Sermon preached by The Rev'd Nicholas Lang

St. Paul’s on the Green, Norwalk, Connecticut

The Fourth Sunday of Advent, December 23, 2007

In the Name of God who forever guides, nudges, and surprises us: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen..

There is a pithy declaration that has made its way into our vocabulary and I have heard it included more than once in sermons delivered at the ordination of deacons and priests: “It’s not about you!” In other words, your part in this is not all that important. I wonder if the writers of some of the Gospels did not have those words in mind for Joseph when they scripted the Christmas story.

In Luke’s narrative, the most popular and familiar, Mary is at the forefront. Only Matthew, whose text we hear in Year A of the three year cycle of the lectionary, includes anything about Joseph. Just think about religious art you have seen depicting the Holy Family or Nativity Scene. Joseph is portrayed as an old man in a brown homespun robe, often half asleep or lying on a mat in dream state. Sometimes Joseph isn’t even in the nativity scene at all or overshadowed by the cows and sheep and shepherds—appearing more like part of the scenery than an active participant in the holy drama. One congregation faced a dilemma when, on the night of the big Christmas pageant, the director came running to the pastor in the midst of costume-robed angels and kings and exclaimed, “We have no Joseph!” The boy who as to play this part was at home with a virulent stomach virus. His mother had just called to say he would not be here. The pastor said, “Well. Let some shepherd stand near the manger with Mary. Nobody will miss Joseph. He doesn’t even have a speaking part.”

Typically, we change to these lovely, mellow rose-colored vestments on this fourth Sunday of Advent to honor Mary and her Annunciation, the event which the Gospel on that Sunday usually tells. Not today. No, today we honor poor old, forgotten Joseph and we wear these vestments of joy because, unlike, the cliché, it was very much about him. We hear of another annunciation in today’s Scripture but Mary is not in this act at all. Joseph is stage center and heaven waits upon what this one conflicted man will do in response to the role he is asked to play in the drama of a divine birth.

To get a better grasp on the plot here, we might want to revisit the ethos of first century Palestine where it was the custom for parents to arrange the marriages of their children years before they actually got hitched. Mary and Joseph were “betrothed” which meant much more than our contemporary situation of “engagement.” Through betrothal, a woman was bound to a man through formal words of consent. Even though she did not live with the man, she was viewed by society as his wife. It could be years before the bride moved into the home of the groom, at which time the marriage ceremony took place and it is in this interim period—somewhere between betrothal and marriage—where Joseph and Mary are in this Gospel story.

However, there was a huge fly in the ointment—Mary’s announcement that she was pregnant, albeit by the Holy Spirit. Now Joseph is faced with the dilemma of dealing with what his family and other villagers will perceive as adultery because the couple had not had any physical relationship with each other. Jewish Law demanded that the men of the village take such an unfaithful woman to the entrance of her father’s house and stone her to death. But Joseph was a decent, kind man and could never have allowed sweet young Mary, his betrothed, to be killed. He would, instead, quietly terminate the contract of this betrothal and let Mary slip away in the night to get on with her complicated new life.

Once again, God intervenes and, as is often the case, through a dream. The way Matthew tells it, everything hangs on what Joseph decides to do. If he believes the angel, the show goes on. Mary will have a home and a family and Jesus will have a foster daddy. If, on the other hand, Joseph does not believe, then the curtain comes down before the drama has a chance to open in Bethlehem. Mary becomes an outcast, is stoned to death or, at the very least disowned by family and forced to eke out a meager living for herself and her illegitimate child.

We know the happy ending. Joseph listened to the angel and believed but, as romantic as this all sounds, the reality is that his leap of faith came at great cost to him and meant that he entered into Mary’s disgrace. There are hints in the Gospel that Jesus was always regarded by his townsfolk as illegitimate, so this holy family may have had a difficult life. It is no wonder that the angel told Joseph not to be afraid.

There is an interesting postscript in the story. Matthew tells us that Joseph had no marital relations with Mary until after Jesus was born. So there was no opportunity for him to fib and tell people that Jesus was his own. The truth was stark and clear and Joseph saw it every time he looked at Jesus: this was God’s Son and everyday would be a reminder of this seemingly impossible thing he had been asked to believe that night in the dream. But believe he did, and it made all the difference in—and for the world—and changed the course of history.

This Gospel may seem like a Christmas story and a good preview of what we will hear when we gather on Christmas Eve, but the heart of this story is found in the love and faithfulness of a good, faithful man who wakes up one day to find his life looking more like a train wreck: his betrothed is pregnant and not by him, he thinks his trust was betrayed, his name has been tarnished, his future turned upside down. Yes, Joseph, it is about you.

Can any of you relate here? Have we all not been presented with circumstances beyond our control, with lives we may not have chosen, tempted to walk away from some facet of our life that we never bargained for? When have you been cast in the role of poor Joseph—wondering which end was up? You made your plans and had a real clear idea of how things would work out when, kaboom, all of a sudden you find yourself presented with a situation you did not choose, overwhelmed with a dilemma of circumstances you never factored into the equation, and living life very differently from the way you had in mind. “How did I ever get here?” you might ask.

And, what’s more important, “How the heck do I get out?”

Those are the times to remember this story and poor Joseph and to be aware that dreams are an important channel of God’s communication system with us. Don’t be surprised if, when you are nearly exhausted from the way your mind is spinning and, weakened by the unwanted circumstances you face, your fatigue allows you to sleep and to dream…to hear God’s angelic messenger…and to listen…”Do not be afraid.” God is with you and as close as your own heartbeat. This may not be the life you had planned, but God will be born in this mess, just as he was in the chaos of a smelly stable in Bethlehem…if you will permit it.

You see, God’s “Yes” depends very much on our own. Certainly there will be circumstances in life from which we may need to divorce ourselves. God does not want us to live with abuse or complete and debilitating dysfunction; nor does God want our spirits to be crushed under the heavy weight of some huge millstone. But, when it comes to the ordinary mess of our lives, if we are willing to believe the seemingly impossible, willing to claim the mishigos as our own, accept the whole ugly tangle, cradle it in our arms, nurture it, and give it a new name and a new life, God can, no God will, create something good, even something wonderful where we were able to see only the wreckage and debris. Very few of us ever get the life we have planned, but if we will be open to hearing God’s dream for us, if we will permit it to unfold, God can be born here too. Oh, yes, sometimes it is about you.