Emmanuel

Matthew 1:18-25

Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "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." All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:
"Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
   and they shall name him Emmanuel,"
which means, "God is with us." When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

I get an email five days a week from an organization called DelanceyPlace.com.  The email contains an excerpt of a nonfiction book:  some interesting nugget of information about history or business or some other aspect of life on this earth.  I’ve learned a lot, most of which, unfortunately, I’ve already forgotten.

Today’s reading from Matthew reminded me of an email I got from DelanceyPlace.com this past week excerpted from a book called Euphemania.  The excerpt was about euphemisms, those clever little phrases we all say to hide what we actually mean to say but can’t or won’t or don’t because of social strictures.  Did you ever hear the phrase “born on the wrong side of the blanket?”  Evidently, it was a euphemism popular in the late 18th century for...well, you can imagine what it was a euphemism for.  We all use euphemisms at one point or another to cover our meaning or avoid saying something directly.

Matthew’s writing this morning was heavy with euphemisms, at least part of it was.  Mary, he writes, was “found to be with child.”  In this instance we know exactly what Matthew is saying:  Mary was pregnant.  When we come to the words that Joseph planned to “dismiss her quietly” though, we’re not quite sure what Matthew meant.  Did it mean that he was going to send Mary away from her home and family to avoid the disgrace of being pregnant without being married?  Or did it mean that he would save her the horror of being stoned to death but still have her killed quietly?  We don’t know because that euphemism is lost to us now.

The words in Joseph’s dream are direct and to the point though.  They tell Joseph exactly what to do without any euphemisms or wavering in their meaning.  This clear message comes to Joseph via an angel.  Even though the angel is unnamed, I like to think it’s Gabriel again, the same angel who brought the news to Mary that she was going to bear Jesus.  That would make a nice symmetry: Gabriel, your all-purpose nativity angel.

What’s interesting about Matthew’s account of the birth narratives is that, unlike Luke’s account, this is told from Joseph’s perspective.  And this is the last we see of Joseph in the scriptures.  He disappears after this without a trace and is not mentioned again.  But Matthew, eager to settle in his Jewish readers minds that Jesus is a legitimate heir of David, gives us the genealogy from Joseph’s side and then tells the story of Jesus’ birth from Joseph’s viewpoint. 

God, through the angel, had to intervene to prevent Joseph from dismissing Mary quietly.   Without Mary, of course there would have been no birth.  But without Joseph, according to Matthew, there would have been no legitimacy to David’s throne.

Matthew is quick to quote Isaiah’s passage, the very one that we heard this morning in our Hebrew Bible reading.  In its original context, that reading was assuring a Judean king, Ahaz, that his line would continue with the birth of a son.  But Matthew uses that scripture in the context of Jesus’ birth, again adding in legitimacy to a Jewish readership that would know the original scripture well.   Matthew, from the very beginning is working to prove that Jesus is the Jewish Messiah who has come to save the world from itself.

Of course, the Jewish folks of the first century, who would be reading Matthew’s gospel and were Matthew’s intended audience, were looking for a political Messiah, who would free Israel.  But by the time Matthew wrote his gospel, there was already a split between Jews and Christian Jews, such that the Christians were no longer allowed in the synagogue.  So they were ready to accept a spiritual Messiah, one who came and conquered not Rome but death and sin.

The angel, back to our reading this morning, spoke directly to Joseph:  don’t be afraid; Mary’s baby is from the Holy Spirit; name the baby Jesus; Jesus will save the people from their sins.  That’s the summation of the angel’s message and Joseph took it to heart.  The name “Jesus” by the way is the Greek form of the Hebrew name “Joshua” which means “God saves.”  Thus the addition of the fact that Jesus will save the people from their sins in the angelic proclamation makes sense with the name, Jesus.

And that’s how we like our communications from God, isn’t it?  Direct and to the point without any room for equivocation.  Except when we’re looking for another answer than the one we got; then we want wiggle room, of course.  But when God sends an angel to deliver the message, you know that you’re going to get it direct and true.

Matthew was making a point here by focussing on Joseph.  If you think back through the Hebrew Bible, there was another famous Joseph, one who was known for his dreams, who traveled to Egypt and was known to be righteous, just as we were told Joseph is righteous.  Matthew’s Jewish readers and hearers would certainly make that connection between the more recent Joseph and his ancestor in the faith.  Again, a link to Jesus’ Jewish past is established through Joseph.

Matthew, in quoting Isaiah, gives Jesus a second name:  Emmanuel.  Emmanuel is a Hebrew name which does in fact mean “God with us.”  And that’s what the nativity stories are all about, aren’t they:  God entering into humanity as God has never done before.  God being with us in new and exciting ways. 

In fact, the whole of Matthew’s gospel is working to show that God was with us in the person of Jesus Christ.  In fact, if you jump ahead twenty-eight chapters to the closing verses of the book of Matthew, you’ll find “God with us” there again if you look closely enough.  For there at the very end of his Gospel, Matthew tells us of Jesus’ promise to be with us to the end of the age.  Emmanuel.  God with us.  Always.

This birth narrative from Matthew sets his readers and us up for the continuing story of God’s presence among us both now and for all time.  Jesus came, we are told from the very start, to save the people, not from Rome or from any other earthly power but from their own sins.  And, as we journey through Matthew this coming year, we’ll hear how God remains with us and will remain with us forever.

[Painting is The Vision of St. Joseph, by James Tissot.]

Blossoms in the Desert

Isaiah 35:1-10

Using a favorite phrase of my friend Nancy, we have heard from a veritable plethora of prophets this morning.  There’s John the Baptist wondering if his prophecies about Jesus are true.  We hear Mary singing that the world is going to be a better place because of the son she is carrying and if that’s not prophecy, I don’t know what is.  And then we have Isaiah bringing hope to a captive people.  With so many prophets at hand, how is a preacher supposed to choose?  How do we focus our attention with so many working to grab that very attention we seek to focus?

Well, being a visual person, I went with the prophet who used visuals in his message and that of course is Isaiah.  Right there in the first sentence, Isaiah had me: “the desert shall rejoice and blossom.”  It didn’t take long for my imagination to get rolling.  In fact, my imagination didn’t have to come into play; I had my own memories to draw on.

During my time in Australia, I ventured forth into the great center of that continent, to the huge red desert that makes up a large majority of the land mass.  I went in winter, which meant that the temperatures were bearable.  But it also meant that in some of the places there had been some rain, an extremely rare occurrence, which I didn’t experience myself but which had preceded me.

Thus I got to see the desert in bloom, which I was told only happens once every six or seven years.  I counted myself lucky to see this rare event and it is permanently etched in my memory.

That’s what prophets do; they jog your imagination and stir up your memory and by bringing up the past show off the potential of the future.  Isaiah does that in spades in this verse and it’s needed in this instance.

This portion of Isaiah was written after the great exile of the people from Jerusalem to Babylon.  In fact, a generation or so had passed since that terrible event when the Babylonians had swept in, destroyed the holy city Jerusalem, and taken many of the city’s inhabitants as captives, transporting them to Babylon.

This prophet, whom we call Second Isaiah, came along and wanted to keep up the Jewish people’s interest in their land.  Second Isaiah was a cheerleader of sorts for the old country.  Memories were fading and Isaiah found it his job to remind the people what they had left behind.  Some of the folks were getting too comfortable in Babylon: some were attaining positions of importance and marriages were occurring between the Jewish people and the Babylonians.  Isaiah worked to remind them of the place they had left, which had long ago been promised to them.

Isaiah was stirring the people’s memories and inciting their imaginations so that they could envision a future in which they returned to their land.  Between them and their home though lay a vast desert.  A way had to be made there so that the return would be not only safe but also pleasant.  So no wild animals will attack and yes, there will be blossoms to make the way agreeable.

Isaiah knew his audience.  That vast desert between the exiles and home had to be made  traversable.  And it was God who was going to do just that; God would make the way back to Jerusalem available to all who wanted to return.  Not only that, the lame wouldn’t just be able to walk, they’d be leaping.  The speechless wouldn’t just talk: they’d be singing out in joy.  All manner of miracles will take place when God gets involved.  And God is definitely getting involved here.  After the hardship of exile, God is ready to renew God’s relationship with the people of Judah.  Isaiah was talking about restoration.  Justice. Healing.  Joy.  Words that seem impossible to a people in exile.  Are they impossible for us to hear though?

It is the sort of the thing we need to hear this Advent, isn’t it?  Though we aren’t in exile, it feels like we might be in some sort of spiritual exile, doesn’t it?  For instance, across the globe there are many who need a simple thing like water in order to survive, but who won’t get it.  Our war in Afghanistan goes on without any resolution or completion in sight.  The economy remains stubbornly lackluster leaving many un- or underemployed.  And here in our dear community of Chalice, we are facing 2011 with many questions about our future and how we shall remake ourselves.  If ever we needed God’s involvement and attention, as a church, as a nation, as a world, it is now. 

God doesn’t create lush gardens in the desert however for people who don’t want to return.  God doesn’t give sight to the blind who don’t want to see.  That’s why the prophet, Isaiah, needed to get the Jewish people into a state where they wanted to return.  Because if they were going to want to remain an exilic people, God wasn’t going to do those miraculous events for nothing.

Enough of us have to want to return home, to leave exile.  Enough of us have to want to walk again or see again or speak again.  Enough of us have to believe the prophecy that we will be able to go home again, believe it enough to pack our bags and have them waiting at the door, waiting for the desert to bloom and for God’s way to be made through the wilderness.

Yes, our veritable plethora of prophets, headed by Isaiah, all are saying about the same thing: this can be a different world but you need to allow God in and not rely only on yourselves.  Then, when we’ve let God into our lives and allow God to act as God alone can act, will the miraculous happen.  The desert blooming, for instance.