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.  

           

Third Sunday of Advent: Rejoice always...but...

“Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing.
In all circumstances give thanks, for this
is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus.”

--1 Thessalonians 5: 16-24

Working my way slowly through the Old Testament has offered me many little and wonderful benefits. For instance, standing in line for confession last night… I was standing there anxious as always. Even at 58 I worry over speaking my sin in the hearing of another. I was at one of those Advent Reconciliation events and so there were several priests to choose from and I simply got into what looked like a reasonably short line (there were two on this side of the church –one longer and one shorter… I chose the shorter) and stood there –waiting—wondering what I would say.  I got out a little pad of paper and started making a list of my sins. By the time I got to the second page, I realized that the person standing behind me could probably read everything I was writing. So, I closed the notebook and capped my pen and began looking around, watching for the people coming out of the confessional. I was wondering if the priest was giving out hard penance? I figured I might be able to tell by the look in the eyes. Was he a kind old experienced priest? Was he a gentle naïve young first timer?  Would he be sympathetic to my situation? my sins? or would he suddenly blurt out: At your age!!  Or would it be one of those wonderful out of town priests from Poland that can’t understand a word you say, so they just listen, forgive everything and tell you to pray three Hail Marys.  (I love going to confession to priests who don’t speak English!)

 A woman came out and smiled. The next person went in; the line moved and I saw the name of the priest. Not him!  And suddenly that other line didn’t look so bad. I could just change lines. Just go over there. Maybe I should act like I was going to the bathroom, and just slip away and find a different line on the other side of the church. Or maybe I should just give up. It was a sign! Literally –with a name on it! I should just go home. I didn’t belong here anyway.

But, instead of getting out of line I opened my Bible. I was going to just read a little as I waited. Hoping it would distract me from the sense that the lady behind me was standing a little further back from me now that she knew the state of my soul. I was going to read a psalm or something like that, but instead I opened it to where I had left off that morning: Deuteronomy 8:7, and I began to read and this is exactly what I read:

“But, the Lord your God is bringing you into a fine country, a land of streams and springs, of waters that well up from the deep in valleys and hills, a land of wheat and barley, of vines, of figs, of pomegranates, a land of olives, of oil, of honey, a land where you will eat bread without stint, where you will want nothing…”

And I felt my knees buckle and my chin tremble and my eyes fill with tears. It was truly the voice of God speaking to me, there, in that line, as I waited –fearful, anxious, self-conscious, wanting nothing more than to just turn and run away. And to those feelings, the Lord said:

“But…”

Do you see? That’s what happens when you give yourself a chance to listen to God.  He says to you: But…

I was ready to give up, and the Lord said, “But…” and that is actually what made all the difference (Thank you, Mr. Frost).  What I am trying to say here is this: I think if I had been reading a different translation of the Bible, if I had opened the Bible to a different spot, if I had started reading at a different verse even, I might have walked away from that line and gone home without going to confession. I probably would have been ashamed of myself, but sadly I would have probably gotten over that much sooner than I would like to admit.

And yet I was reading that particular Bible that night and opened it to that particular verse because the morning before I had been reading that particular page and because the first word I read was: But… I felt there was nothing random about it. The words on that page spoke to me. They felt as if they were actually responding to me in that moment.  They said: Yes. You can turn around and walk out of here and no one will stop you and no one will hold it against you; But… here is what I have planned for you, so please stay.

            This Sunday (the third Sunday of Advent) one of our readings encourages us to Rejoice always. Give thanks in every situation.  That is a hard, hard teaching for some of us.  We have very difficult situations in our lives and we struggle just to keep going, just to stay in the line.  How can we be grateful for an incurably ill child? For a car that won’t start –again? For a flood that takes away everything we owned, everything we loved, and leaves us feeling lost?  How do we rejoice in that situation? How do we feel grateful for that?

            I don’t have an answer. But… I think I know where to find one.