Sally A Brown, Professor Emerita, Princeton Theological Seminary
Today’s gospel text, Matthew 1:18-25, presents Matthew’s account of the birth of “Jesus the Messiah” (v 18). Matthew’s narrative contrasts strikingly with that of Luke, focusing not on Mary, but on Joseph. Joseph is typically portrayed in Nativity scenes simply standing by, mute and passive as the sheep; yet, Matthew reminds us that Joseph’s obedience to an angel’s message (v 24) was no less consequential than that of Mary. Sermons this week can (and should) celebrate Joseph as a model of courageous, Spirit-inspired discipleship, a highly relevant theme for Christians in our time.
Matthew gives us a glimpse into Joseph’s character when he reports that Joseph at first resolved to “put Mary away quietly,” sparing her public shame (or worse, punishment). Joseph is deterred by an angelic message in a dream, declaring that Mary’s pregnancy is through the “Holy Spirit.” This identifying title for the divine spirit occurs nowhere in the OT. Its occurrence here suggest that it is in use and well understood in oral traditions circulating in late-first century Christian communities.
The notion of divine/human conception would not, in itself, be new to Matthew’s readers. Jewish communities of the time would have been acquainted with such conception stories in Hellenic literature. Yet Matthew, as a faithful Jew, does not appeal to stories of Danae, Leda, or Europa to validate the angel’s message, but rather to Isaiah 7:14. There, a virgin conception and the birth of a child called “Emmanuel, God with us” points to God’s imminent intervention on behalf of captive Israel during the reign of Ahaz. For Matthew, the annunciation to Joseph in a dream echoes and “fulfills” that ancient prophecy: Joseph will claim Mary’s child in the act of naming him. He shall be called “Jesus” (Heb. Yeshua, “salvation”), because “he will save his people from their sins” (v 21).
This latter phrase is widely misconstrued, especially in North American settings that make “salvation from sin” an individualistic transaction between Jesus and a believer. Such a notion would have been foreign to Matthew and his community. They understood Jesus/Yeshua as the divine agent of Israel’s deliverance from its repeated failures to fulfill its God-given role as a “light to the nations” (Is 49:6), leading not only to the Babylonian captivity, but its present subservience to Rome. Subsequently, Paul and other early Christian leaders would discern that God’s saving act in Jesus has even broader consequences: Jesus brings renewal not to Israel alone, but to all peoples. Jesus calls together new communities of disciples whose life together embodies God’s inclusive love and restorative justice.
Joseph dares to place his faith in an astonishing divine message conveyed to him in a dream. Given the powerful honor/shame codes in place in ancient Near Eastern societies, protecting Mary and her God-given child may well have cost Joseph the respect of some (or many!) of his peers. We do not know the details, but it is quite likely that Joseph would have won considerable respect, or even celebrated as truly righteous, had he consigned Mary to shame and judgment. Instead, Joseph stands by her and names Jesus at his birth, thus taking parental responsibility for Mary’s child.
We speak of Mary, the central character in Luke’s account of Jesus’ conception and birth, as “the first disciple” of Jesus. Joseph, central to Matthew’s account, is arguably his second. To what out-of-the-ordinary acts of courage does God summon us, Jesus’ disciples, in our own time and place?