Fourth Sunday
of Advent (Year A)
Matthew 1.18-25
St. Gregory’s, Long Beach
In
two out of the three years of our three-year lectionary cycle, the Gospel for
the Fourth Sunday of Advent focuses on the Virgin Mary. In Year C (last year),
we hear the Annunciation: the account of the Archangel Gabriel coming to Mary
to announce that she will give birth to the Son of God. In Year B (next year),
we hear the Visitation: the event following the Annunciation, in which Mary
goes to visit her cousin Elizabeth who is pregnant with John the Baptist. Both
of these stories are recorded in the Gospel according to Luke. And in both of
these stories, Mary is the central figure. Which makes sense. As we move
through Advent, as we move closer and closer to Christmas and the birth of
Jesus, attention naturally shifts to the impending birth. And Mary does kinda
have an important role to play in that whole process.
But
here, in Year A of our lectionary, we hear a different take on the run-up to
Jesus’ birth. A version of the story in which Mary is referenced, and yet does
not make an actual appearance. Interesting, since the Gospel we heard today is
Matthew’s version of the birth narrative, opening with, “Now the birth of Jesus
the Messiah took place in this way . . .” Matthew does rightly reference Mary
and the fact that “she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit.” All
the key points of Jesus’ lineage: Son of God, born of a woman; therefore both
divine and human. Beyond that, Matthew chooses to focus not on Mary, the one
who would give birth to Jesus, but rather on the man Mary is engaged to—on
Joseph. Someone who has no biological involvement in the matter whatsoever. And
yet, Matthew feels it is important to make Joseph’s story the opening of his
entire Gospel. A story that is, in effect, Joseph’s version of both the
Annunciation and the birth of Jesus, all wrapped into one. But why? Other than
being betrothed to the woman who would become the Mother of God, Joseph has no
connection nor obligation to this child.
Although,
from Matthew’s perspective, Joseph has a critical role to play, by virtue of
his family history, by virtue of his genealogy. It is important to remember
that Matthew was a Jew and was writing to a Jewish audience, building a case
for how Jesus is not only the new Moses who will lead the people to liberation
and a new life, but also that he is the long-awaited Messiah. One of the key
attributes of the Messiah is that he will be of the line of David. As we hear
in Isaiah Chapter 9, “For a child has been born for us, a son given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counsellor,
Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. His authority shall grow
continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his
kingdom. He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness
from this time onwards and for evermore. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do
this” (Is 9.6-7). And as we heard in our Old Testament reading last Sunday,
also from Isaiah, “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch
shall grow out of his roots. The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him” (Is
11.1-2). Reference to Jesse, the father of David, from whom the Messiah would
descend.
There’s
just one small problem with the current situation, with the Messiah being the
Son of God and born of a human mother. Since the understanding of family
lineage is determined through the father’s line, not the mother’s, how do you
determine the lineage of Jesus? The only way the child could be considered of
the line of David would be if his father is a descendent of David. I suppose
one could argue that by virtue of being the Son of God, Jesus is of the line of
David, since David is ultimately descended from the first humans created by
God. But for the ancients, that may have been a bit of a reach in more ways
than one. So, in keeping with “we’ve always determined lineage this way,” it is
just much simpler to go with lineage of the de facto human father. Best not to
ask too many questions.
Now,
Joseph does fit the criteria. As we see in the genealogy of Jesus which is the
actual opening of Matthew’s Gospel, Joseph is indeed of the line of David.
Matthew opens his Gospel with the words: “An account of the genealogy of Jesus
the Messiah, the son of David” (Mt 1.1).
Tracing the genealogy from Abraham, through to David, to “Jacob the
father of Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born, who is called the
Messiah” (Mt 1.16). Never mind the fact that Jesus would not share blood with
Joseph. He is considered “in” by sheer virtue of being the spouse of Jesus’
biological mother. While this would not hold up under modern-day paternity
tests, it was deemed valid by God in the choosing of Mary to be the mother of
his Son. And to any human of the day, looking back, it all worked. All the
boxes were checked.
In
agreeing to buy into this proposition, Joseph is taking a huge risk. In
agreeing to allow his name to be used for purposes of establishing genealogy he
was risking his name in other ways. As we are told, “When . . . Mary had been
engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with
child from the Holy Spirit . . . Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to
expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.” Upon finding
out Mary was pregnant, Joseph’s initial reaction was to call off the marriage.
Because of the type of man he was, and obviously in love with Mary, it pained
him to do so. And yet, as we say today, it was about the optics. The immediate
presumption on the part of anyone they knew would have been that one of two
things had occurred. Either Joseph had given into temptation and slept with
Mary before they were actually married, violating social norms against
premarital sex; or, that Mary had been unfaithful to Joseph. Either way, things
would not go well for Mary. She would be subject to ridicule and shame. And
technically, under Jewish law, execution for her apparent indiscretion would be
warranted. Hence, Joseph’s initial resolve to dismiss her quietly. It was a
no-win situation. No one would believe that the child was actually conceived by
God. Who ever heard of anything like that?
Enter
the angel of the Lord, appearing to Joseph in a dream: “Joseph, son of David,
do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is
from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for
he will save his people from their sins.” There is whole lot wrapped up in the
one statement. There’s a whole lot wrapped up in one phrase: “do not be afraid
to take Mary as your wife.”
Because
Joseph would have undoubtedly had a lot of fears. Not just for the well-being
of the woman he loves, for the shame and disgrace she would have to endure. But
also for himself. Not only would her reputation be ruined, but so would his. A
man whose fiancée became pregnant would be suspect if he did not dismiss her.
It would either imply that the child was his, in which case, it said something
about his moral weakness. And if Mary had actually been unfaithful and he was
willing to forgive her and raise her child as his own could be viewed of a sign
of another form of weakness on his part. Either way, it would not look good on
him, resulting in potential shunning by his peers, being looked down upon by
those he encountered.
The
angel seeks to assure Joseph that following his true nature—obviously being
deeply compassionate—would be the best thing, and that God would take care of
the rest. Joseph, also being a man of profound faith, “did as the angel of the
Lord commanded him.”
There
is another reason for Joseph to have been afraid of taking on the role as
earthly father to the Son of God. You have to admit, raising the Son of God
would have been a daunting prospect. Perhaps Joseph was initially afraid of
getting in the way of God’s work. Of potentially messing up God’s plans. What
if he did something wrong in trying to raise Je
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