I would love for you
to join me, but that is your choice?”
Will we say, “I am honoring the Sabbath, I will be learning in Sunday
School and worshiping with the congregation, not slaving over a hot stove, we
can enjoy sandwiches, soup, and conversation when we get back home”? Are we willing to commit fully to following
Christ, even if it means that our family will not take that walk with us and
choose to go a separate way?
My
brothers and sisters, as we continue to consider God’s War Cry, when He calls
on us to risk it all, as we fully enter into this Advent season where we not
only prepare to celebrate His birth, but also anticipate and prepare for His
return, where are we?
In
the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
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