The Greatest Gift
Isaiah 7:10-14; Romans 1: 1-7; Matthew 1: 18-24
Christmas is a time for stories. It’s a time for re-reading the story of that “squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner” named Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens' A CHRISTMAS CAROL. It’s a time when children are lifted upon parents’ or grandparents’ laps to hear A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS (“The Night Before Christmas”) by Clement C. Moore. In that spirit, this evening I’d like to tell you a story.
It’s the story of a man by the name of Barnaby. He was a juggler who lived from day to day on the small donations he received. He went from town to town and he would take knives and balls and rings and juggle them. But that is all that he could do. He was embarrassed over his lack of talent and felt totally useless. People in the towns in which he juggled would be involved in their business work. Some ran small shops. Some were doctors, others teachers. And Barnaby would see all these people working, using their talents, making a difference, and he became more and more discouraged with each passing day.
One day on his travels, he was passing a huge monastery and he started to think and pray, “Maybe, if they let me enter this monastery I can do the most menial tasks, do something positive and save my soul and have more meaning and happiness in my life.”
And so he knocked on the monastery door and was greeted by the Brother who was in charge of all the monastic duties. Barnaby told him he would perform the most menial tasks for just a place to sleep and a little something to eat. He was admitted and was given a small room in which to live and told what time the Brothers ate their meals. He did his menial chores for months and seemed to find more meaning and happiness to his life. But then his sense of meaning and happiness started to diminish. He knew that all the Brothers of the monastery were preparing for Christmas. One Brother was writing a new musical score for the midnight Mass. Another Brother was making special bread to be given to the poor on Christmas Day. Another Brother was making a beautiful Christmas crib for the Christ Child to lay. Barnaby, in seeing what was done by others so talented, felt more and more inadequate. His sense of his own inferiority became more painful than ever. Christmas was coming closer, and what was he doing, but the most menial jobs in the monastery. He went to bed each night heartbroken.
Early on Christmas Morn, his despair reached its lowest point, and feeling he had nothing worthwhile to give, Barnaby decided to leave the monastery. Without even a goodbye to his fellow monks, he packed his tattered, well-worn travelling bag with his knives, his balls, his rings and visited the chapel for one last prayer. There, before the statue of our Blessed Mother, he saw the gifts of the other brothers. He saw the musical score that had magnificently praised God just a few hours before at Midnight Mass; he saw the loaves of delicious bread that would feed the poor later that morning; he saw the exquisite hand carved crib in which the Baby Jesus rested. And Barnaby cried.
But suddenly, as he stood in front of the statue of Our Blessed Mother, he decided to give her the only thing he had, the art of his juggling. At that moment, as balls and knives and rings flew in the air with the greatest of precision, something extraordinary happened. The statue of our Blessed Mother seemed to come alive with a radiance that Barnaby had never seen before. The Brothers of the monastery, seeing how the chapel was becoming filled with this new light, rushed in thinking that something tragic had taken place. And as they came into the chapel, they saw Barnaby, standing in front of the statue, juggling with joy and happiness. They all thought that Barnaby has gone mad. The Abbot screamed, “Sacrilege!” And they all rush at Barnaby to forcibly remove him from the chapel. But suddenly, the Blessed Virgin’s image came to life. She descended from her shrine, and with her mantle she wiped the sweat off the juggler’s forehead! The Abbot fell to his knees, and bowed his head to the floor. The other Brothers knelt behind him making the sign of the cross. And the Abbot quietly and prayerfully proclaimed: “Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God;” to which all the Brothers behind him respond in unison, “Amen.” For in the name of her Son, Mary accepted the gift of the juggler, who in his humility, thought he had nothing of worth to give, but who gave everything he had, everything he was, his entire self, and it turned out to be the greatest gift of all.
Today in our gospel, we hear another story about another man who was pure of heart; another man who, like Barnaby, gave the greatest Christmas gift to the Child Jesus . . . his entire self – everything he had, everything he was. His name is Joseph, the humble carpenter of Nazareth.
Matthew’s Gospel, describes Joseph as “just,” which can means pious, quiet, kind, not given to quarreling, and that sort of thing. But he is also called “righteous.” The term “righteous” means being in a right relationship with God. As God carefully selected the woman who would be the mother of his Son, he must have been equally careful in his selection of the foster-father. For genes are not the only thing parents impart to their children. Jesus, in his humanity, had to grow in wisdom, age, and grace. And Joseph must have been responsible for a good deal of this growth. It was Joseph who was Jesus’ male role model. From Joseph Jesus learned the trade that he himself would practice for some twenty years.
But there are even more important things that Jesus learned from Joseph. For Joseph was a just man, an honest man, a courageous man, a man of integrity. His betrothed was pregnant but not by him. Imagine the shame, the hurt, and the anger that he must have experienced assuming what anyone would assume in such a situation. His integrity would not allow him to marry an adulteress and pretend the child was his. But neither would he expose the woman he loved to shame and punishment. He didn’t procrastinate or waffle. He made the difficult decision to divorce Mary quietly.
But then God's messenger, an angel, visited Joseph in a dream. This was Joseph's Annunciation. He was disposed not only to the encounter, but to the invitation it presented, to pour himself out in love and for Love. He heard the message and, without hesitation, did what the Lord commanded and took Mary into his home. This was Joseph's Fiat, his YES. He exercised his freedom by saying Yes to God's invitation. His response was his song, his Magnificat.
Mary’s great claim to fame is her faith. When told the unbelievable, she believed. Joseph’s claim to fame is also his faith. He too was told the unbelievable and dared to believe. His response of faith entailed taking action – he change his plans, received Mary into his home, and accepted responsibility for this special child. Through his response of faith, he would receive the greatest gift promised for all men and women, and held in His arms the One that Kings and Patriarchs and Prophets had only longed to see.
Joseph’s importance can hardly be overstated. He saves Jesus and Mary from a life of shame and exclusion from the community. He gives Jesus his social identity, by naming him and including him in his own descent from King David. He’s indeed a righteous man, with a generous nature that goes far beyond the letter of the law. He listens, he loves, and he chooses the right path, no matter what people might say. His openness to God’s guidance makes the whole story of Jesus possible. Joseph emptied himself in order to be filled with the love and life of God. He gave himself fully as gift to God through accepting his unique and specific vocation as guardian of the Redeemer. Before angels give their gift of song, before kings present their gold, frankincense and myrrh, before shepherds kneel and offer their praise, there in the solitude of the stable, Joseph the Humble Carpenter offers the first gift, the greatest gift: the gift of himself.
What about us? This Christmas, as we come to the stable and bow our head and bend our knee, what gift will we offer? On Jesus’ Christmas list is no latest toy or fashion, no iphone, no flat screen TV. But what’s on his Christmas list actually is more costly and infinitely more valuable. On his list is US . . . Our hearts, our wills, our devotion, our praise, our service, our total dedication to him and to his gospel . . . the gift of ourselves. Total and complete; no wrapping necessary. It is the only one that is truly worth giving. Because, after all, that is the gift He gave to us.
