Another slab of wood sailed into the rapidly increasing pile of rejects. The measurements were wrong. Again. He really needed to focus! But how do you focus on measuring boards when your mind is reeling, your stomach churning, your heart aching? How do you make sense of work when you can’t make sense of the bewildering events in your own life? How do you believe a story with absolutely no foundation, no evidence, no logic? How do you separate the truth from a lie? How do you make a choice when it seems you are missing half the facts?
Heaving a sigh of frustration, Joseph dropped heavily into a chair, the conversation with Mary running on repeat in his mind. She was pregnant. It wasn’t his. Couldn’t possibly be. She claimed it was God’s. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. If it was, this was the greatest moment, the most significant pregnancy, the most important baby to grace the annals of history. If it wasn’t, well, that would be mortifying. He’d be forced to admit, if only to himself, that he had been swindled by a pair of gorgeous eyes and a brilliant smile. If it wasn’t true and he believed it, that would make him something he’d never been before–a fool. The title didn’t sit well.
Choosing a course of action was a horrific conundrum. How do you make such a choice when you don’t know truth from error? By law, he could divorce her. It would follow the societal norm. Every other man he knew would file that in an instant. No one wanted to be saddled with an unfaithful woman. But Joseph was fond of Mary. And he wasn’t completely certain she was lying. Publicly setting her aside didn’t feel right. He wouldn’t choose to have her humiliated in such a way. He’d rather save her from disgrace. Quietly sending her away would be a better idea. Surely there was somewhere she could go. In time the rumors would fade, some other scandal would entertain the town gossips, and he would find another wife. A faithful woman. Someone he could trust.
His decision made, the day done, Joseph focused on rectifying the mess he’d made of his woodshop. He cleaned up the pile of inaccurately cut wood, organized the tools his frustration had tossed hither and yon and headed to bed. He wouldn’t head out to start the process tonight. Tomorrow was a new day. Tomorrow would be soon enough to get started on the dissolution. He’d procrastinate a little longer. Contemplate his decision overnight. Savor the memory of the relationship while he could. Think of Mary as the innocent to whom he’d been betrothed. Ponder his choice. Question it, because somehow, a dissolution didn’t feel like a solution at all.
It is certainly a good thing Joseph didn’t immediately strike out to have a word with Mary’s father. The next day would have been a bit embarrassing. There would have been a lot of back and forth, hemming and hawing, rescinding and re-offering if he had. He would have lost face. Could have been labeled double-minded. It turned out Mary hadn’t concocted the most elaborate tale of all time from her treasure trove of girlhood dreams. It wasn’t an epic fairy tale at all. It was God-breathed truth.
When his mind finally settled enough to fall asleep, Joseph had his own Heavenly visit. An angel came, called him by name, and asked him to do something unheard of. Go ahead and take the pregnant-to-someone-besides-him Mary as his wife. She had not been unfaithful. She had not been dishonest. She truly was carrying a child conceived by the Holy Spirit. A Son. The promised Messiah. Jesus. Savior. Emmanuel. And Joseph, a simple carpenter with no grand accolades, no great accomplishments, no fabulous following, was being asked to be His earthly father. The pleasure was all his. (Matthew 1:18-25)
I wonder what would have happened if Joseph had refused. He stood to benefit not at all from the arrangement. He would not become popular because his Son turned water to wine. He wouldn’t mingle with the disciples, trading stories of eventful moments in Jesus’ childhood. He wouldn’t stand at the foot of the cross as Jesus bequeathed his care to John. There would be no great monetary gain, no social standing, no sainthood. He wouldn’t be called to speak to thousands crammed into concert halls, recounting his life as the father of the Messiah. There would be no book deals, no media coverage. Indeed, his name would fade from the Gospels as if his importance was insignificant. If Joseph was basing his decision to marry Mary on how he would benefit, he’d surely have declined. (John 2:1-11; John 19:26-27)
For all intents and purposes, Joseph was simply a placeholder, the guy that stood between Mary and complete social destruction. Without him, her Child would be illegitimate. She would no longer be accepted in polite society. Her alleged reputation would precede her. No other man would want her. She wouldn’t have been at the wedding in Cana to prompt the beginning of Jesus’ miraculous mission. She wouldn’t have spoken the command for the servants to do Jesus’ bidding. She’d have been unwelcome, uninvited. And people would have missed the miraculous because, tainted by his mother’s reputation, Jesus possibly wouldn’t have been there either.
And what would we miss by not hearing those words echoing down through history, “Whatever He tells you to do, do it”? Who better to speak those words than Mary? She had done it herself. The words Gabriel had spoken to her seemed as improbable, impossible as water miraculously becoming wine. Yet still she accepted. Her husband had done it, too. His obedience was even more impressive than her own. He couldn’t claim the Child as his, would benefit nothing from the birth, the raising, the miraculous, yet still he obeyed. Because, thirty-odd years before the words would leave Mary’s lips, Joseph understood the worth of doing whatever God tells you to do. (John 2:5)
Enormous things. Giant donations. Epic moves. Fantastic speeches. Tiny things. Whispered prayers. Silent support. Wordless hugs. Not everything God asks you to do will set off the bells and whistles of society. Not every word you speak, song you sing, or prayer you pray is meant to be plastered over the Internet for all and sundry. You might never see the end result of your obedience. That’s okay. Joseph didn’t. (Matthew 6:1-8)
According to many individuals more scholarly than I, Joseph never saw Jesus’ miracles. He never heard the stories of his alleged Son feeding the multitudes, healing the blind, or raising the dead. He’d likely have enjoyed hearing them. He didn’t stand and watch redemptive blood flow down Calvary’s hill, hear the rending of the Temple veil echo on the silent air, or visit an empty tomb. Surely his heart would have overflowed had he seen them. He didn’t get to. Apparently, Joseph passed away before those things happened. (Matthew 14:13-21; Mark 10:46-52; Mark 5:21-43; Luke 23-24; Matthew 27:51)
From his Heavenly vantage point, leaning over the edge of a cloud, perhaps Joseph watched those things with vision only those who have transitioned to glory can have. Explanatory vision. Comprehensive vision. Vision that, as the veil split, the stone rolled away, and the Holy Spirit descended, allowed Joseph to smile to himself and exclaim, “It was worth it!” Worth it to obey without a promised reward. Worth it to be in the background credited with nothing more than marrying Mary. Worth it, overwhelmingly so, to be just a bit player in the grand love story of God. (Matthew 27:51; Luke 24:2; Acts 2:1-13)
Do you find it so? When God comes and asks you to do something small, something no one will notice, something that won’t get your name in lights, do you jump at the chance? Or are you too busy waiting for the crowds to gather round, the stage lights to come on, the millionth follower to join your page? Do you see the things God asks you to do in the light of eternity or examine how they will look in the lights of this world? When God asks you to do something, anything, do you find obedience to be worth it? (I Samuel 15:22; Acts 5:29)
I hope you do. I hope you find instant obedience to Jesus to be worth it. No matter what He is calling you to do, I hope you do it. I hope you leave the flamboyant applause, monumental recognition, extravagant praise of the world behind, and revel in the abject joy of obedience to God. Whatever He is asking you to do, I hope you do it. Adventurous. Safe. Epic. Insignificant. Insanely public or intensely private. Do it. There are no small roles in God’s kingdom. Not one of His children is superfluous. Everything He asks is imperative to His kingdom. Leading preachers. Supportive prayers. God is offering you a part in His grand love story. I hope you accept. I hope you do whatever He asks. Big role or bit player. “Whatever He tells you to do, do it.” (Colossians 3:23; Ephesians 6:6-7)