A Cause for Peace
Matt. 1:18-25
Rabbi, I am afraid. Everything in my life has been turned upside down, and for the first time in my life, I do not know what to do. What’s wrong? Mary is going to have a baby and it is not mine.
When I was a child and my parents arranged my marriage to Mary, I never dreamed I could come to love her so much. But when the time of our betrothal came, she had captured my heart completely. We have been honorable throughout the year of betrothal. Now that the time is nearing the end, I was so looking forward to claiming my bride, to bringing her into my home and starting a family of my own.
Now I find that she has been unfaithful to me! I know, I know. I could not believe it myself when I found out. Mary has always seemed such a faithful and wonderful young woman. I know that in Judea, betrothed couples are allowed to spend time alone together—but Mary would not hear of it. We followed the custom of our people here in Galilee—we were always chaperoned. Neither Mary nor I wanted any question about our character and our commitment to God’s ways. And now this—I find that she has made a fool of me. Her piety was unreal. Her faith was just a lie.
Where is she now? Not that it makes a difference, but she’s run off to see her cousin, Elizabeth. Mary claims that her pregnancy is not what I think, and she claims to have been told by an angel to go and see Elizabeth. I think she’s just trying to run away from the trouble she’s in.
Rabbi, what should I do? Divorce her? Of course—that is the only way to break a betrothal. I must give her a bill of divorcement. But beyond the divorce itself—how should I handle the situation? That is where I am confused.
Of course your right, the law demands that Mary pay for what she has done. You know me, Rabbi. From childhood I have been raised to follow God. His will has always been the main goal of my life. I have followed his law as closely as I know how. How can I turn my back on his Law now?
To be honest, part of me wants nothing else but justice here. She betrayed my trust. She broke our vows of commitment to each other. She has to pay. It has been years and years since the law of stoning an adulteress has been carried out (Rome looks down on our Law). But, if I divorce her publicly, she will carry the shame of her unfaithfulness the rest of her life. No man will ever want her again, and every time she looks at the child of her unfaithfulness she will be reminded of her sin and guilt.
That is what I ought to do, Rabbi—I know this. But the larger part of me wants something more than justice. Please do not look at me with such disappointment. I love her, Rabbi. No matter what she has done to me, I love her—and I do not want to hurt my betrothed. While I clearly cannot marry her, I do not want her to be shamed. I do not want society to see her as an evil person. Rabbi, part of me tells me to let the whole world know what she had done to me. My love tells me to show her mercy. Is there a way I can be merciful? Is there a way I can protect her from shame? Is there a way I can find peace in this time of confusion in my life?
I am sorry to disappoint you, Rabbi. I know that righteousness demands justice. I just do not think I can carry justice through here. I will go home now. I need time to think this through. Thank you for listening. I hope that someday you will understand why I am in such a dilemma. Perhaps we can talk tomorrow, after I have slept and hopefully cleared my head? Good, good—then I will see you tomorrow.
Rabbi! Rabbi! You will never believe what has happened! After I left you, I went home and thought and prayed through most of the evening til late in the night. I finally reached my decision. I would divorce Mary quietly—give her the bill of divorcement and simply not list a charge. She could then go to live with Elizabeth, far enough away that no one would ever know what happened. I could just tell people that we decided to end the betrothal and leave it at that. Mary would be free to live her life how she saw fit. She could find someway to hide her shame.
You looked so shocked. I knew that you would not be pleased, but this was the only way I seemed to be able to handle the situation. I simply could not put Mary to public shame.
But my tale does not end with this decision, Rabbi. Something amazing happened to me last night. In the midst of my prayers to God for a sure guidance, I fell asleep—and in that sleep, an angel of the Lord appeared to me. Yes, Rabbi—I had a vision. The Lord spoke to me through his angel.
That was amazing enough, but what he had to say was even more amazing! Rabbi, Mary was not lying to me. Her pregnancy is a miracle. The Holy Spirit of God created the new life within her. She has not be unfaithful at all—she has been touched by God!
You look at me as though I were quite mad. But it is true—I am not insane or deceived. The angel told me that Mary’s child was the child of hope for all people. He told me that this child would be the salvation of the world—he would save his people from their sins. He even told me what to name the boy, “JESUS!” Yes, I am to give this boy the name, “The Lord is Salvation.”
Rabbi, I know that this seems incredible. But I really do believe the vision that came to me in the night—I really do believe that Mary is still a virgin, untouched by another man. The child she carries comes from God—the child she carries is going to be the Messiah of God! Rabbi, I have a peace that I would have believed impossible yesterday. God has taken away my fears. He has given me assurance. My troubled heart is troubled no longer! Mary has been true to our love. I am going to bring her into my home to be my wife as soon as she returns from Elizabeth’s home.
Now you look at me with disgust. Rabbi, surely there should be a place for faith in our hearts. Is it so hard for you to believe that God has spoken to me? Is it so hard to believe that God could work this tremendous miracle? I have heard you pray for the coming of Messiah—I know that you long to see the Deliverer of our people. Please believe me—Mary is telling the truth.
What? You say that you will do the right thing even if I do not. You are going to make sure that people know the kind of person Mary is? Rabbi, you have no right. You claim the right in the name of God! But Rabbi, God is the one who has let me know what I should do.
I tell you that it does not matter to me what you say. I knew that others would not believe, but I hoped that you would. But it does not matter. When Mary becomes my wife, I know that there will be cruel remarks. I know that she will be spoken about it whispers. There will always be people who choose to believe the very worst. But I make a vow before God this day—Mary will be my wife, and I will always be there for her—I will stand between her and the hatred. She will not be alone to face the cruelty that will come if you keep your word and deny her publicly. It does not matter what the world believes—I know the truth. I hope and pray that one day, you will know the truth as well.
I am going to Mary now. I cannot let her think that I have abandoned her any longer. Yesterday, I wanted her to grovel at my feet begging for forgiveness. Today, I am going to beg her forgiveness for my lack of trust in her. I love her, Rabbi—and I will be proud to raise her child as my own. I will love him as though he were my own. And because of God’s gracious act toward me last night, I know that I can have peace, because I know that God is with us.
I confess to you that I am still confused. I do not know how to be a father. I certainly do not know how to raise a King. But I do know this—I will look to God for guidance. I will trust that he will show me the way. This child will be raised hearing the Word of God. And one day, I do not know how—he will bring peace to all who will receive him. For he will be called, “JESUS” — and he will bring God’s salvation into this world.
