Joseph, Character, and Surprise: A Reflection on Matthew 1.18-25
This past Sunday, the Gospel reading in the Revised Common Lectionary brought us to the story when Joseph, Jesus’ adoptive father, receives news about Mary’s miraculous pregnancy. We read this in Matthew 1.18-25:
Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet: “Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,” which means, “God is with us.” When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus. (NRSV)I found this passage surprising and challenging as I reflected on it last week. The Gospel describes Joseph as “a righteous man,” a man who follows God’s will. To give a sense of how important a designation it was, at the time of Matthew’s writing, the term “a righteous man” was often used to describe the patriarchs—Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Here is a person who is close to God, who knows God’s heart, whose character and reason were shaped by God’s teaching over time. Matthew appears to insinuate that Joseph’s plan to dismiss Mary quietly when he discovered she was pregnant with someone else’s baby was the compassionate thing to do and under normal circumstances, would have been godly. Yet despite all that formation, despite being a righteous person, Joseph was going to do something that went against God’s plan. How could that happen?
This story challenged me because I realized I held a skewed view of spiritual formation. Namely, I believed that with enough training, with enough shaping by God, we could reach a point in our lives in which we would no longer need God’s guidance—like the apprentice painter who studies and practices under her teacher for years, but eventually learns enough and develops enough that she no longer needs the teacher and can paint and create on her own. Joseph had been developed by God so much that he was recognized as “a righteous man.” One would think he could use his God-shaped reason to plot his life’s course in a way entirely in line with God’s will. We do want God to form our reasoning and characters, but I realized in reading this passage that no amount of reasoning and wisdom can take the place of prayer. I have to be reminded that maturity in the Christian life is not like how we often view maturity, in which we become self-sufficient, independent beings who do not need others for anything. The Christian understanding of maturity actually works the opposite direction. As one becomes more mature in Christ, one understands and seeks to foster a deeper need on God and community. This is not to belittle our reasoning or spiritual formation, but to acknowledge God’s vastness and our constant dependence on God’s revelation.
We could take the angle that Joseph, though being a righteous man, was still sinful and proud and his pride of being close to God clouded his vision of what God was doing. That view of the text, however, still carries with it the assumption that we can get to a point in our walk with God where we no longer need God. As if all we need is to have God help us shirk off our sinful tendencies and then we would be able to see things completely from God’s vantage point on our own. Another option is that we could despair and wonder if we could ever truly know what God wants of us in our lives. The text does not support those interpretations. Rather, the text seems to say that what God was doing in the incarnation was so big, so radical, so surprising, that even “a righteous man” like Joseph could not understand what was happening without God revealing the plan to him. Yes, the text makes it clear that there was centuries-old prophetic hope in Messiah coming, but few would imagine it would be their fiancée who would be the virgin carrying God’s anointed one. Because God was up to something so far beyond anyone’s imagination, even righteous people would be surprised. Joseph is a hero in this passage because he is righteous, he is close to God. As a person who is close to God’s heart, he understands that the God we read about in the Hebrew Bible is full of amazing surprises. To have a character shaped by God means that one would not only act compassionately and justly, but that one would also be open to surprises. If we read these verses and worry whether we could ever know God’s will, let us remember that one of the pieces of good news in a passage just dripping with gospel is that God does give revelation. Joseph can know God’s will because God makes that will known. The tasks for us are to remain open to God’s revelation, to be humble when we believe we have received that revelation, to act accordingly with the values and character God has already shaped in us, and to pray that God will continue to reveal himself to us.
My prayer is that in this last week of Advent we would be surprised by Jesus’ continual incarnation in the world and through prayer, we would receive a greater sense of our need for God and divine revelation.


I never thought about it that way before but it makes sense. Opposite maturity.
Comment by NotoriousMLE — December 20, 2010 @ 1:17 pm
I have a different view on maturity that might be more in line with the spiritual maturity you describe here. I think maturity is a coming into the fullness of ones self -one’s decisions and accountability for those, as opposed to blaming or relying on other people. As you develop your relationship/understanding with self more, you are able to make decisions more in line with your “self” and, when in error are in a better position to own and rectify those decisions. In your security of self, you are also in a better position to be more gracious and giving to others. In that sense, Christian maturity would mean a drawing nearer to God such that you understand Him more, can make decisions more in line with his heart, and when in error (hopefully!)be in a clearer and more honest place to respond, as well as show more grace and generosity. In both cases, you never really arrive, you only become more intimate with the source. I think that lines up with your description of Christian maturity as well?
I am glad you wrote about Joseph. Last Christmas I realized that Joseph was a step parent, and I saw the nativity from a whole new angle. I have been pondering his righteousness too, and how was in some ways the most able to get out of this story, and yet chose to stay. There’s some nice comforting parallel there for other step parents…not that I think Tristan will save the world.:)
I wonder if Joseph’s story, as you outline above, from right action to faithful action, is a symbolic precursor for the Jewish people, and for us? We also tend to focus first on right action (righteousness by the law), and have to be challenged to live by faith rather than justification by actions. I also think that Joseph having lived righteously set him to take a step of faith – but that’s another conversation altogether.
Comment by Juliana — December 22, 2010 @ 9:13 pm
Juliana, I think that your description of maturity is more in line with what I describe as the Christian view. (I want to be careful to not assume that I have a monopoly on what the Christian view of maturity is as I’m sure many other Christians would offer different definitions.) I like your comment that one never really arrives, but becomes more intimate. That seems like a great understanding of maturity, sanctification, or Christian perfection, to use three different terms. I would make more explicit what you say implicitly, however, given our society’s understanding of the self. Namely, I would make explicit that the true self is one that receives its identity and energy from God. The closer we are to God, the closer we are to who God intends us to be. I would make that more explicit because in our society we are understood to be more fully ourselves when we are free of all responsibilities or free of others being a part of our identity.
While I have considered Joseph being a step-parent, I never really considered what reading his story would be like for step-parents. I love that you interact with that aspect of the story. That’s the life-giving, playful kind of theology I love. Given how many step-parents and adoptive parents there are, it is great that Joseph is there as a shining example when most of the stories in our culture are full of wicked step-mothers.
Concerning the point of faith versus actions, I think that Joseph was doing the best with what he had. As I said in the post, I think that what God was doing in the incarnation was so surprising no one—not even “a righteous man”—could have figured that out without God’s revelation. Joseph wasn’t really rebuked. He remained open to God’s further revelation. That is a challenge for all people of faith because we tend to think we know what God can and cannot do or will and will not do. But just when we think we know what God is up to, he tells the world that a peasant virgin is pregnant and she’s going to give birth to the King of kings.
Comment by Tyler Watson — December 23, 2010 @ 8:15 pm