Sermon 122409 Christmas Eve
Stone her to death! The thought popped into his head, but it didn’t last long. He could have said it out loud, he could have shouted it. It was his right to call for it after all. It was written right there in the 5th Book of Moses. Right in Deuteronomy. Obviously something had happened to his fiancée, she was pregnant, and not by him.
He was angry. But his anger wouldn’t last, it couldn’t last. Even though she was engaged to him. Even though she was no pregnant with another’s child. Even though the only conclusion he could logically come to was that she had been unfaithful, and broken the vow of engagement (much more binding than these days). Even though he had a RIGHT to punish her. What he had a right to do, was not as important as doing the right thing.
He was hurt, he was a broken man, he was mad. But he was still in love. And love doesn’t let go so easily. So Joseph, “being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly.” It was the only thing he could think to do in such a situation. They weren’t married, but in those days, being engaged was a legal binding thing. And they would need to be legally separated.
But even as he resolved to do what he thought was best, I can help but imagine that he kept thinking to himself, “How did this happen? How did we get here?” In his mind he could picture so clearly the first day he saw her and had the courage to go up and talk to her. He could feel his palm get clammy as he thought about the day he mustered the courage to go and talk to her dad and ask his blessing upon their engagement. The silly smile (awkward and shy) they gave each other when someone said, “I hope you have many, many children!” He even smiled when he thought about his buddies on the job site, and how much they chided him about not being able to concentrate on his work because he was thinking about Mary, and the marriage, and everything else.
Then, all at once, everything was broken. Everything was gone. His mind was a tangled mess of dreams, and plans, and hopes that would never be anything more than dreams, and plans, and hopes. It was all broken. And it all hurt so bad.
He would try to get some sleep. He’d go and talk to the Rabbi in the morning. “What mess!” he cried out in his lonely room. Then he laid his head down and the sharp edges of broken thoughts cut into his brain and into his sleep, but he managed to drift off somehow. But that night, Joseph would not be alone. An intruder, would break into his room, and into his life, and into his pain. An angel spoke to him in a holy dream: “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.” Joseph’s mind grasped to make sense of it all, “This child was from God, from the Holy Spirit, wait, that means that this child is GOD!”
Then the Angel told him what to name this child, and what his mission will be: “She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” This Child will be called Jesus, Yeshua, GOD SAVES! This child is the Savior! The Messiah! As Joseph awoke, the words of Isaiah the prophet came flooding into his mind, “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel,” (which means, God with us).”
The brokenness was gone. In its place was now profound awe and wonder. God with us! And he truly was. The same God who created the world in 6 days, the same God who walked with Adam and Eve in the garden, the same God who was with the children of Israel in the wilderness in the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night, the same God who physically filled the tabernacle, and the most holy place of the temple, was now really here. Really with them. Really growing inside Mary’s womb, right now!
My guess is that he ran to see her, and that she was surprised to see him. That she maybe even wasn’t so sure why he came. Was he going to call for her punishment, or send her away, or what? But Joseph didn’t do any of those things. He just said he believed her. He just did what he was commanded, and took her as his wife. And their journey together began.
It’s a story we love for so many reasons. One is that it is a story that starts in brokenness and fear and ends in a manger, with a baby born healthy and happy to a young couple, so ordinary, so dependent upon God, so in shock that all this was really happening, and that THEY of all people had been given this huge responsibility. It could only be from God, and of God, and because of God. This was his loves story unfolding before their eyes.
Not just a love story for Mary and Joseph, but God’s story of love for all of humanity. His story of love for you. And if there is one reason why we are here this evening, it’s just that. That in this little baby Jesus, and in Mary and Joseph, you see God loving you, God sending his son to you. To be your Savior, and your Immanuel.
There were all kinds of people gathered around that manger that night. We can see Joseph, called to be the protector, and provider, the step-father to the Prince of Peace. A role he took on with purpose, and did so well. In the light of the candles we see him there, a carpenter, with rough hands, tired from the long journey, and worrying the whole way about his young pregnant bride and her baby. And he smiles, thankful his wife and baby are OK, even if they are in a stall usually reserved for animals.
We see her there too. Mary, who has gone through so many changes at such a short amount of time. 9 months earlier, she had been considered a maiden, a young girl. And now, she found herself in the taxing roles of being a grown woman, and a wife, and a mother. I’m sure the thought of somehow nurturing, and teaching, and holding the hands of the Savior of the world as he learned to walk were overwhelming to her. But tonight she just held him close. He was the hope of the world; the baby called Jesus, the Immanuel, God with us. Yes, he was all these, but tonight, he was her baby, he was here, and he was beautiful.
Soon there would visitors: Shepherds who where living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. They would arrive to greet this new family. I can imagine the conversation, “Excuse me, I know it seems odd that we’d come to see you in the middle of the night, but the most incredible thing just happened!” They would tell the story just as it had happened: 9An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. 11Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. 12This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."
13Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
14"Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."
15When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."
So, they ran! And there they were. And most importantly, there HE was. What a sight to see the shepherds; Men who were often known for being a rough lot, and maybe a bit smelly, and not usually regular temple-goers, and often times given to drink and cuss; here kneeling solemnly at the make-shift crib. These tough guys staring into the eyes of this little baby, with tears filling their own. This is the picture of Christmas! So familiar, so wonderful, so delightful, so worshipful.
But there is something missing from this scene. Something that no painter has been able to capture with a brush, or sculptor with his chisel. What we can’t see is what is going in inside each of these people as they stand, and kneel, and worship around this manger. We can’t see the brokenness and sin and pain that each has brought with them to that manger stall that first Christmas night. And this is perhaps the most important part of the picture we all know so well.
Because if there is one thing we can relate to in this whole story it is just this. No matter where we come from tonight to worship this Jesus, no matter who we are, or how we appear on the outside, or how much we have or don’t have, or anything else. The one thing we all share is that each of us is simply one, among many broken, sinful people staring in awe and wonder into that manger tonight. We stand in awe that there was born in Bethlehem, one named, Jesus, God saves. And he really has. We praise God that this little child is called Immanuel, God with us, and we know that he really is.
The most powerful words in this whole Christmas story are found right here. The true miracle of Christmas is expressed most clearly in these words, “you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” He will save his people from their sins. This promise echoes throughout the Gospels. We hear it lived out in as Jesus suffers undeserved torment for our sins. We hear it in the sound of iron nails being driven through his hands and feet. We hear the story of love shouted from the cross, “It is finished!” as he dies for our sins. We see the exclamation point on the story in the tomb that could not contain Jesus and his victory over death itself.
Yes indeed, God is with us. Yes indeed Christ came to save us. And he is coming back so that we will be with him forever. It is the story of God’s love for us. This is the Christmas story. A story that starts in brokenness and ends in joy, and promise, and hope. And thanks to this little baby in this common manger. This is our story too. Our story that starts in brokenness and ends in joy, and promise, and hope. In fact, a story, that because of God’s grace for us, is a story will not end.
What beautiful words:
“You shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins…
and they shall call his name Immanuel” (which means God with us)”
He has saved us.
He is with us.
Amen, and Merry Christmas
