We
have shifted from a Sunday of John the Baptist to a Sunday of Joseph from
Nazareth. However, the First Reading and the Gospel today provide a canvas of
contrast in which trust is one of the themes for this Sunday. It begins with the
fascinating story of Ahaz, the son of Jotham and the father of Hezekiah. Fascinating
because what we hear in the first reading is a commendable King who refuses to
put God to the test. However, a background check would reveal a clearer picture
of one of the lousier Kings of Judah. He ascended the throne relatively young
and was religiously improper in his worship—on the mountain rather than in the
Temple. He faced a coalition of powers banded to resist the hegemony of
Assyria. As he did not want to ally himself with Israel and Syria, he entered
into a pact with Assyria. Prophet Isaiah cautioned him to trust God instead of relying
on foreign allies. To confirm that this was indeed a true prophecy, Ahaz could
ask for a sign. Even though he nobly refused, still, the Prophet gave it to
him.
Ahaz
may have been righteous in this one instant, but he was a disaster as far as
the monarchy went. The point of the prophecy is to show us that God can be
trusted. Here in the case of Ahaz, before long, the kingdoms threatening from
the North were laid low and Judah prospered more than it had ever done so when
it was threatened by Assyria. For Ahaz in the First Reading, God was indeed the
Immanuel.
With
Joseph, the scenario is different. This was a man of honour who upon the discovery
of Mary’s pregnancy, decided to spare her the humiliation. However, in a dream,
he was told to do otherwise and to accept Mary and the child as his own. He
could have disregarded the dream and carried on with his original intention,
but, he did not. He was definitely acting out of character for Joseph, to be
called a man of honour must have been a law-abiding Jew. He would have found it
a challenge to step beyond the legal confines of his thinking to trust in the
vision that God had presented to him. So, in our Christmas focus, we can easily
overlook this momentous “Yes” of Joseph forgetting that the Fiat
of Mary would have amounted to nothing if it were not supported by Joseph’s
humble assent. This was a man of profound trust in God.
Trusting
in God does not come naturally to many of us. For one, our sense of the self,
that is, the sense of who we are, is highly individualistic aptly represented
by the myth of the self-made man or woman. The virtues of modesty and humility
do not fit into our measure or standard of what it means to have lived a good
life. It seems that our notion of success is marked by self-determination. Is
it a wonder why some elderly folks feel lonelier because they refuse to accept
help? To capitulate, that is, to give in to assistance would be a sign of
personal failure in a self-defining society. Now you understand why people
commit suicide when they are incapacitated. Furthermore, we have certainly absorbed,
in an osmotic manner, another fiction flowing from the American dream—that is
the freedom to be what one wants to be. Whatever dreams one may have, the world
exists in order to fulfil our dreams.[1]
Only when we can live our dreams will our lives be fulfilled. This is a
powerful narrative which we are bombarded with every day. Somehow the true “self-in
relation-to-others” has disappeared under the cult of the individual/personal self.
We are lulled into believing that we are better than others because our needs matter
most. Have you seen how impatient important people are? We are somehow entitled
to everything we desire. We may be unknowingly convinced that our Facebook
friends are waiting to read of our latest accomplishment or exploits. Anything
less, we are led to believe that we have been victimised.
Breaking
into our self-engrossed or self-absorbed universe, Joseph provides a more
interesting sense of fulfilment. He walks with us into the territory of missed
opportunities, wasted chances and personal failure. A beautiful wife to have
and children with her—half a dozen maybe? Do you not think that he would have
had great plans for his carpentry trade? Joseph and Sons. His dream comes
nowhere near the plan that God has laid out for him. Thus, he becomes a model of
sacrifice and self-denial. Furthermore, his love was generous; without counting
the cost. He spent his life providing for a family not of his own, letting go
of the desire to have a family of his own. In short, he forsook his dream in
order to fulfil a dream far bigger than his: “You must name Him Jesus, because
He is the one who is to save His people from their sins”.
On
the cusp of Christmas, a relevant question to ask is what our vocation should
be like. Where do our dreams fit into the reality of Christ’s birth? There is a
rubbishy song which I am sure we sing without giving it a second thought.
“Christmas isn’t Christmas till it happens in your heart”. On the one hand, it
fits flawlessly into our rather “subjectivistic” worldview where everything
revolves around us. This self-obsessed cult takes an objective historical event—the
birth of Christ—and reduces it to a subjective experience in which we become the
measure of how real “Christmas” is. But, on the other hand, it is also true
that whilst the historical Christmas may have come and we have been
commemorating it for the last 2000-odd years, still, what is it if we do not
fit into its story. What is Christmas if we live far from its ideal?
The
atmosphere, emotion and feeling associated with the birth of Christ may be expectant,
fuzzy and warm but as Joseph illustrated today, when God enters our lives, it
is not always as magical as we think it should be. Thus, when God is with us,
trust should be our response. In fact, faith is the only appropriate response where
the result will always be beyond our expectation.
For
every Ananda Krishnan, Robert Kuok or Syed Bukhari that society lauds or
praises, I am sure there are many who fall by the wayside of the overlooked and
forgotten. As in the case of Joseph, the futility of his dream was not an indication
of failure but rather a sign that God had other plans. Therefore, when our expectations
meet with failure and our dreams are shattered, the question to ask is, where
God could be leading us. In that case, how do we transform our sorrows into an
oblation of trusting joy by fitting our desires into God’s greater dream for
the world—which is, for the world to be saved in Jesus Christ.
There
is only one story for the Immanuel—God with us and that is for the salvation of
man. That is the reason for His first and second/final coming. To summarise, both
these men, Ahaz and Joseph symbolise our capacity. In Ahaz, we acknowledge our
ability to resist God’s overtures whereas, in Joseph we recognise our capacity to
trust God’s design. Either way, God desires to be with us for He is Immanuel. The
question is, do we want to be with God?
[1] We are disgusted by “selfish” people. But,
in truth, people are not selfish as if they want to be like that. They are
selfish because they have not questioned this assumption about existence that
the world does not owe them a living. If they do not question this assumption,
then they will be “selfish” for they unwittingly expect the world and even God
to bend to their will.
