Inconceivable!

The Sermon Study Guide is here.

Matthew 1:18-24

December 3/4, 2011 • Portage First UMC

Several years ago, a man named Walter invited his friend Arthur to go with him on a drive through Southern California. As they drove, Arthur noticed there wasn’t much to see. The area looked like a barren wasteland—a few trees, some ramshackle buildings, not much else. When they stopped, Walter began telling Arthur of his big plans for this land, and how he wanted Arthur to join him by becoming an investor in his dream. Walter had enough money for the main project, but he wanted to make sure the land around the area would be protected; he wanted a friend to own it. He was sure that in the next few years, restaurants and hotels would be begging to buy the land. In Walter’s mind, it was a sure bet, but when Arthur looked around, to his mind the whole plan was inconceivable, so he turned Walter down. Because he couldn’t see Walter’s dream, Art Linkletter lost the chance to buy the area that now surrounds Disneyland, Walt Disney’s dream-turned-reality (Jeremiah, Signs of Life, pg. 149). For one person, the dream drove him. For the other, it was inconceivable.

The power of a dream can change everything. I’ve been reading the biography of the co-founder of Apple Computer, Steve Jobs, which was published just shortly after his death, and two things have struck me, even though I’m not yet halfway through it. First of all: though I admire Jobs’ genius, I would not have wanted to invite him over for dinner. He wasn’t often a nice man to those he was close to. Second, he was a genius, and he could often see things no one else could see. He was talking about touch screen computers in the late 1970’s and early 1980’s, long before the technology existed or anyone else was thinking about it. The things that today have become the iPhone and the iPad, Jobs was envisioning thirty years ago, and he was able to push people to share his dream, to make things happen that everyone else said was inconceivable, impossible. The computer that became the Mac should have been created by Xerox; they had the idea first, but Jobs was the one with the vision, the one who pushed others to make it work—all because he dared to dream.

The power of a dream can change everything, so that what is inconceivable to many of us becomes reality because some people dare to dream. Today, in our journey through the Christmas story, we come to one who was a dreamer. Much like his Old Testament namesake, Joseph, as we encounter him in Matthew’s Gospel, hears from God most clearly in a dream, and because he listened as he dreamed, an inconceivable baby was born. This morning, our Advent journey brings us to the little town of Bethlehem and to a carpenter named Joseph.

Now, if you watch popular movies of the Nativity, you would tend to think that Joseph, like Mary, was from Nazareth, but I want to consider this morning the very real possibility that Bethlehem was actually Joseph’s hometown (Hamilton, The Journey, pg. 38). For one, when Bethlehem is mentioned first in Luke’s Gospel, it’s called Joseph’s “own town” (Luke 2:3), the same designation Matthew uses to describe Capernaum when Jesus is living there (it’s his “own town”) and Jesus himself uses that term to describe Nazareth as the place where he is from (his “own town”). Beyond that, we know from historical records that there was continual work going on in Jerusalem, particularly on the Temple which Herod was rebuilding. It wasn’t yet finished in Joseph’s time, and even if he didn’t work on that project, there would have been a lot more work for a person with his skills in and around Bethlehem and Jerusalem than there would have been around Nazareth. Now, some, then, wonder, if Joseph was from Bethlehem, why did Mary have to give birth in a barn? We’ll talk about that in a couple of weeks! But Joseph and Mary likely lived in a long-distance, arranged relationship. Last week, we talked a little about what their betrothal was like and we know, for instance, Mary doesn’t immediately tell Joseph about the pregnancy. Joseph “finds out” about it later (1:18). And on top of all that, when the baby is born, they don’t go back to Nazareth. They live in Bethlehem, in a house, Joseph’s house that he had prepared for his bride as was the custom. They live there for maybe as long as two years. They only go eventually to Nazareth, Mary’s hometown, to avoid danger from the political ruler (cf. Matthew 2:21-23). Bethlehem, then, makes sense as Joseph’s hometown.

[VIDEO: Bethlehem Cityscape] Now, today, Bethlehem is a thriving small city with a population of somewhere around 26,000 at last count—a little smaller than Portage. Much of its industry centers around the Church of the Nativity, the place where, tradition says, Jesus was born. It is a Palestinian city, [VIDEO: Bethlehem Walls] and today’s politics being what they are, it is a city surrounded by a wall. The wall is supposedly for protection, but largely it just makes life in Bethlehem difficult. Bethlehem is not that far from Jerusalem—six miles, a two-hour walk, but getting from Bethlehem to Jerusalem requires going through a checkpoint. So if you live one place and work in the other, just getting to work is a trial. In Joseph’s day, of course, the city was much smaller, maybe somewhere between 500 and 1,000 people. It was a blue-collar town, made up of shepherds, bakers (“Bethlehem” means “House of Bread”), millers and laborers like Joseph. It wasn’t world-famous, but it wasn’t unknown like Nazareth was. There were stories from the Hebrew Scriptures that centered around Bethlehem. Rachel, Jacob’s favorite wife, had died and was buried here. The Book of Ruth takes place in Bethlehem, and the greatest king Israel had ever known, King David, was from Bethlehem (Hamilton 39-40). It was known, but not terribly famous. So, again, like with Nazareth, God didn’t choose a world-class city. He chose an ordinary place and an ordinary man to help do his greatest work in the world.

Now, there’s a lot we don’t know about Joseph. He’s “the mystery man” of the Nativity story (Card, The Promise, pg. 20). He stands in the shadows (Card, Immanuel, pg. 42). Luke (2:41-52) tells us about Mary and Joseph taking Jesus to Jerusalem when he is twelve, and after that, we don’t hear any more from Joseph. Church tradition says he died sometime after that, and Mary was left a widow to raise her children. But in the Gospels, we simply don’t hear from him again. However, Joseph is described in a couple of ways. First, Matthew tells us (13:55) Joseph is a carpenter—the Greek work is tekton, which can mean builder, craftsman or stonemason. An arch-tekton was a master builder; you can hear the word “architect” in that, can’t you? But Joseph was just a tekton, a humble woodworker (Hamilton 41-42). We’re also told Joseph was a “just man;” the translation we read today says he was “faithful to the law” (1:19), and that’s part of it. To the best of his ability, Joseph wanted to do what God commanded him—and all of God’s people—to do. He wanted to be found faithful to God’s law. And yet, as this story progresses, we find he is willing to break the strict interpretation of the law in favor of compassion. We know he could have had Mary stoned because of her pregnancy, but instead, he decides to divorce her quietly, to end the betrothal formally, and let her live. He doesn’t want to have the shame of raising a child that isn’t his, but he doesn’t want to harm Mary, either. Being a “just man” includes being compassionate toward the weak and exhausted (Bailey, Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes, pgs. 43-44).

We also know Joseph was a dreamer—or at least God could best get his attention through a dream. Mary had a direct visitation from an angel. But, for whatever reason, an angel comes to Joseph in a dream now and after jesus is born (cf. Matthew 2:13). A dream can change everything. Joseph is working in Bethlehem, and, as we’ll talk about next week, at some point perhaps, he learns Mary is visiting her relative Elizabeth, who lived just four miles from Bethlehem. Perhaps he visits her there and learns she is pregnant. Matthew says Mary “was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit” (1:18). The word there doesn’t indicate any sort of gossip; it simply indicates she could no longer hide her pregnancy. It was obvious to everyone, include her betrothed, that something was going on (Carson, “Matthew,” Expositor’s Bible Commentary, Vol. 8, pg. 74). A baby was growing in Mary’s womb, and Joseph knew it wasn’t his. Matthew says that because he was faithful to the law, he had to decide what to do. In my mind, I picture him returning to Bethlehem, trying to figure it all out. Matthew says he “considered” what was happening (1:20), but that word not only contains the idea of pondering, of thinking deeply, it can also be translated as, “he became angry” (Bailey 45). Joseph, understandably, is very upset. He’s hurt. He feels betrayed. He’s probably astounded to think Mary is not the sort of woman he thought she was. And so he makes a purposeful decision. He won’t ask for the death penalty; he will divorce her quietly (1:19). He doesn’t want to make a big deal about it; he just wants to move on with his life. This baby Mary is having was not part of his plan.

It’s at this point, when Joseph has made up his mind, that God intervenes. I always wonder why God didn’t tell Joseph what was happening up front, like Mary was told. Why did Joseph have to find out the way he found out? I don’t know for sure, but I wonder if part of it is because Joseph was too busy, working, getting things done, hurrying to the next job—too busy to pay enough attention to an angel who might speak to him. Joseph very well could be a lot like us, and the only time he slowed down enough for God to speak to him was when he was sleeping. Any of us like that? It’s hard for us to stop and listen, even to those around us who are speaking. Especially this time of year, we hurry from here to there and rarely think deeply about what we are doing. Joseph had made up his mind, but there was one piece of information he didn’t have or he didn’t believe, and so in his dream, when he had no choice but to listen, an angel of the Lord came to him and told, “Do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit” (1:20). God is at work here, Joseph, fulfilling ancient promises (1:22-23), and if you rush to take control of the situation yourself, you just might miss what God is doing. Your dreams may be hard to see now, but God’s dreams for you are just beginning!

So perhaps the first thing Joseph teaches us is to slow down, to not rush around and miss the message of the season. The way we celebrate Christmas in America is to fill our calendars full of activities and events and parties to the point where, when we get to Christmas, we’re exhausted and have little energy left for celebrating Jesus’ birth. And I’m guilty of that. In the next twenty days, we have seven holiday activities, four concerts, three parties and a partridge in a pear tree—not to mention all the “normal” activities of our lives. Now, I’m not saying that to get sympathy. I’m confessing that I rush around and I act like this season is all about me. But it’s not. This is Jesus’ birthday. He’s the one we’re supposed to be celebrating. The Son of God has come to earth. He was born in a manger, and he grew up in humble surroundings and then he died to save us from our sins. That’s the message, and like Joseph, unless I learn to carve out time to slow down, I’m going to completely miss it again. How about you? Does Joseph’s life speak to you at all? Does God need to get your attention again this Advent season? What’s it going to take for us to center our focus on the baby of Bethlehem instead of ourselves as we celebrate his birthday?

The second thing I want us to notice about Joseph is that he, like Mary, doesn’t come from wealthy and significant surroundings. Joseph, as I said, is even less known than Mary, and he lived in a small and humble town. Everything he owned could, probably, fit in his toolbox, and while he was likely a craftsman who took great pride in his work, he wasn’t one who would have signed his work. He made good, strong, useful things and lived a humble life. And yet, every day, when he walked out of his home, he stood in the shadow of something that reminded him not everyone approached life that way. In an effort to be remembered, King Herod had built a huge monument just outside Bethlehem that he named in honor of himself: the Herodium. [VIDEO: Herodium] This is one of the places we’ll visit next year when we go to the Holy Land. It’s a huge man-made mountain that stretches four hundred feet in the air, fifty feet taller than the Great Pyramid of Giza. At the bottom there were villas for his friends, along with a huge pool—an extravagance in the desert. At the top was a palace for Herod—containing Roman baths, lavish bedrooms and a huge central hall. It was extravagant, and the whole structure overshadowed everything in Bethlehem. It was meant to remind the people who was in charge (Hamilton 52). Herod drew attention to himself, and his kingdom ended up in ruins. That’s all that’s left—ruins for sightseers to visit. Joseph, on the other hand, humbly carried out the mission God called him to do, and we still remember his selfless sacrifice. He served without expectation of reward, and his faithfulness is a model for us all to serve whether we get recognition or fame or reward. Can we serve others in that way? The one Joseph took as his son would later say that if we do our acts of righteousness in order to be seen by others and get their approval, that’s all the reward we will get. Instead, Jesus said, do it quietly, in secret, and know that God the Father knows and will reward us (cf. Matthew 6:1-4). Certainly Jesus had seen that in his earthly father, Joseph.

One more thing I want to note about Joseph’s story, and that’s how God will use our darkest times to do his mightiest work. When Joseph went to bed that night, even though Matthew says he had made up his mind, it couldn’t have been easy. All his hopes and dreams had been dashed to the ground. The woman he thought he would marry had, in his mind, been unfaithful. He was going to be divorced before he had even been married. Hope was inconceivable at this moment. This might very well have been the lowest moment in Joseph’s life, and yet in that moment, as Joseph would soon learn, God was at work doing something amazing. In the midst of his darkness, God was still moving, and would continue to do so. Matthew says rather easily that Joseph “took Mary home as his wife” (1:24), and yet that could not have been easy. He would endure the scorn, the ridicule, the stares, the gossip—just like Mary would. And yet, in the midst of Joseph’s darkest time, God is at work in a mighty way. To our minds, it’s often inconceivable that God would use our darkness, our struggles, our difficulties to make a difference in the world. We find it so inconceivable that we work and pray to avoid disappointing or difficult circumstances. Above all else, God, don’t let me hurt! And yet, what would have happened if Joseph had walked away from Mary? What if he had left her as a single mom to raise this child herself? He would have missed out on the great blessings God had in store for him. How much of God’s blessing do we miss when we try to skirt or avoid disappointment and difficulty? I know from my own experience, and I’ll bet you know from yours, that it’s very often in the darkest times of your life when God works the most (Hamilton 45-46).

Several years ago, I was in the midst of a rather difficult patch in my ministry, rough enough that I remember laying on the couch one night and actually reading the want ads to see if there was anything else I could possibly do. There were a lot of things that had happened, including receiving a note from a person in the church who told me exactly what my problems were and why God wasn’t speaking to me. Ironically, it was during that time when I felt closer to God than I had in a while, largely because there was, literally, nothing else I could do. I had to learn to depend on God because everything I did wasn’t working. Like Joseph, I would make up my mind to do this thing, and then, often as I slept, God would change my direction. He would remind me I needed to pray for that other person rather than lash out or act hastily. It was in that dark time that God did a lot of work in me, and also during that time when the church I was serving at the time experience a growth spurt. So I say that to warn us not to be afraid of difficult or disappointing circumstances—that might just be when God is preparing to do some amazing things. Joseph learned that, and we need to, maybe now more than ever.

Of course, it’s hard to get that perspective, especially during this time of year when everyone seems so happy, when we’re told we should be joyful. But what if your most difficult season is right now? What if you feel like, rather than walking in the light, you’re stumbling in the dark? What if it’s inconceivable to you that God might work in this patch of your life? One way we want to help with that is through our Longest Night Service, which will be held on December 21 at 7:00 p.m. The longest night of the year is the time when the church declares that, as the Gospel of John says, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). One of the reasons Christmas is this time of year (because December 25 is very unlikely the date Jesus was born) is because it is so dark and we use this season to proclaim Jesus as the light of the world, and the light of our lives. Our Longest Night Service is meant to do just that: to offer hope when we are hurting, to remind us that God is still inconceivably working even (maybe especially) in our darkness. So I encourage you to come, and bring someone with you who is also struggling this year. Come and be reminded that God is still working, bringing light to the darkness.

And be reminded this morning that it might just be your darkness God uses to minister to and encourage someone else. It’s very possible, even probable, that what you’re going through or what you’ve been through might be what God uses to touch someone else’s life. I’ve heard countless stories of people who have gone through abuse and seen how God, then, used them to help bring healing to someone else in a similar situation. Or someone who went through a divorce, or someone who was fired, or someone who finds themselves in a job they dislike—I could on and on, but the point is this: God never wastes anything. Your disappointment, your struggle is an avenue for touching the lives of others who need the hope only someone who has been there can offer. How can you help someone have a dream that seems inconceivable to everyone else? How can you help someone listen for God’s amazing movement in their lives, even when life is hard?

And, of course, even as we celebrate Christmas and the birth of Jesus, we remember that the ultimate example of God working in painful and difficult circumstances is what happens to this baby when he grows up. Jesus didn’t just come so we could exchange cards and gifts and eat a big meal to remember his birthday. Jesus came to show us that suffering can be redeemed. In some way we don’t always or often understand, suffering can bring healing. That’s part of what is going on when he gives his life on the cross. Christians believe Jesus suffers and dies and then is raised to life in order that salvation can come to you and me. When we share in the bread and in the cup of communion, when we do what we he told us to do, we are recognizing on some fundamental level that God was doing his most powerful work at just the point when it seemed as if the world had won, as if the world had killed the Savior. But we see it differently. On that cross, we see the hope of the world. Jesus died so we could live, and this bread and this cup reminds us of that truth. There is nothing you or I can go through that God can’t redeem, and he showed that most when Jesus was on the cross. So as we remember Joseph this day, we remember how God will often work in the midst of the darkest times. And in the midst of worst of those times, Jesus asks us to remember. It’s inconceivable to our minds, and yet it is in the darkest times when God shows up most powerfully. So let’s come to the table and remember, and celebrate, and give thanks that our God redeems absolutely everything.