Wake up, Shut up, and Obey

A sermon for the 4th Sunday of Advent, based on Matthew 1: 18-25

Joseph, the husband of Mary, never speaks in the bible.  Not one word.  Not in this annunciation story and not in the story  of Jesus getting lost in the temple when he’s twelve.  We never hear from this Joseph.

And because of his lack of eloquence, I think Joseph gets very little attention.

Mary on the other hand, had an in-the-flesh conversation with an angel.  She voiced her concern to the angel who promised that Mary–a virgin–would give birth to the son of God.  Mary asked the Messenger of God, “How can this be?” and responded to the angel, “Here I am, the servant of the Lord.  Let it be with me according to your word.”

Mary is elevated in this birth narrative.  She responded to God’s call in the spirit of the prophet Samuel, and sang the the triumphant song of Hannah, her ancestor.  Mary’s words were powerful, hopeful, and strong–they came from a teen-aged girl, who was going to risk her life to bring the Son of God into the world.

Mary’s words are worthy of repetition.  And considering the status of Mary–poor, young, and female–I’m thrilled that the Gospel of Luke gave  her a strong and powerful voice in the narrative.

Because the birth narrative includes words from women like Mary and Elizabeth, Mary’s song–the magnificat–is already coming into reality–the fact that the women in this text have a voice means that the lowly–the women–are already being lifted up.

The story of Mary is magnificent–beautiful and rich–but I think it’s worth our time to also consider Joseph’s story, and what Joseph does not say.

But first some context:

Mary’s pregnancy puts Joseph in a difficult position for a number of reasons.  First, it doesn’t sound like Mary told Joseph that she was pregnant.  The scripture says “she was found to be with child”, not that she told Joseph she was with child.  We are left to assume that Joseph learned about the pregnancy through the rumor mill.  Not the best way to learn that your betrothed is pregnant.

Also, there’s a lot of this text that is quite tricky–as was pointed out to me by my Rabbi friend, Adam.  There are some complications about the meaning of marriage in this text.  Engagement and marriage are far more closely connected in the ancient Jewish tradition than in our modern context.  The engagement is when the father of a woman signed a contract with the man–it is at that point that the marriage is official. This marriage contract can go on for several years before  the consummation, then celebration.  But the contract was still officially a marriage.

In fact, Rabbi Adam told me that this became such a problem in the community, that if you’ve ever been to a Jewish wedding, the engagement happens in the ceremony, immediately followed by the proclamation of marriage.  That’s how the Rabbi’s solved the complications of being officially married but not living-with-your-partner married.

Also, it says in the text that Joseph was prepared to quietly divorce her.  Which is impossible.  Divorce was rare, and scandalous.  And it could not be done quietly.  It would be a public disgrace.  Joseph was prepared to end this marriage quietly while maintaining the dignity of all, but it could not be done.

And then, just as Joseph had decided to go the not-so-quiet divorce route (which is better than the stoning the adulterer route), an angel appeared to Joseph.  Not live and in person as the angel appeared to Mary, but in a dream.  And this was not a conversation between Joseph and the angel, but a time of instruction.  The angel said this, “Joseph, don’t be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her comes from the Holy Spirit.  She will have a son, and you will name him Jesus, because he will save the people from their sins.”

And after this instruction in the form of a dream, Joseph woke up, and did what he was told to do.

He woke up and followed the instructions of God.  There was no questioning, no arguing.  He woke up and finished the marriage proceedings.  He woke up and obeyed.

As a progressive feminist christian living in an individualistic society, I elevate the words and actions of Mary.  I recognize Mary’s eloquence and faithfulness in an impossible situation.  I recognize her powerful voice in a time and place where this voice would not have otherwise been recorded.  Mary’s actions and words are key to this story.

But without the quiet faithfulness of Joseph, the simple obedience of the betrothed of Mary, there would be no story.  There would probably be no Mary, no Jesus, and no good news. Joseph’s quiet faithfulness meant a family stayed together and was protected, a young woman was alive, and the Son of God came into the world in this time and place.

Joseph did that great thing that Jesus was always telling people to do in his ministry–he “woke from sleep” to see the surprising truth of his situation.

In any other story of its time, we’d not hear from Mary; we’d hear Joseph’s point of view.  We’d hear how Joseph valiantly saved young poor Mary.  We’d hear how those with privilege and power reached down to save Mary from stoning and disgrace.

But this is not the good news we hear.  We hear a story of a poor young woman, an all but married virgin, pregnant with the son of God.  We hear how she asked questions then said yes.  And we hear that the man who–in his power, and in his privilege–could have ended it all, shut his mouth and did as he was told.

This birth story is all kinds of upside down.  It is the lowly lifted up.  The rich sent away empty, the poor speaking, and all those in between for once doing what they are told.

I often identify with Mary in the birth narrative.  I remember what it was like to be pregnant, the anticipation, the excitement, the hopefulness that my children will be someone special.

But today I know I’m Joseph.  I’m the one that needs to wake up, shut up, and do what God asks me to do.  I am not the one to argue with God.  I’m the one that needs to take instruction from God, and privilege those in low places.

During this season of Advent, we’ve been thinking about what gets in the way of our ability to be open to God.  We’ve talked about technology that causes us to look away or sleep.  Or our money or schedules that preoccupies our thoughts.

But today, I have to recognize that it’s my own privilege that keeps me sleeping.  It’s my privilege that gives me the audacity to argue with God, and reason with the most high.  It’s my privilege that gets in the way of simply following God.

Today, in the silence of Joseph, we are left with these last advent questions–can we wake up?  Can we shut up?  Can we follow?  Can we obey?  Or, will we favor our reputation, a protection of what we have, or the safety and comfort of sleep?  Can we lay aside our privilege to become a part of the story God is unfolding?

May this advent season disrupt and awaken your spirit to the Good News of God with us.  AMEN.