The Fourth Sunday of Advent

A Perfect Christmas
Matthew 1:18-25

Later this week on Christmas Eve we will hear the more familiar account of the nativity as it is presented in Luke’s Gospel. This morning we hear the story from Matthew. And in this particular portion of the nativity story, the focus is on Joseph. Joseph doesn’t get a whole lot of attention, even this time of year. He’s in all the Holy Family pictures, but other than that we hardly notice his presence.

And yet, as I consider the story of Jesus’ birth, I wonder if the character whom we are most like is not Joseph. None of us is Mary, individually chosen to physically bear God’s own Son. We are not the angels; our feet are firmly rooted on earth. Hopefully, we do not play Herod’s part. Nor are we the exotic Magi. We may, perhaps, have some things in common with the shepherds who came to see. And, much later, Jesus himself will suggest that we are like sheep.

But, overall, it seems to me that we have a lot in common with Joseph. Which certainly makes him worthy of our attention on this last Sunday of Advent as we look forward, soon, to our celebration of Jesus’ birth. Joseph did not have the unique and mysterious role of God-bearer that Mary did, but he was asked to welcome the Son of God into his home, into his life, into his family.

It could not have been easy. In Lesser Feasts and Fasts, the book that outlines our celebration of saints’ days, Joseph is described in nuanced and strangely modern sounding language as “the guardian of [God’s] incarnate son and spouse of his virgin mother.” The relationships were complicated. Yet Joseph evidenced gentleness, humility and obedience to God.

It is pure speculation, but what might Joseph’s reaction have been to Mary’s pregnancy? It must have been a monumental disruption to his life and his plans and expectations. He might have felt he had lost all control over his own life. Could he get it back? Could he take charge of the situation again? This unplanned pregnancy was also significant, negatively significant, in the eyes of society. How could Joseph salvage this situation? Matthew tells us that Joseph had resolved to “dismiss Mary quietly,” in contrast to disgracing her publicly, which he might have done. But then the angel came and Joseph chose obedience to God over trying to reclaim personal control over the situation.

The angel also said that this child was God’s own, conceived of the Holy Spirit. Again, it is an exercise of imagination, but what might Joseph’s reaction have been to that part of the story? Maybe an overwhelming sense of responsibility and anxiety. How could he prepare adequately, appropriately for the birth of God’s son? This makes choosing the wall color and décor for the nursery seem trivial indeed. Never mind trying to ensure that the crib model is safe. How could he make sure that this wondrous birth happened as it should? He might have even come to feel that the success of this momentous event depended upon him. Surely the birth of God’s Son demanded ultimate preparation. And that was his responsibility.

It’s easy to imagine that Joseph might have felt responsible for the success of the first Christmas. We seem to feel that way today, every year. That a “successful” Christmas depends upon our preparations. Even if we think we’re defining “success” in the right way. Even if we define a successful Christmas as one which retains a focus on the “reason for the season.” Even if we define a successful Christmas as one filled with peace and holy hope. Even if we define what constitutes a successful Christmas with our eyes on Jesus, still, we seem to feel that achieving that success depends upon us, upon our perfect preparation. We feel that we are responsible for creating a successful Christmas.

Thinking about this reminded me of weddings. Not Mary and Joseph’s wedding, about which we hear nothing, but weddings at which I have presided. I will confess, along with many of my clergy colleagues, that weddings are not always my favorite thing. This isn’t true, of course, of any of the weddings at which I have preside here, but weddings can make normal, rational, faithful, faith-filled (!) people go crazy. Especially as the wedding day approaches people seem to imagine that the success of the marriage depends upon perfect preparations and arrangements for the wedding. The hope, the goal, is a good one: a good marriage, rich in love and hope. The problem begins when people begin to think that a good or successful marriage depends upon a perfect wedding. Many would deny they feel that way, but their actions tell the true story.

We don’t know Joseph’s true thoughts of feelings. But his actions show obedience to God. We might also imagine that as a faithful Jew of his day he knew and believed in a God who acted momentously in the lives of God’s people. And God’s actions weren’t dependent upon the people’s preparation. God acted. Momentously. In ways that significantly impacted the lives of God’s people. Joseph appears to have accepted, with humility and grace, the momentous actions of God in his life. He knew that God, not he--Joseph, was the primary actor in this story.

As best we know, Joseph did not try to spin the situation back into his control or force it to conform to his, or the neighbor’s expectations. He accepted the huge change this birth would mean to his life and plans. And he was obedient to God’s expectations of him.

Looking at Joseph, maybe we can remind ourselves of the absurdity of the assumption that we are responsible for creating the perfect Christmas. That first Christmas didn’t depend upon Joseph. It wasn’t up to him to get everything just right before Jesus could be born. In these last frantic days before Christmas, maybe Joseph can remind us of how absurd it is to imagine that a successful Christmas depends upon us and our preparation.

Another preacher has written: “While we rush around ‘creating Christmas’ and getting it all wrong, Joseph walked in faith and expected God to get it right.”

We only have to do one thing at Christmas. Receive God’s gift. God will get it right. God will send his Son, Immanuel, to be with us. All we have to do is receive him, welcome him into our homes. Into our lives.

(Much of the inspiration and a good bit of the content of this sermon are drawn from a sermon by the Very Rev. Anthony F. M. Clavier, posted here on the Episcopal Church's web page, Sermons That Work.)