That’s the song in my head, and it isn’t too inappropriate because Christmas is just a couple days away. Our Gospel story today even gets us right in the Christmas spirit–we’ve got angels, Mary, Joseph and even the baby–well, not quite yet, but he’s mentioned! But it’s not quite Christmas. This story is one last preparation, an opportunity to consider one last time what exactly it is we await.
To understand, we’ve got to go back to the beginning of the story, back before Mary and Joseph, back to the prophet Isaiah whom Matthew quotes. These words are so familiar–this prediction of the birth of the child. But it shouldn’t surprise you that Isaiah wasn’t thinking of the Messiah when he said these words. Actually he was thinking about foreign policy. You see, Isaiah lived in a time of political instability. He was a priest in Jerusalem, and–not to get too much into 8th Century BC history–but Isaiah was trying to advice the king. Ahaz, the king in question, ruled in Jerusalem, and it isn’t an easy job. Ahaz is caught between a rock and a hard place, or really two hard places because he is facing three invading threats: neighbors Israel and Syria, and superpower Assyria. What to do? Isaiah tells him to trust God, but that’s a little vague for a foreign policy. The king’s advisors are suggesting an alliance with one of the threatening powers. Our story today has Isaiah trying one last time to make his case. Ask for a sign, he tells the king, probably trying to offer proof of his position. Ahaz doesn’t want a sign, probably because he has made up his mind already. So Isaiah tells him what will happen next.
To our ears, Isaiah’s words sound promising: A child will be born and the threatening kingdoms will disappear while the child eats curds and honey. But does anyone want to eat curds and honey? This isn’t a promising food in any age! Curds and honey are what you eat when there’s nothing else around. These are foods that don’t need planning–no planting, no harvesting, no waiting for the harvest. Isaiah’s promised future is a bleak one. The threatening kingdoms will be gone, but the price will be high. Isaiah looks to an insecure future, a time without the security to plant and plan and grow the crops.
This bleak future is Emmanuel’s inheritance. You can imagine how the neighbors might react to the name his mother has chosen. Emmanuel–God with us–that’s what you believe when things are going well! If God is with us, then why are things such a mess? Forget that stuff–it’s all over now–everyone for himself–there’s no point in pretending we’re anything special!
But Emmanuel’s mother is the true prophet. Somehow she sees the truth of God’s presence. Not the God of wrath and judgment–that’s not who she named the child for–but the God of mercy and forgiveness, of second chances and transformation. There will be renewal. God will restore his people. There is a future. Hold fast to the vision, remember the law, remember the calling, the beauty, the purpose. For God’s people, there is always a future.
When Matthew writes the words of the prophet into his Gospel story, it is this story he is remembering, and that tells us something about Christmas and the salvation we await. No matter what you might hear, salvation isn’t some mechanical process God has created to get those who believe the right things into heaven. Salvation is God’s decision to be Emmanuel: God with us. God has chosen to be with his creation, his cowardly, frightened, confused, disobedient and beloved creation. The story was set from the beginning; Christmas is simply the affirmation we were waiting for. God is with us.
God with us in Matthew’s time–a time of foreign occupation and brutal empire.
God with us in our time–economic and political turmoil and uncertainty.
God with us in your time–whatever the stress or loss or grief.
God with us–the prophecy renewed and hope awakes. There is a future.
So what does it look like, this salvation of Christmas? To get back to our Gospel, it looks a lot like Joseph.
Now Joseph gets an angel to tell him about his future, and wouldn’t that be nice–a clear message of what to do next! But in fairness, Joseph really deserves an angel. Here he is, trying to do the right thing. Joseph–his heart is probably broken! What he knows is that his betrothed, Mary is pregnant, and all he knows is that the baby isn’t his. Matthew tells us that Joseph cares about doing the right thing, and the right thing here is to put his feelings aside–no revenge, no getting even–he’s simply going to quietly walk away. But then there’s an angel, and Joseph has a new task: To raise this baby, and walk in faith. Joseph has a new role in God’s new plan.
We don’t get angels much, but I think there are ways we can see them. Twice this week I heard the same refrain, and that’s got to mean something. I heard two stories of two very different problems. One took place in Central California, where despite an abundance of fruit and other crops, people are going hungry. The other took place in Memphis, Tennessee, where rates of cancer deaths among the poor are the highest in the nation. The causes of both problems are complex–economics, culture, history–impossible to untangle. In both cases the people involved were told that the problems were too big, nothing can be done. But to believe that is to do nothing. So in Central California, a woman started a gleaning service to pick the crops that cannot be sold to give to the poor. In Memphis a hospital took on the challenge of diagnosing and treating cancer among the poor.
Christmas is God’s way of saying something can be done. The problems are impossibly complex. So God’s solution is to be with us. Our celebration of Christmas is our affirmation: something can be done. This is our last preparation for Christmas: to recognize that God is with us and something can be done. What message, what angel are you responding to? How will you show your agreement? Something can be done, and that something begins with Christmas.