Sermon: Fake It Till You Make It
A sermon based on Matthew 1:18-25
On April 15, 2018, then Pope Francis was visiting a public housing complex in Rome. The church of St. Paul of the Cross was a spiritual home for many in those homes and Pope Francis held a meeting with some of the very young people in the church. The children lined up to ask the Pope a question. When a 5-year-old boy named Emanuele – a great name for this Advent season and for today’s scripture– was handed the microphone he smiled but could not bring himself to ask the Pope his question. “I can’t do it,” he repeatedly said to those assisting the Pope. Pope Francis intervened and asked the boy to come up to him and whisper his question into his ear. Hesitating at first, the boy finally did so. The two briefly whispered to each other, and the boy returned to his seat. The Pope informed the crowd that Emanuele had given him permission to reveal both the question and the Pope’s answer. With tears in his eyes, Emanuele wanted to know if his father, who had recently died, was in heaven. This might seem a normal question for a young person to ask, but Emanuele was concerned about more than what happens when we die. Emanuele had told the Pope two things. First, his father did not believe in God. Second, his father had made sure that all four of his children were baptized. Emanuele was concerned that his father’s lack of faith in God would prevent him from getting to heaven, and he wanted to know what the Pope thought his father’s fate.
As many of you know, I grew up Catholic, went to Georgetown University, a Jesuit Catholic university, and almost decided to become a Jesuit priest. I know that many people have harsh things to say about the Catholic church, and much of it with good reason. I still love that church and one reason I do is that it can still stand up leaders like Pope Francis who gave a remarkably unexpected answer to Emanuele. First, the Pope affirmed the boy’s willingness to cry in public, noting that it takes courage to do so, that more of us should be like Emanuele, and that a father who could teach his children that it is OK to cry in public was surely a good man. Next, the Pope claimed that God would be more proud of a nonbeliever who still had his children baptized than of believer who did so. It is obviously easier for a believer to have their children baptized, and so less noteworthy. This second answer reminds me of a rabbi who was once asked by his students why God allows atheists to exist. The rabbi answered that many atheists do good simply from the goodness of their hearts, without thought of reward or punishment from God. In so doing they both temper the pride of believers who show off their faith by doing good things publicly for all to see, and shame believers when, despite their supposed faith in a God who cares for all, they fail to lead lives of kindness and charity.
The Pope then asks the children if God would abandon someone like Emanuele’s father. The children cry out, “No!” and the Pope tells Emanuele that he now has his answer. Yes, his father is in heaven. The Pope even encourages Emanuele “talk to your dad; pray to your dad.” I confess as one no longer within the Catholic church that I was very happy for my former church home when I read about this exchange between Pope Francis and Emanuele.
Like Emanuele’s father, Joseph in today’s scripture reveals his good heart through his actions. While he was betrothed to Mary, he knew that if Mary was pregnant, he could not be the father of the child. Instead of publicly shaming Mary as would have been entirely customary, we are told that he decided to end the engagement quietly. He continued to care for Mary despite having good reason to feel betrayed by her. Before he went through with ending the engagement, however, his is told in a dream that the child is “from the Holy Spirit” and that the child should be named Jesus because he would save the people from their sins. In case you are wondering about the connection between the name Jesus and saving people from their sins, you just need to know that Jesus is a variant of the name Joshua which in the Hebrew means “God is salvation.”
Scripture tells us that after the dream Joseph did all these things. However, a lot seems to be left out. We are never told what Joseph said to Mary after the dream, and we are never told of Mary’s thoughts on the matter. Perhaps we never wonder about these things because we so easily merge in our minds the infancy narrative of Luke where Mary has a lot to say and Joseph says nothing, with the infancy narrative of Matthew where neither Joseph nor Mary actually say anything at all but in which Joseph is the only person who makes any decisions. However, this tendency to merge the two narratives in our minds never lets us experience the humanity of Joseph, and that is unfortunate.
Imagine the following: You are a good, young Jewish man. I should note that some traditions have Joseph being an older widower with Mary being his second wife. This is how Jesus can both have siblings, as scripture indicates, and Mary can remain ever virgin as one dominant tradition came to affirm. The siblings were half-siblings from Joseph’s first marriage. I, however, prefer to think of my namesake as a young man. For the most part, he has tried hard to do the right things; obeying his parents, praying to God, and doing good deeds in his community. Now, he has begun one of the most exciting and important periods in his life. He is engaged to be married. She is cute, this Mary, and she is a little feisty, which he thinks is kind of exciting. But now it turns out that she is pregnant. Joseph is devastated. He knows what this means. But instead of exposing Mary to public shame and perhaps to a punishment of death, he will quietly end what was to be a wonderful new stage of his life. Then he has a dream where he is told that the child is from the Holy Spirit. Here is where the scriptures really leave out the humanity of Joseph. Scripture wants us to believe that Joseph just easily goes along with what the angel tells him. He thinks to himself, the child is from the Holy Spirit, I name him Jesus. Sure, OK, no problem. It seems like scripture presents us with a Joseph who wakes from his dream, smacks his forehead, and says, “The Holy Spirit. Duh!! Why didn’t I think of that? Engagement is still on!!” The reality, I think, would have been very different. I don’t think Joseph would have had any idea what it meant for a baby to be “from the Holy Spirit.” At best, I think he would have had just enough goodness in him to sense that sticking with the original planned marriage was the best way to proceed. Joseph would most likely have had no idea what was going to happen. He would have had no idea what to do beyond what he had always done – try to be a good man.
When we think about Joseph this way he can become an inspiration for those of us who are not blessed with the clear light of faith. For many people, Christian affirmations of faith can seem confusing and certainly not obvious. Much of what we are asked to believe can seem like “the child is from the Holy Spirit.” If someone says, “God exists” and “God loves you” and “God holds you in God’s hands” those affirmations can rightly seem like ridiculous words designed to keep us from sinking into the depths of despair. When we do not experience the presence of God in our lives, it can be hard to believe that all this God talk is anything other than pure fantasy.
Here is where I think about Emanuele’s father. We are told that he died a nonbeliever. To me, this is not surprising. I would be a nonbeliever if believing in God required affirming all of the ridiculous things people say about God. If I had to believe that God decides how and when people die, cures some people of illnesses and lets others suffer and die, and condemns some people to eternal torment just because of what they do or do not believe, I would openly and defiantly declare myself to be a nonbeliever. Happily, I do not think God does any of these things. It is, therefore, much easier to call myself a believer. But I cannot say that I feel God’s presence in my life on a regular basis. However, I do experience God like distant music coming from over a hill, or perhaps from over many hills. I am not sure about the source of this song, but I am happy to climb one or more hills in search of its origins.
You might say that I am one who is willing to go through the motions of belief while in search of God’s presence. I am willing to fake it until I make it. I can follow God while a lot remains unclear. Perhaps you are like me. Perhaps you are like Emanuele’s dad. Perhaps you are like Joseph. Perhaps you see all these Christians around you praying their prayers, reading their scriptures, singing their hymns, and taking their communion, and you wonder what they have that you are lacking. If this describes you, let me assure you that you are not alone. If this describes you, allow me to suggest a path forward. Just as Joseph must surely have continued to wonder what in the world is going on, let me suggest that it is quite alright to keep wondering what this Christian life is really all about. Yet, while you keep wondering about this, I want to encourage you to pray the prayers, read the scriptures, sing the hymns, and gather at the communion table. I cannot promise that it will all make sense, but in the process you might start to hear that distant music more clearly, and you just might begin to feel embraced by its source.