Change My Heart, O God

Matthew 1:18-25

It is a story that we have all heard before and one we will hear again.  The ache is so familiar, the hurt of our best laid plans unraveling and unfolding, but when a heart is willing, God is ready.  He is just a teenager and his life is focused on all of the things that fill the mind of a guy in his teens.  He moves with the kind of energy that cannot be contained, he is full of that resistant spirit, full of that spice that makes him the talk of his corner of town.   He is a hard worker when he has to be; but what he loves the most is spending time with his guys.  They all take turns to see which of them can possibly lift the biggest rock on the hill behind the shop and on a good day they try to see who can throw the farthest while they each share stories of the girls they love.  He has a special girl but finds it difficult to truly understand her.  She always seems to want to talk.  Not just to sit and chat but to have these conversations that are aimed at “figuring things out.” He doesn’t have much time or patience for these “talks.”  She always wants to check in about where they are as a couple and she never seems quite satisfied with his response.  She wants clarity and asks things like, “Where are we going?”  “What is our future together?” He loves her, well at least he thinks he does, but he isn’t ready to commit totally.  He has big plans.  He wants to explore and save up enough money to travel over the mountain.  He wants to see what’s out there.  He has already proposed to her because he thought it was what he was supposed to do, but they haven’t yet set a date. 

But then he got word today from his cousin who worked with her father that she wanted to see him right away.  It seemed to be a bit urgent and his cousin didn’t tell him anymore- just that she needed to see him. He finished up his work and found his way up her dusty winding road, passing the market and the place where the local boys hang out in a big pack.  He passed her aunt out on the street beating her mat, he nodded to her, but she quickly looked the other way.  Her part of the village was really that, her part, her immediate family and her cousins, first cousins, second cousins.  He walked faster as more and of her family popped their heads out to see who was coming and then quickly looked the other way.   He wondered what was going on.  It seemed they knew he would be coming.  His heart raced faster as he rounded the corner to her place, well her father’s place.  She was waiting in the front, with tears streaming down her face.  “I got here as fast as I could,” he said.  “Come in” she whispered.  He didn’t say anything.  He waited for her.  “Joseph,” she said, “I’m pregnant.”  He sat there with a blank look on his face.  She was used to that look, but today was not the day.  She couldn’t handle it today.  Her tone became angry and impatient, “Joseph, did you hear me?  I am going to have a baby!”  He shook his head as if to wake himself up.  He moved to the center of the room and splashed some water from the basin onto his face.  “How do you know?”  “I just know.”  He began to pace with fury in the tiny front room of her family’s house carved into the side of the mountain.  “How could this be?  How could this happen?  What will people say?  I can’t let my family’s name be ruined Mary, I won’t let my family’s reputation be smeared by you, by this.”  “But Joseph, it’s not like that.”  “What do you mean it’s not like that?  You know how this world works.  If things don’t happen exactly according to custom, then it’s over.  It’s over for you Mary, who will want you now?  Who will want a woman who is pregnant before betrothal?”  “Joseph please this is something special, I just know it.  Trust me.”  “Mary I have known you my whole life.  We grew up together, our families are so close.  How could you do this to me?”  There was a long pause, a long silence, heavy with the burden of the unknown.  “Joseph, listen to me, this is not about you…  This is about God.”  He couldn’t hear her words, he couldn’t take them in.  Heat was rising from within him and with that Joseph left.  He ran down her road and around the corner, he ran up to the end where he could catch his breath.  He ran out into the rolling hills.  He ran and ran until he stood overlooking the Sea of Galilee.  The wind blew over him and swirled all around him.  He wanted to be alone in the place that he knew would be there and be there in just the way he needed.  He sat in silence and waited for the tears to come and they did.  He cried for the betrayal that he felt.  He cried for the life he thought he would have that was now falling through his hands.  He cried for the way that people would whisper about him, for the way that they would call him a fool and a joke for believing in a girl who would do that to him. He was a righteous man and he was angry, but he was mostly sad, grieving the loss of a life he thought was his.  But he loved her too much to reveal the truth to the village, he knew what was in store for her, if he exposed her publicly; so he planned to dismiss her quietly.  And he sat there preparing his soul for what was to come.  And after a few hours had passed on the mountain, he got up and walked the long and winding trail home.  He found his way to his mat and closed his eyes on his small corner of a dark world that would now be without Mary.

It is a story that we have all heard before and one we will hear again.  The ache is so familiar, the hurt of our best laid plans unraveling and unfolding, but when a heart is willing, God is ready.  Joseph felt deeply this kind of pain that is so familiar, it is that throbbing of life, it is the pounding of our plans that rolling out in ways that make us scream and cry to our God, “Why?!”  It is the hurt of the unfurling of our own crafted universe, the wound that comes with life’s surprises that sting.  This is the pain that rocked Joseph’s world.  I imagine like those nights that our hearts were aching, Joseph cried himself to sleep.  He cried and let the hope that was in him, pour forth. 

But the thing about this story is that it is our story, it is the narrative of a life blooming toward God and so tears are not the end.  This not alone with no hope is not the last part.  Because the story of our God is one whose end is written with beginnings and the story blooms with colors brighter than we could ever imagine, the tears are never the end; the pain is not the last word, the ache is not the final place our heart resides.  The wound that overcame Joseph was perhaps the very thing that extended an invitation to God.  God does not cause the pains that surround us, or cause the clouds to loom but God will find a crack, an opening- God will find even the tiniest space within us to forge new plans.  And that’s just what happened with Joseph, it must have.  Because I don’t know about you, but in my experience, it is impossible to force people to change.  God is the only one who can turn and transform and change the fragile human heart.  The scripture says that Joseph had already made his decision, but God must have seen an opening because an angel appeared to Joseph.  An angel appeared to Joseph that night because of a small space of possibility.  An angel appeared in his dreams that night and whispered to him, “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.” 

The Christian tradition celebrates the miracle of the angel appearing, but I think the true miracle is that Joseph let God change him.  The miracle, it seems to me, is that God changed his heart and that Joseph changed his mind.  The miracle is that in circumstances wildly unplanned and on occasions in which our life can never be the same, God has something truly spectacular in mind.  Joseph lost the life he had imagined, but because he was open, God changed his heart to see the new possibilities that God had just for him.  Beloved of God, I believe that the miracle of our advent journey that begins today is just as much about angels and stars and a long awaited savior as changed hearts.  The miracle is that God that our God, can change our hearts to beat more like God’s.  It is a story that we have all heard before and one we will hear again.  The ache is so familiar, the hurt of our best laid plans unraveling and unfolding, but when a heart is willing, God is ready.  Change our hearts God, may we be more like you.  Amen.