When Joseph Awoke (a father at Christmas): some thoughts for the 4th Sunday of Advent

 

“When Joseph awoke, he did

as the angel commanded him.”

--Matthew 1:18-24

 

Who, over the age of 25, has not experienced that frightening moment when you wake up and suddenly realize: Oh my gosh! It’s almost Christmas! But, I’m not ready!  And suddenly--if you are like me—you rush out to the garage in search of lights you promised to hang a month ago, and the wreath that still needs to be put on the door. By golly, those Advent candles aren’t going to light themselves!... And has anyone seen the inflatable pug?

 It’s just not Christmas without the pug!

 In a desperate frenzy of activity, we set about doing everything the season commands. Wanting our house, our tree, our table to be just right!  Perfect, in fact. But there is always one more trip to HEB in search of gluten free ginger snaps for Aunt Lucy, or to Hallmark for a box of cards we still intend to write—Christmas is a season, you know; not just a single day!

 And the presents! Aargh. What size sweater does my sister wear? Would your bother like a new tie? With Snoopy on it? What about Aunt Hildy? Does she still smoke a pipe?  And I forgot to buy that tea your mother loves so much!

 

And just when it seems like it might come together, suddenly your niece announces she is vegan. Or someone else is added to the guest list and we need to borrow a card table from the neighbors, and get a few old folding chairs out of the garage… The chaos that comes with Christmas can be overwhelming. So much to do and if you put it all off long enough, so little time to do it.

 

Think about Joseph, he goes to bed one night certain of one thing: he is about to get divorced. But then an angel appears in his dream and everything changes.

 

Can’t you just see this humble old carpenter waking up and realizing he isn’t ready? Rushing about trying to make his house perfect for a new wife and this mysterious child of her’s—who just happens to be the savior of the world… When suddenly there is another messenger. Another command.  This time from Caesar; Everybody pack your bags and head home for a census! 

But I have plans for the holidays.

 

And again Joseph has to pivot, change plans, make new ones. A road trip. No problem.

 

But there isn’t any Trivago or AAA to help with reservations. But, surely God would provide a safe place for His son to be born, maybe even a room with a private bath and a view of the winter hillside.  I hear the night sky is full of stars and the gathered sheep look almost like drifts of snow this time of year.

 

And like most of us (especially fathers), Joseph had to learn that no matter how well you plan or hard you try, something (or someone) unexpected shows up and the best laid plans come crashing down like shards from a shattered ornament.  I am pretty sure if you asked him,  Joseph would tell you a stable full of animals and strangers was never part of his plan.  In fact, in his eyes, it probably seemed like a catastrophe, a sign somehow of his own failing as a husband and a step-father.  And yet, in the fullness of God’s plan, it was anything but; it was the fulfillment of His Word, of His love.

 

“Thus says the Lord:

Heaven is My footstool, and the earth My throne;

What kind of dwelling can you build for me?

What is to be my resting place?...

This is the one I approve: the lowly and the afflicted,

the one who trembles at My word.”  --Isaiah 66:1-2

 

God chose to enter into the world as an infant, vulnerable to the dangers and afflictions of the flesh and this world. That is the dwelling God chose, the dwelling He prefers. And no matter how we try to clean it up, sanitize it for Christmas cards, or Hallmark movies, God will always find a way to break through our plans, our desperate attempts to create a perfect Christmas, a perfect family, a perfect life… and through the vulnerability and chaos of our discomfort and failure and dysfunction, He will reveal Himself: a helpless baby lying in a manger, hungering for His mother’s tender breast, the warmth of His father’s gentle touch, offering us the chance to give Him not a gift card or a carefully wrapped present, but ourselves, our hearts, our love. That’s all… 

 

And so here it is, Christmas is upon us, those final days before the celebration. We have just celebrated the 4^th Sunday of Advent. We are at the eve of Christmas eve and yes company is coming, relatives, friends (folks you don’t know), and yes there are still cards to write and presents to buy and wrapping to be done.  But, instead of entering into the frenzy of it all, slow down. Take a breath.  And remember this: This Christmas don’t let the colored lights, and the glitter of the wrapping paper, the tinsel and the bows (and all your plans and expectations) blind you to the unexpected grace found only in the actual gift waiting for you right probably right where you least expect it.

 

Christmas, day 3: "...a just man..."

“…and her husband Joseph being a just man…”
–Matthew 1:19-21

I'm still thinking about Joseph. He was a just man, an upright man, an honorable man and a carpenter.  And, like his patriarch namesake, Joseph is a dreamer; someone God speaks to through dreams.  And, again like that other Joseph, he pays attention to his dreams.  He takes Mary into his house and becomes "her husband," and then, like the Joseph of old who was sold into Egypt by his brothers (cf. Gn. 37), this Joseph uproots his life and flees to Egypt to protect his new wife and keep her baby safe.  

            When I went to confession and was given the penance of reading Matthew's nativity and contemplating Joseph, the first thing I noticed was this: he brings Mary into his home and does whatever it takes to keep her and the baby safe. And then I asked myself: what does that mean? By doing this Joseph is bringing Jesus into his home. Yes. I can see that. And then, after he has received Jesus into his life, he does whatever it takes, makes whatever sacrifice he must to keep Jesus with him.  So, there is that lesson: we should do whatever it takes to receive and keep Christ with us. No sacrifice is too great. Okay. I like that, but...

 On a human level I have always been a little troubled by Joseph’s role in the nativity narrative. I imagine how he must have felt when he learned that Mary was expecting a baby. The sense of betrayal; the sting of his own foolishness for trusting her. How that must have hurt his ego; he was an upright man, a just man, an honorable man. Why would this happen to him? Why would God let this happen to him?  Based on the law, based on justice, he could have demanded she be lead out of the city gates and stoned for such a breach of morality --not to mention marital etiquette (cf. Lv. 20:10; Dt. 22:22; Jn 8:5). And yet, being an honorable man, he wanted to spare this young girl disgrace and planned to divorce her quietly and informally.

            What does this tell us about Joseph? That he was not only an upright man, a just man, an honorable man, but that he was also a compassionate man. And yet, even that isn’t enough for God and God’s plans. No, God wants something more than justice and honor and even more than goodness and compassion.  God wants something extraordinary; He wants a saint. And in a dream, God’s messenger comes to Joseph and tells him –Don’t be afraid. Take Mary into your home and make her your wife.  I know this isn’t what you had planned, but do it anyway.

            And Joseph does it.  He doesn’t wrestle with the angel or argue about how unfair the situation is.  He doesn’t mention that he already has reservations and plans for a glorious romantic honeymoon at the Key West Motor Lodge in Galveston. He gives up his dreams and listens to God’s.  For me, that might be the key lesson. Joseph seems to realize that the story isn’t about him. His life isn’t even about him.  It’s about Jesus. The key question in every life is this: how will you react when God offers to come and dwell with you?

Joseph was an honorable, a just, an upright man.  In other words: he paid his taxes, he went to church, he followed the rules, obeyed the laws.  But that wasn’t enough. God wanted more.  God wanted all. And I think what I learn from the example of Joseph is stated more directly in the words of John the Baptist: “He must increase, and I must decrease” (Jn 3:30).

That’s really what I meant to say in that other reflection.  But, it got away from me. Sometimes I get confused and head in the wrong direction. But, I’m trying. And I hope I am still listening.

Christmas: some thoughts on "her husband, Joseph..."

“…and her husband Joseph, being a just man and
unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce
her quietly. But as he considered this, behold an angel
of the Lord appeared to him in a dream saying: Joseph,
son of David, do not fear to take Mary your wife, for
that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit; she
will bear a son, and you shall call His name Jesus, for
He will save His people from their sins…”
–Matthew 1:19-21

In the Gospel story, Joseph fades from view.  He's mentioned a few times at the beginning of Matthew and Luke, but after the nativity and the return from Egypt, he's pretty much done. Nothing. nada. Zilch.  And yet, with that name, he clearly starts off right. Like his patriarch namesake, Joseph is a dreamer; someone God speaks to through dreams.  And, like that other Joseph, this one also pays attention to his dreams.  He listens and does what the dreams tell him to do: he takes Mary into his house and becomes "her husband," –even uproots his entire life and livelihood and flees to Egypt just to protect her and her baby because of a dream.   

            When I went to confession a couple of weeks back, I was given the penance of reading the first two chapters of Matthew and contemplating the role of Joseph.  I have always been a a little troubled by Joseph. I imagine how he must have felt when he learned that Mary was expecting a baby. The sense of betrayal and of his own foolishness for trusting her. How that must have stung his ego; he was an upright man, a just man, an honorable man. Why would this happen to him? Why would God let this happen to him?  And yet, wanting to spare this young girl disgrace, he chose to divorce her quietly and informally, when he could have demanded that she be lead out of the city gates and stoned for such a breach of morality (not to mention marital etiquette).

            I've even wondered sometimes, what if Joseph hadn't paid attention to the dreams? What if he were more like us today; what if he rationalized everything the minute he awoke? What if he were like that other famous Christmas season dreamer: a certain Mr. Scrooge? Imagine what would have happened if Joseph had responded the way Scrooge responds to Marley’s ghost:  Angels? Bah, humbug!  Why should I listen to you? You’re probably nothing more than an undigested bit of lamb, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone pita. There's more of hummus than of Heaven about you, whatever you are! 

            I’ve always wondered how I would have reacted.  Maybe something like this: Why me? This isn’t the life I was planning. All I wanted was a wife and a dog and a mortgage and a subscription to Netflix!  Why should I be raising someone else’s kid? And the kid’s teen-aged mother! I’m an honorable man, an upright man… I’m a school librarian, for heaven’s sake! What will people think? What will they say? And what on earth will I do in Egypt? No. I can’t do that. I won’t be made to look a fool! It’s not right. It’s not fair! This is my life, and it’s my choice how I live it. I won’t do it!

            In our world today, fairness and choice are the godheads we worship above all other -- except maybe pleasure (ah, there’s our modern trinity). And yet, when we hear this story, we accept without question that Joseph did what the story tells us. That he didn't sit around whining about how unfair it was. How God wasn't respecting his personal autonomy...  We just accept it. Joseph had a dream and then he did what the dream told him to do. No questions asked.  But, how often do we ponder what that means… not just theologically, but personally. What does that mean to you, personally? What lesson do you derive from Joseph’s example?

            For me, I think it is this:  it’s not about me.  Look at Joseph. He fades from view, and in the end becomes little more than “her husband.” 

            Yes, God is asking hard things from him. And yes, in today’s world hardly anyone would recommend that he listen to that voice and do what it says. We probably would recommend that he seek therapy? And try some psychotropic drugs... but, at best, we'd go along with being compassionate and helping an unwed mother find a safe place to live; perhaps a charitable shelter.  And it would be generous of him to make a donation of some kind to that organization. Of coure.  But who would recommend that he take the young lady into his home and make her his wife?  That would be like throwing your whole life away.  She got herself into this situation... It’s not his problem.

But, for me, that seems to be the point.  It’s not about him. 

So, if I want to give my life to God, then my life isn’t really about me. Yes, I have gifts and I have talents and I have plans for how I want to use them. That’s fine. It’s good. It’s honorable. I still have that dream of writing the great American novel.  Or winning the Nobel prize for poetry! I still dream of fame and success and glory.  But, don’t you think Joseph dreamed of becoming a great and famous carpenter?  And yet, at some point we have to put away childish things… Joseph put aside his plans, his personal dreams, and --at some point-- started listening to God's. And because he did, he became “her husband,” and slipped into the shadows –yet, 2000 years later we remember this: he gave up his personal plans, his personal dreams, in order to receive God’s. 

Like Joseph, we need to open our ears (and our hearts) and start listening– God has a plan for you (and for me; for every single one of us) and it may seem small, and insignificant… but believe me, if it’s from God, you won’t want to miss it.