Father Gary’s Sermon
The Fourth
Sunday of Advent
Inspired from
Matthew 1:18-25
Proclaimed on
December 19, 2004
Matthew, who was three and
half years old, sat in his car seat in the back of the car. He was eating an
apple. Suddenly he noticed that part of his apple was turning brown. Concerned,
he asked his father (who was driving), why his apple was turning to a different
color. His father, looking into the rearview mirror, responded, “Because after you ate the skin off, the meat of the apple
came into contact with the air which caused it to oxidize thus changing its
molecular structure and turning it into a different color.” Matthew
sat quietly for what seemed a very long time. Finally, he asked, “Daddy, are you talking to me?”
A variant of this same scene could have come in our Gospel reading this morning. The focus of this story is on Joseph, who is described as being a “just” man. He was betrothed to Mary. In this time and in this time, a betrothal was similar to our engagement period—only more formal. Indeed, it was a relationship that was formalized much like we do our marriages. Therefore, it could only be ended with a writ of divorce. This was the situation that Joseph found himself in. He had discovered that Mary was pregnant. He was not the father. By rights he could have gone to the authorities and had Mary stoned to death. He also could have divorced her very publicly, leaving her stigmatized, facing a life of prostitution in order to support herself and her illegitimate child. However, this was not Joseph’s style. He instead made the decision to put her away quietly so that she could remain in her parents’ home. However, an angel visited him in a dream telling him that the child Mary bore was not of another man, but of the Holy Spirit. He was then encouraged to marry his betrothed and raise the child.
It is tempting to say that
had I been in Joseph’s shoes I would have been like little Matthew responding
to his father after hearing something that was totally beyond his
understanding. I would had said, “Lord, are you
talking to me?!” Joseph was
a better man than that, however. He obeyed the angel’s words. He married Mary
and gave her unborn son a name. Jesus would be counted as a son of David. He
gave them a home for security, comfort, and protection. He raised the child in
a religious home in which prayers and the Scriptures were taught and the
liturgy of their forbearers was strictly observed. Jesus was also raised to
become a carpenter. Therefore, Joseph gave him a useful vocation. Most of all,
however, Joseph gave to Jesus a very positive image of a father, which
surely influenced his experience of God. In essence, though we know very little
about this man Joseph, we find him to be very much like God. Though he says
little, he is a powerful person of action whose strong presence is always in
the background.
As a quiet man, however,
Joseph is a difficult person to appreciate. A painting by Giovanni Battista
Gaulli in Rome during the 1600’s demonstrates this point. The painting is
entitled “St. Joseph and the Infant Christ.” X-rays reveal that Gaulli actually
painted his picture twice. In one Joseph is observed holding the child out as
though he is a proud father bragging about his son. The other picture is
painted over it, however. In this one Joseph is seen holding the child close to
him, while gazing deeply into Jesus’ eyes. It is as though he is trying to
fathom this mystery in his arms; trying to make some sort of intimate
connection with his Lord.
Today, on this the fourth
Sunday of Advent, Joseph is presented as our example. Like Joseph, God has
announced to us the miraculous presence of Christ. The question this poses for
each of us is how then shall we respond? Will we, like Matthew trying to
comprehend the incomprehensible words of his father, say, “Lord, are you talking to me?!” Or, will we like
Joseph, suspend our rational mode in order to cherish the mystery? Like Joseph,
can we make a home for this Christ within? Will we nurture and protect him?
Strive to develop the faith within by praying, studying the Scriptures, and
participating in the liturgy of the Church. Will we accept the new vocation
that comes with this Christ, that of building the Kingdom of God? Can we allow
ourselves to be a good example for others? Like the Gaulli’s picture, can we
hold the Christ close to our hearts and look deeply into the eyes of the Christ
in order to experience his mystery more fully? This is our calling. More than
that, it is our choice. How then shall we respond?