Fourth Sunday Of Advent
Preaching
Lectionary Preaching Workbook
Series VIII, Cycle A
Theme For The Day
Sometimes a good-enough Christmas is more than enough.
Old Testament Lesson
Isaiah 7:10-16
The Immanuel Sign
Today's lesson from the Hebrew scriptures is most familiar to Christians because of the prophecy of Jesus it contains. Yet, as with all messianic prophecies, it also contains meaning for the people of its own day -- a meaning that ought not to be lost, even as we focus our attention on the coming of Christ many centuries later. The reason for the Christian focus, of course, is Matthew's citation of this passage in 1:23 (included in the gospel lesson for today). Matthew is speaking of Jesus, but Isaiah is speaking a harsh word of judgment to the corrupt King Ahaz. Implying that Ahaz's kingship is irredeemable, the prophet proclaims that the Lord will raise up a new, more virtuous king. A young woman is expecting a child, he says, and this child will be called "Immanuel" (literally, "God is with us"). The Hebrew word is "young woman," not specifically "virgin" -- although some later Greek translations of the Hebrew (including, evidently, the version known to Matthew) used the Greek word for "virgin." Although the identity of this young woman is uncertain, it is possibly Abi, Ahaz's wife: the mother of King Hezekiah. The prophet's chilling implication is that God is no longer with Ahaz. Verses 15-16 depict this child as a paragon of rustic virtue -- much as the young King David is portrayed elsewhere. In the last half of verse 16, the prophet reveals that, before this boy reaches maturity, the immediate threat of invasion from the north will be averted. In the verses that follow -- unfortunately, cut off by the abrupt end of this lectionary selection -- it becomes clear that even darker days are ahead for the house of Ahaz, foreshadowing the eventual fall of Jerusalem to the Babylonians. A sermon on this passage could focus on the meaning of the word Immanuel, "God is with us." What does it mean to say God is with us? Is God with us only to comfort? Or, does not God's presence in our lives also bring transformation?
New Testament Lesson
Romans 1:1-7
A Slave With Authority
How to address a letter to people you have never visited? That is Paul's dilemma in these first verses of Romans. Yet, Paul knows these people are followers of Christ, so he emphasizes the faith he and they have in common. Many of us address Christmas cards this time of year, but typically they are for people we already know (even old friends we have not seen for many years). The salutation of this letter implies no common acquaintance, but it does rely on a common experience of the risen Lord. Paul's credentials, here, are wholly related to his proclamation: he is "set apart for the good news of God" (v. 1). He introduces himself as "slave [doulos] of Christ" -- although, in the Imperial Roman context, this might not have been so humble a title as it may sound. Thousands of slaves were members of the Imperial household, identifying themselves as "slaves of Caesar" -- some of them distinguished, even powerful, figures. They received their authority from the one they served. Thus, Paul sets up, from the very beginning of his letter, a contrast: between Jerusalem and Rome, between Christ and Caesar. Jesus "was declared to be Son of God with power" [dunamis] -- another contrast with Imperial power (v. 4). The sign of this power is his resurrection. Verse 5 contains a concise expression of Paul's apostolic commission: "through whom we have received grace and apostleship to bring about the obedience of faith among all the Gentiles for the sake of his name." The apostle is like one of those Imperial slaves -- nominally non-persons in that society, but because of the power of the one they work for, figures of far-reaching authority. Certain congressional aides -- unelected officials who work for powerful Senators or Representatives -- exercise similar, delegated authority in our government. (How might Paul have addressed a "Letter to the Washingtonians"?) The inclusion of the word "obedience" is significant, here -- Paul speaks not just of faith, but of the obedience of faith (obedience describes the stance of Roman subjects toward their Emperor). Paul addresses the Roman Christians as "saints," or "holy ones" (v. 7) -- a favorite description of his, with respect to members of his churches. This word never occurs in the singular in scripture but always relates to the whole company of the faithful.
The Gospel
Matthew 1:18-25
Matthew's Nativity Story
This passage, familiar as it is, requires significant cross-cultural interpretation for modern listeners to understand it. Marital customs in first-century Palestine included a significant period of betrothal, lasting a year or more. During this time, the couple was treated, for all practical purposes, as husband and wife, with the exception that they had not yet begun to have sexual relations. Marriage, in that culture, was not simply a union of persons, nor even a union of families (with the usual implications for property and genealogy). It was also a community matter: and any betrayal of marital faithfulness was a betrayal of the values of the entire community. The fragmentary way in which Joseph first learns of Mary's pregnancy -- the mere biological fact of it, without any word of its supernatural origins -- at first leads him to suspect that he and his community have been betrayed. Joseph is "a righteous man," so he is led to weigh the competing demands of justice and mercy. Justice alone would lead him to publicly denounce Mary, exposing her to the considerable wrath of that shame-based society. Yet Joseph also listens to the voice of mercy, and so he resolves "to dismiss her quietly" (v. 19). This, of course, proves not to be necessary: for he receives an angelic visitation in a dream, informing him of the full story. For Joseph, there is a cost to mercy: In continuing to honor the marriage covenant, he surely exposes himself to a certain amount of ongoing ridicule in the eyes of the village gossips. Yet, when does love ever come without cost? The God-given name of Jesus (verses 21, 25) is actually "Joshua" -- an allusion to the national hero who led the Israelites into the realization of God's covenant as they entered the promised land. This passage, of course, also contains what we now know to be one of the most glaring misquotations in all of scripture. Matthew cites Isaiah 7:14, recalling not the "young woman" mentioned in the Hebrew text, who is with child (present tense), but the "virgin" who will be with child (future tense). The doctrine of the Virgin Birth that has subsequently found its way into the Apostles and Nicene Creeds is, at best, a sidebar to the Christian proclamation. Its continuing meaning -- theological, rather than gynecological -- is the utter uniqueness of Jesus Christ. That message is appropriate for the days before Christmas, or any other time.
Preaching Possibilities
"A fairy-tale marriage." That's what many young couples are looking for today -- and there are plenty of businesses out there ready to take their money and cater to their every whim. One of the biggest and best-known of these businesses, of course, is the Disney Company. For the fortunate (and wealthy) few, there is the opportunity to literally have a fairy-tale marriage: to have their ceremony in Cinderella's Castle.
There's really no such thing as a fairy-tale marriage. There are only real marriages, sustained by real people: people with strengths and weaknesses, virtues and vices, real-world possibilities and real-world problems.
This is a truth a man named Joseph discovered, many centuries ago, when he received the news that his betrothed, Mary, was expecting a child. When Joseph looked at Mary, his betrothed, he suddenly realized she looked different. He couldn't say for sure, at first, what it was. Something about her complexion, maybe. A kind of glow, some would call it -- a glow of health. She seemed happy but also a bit distracted. And that big appetite at mealtimes -- where did that come from?
But then Joseph learned the truth. The Bible doesn't tell us how he learned it, but learn it he did. Mary, his beloved, his betrothed, was going to have a baby!
Such news was not received so casually, back then, as it is in some circles today. The law of Moses is crystal clear. Chapter 22 of Deuteronomy tells Joseph exactly what he ought to do in such circumstances and those words are chilling in their legal precision. He is to have her stoned to death (Deuteronomy 22:23-24).
For an engaged woman to become pregnant by someone other than her fiancé was a capital offense. That's not the way it happened, of course, in Mary's case. Matthew tells us, tersely, "She was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit" (v. 18). Luke's gospel provides much more detail, from Mary's perspective. There's a visit from the Angel Gabriel, and a full account of Mary's perplexity and fear, followed by her faith-filled declaration, "Let it be with me according to your word" (Luke 1:38). But, here in Matthew, the miraculous conception of Jesus is simply stated, as though the Holy Spirit begetting children is an ordinary, everyday occurrence.
Matthew's much more interested in Joseph than in Mary. He tells the story from the father's perspective. And what a perspective it is, in those early days before Joseph understands the full scope of what has just happened, to him and his beloved Mary!
"Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly" (Matthew 1:19). Joseph is a righteous man, but he's so much more than righteous. He's also merciful. Righteousness would have said, "Obey the law of Deuteronomy. Hand her over to the mob, and let them make and example of her!" No one in that culture would have faulted Joseph for demanding the brutal justice that was his privilege under the law.
Yes, Joseph's heart is broken but that broken heart still beats enough for the woman he to loves that he can't bear to see her suffer. Mary's prospects, as an unwed mother in that culture, are hardly good -- she'll probably become a beggar or a slave -- but life is better than death, after all, and Joseph would rather see her live. Those words, "dismiss her quietly," may sound cold and officious to our modern ears: but from the standpoint of that culture, they are words of profound and undeserved mercy.
Joseph, as it happens, will never have to exercise that mercy, because he's also a man who listens to dreams. One night, an angel comes to him and explains just who this child is, and how he's come to be in Mary's womb. Having already chosen the merciful, Joseph will now do the unthinkable: He will take Mary to be his wife.
Tongues are already wagging down at the village well and in the taverns -- gleefully sharing the gossip about this young girl and her misfortune. Now, the voices of gossip and slander turn to Joseph. He who was "unwilling to expose Mary to public disgrace" now sets himself up to become the object of ridicule. He does it for Mary, and for the child growing within her. He does it as an act of courage and of considerable faith.
Mary and Joseph are real, three-dimensional people, not some pious, haloed figures, backlit by sunbeams blazing through stained glass. They had a real marriage -- a marriage whose circumstances were hardly ideal when it began, but which, by God's grace, managed to come out all right.
What enabled Mary and Joseph to do this was a conscious decision they undoubtedly made, at some point in that wild, storm-tossed journey that began with the news of Mary's pregnancy. We know precious little about the circumstances by which they came to that decision, other than the little bit Matthew and Luke tell us: Namely, Mary listened to angels and Joseph gave credence to dreams. The decision Mary and Joseph made, at that critical juncture, was to cease chasing after a perfect marriage and to cherish, instead, their good-enough marriage.
Now that may not sound very extraordinary or commendable. To say that these two accepted a marriage that was merely "good enough" hardly sounds romantic. It sounds like they merely settled for what they could get -- like they gave up trying.
But take a look, again, at their circumstances. Mary is an ordinary peasant girl. She never asked to be what the Greek church calls theotokos, "God-bearer." Yet, when the angel tells her of her divine calling, she says -- displaying courage beyond her years -- "Let it be with me according to your word." Neither does the carpenter, Joseph, expect to become father to a child who's not his own. Yet, after hearing from the angel in his dream, he cancels his plan "to dismiss her quietly." For this couple, the road ahead is hardly what they've planned -- but then, are they all that unusual? For what married couple, what human family, ever experiences exactly what they've planned?
There are conflicts and troubles aplenty in the best of marriages. There are times when the road is rough, the future uncertain. But then, in those marriages that do succeed, there comes, eventually, the blessed discovery that what is flawed and imperfect is, after all, good enough. In Mary and Joseph's case, their marriage was more than just good enough. It changed the world.
One final word, not about marriage, but about the Christmas holiday. This, too, is an area where absurdly high expectations often rule. For many of us, at this point in the countdown, the pressure's on. For weeks now, we've been working and striving to try to make this the best holiday ever. In a few days, most of us will gather with those people near and dear to us -- or at least to the nearest and dearest we can assemble, under the circumstances and celebrate with feasting and the giving of gifts.
It's a precious and holy time of year but it's not the be-all and end-all of human life! Many a family's perfectly adequate Christmas celebration has foundered upon the rocks of unrealistic expectations. The ideal Christmas holiday often seems to be tantalizingly out of reach. When that hard reality sinks in, some of us have a way of treating others more harshly than we ought.
Here's an idea. Instead of chasing after the ideal Christmas, why not stop the mad rush, drop out of the reindeer race, and simply celebrate a good-enough Christmas? If we can muster the gutsiness and presence of mind to stand up against the powerful forces of commercialism, we'll discover more than enough small blessings, in this bright and holy time, to satisfy us all.
Maybe we all ought to wish each other "A Good-Enough Christmas!"
Prayer For The Day
O God, who in a stable at Bethlehem
gave the world the most precious gift of all:
give to us something of the strength of faith
that upheld your servant Joseph.
May we, too, make the choice he made:
to continue in the way of righteousness and mercy,
even when it seems out of step with the world.
Guide us through these days of hope and expectation,
that our path may always be one
that follows in the steps of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
To Illustrate
Across the long years of any deep and loving human relationship, there are multiple occasions for accepting the other. The traditional marriage ceremony asks, "Do you take this woman...?" "Do you take this man...?" In their early, starry-eyed idealism, most couples imagine that accepting their loved one is always going to be easy. Yet as the years go by, and partners hit the predictable rough spots in their journey together, it becomes more difficult to actively choose the other.
Sadly, some give up trying. They either let the relationship degenerate into a hollow shell of social convention, or they seek to end it in divorce.
Absurdly high expectations are often to blame. Popular culture so idolizes courtship -- both its romantic and its physical aspects -- that modern couples have few role-models to follow in crafting a durable, long-term covenant.
All too often, the emphasis is more on finding the right person than on being the right person. When the going gets tough, it may appear that the path of least resistance is to "dismiss" the other -- quietly or not-so-quietly -- then go out and search afresh for the mythical right person. Few movies are ever made, few romance novels ever written, that tell the inspiring story of long-term couples who triumph over predictable difficulties to forge an even stronger relationship.
Conflict... reconciliation... renewal. It's a three-step dance couples go through again and again -- not at their wedding reception, but beginning very soon after. How they do at continuing this dance has everything to do with how successful they will be at building a home and family that will be a blessing to others.
***
I give many talks around the country about love and marriage. When I tell the audience that love is worth the effort, I explain that romance is not the same as love.
Romance is about feelings. When our husbands bring us flowers, they hope it will make us feel special. When we fix our husband's favorite dinner and serve it by candlelight, we are trying to make him feel that he matters. And when we ask for more romance in our marriage, we usually mean that we want the other person to take the time, trouble, and effort to make us feel special.
Now all that is very well, but it is not quite the same as love. To love is to will, and to do, the good of the other. Sometimes, real love means listening when they have something negative to say about our behavior. It is in our best interest to know when we are doing something destructive, wrong, or just plain stupid. A gentle word from a spouse can be an act of love.
And that is the basic confusion that we have about love. We think we are "in love" if we like the way we feel when we are with another person. But every adult knows that those good feelings are not enough to sustain a marriage for a lifetime. We don't always like the way we feel at work: that doesn't necessarily mean we should quit our jobs. We don't like the way we feel about our children: that doesn't mean we should disown them. It doesn't make sense to gauge the strength of our marriages on the basis of how we feel minute to minute.
But if we see that loving is wanting the good of the other person, then we realize that feelings are only a small part of the big picture of love.
-- Jennifer Roback Morse, cited in the "To The Source" e-newsletter
***
For many modern women, the Mary of Christian tradition is at best an irrelevance, at worst one more reminder of the way in which no woman can live up the image of perfection -- perpetual virgin/perfect mother -- created by centuries of male theologians. What can speak to us, though, is her humanity. Mary shares many women's experiences: her early arranged marriage, her struggle to keep the family together after the death of her husband, her love for her son, and her grief at his death. It is the human Mary who reaches across the centuries to women in every age and every culture.
-- Helen K. Bond, lecturer in the New Testament at the University of Edinburgh, in The Guardian newspaper, December 19, 2002
***
In his History of the Reformation in Scotland, John Knox relates a story from the days when, on account of his Protestant faith, he was imprisoned as a galley slave on a French ship. His masters brought a painted statue of the Virgin Mary onto the ship, and brought it around to each of the galley slaves, asking them to kiss it. One particular Scotsman refused, calling the statue idolatrous. The masters persisted:
" 'Thou shalt handle it' [they said]; and so they violently thrust it in his face and put in betwixt his hands; who seeing the extremity, took the idol, and advisedly looking about, he cast it in the river, and said, 'Let our Lady now save herself: she is light enough; let her learn to swim!' "
Some scholars think the Scotsman at the center of the story was Knox himself.
Many Protestants, in the centuries since, have followed this anonymous Scotsman's lead, and avoided Mary altogether. Yet, the fact remains that she is one of the most important figures in Christian history. She was a real woman, and her faith and devotion have much to teach us.
***
Words that do not become flesh in us remain "just words." They have no power to affect our lives. If someone says, "I love you," without any deep emotion, the words do more harm than good. But if these same words are spoken from the heart, they can create new life....
The word must become flesh, but the flesh also must become word. It is not enough for us, as human beings, just to live. We also must give words to what we are living. If we do not speak what we are living, our lives lose their vitality and creativity. When we see a beautiful view, we search for words to express what we are seeing. When we meet a caring person, we want to speak about that meeting. When we are sorrowful or in great pain, we need to talk about it. When we are surprised by joy, we want to announce it!
Through the word, we appropriate and internalize what we are living. The word makes our experience truly human.
-- Henri J.M. Nouwen, Bread For The Journey (HarperCollins, 1997)
Sometimes a good-enough Christmas is more than enough.
Old Testament Lesson
Isaiah 7:10-16
The Immanuel Sign
Today's lesson from the Hebrew scriptures is most familiar to Christians because of the prophecy of Jesus it contains. Yet, as with all messianic prophecies, it also contains meaning for the people of its own day -- a meaning that ought not to be lost, even as we focus our attention on the coming of Christ many centuries later. The reason for the Christian focus, of course, is Matthew's citation of this passage in 1:23 (included in the gospel lesson for today). Matthew is speaking of Jesus, but Isaiah is speaking a harsh word of judgment to the corrupt King Ahaz. Implying that Ahaz's kingship is irredeemable, the prophet proclaims that the Lord will raise up a new, more virtuous king. A young woman is expecting a child, he says, and this child will be called "Immanuel" (literally, "God is with us"). The Hebrew word is "young woman," not specifically "virgin" -- although some later Greek translations of the Hebrew (including, evidently, the version known to Matthew) used the Greek word for "virgin." Although the identity of this young woman is uncertain, it is possibly Abi, Ahaz's wife: the mother of King Hezekiah. The prophet's chilling implication is that God is no longer with Ahaz. Verses 15-16 depict this child as a paragon of rustic virtue -- much as the young King David is portrayed elsewhere. In the last half of verse 16, the prophet reveals that, before this boy reaches maturity, the immediate threat of invasion from the north will be averted. In the verses that follow -- unfortunately, cut off by the abrupt end of this lectionary selection -- it becomes clear that even darker days are ahead for the house of Ahaz, foreshadowing the eventual fall of Jerusalem to the Babylonians. A sermon on this passage could focus on the meaning of the word Immanuel, "God is with us." What does it mean to say God is with us? Is God with us only to comfort? Or, does not God's presence in our lives also bring transformation?
New Testament Lesson
Romans 1:1-7
A Slave With Authority
How to address a letter to people you have never visited? That is Paul's dilemma in these first verses of Romans. Yet, Paul knows these people are followers of Christ, so he emphasizes the faith he and they have in common. Many of us address Christmas cards this time of year, but typically they are for people we already know (even old friends we have not seen for many years). The salutation of this letter implies no common acquaintance, but it does rely on a common experience of the risen Lord. Paul's credentials, here, are wholly related to his proclamation: he is "set apart for the good news of God" (v. 1). He introduces himself as "slave [doulos] of Christ" -- although, in the Imperial Roman context, this might not have been so humble a title as it may sound. Thousands of slaves were members of the Imperial household, identifying themselves as "slaves of Caesar" -- some of them distinguished, even powerful, figures. They received their authority from the one they served. Thus, Paul sets up, from the very beginning of his letter, a contrast: between Jerusalem and Rome, between Christ and Caesar. Jesus "was declared to be Son of God with power" [dunamis] -- another contrast with Imperial power (v. 4). The sign of this power is his resurrection. Verse 5 contains a concise expression of Paul's apostolic commission: "through whom we have received grace and apostleship to bring about the obedience of faith among all the Gentiles for the sake of his name." The apostle is like one of those Imperial slaves -- nominally non-persons in that society, but because of the power of the one they work for, figures of far-reaching authority. Certain congressional aides -- unelected officials who work for powerful Senators or Representatives -- exercise similar, delegated authority in our government. (How might Paul have addressed a "Letter to the Washingtonians"?) The inclusion of the word "obedience" is significant, here -- Paul speaks not just of faith, but of the obedience of faith (obedience describes the stance of Roman subjects toward their Emperor). Paul addresses the Roman Christians as "saints," or "holy ones" (v. 7) -- a favorite description of his, with respect to members of his churches. This word never occurs in the singular in scripture but always relates to the whole company of the faithful.
The Gospel
Matthew 1:18-25
Matthew's Nativity Story
This passage, familiar as it is, requires significant cross-cultural interpretation for modern listeners to understand it. Marital customs in first-century Palestine included a significant period of betrothal, lasting a year or more. During this time, the couple was treated, for all practical purposes, as husband and wife, with the exception that they had not yet begun to have sexual relations. Marriage, in that culture, was not simply a union of persons, nor even a union of families (with the usual implications for property and genealogy). It was also a community matter: and any betrayal of marital faithfulness was a betrayal of the values of the entire community. The fragmentary way in which Joseph first learns of Mary's pregnancy -- the mere biological fact of it, without any word of its supernatural origins -- at first leads him to suspect that he and his community have been betrayed. Joseph is "a righteous man," so he is led to weigh the competing demands of justice and mercy. Justice alone would lead him to publicly denounce Mary, exposing her to the considerable wrath of that shame-based society. Yet Joseph also listens to the voice of mercy, and so he resolves "to dismiss her quietly" (v. 19). This, of course, proves not to be necessary: for he receives an angelic visitation in a dream, informing him of the full story. For Joseph, there is a cost to mercy: In continuing to honor the marriage covenant, he surely exposes himself to a certain amount of ongoing ridicule in the eyes of the village gossips. Yet, when does love ever come without cost? The God-given name of Jesus (verses 21, 25) is actually "Joshua" -- an allusion to the national hero who led the Israelites into the realization of God's covenant as they entered the promised land. This passage, of course, also contains what we now know to be one of the most glaring misquotations in all of scripture. Matthew cites Isaiah 7:14, recalling not the "young woman" mentioned in the Hebrew text, who is with child (present tense), but the "virgin" who will be with child (future tense). The doctrine of the Virgin Birth that has subsequently found its way into the Apostles and Nicene Creeds is, at best, a sidebar to the Christian proclamation. Its continuing meaning -- theological, rather than gynecological -- is the utter uniqueness of Jesus Christ. That message is appropriate for the days before Christmas, or any other time.
Preaching Possibilities
"A fairy-tale marriage." That's what many young couples are looking for today -- and there are plenty of businesses out there ready to take their money and cater to their every whim. One of the biggest and best-known of these businesses, of course, is the Disney Company. For the fortunate (and wealthy) few, there is the opportunity to literally have a fairy-tale marriage: to have their ceremony in Cinderella's Castle.
There's really no such thing as a fairy-tale marriage. There are only real marriages, sustained by real people: people with strengths and weaknesses, virtues and vices, real-world possibilities and real-world problems.
This is a truth a man named Joseph discovered, many centuries ago, when he received the news that his betrothed, Mary, was expecting a child. When Joseph looked at Mary, his betrothed, he suddenly realized she looked different. He couldn't say for sure, at first, what it was. Something about her complexion, maybe. A kind of glow, some would call it -- a glow of health. She seemed happy but also a bit distracted. And that big appetite at mealtimes -- where did that come from?
But then Joseph learned the truth. The Bible doesn't tell us how he learned it, but learn it he did. Mary, his beloved, his betrothed, was going to have a baby!
Such news was not received so casually, back then, as it is in some circles today. The law of Moses is crystal clear. Chapter 22 of Deuteronomy tells Joseph exactly what he ought to do in such circumstances and those words are chilling in their legal precision. He is to have her stoned to death (Deuteronomy 22:23-24).
For an engaged woman to become pregnant by someone other than her fiancé was a capital offense. That's not the way it happened, of course, in Mary's case. Matthew tells us, tersely, "She was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit" (v. 18). Luke's gospel provides much more detail, from Mary's perspective. There's a visit from the Angel Gabriel, and a full account of Mary's perplexity and fear, followed by her faith-filled declaration, "Let it be with me according to your word" (Luke 1:38). But, here in Matthew, the miraculous conception of Jesus is simply stated, as though the Holy Spirit begetting children is an ordinary, everyday occurrence.
Matthew's much more interested in Joseph than in Mary. He tells the story from the father's perspective. And what a perspective it is, in those early days before Joseph understands the full scope of what has just happened, to him and his beloved Mary!
"Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly" (Matthew 1:19). Joseph is a righteous man, but he's so much more than righteous. He's also merciful. Righteousness would have said, "Obey the law of Deuteronomy. Hand her over to the mob, and let them make and example of her!" No one in that culture would have faulted Joseph for demanding the brutal justice that was his privilege under the law.
Yes, Joseph's heart is broken but that broken heart still beats enough for the woman he to loves that he can't bear to see her suffer. Mary's prospects, as an unwed mother in that culture, are hardly good -- she'll probably become a beggar or a slave -- but life is better than death, after all, and Joseph would rather see her live. Those words, "dismiss her quietly," may sound cold and officious to our modern ears: but from the standpoint of that culture, they are words of profound and undeserved mercy.
Joseph, as it happens, will never have to exercise that mercy, because he's also a man who listens to dreams. One night, an angel comes to him and explains just who this child is, and how he's come to be in Mary's womb. Having already chosen the merciful, Joseph will now do the unthinkable: He will take Mary to be his wife.
Tongues are already wagging down at the village well and in the taverns -- gleefully sharing the gossip about this young girl and her misfortune. Now, the voices of gossip and slander turn to Joseph. He who was "unwilling to expose Mary to public disgrace" now sets himself up to become the object of ridicule. He does it for Mary, and for the child growing within her. He does it as an act of courage and of considerable faith.
Mary and Joseph are real, three-dimensional people, not some pious, haloed figures, backlit by sunbeams blazing through stained glass. They had a real marriage -- a marriage whose circumstances were hardly ideal when it began, but which, by God's grace, managed to come out all right.
What enabled Mary and Joseph to do this was a conscious decision they undoubtedly made, at some point in that wild, storm-tossed journey that began with the news of Mary's pregnancy. We know precious little about the circumstances by which they came to that decision, other than the little bit Matthew and Luke tell us: Namely, Mary listened to angels and Joseph gave credence to dreams. The decision Mary and Joseph made, at that critical juncture, was to cease chasing after a perfect marriage and to cherish, instead, their good-enough marriage.
Now that may not sound very extraordinary or commendable. To say that these two accepted a marriage that was merely "good enough" hardly sounds romantic. It sounds like they merely settled for what they could get -- like they gave up trying.
But take a look, again, at their circumstances. Mary is an ordinary peasant girl. She never asked to be what the Greek church calls theotokos, "God-bearer." Yet, when the angel tells her of her divine calling, she says -- displaying courage beyond her years -- "Let it be with me according to your word." Neither does the carpenter, Joseph, expect to become father to a child who's not his own. Yet, after hearing from the angel in his dream, he cancels his plan "to dismiss her quietly." For this couple, the road ahead is hardly what they've planned -- but then, are they all that unusual? For what married couple, what human family, ever experiences exactly what they've planned?
There are conflicts and troubles aplenty in the best of marriages. There are times when the road is rough, the future uncertain. But then, in those marriages that do succeed, there comes, eventually, the blessed discovery that what is flawed and imperfect is, after all, good enough. In Mary and Joseph's case, their marriage was more than just good enough. It changed the world.
One final word, not about marriage, but about the Christmas holiday. This, too, is an area where absurdly high expectations often rule. For many of us, at this point in the countdown, the pressure's on. For weeks now, we've been working and striving to try to make this the best holiday ever. In a few days, most of us will gather with those people near and dear to us -- or at least to the nearest and dearest we can assemble, under the circumstances and celebrate with feasting and the giving of gifts.
It's a precious and holy time of year but it's not the be-all and end-all of human life! Many a family's perfectly adequate Christmas celebration has foundered upon the rocks of unrealistic expectations. The ideal Christmas holiday often seems to be tantalizingly out of reach. When that hard reality sinks in, some of us have a way of treating others more harshly than we ought.
Here's an idea. Instead of chasing after the ideal Christmas, why not stop the mad rush, drop out of the reindeer race, and simply celebrate a good-enough Christmas? If we can muster the gutsiness and presence of mind to stand up against the powerful forces of commercialism, we'll discover more than enough small blessings, in this bright and holy time, to satisfy us all.
Maybe we all ought to wish each other "A Good-Enough Christmas!"
Prayer For The Day
O God, who in a stable at Bethlehem
gave the world the most precious gift of all:
give to us something of the strength of faith
that upheld your servant Joseph.
May we, too, make the choice he made:
to continue in the way of righteousness and mercy,
even when it seems out of step with the world.
Guide us through these days of hope and expectation,
that our path may always be one
that follows in the steps of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
To Illustrate
Across the long years of any deep and loving human relationship, there are multiple occasions for accepting the other. The traditional marriage ceremony asks, "Do you take this woman...?" "Do you take this man...?" In their early, starry-eyed idealism, most couples imagine that accepting their loved one is always going to be easy. Yet as the years go by, and partners hit the predictable rough spots in their journey together, it becomes more difficult to actively choose the other.
Sadly, some give up trying. They either let the relationship degenerate into a hollow shell of social convention, or they seek to end it in divorce.
Absurdly high expectations are often to blame. Popular culture so idolizes courtship -- both its romantic and its physical aspects -- that modern couples have few role-models to follow in crafting a durable, long-term covenant.
All too often, the emphasis is more on finding the right person than on being the right person. When the going gets tough, it may appear that the path of least resistance is to "dismiss" the other -- quietly or not-so-quietly -- then go out and search afresh for the mythical right person. Few movies are ever made, few romance novels ever written, that tell the inspiring story of long-term couples who triumph over predictable difficulties to forge an even stronger relationship.
Conflict... reconciliation... renewal. It's a three-step dance couples go through again and again -- not at their wedding reception, but beginning very soon after. How they do at continuing this dance has everything to do with how successful they will be at building a home and family that will be a blessing to others.
***
I give many talks around the country about love and marriage. When I tell the audience that love is worth the effort, I explain that romance is not the same as love.
Romance is about feelings. When our husbands bring us flowers, they hope it will make us feel special. When we fix our husband's favorite dinner and serve it by candlelight, we are trying to make him feel that he matters. And when we ask for more romance in our marriage, we usually mean that we want the other person to take the time, trouble, and effort to make us feel special.
Now all that is very well, but it is not quite the same as love. To love is to will, and to do, the good of the other. Sometimes, real love means listening when they have something negative to say about our behavior. It is in our best interest to know when we are doing something destructive, wrong, or just plain stupid. A gentle word from a spouse can be an act of love.
And that is the basic confusion that we have about love. We think we are "in love" if we like the way we feel when we are with another person. But every adult knows that those good feelings are not enough to sustain a marriage for a lifetime. We don't always like the way we feel at work: that doesn't necessarily mean we should quit our jobs. We don't like the way we feel about our children: that doesn't mean we should disown them. It doesn't make sense to gauge the strength of our marriages on the basis of how we feel minute to minute.
But if we see that loving is wanting the good of the other person, then we realize that feelings are only a small part of the big picture of love.
-- Jennifer Roback Morse, cited in the "To The Source" e-newsletter
***
For many modern women, the Mary of Christian tradition is at best an irrelevance, at worst one more reminder of the way in which no woman can live up the image of perfection -- perpetual virgin/perfect mother -- created by centuries of male theologians. What can speak to us, though, is her humanity. Mary shares many women's experiences: her early arranged marriage, her struggle to keep the family together after the death of her husband, her love for her son, and her grief at his death. It is the human Mary who reaches across the centuries to women in every age and every culture.
-- Helen K. Bond, lecturer in the New Testament at the University of Edinburgh, in The Guardian newspaper, December 19, 2002
***
In his History of the Reformation in Scotland, John Knox relates a story from the days when, on account of his Protestant faith, he was imprisoned as a galley slave on a French ship. His masters brought a painted statue of the Virgin Mary onto the ship, and brought it around to each of the galley slaves, asking them to kiss it. One particular Scotsman refused, calling the statue idolatrous. The masters persisted:
" 'Thou shalt handle it' [they said]; and so they violently thrust it in his face and put in betwixt his hands; who seeing the extremity, took the idol, and advisedly looking about, he cast it in the river, and said, 'Let our Lady now save herself: she is light enough; let her learn to swim!' "
Some scholars think the Scotsman at the center of the story was Knox himself.
Many Protestants, in the centuries since, have followed this anonymous Scotsman's lead, and avoided Mary altogether. Yet, the fact remains that she is one of the most important figures in Christian history. She was a real woman, and her faith and devotion have much to teach us.
***
Words that do not become flesh in us remain "just words." They have no power to affect our lives. If someone says, "I love you," without any deep emotion, the words do more harm than good. But if these same words are spoken from the heart, they can create new life....
The word must become flesh, but the flesh also must become word. It is not enough for us, as human beings, just to live. We also must give words to what we are living. If we do not speak what we are living, our lives lose their vitality and creativity. When we see a beautiful view, we search for words to express what we are seeing. When we meet a caring person, we want to speak about that meeting. When we are sorrowful or in great pain, we need to talk about it. When we are surprised by joy, we want to announce it!
Through the word, we appropriate and internalize what we are living. The word makes our experience truly human.
-- Henri J.M. Nouwen, Bread For The Journey (HarperCollins, 1997)
