Waiting: Day 22

Sunday December 21, 2025

And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame,

 resolved to divorce her quietly. But as he considered these things . . .

Matthew 1:19-20a, English Standard Version

Meanwhile, back in Nazareth, the focus of the story shifts from Mary to her intended husband, Joseph. We move from the book of Luke to Matthew’s Gospel which put the emphasis on the story from Joseph’s perspective.

Joseph knows a few things at this point. First, Mary is pregnant. Second, he’s not the father. Third, their relationship is legally binding-thus Matthew’s reference to him as Mary’s husband-and the relationship can only be ended through divorce.

I assume that Mary has told Joseph about Gabriel’s visit. He may think she’s a little off kilter, a bit of a religious fanatic at best, a total nutjob at worst. He may think she’s an immoral adulteress who has cheated on him and is now trying to claim some weird religious experience rather than owning up to her misdeeds. Maybe he’s just not sure.

He’s a good man, one Matthew calls “just.” And whatever he thinks of all this, he doesn’t want to drag Mary through the mud of gossip and innuendo and ruin her for life. But he’s not too keen on marrying her. By Old Testament law, he could have her put to death, so a quiet divorce seems the most kind and gracious way out of the mess.

The rich human side of this story has always intrigued and moved me. These were real people dealing with a very challenging situation. Joseph had to face Mary’s parents who likely assumed he was the daddy to be. He had to deal with his own parents who likely told him to “dump the little cheater,” if they believed him, that is. Mary faced both of those sets of parents. Their friends were advising them. And they had to deal with their own feelings. No wonder Mary retreated to the hill country and Joseph decided to quietly opt out.

All that gut-wrenching reality just makes the Christmas story all the more powerful for me. Our all-powerful, all-knowing God was dealing with ordinary people, and He was asking them to play a part in the divine story of redemption. That didn’t make it easy for them. Not at all. But it did give them the assurance that they weren’t alone in the midst of their challenges.

Here’s the final thought. If God could, would, and did use Mary and Joseph so long ago, is it just slightly possible He might use us today?