Toward Sunday, December 18, 2016

Reading:  Matthew 1:18-25

Joseph finds out Mary is pregnant.  

But not by him.  

And even though they are legally married and bound together by a contract (the "kettubah") signed by himself and Mary's father -- a legal contract of marriage that will lead to their consummating their relationship and starting to live together once Joseph finishes paying the dowry to Mary's father, and Mary is of age.  

Joseph's first thought is to get out of the mess no matter what it costs him personally.  But then a dream of an angel changes his whole way of looking at what he's facing.

Darn dreams.  Darn angels.


It looks like a full moon tonight as I write this.  Who knows what looniness will flow?

I'm frustrated and disappointed.  Who knows what darkness will be revealed?

Tonight we have my sister-in-law's dog overnight.  I would love to tell you how annoying I find him.  How unlike he is from any dog I would ever choose.  How thoroughly his presence here tests my commitment and openness to the first line of the Serenity Prayer.

And then I think of Joseph, whose story as husband to Jesus' mother is the good news for us to reflect on this week.  Joseph in almost every nativity set I've seen, standing a little removed -- but solid and loving, at a manger he would never have chosen himself.  Joseph a little in the shadow towards the back of the stable, but also really and completely there for and with people whose strange journeys he can't begin to understand.  Joseph thinking at first that the best he can do is to pay whatever price is needed just to be rid of the betrayal of his hopes, then letting angel-grace turn his living nightmare into a dream of new and true life.

And all I have to come to terms with is a dog!

So what does this say about my ability really to be open -- not just serenely accepting, but radically welcoming of others whom I find annoying or even distasteful, and who maybe are part of God's way of bringing new and true life into the world as I know it?  Others whom I would not choose to include in my community, or my church, or my heart, but whom God invites to be there?  Others who test my commitment and openness to the motley and messy kingdom of new and true life that God is patiently and persistently calling into being around me?

Don't you hate it when the good news hits you between the eyes, and invites you to look a little more deeply at yourself, a little more lovingly at your neighbour, and a whole lot more welcomingly at those who appear in your world and life-story as strangers and aliens -- very other and greatly different from you?

I do.

Darn dog.

And now...can I be honest to this reflection of the full moon, come Sunday morning?

Only one way to find out.