Scripture References: Matthew 1: 16-25

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I'm just a simple craftsman. My hands tell you that I work with wood and tools. You can look at them and see a history of the work I've done. It seems there's always some kind of scar or cut. I can usually look at a man's hands and read his work. Fishermen have different hands than farmers.

I am a carpenter. It's honest, hard work. I come from the house and family of David, you know. My name, Joseph, comes from the patriarch doubly blessed, who guaranteed the success of God's work in his generation. As important as all that sounds, it's no good trying to maintain any pretense. Nazareth of Galilee, my hometown, is, well, you might say we are country people. In Jerusalem they have a great deal of fun with the accent of our speech. We're just simple folk, kind of removed from the big centers of power and importance. But that doesn't mean we can't live honest and honorable lives.

Honest and honorable--that's a lie. So where do I get off marrying a girl that was pregnant? Yes, she was pregnant before I married her. It was an arranged marriage by our families. It seems like I always knew from my youngest days that the first son of Jacob would marry the first daughter of Eli. But the way things happened, the first son of Jacob (that's me), I came along quite a few years before the first daughter of Eli did. I watched her grow up. My friends were all married and had children, while she was still just a little girl. She never did seem like much more than a girl to me. Oh, I took some teasing from my friends about getting gray hairs before getting a wife. I can take some kidding.

We were formally betrothed. The way we do things, the betrothal is a full legal ceremony. At the betrothal we are pledged to each other for life and we may be called husband and wife, although we remain apart until the actual wedding some time later. A betrothal is serious and binding and it cannot be broken without an official divorcement. Our people like it that way. It sure is different than the way they do things in the countries around us, where they do not know God. It seems they don't even take marriage to be serious and binding. But then after the betrothal, Mary went away for a few months before the marriage, a trip to her cousins in the hill country. I did look forward to seeing her again, but when she came back it was all too obvious she was pregnant. She was showing.

Honest and honorable. What do you do? That's not the kind of man I am! I couldn't believe it of Mary either, but there it was. I couldn't marry her. A fellow marries a pregnant girl? What do you think? I had two choices. I had the right to take her to court before the elders and prove that without my involvement she was found to be pregnant. A lawsuit like that would officially clear my name, but it certainly would be hard on Mary. She would be liable to the full punishment of the law, and Moses commanded that an unfaithful wife should be stoned. The rabbis had provided many exceptions and modifications to that command, so I knew Mary would probably not be stoned. But I didn't want to take her to court. So my other choice was to give her a simple bill of divorcement. I could do this privately without getting into all the legal affairs of court. It would not clear my own name officially, but practically it would have much the same effect. Everyone would know and it would be easier on Mary and her family. That was good. So it seemed like the more reasonable choice.

I am the voice of reason. I just about had my mind made up when I had a dream. I did. God's angel told me to marry her anyway. I mean, it's bad enough when the whole city is whispering about this pregnant girl, but then for me to accept the public conclusion about the father of the baby! It didn't make sense. But the angel called me "son of David." He told me not to be afraid to take Mary as my wife. He said that the baby growing inside Mary was from the Holy Spirit. He told me that we should name this son Jesus, which means "God saves," because He would save His people from their sins.

I guess you might say I had some new facts to consider. As the son of David in the legal line of his throne, whenever God might choose to renew it, I had a responsibility larger than my own personal concerns. If God by His Spirit had put this baby into Mary's womb, then I should agree if He wanted to appoint me to be Mary's husband and the man of that household.

How can you argue with the plan of God? You can cut a long piece of wood shorter, but you can't cut a short piece longer. It doesn't make sense. God had given me a new piece of wood. I had to change my thinking. I did not cancel the wedding. I let the villagers talk. One of the hardest things I ever did.

Well, then we went to Bethlehem for the Roman census. The son was born there. Shepherds came that night to see him. They said angels had visited them out in the field and sang praises to God for our son's birth. Imagine! The next week we took the boy into Jerusalem into the temple. Then it seemed like a good idea just to stay there in Bethlehem. Not so many whispering neighbors. A cousin got me work in the shop of a friend. We might just have stayed in Bethlehem, but then these Magi came, men from the East looking for the King of the Jews. They bowed to him on the dirt floor of our little house. I don't understand it all, but somehow their dealings with Herod put us in danger.

I had another dream. This time the angel said to pick up and go for Egypt, leaving Herod to dodge. So we moved again. I didn't much like Egypt. We found a synagogue and lived in a Jewish neighborhood, but I really started to miss Galilee. Herod finally died, so we figured to go back. But Archelaus was the next Roman puppet king, and I didn't want to be in his way. So we took the boy and went back to Galilee, Nazareth. Maybe the neighbors would be tired of whispering.

We made our life in Nazareth. I held his hands and trained them to a carpenter's work. After all, David had been a simple shepherd. This boy could begin as a carpenter. But what then? The other children came along, some with good, strong hands able to get everything a piece of wood had to offer. But not Him. His hands were not made for carpenter's work. He had other business--business angels sang about, business that brought Magi from the East, business that scares the tin-crowned kings of this world. I didn't get to see how it turned out. I wasn't there. But I can usually look at a man's hands and read his work. Show me his hands, and I'll tell you his work.