"Do we know what Joseph
looked like?" someone asked at the Bible study last Sunday evening.
"Are there pictures or drawings of him (that show him as he was)?"
I said we don't know what Joseph
looked like. I suggested that I like to think of him as compact, shorter than
most people (we're taller -well, some of you are!- than earlier generations),
muscular given the fact that he was a carpenter and a builder (who walked
almost everywhere), and a very dark-skinned Palestinian.
In our study we discovered some
things about Joseph.
We learned he was quiet. Didn't
say a lot. When he discovers Mary is pregnant, he decides to "divorce her
quietly." In the entire New Testament there is no record of Joseph saying
a thing. When Jesus goes running off at the age of twelve, during the family's
visit to Jerusalem, Mary is the one who says, "Where have you gone to, and
why are treating us this way?" Joseph apparently stands there and
just...is. (Perhaps Jesus thinks of the man his dad was when he, in Luke 15,
tells the story of the father who never gave up on his youngest son.)
The other thing we learned is
that he was compassionate. Instead of doing what the law allowed him to do and
divorcing Mary, he allows love and compassion and kindness to control him.
He was a man who trusted God, and
even allowed the dreams God sent to change the plans he had made.
He was, I suggested, a hard
working man who was quiet, humble, physically strong, faithful and kind. The
kind of man who was better with wood than words. The kind of man whose hands
were callused and who loved being outside fishing. Maybe, even, the kind of man
who would be the last to volunteer to lead public prayers in the synagogue or
direct a Bible study.
Sometimes I think quiet men, men
who are better with their hands than words, men who are never more close to God
than when they are on a trail, or fishing, working in the dirt or reading a set
of plans, wonder if there is a place for people like them in the church. They
see rascals like me who are into music and love writing poetry and often get
close to God by talking through a Bible study, and they think, "That's not
who I am. That's not how I'm wired. I'm not one of those guys. I'm not sure if
someone like me can be a Jesus follower. I'm not very spiritual."
There is a pretty standard gender
breakdown in most Mainline Protestant churches. Around 60% (or more) of those
participating are female, and men are -in many places- a dwindling tribe. Hard
to find in any numbers at all. (In fact, many male pastors, myself included,
score high on the feminine end of a rather standard personality inventory.)
I am confident there are women
who don't feel they "fit" the classic profile of the active
"church lady." So they stay away, too. Instead of devotions they
would rather build a house, get clothes for a family in need, tutor a child, or
march against what some would consider a reactionary attempt to change a state
constitution. They experience God in doing -more so than talking or joining in
a prayer litany.
Is there a place in the church for
carpenters...and welders...and truck drivers? Is there a place for people whose
love for God doesn't get expressed in words as much as it does in basic acts of
kindness and compassion? Is there a place here for people whose hands are
callused rather than soft, for people -male or female- who don't think they fit
the traditional profile of what a "church person" looks like?
Remember, there was a carpenter
at the middle of this story. He had calluses and he was a pivotal figure in
God's narrative of redemption! There is room for someone like you in this
story...in God's story...in the church.
In Christ and for Christ,
Mark
No comments:
Post a Comment