Sermon for Christmas Day 2016

Preached at Grace Lutheran, York and Canadochly Lutheran on December 25, 2016
Scripture: Matthew 1:18-25, Luke 2:1-7

Pastor's Note: In keeping with a long-time personal tradition, I composed another "storytelling sermon" for Christmas Day this year. This time, I took on the role of Joseph.

What a long strange trip it’s been.

I’d thought I’d heard and seen it all. My name is Joseph. I hail from the village of Nazareth in Galilee. I’ve seen 35 or so summers, making me something of a venerable figure in our village. (Before you folks from future generations laugh, remember that many in my day and time are lucky to see 40. I am very much an old man for my time.)

Twenty years I’ve worked at my trade, learning from my father the art of carpentry. I’ve worked hard, made my meager fortune, and gained a reputation as a fair and honest businessman. The village respects and looks up to me. My reputation has spread to the neighboring villages. My work can be found in the homes of Capernaum and Bethsaida.

It doesn’t hurt that I can lay claim to being a descendant of King David through his son Solomon. Sadly, that lineage gave me none of their fabled wealth, but having a decent pedigree is always a good thing.

Why am I sharing all of this with you? Well, all of this, my reputation, my profession, my pedigree, all of it has been my evidence that I am a worthy suitor to the lovely Mary. Mary is the most beautiful girl in the village and, after all these many years, I feel it is time to end my bachelor life and start a family. She’s the one I want I start it with.

But to woo her, I must prove myself first to her family, to her father Joachim and her mother Anne. Hence the need for all this evidence that I will prove a good husband, that I will take good care of her. And in that endeavor I was successful. We were betrothed, pledged to wed.

Then I began to prove to Mary herself that I would be a good husband to her. Oh, I know. In my day and time such effort would be seen as frivolous or foolish. Who cares what women think, one might say. Well, I do. Perhaps that makes me strange for my day and time, but strange is the name of the game for this story.

I discovered that Mary was very devout, that faith and devotion to God were of utmost importance to her. Good thing that I too have been very dedicated to our synagogue and to the study of the Scriptures. This became our bond, allowing us to grow in love and affection for one another around a common interest.

News from the wider world interrupted our courtship. The Caesar had spoken. Parthian raiders had been giving the easternmost provinces of the Empire some trouble and Rome was now determined to punish them. Why the Caesar at his great age would want to prosecute another war is beyond me, but Rome’s thirst for blood never quite seems to be sated. Either way a tax was announced for all the Empire. I would soon have to depart to the ancestral home of my family line: Bethlehem in Judea.

It was around this time that things began to get a bit weird.

One afternoon, not long after the census was announced, I went to call on Mary at her parent’s home. I caught her in an unguarded moment and spying upon her from afar, I noticed the telltale bulge of her belly. She was with child. How could this be! The two of us had had no marital relations with one another and I did not know of any other man who had been in her company. A scandal! A betrayal! How could she do such a thing to me?

I retreated to my home to consider my options. I loved Mary even in the midst of her obvious betrayal. I decided to break off our betrothal, but announce that decision only to her and her parents. No doubt, they would find a relative to hide her until the growing evidence of her scandalous behavior went away. Perhaps her old cousin Elizabeth in Judea would serve.

I decided to sleep on my decision. As I slumbered, I received a vision from on high. God sent one of his angels to me in my dreams. The angel spoke. Mary’s child was not the product of a betrayal, but the blessed work of the Holy Spirit. The child would be the promised Messiah and that I was to name him Yeshua, “God will save us.” I awoke from this dream, astonished at the strange and wondrous times in which I was living. God had blessed me, me of all people, to be the father of his Messiah.

I hastened to Mary the next day. Let us be wed immediately, I boldly declared to her and her family. Let the village gauk all they want. God is at work in us and what matter the opinions of onlookers. Mary and her parents, who apparently had received visions of their own from God about the nature of this child, agreed. We were wed within the week.

Soon thereafter, Mary went off to visit Elizabeth, who I came to discover was also expecting a child in her great age. Another miracle. I was surrounded by them. Evidence that God was at work in our world. Yes, it was weird and strange. Virgins conceiving children. Elderly barren women doing the same. The impossible was happening all around me. And it was wondrous!

Some months passed while Mary stayed with Elizabeth. I then set out to perform my public duty, travelling first to fetch my wife and then on to Bethlehem. You know the rest of the story. The first night we were there, the city was so crowded there was only room for us in a barn with the animals. Mary had begun her labor pains as we settled down and later that night she gave birth to this miraculous child. More miracles would follow. Shepherds came calling, speaking of visions of angels heralding the birth of the child.

As dawn approached, I began to settle down after a very sleepless night. I offered up a prayer. Thank you, Lord, that I would be witness to such strange and yet wondrous moments. I have seen God at work in our world. I have seen that his promises, made long before I was born, are true and that he is faithful to them. I would wish the same upon you, my eager audience. May you witness the wondrous, even the impossible. May your eyes be opened to God at work in the world. For he is faithful to his promises. Jesus is proof of that. The Messiah has come and may that same Messiah be a blessing to you and yours.