The Saints Who Made Christmas: Joseph

How is this even possible? Joseph thought as he sat on the dusty earth. His deep, chestnut-colored eyes would not leave the gentle figure of his infant god. His strong, carpenter arms seemed to have weakened to oblivion when Mary had carefully laid the child there. Perhaps he had expected a strange force to pulse through him, but instead there was only a weight of seven or so pounds. Or maybe he had assumed a fanfare of trumpets would sound at any second, but the only sound that met his ears were the soft coos of the baby before…silence. Could this really be the G’D of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, he thought, so unreservedly exposed to the elements He had fashioned with His own hands?

Joseph chuckled to himself as he realized that the only extraordinary thing about the birth was the arrival of filthy shepherds, completely ecstatic, begging to get their hands on the Messiah in between proclamations of a miraculous visitation by a host of angels. Joseph had been skeptical and defensive, wanting to protect both his wife and his LORD from the sullied hands of strangers, but he soon realized his efforts were in vain as his travel-weary wife trustingly passed off the Son of G’D to the wild men. His eyes still darted alertly to the euphoric herdsmen until he felt a hand grab his gently. He looked down at his wife, who was beaming. 

“Do not worry, Joseph,” she whispered. “G’D has a plan.”

G’D has a plan, Joseph thought. For an instant, he wondered if G’D really did have a plan. His Son was born in a dirty stable, turned away from every inn, tavern, and private home they went to. Before His birth, His earthly mother had been an outcast in her town, scorned for something they could not comprehend with their human minds. The only guests at His birth arrived late, and they were smeared with dirt and hysterical. He had been wrapped in a single layer of linen and before Joseph had grabbed Him, he had been lying in a manger atop a layer or two of thrice-used hay. How on earth could the arrival of their long-awaited Messiah come under these circumstances? Joseph wondered. How does it even make sense?

Joseph pondered the events for the next hour - the message from the angel, the long journey to Bethlehem, how they were turned away at every inn, the arrival of the shepherds, and now, this ever-so-ordinary silence…could this really be the plan of G’D?

Out of the blue, a thought jumped into Joseph’s head. Maybe it’s not supposed to make sense.

Joseph looked back into the eyes of his king, suddenly understanding how he did not understand. Understanding that his incomprehensiveness was okay. Not understanding the purpose, but knowing whatever the plan for the Messiah was, it would be beyond Joseph’s feeble human imagining. 

Joseph looked up through the cave’s opening as the child drifted back to sleep, his eyes settling upon the glittering stars, formed thousands of years ago by the tiny hands currently curled around Joseph’s fingers. 

My G’D, Joseph prayed, how beautiful I know Your plans to be. Give me the wisdom to protect this little child, Whom I know will deliver us. Help me to believe in Your plans, even when I do not understand.

Joseph’s eyes returned to his Messiah, peacefully asleep in his arms. It did not seem right, but it was. The plan of G’D was going to be manifested through His Son, a man…and Joseph couldn’t wait to see what happened next.