Rev. George Miller
Dec 23, 2019
Matthew 1:18-25
It’s the 4th Sunday of Advent. We have been journeying from darkness into light, following a star, about to enter into Bethlehem to see the Face of God.
The God who dreams of justice, kindness, and humility.
The God of Creation who pulls down, plucks up, builds and recreates.
The God who is full of surprises. The God who does things in the most unexpected ways.
The God who chooses a migrant family over a royal family to make Godself known.
The God who finds rest in a manger as opposed to a Marriot.
The God who sends angels to shepherds in a field as opposed to CEOS around the boardroom table.
The God who bestows upon an ordinary man the most extraordinary job of being the earthly father to the savior of all creation.
Joseph.
That’s the name of Jesus’ Dad.
No offense to any Josephs who may be here today, but Joseph is such an ordinary name.
It’s not unique, like Habakkuk.
It’s not prophetic sounding, like Jeremiah.
It’s not regal, like David.
It’s not historical, like Abraham.
Joseph, well, it’s just Joseph. Middle of the road. Common.
Sure, you can switch it up and call him Jo Bob, or Joey, or Jose. But it’s still…ordinary.
Jo Bob is the guy you play pool with at Yogi’s Bar, discussing NASCAR over a few beers.
Joey is the guy you grab a slice of pizza from when you’re at Little Italy in Avon Park.
Jose is the guy at the Caladium Festival who sells lemonade and his mother’s empanadas out of a food truck.
Joseph is a regular, righteous man.
Someone we would call the “salt of the earth” who tries his best to earn a living, raise his family, be a good citizen, and follow his faith.
So….imagine what it would be like for Joseph, Jo Bob, Joey, Jose to be living in a small town.
The kind where everyone knows your name. Everyone knows your family. Everyone goes to church (or at least gives the impression they go to church), and everyone knows your business.
Joseph works during the day, enjoys a drink when he’s done, and volunteers at the local synagogue.
And then word gets around that his fiancé is pregnant. They’re not married, and there’s no proof that it’s his.
Imagine the gossip that would fly.
Joseph goes to Yogi’s and the guys start razzing him, taking jabs at his masculinity, making jokes at his experience.
He and Mary step into CVS and all of a sudden they can feel all eyes on them and see the cashiers whispering to one other.
He’s at the synagogue and one of the elders comes up to him with concerns about Mary’s condition, worried about what kind of example they’re setting for the children, and says something like…
“Well, you know that Deuteronomy 22:20-30 does say that Mary should be stoned to death and purged from Israel.”
Or he takes Mary to the family cook out and over the potato salad and sweet tea he hears what all his uncles and aunties are saying.
How do you think Joseph may have responded to his community?
Do you think he may have gotten into a fight or two and taken a few punches?
Do you think his male ego would have been a bit bruised?
Do you think he would have questioned his faith and all the commandments?
Do you think he would have questioned or been angry with God?
If Joseph was human, he would have.
If Joseph had not thought of any of these things, there would’ve been no reason for him to think about sending Mary away.
If Joseph had not felt any of these things there would’ve been no reason for an angel to appear in a dream saying “Do not be afraid.”
If Joseph was not morally, ethically conflicted there would have been no reason for him to receive the Ok to take Mary as his wife, child and all.
If Joseph was some otherworldy, practically perfect, wholesomely holy icon he never would have needed any of these things.
But Joseph…was Joseph.
He was just a man. Ordinary. Flawed.
Human.
Which would have meant that when he learned Mary was pregnant he would have felt scared, unsure, torn between what scripture told him and what his heart was saying.
He must have felt totally and utterly despondent and totally and utterly …alone.
…BUT into this dark night of his soul came hope.
Into this dark night of the soul came peace and love.
For Joseph finds the assurance he needs, the guidance he requires, and the understanding that somehow, some way God is working through all these things.
The result is that Joseph keeps his commitment to Mary and when her child is born, it is Joseph who names him: Jesus, which means “God Is My Salvation.”
As one theologian stated, it is through the act of naming Jesus that Joseph adopts him into his family and brings him into the Davidic line.
Think about that for a moment. According to one scholar, Jesus was adopted by Joseph.
Why does this matter? Because it means that Jesus came from a non-traditional family.
It also means that Jesus was raised by 2 ordinary people with 2 ordinary names who played a role in the most extraordinary event by ushering in the Savior of the World.
Not Caesar and one of his wives.
Not Beyonce and Jay-Z.
Not Ron and Nancy Reagan.
But Joseph and Mary, the Jack and Diane of their time, doing the best they can.
They would have been the ones who would have waited on line at the Shepherd’s Pantry.
They would have been amongst the families lining Ridgewood Ave waiting for the parade to begin.
They would have been the ones lining up displays during the overnight shift at Wal-Mart.
This makes Joseph and Mary, in my opinion, all the more wonderful, all the more real, all the more true.
It would mean that Jesus would most likely have grown up in a family that struggled to pay their bills.
His Dad may have had to get a 2nd job.
His mother may have done things like slice the toothpaste tube down the middle to get another week’s worth, put water in the ketchup bottle and shake it up, and use margarine containers to hold any leftovers.
Think of Jesus being like one of us, with a Dad called Joseph and a Mom called Mary. Knowing all too well what it’s like:
to struggle,
to worry,
to hope,
to dream,
to live within history,
to have your life disrupted by
unexpected events.
Jesus, Immanuel, Son of God, really knew what it was like to be one of us because he was one of us.
And perhaps that is the greatest surprise of all.
That when God came down to earth, when God revealed Godself, in the midst of all the places and possibilities there could have been,
God chose to do so in a way that did not separate God from the human condition.
God did so in a way that intrinsically connected God to humanity and creation forever.
God, whose spirit moved over the waters, who parted the seas, who spoke from the mountain, and empowered kings and queens to do amazing things,
would choose an ordinary man, with an ordinary life, with an ordinary name to be the caretaker of the Cosmo’s savior.
And in doing so, God validates that all of us matter, all of us have a purpose, and all of us can be vehicles for God’s great surprises.
For that we can say “Amen.”
A UCC Pastor's walk through the spiritual waters of Scripture, pop culture and life.
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