Somewhere on my bookshelf I have a book called Mary's Yes – there are hundreds of such books – I suspect that there might not be one called Joseph's Yes. The place where Matthew begins with the story of Jesus seems less familiar to us – he looks through Joseph's eyes, he questions the rules of the establishment but, somehow, he still offers the same revolutionary story penned in the more accessible Gospel of Luke.
Matthew starts at the beginning, but it is not the same beginning as Luke – it is a traditional Jewish beginning. Matthew starts his Gospel with a genealogy. Our reading today starts at verse 18 of the first chapter of Matthew – before it lay three sets of fourteen names, the lineage of Jesus stretching back to Abraham.
If we did not know what we were going to get in Matthew's Gospel this structure in the first few verses might alert us to the fact that Matthew is a traditionalist – he is constructing his Gospel within the acceptable norms of Jewish literature. Numbers are important, as well as words. If you follow the Old Testament back you will find that Matthew actually omits people from his list in order to make it fit the traditional form – historical accuracy is an invention of the modern age – Matthew was writing in a world where symbolism and hidden meaning were richer sources of truth that mere dates and times.
But then in all this tradition there is a surprise – there are four women in the list, and not just any women, these are gentile women. Matthew is often seen as rather guarded – unlike the more effusive Luke. It is Luke who is credited with being the champion of the underdog – but here in the first few verses of Matthew we find a writer who is also looking (albeit in a more subtle manner than Luke) at the Gospel's reach beyond the traditional bounds of male Judaism.
It is important to take this context before looking at the Gospel today. It is easy to gloss over Joseph as a bit part in the whole Nativity story. It is true that Joseph does not appear in the Gospels after Jesus begins his ministry but we have to assume that he took the role of a father through Jesus' formative years.
Matthew tells the story from Joseph's perspective and is sympathetic to him. Joseph is engaged and finds his future wife is pregnant. If this happened to someone we knew we would expect them to be hurt and angry and we might assume that both of these emotions went through Joseph. The Jewish law certainly was very strict on this sort of thing – public disgrace would have been the minimum which Mary could have expected. But Joseph puts his mind to a gentler task, he will simply walk away.
What happens next is an echo of Mary's own calling – God calls Joseph to an extraordinary task – he is asked to walk alongside Mary, to take her as his wife. The faith which Joseph displays in undertaking this task cannot be underplayed – he was allowing himself to step into a world of disgrace – a world in which he would not be understood – a world where everything would be different.
So whilst Matthew's account of the birth of Jesus is not so radically inclusive as Lukes it does offer balance - both of the people who are close to Jesus have been called by God to this ministry – calls given to each and accepted by each.
Saying yes to God is a hard task but there is a little phrase which slips into Biblical literature so often that we almost cease to hear it, “do not be afraid.” Do not be afraid – Joseph is told, just as Mary is told by the angel and the shepherds will be told as they are called down from the hills. It is a phrase which is repeated time and again, Moses, Abraham, Ruth - to name but a few and often the whole nation – do not be afraid of this task, this course, this amazing journey which I am calling you to.
The phrases “do not fear” and “do not be afraid” turn up over 100 times in the Bible. Not all of them are from the mouth of God or angels but most of them offer quiet reassurance that there is a purpose beyond the current feeling of worry. God's purpose is an outworking of God's love – time and again the prophets reassure the people – do not be afraid, you are God's people and God will provide.
There is such a tenderness and gentle care from God as God approaches people first by soothing their fears. This coming alongside even reminds us of the Incarnation itself – as God steps alongside humanity in human form – such is our God – amazingly close.
In the Old Testament we often see people afraid of God and of the sacred. Quite apart from what God might ask them to do there is a more basic reason for this – that the Holy is dangerous – that seeing God would mean certain death. Remember how afraid Isaiah is in God's presence,
‘Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!’ (Is 6:5). In this case God does not use words to reassure but there is symbolism of cleansing. Isaiah is cleansed and called and responds – yes. God can make Godself known intimately to humanity – God can make that possible and offers comfort in the process.
Our sense of holiness, of the complete otherness of God is not as marked as the Old Testament. We have the experience of Jesus – God in our own form, tangible and accessible. It would be a different sermon to explore how our culture has diminished the sense of awe but still we are often afraid of God actually communicating with us as individuals.
Part of this might be the whole process of discernment. The clear and unequivocal call of the prophets and apostles is simply not what many of us experience. Saying yes to God is just not that clear cut. We find God's will through layers and unfoldings of life rather than as suddenly presented. Sometimes this seems to take more time and patience than we wish to give it – sometimes we do not like the answers which God does give and prefer to sit and wait, hoping something different will come along.
Then there are the more external blocks to God's will – blocks which can produce very real fear. There is the fear of what others might think of us or do to us. There is a fear of having to let go of things which we value or which make us feel comfortable but more than that, perhaps, is the fear of allowing ourselves to be who God really created us to be.
But to all of this comes that calm message of reassurance – do not be afraid. God knows us from the inside out and through every moment of our lives. This in itself should be a profound message of ease – God already knows. So, for example, when we say sorry to God, we are not saying anything that God does not know, we are acknowledging what God does already know – and God smiles on that and forgives.
Where we are held in God's hands is a place of love.
Whilst we might all be a bit fed up with the snow, there is a quiet that it brings, muffling the sounds, blanketing the world in an odd quiet. We would do well to hold onto that odd quiet in this last week of Advent, to calm our souls and muffle the sounds of busy-ness which make our world so noisy. We would do well to tarry, to wait, to linger with intent upon God. To listen. To feel our breath. To hold ourselves, as ourselves before God. In that quiet, in that being who we are we will find an invitation to come and see this baby in the manger. We will find a gentle breath of reassurance – do not be afraid and we will find a simple word -yes.
No comments:
Post a Comment