Promise

Numbers 23: 19

Hebrews 6: 10-12

Matthew 1: 18-25

Promise

In Tom Brokaw's book The Greatest Generation, a story is told of Mary Wilson, presently of Dallas, Texas. You would never know by looking at this modest woman that she was the recipient of the Silver Star and she bore the nickname "The Angel of Anzio." You will recall that when the Allies got bogged down in the boot of Italy during World War II, they attempted a daring breakout by launching an amphibious landing on the Anzio Beach. Unfortunately, the Allies got pinned down at the landing site and came dangerously close to being driven back into the ocean. It looked like another Dunkirk was in the making.

Mary Wilson was the head of the fifty-one army nurses who went ashore at Anzio. Things got so bad that bullets zipped through her tent as she assisted the surgeon in surgery. When the situation continued to deteriorate arrangements were made to get all of the nurses out. But Mary Wilson would have none of it. She refused to leave at the gravest hour. As she related her story years later, she said: "How could I possibly leave them. I had made a promise to take care of them. I was a part of them."

Mary Wilson certainly had her own safety and welfare to be concerned about at Anzio. But her promise was more important to her than her life. A promise made, and kept.

Joseph certainly had his own honor and good standing in mind when he decided to break his engagement to Mary privately. But he was primarily, we are told, concerned for her honor and perhaps for her very life. What Joseph learned from the angel in a dream was that his promise to wed Mary mattered, and had to be fulfilled, because it was part of God’s plan to fulfill his far greater promise to bring into the world a savior from sin and death. This conception was like no other conception in all of human history because the child of Mary was the Immanuel that Isaiah promised.

Just imagine what Joseph's emotions must have been. How confused and torn he must have been. We don’t know exactly what happened after the dream, but imagine what it must have been like for him in that society. We have no idea how or if Joseph tried to explain the miracle to relatives or friends, or what they believed, we can only imagine—but from a human point of view this was far from the solution to his problems. His problems were only beginning. He made a promise to Mary, and with God’s presence he kept it. He had to make a long miserable trip with Mary to Bethlehem, where he could not find a proper place for Jesus to be born. He had to flee to Egypt to save his child’s life.

What stands out in this brief story about Joseph is his faith. It is important to see that Joseph was not a gullible man. He did not believe Mary's story at first, any more than we would have if we had been in his position. And Matthew's narrative implies no blame for that. If ever a man was justified in feeling righteous anger, it was Joseph. Joseph had every reason, culturally, legally, religiously, to put Mary aside. He had every right not only to cast her aside, but to do so publicly and watch her be stoned for adultery. In fact that was what his family, his society expected of him and even his religious leaders required of him.

Joseph’s refusal to sidestep the issue of an uncomfortable pregnancy outside of wedlock reminds us that it is precisely in the common events of family and relationships that God's salvation takes place. Often overlooked in Christmas celebrations is the fact that it is Joseph, not Mary, who holds center stage. We overlook that it is Joseph, a good Jewish man knowledgeable of Jewish law and raised and educated to be obedient to that law, who risks all for the sake of Mary and a child not his own. It is Joseph who risks disobedience to the traditions of his society and the law of his religion for the sake of obedience to the command and promise of God, given through the angel in a dream.

Like Joseph we have the word of God in the midst of trouble and turbulence. The promise spoken by Isaiah and repeated by the angel to Joseph is not for him alone but is good news for all people: “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel”. The promise stands sure even when the Christmas season may come for some with suffering and loss. Indeed, the story of Joseph as told in Matthew serves as an antidote to an overly sentimental Christmas. Yet what we have in this text is not a bucket of cold water that douses our celebration. Rather, we have the living water of God’s promises fulfilled— the real reason we celebrate Christmas.

Matthew doesn't want Joseph or any of us to get stuck in the dream. Matthew wants to bring us back down to earth, back to our waking reality, by invoking the name of Immanuel. Because if the Jesus, whose name was given to Joseph in a dream, is to do us any good, he'd better meet us and be with us in all those times when dreams end and when the crushing weight of a miserable world comes crashing down around our shoulders again. If he is only Jesus, the one who saves us from our sins, it would still be too easy to turn him into the one who also saves us out of the real world. But if he is Immanuel, then we realize we don't have to go anywhere to meet him other than the hurly-burly reality of our Monday mornings and our Thursday afternoons. We don't have to go find him in some other realm because he has already found us in exactly this realm and this world.

Immanuel is God-with-us in the cancer clinic and in the Alzheimer's ward at the local nursing home. Immanuel is God-with-us when the pink slip comes and when the beloved child sneers, "I hate you!" Immanuel is God-with-us when you pack the Christmas decorations away and, with an aching heart, you realize afresh that your one son never did call over the holidays. Not once. Immanuel is God-with-us when your dear spouse or mother stares at you with an Alzheimer's glaze and absently asks, "What was your name again?"

I find it strange that God has never deserted me. I don't understand that kind of grace frankly. I do not deserve his eternal presence, nor do any of us. Yet, God has forever identified with the human dilemma. There may not be a soul in the world who truly understands your feelings. God understands. All in your life may fall away. God will never fall away.

Ever and always Jesus stares straight into you with his two good eyes and he does so not only when you can smile back but most certainly also when your own eyes are full of tears. In fact, Jesus is Immanuel, "God with you" even in those times when you are so angry with God that you refuse to meet his eyes. But even when you feel like you can't look at him, he never looks away from you. He can't. His name says it all.

Our God is a loving God. He does not desert us in our hour of need. He heard the cries of his people, Israel. He hears the cries of the church. He hears the cries of his children, you and I. Personally. Christmas is about God's eternal identification with us, each one of us.

Joseph, Mary and Jesus.  And, the Promise of God. In Joseph we see The Promise believed. In Mary, we see The Promise conceived. In Jesus, we see The Promise received. For you and I, we have the Promise given.