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Matthew 1:18-25

December 21, 2025

The Presbyterian Church of Coraopolis

Matthew 1:18–25 (NRSV)

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.

But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.

She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”

All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

“Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,

and they shall name him Emmanuel,”

which means, “God is with us.”

When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife,

but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

This is the word of the Lord, Thanks be to God.

Jospeh had a plan.

It wasn’t a particularly unusual plan.

It was a quiet faithful plan. That would bring honor to his family. And would set him up for a lifetime of contentment, maybe even happiness.

Joseph was engaged to Mary. They would marry and build a life together in Nazareth. He would work with his hands, provide for his family, live a decent, righteous life. Joseph had done what he was supposed to do. He had followed the rules. He had a plan.

And then everything changed.

An angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. Mary, your betrothed, is pregnant AND you should marry her anyway. And just like that Joseph’s plan cracked open.

And that crack matters. Because once a plan cracks open, everything rushes in- fear, confusion, grief, questions that don’t have answers yet. Joseph is suddenly standing in the space between what he thought his life was and what it is now. And there is no fast-forward button. No angel choir yet. Just a long night where he has to sit with the reality that the future he trusted is no longer intact.

This is the part of the story we tend to skip over. The waiting. The uncertainty. The moment before God explains anything. But this is often where faith actually lives- not in certainty, but in the pause between decision and understanding. Joseph doesn’t know what obedience will cost him yet. He only knows that staying faithful is suddenly much harder than it was yesterday.

It is so very tempting to rush through this part of the Christmas story because we know how it ends. We know wisemen show up. We can almost hear the angels singing as they announce the birth of the long-awaited Messiah. But before the Christmas story becomes holy, before it becomes familiar, it is devastating.

Joseph doesn’t yet know about wisemen or angels or Emmanuel. All he knows is that the future he imagined has shifted, and he didn’t ask for this change.

I imagine that many of us can relate to how Joesph feels in the moment the angel tells him the news about Mary. It’s the moment a routine doctor’s appointment turns into a SURPRISE you need to have surgery in the new year announcement. And all of the sudden, you realize the routines and structures that anchor your hectic life- things like 6:15 CrossFit Classes, a financial literacy conference in Florida, curling up in your favorite reading chair with a coffee and a book- all of those things will have to wait until you recover. And you find yourself, like Joseph, simply trying to respond to this change of events with as much grace as you can muster.

What I love about Matthew’s version of Jesus’ birth narrative is that it doesn’t turn Joseph into a villain.

Matthew calls Joseph “a righteous man.” That matters.

Because righteousness, in this story, doesn’t mean being right. Righteousness looks like restraint. It looks like refusing to make someone else’s worst moment public entertainment.

Jospeh’s first instinct is not to save himself- it’s to protect Mary. To limit the damage. To act with dignity even when his own life feels like it’s falling apart. That kind of righteousness doesn’t make headlines. It doesn’t get applause. But it is exactly the kind of faith God can work with.

Long before Joseph believes in angels or virgin births, he believes in kindness. And that, Matthew seems to suggest, is already holy ground.

What Joseph does instead  is that he makes another plan- a quieter one. He decides to dismiss Mary quietly, to protect her from public shame.

This is not the response of a weak man. It’s the response of a compassionate one.

Jospeh is trying to be faithful with the information he has. If Mary is pregnant by another man, he cannot marry her, because that would mean everything his family spent generations building would be inherited by an outsider. Joseph is doing what so many of us do when life takes an unexpected turn- he’s trying to adjust the plan in a way that hurts as few people as possible.

But God had other plans.

Just when Joseph has resolved what he’s going to do- just when he thinks he knows how the story will go- God shows up.

Not in public. Not with gold, frankincense, and myrrh. But in a dream.

An angel speaks to Joseph and calls him “son of David,”  reminding him that his life is part of a story much bigger than he realized.

“Do not be afraid,” the angel says. This child is from the Holy Spirit. You are part of something holy. And God will be with you in it.

Joseph wakes up, and the texts says, “he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him.”

No speech.

No protest.

No demand for more information.

Joseph doesn’t get a new plan, he gets a promise.

And sometimes, that’s how faith works.

Joseph had a plan.

But when that plan changed, God didn’t hand him a detailed map. God gave him a name: Emmanuel. God with us.

I think this is why Joseph matters so much in the Advent story.

He represents all of us who are trying to live faithfully while navigating lives that don’t always look the way we thought they would.

Joseph shows us that faithfulness doesn’t always look like certainty.

Sometimes it looks like staying.

Sometimes it looks like listening.

Sometimes it looks like waking up and choosing courage when the future is unclear.

On this final Sunday of Advent, many of us are standing right were Joseph stood. Between the plan we had and the life we’re actually living.

Advent is not a season for people who have it all figured out. It’s a season for people who are waiting. Who are holding unfinished stories. Who are learning to live without closure.

Joseph doesn’t get certainty- he gets presence. And that’s what Advent promises us, too. Not answers to every question. Not a guarantee that things will be easy. But the assurance that God does not abandon us when the plan changes. God meets us there. Right in the middle of the disruption.

Some of us are carrying grief we didn’t plan.

So of us are navigating changes in our families, our work, our health.

Some of us are learning- or re-learning- that control is an illusion and that trust is the real work of faith. Joseph’s story reminds me that faith doesn’t require certainty- only the courage to trust that God is with us in the waiting.

The good news of Advent is not that everything goes according to plan. The good news is that God shows up when the plan changes. God shows up in the middle of confusion. God shows up in the quiet courage of ordinary people. God shows up not as an explanation, but as a presence.

Emmanuel.

God with us.

Jospeh had a plan.

But what he received instead was something better- a front row seat to the holy mystery of God at work in the world.

And maybe that’s the invitation for us this Advent.

Not to have it all figured out.

Not to be fearless.

But to trust that when our plans shift,

God is still with us- working, waiting, and walking beside us into whatever comes next.

Amen.