November 2010

The cast of characters associated with the story of Jesus’ birth is colorful and memorable. We recognize them by their unique speaking parts. With dramatic lines, the Angels take center stage to announce the birth of the Savior. They appear to Joseph to announce that the name of the child would be Jesus. The arch angel Gabriel makes the unforgettable announcement to Mary. An angelic choir interrupts the shepherds singing, Glory to God in the highest.

The Virgin Mary, whose Divine selection humbles her, offers her beautiful hymn and thanksgiving in Luke 1:46-48: My soul magnifies the Lord, And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior. For He has regarded the lowly state of His maidservant; for behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed.

The wise men are desperate in their search to find the newborn king and prepared to divest themselves of treasures to present Him with gifts of worship in Matthew 2:2, “Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we have seen His star in the East and have come to worship Him.”

The shepherds became early evangelists! In Luke 2:17, the shepherds hasten to find the baby Jesus after the announcement of the angelic choir. Upon finding Jesus, Luke says, Now when they had seen Him, they made widely known the saying which was told them concerning this Child (v. 17).

Oddly enough, one key figure in the birth of Jesus has no recorded words in the narrative. He is the lone silent member of the cast and often forgotten. Angels bring heavenly greetings. Mary sings a praiseful solo. Wise men worship. Shepherds preach. Joseph is silent. No notable lines are attributed to him. No sound bites. No quotes, only silence.

However, while Joseph is the forgotten figure of Christmas, he is irreplaceable in the story of Jesus’ birth. He says nothing, but he has, perhaps, the strongest of impacts through character and faith. His importance cannot be overstated. Through Joseph, God protected the unborn life of Jesus and preserved human life for the Savior.

We are introduced to Joseph in the middle of an unwelcome nightmare. Having become engaged to a beautiful young girl in the Jewish tradition, he has worked hard to establish an income to support his new bride and begin a family. He is in love. He is committed to Mary. He believed she loved him, until the news that his precious bride is pregnant.

Heart-broken and betrayed, how should he respond? Should he publicly shame her and serve her with a certificate of divorce? Should he surrender her to a public stoning? Her explanation of the pregnancy was unbelievable, even profane, and did nothing to ease Joseph’s emotional pain.

If Mary would not have been stoned on the charge of adultery, she could have been stoned on the charge of serious blasphemy (“I bear the child of the Living God.”) However, Joseph chooses the path of mercy. Then Joseph her husband, being a just man, and not wanting to make her a public example, was minded to put her away secretly. (verse 19).

It is response born of solid character. Before any divine explanation, Joseph chooses mercy. No malice. No explosion. Certainly words would have been appropriate here. How could you do this to me? Who’s the father? Tell me his name! But, no words are recorded, only tenderness. He might be sullied in the conversations around Nazareth. Friends might distance themselves with snide comments, but he would not hurt Mary, no matter what he thought she had done to him. That’s a just man! That’s a merciful man. When he could have demanded a bitter justice, he chose a tender mercy.

The mystery of Jesus birth, that He sunk Himself into our flesh and became like us, is beyond all human understanding. The mighty God takes on the weakness of a newborn. But is the tender mercy of Joseph, which preserves the life of Mary and protects the unborn Christ.Though someone might deserve the sentence of justice, never act without the influence of a tender mercy, which extends patience, grace, encouragement, and prayer.

How fitting that this merciful carpenter would be the father to help shape and raise a merciful Savior.

Forgotten with no speaking role in our narrative of the Nativity, Joseph may be last in the credit roll at the end of the story, but without his character and obedience to God’s revelation, the story of Jesus might have had never been fulfilled. That’s a lot to put on the shoulder’s of a carpenter from Nazareth, but God forwards His purposes in history on the faith, trust, and humility of those, who obey His voice.

Psalm 126 falls 7^th in a series of 15 songs of pilgrimage, known as the songs of ascent. In particular, this song of praise also follows the return of the Jews from Babylonian and Persian captivity. For 70 years, they remained prisoners of war in a foreign land until God changed the heart of the Persian King Cyrus. After the fall of Babylon, he restored them to their great city. Jewish worshipers would begin their difficult climb up to the Holy City and progressively toward temple until they actually reached its courts and completed their worship. Their prayers and toilsome journeys become models for our own struggles through life’s grueling, trying moments.

Let’s face it. Sometimes the struggles of the present take their toll on us. Our inner flame of personal spiritual passion grows dim in the present. We’re asking, When will this be over? This struggle? This grieving? This sadness? This ordeal? This season? This passage of life?

I can imagine the Jewish traveler, who penned this song of ascent, as he takes one step after another up the mountain to Jerusalem. He’s tired and winded. The present for him is struggle and worship and prayer and labored breathing. He takes a break and finds a boulder to rest himself. He opens a leather canteen and takes sips of water. His quadriceps are burning and his calves begin to cramp, but his soul begins to remember…

When… …the Lord brought back the captive ones of Zion…

Rested and having gathered his breath, he recalls the return of the Jewish exiles. Those released exiles braved a journey across the same arid, rocky terrain and climbed the very face of this mountain up to the Holy City. Only a few weeks before, they had been held captive to Babylon, awaiting their release and, perhaps, thinking the day would never come. What seemed like a dream became the reality of joy and grateful worship.And, as the Psalmist reflects, It was the Lord, who returned exiled Jews to this place. It may have been the deeds and decrees of a benevolent and good king, but the King of Kings has brought us back to this place.

That kind of reflection doesn’t get into our hearts unless we take time to let God’s Word speak to us about both how He HAS acted and how He WILL act on behalf of His people. He delivers. He sets free. He changes situations of lingering hopelessness into a reality so blessed it seems like a dream.

And our only response is to worship with joy, to linger before the Holy One with praise and affection and songs of victorious gladness: Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with joyful shouting…

G. K. Chesterton wrote:

“The worst moment for the atheist is when he is really thankful and has nobody to thank. It is the highest and holiest of the paradoxes that the man who really knows he cannot pay his debt will be forever paying it… …He will be always throwing things away into a bottomless pit of unfathomable thanks.”

Recall the past and give thanks what God has done. Gratefulness can inform our faith as it works through struggles today. Don’t quit climbing. Don’t quit believing. Only a proper view of the past will help us look rightly at the future.

The Psalmist moves his attention forward to what can lie ahead by rightly recalling the past. He remembers the future. Turning his head back to the desert, which he had just crossed, a thought enters his mind; a daring and courageous prayer: Bring back our captivity, O Lord, As the streams in the South. Think about the Negev desert; a place of immense, desperate thirst. That arid region to the south of Beersheba is utterly dry in the summer, but in the summer months, its streams quickly fill and flood with the rains of spring. The pilgrim calls to mind what has happened in the past and turns his focus to the future with expectation.

Lord, restore our nation’s fortunes at their best. Do for others what You have done for us. Re-gather to our nation all that belong to it. Let it come alive with reunion and reconciliation. Multiply our joy with other captives set free. God, in parched places where we thirst, come and satisfy our desperate longing for others to know Your freedom and saving. As we have received the Presence of the Holy Spirit, we long and pray for others to also be filled.

And it is our confidence from knowing both how God has acted and what He will do that strengthens our expectation.

Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy. He who continually goes forth weeping, Bearing seed for sowing, Shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, Bringing his sheaves with him. (vv. 5-6)

The struggle of our labor to seek God now, to intercede now on behalf of others, will yield the joy and gladness of reward. We always see the future from the present. Our perspective cannot clearly see how, when, and, sometimes, even who. It is Jesus, our Immanuel, who remains faithful, true, and powerful to break open the shackles and lead us in freedom.

Let our hope in God fuel an enduring expectation. The present means sowing. The future means reaping. The present means praying. The present means tears, desiring, hungering, thirsting, wanting, waiting. The future brings rewarding, satisfying, fulfilling. The present means giving and sacrificing. The future means fullness and provision. Let faith transcend those struggles of the present to remain grateful for what God has done and expectant of what He will do to bring glory to His Name through and satisfy our earnest praying.

Month: November 2010

The Silent Impact of Joseph’s Strength

A Transcendent, Grateful Faith