Jesu Juva
St. Matthew 1:18-25
December 18, 2022
Advent 4A
Dear saints of our Savior~
There he is—poor Joseph. Every other character in the Nativity of our Lord seems to shine brighter than poor Joseph. Mary gets called “blessed” by all
The real life Joseph to whom Saint Matthew introduces us today did, in fact, start out a little bit wobbly, shaky and unsteady. But who can blame him? Joseph and Mary were pledged to be married. That meant that after a time of courtship, a formal marriage contract had been signed before witnesses. We might say they were engaged; but their engagement was tantamount to marriage among the Jews of that time. They were as good as married, except for the physical consummation of their marriage. This marriage was a done deal. In fact, it would take a divorce to put asunder what God had already joined together.
A divorce is exactly what Joseph had in mind—not a full-blown, public, tabloid-style divorce, but a quiet, quick, face-saving separation that would allow Joseph to walk away from this marriage. In fairness to Joseph, we should point out that his bride-to-be was great with child. Pious Joseph could conceive of only one explanation for that conception: Mary had been unfaithful. Joseph was a practical man, a carpenter who worked with his hands. He knew full well how pregnancies came about, and he knew that it wasn’t “by the Holy Spirit.” To proceed with a lifelong commitment to this pregnant bride would make Joseph the talk of the town of Nazareth—the man about whom all the wagging tongues would be whispering. He would be teased, taunted, and gossiped about.
Joseph just didn’t have the stomach for all that. Would you? Joseph must have agonized over this long and hard, but in the end he chose to take the easy way out of a difficult situation. He was fearful instead of faithful. He opted for selfishness over sacrifice. He would divorce Mary and divorce himself from the whole distasteful drama. Some see Joseph’s plans as the honorable, decent thing to do. But consider for a moment what this “decent, honorable” divorce would have led to: Mary would have been left abandoned and alone, to give birth to a child in a culture where the survival of mothers and children depended almost entirely upon husbands and fathers.
Now, we shouldn’t be too hard on Joseph—especially since we’re an awful lot like him. How often have we chosen to push our own personal “easy button,” instead of doing the difficult task laid out before us? How often have we been fearful instead of faithful—imagining and expecting the worst in every situation? How regularly do we choose selfishness over sacrifice—always expending as little effort as we can possibly get away with? How quickly have we divorced ourselves from everyone and every situation that we find difficult or distasteful? How often have we chosen to do what’s quick and convenient instead of doing what’s right and honorable and God-pleasing?
In our marriages and in our families, in our jobs and careers, in the classroom and right here in the church of Jesus Christ—we have all readily retreated from the responsibilities of our God-given vocations. We are all derelict in our God-given duties. Looking back at the past twelve months it’s terribly clear how much we love ourselves and how little we love those whom God has given us to love? On our best days we are wobbly and unsteady like Joseph. On our worst days we are unrecognizable as children of God. And every day we are desperately in need of a Savior from our sins.
And this brings us back to Joseph, with whom we have so much in common. And as you well know, the story of Joseph does, in fact, have a very happy—very joyful—ending. In the end, Joseph did the difficult thing. In the end, wobbly, unsteady Joseph became faithful and fearless. He became unafraid to plunge headfirst into the miraculous messiness of his marriage to Mary—a match made in heaven, to be sure.
But what about our messy, complicated lives? What about the sticky-wickets that threaten to derail us into shame and sin? Will our stories—like Joseph’s—also have happy endings? How will we ever be faithful and fearless—when doing that will be difficult and distasteful?
Let’s begin by listening—listening like Joseph listened. Listen to the Word of God. This is what Joseph did. For Joseph, those words were delivered by an angel—a messenger. But make no mistake, the words were God’s words: Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you—yes, YOU, Joseph—will have the high and holy privilege of giving Him the name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins.
Those words of God changed everything for Joseph. God’s Word penetrated Joseph’s selfish slumber. His Grinch-like heart grew three sizes that night. His scrooge-like attitude toward Mary and her baby melted away. As he went to bed that night he was pondering how he might evade and waffle and schwaffle his way out of doing a difficult thing. But the Word of God changed everything; and Joseph woke up with the strength and the stomach to do the difficult thing—to take the next step—to love Mary with his whole heart and then to be the first man among men to name Mary’s Son and to claim Mary’s Son as His Savior from sin and death.
Beloved in the Lord, on this fourth Sunday in Advent in the year of our Lord 2022, the Word of God changes everything for you too. God’s Word brought grace to an unworthy, undeserving Joseph. Today God’s grace in Jesus comes to you as well—grace that covers a multitude of sins. The name that matters most today is not Joseph, but Jesus. That name really tells the whole story today—for you, for me, for all the people of God, for Christmases past, present and future. The name “Jesus” says it all. The name “Jesus” means “The Lord saves.”
You have been saved by Jesus who took your place as your sacred substitute, starting in the womb of His virgin mother. Jesus dared to do what was difficult, distasteful, and impossible. Jesus chose sacrifice over selfishness. Jesus chose nails and thorns. Jesus did not fear to take as His holy bride sinners like us—unfaithful and adulterous to the core. In the cleansing splash of your baptism Jesus Himself has named you and claimed you as His own. And the price for this naming and claiming was His crucifixion cross where wagging tongues taunted and mocked this most gracious bridegroom.
Why did He do it? Why did Jesus do this most difficult thing? To save His people from their sins. So that sinners like you and me and Joseph and Mary can find our help in the name of the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. His name is Jesus—the name declared by Joseph when Jesus was circumcised on the 8th day.
Matthew specifies that it was Joseph who named the baby Jesus. But isn’t it interesting that there’s not one recorded word of Joseph in the entire New Testament. There’s not a single syllable spoken by the carpenter from Nazareth that the Holy Spirit saw fit to preserve for us. There’s no song of Joseph, such as Mary’s Magnificat or Simeon’s Nunc Dimittis. No, Joseph was apparently the strong, silent type. And let there be no doubt that Joseph’s actions speak far louder than any words he might have uttered. Joseph’s faith was shown in quiet actions of generosity and gentleness. Later on, when Herod threatened to kill the boy Jesus, Joseph led his family to safety in Egypt. He settled his family back in Nazareth once the danger had passed. And once Jesus hits the age of twelve, we never ever hear of Joseph again.
God’s Word had its way with Joseph; and God’s Word will have its way with you too. For in that Word, God is with us. In the splash of Holy Baptism, in the bread that is His body and in the wine that is His blood. In these precious means God is with us, bringing forgiveness and faith and courage to do the difficult work of your vocations—so that both your words and your actions can carry the same faithfulness as Joseph’s. Keep that in mind when you’re feeling wobbly and unsteady—when all your options seem difficult and distasteful. God is with you . . . to save you. Pleased as man with man to dwell—Jesus, our Immanuel. Amen.
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