'Tis the Season: Part Two

Since today marks the first real snowfall of this winter, I figured today was a good day to continue my series on Christmas. We're just eleven days away, folks! This Sunday my father-in-law preached on Joseph. Interestingly, I had been thinking about Joseph for about a week before he preached that message. I've always applied Mary's story to my life, probably because as a teenage girl she was the most relatable character for me. Her lessons about accepting God's will and being a servant were always a pivotal part of the Christmas story to me. This year, however, it has been Joseph that has struck a bolder note for me. I think it has something to do with my position in life.

All the past years I've been learning from the Christmas story, I've been a young woman under my father's roof, looking forward to a future that had not quite arrived. I could relate more to Mary: still a young woman, still under or just barely out of her father's care, overwhelmed by the changes in her life. This year, however, I've moved past that stage. My future is here. I'm struggling to find my way, with a partner but independent from the authority of my parents. Just in my four months as a married woman I have seen multiple times how plans change at the moment I think I have them figured out.

I think that's why I feel drawn to Joseph's story this year. He was a young man stepping out into his future. His whole life was figured out and going well: he had been promised a beautiful, godly young wife, he had a career in carpentry, he was planning to take his place as a member of his religious and cultural community. He knew the challenges ahead. Caring for a wife, and eventually a family, was not an easy task. He would work hard, pray hard, and he would have a good life. He hoped to be respected, maybe even admired, for his faithfulness and dedication.

Then his wife-to-be showed up pregnant. In an instant, every plan he had made was thrown into chaos. On the surface, there was one explanation: Mary was not the godly, faithful girl he believed her to be. Her situation was disgraceful, shameful to herself and to him. Who could respect a man whose own wife would do such a disrespectful thing? He would have to divorce her, and his dream of a happy family life would be gone. It was a terrifying change of plans. But the other option was still more terrifying: Mary was telling the truth. The concept itself was hard enough to grasp: Mary was carrying the Messiah he had been waiting for all his life. That she was still faithful and pure was a relief, but what was he to do now? Could he be the earthly father to the Son of God? How would people look at him if he did not divorce the woman they thought was an adulteress? The quiet, moderately successful life he wanted was but a memory of a dream.

Joseph doesn't play as central a part in the Christmas story as does Mary or Christ the baby Himself. He is given guidance in dreams to keep his family safe, and then he fades into the back ground of the "silent night" picture of the mother and child. While Mary "treasured up all these things and pondered them", Joseph's reaction to the shepherds and their tales of singing angels, to the wise men and their precious gifts, to Simeon and Anna in the temple, is never recorded. I think, though, that he must have treasured those things, too. He must have been stunned by the direction his life had taken, how he was thrust from normalcy and mundanity onto an exciting, supernatural, and sometimes frightening new path. I wonder if he often thanked God for his life and all its trials. I wonder if, every now and then, he wished he had his old life back because of the stresses he faced.

I also wonder if I will ever have the strength, courage, and consistency that shine through in Joseph's limited scenes. What an intimidating challenge he faced; what a thrilling and frightening life he led! In my whole life I will never deal with anything close to the ordeals he did. I can only hope I will handle them with the same solidness and faith.