Scripture can be found here...
So
many of us experience the season leading up to Christmas through music, and I
am no exception to that. Last night Joan and I indulged in our long-standing
tradition of enjoying the Burns Sisters’
holiday music by attending their concert at the Endicott Performing Arts
Center. That music means Christmas to us. We are steeped in memories of
Christmases past with a soundtrack of those songs that we love, baking, or wrapping
presents, or unwrapping them. I’ve been posting music online each day in
Advent… Advent music, Christmas music, carols, hymns, ancient, contemporary,
all kinds of things that seem to speak and sing to the season. And
lately—probably because I knew I’d be preaching on this very passage, this very
morning—I’ve been paying special attention to songs about Joseph. Joseph
doesn’t get as many songs as Mary or Jesus do. But they do exist. And today
there are three particular songs about Joseph that are swirling around in my
head.
You
have the lyrics to “The Cherry Tree Carol” in your bulletin. This is a late
medieval song, based on an early medieval text, the gospel of pseudo-Matthew. Music
and memory are so intertwined; I have a vivid memory where I was when I first
heard this song. It was 1982, and I was in a car on a snowy road in New
Hampshire, listening to a newly acquired cassette tape by a band called “Nowell
Sing We Clear.” This was, for me, one of those songs that stops you in your
tracks. Prior to hearing this song, I thought I knew all there was to know
about Jesus’ earthly father. But the Cherry Tree Carol persuaded me otherwise. It
introduced the thought that my ideas about Joseph had been pretty one-dimensional,
and that he was entirely capable of a greater range of motivations and emotions
than I’d given him credit for.
In
the carol, Mary and Joseph come upon a cherry orchard, and she asks him to
gather some cherries for her to eat. Joseph snarls, “Let the father of thy baby
gather cherries for thee.” That was the line that exploded my earlier notions
about Joseph, that introduced the idea that, maybe he was just a little angry
at the situation he found himself in. He was engaged to a young woman. She was
pregnant. He was not the father. Why had I never imagined this possibility
before? I am guessing that most of us probably have at least a little sympathy
for Joseph the man, the shadowy figure behind the gospel story. Who was he? How
did he cope? How did it all turn out?
As
to who Joseph was, the first seventeen verses of the real gospel of Matthew
provide us with “An account of the genealogy of Jesus
the Messiah,” which also happens to be a genealogy of Joseph. Given the
story we are reading today, that is both interesting and confusing. Is Joseph
Jesus’ father or not? Genealogies in scripture are very careful recitations of
pretty much everything you need to know about the person at the end of the line.
The story of the family tells the story of the man. So, this story includes
many of the giants of scripture: The patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The Kings
David and Solomon and Josiah. But this genealogy is fascinating, and unique,
because it also includes four women. And each of these women is very, very
interesting. Not one of them is a Jew. And every one of them has endured life
circumstances that would have been described as anything from tragic to
scandalous. We have giants of the faith and we have characters that raised
eyebrows. The story of the family tells the story of the men, Joseph and Jesus.
The
other thing we think we know about Joseph is that he was a carpenter, and he
may have been. But the Greek word we find in the gospel, tektonos, means artisan or builder. In recent years scholars have
suggested that Joseph was a stonemason. Nazareth is in a part of Palestine that
has few trees and little wood, but it is surrounded by an abundance of stone
and rock.
“Now
the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way,” the gospel tells us.
Mary and Joseph were engaged, but they were not yet living as husband and wife.
The second song I’ve been humming lately is “Christmas Song” by Dave
Matthews. Joseph has a brief mention, as Matthews simplifies the story.
She was his girl; he was her boyfriend
She’d be his wife; take him as her
husband
A surprise on the way, any day, any day
One healthy little giggling dribbling
baby boy…[i]
The
likelihood is that Mary was quite young, but Joseph may have been somewhat
older. (In case you are wondering, the Cherry Tree Carol’s suggestion that
Joseph was an old man is based on a medieval church tradition that Joseph and
Mary never lived fully as husband and wife.) During the engagement Mary “was
found” to be pregnant. I wonder, how did that happen? Did Mary know and tell
him? Did Mary start to show? Was there a baby bump? Did everyone figure it out?
This version of the story is different from the one in Luke’s gospel; Matthew doesn’t
tell us.
We
read that Joseph was “a righteous man.” Joseph’s way of righteousness involves quietly
separating from the woman he assumes has betrayed him.
The
third song rolling around in my head was written by Brandon Flowers and Elton
John. They put it all out there, all the possible roiling emotions.
Is the touchstone forcing you to hide,
Joseph?
Are the rumors eating you alive, Joseph?
When the holy night is upon you
Will you do what's right, the position is
yours…
Do you see both sides? Do they shove you
around?
Better you than me, Joseph
Better than you than me…[ii]
How
did he cope? Joseph doesn’t shame Mary, he doesn’t drag her to the town square
for what, according to the laws of Leviticus, could have been a death sentence.
He quietly ends the engagement. But the songs speak to the gaps in the story. Was
he brokenhearted, or did his heart turn to stone or ice? Was he furious? Are
the rumors eating you alive? Let the father of thy baby gather cherries for
thee. Better you than me, Joseph.
I
love the sheer messiness of this story, the story of the birth of the Messiah.
Classic Christian theology tells us that Jesus was like us in every way except
sin. That, apparently, includes a complicated, slightly scandalous family
history, including folks who were
Less than golden hearted
… all soul searchers
Like you and me…[iii]
All
these songs make specific what is strongly implied in the gospel story: there
was a crisis. Rumors were flying around, and an explanation was needed. And,
thanks be to God, the righteous man Joseph was a dreamer as well as a doer. He
was able to hear the words of the angel whispering in his ear while he slept:
“Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid
to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy
Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his
people from their sins.” ~ Matthew 1:20-21
Do
not be afraid. Usually when we hear those words in the mouth of an angel, she
is referring to her own terrifying splendor. But here, the angel says, do not
be afraid to marry this woman. Do not be afraid to adopt this child, for he is
meant to be your very own son.
And
this is another emotion that Joseph may have been feeling—and we don’t have to
go searching unusual Joseph songs to find it, it’s right here in the gospel
story. Fear. Joseph may have been afraid. We take blended families for granted.
All of us, it seems, come from them, or are forming them. But in the ancient
world, marry a woman who was pregnant with a child not your own was to
potentially subject yourself to a lifetime of ridicule or worse. Exclusion.
Ostracism. Never again being seen as what you are—a righteous man.
Do
not be afraid. Those are God’s words to Joseph, whispered to him in his dream
by the angel. The angel tells Joseph something else: to name the child, Jesus. This
is the adoption moment, the moment in which Joseph names the child. It is the
moment when the community will know:
whatever has happened, he is the true father. And “Jesus” is a name that
comes from Greek and Hebrew words meaning “salvation.” Rescue. Joseph, the angel
whispers. You might think you are rescuing Mary and the child. And maybe you
are. But the deeper truth of it is this: he will rescue you.
How
did it all turn out? The three songs end in very different places. “Better you
than me,” sing Brandon Flowers and Elton John, over and over again. At the end
of the Cherry Tree Carol, Mary is sitting on Joseph’s knee, and Joseph is
speaking to the baby in her womb—such a typical, tender thing, something
fathers have always done.
Saying, “Tell me, pretty baby, when your birthday shall
be.”
“On the sixth day of January my birthday shall be,
And the stars and the elements shall tremble with glee.”
We
know how the gospel story turns out. Joseph doesn’t—not yet. Whatever his
internal struggles, whatever his emotions, he was a righteous man. He is a
model for us. Here’s what righteousness looks like: He is not vindictive. He is
gentle and caring, even in the midst of confusion and hurt. Persuaded by the
angel of his dreams, he lets love guide his actions, and not fear. Wherever
Jesus came from—and we are told, he is from the Holy Spirit of God—Joseph
becomes his true father on this earth. He provides Jesus with a stable, blended
family, woven together by love and commitment, not very different from the kind
of family we see all around us, every day, not very different from the families
we will forge ourselves, or the families we come from.
At
the end of “Christmas Song,” Dave Matthews has Jesus singing words that could
have been from Joseph:
Father up above, why all this anger …
fill me up with love
Fill me with love love love…
I
think that’s a good place to end our exploration of Joseph. A late 20th
century prayer in song, suitable for every person, for every situation. A
prayer to help us find our own righteousness in the midst of confusion and
chaos. A prayer that we will never stop needing. Father up above, fill us with
love, love, love. Amen.
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