December 19, 2010: Advent IV

 

Advent IV (a)
Mt 1.18-25
19 December 2010
Fr. Patrick S. Allen

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Some years ago a gentleman of my acquaintance, a South Carolinian of South Carolinians, of the tribe of Huguenots, born in the county of Calhoun, and, as you might expect, proud of his family history, began doing some genealogical research on the internet.   One Sunday when a goodly number of the extended family were gathered for dinner he proudly announced that in the course of his researches he had discovered that they were descended from Charlemagne, first Holy Roman Emperor, crowned by Pope Leo III twelve hundred years ago this coming Saturday, Christmas Day.

And I have to tell you, I don't think my friend was entirely surprised to discover that such noble and royal blood should flow in his veins. 

But my friend was disappointed and a little embarrassed to be informed by one of his younger cousins that, it turns out, pretty much every American of western European descent, from Paris Hilton to Barak Obama to – for all I know – me, can claim descent from Charlemagne.  Twelve hundred years is a very long time in genealogical terms, and so it's not particularly special to be descended from some king dead a thousand years.

And yet, we have heard in the Gospel this morning:  Joseph, thou son of David, fear not...

The angel of the Lord speaks to Joseph, calls him to a fearsome task, and addresses him as son of David – as in, "Joseph thou son of a thousand years dead king." 

Now, St. Matthew has been at some pains in the first part of this first chapter of his Gospel to demonstrate Joseph's Davidic lineage, he even provides a genealogy, and thus establishes the legal lineage of Joseph's adopted Son, the child of Mary. 

And we know why.  He is demonstrating the Messianic credentials of Jesus Christ.  He is presenting to us the Messiah, whose birth took place in this way as the fulfillment God's promise to his covenant people Israel, that he would make of David "a great house", and his "throne shall be established forever" (2 Sam 7.4-17).  This will be the true King of Israel, "great David's greater Son," as we have just sung together, the "heir of David's line whom David Lord didst call" as another hymn has it. 

It is of overwhelming importance for understanding the mission and ministry and meaning of Jesus, this child conceived of the Holy Spirit in the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary, that he is the long hoped for Davidic King, and that he is the Savior of the world precisely as the Messiah of Israel. 

That would make for a great sermon, a long one too, and like you I very much look forward to one day hearing Fr. Sanderson preach it!

But this morning I want to look into a smaller question:  Why does the angel address Joseph, this impoverished carpenter, as son of David?  It's true, of course, as we have seen.  But why would any one, including Joseph, care?  There's no reason to believe he set any store by it.  It certainly brought no material advantage, no social advantage.  Joseph was dirt poor and made what living he could by the sweat of his brow.  And Justas lots of us may claim descent from Charlemagne, plenty of Joseph's neighbors could claim Davidic descent, including (as we learn in St. Luke's Gospel), the young woman to whom Joseph was betrothed. 

And yet:  Joseph, thou son of David, fear not...

Why?  Well, perhaps the angel is moving Joseph toward emulation, telling him that the time had come to enact in his own life the virtues displayed by David. 

We might begin with the fear – or rather the conquering of fear.  Certainly courage, born of confidence in the Lord, was one of David's great virtues.   As a mere stripling boy he cried out across the field to Goliath that the battle was the Lord's, and that the Lord had already delivered the giant into David's hands.  "And David ran toward the army to meet the Philistine. And ... put his hand in his bag, and took thence a stone, and slang it, and smote the Philistine in his forehead, so that the stone sunk into his forehead; and he fell upon his face to the earth" (1 Sam 17.48,49).

Joseph, thou son of David.  Certainly Joseph would need Davidic courage.

And we might recall that David as King led the people of Israel in the worship of God, gave them psalms to sing and pray – we've sung one of them this morning – and that he danced in procession before the Ark of the Covenant.  "So David, and the elders of Israel, and the captains over thousands, went to bring up the ark of the covenant of the LORD ... with joy" (2 Sam 6.1-5).  And David dreamed of building a house for the Lord's Presence, a house of prayer, the great Temple his son Solomon would complete.

Joseph, thou son of David.  Certainly Joseph would need Davidic faith and devotion.

Emulation is important – very important.  The Church presents the saints to us in part so that, encouraged by their examples, we may begin to emulate their virtues.  But to see the saints only as example is to miss their point, so to speak.  Because the saints point us to Christ.  We see God through them, as we see sunlight through a stained glass window.

Joseph, thou son of David, the angel said.  It may be that what Joseph needs, and what the angel gives, at this juncture – at this terrible, parlous moment of God's call to faithfulness – is not so much, or not merely, an example to be emulated, as a vision of God's grace – a grace that sustains, that transforms and empowers, that conquers over and often through human weakness and failing.  

Joseph was an impoverished carpenter, a nobody, yet called to be the most chaste spouse and protector of Mary and the child she has conceived, the Son of God.  Which meant, among other things, fleeing his home with them, becoming a refugee, enduring the scorn and innuendo of neighbors who flung the mud of gossip at his Immaculate Bride.  David was a shepherd boy, the last and smallest of his father's sons, a nobody, yet called to be king of Israel, to fight battles and lead a nation – a boy called to be king of Israel and the recipient of the great promise of God's faithfulness.  So by the prophet Nathan, God said to David: 

Thus says the LORD of hosts, "I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep, that you should be prince over my people Israel...  I will make for you a great name, like the name of the great ones of the earth. And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, so that they may dwell in their own place and be disturbed no more. And violent men shall afflict them no more...  And I will give you rest from all your enemies" (2 Sam 7.8-10).

The grace that will sustain Joseph comes as a reminder of who he is:  son of David, and heir of a promise made by God who, as Mary would teach Joseph and us to sing, "hath put down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble and meek" (Lk 1.46-55).

And what of us, in the midst of our own calls to faithfulness and trust in the small, daily matters of family and neighbor and work, and in the great crises of our lives when obedience requires us to bow before God's mysterious providence?  Much like Joseph, God's grace comes to us a reminder of who we are – "heirs according to the promise," whom God so loved that he gave himself in Christ to become one of us, born of Mary, sheltered and nurtured by Joseph, poor and vulnerable – even Emmanuel, God with us.

That is the great mystery of God's love Advent prepares us to receive, and it tells us who we are, and so strengthens us to answer God's call, and to fear not.

"O come, thou Key of David, come!"

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