Advent IV - A

December 22 , 2019

St. Matthew 1:18-25 - NRSV

The Birth of Jesus the Messiah

18 Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah[a] 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. 19 Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. 20 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. 21 She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” 22 All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

23 “Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
    and they shall name him Emmanuel,”

which means, “God is with us.” 24 When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, 25 but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son;[b] and he named him Jesus.

Footnotes:

Matthew 1:18 Or Jesus Christ

Matthew 1:25 Other ancient authorities read her firstborn son

Sermonette for Advent IV

Christmas Correspondence

A Midrash on St. Matthew 1:18-25

If only this ache, this pain would go away.

Dear Joseph, I don’t know what to say.

I’ve done no wrong, I’ve not been unfaithful

But something mysterious, something fateful…

It happened in a dream.

As a child I knew that as

a race we were different

but I was special, too!

Somehow, some way

--a deep hope was planted

inside –hope, pure hope

--the seed was planted

and has come alive.

It happened in a dream,

I remember so well

a messenger of Yahweh

had this to tell:

“You’ll conceive your dream,

You’ll give birth to hope—

Fear not, God is with you.”

The shadow of doubt

fell across the floor

and I wanted, oh, how

I wanted to hear more.

And then the same dream

would haunt me again and again:

“Fear not, I AM with you!”

Something was growing within.

I wondered, I pondered,

I held my breath in awe.

Could one’s hope for Messiah

bring justice for all?

Could dreams make one pregnant

--dreams deep in the night?

Could trust be so vivid

to conceive a new life?

Haunted, harried, disgraced by this grace!

Could something inside me change the whole human race?

Then deep from within a voice whispered so clear:

“The way we are, the way we conceive

can be changed forever by those who believe.”

So Joseph, please ponder

before you put me in my place.

Pray and discern and listen for a Word.

For God is disturbingly present in this,

stirring us up to be part of the mix.

So dream, dear Joseph –dreams are truth.

                        Good night, my love!

                       

                        Your tender Mary.

[Letter received and Joseph responds:]

Mary,

It is time now to end this affair!

But like you, I too, hope for a Messiah who will care for our race,

but not only ours, but for others oppressed, downcast, who get not rest!

I long for the exalted to be brought low,

I long for justice and the overthrow:

--the tumbling of barriers,

--the time of Shalom,

--the Prince of Peace

            to bring us home.

Mary,

by the sweat of this carpenter’s hands,

I swear on the Torah:  I love you so!

But I have no choice but to let you go

The Law says so!

I’ve spent days and nights with little rest.

I’ve wondered just what sort of trial –test—we’re going through.

And then a dream broke through:  “Fear not, I AM with you!”

The dream, the Word, the ancient voice, Abraham heard it

in the moist and fertile soil of Ur and he left, he did the absurd.

The absurd Word now calls you,

calls me to follow, to journey, that’s our heritage.

With wandering Arameans as father and mother,

we’ve got no choice, but to travel together.

Your are right, dear Mary,

your words ring true:

“The way we are, the way we conceive,

can be changed forever by those who believe.”

So let us journey not knowing why.

Cast our fate up to the sky.

So let this be our humble cry:

Bethlehem, Oh, House of Bread,

feed us with manna for the journey ahead!

                                    Mary, dear Mary,

                                    you’ve changed my life.

                                    What next is coming

                                    from you, my wife!

                                                Your Joseph

                                               

Copyright @2019 A Poem a Sunday

May be used with permission.

kennstorck@gmail.com