Signs and Faithfulness

Joseph had a plan. He was well into it when it all went off the rails. He was betrothed to Mary. The romantics among us would like it to be a love story, a first glance, head over heels story, and that Joseph worked and planned and organized himself into this almost-to-be wedding. Could be. The historians among us point out that many, if not most, marriages in those days were arranged by parents and family members. It had been worked out by Mary’s dad and Joseph or Joseph’s father. But it happened; documents were signed and handshakes exchanged; it was a done deal, a plan on its way. Traditionalists have been troubled by Joseph’s disappearance from the story so quickly, so they invented a story that accounts for it. He was older, maybe even a widower, with kids (which also explains those pesky references to Jesus’ brothers and sisters – they were half siblings, thus preserving Mary’s perpetual virginity), and to fill his emptiness, to comfort his loneliness, young Mary was given to older Joseph, and thus the plan was in place.

The truth is, we don’t know. What we know, because Matthew tells us, is that there was a plan: “When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph.” That was the plan, a wedding on the way. But like many plans, it met an obstacle: “She was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit.” Um, what? Well, Matthew knows more here than Joseph does, more than anyone does. There is an interruption to the plan, an interruption of the plan that is so severe that the plan cannot continue. This isn’t a bump in the road; it is a dead end, a non-starter. It just can’t be. A whole new plan is called for now. A whole new approach, a whole new relationship, a whole new way of treating the one who drove the plan off the side of the mountain.

When we join the story, Joseph is finishing Plan B. What now? That was the question that had occupied his thinking for who knows how long. We aren’t told how Joseph learned that Plan A wasn’t going to work. All Matthew says is that Mary was found to be with child. Who found her? How was she found? Does this mean Mary told him? Just out of the blue, like Luke says, she found out, “Hey Joseph, you’ll never believe...!” Or did others find out? Rumors, gossip. Were fingers pointed and whispers savored in the village they called home? Did someone run up to Joseph and say, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news but ...”? We don’t know. Somehow Joseph knew and had to go back to the planning table and decide. Others argue it is simply a literary device, a way of getting what Matthew knows to the readers and to Joseph in the story. It’s not an event; it’s a sign—a sign that change is on the way.

It wasn’t easy. There is a dilemma hidden in verse nineteen. Matthew lays out the problem this way: “Joseph was a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace.” Most folks would read part one of that verse as Joseph being a studious observer of the law. Righteousness was all about obedience to the practices of the people of God, following the rules and regulations laid out by the scribes and Pharisees to define the right way to live with obedience to God. So, Joseph, we are supposed to hear, lived a life of obedience to the law. But the law says it was his duty to expose Mary and the sin she committed to the community, so she could be punished, driven out, stoned to death. That was the law. There’s some debate whether, by this time, they were still stoning, but they were certainly shunning. She was supposed to be disgraced. Supposed to be. It was the only way to make sure the shame didn’t fall on him and his name and his family. He had to do this thing he didn’t want to do.

But he chose not to. Plan B was to “dismiss her quietly” and send her home to her family. Embarrassed, but not shamed because he wasn’t going to say why. That’s the “quietly” bit. Tear up the contract; send her home. It’s over. That was not quite legal in the strict sense, but it was the plan. Having decided, he went to bed to try to sleep. And he did, somehow.

Because he dreamed. He dreamed of an angel. We’re supposed to hear an echo in this. Joseph, the dreamer, like his ancestor, Joseph the dreamer, who dreamed himself a princedom in Egypt, who dreamed himself out of and then back into the favor of his family. Now, descendant Joseph dreams a new plan and his place in that plan—Plan C that sounds oddly like Plan A. But it is Plan A redefined; Plan A resurrected, ascended, intensified. The angel changes everything back to how it was before. Just as with the scenes with Clarence in It’s a Wonderful Life, after the dream, it all goes back to the way it was, but now it’s different—exactly the same, but different.

Because Joseph is different. He’s aware of God’s presence, for one thing. He’s aware that he is a part of a plan he can’t imagine, let alone see. He is blessed by an invitation to come alongside the redemption of history itself, the transformation of the world. Joseph’s Plan A was to get married, raise a family, and do the best he could with what he had. God’s reinterpretation of Plan A was for Joseph to get married and raise a family and be a part of the salvation of the world, to join in bringing life-abundant, eternal life - into the world. Joseph was invited to be a sign of faithfulness, to live his righteousness in a risky but person-centered way. Through him, we can all see the way to faithful living—setting oneself aside long enough to hear the invitation of an angel.

I think angels are singing all the time. I think they are telling us that God is present, within reach, right here, born again in us, between us. But we’ve stopped listening. We’ve resolved to dismiss the Christ quietly, covered up with our busyness and our distractions, making our lists and hunting for the right gift that will make this Christmas special. The angel says, “It’s already special. You can’t make it any more special than God has made it. All you have to do is name it. All you have to do is receive it and make it yours. Make it you.”