Can you imagine it? Can you imagine what it must have looked like? Can you imagine the sheer pain that must have exploded in his chest? Who could bear to look at him, even if only in the mind's eye- he must have looked absolutely stunned when she told him the news.

And slowly, a sea of emotion washed over his face- disbelief, pain, anger, and worst of all, a fool.

Surely, this must have been the last thing to have crossed his mind that would happen to him, that his betrothed, his wife to be, would already become pregnant, and not by him.

He had to have felt like the biggest fool, to be duped by this teenager. But he loved her so - loves her so! Confusion reigns within him.

Who could he talk to about it? Anybody? How could he not? What thoughts crossed his mind? What did he say to her? Surely there was no sleep that first night; who could sleep after news like that? I couldn't.

We know so little; the text is so spare. Our questions ultimately go unanswered. But we do know what he was thinking. And we do know that he was a just man, a righteous man, this Joseph of Bethlehem, living in Nazareth.

We do know that he figured out what he would do; he would spare her shame and public humiliation. He would call it off, quietly, reluctantly, and go back to his work as an apprenticed carpenter. He loved her too much to disgrace her; he hoped that he could start over elsewhere, start a new life in a new town that needed his skills.

Since the child was not his, he had nothing to miss there - except her. He would miss her desperately, his lovely Mary. But obviously, this was not to be. The unexpected has happened to him; certainly not the first time this has ever happened to a guy, but one wouldn't wish this on anybody - as Joseph wouldn't.

So once he made his mind up, that he would dismiss her quietly (as painful as that would be to do), he finally got some rest. And so he laid down, and quickly fell soundly asleep.

Now this is where the story gets weird. He began to dream about these events; that's not what's weird. Everybody dreams about the stuff we're working on in life; like New York City, the subconscious never goes to sleep.

So this is not extraordinary for Joseph, dreaming about this stuff. The weird and extraordinary came about in his dream.

In Joseph's state of sleep, an unbelievably realistic angel of God told him to not go through with his plan to dump his pregnant fiancée. The angel said to him that God has placed this child within Mary, and that he - Joseph - is to name this child "Jesus," a name which means "one who saves." The Angel said the name "Jesus" is significant, for this child will save his people from their sins. And just like that - snap! - the angel disappears. Then Joseph woke up from his sleep. It seemed too real to be just a dream. Was he just imagining it? Was his mind trying to make the best of a bad situation? Was he deceiving himself? Angels don't just talk to anybody; why Mary?

And it comes to him. He vaguely remembers Mary trying to explain to him something like this, something about an angel. But he was too shocked at the news to hear her explanation. Now an angel comes to him? Why him? And this is the weird part: The angel asked him to name the child.

Doing that - naming the child - would signify to the world his own claiming responsibility for the child. He would then have to raise it as his own. He would be father to this child, a child that he did not father; a male child, too. Will he be his heir? What does all this mean?

Fully awake, Joseph realizes this was not merely a dream. Lying in bed, Joseph now conceives a plan, a plan that will work, if he believes in the messenger of his dream:

"No one has to know; no one would know, really. How could they know?" As far as Joseph knew, only she and he had any knowledge about this at all.

She had never lied to him before; of course not, it was not in her to lie or act deceitful. And she certainly wouldn't tell anyone else - the cost to her would be too great. He so wanted to believe her when she told him, and now this angel tells him that he should because it is so. God says it's so. Who was he to argue with God? So he does it; Joseph takes her as his wife, and when she has the baby - a boy - Joseph names him Jesus, just as the angel asked him to do.

It does us well to consider this story of Joseph and Mary in light of the following question: What do I see God bringing to birth in me now? For when we can honestly and courageously embrace that question, we see this story in a whole new way - Joseph and Mary are us.

Each one of us has been created in the image of God; just by being born we bear God's image in the world.

Through the breath of the Holy Spirit at baptism, something unique in all God's creation is brought to life within us. It is a new creation, made by God and blessed by God. We did not bring this new life within us about on our own. God did. So now, like Joseph, we are called upon to name it; we must choose to name that which God has planted within us, and has asked us to bring to fullness of life.

Only when we decide to take responsibility for the gift of God within us can we then nurture it into that unique creation that God has created us to be in this world. Only you can bring forth - only you can birth - that which God has placed within you to be in this world; I cannot do it for you, neither can another. But each of us has this gift of God within us. So the name "Emmanuel" equally applies, doesn't it? Surely you know that in the Gospels Jesus himself never gets called Emmanuel at any time in his life; only here in the story of his birth, seen as fulfilling Isaiah's ancient prophetic word.

Joseph, indeed, names him Jesus, which means he will save his people from their sins. But if we recognize that God has planted a unique life within each of us, how could we then say that God is not with us, also? How could we not, in some way, name that life "Emmanuel" as a reminder of God's absolute presence within us, in our hearts and in our minds?

We do not recognize it, because we have fallen asleep. In our slumber, we do not see the image of God in ourselves, we do not see it in our neighbor, and we quietly divorce ourselves from the life that dwells within us, planted by God, ready for our naming, our nurturing.

And the pain of that inner divorce is so great that we try to drown it out, with entertainments and distractions, with chemical substances, with anything that will help us forget whose we are, and what we are: A child of God, created for good in the world. Our only remedy is to wake up, to realize the dreamlike state of our existence, and choose to awaken and live;

Our only remedy is to bring forth that which God has planted within us; to create new ways to bring about God's reign of love in a world starving for love and the grace of forgiveness.

When we awake from our sleep, and do as God has asked us to do, we honor the God bearing life within us, and through labor and straining and sweat, we bring it forth into the world, and we name it:

"This is my Emmanuel, this is how God is with me, and what it has done to me, how it has changed me, how it nurtures me. This is what God in my life looks like, this, my Emmanuel."

Let us not just think about it, while still in our slumber. Let us awaken from sleep, accept the new life of God with us, and name it.

Can you imagine it?

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Rev'd Timothy M. Dombek
ST. JAMES EPISCOPAL CHURCH
301 Piney Mountain Road
Greenville, SC 29609-3035
(864) 244-6358
stjamesrector@mindspring.com

Copyright © 2001 Timothy M. Dombek All Rights Reserved.