Are you an atheist? Of course not! Or at least, that’s the answer I would expect from many of you. As you probably know, an atheist is someone who does not believe in the existence of God. The word actually comes from the Greek- coincidentally, the same language that the New Testament was originally written in- meaning “without God” (a=without, theos=God). Atheism has grown in acceptability over time, causing more and more people to openly state the fact that they do not believe that God exists. As troublesome as this trend is, perhaps another less noticed trend is more dangerous, specifically to Christian communities. When Jesus returned to Nazareth, the people did not have faith in Him. The Greek word used to describe them is not atheist, but apistia (a=without, pistia=faith). They believed he existed; after all he was standing right in front of them. However, they could not explain his wisdom or his power, so they simply chose to reject Him, placing no faith in His claims to be the Messiah, the Son of God. I would argue that this attitude poses a far greater threat to our churches today than atheism. It is not enough to claim to believe that God exists; we must also place our trust in Him. If we say that God exists, and yet are “without faith”, we are no different than the people of Nazareth that saw Him standing in front of them, but rejected Him nonetheless. It is a difficult, and yet necessary question to ask ourselves: is the sum of our faith a mere statement that God exists, or is it evident by the way we our lives that we have put our trust in God? Are our lives ordered differently because of our conviction that God is alive and among us?
Showing posts with label Matthew. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Matthew. Show all posts
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Matthew 11:25-30: An Invitation to Lay Aside Legalism
If you're like me, you can't read this passage without hearing the words of the old hymn, "ye that labor, and are heavy laden, lean upon your dear Lord's breast, ye that labor and are heavy laden come and I will give you rest." I must admit that I have actually thought more about the song than about this particular passage, and even then sometimes I am not sure exactly what I am singing about. What is this rest Jesus is talking about? Who is he referring to as heavy laden? My instinct is to go to the stock answers of "salvation" for rest, and "sinners" for heavy laden. While in some sense that may be partially correct, I think there is something deeper going on here in these few verses. Within the span of six verses, I think Jesus is really inviting us to consider an entirely different way of living.
Before we think about the invitation offered to us, perhaps its helpful to first consider the one who is extending it. The simple fact is, most of us decide whether to accept or decline an invitation based on who is doing the offering, rather than what is being offered. How close are you to the person inviting you to attend something, or to go somewhere? Or, how important is the person inviting you? If you aren't close to them, or if you don't see them as important in some way, chances are you will take a rain-check, to put it politely. In this instance, the answer will vary for each of us on the first score. Each of us has a unique relationship with Jesus. Some would consider themselves close to Christ, while others may want to have nothing to do with Him. On the second score though, our faith tells us that Jesus importance is an absolute, irrevocable truth.
The first half of this passage is, to put it simply, the revealing of exactly how important Jesus is. Right off the bat, he revolutionizes how we think of prayer by referring to God as "my Father". It is true that Jewish prayer often referred to God as "our Father", but "my Father"? It's unprecedented. Jesus is either full of hubris, or he has a significantly more intimate relationship with God than we ever imagined was possible. The content of this private prayer, prayed so as to be overheard, shows us that in fact Jesus, the Christ, knows God on a very personal level. Jesus understands that it is the Father's good pleasure to reverse human expecations and reveal Himself to little children, while hiding Himself from the wise. Jesus is bringing more to the table here than a stuffy, intellectual knowledge of the Father. He knows more than simple facts about the nature of God. Jesus knowledge of the Father is grounded in a mutual, exclusive relationship. It's a knowledge based on experience. It's similar to knowing how someone takes their coffee, what they are allergic too, or what band they hate with a passion, but on a far deeper and more profound level. Yes, it's a knowledge born of experience, but at the same time it encompasses more than the mundane details that accentuate our life. Jesus knowledge of the Father demands that we take His invitation seriously. It demands that we at least hear Him out.
It is worth noting that when Jesus offers His invitation, he offers it to all who labor and are heavy laden. Not to the elect, the predestined, or the especially spiritual. The question is not "how good are you?" It's, "are you weary?"
Weary from what you may ask? It's a fair question. From sin? From work? From trying to please everyone? The answer doesn't come immediately, but it does come if we continue to follow Jesus journey through the pages of Matthew. In Matthew 23:4 while referring to the scribes and Pharisees, Jesus says that they "tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the peoples shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to move them with their finger." Peter would echo Christ's words at the Jerusalem Council in Acts 15 when he asks his fellow Jewish Christians, "now, therefore, why are you putting God to the test by placing a yoke on the neck of of the disciples that neither our fathers nor we have been able to bear?" (v. 10) Jesus invitation isn't to the sin-burdened or work-burdened, it's to the law-burdened. It's to those who live in a place of frustration because their repeated attempts at being righteous always seem to come up short. It's to those who live in a state of mental paralysis for fear that they have forgotten to follow some tennant of the law. It's to those who would receive an "A" for effort, if only effort were the rubric by which they were being graded.
Jesus invitation is to lay aside the yoke of legalism, and to learn from Him. It's not a get-out-of-jail-free card, or a free pass. It's not an excuse to never again put forth any effort. Instead, it's the spiritual equivalent of pitching in a baseball game with a huge lead. If you talk to any pitcher, they will tell you that it's always easier to pitch when you have a lead of several runs. If you are pitching from behind, in a tied ballgame, or even in a game with only a small lead, you throw each pitch with the knowledge that one mistake could make all the difference in the world. It's extremey stressful to have to perform under such conditions, and very few can do so successfully for even a short period of time, little lone all of the time. Why does it make such a big difference you may ask? Well, when we try to perform knowing that one mistake leads to failure on a larger scale, we find ourself acting with fear as our primary motivation, fear of anything and everythin that can go wrong. However, when we perform with the knowledge that our errors will not be all the defines us- and make no mistake, our errors are inevitable- we are freed to focus on the task at hand. Purpose rather than fear becomes our defining characteristic.
What we discover through this passage is that Jesus invitation is about more than salvation. Or, perhaps a better way of stating it would be to simply say that Jesus redefines what salvation actually is. Jesus death on the cross was about more than where we go when we die, it was and is about how we live from the moment we reorient ourselves to follow in the footsteps of our Master. Jesus death was about freeing us from sin and death, the yoke of the old law, and thus at the same time enabling us to accept His invitation to "learn from me." It is absolutely critical that we understand that Jesus did not say "learn about me", as if he were some figure confined to the pages of history by space and time. Instead, he said "learn from me". It's an invitation to learn what it means to forgive, to serve, and to love. It's an invitation to imagine all that is possible when instead of focusing on our failures, we focus all of our energy on loving the Lord our God with all of our heart, soul, and mind; and loving our neighbor as ourselves. If we truly invest our time in learning these things from Christ, instead of learning about Christ, then perhaps our communities will be defined by Christ-like disciples living out the message of Jesus in their lives, rather than over-burdened legalists striving in vain for perfection, all the while carrying around a Jesus who never leaves the pages of the Bible in their hand.
Before we think about the invitation offered to us, perhaps its helpful to first consider the one who is extending it. The simple fact is, most of us decide whether to accept or decline an invitation based on who is doing the offering, rather than what is being offered. How close are you to the person inviting you to attend something, or to go somewhere? Or, how important is the person inviting you? If you aren't close to them, or if you don't see them as important in some way, chances are you will take a rain-check, to put it politely. In this instance, the answer will vary for each of us on the first score. Each of us has a unique relationship with Jesus. Some would consider themselves close to Christ, while others may want to have nothing to do with Him. On the second score though, our faith tells us that Jesus importance is an absolute, irrevocable truth.
The first half of this passage is, to put it simply, the revealing of exactly how important Jesus is. Right off the bat, he revolutionizes how we think of prayer by referring to God as "my Father". It is true that Jewish prayer often referred to God as "our Father", but "my Father"? It's unprecedented. Jesus is either full of hubris, or he has a significantly more intimate relationship with God than we ever imagined was possible. The content of this private prayer, prayed so as to be overheard, shows us that in fact Jesus, the Christ, knows God on a very personal level. Jesus understands that it is the Father's good pleasure to reverse human expecations and reveal Himself to little children, while hiding Himself from the wise. Jesus is bringing more to the table here than a stuffy, intellectual knowledge of the Father. He knows more than simple facts about the nature of God. Jesus knowledge of the Father is grounded in a mutual, exclusive relationship. It's a knowledge based on experience. It's similar to knowing how someone takes their coffee, what they are allergic too, or what band they hate with a passion, but on a far deeper and more profound level. Yes, it's a knowledge born of experience, but at the same time it encompasses more than the mundane details that accentuate our life. Jesus knowledge of the Father demands that we take His invitation seriously. It demands that we at least hear Him out.
It is worth noting that when Jesus offers His invitation, he offers it to all who labor and are heavy laden. Not to the elect, the predestined, or the especially spiritual. The question is not "how good are you?" It's, "are you weary?"
Weary from what you may ask? It's a fair question. From sin? From work? From trying to please everyone? The answer doesn't come immediately, but it does come if we continue to follow Jesus journey through the pages of Matthew. In Matthew 23:4 while referring to the scribes and Pharisees, Jesus says that they "tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the peoples shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to move them with their finger." Peter would echo Christ's words at the Jerusalem Council in Acts 15 when he asks his fellow Jewish Christians, "now, therefore, why are you putting God to the test by placing a yoke on the neck of of the disciples that neither our fathers nor we have been able to bear?" (v. 10) Jesus invitation isn't to the sin-burdened or work-burdened, it's to the law-burdened. It's to those who live in a place of frustration because their repeated attempts at being righteous always seem to come up short. It's to those who live in a state of mental paralysis for fear that they have forgotten to follow some tennant of the law. It's to those who would receive an "A" for effort, if only effort were the rubric by which they were being graded.
Jesus invitation is to lay aside the yoke of legalism, and to learn from Him. It's not a get-out-of-jail-free card, or a free pass. It's not an excuse to never again put forth any effort. Instead, it's the spiritual equivalent of pitching in a baseball game with a huge lead. If you talk to any pitcher, they will tell you that it's always easier to pitch when you have a lead of several runs. If you are pitching from behind, in a tied ballgame, or even in a game with only a small lead, you throw each pitch with the knowledge that one mistake could make all the difference in the world. It's extremey stressful to have to perform under such conditions, and very few can do so successfully for even a short period of time, little lone all of the time. Why does it make such a big difference you may ask? Well, when we try to perform knowing that one mistake leads to failure on a larger scale, we find ourself acting with fear as our primary motivation, fear of anything and everythin that can go wrong. However, when we perform with the knowledge that our errors will not be all the defines us- and make no mistake, our errors are inevitable- we are freed to focus on the task at hand. Purpose rather than fear becomes our defining characteristic.
What we discover through this passage is that Jesus invitation is about more than salvation. Or, perhaps a better way of stating it would be to simply say that Jesus redefines what salvation actually is. Jesus death on the cross was about more than where we go when we die, it was and is about how we live from the moment we reorient ourselves to follow in the footsteps of our Master. Jesus death was about freeing us from sin and death, the yoke of the old law, and thus at the same time enabling us to accept His invitation to "learn from me." It is absolutely critical that we understand that Jesus did not say "learn about me", as if he were some figure confined to the pages of history by space and time. Instead, he said "learn from me". It's an invitation to learn what it means to forgive, to serve, and to love. It's an invitation to imagine all that is possible when instead of focusing on our failures, we focus all of our energy on loving the Lord our God with all of our heart, soul, and mind; and loving our neighbor as ourselves. If we truly invest our time in learning these things from Christ, instead of learning about Christ, then perhaps our communities will be defined by Christ-like disciples living out the message of Jesus in their lives, rather than over-burdened legalists striving in vain for perfection, all the while carrying around a Jesus who never leaves the pages of the Bible in their hand.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Matthew 20:1-16: Our economy of works and God's economy of grace
There is something wonderful about the parables that Jesus used to teach those around him. I think their effectiveness is rooted in our ability to relate to them in some way. Whether we find ourselves identifying with the "hero" or the "villian", through that act of identification we learn something about ourselves. Sometimes we learn that we too are desperately in need of mercy, while other times we learn that too often we fail to extend to others the very mercy that we ourselves have received.
That is the situation I find myself in as I read the parable of the laborers in the vineyard. When I am truly honest with myself, I find that this parable is a battleground between my own captalistic, free-market way of seeing the world around me, and God's economy of grace. It's not that I have given up the ghost on free-market economies. It's just that too often I think I try to apply the world's way of seeing things, to God's way of doing things. This is one of those parables that causes me to rethink how I envision grace, and in the process to reconsider how I see others who like myself, are so dependent on its accessibility.
I think the tendency to see this parable in economic terms is present because the context itself is one of labor micro-economics. All of us have at some point in our lives probably held a job that paid by the hour, and so we know that the whole system that determines compensation is based on some combination of how long you work, and the skills you possess to complete the task at hand. The parable starts out innoucuous enough, with the landowner of a vineyard hiring some day-laborers. I should point out that the vineyard had a long iconic history as a way of describing Israel, particualarly in the book of Isaiah, so while as I mentioned the parable starts out innocent enough, we still imagine that when its all said and done there are going to be some deeper meanings that we can take away from this quanit little story about a picking grapes.
As we probably suspected would eventually happen, the story begins to get tense when the landowner makes several more trips throughout the day to pick up more workers. The tension comes to a head when the end of the day arrives and the wages are distributed to the workers. Imagine the surprise of the workers who had toiled all day, in the hot sun no less, when they received the same amount as those who had just started working a few hours ago!
Our knee-jerk reaction, or at least my knee-jerk reaction, is to immediately sympathize with the laborers who put in a full day's work. I mean, what kind of system is this? How is it fair that a few hours of work merits the same pay as an entire day spent toiling in the heat?
The reason I have never been able to fully appreciate the message of this parable is summed up succintly by that word that I used in the previous sentence, merit. You see, this isn't a story about merit, it's a story about the reversal of human expectations in the kingdom of God. Lest we think that it is actually about merit, there are a few things that we should consider more closely:
- Those who worked the entire day received the exact wage that they had agreed to when they were first hired. If there is any injustice here, it is not because these workers have received less than they deserved. In fact, they received exactly what they were told they would receive, the standard wage for a day's work (in this context a denarius).
- Those who are picked up later are available because of a lack of work elsewhere. For some reason, I have always made the assumption that these men were lay-abouts, the bottom of the barrel sort of worker that the landowner basically presses into service. Actually it is quite the opposite, as the landowner asks one of the men directly "why do you stand here idle all day?", to which the man replies "because no one has hired us." (Matthew 20:6-7) What we have here is not a lack of initiative, but rather a lack of opportunity.
- A lot has changed since 1st-century Palestine. Today we have things like unemployment insurance, welfare, and social security to ensure that our most vulnerable citizens, and those at a disadvantage are taken care of. In the context of this parable, there was no such thing. Sure, the religious helped out when they could through charitible giving, but there was not a systematic safety net administered by the government. To put it simply, if you didn't work you didn't eat, and you probably didn't have a roof over your head for very long either. As we have learned through our nation's current economic struggles, the lack of employment is not always connected to laziness, but sometimes is a product of the lack of opportunity. In Jesus' world, the lazy and the down-on-their-luck were in the same metaphorical boat. Poverty, hunger, and homelessness were indiscriminate.
Taking these things into consideration, it is easier to see that there is more at work here than originally meets the eye. In going out multiple times in search of laborers, the landowner is actually showing a type of grace that manifests itself in the opportunity to earn a living. Many commentators believe that he goes out not because the job is bigger than he originally thought, but because he is wanting to employ as many people as possible. It sounds ludicrous at first, especially when considered in light of sound business principles, but then again how many business owners do you know that pay someone a full day's wage for a few hours of work? If we truly want to understand what Jesus is trying to tell us, we have to lay aside our understanding of how the world works, and instead embrace Jesus words at the very beginning of the passage, "the kingdom of heaven is like..." Jesus is not describing some business venture in the world of agriculture. If he were, the problem of scarcity would surely come crashing down on a landowner who hired too many workers, and paid them too much. The whole point of what Jesus is trying to say is that in the kingdom of heaven, the problem of scarcity does not exist. Many of us have to compete for contracts or other types of business in our jobs. We compete because there is only so much business to go around. Similarly, we compete for jobs themselves because as we have learned all too well recently, there are not enough of them to go around. However, we must diligently guard against allowing the way we view things in the workplace to slowly creep into the way we view things in our churches. We must never compete for grace the way we compete for business or for jobs.
I doubt that those laborers who worked all day would ever admit to trying to deny the other workers an opportunity to feed their families. And yet, when you boil it down that's exactly what they were doing. Because they viewed the other laborers as competition, they objected to the showing of grace to those men (and perhaps women, who knows). The ironic thing about it is that they were the first to be shown grace, the moment that they were selected by the landowner to work in the vineyard. "But they earned that money fair and square!" you may be thinking. True enough, but only because they were given the opportunity to work.
Theories abound as to who Jesus was "really talking to" when he taught using this parable. Perhaps he was trying to send a message to the original twelve, the apostles who, on seeing so many other disciples begin to follow Jesus, were jockeying for position and favor. Or, maybe Jesus was speaking to Jewish-Christians whom he knew would be more than a little unsettled by the future prospect of Gentiles joining their ranks. It may even be that he was simply speaking to those "lifers" who looked suspiciously on anyone whose sudden, near-death conversion seemed to closely resemble the workers who put in little work, but received substantial wages nonetheless. Whomever Jesus was trying to reach through this parable- and whether or not it was any or all of the aforementioned we can all certainly agree that on the most fundamental level he was speaking to all of us- His message resonates to this day. You see, it's not really about the laborers. It's about a God who continuously searches for more laborers to work in his vineyard. It's about a God who gives us opportunities not because he has to, but because he wants to. It's about a God who gives to us based on our need, not on what we have earned. And most of all, it's about a God whose economy of grace has never been, and will never be subject to the laws of scarcity.
That is the situation I find myself in as I read the parable of the laborers in the vineyard. When I am truly honest with myself, I find that this parable is a battleground between my own captalistic, free-market way of seeing the world around me, and God's economy of grace. It's not that I have given up the ghost on free-market economies. It's just that too often I think I try to apply the world's way of seeing things, to God's way of doing things. This is one of those parables that causes me to rethink how I envision grace, and in the process to reconsider how I see others who like myself, are so dependent on its accessibility.
I think the tendency to see this parable in economic terms is present because the context itself is one of labor micro-economics. All of us have at some point in our lives probably held a job that paid by the hour, and so we know that the whole system that determines compensation is based on some combination of how long you work, and the skills you possess to complete the task at hand. The parable starts out innoucuous enough, with the landowner of a vineyard hiring some day-laborers. I should point out that the vineyard had a long iconic history as a way of describing Israel, particualarly in the book of Isaiah, so while as I mentioned the parable starts out innocent enough, we still imagine that when its all said and done there are going to be some deeper meanings that we can take away from this quanit little story about a picking grapes.
As we probably suspected would eventually happen, the story begins to get tense when the landowner makes several more trips throughout the day to pick up more workers. The tension comes to a head when the end of the day arrives and the wages are distributed to the workers. Imagine the surprise of the workers who had toiled all day, in the hot sun no less, when they received the same amount as those who had just started working a few hours ago!
Our knee-jerk reaction, or at least my knee-jerk reaction, is to immediately sympathize with the laborers who put in a full day's work. I mean, what kind of system is this? How is it fair that a few hours of work merits the same pay as an entire day spent toiling in the heat?
The reason I have never been able to fully appreciate the message of this parable is summed up succintly by that word that I used in the previous sentence, merit. You see, this isn't a story about merit, it's a story about the reversal of human expectations in the kingdom of God. Lest we think that it is actually about merit, there are a few things that we should consider more closely:
- Those who worked the entire day received the exact wage that they had agreed to when they were first hired. If there is any injustice here, it is not because these workers have received less than they deserved. In fact, they received exactly what they were told they would receive, the standard wage for a day's work (in this context a denarius).
- Those who are picked up later are available because of a lack of work elsewhere. For some reason, I have always made the assumption that these men were lay-abouts, the bottom of the barrel sort of worker that the landowner basically presses into service. Actually it is quite the opposite, as the landowner asks one of the men directly "why do you stand here idle all day?", to which the man replies "because no one has hired us." (Matthew 20:6-7) What we have here is not a lack of initiative, but rather a lack of opportunity.
- A lot has changed since 1st-century Palestine. Today we have things like unemployment insurance, welfare, and social security to ensure that our most vulnerable citizens, and those at a disadvantage are taken care of. In the context of this parable, there was no such thing. Sure, the religious helped out when they could through charitible giving, but there was not a systematic safety net administered by the government. To put it simply, if you didn't work you didn't eat, and you probably didn't have a roof over your head for very long either. As we have learned through our nation's current economic struggles, the lack of employment is not always connected to laziness, but sometimes is a product of the lack of opportunity. In Jesus' world, the lazy and the down-on-their-luck were in the same metaphorical boat. Poverty, hunger, and homelessness were indiscriminate.
Taking these things into consideration, it is easier to see that there is more at work here than originally meets the eye. In going out multiple times in search of laborers, the landowner is actually showing a type of grace that manifests itself in the opportunity to earn a living. Many commentators believe that he goes out not because the job is bigger than he originally thought, but because he is wanting to employ as many people as possible. It sounds ludicrous at first, especially when considered in light of sound business principles, but then again how many business owners do you know that pay someone a full day's wage for a few hours of work? If we truly want to understand what Jesus is trying to tell us, we have to lay aside our understanding of how the world works, and instead embrace Jesus words at the very beginning of the passage, "the kingdom of heaven is like..." Jesus is not describing some business venture in the world of agriculture. If he were, the problem of scarcity would surely come crashing down on a landowner who hired too many workers, and paid them too much. The whole point of what Jesus is trying to say is that in the kingdom of heaven, the problem of scarcity does not exist. Many of us have to compete for contracts or other types of business in our jobs. We compete because there is only so much business to go around. Similarly, we compete for jobs themselves because as we have learned all too well recently, there are not enough of them to go around. However, we must diligently guard against allowing the way we view things in the workplace to slowly creep into the way we view things in our churches. We must never compete for grace the way we compete for business or for jobs.
I doubt that those laborers who worked all day would ever admit to trying to deny the other workers an opportunity to feed their families. And yet, when you boil it down that's exactly what they were doing. Because they viewed the other laborers as competition, they objected to the showing of grace to those men (and perhaps women, who knows). The ironic thing about it is that they were the first to be shown grace, the moment that they were selected by the landowner to work in the vineyard. "But they earned that money fair and square!" you may be thinking. True enough, but only because they were given the opportunity to work.
Theories abound as to who Jesus was "really talking to" when he taught using this parable. Perhaps he was trying to send a message to the original twelve, the apostles who, on seeing so many other disciples begin to follow Jesus, were jockeying for position and favor. Or, maybe Jesus was speaking to Jewish-Christians whom he knew would be more than a little unsettled by the future prospect of Gentiles joining their ranks. It may even be that he was simply speaking to those "lifers" who looked suspiciously on anyone whose sudden, near-death conversion seemed to closely resemble the workers who put in little work, but received substantial wages nonetheless. Whomever Jesus was trying to reach through this parable- and whether or not it was any or all of the aforementioned we can all certainly agree that on the most fundamental level he was speaking to all of us- His message resonates to this day. You see, it's not really about the laborers. It's about a God who continuously searches for more laborers to work in his vineyard. It's about a God who gives us opportunities not because he has to, but because he wants to. It's about a God who gives to us based on our need, not on what we have earned. And most of all, it's about a God whose economy of grace has never been, and will never be subject to the laws of scarcity.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Matthew 1:18-25: Fatherhood as faithful response
Parenthood, whether it be as a mother or as a father, is nothing less than a life-long ministry. A few weeks ago I shared some thoughts on motherhood as an act of faith, thoughts that were born out of reflection on Mary's story as we find it in Luke. This past Sunday I took a very similar approach as we considered fatherhood through the lens of faith, except of course this time our subject was Joseph rather than Mary, and the context was the gospel of Matthew rather than the gospel of Luke.
The more you study the gospels, the more you appreciate the reasons why we have more than one. Each gospel gives us a different perspective on the story of Jesus. Often times that difference in perspective is the result of experiencing the story through different characters in the narrative. While Joseph is hardly mentioned in Luke, in Matthew he takes a more central role, particularly in the period leading up to Jesus' birth. The story of Joseph reveals to us that while motherhood and fatherhood are both roles to be accepted in faith, they are also roles that differ in significant ways.
One of the things that is pretty noticeable in Matthew is that Joseph's response is less passive than Mary's. That is not to say that Mary wasn't involved, as we know she was the most involved of all! However, Mary's action is of the passive kind. After assenting to play the role of Jesus' mother, she has no choice but to be actively involved, as she spends every minute of the next nine months carrying the Messiah in her womb. Joseph on the other hand, must make a choice to be involved. His participation in the story is in no way guaranteed, a reality that is driven home by the notable absence of so many fathers in the world around us today.
As we study Joseph's story, we are told by Matthew that it is actually the beginning of Jesus story, at least in terms of Jesus life as the incarnate Word. Matthew uses the Greek word "genesis" in verse 18 to described the "beginning" of Jesus. Some translations, including the one I use (the ESV), translate this as "birth". However, when Matthew wants to refer to "birth" as in the act of bearing a child, he uses an entirely different word. No, here Matthew is telling us of the beginning of Jesus, linking it to events in the life of Joseph that take place months before Jesus' actual birth. This tells us something very powerful about the role of the father, namely that the decisions that a father makes- specifically the decision as to whether to play an active role in their child's life- begin impacting the child even before they are born.
As you might imagine, the story begins to get a little messy here, as Mary turns up pregnant before her and Joseph have come together as husband and wife. Engagement and marriage worked differently in Jesus' day and time than it does in ours. For us, breaking off an engagement is a social, but not legal or religious act. For them, an engagement functioned as part of the marriage. Once you were engaged, you were as good as married in the eyes of the law, the difference being that the girl continued to live with her parents during the period of engagement, usually because she wasn't old enough to marry and begin to bear children. The transitioning of the girl from her family's house to that of her husband marked the transition from engagement to marriage, but again, there was no legal change. That's why when Mary is discovered to be pregnant, Joseph must decide how he will go about divorcing her. According to the law, divorcing Mary was the right thing to do, which is why Joseph is referred to as a "righteous" man, he desires to follow the law. And yet, he has options in terms of how he goes about adhering to the law, and we see Joseph's character come out in the method that he chooses. He decides to divorce Mary quietly, with only the necessary number of witnesses present, rather than divorcing her in a showy trial that would have no doubt brought more embarrassment on Mary, exposing her to even more public ridicule. Through Joseph's actions a theme emerges that will appear in Matthew a number of times, the theme of following the law while maintaining compassion and showing mercy whenever possible.
Before Joseph can take this more compassionate course of action, he is visited by an angel in a dream. Wehave read and heard the angel's proclamation numerous times, more than likely in the context of the Christmas story. While the angel's message tells us a good deal about who it is Mary will give birth to, it also tells us a few things about Joseph. First of all, he is of the lineage of David. This is important because it is through Joseph that Jesus will be able to claim David as his ancestor. Second, we learn that Joseph should go-ahead with his marriage to Mary, because despite all appearances, she is innocent of any wrong-doing. In fact, it is actually quite the opposite, as through faith Mary has consented to give birth to the Messiah. Joseph is told explicitly that it was actually the Holy Spirit that caused Mary to conceive the child (since this is about Joseph I will refrain from going into detail about the parallels present between Genesis 1 and the story of Jesus "genesis", but they are glaringly present). As Joseph attempts to digest what he has just learned, he is told that there is a specific action that he must take, in addition to moving forward with his marriage to Mary. He must name the child Jesus. While it's easy to get caught up in Jesus' name and it's etymology ("Yahweh saves"), the act of naming Jesus is just important. You see, in naming Jesus Joseph is quite literally claiming him as his own son, and formally adopting him as his heir. While this didn't put Jesus in line to inherit much money, it did make Him a descendent and heir of the Davidic line, justifying His claim to be the Davidic Messiah. Again, we learn something extremely important about the father-child relationship. Being a father has a lot less to do about biological kinship and bloodlines, and a lot more to do with love, provision, and a supporting presence. The fact that the Savior of the world was an adopted child should not go unnoticed, and should teach us that in the eyes of God there is nothing incomplete or lacking in the relationships built between adoptive parents and adoptive children. In fact, God has used and continues to use those relationships in very powerful ways to achieve his purposes.
In all probability Joseph was dead by the time Jesus began his ministry. The lifespan of a male in 1st-century Palestine was brief when compared to lifespans today. And yet, by all accounts Joseph made great use of the time that he had with Jesus. If all we know of Joseph is that he sought to please God while also showing compassion to those around him, and that he literally gave everything he had, including his lineage, to a child through adoption, then we know enough to see that Joseph is someone worth emulating. I have no doubt that our world would be a better place if every man followed Joseph in making the conscientious decision to be involved in the life of their child, and to see fatherhood not as a role determined by bloodlines and DNA, but as a nurturing relationship built on selfless love and compassion.
The more you study the gospels, the more you appreciate the reasons why we have more than one. Each gospel gives us a different perspective on the story of Jesus. Often times that difference in perspective is the result of experiencing the story through different characters in the narrative. While Joseph is hardly mentioned in Luke, in Matthew he takes a more central role, particularly in the period leading up to Jesus' birth. The story of Joseph reveals to us that while motherhood and fatherhood are both roles to be accepted in faith, they are also roles that differ in significant ways.
One of the things that is pretty noticeable in Matthew is that Joseph's response is less passive than Mary's. That is not to say that Mary wasn't involved, as we know she was the most involved of all! However, Mary's action is of the passive kind. After assenting to play the role of Jesus' mother, she has no choice but to be actively involved, as she spends every minute of the next nine months carrying the Messiah in her womb. Joseph on the other hand, must make a choice to be involved. His participation in the story is in no way guaranteed, a reality that is driven home by the notable absence of so many fathers in the world around us today.
As we study Joseph's story, we are told by Matthew that it is actually the beginning of Jesus story, at least in terms of Jesus life as the incarnate Word. Matthew uses the Greek word "genesis" in verse 18 to described the "beginning" of Jesus. Some translations, including the one I use (the ESV), translate this as "birth". However, when Matthew wants to refer to "birth" as in the act of bearing a child, he uses an entirely different word. No, here Matthew is telling us of the beginning of Jesus, linking it to events in the life of Joseph that take place months before Jesus' actual birth. This tells us something very powerful about the role of the father, namely that the decisions that a father makes- specifically the decision as to whether to play an active role in their child's life- begin impacting the child even before they are born.
As you might imagine, the story begins to get a little messy here, as Mary turns up pregnant before her and Joseph have come together as husband and wife. Engagement and marriage worked differently in Jesus' day and time than it does in ours. For us, breaking off an engagement is a social, but not legal or religious act. For them, an engagement functioned as part of the marriage. Once you were engaged, you were as good as married in the eyes of the law, the difference being that the girl continued to live with her parents during the period of engagement, usually because she wasn't old enough to marry and begin to bear children. The transitioning of the girl from her family's house to that of her husband marked the transition from engagement to marriage, but again, there was no legal change. That's why when Mary is discovered to be pregnant, Joseph must decide how he will go about divorcing her. According to the law, divorcing Mary was the right thing to do, which is why Joseph is referred to as a "righteous" man, he desires to follow the law. And yet, he has options in terms of how he goes about adhering to the law, and we see Joseph's character come out in the method that he chooses. He decides to divorce Mary quietly, with only the necessary number of witnesses present, rather than divorcing her in a showy trial that would have no doubt brought more embarrassment on Mary, exposing her to even more public ridicule. Through Joseph's actions a theme emerges that will appear in Matthew a number of times, the theme of following the law while maintaining compassion and showing mercy whenever possible.
Before Joseph can take this more compassionate course of action, he is visited by an angel in a dream. Wehave read and heard the angel's proclamation numerous times, more than likely in the context of the Christmas story. While the angel's message tells us a good deal about who it is Mary will give birth to, it also tells us a few things about Joseph. First of all, he is of the lineage of David. This is important because it is through Joseph that Jesus will be able to claim David as his ancestor. Second, we learn that Joseph should go-ahead with his marriage to Mary, because despite all appearances, she is innocent of any wrong-doing. In fact, it is actually quite the opposite, as through faith Mary has consented to give birth to the Messiah. Joseph is told explicitly that it was actually the Holy Spirit that caused Mary to conceive the child (since this is about Joseph I will refrain from going into detail about the parallels present between Genesis 1 and the story of Jesus "genesis", but they are glaringly present). As Joseph attempts to digest what he has just learned, he is told that there is a specific action that he must take, in addition to moving forward with his marriage to Mary. He must name the child Jesus. While it's easy to get caught up in Jesus' name and it's etymology ("Yahweh saves"), the act of naming Jesus is just important. You see, in naming Jesus Joseph is quite literally claiming him as his own son, and formally adopting him as his heir. While this didn't put Jesus in line to inherit much money, it did make Him a descendent and heir of the Davidic line, justifying His claim to be the Davidic Messiah. Again, we learn something extremely important about the father-child relationship. Being a father has a lot less to do about biological kinship and bloodlines, and a lot more to do with love, provision, and a supporting presence. The fact that the Savior of the world was an adopted child should not go unnoticed, and should teach us that in the eyes of God there is nothing incomplete or lacking in the relationships built between adoptive parents and adoptive children. In fact, God has used and continues to use those relationships in very powerful ways to achieve his purposes.
In all probability Joseph was dead by the time Jesus began his ministry. The lifespan of a male in 1st-century Palestine was brief when compared to lifespans today. And yet, by all accounts Joseph made great use of the time that he had with Jesus. If all we know of Joseph is that he sought to please God while also showing compassion to those around him, and that he literally gave everything he had, including his lineage, to a child through adoption, then we know enough to see that Joseph is someone worth emulating. I have no doubt that our world would be a better place if every man followed Joseph in making the conscientious decision to be involved in the life of their child, and to see fatherhood not as a role determined by bloodlines and DNA, but as a nurturing relationship built on selfless love and compassion.
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