SERMON FOR THE FOURTH SUNDAY OF ADVENT, DECEMBER 22, 2019     TEXT: MATTHEW 1:18-25
     Charles Dickens ends his story A Christmas Carol with this description of Ebenezer Scrooge:  “He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for, he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset; and knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in grins, as have the malady in less attractive forms.  His own heart laughed: and that was quite enough for him.”
     I read A Christmas Carol this week. Indeed, since Copper fell ill, and the sound of my voice soothes him and helps him sleep, I read a good portion of the story aloud to a Basset Hound and two cats who kept him company, treating them to my best posh Brit accent and a Cockney screech, as the dialogue required. This week I, of course, also read today’s Gospel from Matthew. It occurred to me that there was a striking similarity. Nothing happens on this globe for good at which some people do not have their fill of laughter in the outset. Here was another thing happening for good, the birth of Jesus, and the circumstances surrounding it were likely met with raised eyebrows, a fair amount of tittle tattle, and some laughter at Joseph’s expense. Marriage in his society was a two-stage affair. The betrothal involved entering into a legally binding contract. Then some time later, after the signing, the couple celebrated their union publicly and began living together under one roof. Mary and Joseph had completed the first step of the process but not yet the second. Still, they were considered married, and her pregnancy under the circumstances would be evidence of adultery. That is why Joseph is preparing to divorce her, but in such a way as to spare her public shame and potential punishment. Remember the story in John’s Gospel of the woman convicted of adultery. The crowd was getting ready to stone her until Jesus intervened. So Mary was in a very vulnerable position, and Joseph, who is righteous but not vengeful, chooses to treat her with consideration. 
     One could say that Luke tells us the story from Mary’s point of view and Matthew from Joseph’s. The fact that both evangelists found it necessary to make clear the distinctive circumstances of the Savior’s conception suggests that there was something they felt they had to account for. There must have been people who counted the months, did the math and concluded there was something off with the timing of this birth. Those who questioned his paternity were right to do so, but not for the reason they assumed. Joseph was knowingly accepting as his own a child he had not fathered, but it was nonetheless his child, because God entrusted Jesus and his mother Mary to Joseph’s care. Joseph embraces Jesus as rightly his and thereby places the child in the line of descent from King David. And so God’s promise, proclaimed by the prophet Jeremiah, is fulfilled: “The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land” (Jeremiah 23:5). Joseph heeds the Lord’s command. He trusts God and does the right thing. In this respect he and Mary are well matched.
     Emmanuel — God with us. Right from the start the coming Savior is immersed in the challenges of everyday life, the complications of personal relationships and social expectations. Marriage, divorce, pregnancy and parenthood. People trying to do the right thing when faced by a dilemma they could not have anticipated. And sinners though we all be, yet individually we can heed God’s call, take a risk for someone else’s benefit, give grace. Like Mary and Joseph who both acted in the best interests of this baby, despite the difficulties his coming caused them. Emmanuel, God with us — the name tells us who God is and who we are. God incarnate, the Word made flesh, who came among us and shaped a life full of grace and truth. Then, as Matthew tells us at the very end of his Gospel, he remains among us. Jesus tells his disciples, “Remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” He entrusts God’s work to them, to us. Go, he says, make disciples everywhere, teach others what you have learned from me, let them see your love for one another, help them experience my love for them. Now we too are Emmanuel, earthen vessels to be sure, as Paul puts it, but durable and fit for God’s purposes. In matters great and small, by our choices and our actions, day by day and year by year, we bring God deeper into the world God loves. Through us, the ones who laugh or worse, the ones Ebenezer Scrooge knew would be blind anyway, may yet see the Lord’s great light. “. . . it was always said of [Scrooge], that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge,” Dickens concludes. “May that be truly said of us, and all of us!” Amen.