"Who's your daddy? DNA, Dreams, and Discernment" Sermon for Sunday 18 December (4 Advent)

Sermon for Sunday, 18 December 2016

4^th Sunday of Advent

Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem

The Rev. Carrie Ballenger Smith

Matthew 1:18-25

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Some years ago, I took a day off work to visit the Chicago Institute of Art with a dear friend. We visited our favorite masterpieces, discovered new ones, and ate fancy salads and drank wine at the rooftop restaurant. And then, like most days off, it was over far too soon. As we exited the Contemporary and Modern Art Wing, I saw something that at first I thought might be another art installation. It was so unexpected, I wondered if it was some kind of performance art. It was a large van, parked just in front of the museum, with a message on the side that proclaimed in giant letters: “WHO’S YOUR DADDY? MOBILE DNA TESTS OFFERED HERE WHILE YOU WAIT!”

When my friend and I stopped laughing, and realized it was for real, we tried to understand why a mobile DNA testing van would be parked in front of the art museum. We tried to imagine the situation in which you absolutely, positively, immediately, HAD TO KNOW the identity of someone’s daddy.

Well, welcome to the 4^th Sunday of Advent! Today is that day! After weeks of waiting, after lighting four candles, after singing through the entire list of Advent hymns, after hearing from the prophets and praying for peace and patience, we are just hours away from celebrating the birth of the long-awaited baby Jesus. And this is exactly the moment when a mobile DNA van might be nice. After all, before we travel to Bethlehem, before we sing “Silent Night” by candlelight, and before we open gifts, we should really know the identity of this baby we’re celebrating. Is this the one we’ve been waiting for? Is this the Messiah? Is this the Son of God? What child is this, anyway?

This was certainly the question Joseph was asking when he learned Mary was pregnant. After all, they were engaged, but not yet married. They were promised to one another, but had also promised not to do anything that would result in pregnancies. As difficult as their situation can still be in some cultures today, in Joseph and Mary’s time it was a disaster. Some biblical commentaries point out that by custom, Joseph could have had Mary stoned! But Scripture tells us Joseph was a righteous man, and therefore he had decided to dismiss her quietly. He would separate from her, in front of a few witnesses, thereby protecting as much of her honor as possible.

And this could have been the end of Joseph’s involvement in the Christmas story.

But then something unusual and unexpected happened! There was no mobile DNA testing service to clear things up, but as usual, God was on the move. Just when Joseph thought he had it all figured out, and knew what he would do next, a messenger came to him in a dream and said:

“Listen, Joe…I know this isn’t what you expected. I know this is going to make people talk. But it is going to be ok. God is doing something great! The baby about to be born to Mary is named Jesus, because he will save people from their sins. And he shall be called Emmanuel, God with us.”

And when Joseph rose from this strange dream, he changed course completely. It’s not that things were much clearer than before. Saying that your fiancée is “pregnant by the Holy Spirit” is not likely to stop people from talking! But in great faith, trusting that the message from the angel was from a good and trustworthy God, Joseph took Mary as his wife, caring for her until the baby was born, and when he was born, they named him Jesus.

Now when this morning’s Gospel lesson started, “The birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way”, we may have thought the lectionary writers were tired of Advent and decided to give us the Christmas story a week early! 

But it turns out the message for this 4^th Sunday of Advent is not really about Jesus and his miraculous birth at all. It’s not about the theoretical results of this baby’s DNA test. It’s not even about the positive identification of this baby as the Messiah, the Son of God, the one foretold by the prophets, the one who shall be named Emmanuel, God with us, the one who will be with us even unto the end of the age (Matthew 28:20) (Although this is Good News indeed, Amen!)

This morning’s chapter in the story of Jesus’ birth is not about who Jesus is at all. It’s about who Joseph is! It’s not Christmas yet. The baby is not yet born. We’re still waiting! And while we wait, Matthew invites us to consider how God called Joseph the righteous to play an important part in the birth of the one we call Emmanuel—and how he followed in faith, even though it made no sense to him at the time.

Take a moment to remember now: When has God called you to do something strange and unexpected? What did the call sound like? How did you know it was a call from God, and not an idea of your own? Most importantly, why did you choose to listen—and then to follow? Joseph’s angel dream may sound crazy or even scary, but in times of discernment and struggle I think many of us would welcome an angel with such a clear message. In my experience, God doesn’t always speak out so clearly. More often, the message comes bit by bit. Or it sneaks into conversations with friends.

Or we find ourselves in a situation where the call can no longer be ignored. Poet David Whyte said, “For most of us, the call will not come so grandly, so biblically, but intimately, in the face of the one you know you have to love.”

In retrospect, God may have been speaking to me when, as a 4^th grader, I decided to sign up to volunteer at the local nursing home, and ended up receiving the “Volunteer of the Month” award at age 10. But I knew I wanted to be a doctor and makes lots of money.

God also may have been speaking when, as a college student studying piano performance, I would routinely show up to my lessons having not practiced at all. “Oh, but Habitat for Humanity had a building project this weekend, and I simply had to go and help the poor!” I would tell my teacher. She was not amused. But I knew I wanted to be a musician.

God may have been speaking when, at my spouse’s ordination to the ministry, a church member grabbed me by the arm and said, “OK, Carrie, now when will we hear you preach?” But I had no intention of preaching! I knew I wanted to be a midwife.

And then I found myself at the birth of a baby. I was the doula, there to offer support and comfort and to advocate for the mother during labor. But I was annoyed—I didn’t want to be the doula. I wanted to be the midwife. I wanted to be the one catching the baby! I had been trying, without success, to earn an internship with a local midwife to complete my studies. But every interview was a bust. Every time, the midwife would say, “We really like you, Carrie, and we know you have studied, but we just don’t feel it.”

So I found myself at this birth, there to offer support, but as I coached the mother through labor, I was all the time looking longingly at the midwife and what she was doing. I knew that was where I wanted to be.

And then, things went all wrong. The baby was born, but the mother was bleeding, and it wouldn’t stop. Everything became an emergency. The doctors were on their way, and I watched in shock as the midwife struggled to save the woman’s life.

In that moment, I knew without a doubt that I was not called to be a midwife.

I also knew, in that moment, exactly what I was called to do.

So I leaned down by the mother’s ear, and held her hand, and I prayed.

The next day (really, it was the next day) I sent an email to my home pastor in Oklahoma with the message, “Tell me how to apply to seminary.” And then I listed my childbirth books and supplies on Ebay.

Listen, I had no idea how it work out. We lived many hours from a seminary, in rural Texas. We had two small children, and no money for school. But I had faith that the God who spoke so clearly to me in that moment (and who, apparently, had been speaking my whole life) would be with me wherever the journey took me. So I took the first step.

Joseph had no idea where his decision to marry Mary would take him, either. He did know it was a risk! And he had a pretty good idea of what the community would say about him. He knew he was signing up for a marriage like no other and a parenthood like no other. But Joseph also knew something wonderful had been promised. And like Mary, who in great faith chose to sing God’s praises in the midst of a crisis pregnancy, in great faith Joseph chose to take a step in the direction God was leading. He chose to follow God—and became a small but critical part of the story of the world’s salvation.

On this fourth Sunday of Advent, as we prepare to make the last steps of the journey to Bethlehem, where the babe is about to born, we rejoice that Joseph and Mary listened to God’s call. We rejoice that God chose to come among us as a baby, the one we call “Emmanuel”, God with us.

And we rejoice that God is still speaking to the faithful. God is still doing new and wonderful things in our lives and in the world. And God is still inviting us to follow, in faith, as the Greatest Story Ever Told continues to unfold through us, God’s children.

Like Joseph, we will take the first steps in faith, for we don't need a DNA test to know the identity of the one who leads us.

The one who fulfilled the promise to be born among us,

The one whose love was poured out for us on the cross,

And the one whose power over sin and death was revealed by the empty tomb,

will also fulfill the promise to be God With Us every step of the way—even to the end of the age.

I invite you to turn to page 304 in your hymnals, so that we can read together the prayer at the very bottom of the page. Page 304...

O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.