Matthew 1:18-25
When we picture the family of Jesus, we probably all see some variation of the same image. Jesus is at the center of the Holy Family, held in the arms of Mary who looks down upon him with quiet reverence and perhaps a small smile. Standing or kneeling above them, perhaps leaning against a wooden staff, is Joseph. He probably has a beard and a somewhat solemn expression as he looks down at his bride and the firstborn that he will raise as his own. The scene is quiet and soft and maybe a bit precious. Much of the time, these scenes would not be noticeably different without Joseph in them. In fact, there are many depictions of Mary holding her son, and very few of Joseph interacting with him at all. The authors of the Gospels themselves treat Joseph as almost an afterthought, recording little about him beyond the convenient details of his first name, town of origin, his trade, and the fact that he is a descendant of David. There were any number of men who matched his description at the time, to the point that we could almost think of him as a stand in, an ancient everyman of the Jewish community. The evangelists were so unconcerned with him in fact that he is not given a single line of speech in scripture. Even in a time and place that prioritizes the voices of men over the lives of women, the righteous descendant of David who is called upon to raise and protect the Savior of the world is silent.
What we do know about Joseph is that he is righteous and compassionate. Righteous as someone who upholds the law and practices his faith carefully and authentically. Compassionate, as Matthew shows us, because although Joseph knows the law would instruct him to hand Mary over to be punished or even killed for the perception that she violated her marriage contract, he wishes to spare his betrothed from such scandal. Joseph, a righteous man who upholds the law, chooses to forego the law by ending his contract with Mary quietly. Before an angel or any messenger of God breathes a word to him, Joseph is already willing to compromise his own values for Mary’s sake. Is it the least he could do? Absolutely. But this softness of his heart, this willingness to bend to prevent another’s breaking, is the path prepared for the message of God to reach him. Still, he needs the veil of dreams in order to handle the impact of the same message Mary has already received directly and tried to share with him herself.
An angel of the Lord appears to Joseph so that the righteous man with the tender heart can hear with unstopped ears. Do not be afraid, believe Mary, the messenger says. What she tells you is the truth, the Good News she preaches is for you too. This child that comes, he is of the Holy Spirit and he will change the world. It is no small thing, this task the angel of the Lord brings to Joseph. Joseph, an upstanding citizen, is challenged to rethink everything he knows or has been taught about purity, right living, what families are supposed to look like. Joseph not only gives Mary and Jesus legitimacy and protection, he gives Jesus a trade, a home, a name, and a way to support himself, even while he knows on some level that this child of his wife’s will never have a normal artisan’s life. Joseph has to mourn the version of his marriage he had in mind, the firstborn he expected, the modest legacy he wanted to build with his own two hands. He must embrace a mess not of his own making, and love the people entrusted to him even when he doesn’t understand them. Joseph the silent guardian wakes up from this dream and does as the angel told him. He marries Mary, and gives her shelter from prying eyes and judgmental words. He claims the child when he is born and he names him Yeshua, God Saves, giving up a father’s privilege of choosing the name of his heir. In naming Jesus, Joseph remembers the promises the angel made him, and acknowledges that the child entrusted to him will someday change the world. Shortly after, on the words of near-strangers from foreign lands, Joseph flees everything he knows to take Mary and Jesus to safety in Egypt, sparing the infant from death by Herod’s men. Joseph named the child entrusted to him “God Saves,” then Joseph saved God incarnate.
Joseph did all these things when he woke from the dream- but first, before finally falling asleep, he wavered. First he heard Mary’s tale and did not understand or believe her. He tossed and turned and prayed and mulled over how to get out of the situation before word got around. Mary’s yes may have been unfaltering; Joseph took some convincing. He had reservations and complaints and struggles. His choice to answer the call of god was a hard one, a complicated one, a hesitant one. Unlike Mary’s certainty, Joseph doubted and bargained and weighed his options. Joseph may have been a righteous man, but he was a pragmatist too. Nobody in his community would have blamed him for getting out, and honestly I don’t think history would have remembered him particularly poorly for it. Even with the hard choice he made, even with the embrace of a messy and dangerous life, Joseph is a relative blip in the story. To the best of our knowledge, he died sometime between Jesus’s 12th year and his early 30s. Joseph is not mentioned again, nor is he remembered by Jesus’s neighbors as the preacher’s father. Jesus is referred to as Mary’s son most often, not Joseph’s.
Joseph gave what he could for the time that he had, but all we know of his struggle is a few lines in a much longer story. The rest, how he lost sleep, how he questioned and doubted and wished the task had been entrusted to someone else- we can only imagine, informed by our own lives and by the lives of the saints and prophets across time and throughout the world who have been called into trials and adventures with God. In that way, Joseph is a lot like us- a faithful person trying to do what is right by God and the people he loves. It isn’t always perfect, or picturesque. I imagine Joseph looked a lot more tired in that stable than he looks in most Nativity scenes, and maybe a little less bored than most of the teenaged boys who end up playing him in pageants. Maybe he would be shocked that his likeness even made it in, two thousand years later. One thing I think we might be getting right though, in all those pristine images of the Holy Family, is in everyone’s eyes. Mary probably couldn’t take her eyes of her baby boy, that part of her that had become separate but not quite other. And Joseph was probably looking down in awe at both of them, these people he promised to love and care for as his own. A real dream, come true. Maybe in that way, Joseph is standing in for us, showing us how we might respond to God coming amongst us in an unexpected place. As we prepare to welcome our dear Savior, I hope we all take a moment to come alongside Joseph and take it all in with him. To see and know that this Good News is for us too.
Mother A Writes 