December 15, 2024
Here we are ten days from Christmas. We’ve lit the candles of hope, peace and joy and listened to Matthew’s account of Jesus’ birth—but for a few moments I want to call out attention away from Christmas and back to a very different day: 9-11. That may seem a strange choice, but I think this particular story will illuminate our Gospel reading by giving us some insight into Joseph’s character.
On that fateful morning 23 years ago, after a hijacked plane had been intentionally flown into the World Trade Center’s second tower, a group of panicked people found themselves stuck on the sky lobby on the tower’s 78th floor. They seemed to be cut off from any possibility of escape; the impact below them had left the stairwells impassible. They weren’t really sure what had happened and had no idea what to do. But they all knew their lives were in grave danger.
Then, unexpectedly, a man emerged from the smoke. He wore a red bandana over his nose and mouth so that he could breathe more easily. He announced that he had found a way out: a stairwell that was passable. He instructed the group to follow him. His voice was calm, but had an authoritative tone that inspired trust. So, the group followed him as he led them down 78 floors to safety.
After getting that group to the ground floor, he turned around and went back up the stairs, into the fire and smoke to find other trapped, scared people. And when he found another group, he led them down too. Then he turned around and went back up. He completed three trips on that horrible day, saving three groups of people, but he himself perished when the second tower finally collapsed.
None of those he rescued knew the man’s name. They hadn’t even seen his face. They simply knew him as the man in the red bandana. Yet they knew that they owed their lives to that courageous, mysterious man. In the coming weeks, many of them told their family and friends how he had rescued them.
Eventually, after a few months, the New York Times ran a story about the man in the red bandana. Alison Crowther read the story. Her son Welles, who was an equities trader working in Tower 2, had died on 9/11. As she read the story in the Times, she realized she was reading about her son. When he was a boy, he began carrying a red bandana with him every day; it was a habit he continued as an adult. Not only that, Alison knew that the actions of the man in the red bandana were consistent with the character of her son. Welles was a caring young man, one who was always ready to help others. He was trained as a volunteer firefighter. In college, he had been in the Fellowship of Christian Athletes. Through the FCA he had volunteered with underprivileged children in the Boston area. There could be no doubt that “the man in the red bandana” was her son, Welles Crowther. Drawing the connection between his sacrifice and his character, Alison Crowther said, “He could have left, but because of who he was, he chose to stay, and we honor that decision…” [story related by Susan Robb in The Angels of Christmas: Hearing God’s Voice in Advent, 72-73]
Judy Wein, who was led to safety by Welles, also pointed to his character, remarking, “People can live 100 years and not have the compassion, the wherewithal to do what he did.” [9/11 Memorial Staff, “Remembering the ‘Man in the Red Bandana,’” https://www.911memorial.org/connect/blog/remembering-man-red-bandana]
Because of who he was, because he was compassionate, Welles Crowther, chose to stay and help as many people as he could. If I may be so bold, I would suggest that God had been shaping Welles, through the various experiences of his young life, so that, when he was confronted with a moment of great need—a moment that called for mercy, for compassion, for self-giving love—Welles reacted righteously. That is to say, in that moment he reacted with mercy, thereby embodying God’s own character and will.
This, I think, is precisely what we see in Matthew’s story of how Joseph responded to the most devastating news he had likely ever received. Matthew tells us that Mary and Joseph were engaged, but had not yet lived together. This means that the events of our scripture take place in the year between the couple’s betrothal and marriage. During this time, the two had no sexual relations while the woman continued to live with her family. Nonetheless, they were referred to as “husband” and “wife.” Though the wedding had not yet occurred, any unfaithfulness on the part of either party was deemed as adultery. So, when Joseph finds out Mary is pregnant—and further knows that he is not the father—there are only two possibilities: either she has been unfaithful or she has been raped. Either way, her pregnancy, coming before the wedding, is a scandal that would bring dishonor on both families and the husband-to-be and render the woman an unmarriable pariah. Joseph must have been deeply hurt and confused. He likely felt a stinging sense of betrayal.
Divorce was the proper, expected course of action in such cases. A public inquiry—to determine the woman’s culpability in the conception—was a possibility (see Duet 22.23-27). Deuteronomy even suggests a woman could be put to death for infidelity, though this provision appears to have been rarely, if ever, enforced during the time of Roman rule in Palestine. [Adam Hamilton, Faithful: Christmas through the Eyes of Joseph, 51] Joseph, we are told, is a righteous man. He is one who upholds the customs of his people and one who seeks to live in accordance with the Law given to his ancestors by God. Thomas Long suggests that Joseph was likely scrupulous about seeking to keep all the provisions of the Law as a way of “trying to live his life in harmony with the will of God.” [Long, Luke, Westminster Bible Companion, 12] So, Joseph really has no choice but to end his betrothal to Mary. But, how shall he do it?
Joseph chooses to quietly issue a bill of divorce so as not “to expose [Mary] to public disgrace.” Joseph is clearly of a compassionate character: in the midst of his own wrenching pain, he still thinks of Mary and chooses to show her mercy by taking the least harsh course of action. A man could break off an engagement for a variety of reasons. Perhaps Joseph intended to do so without making any mention of actual reason so that Mary would be spared the shame of the illicit pregnancy (though one wonders how it could be kept from public knowledge as the pregnancy progressed and Mary began to show the tell-tale signs; perhaps she would have been sent away to the distant home of relatives?). Whatever the specifics of his plan may have been, Joseph, in spite his own hurt and anger, eschews vengeance and instead seeks to find the course of action which will bring the least harm to the one who, he thinks, has wronged him.
Though it must have been a difficult decision, Joseph’s righteousness and his compassion are not at odds. Indeed, compassion and mercy are held up in scripture as essential expressions of righteousness. Susan Robb, writing about this scripture, points out that righteousness involves following not just the letter of the law, but, more importantly, acting in a manner consistent with the spirit of the law. She contends, “The essential spirit of the law is exemplified by the word of the prophet Hosea, who declares for God, ‘I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice.’” [Hos 6.6] Sacrifice here refers not to giving something up for the good of a cause or another person, but to the practice of animal sacrifice—giving a burnt offering to God as a sign of devotion, thanksgiving or repentance; sacrifice is thus shorthand for all religious rituals, practices and rules. God is not rejecting ritual, but instead saying that without steadfast love—a love that must be embodied in deeds of compassion and works of justice—religious practices are empty. To underscore this point, Robb observes, “In Greek, the language of the New Testament, the Hebrew word for ‘steadfast love’ [hesed] translates as ‘mercy.’ But they are two sides of a single coin. Mercy is a dimension of love, a way that love manifests itself toward others….God, whose nature is mercy, wants people to act mercifully. If the heart of the Law is love, then showing mercy is even more important to the fulfillment of the Law than enforcing punishments for breaking the rules.” [Robb, 58] Indeed, Joseph’s adopted son Jesus will twice quote Hosea, telling his hearers that God “desires mercy not sacrifice.” [Matt 9.13 & 12.7]
Joseph, then, is righteous not primarily because he strives to keep the letter of the Law, though he does, but because he seeks to keep the spirit of the law. [see 2 Corinthians 3.6] He knows that “mercy triumphs over judgement” [James 2.13] and that we show ourselves to be most like God when we show mercy. [paraphrasing Portia’s speech from Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice, Act IV, Scene I] Mercy and compassion are essential to Joseph’s character. In this respect, I think he was much like Welles Crowther. Over many years of practicing his Jewish faith, God had shaped Joseph so that he understood and sought to keep the spirit of the law: hesed—the steadfast love that expresses itself in a disposition of compassion and in deeds of mercy.
I suspect that this is why Joseph responded as he did to the strange dream he had, why he believed and obeyed what the angel told him. You see, through the angel, God is calling Joseph to a higher, more radical act of mercy. God is calling him to go completely beyond his understanding of the letter of the Law in order to keep the spirit. The angel tells Joseph that he should not be anxious and afraid, for the same Holy Spirit who moved over the waters at Creation [Gen 1.2] has created the new life that is forming in the water of Mary’s womb. Therefore, Joseph should not divorce her, but instead marry her and name the child Jesus. And in naming him, Joseph will effectively adopt him as his own son and a descendent of David.
In our Advent Study, Erin Wathen observes how great a challenge following the angels words presents: “What the angel suggests is no small thing. The messenger essentially tells Joseph to put aside everything he knows—about culture and custom, about love and fidelity, about family and gender roles and power.” It’s an imposing and scary ask. [Erin Wathen, Calling All Angels: An Advent Study of Fearlessness & Strength, 63] But I would suggest there is one thing Joseph isn’t asked to put aside, one thing which will guide his actions—hesed, steadfast love. Indeed, the angel is essentially asking Joseph to take up, in a more radical way than he probably ever imagined he would or could, mercy and compassion.
And he does! This is perhaps another miracle of the Christmas story. Bolstered perhaps by the angel’s exhortation to not be afraid and by the reminder of the promise of Emmanuel, Joseph awakes from his dream and we are told he does exactly what the angel of the Lord had commanded him to do. In his courageous obedience, Joseph shows radical mercy to his wife, who is pregnant out of wedlock and facing a future as an outcast in her own community, one who would have been unmarriable and a source of disgrace to her family. And he shows mercy to the child she has conceived, who would have otherwise borne the stigma of being illegitimate and likely would have grown up without a loving father. In doing so, Joseph teaches us that, as Christine Chakoian says, “real righteousness urges us to see every person as a child of God—and to welcome them into our hearts and our homes.” [Chakoian, “In the Lectionary: December 18, Fourth Sunday of Advent, Matthew 1.18-25,” The Christian Century, December 2022, Vol. 139, No. 20]
Heidi Neumark, pastor of Trinity Lutheran in Manhattan, tells of an incident that illustrates the contrast between following the letter of the law and the spirit of the law. While visiting family, she received a call from a volunteer at the church’s homeless shelter. The shelter is for homeless youth. Most are LGBTQ, many are transgender, and almost to a person they have been kicked out of their homes by their own families.
Several years back, I read that most of the homeless youth in our cities fit this description—they are LGBTQ—and most have been kicked out by their Christian parents. No doubt, these parents understand themselves to be acting righteously by following the letter of God’s law (I strongly disagree). But are they following the spirit of the law, which is to act with a mercy born of love for others? When they cast their own children out, exposing them to the perils of homelessness and the threat of traffickers and sexual predators, are they following the example of Joseph, who welcomed Jesus into his life and protected him from the murderous rage of Herod? I cannot see the Spirit of Christ, I cannot see true righteousness in these parents’ acts.
Well, the reason for the phone call Rev. Neumark received was that the young people couldn’t get into the shelter. It seems that a drunken man had fallen asleep at the top of the stairs that lead down to the shelter, blocking the entrance. Eventually, someone managed to rouse the man, got him to move and the youth were able to get down the stairs and to their beds.
When Neumark arrived home later that evening, she saw someone sleeping on the sidewalk in front of the church. She thought it may have been the same man. What really caught her eye, however, was the quilt draped over the sleeping man. It was one of the quilts that had been made by the sister of a church member. This woman had fought through terminal pancreatic cancer to finish enough quilts so that all the shelter residents would have one. Neumark soon learned how the man came to be sleeping under that quilt. She reports, “One of our social workers saw a shelter resident named Raven come in, pull out her bed, and disappear with her quilt. Raven laid it on top of the man on the sidewalk. She’d decided that he needed it more than she did.” [Neumark, “What Does God Look Like?” The Christian Century, December 2022, Vol. 139, No. 20; https://www.christiancentury.org/article/voices/what-does-god-look] Raven, I believe, understood the spirit of God’s Law and acted on it. She showed mercy even though it cost her something. In doing so, she fulfilled God’s desire that we imitate God’s own love.
As we prepare to celebrate the coming of Christ, let us remember that he taught us that the heart of the Law is to love God with the totality of our beings and to love our neighbors—be they friend or enemy—as ourselves. Let us seek God’s grace so that we may embody that love in acts of mercy and deeds of compassion. For then—like Joseph, Welles and Raven—we will demonstrate the righteousness that God desires and thus fulfill our call to be the people of God and disciples of Jesus.