Streams of Living Water: The Holiness Stream
Holy Practices
Matthew 1:18-25
Rev. Nancy Gowler Johnson
Puyallup First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

December 10, 2006
 

He is a character on the sidelines, this Joseph fellow.  Oh, he is present in both Matthew and Luke’s birth stories of Jesus, and yet in neither one is he actually given a voice to speak. Even in Matthew’s gospel that gives us the story of an angel appearing to him in a dream, even then, Joseph is not given any words. 

In most of the great artwork through the centuries Joseph is given second billing as well.  There are countless images of Mary with an infant Jesus, and there are many works of art depicting the holy family: Mary, Joseph and Jesus.  But there are only a handful of paintings that are of Joseph or Joseph and the baby Jesus.

In Matthew’s gospel he is only mentioned once after the stories of Jesus’ birth and the family’s flight to Egypt as refugees, and it is not by name.  “Isn’t this the carpenter’s son?” folks ask when Jesus begins to shake things up a bit.  The same in Luke’s gospel story, although at least the questioners mention Joseph by name.  In the gospel of John we have no stories of Jesus’ birth, but Joseph does get mentioned twice.  In addition, to the people’s questioning of Jesus and his teachings, “Isn’t this Jesus, son of Joseph? Philip in describing Jesus to Nathanial says that Jesus is the son of Joseph.  And that’s it.  He is not mentioned in Mark’s gospel at all, even though it is the earliest one of our gospels to have been written. 

Poor Joseph.  Always shoved to the side in any family portrait.  He doesn’t even get to play second fiddle—he’s 3^rd or 4^th chair at best.  Joseph is the strong, silent one of the story.  In Matthew, Joseph was engaged to a young girl named Mary.  No more details are given.  Was he young too, like her?  Or old, as later tradition would tell?  Did he have a choice in the marriage, or was it an arranged one, as many marriages in that time were? 

An angel speaks to Joseph in a dream, “Joseph, son of David, don’t be afraid.  Your fiancée is going to have a baby through the power of the Holy Spirit, and you are to take the child as your very own, and name him Jesus.  In Luke’s story, Mary gets to argue a bit with the angel, and even gets to sing what will become known as the Magnificat.  But in Matthew Joseph gets no chance to interrogate the angel, let along sing a show-stopping tune.  He simply wakes up and does what the angel has told him to do.

Today we are considering the Holiness stream as one of the six great traditions of Christian spirituality.  We don’t talk much about holiness these days.  If last week’s theme of contemplative spirituality seemed out of step with much of our lives, the holiness tradition seems downright alien. 

Holiness sounds so restrictive.  One can begin to see a long, long, long list of things not to do in order to be holy.  It starts with the Ten Commandments and just keeps going.  Being holy would put a serious cramp in our style, wouldn’t it?  And, come to think of it, being holy would surely conflict with our nation’s state priorities of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.  Holiness is just not high on the list of attributes that we strive for nowadays.  We’re a nation addicted to self-help therapies—we’re looking for happiness, well-being, balance, contentment.  But virtue and holiness?

Add to all of that, our dislike of those who strut about with a holier-than-thou attitude, and the holiness tradition just isn’t all that attractive to our twenty-first century lives.  So often the idea of holiness carries with it an impression of arrogance and judgmentalness.  Those who follow that long list of trivial rules are viewed as looking down at those who don’t. 

For many of us, holiness falls far from the top of our list of personal priorities.  No matter that both the Old Testament and even Jesus in the New Testament assert that we are to be holy, because God is holy. No, for us, not only does holiness seem out of reach, but it doesn’t seem all that appealing, does it?  Holiness seems arcane, out of touch, and a bit full of itself.

Perhaps that has to do with some of our misconceptions about holiness and virtue.  For the ancient Greeks the word virtue had the meaning of functioning well.  You can think of virtue as certain good habits a person develops that enable their lives to work.  And on the flip side of that a vice is a habit that without a doubt will not make our lives work well.  In some sense one could say that a holy life is a simply a life that works well.

Holiness is not, let me repeat, is not a strict allegiance to rules and regulations.  The word holy does not mandate any particular list of behaviors.  Richard Foster writes, “Holiness is sustained attention to the heart, the source of all action.”  You see, holiness has a lot more to do with where your heart is than any outward actions.  As we open ourselves more fully to the presence of God’s transforming love and grace—we are changed.  The goodness and holiness of God is reflected more and more in our hearts and as a consequence in our lives.[i]

Holiness is world-affirming.  Holy lives are not lived in some distant retreat, far away from the hustle and bustle of the world.  The holy life happens right in the thick of things—in the midst of everyday life.  In many ways the holy life flows out of the contemplative one for they both see the sacred in everything around them. 

In Matthew’s gospel Joseph is referred to as a righteous man.  A righteous man.  Not a successful carpenter or a star player for the Nazareth High football team, but as a righteous man, a morally upright, or virtuous man.  Confronted with what must have been a most disagreeable situation, his wife-to-be is pregnant; he looks for the most appropriate decision.  He could have shamed her publicly, accused her of infidelity in front of everyone.  That would protect his honor and integrity in the community.  His first thought, however, was quietly to dissolve the engagement.  Perhaps the man responsible for the pregnancy would then come forward.  Or Mary’s family could work out some other arrangement.

And then Joseph has the most amazing dream—not a dream as much as a revelation from God.  And rather than dismiss the dream as nonsense, Joseph takes the word from God to heart.  He changes course, no longer looking for the least disruptive way of action.  Joseph, Matthew tells us, was a righteous man, a holy man, and he looks again at his situation.  He re-evaluates his own concept of righteousness.  Of course, he had every right to divorce Mary.  The law was clear. 

Instead Joseph listened to the revelation of God, and as a result his understanding of righteousness was transformed.  Frederick Dale Bruner puts it this way, “from the instant that Jesus appeared on the world scene, even at his conception, he caused righteous people to rethink what was righteous.”[ii]  Joseph is open to the leading of God and he gains a new understanding that flows from the ongoing relationship he has with God.

Joseph is the most ordinary of persons, isn’t he?  A working man, surely.  But by no means overly successful—or the texts would sure have mentioned that.  He’s not a trained religious man; not a rabbi or a reverend.  Just an ordinary man, who strives to live a good life, a right life, a holy life.

And it is to this ordinary man, that God gives the most extraordinary task: to be a parent to the child Jesus.  To be a dad and raise up a child who would become a great teacher, leader, a savior.  Parenthood is one of the most humbling experiences one may have—holding a tiny life in your hands, the responsibility weighs heavy.  I remember the first time Greg and I gave Benjamin a bath—we were both so afraid that we were going to break him—little babies so slippery and wiggly!   All the choices parents must make along the way… it is a monumental task.

Joseph doesn’t have a long resume, but he does have the most important thing, a heart open to God.  At its core holiness is about just that, the heart being open to God—and that’s Joseph, through and through.  God speaks, Joseph listens, and follows.  Follows into a great unknown—the angel of the Lord says, “Do not fear,” I suspect not so much about the dream as about the turn in life that Joseph is about to encounter.  God asks him to step out in trust—risking the comfortable for God’s future.

What he is about to do is not the reasonable thing to do, nor the convenient thing to do, and certainly not the most comfortable.   But it’s the right thing.  In spite of the risk, Joseph acts out of trust in the relationship that he has with God.

You see, Joseph doesn’t need to speak one single word in the gospels, because his actions reveal his heart.  And where your heart is, where your heart is, is at the center of the holiness tradition. 

Joseph is not on center stage. And yet, I wonder about the impact of his relationship with Jesus—his gift of love to Mary, his commitment and strength for the family forced to leave their home as refugees.  For much later, when Jesus is grown up, as he looks for a way to explain his relationship with God, he uses the word Abba.  Abba—not the proper word, Father, but the intimate child’s word, Papa or Daddy.  Could it have been that loving, compassionate relationship of a father to his son that opens up an avenue of intimacy with God as well?

The holiness tradition calls us to find our heart’s true home, a place in relationship with the God who comes to us in the presence of Jesus, Emmanuel, God with Us.