Lectionary Readings: Year A, Fourth Sunday of Advent
Can you imagine the scandal that could have happened in a small town, if Joseph had made a public spectacle about this little issue with Mary? That she was pregnant before their wedding day, and that he, Joseph, was not the father?
Everyone in that town would have been wondering, “Who, then, is the real father?” And his reaction – his decision to divorce her – would have been justified in their eyes, because, after all, this young woman had gone behind his back, and been with someone other than her intended husband. Or so it seemed.
In fact, according to the law, Joseph was entirely justified in getting rid of her, and moving on with another woman. And it would have been well within his right to make it a public spectacle. In fact, not only would it have been within his right, but the other people in town would have expected it of him. They would have expected Joseph to treat Mary with contempt and afford her the shame – in their minds – that she was due.
And instead, Joseph decides that he will get rid of her – divorce her – quietly. This kindness shows the character of Joseph. He wanted to save Mary’s reputation as best as he would be able to. He could have been loud, but instead, he chose to be quiet – even though the social norms would have allowed for a loud and shameful end to their betrothal. Sometimes, the most faithful thing we can do in a situation that doesn’t go as we planned is to be quiet, rather than drawing attention to the fact that life has not gone the way we wanted it to.
And this also speaks to the reality that sometimes, when things are all fouled up – at least according to our own plans – then what it means is that God is working behind the scenes.
Joseph could have continued down the path of getting rid of Mary. He was in a real pickle, a jam. He needed a way out, and so he made up his mind to do it quietly. We are told that Joseph had finally made up his mind to get rid of Mary right before he had a dream. And in that dream God told him not to get rid of Mary, but that he should be courageous and take her as his wife – because the child she was carrying was God’s own son. “She will have a son, and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”
The name that we know as Jesus is a transliteration of the Greek Iesous, which itself comes from the Hebrew/Aramaic Yeshua, which means, “God saves.” And so, Joseph, being in a real bind, discovers that his future bride will bear a child who will save God’s people. Which, of course, includes Joseph himself.
And so, as soon as he woke up, Joseph did as the dream commanded. He took Mary as his wife, and when the child was born, he named him Jesus.
Joseph, who had every right to publicly shame Mary for being pregnant before marriage – according to the social customs of the day – decided to make sure she didn’t suffer public disgrace. He had planned to get rid of her – quietly – and then, because of a dream – a dream! – he stayed with Mary.
Society would have demanded he live up to their expectations, and “do the right thing” – the thing that they believed was the common sense choice in a situation like this. But Joseph did as God commanded. Joseph chose the more difficult path of doing what was right – and not what was expected.
Some of you may remember the “War on Drugs” that Richard Nixon started in the early 1970s. In the 80s, Ronald Reagan added significant funding to the campaign, and his wife, Nancy Reagan, the first lady, became involved in an advertising campaign called “Just Say No,” which tried to teach kids to make the right choice when social expectations became too strong. In one of these advertisements that aired on television, there is a group of kids sitting around, and some of them are doing drugs. One of those taking drugs leans over to one of those who isn’t, and says, “Why don’t you try some of this? It’s good.” And the kid says, “No, I don’t want any.” And then the first kid says, “Why not? Everybody’s doing it.” And then the second kid decides to take some after all, and the advertisement fades to black. Then you hear a commotion, people yelling, and ambulance sirens in the back. And the words come on the black screen: “All it takes is once. Just say no.”
That’s an obvious example of social expectation and pressure forcing itself upon people, what we commonly call “peer pressure,” and it is direct, and overt.
Sometimes, though, it’s a lot more subtle than that. Maybe the neighbor across the street buys a new car. And suddenly the car you’re driving seems to show its age; almost overnight it has cracks and scratches that weren’t there before. And then the neighbor down the street buys a new car, and suddenly you notice a dent in the side of your car that you haven’t thought about in over a year. And then, finally, your next door neighbor also gets a new car, and suddenly you can’t stand the fading paint on your two year old sedan, and you just know – you absolutely know – that it is time to upgrade. That’s another form of social expectation and pressure forcing itself upon us, but in a much more subtle way.
Sometimes, though, we don’t even register how things around us are shaping us, and changing us. Some of you know that I ride a motorcycle. Before I rode the motorcycle I have now, I rode a smaller, single seat bike with extra loud exhaust pipes, and I had all the appropriate leather gear. So when I read this news article, it stuck with me, since it seemed it could very well have been me. In the “Overheard” section, or a “Letter to the Editor,” I read an article by a man who was leaving a grocery store and standing by his motorcycle. There was a mother and her daughter walking by, and the little girl saw the motorcycle, was excited to see it, and wanted to look at it. But the mother pulled her away and said, “Good little girls don’t talk to dirty bikers.”
This man then wrote an article which said – and I’m paraphrasing – “You know, those words hurt. You taught your daughter that people like me are not worth talking to. I am a father of three daughters, and I would never teach my girls to assume they know someone just by how they are dressed. If you want to know, I was in the store that day, picking up medication for my wife who was sick, and bringing back dinner for those girls of mine. I’m also a son, and my own mother lives with me and my family, because after my father died, she did not have enough money to live on her own. So we provide for her. I’m happy that she lives with us, and can spend time with her granddaughters. My hobby includes motorcycles, and that day I had gotten dirty doing maintenance on the bike. But during the day I am a professor at the university. It could very well be that in a few years, your daughter is in my class, spending time with this dirty biker. I hope she’ll have learned a bit more kindness by then.”
You see, when good little children are taught what good little children do and don’t do, they begin to think that everyone is always watching them, and judging them. Mostly because they have learned how to watch people, and judge people, based on what is expected of good little boys and girls. And the question on all of their minds is less, “What should I be doing?” or “What do I want to be doing?” and instead, it revolves around, “What would people think?” “What would people think if I actually do this thing that I believe I need to do?”
These kinds of in-the-background social expectations were likely swirling around in Joseph’s head as he worked through what he was going to do after finding out that the young lady he was going to marry was already pregnant. He obviously loved Mary, because he wanted to spare her the shame that an unwed mother was likely to receive.
But Joseph also had to live up to those expectations of the people in the community, who would have expected him to get rid of Mary for what she did to him, because, after all, “What would people think?”
Sometimes, doing the right thing is stepping outside the common sense expectations, and doing the uncommon, the unexpected thing. Because God is not common, and often works in uncommon ways. After all, Joseph based all of his decisions on a dream! He defied the cultural expectations of the day, and made choices based on a dream. But a dream that had the power of God behind it.
Some of us might be going off to visit family for the holidays. We may be confronted with all sorts of social and familial expectations. Some good, some not so good. Some of us might be struggling with a big decision, or with people in our lives who are irritating our sense of calm. And we may very well be struggling with how to respond, because sometimes, what’s allowed is also what’s expected. And what’s not allowed, is not what people expect. It’s the same old question of “What would people think?”
But perhaps it’s time for us to choose the unexpected way, the uncommon way, rather than responding to these situations in ways that we have learned to respond. Maybe God is working on us, and teaching us to choose the quiet way.
Joseph did that. And through his obedience to this small and unexpected prompting in a dream, Jesus, Yeshua, was added to the lineage of David, of the Tribe of Judah, fulfilling the prophecy of the one who was to come – the Messiah.
Sometimes, God prompts us in the smallest of ways, and the way that we should go is the quiet way, the unexpected way, the uncommon way.
After all, the birth of the King of Kings didn’t come with loud fanfare, with bells and whistles, with RSVP cards and letters to all the important dignitaries. Instead, this child, this Son of God, came in the most unexpected of ways. He was born in a manger, in a small town, with his birth proclaimed to the shepherds watching their sheep at night.
Look for the uncommon way. Look for the quiet way. Look for God’s prompting in the unexpected and uncommon, and you may find in it a blessing far larger than you could have imagined.
[This sermon was delivered at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ on December 21, 2025.]
