The Old South Church in Boston

In and Out with God


Sermon by Tadd Allman-Morton

December 26, 2004

Matthew 2: 13-22

Let us pray:
Beloved and eternal God,
May the meditations of all our hearts,
And the words of my mouth,
Be acceptable to you,
And may they all serve
To bring You greater glory.
Yet, even more God,
May we never fear to raise our voices to You,
Whether in love, or sorrow, or anger
So that in all we do,
In all our ins and outs,
We strive to keep You in our hearts,
And stay in relation to You.
In the name of Jesus Christ, and
Through the grace of the Holy Spirit

Amen.


We spend a lot of time during Advent and Christmas directing our attention to Mary and the Christ- child.  They are certainly figures who capture our imagination, and deserve attention for obvious reasons.  But, have you ever thought about what it must have been like to be Joseph?
We don’t hear too much about him.

The song that Jeanne sang earlier is hardly a staple in the usual Christmas fare.  It rather defines “obscure.”   In fact, it took an internet search for Gregory to even find it.  There are plenty of hymns where Joseph is mentioned in passing, but we don’t get to know him the way we do Mary.  Mary gets some wonderful moments throughout the Gospels.  She ponders things in her heart.  She speaks the poetry of the Magnificat.  She gets to talk with the Arch-Angel Gabriel face to face.

Mary is also a popular topic for a broad variety of artwork.  I’m sure you have noticed: there are, among others, depictions of the annunciation, paintings and sculptures of Mary’s sorrow at the crucifixion, and countless nativity scenes.  In those scenes, Mary is never too far from that sacred and beloved child and she shares in His radiance.

Where do we see Joseph in artwork?  Have you noticed the windows above the pulpit?
In the center of the circular windows is the Holy Family.  Unlike many depictions, Mary and Joseph are about the same distance from the Christ-child.  Mary’s robe touches Jesus and Joseph is maybe two steps further back.  Frequently, the distance between Joseph and Jesus is greater than that between Mary and Jesus.

As a young liberal arts student I saw a more dramatic illustration of that distance within the Holy family.  I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the artwork, but the image has had an enduring grip on my imagination.  It was carved into the corner of a medieval church made of stone and was a nativity scene set in the archetypal stable.  Mary and Jesus are in the center, of course, and they are surrounded by the usual animals, shepherds, and Magi, and above them the roof of the stable bears the star of Bethlehem. Joseph is outside, around the corner of the stable.
His arms are crossed, his brow is furrowed, and he is gazing upwards with a somewhat disgruntled expression, like this (imagine a frumpy look here).

It must not have been easy to be Joseph.  Being a step-dad has its complications even today, but being a step-dad to Jesus—that must have been work.  In addition, like all first century Palestinian Jews, Joseph was living in mixed and trying times.

On the one hand, his country had seen better days.  In the good old days it was independent, Holy to God, and its people lived in the hope of being a beacon to the nations, at least someday. But now, yet again, his homeland was occupied by a superpower.  It was a new superpower, Rome this time, but the basic story was the same: anyone who crossed the powers was put down, and put down hard.

True, the Romans weren’t exporting people from the homeland like the Babylonians, but they did invent the single most horrible way to kill trouble makers--namely, crucifixion.  All Jews lived under the shadow of the cross in those days—like every person in a country occupied by Rome-- especially if they resisted Roman authority.

On the other hand, Joseph had some advantages that many other Jews did not.  Recent archaeological evidence indicates that there was a big city a short walk from Nazareth , and that likely meant good business for carpenters.  Joseph was clearly doing well enough to take a wife, which meant he had some degree of prosperity if her parents agreed to the marriage.

There was also a way in which Joseph’s life was unusual: his beautiful young wife-to-be was suddenly pregnant before they began to live together.  Matthew’s Gospel tells us that Joseph, “being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.”

Whose disgrace was Joseph afraid of here: Mary’s or his own?  One verse prior we learn that Mary is pregnant with the Holy Spirit.    Joseph has this confirmed later in a dream sent by an angel of the Lord.  But initially, Joseph appears to have doubts about Mary’s faithfulness.
He is willing to quietly call things off; to walk away.  So, with whose disgrace is Joseph concerned?

In some ways it is easy to understand Joseph’s reluctance.  It is a perfectly natural reaction if your fiancé is pregnant and it wasn’t your child to think that it came about in the usual way.  So natural, in fact, that the author of Matthew emphasizes that Mary and Joseph had “no marital relations” until after “she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.”   Matthew needed to be perfectly clear there was no way that Jesus was the child of Joseph.  While the pagan cultures around Judea had many stories of gods begetting offspring with human women that idea did not have currency in Judea.  This was something unique and even sacrilegious-- and it must have taken some getting used to, for Joseph and for Mary.

Motivated by a dream sent by an Angel, Joseph did do the right thing and stand by Mary—eventually if not immediately.  It is the imperfection expressed in his initial hesitation that makes Joseph a real human being.  It also makes him someone we can relate to uniquely within the Holy family.  Jesus is understood to be fully human and fully God, which puts Him outside of our immediate experience.  Mary gave birth to God in human form, and that makes her highly unusual, too.  But Joseph-- good old normal, fully human, initially hesitant Joseph—is someone we can relate to.  He makes mistakes.  He might be thinking of his own needs before others’ sometimes.  Like the characters that populate the pages of the Hebrew Scriptures, he is flawed and real.

Is there something we can look to in Joseph to help us nurture our relationship with God?
What happens in today’s reading from Matthew that might be worthy of our spiritual attention?
How might Joseph’s actions guide our own?  So far I have mostly talked around today’s Gospel reading in order to give some background about my understanding of Joseph, but let’s take a closer look at the Gospel reading now.

The passage begins just after the departure of the Magi, and immediately God speaks to Joseph through angels sent in dreams.  This isn’t the first time, of course.  As I mentioned before, Joseph was convinced to wed Mary by one such visitation.  But this dream held a dire warning: “flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him."   Joseph does not hesitate; he moves right away under the cover of night and makes way to Egypt with wife and child in tow.  They settle in, waiting for Herod to pass away.

For his part, Herod orders the slaughter of the innocents to try to flush out the Christ- child, but to no avail.  Jesus is safe in a distant land.  Upon Herod’s death another angel of the Lord visits Joseph.  This time Joseph is urged to return to Israel; to once again go out of Egypt and into the Holy Land in a movement that parallels the Exodus.  On the way, Joseph hears of the new ruler of Judea and fears that he is no better than Herod.

This is confirmed for him in another dream visit, following which he makes “his home in a town called Nazareth.”   By the end of the passage, Joseph has dragged his family in and out of Egypt in two major long distance moves.  There have been consequences for protecting the Christ-child from destruction.  Herod--one upping even Pharaoh from days gone by--successfully puts to death a generation of infants and toddlers.  The author of Matthew assures us that this, like so much else in this Gospel, is to fulfill Scripture.

I imagine that must ring hollow for those left weeping from their losses, and beyond consolation.
It would be easy to dismiss this bloody story as a portion of Scripture that one might simply rather skip.  In fact, I was tempted to do just that when I was considering what to preach on today.  It just seems a little grim for the day after Christmas, no?

But then I noticed something.  It has to do with the way that Joseph relates to God.
Hear again these words from Matthew.  First, from Chapter 2, verses 13 to 14:
Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, "Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him."
Then Joseph got up.

Next, from verses 19-21a:
When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, 20"Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child's life are dead." 21Then Josephk got up.

Thirdly, from verse 22:
But when he (Joseph) heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee.

Do you see a pattern?  How does Joseph relate to the messages God sends him through angels?
In music this could rightly be termed “call and response.”  God sends a call and Joseph responds.
God says “go!” and Joseph goes—not after a long time, not eventually, but right away!
One possible read of this is that Joseph is obedient to God.  That is certainly true, but there is more, too.  Joseph models not merely obedience in responding to God’s will, but really, the faithful life.

God and Joseph relate to one another, and Joseph allows God’s will to guide his actions in all things. Even though God asks him to make a long cross- country voyage with a newborn and recovering mother, he does it.  Even though God asks Joseph to hide in the very land that once held his people as slaves, he does it.  Joseph even makes a new home for himself when he returns to his native land.  Joseph travels in and out with God, and he serves as a model for all people of faith to do the same.

By being open to listening to God, even average Joes and Josephines like us can find a closer relationship with God. The text also provides us with a model of how not to relate to God in the character of Herod.  Once again, a brief reading from Matthew, Chapter 2, verse 16:

When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men,i he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem…

Where is God’s voice in that?  Where are the angels visiting in dreams?  Nowhere….
Herod acts without God’s guidance to kill the innocent.  It is a selfish act fueled by anger, with horrid consequences.

My faith guides me to believe that God calls to each of us, always and in all ways.  The trick is to respond.  Herod listened to his own angry and unspeakable urges, whereas Joseph responded to God’s call.

God will never direct us to hurt the innocent—as Herod does-- but rather to protect them.  Listening to God’s promptings deepens our dialogue with the Living God.  In openness and listening, we also work with God to make real the promise of Emmanuel, or God-with-us, by doing our part to be with God.

So, Joseph-- initially hesitant, flawed, and so much more like us than either Jesus or Mary--provides us with an example of how to relate to God.  We must be open to God; we must listen.
We may be called to go in and out with God into strange places.  We might go into places we fear.   We may be brought out of the familiar entirely, but the reward is worth it.
Through our openness, we can stand one step closer to God and remain in dialogue.

“How?” you may ask, “How do we enter into dialogue with God?”  As I understand it, we do a very simple thing: we pray.  God’s replies may come in the world around us, in the words of our trusted friends or fellow members of our family in Christ, or in a dream-time visitor.  But I do believe that prayers are answered—if, usually in ways we do not expect.  In the hope of a deepening dialogue with our Creator, let us pray:
 

Giving and forgiving God,
Closer to us than breathing,
We yearn to be close to You,
May we find it in our hearts,
With your guidance and grace,
To pray without ceasing—
To make of our lives a perpetual conversation with You
To follow you in and out to our truest, deepest and best selves,
That we may draw closer to one another,
Love one another better
And know something more of Your infinite majesty
As Creator, Christ and Holy Spirit.
In your loving name we pray,

Amen

Copyrighted © 2004 by Author & Old South Church
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The Old South Church in Boston
645 Boylston Street
Boston, MA 02116
(617) 536-1970