Matthew 1:18-19

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.

A word about first-century Jewish marriage may help clarify these verses. Various texts render the key words of this passage differently. The NRSV (which we have been following) describes Mary and Joseph as “engaged.” The NIV describes them as “pledged” to be married, while the KJV says Joseph was “espoused” to Mary. No matter how you render it, however, it’s important to note that the bond between Mary and Joseph at this time was contractual, not merely social, as would be the case when talking about “engagement” in our day. That is, espousal/betrothal/engagement constituted the legal contract and pledge of marriage. What we call the wedding was the time when the bride and groom were accompanied by friends and feasting to celebrate the occasion of actually joining their households. So, to put it most simply, what we call engagement was more like their marriage, and what we call the wedding was the time when they actually moved in with each other.

For all intents and purposes, then, Mary and Joseph were married but had not yet moved in with each other or consummated their union. Hence the great distress of finding that Mary was already pregnant. It could, as far as Joseph was concerned, mean only one thing: that his espoused wife had been unfaithful. When Matthew describes Joseph as “righteous,” I believe it less a statement about his character than it describes that Joseph is  one who lives according to the law and, for this reason, wants out of this unfaithful union. In this regard, he had two options – a) public sentencing to stoning to death or b) ending their marriage contract by divorce (what Matthew describes as “dismissing her”). He opts for the latter course, not wishing, as Matthew describes, to expose her to public disgrace and, presumably, punishment.

Some contend that the jury should still be out on whether Joseph actually was a righteous man, as they believe he should have explored other options, that he did not need to dismiss her, and that such an action would have condemned Mary to poverty, if not death. I don’t know enough about first century customs and possibilities to offer a helpful opinion. But for just a moment, I’d invite us to suspend the question and tarry, instead, just long enough to imagine the distress that would have consumed Joseph (and Mary if he made his intentions known to her). We’re accustomed to thinking about the beauty and wonder of the birth of Jesus, and that’s appropriate. But let’s not forget the upset, sense of betrayal, disappointment, and a host of other emotions that Joseph must have experienced, or the fear and hurt that Mary would likely have also felt as they sorted out their divinely complex relationship.

Why might that be helpful? Because Mary and Joseph aren’t merely characters from a stained-glass window but flesh and blood people. And the more we can imagine them as people like us – with ups and downs to their relationships, for instance – the more we might imagine ourselves to be people like them – that is, people who go through all kinds of things, some quite damaging, and yet whom God uses nevertheless to accomplish God’s purposes.

Prayer: Dear God, you chose Mary and Joseph to be the parents to your Son, and you choose us to bear words of mercy and grace to all of your children. Empower and equip us to do just that. In Jesus’ name, Amen.