JOSEPH THE SILENT

Homily

Fourth Sunday of Advent

19 December 2010

On the Fourth Sunday of Advent we move directly, decisively, from the preaching of John the Baptist to the gospel accounts of the birth of Jesus. This year, our lectionary presents us with Matthew’s account. Writing for Jewish readers, Matthew is intent on showing Jesus as the fulfillment of the promise to Father Abraham and as the heir to King David. In the very first verse of his gospel, Matthew leaves no doubt about whom he is writing: The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.

Today’s gospel story tells us of the dream of Joseph after he discovers that Mary, his betrothed, is with child. His dream parallels the Annunciation to Mary in Luke’s gospel when she is invited to become the Mother of Jesus. The gospels use several words to describe Joseph. The characteristic we quote most often is “just;” some translations us the word “righteous” or “upright.” Luke’s gospel provides an account of Joseph and Mary taking Jesus to the temple on the eighth day after his birth in accordance to the dictates in the law of the Lord. Joseph is, therefore, not only just, righteous, upright; he is also obedient.

But there is another characteristic of Joseph that precedes his righteousness and obedience. Joseph is before all else, silent. Unlike Mary, whose words are remembered at the Annunciation, the Visitation and the wedding feast of Cana; unlike John the Baptist who can’t seem to stop talking; and unlike Peter who is always putting his foot in his mouth, our Saint Joseph is silent. No words of his are remembered when he learns that Mary is with child. It is a curious thing that when Mary, who has found favor with God, is told by Archangel Gabriel that she is to bear a son who will be called Son of the Most High, she wants to know: How can this be? But when Joseph is told: Do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home he does not play twenty questions with his dream angel. He is silent before the mystery of God’s plan. And it is that silence before mystery that lies at the heart of his righteousness, his obedience.

Mystery is not a detective story that challenges us to discover “who done it.” Mystery, in the world that is faith, is God’s plan of salvation, God’s way of doing things. There seems to be in our DNA a certain inbred Missouri gene. “Show me,” is our natural response to that which we cannot see. And when we cannot see, there is little reason to trust. That kind of reasoning works well in the genome of our daily life. “Show me” keeps us from being swindled by fast talking salesmen and from being duped when we hear “Yes, I did my homework.” But in the realm of faith, “show me” is a show stopper. The gentle flow of God’s grace is damned up when we hesitate, when we demand to see with our own two eyes rather than, like Joseph, dream our way into the mystery of God through the eyes of faith.

And it all begins with silence. Not a silence that cuts out all noise so we can hear ourselves think. But a silence that listens to hear what God thinks. Not a silence that is passive as the world around us buzzes with sounds of a too-busy everyday life. But a silence that actively listens for what God is trying to tell us about his way of doing things.

Joseph seemed to understand that readily. Perhaps the endless hours in the carpenter shop attuned him, not to the rhythm of the hammer’s pounding, but to the rhythm of the beating of the gentle heart of the God who promised to him, and to his ancestors that he would save his people from their sins.

Joseph is a model at every time of year. He is truly a man for all seasons. But in this season he offers to us a special invitation: to join him in holy silence before the mystery that is God’s plan for our salvation. There are many sounds of the season, sounds that are filled with joy and promise: the greetings of friends, the giggles of children, the haunting refrains of the carols we love. But there are also sounds that lure us from the gentle voice of God, a voice that wants to say to us when living is frantic and loving is hard the same words he spoke to the righteous and obedient and silent Joseph: “Have no fear.” In these days before the feast, when we think we cannot wrap one more package or bake one more cookie or hear “Frosty the Snowman” one more time, then we know it is time to put down the ribbon, turn off the oven and silence the radio and join our good friend Joseph, and be silent before the God who speaks his Word; the Word that Joseph will call Jesus, the Son of David, the Son of Abraham, who will save his people, who will save us, from all our sins.