In preparation for Christmas, we have used the Friday essays to consider some of the historical facts and characters behind the miraculous story of the Incarnation. I gathered these characters into The Myth and the Manger, and am so grateful to all of you who have ordered a copy. This Friday and next, as we complete our preparations to celebrate Jesus' birth, we'll use two of the stories from the book.

This week we'll return to Bethlehem with Joseph, the husband of Jesus' mother. Next week we'll travel to the manger with the angel who announced the good news to the world. So this morning, it is my privilege to welcome Joseph to the essay.

I am Yosef ben Yakov, the carpenter from Nazareth, husband of Mary and legal father of Jeshua Meshiah, or "Jesus Christ." I am deeply honored to be invited to share my story with you today.

I am from Nazareth, a tiny farming village in Galilee. We never had more than 500 people in our town during my lifetime. We Galileans were rough, course, common people. The city folks down south made fun of our clothes and the way we talked.

And Nazareth was even less significant. Our town was not mentioned even once in the entire Old Testament. There was even a joke down in Judah, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" And everyone would laugh (John 1:46).

The only reason our family lived there was because of our zeal for the Lord and his word. A hundred years earlier, during the rule of Aristobulus, a number of zealous Jews migrated north to take our faith to the pagan Galileans. Our family was among them. We were so successful that no one questioned the Jewishness of Galilee for centuries to come. As you might expect, I grew up in a very religious home.

I made my living as a carpenter, what the Greeks called a tekton (Matthew 13:55). I worked with wood to make just about anything you might need. I built walls, mended roofs, repaired gates, made ox-yokes and ploughs and kitchen tools and beds, furniture and even ships and houses. As was our custom, I taught my craft to our son, Yeshua (Mark 6:3).

Mine was an honorable trade, but not very profitable. A carpenter depends on the payment of his townspeople, and ours was a very poor village. We were so poor, in fact, that after Yeshua was born and we brought the required sacrifice for him to the Temple, we were allowed to substitute a dove since we couldn't afford a lamb (Luke 2:24; cf. Leviticus 12:6-8). But I get ahead of myself.

One other fact you need to know about my family: we were poor, but hard as it is to believe, we were royalty. Our family was descended from the great King David himself. In fact, I am the only man in your New Testament besides our son Yeshua to be called the "son of David" (Matthew 1:20).

David's home, as you may know, was the village of Bethlehem, down south near Jerusalem. And so Bethlehem was my home town as well, a fact that would soon become very important to my story.

Mary's family was from Nazareth as well. As was the custom of our day, I followed the normal three steps in making her my wife.

First came the arrangement, made many years earlier. Her father and I agreed that when she came of age, she and I would be married.

Next came the engagement, when Mary turned twelve years of age. I was well into my thirties by now. This may seem strange to you, but it was simply our custom. For an entire year we were married legally, but not sexually. She continued to live in her parents' home while I lived in my house. We were commanded by God's law to remain pure sexually, until our marriage would be completed. If I had died during this year, Mary would have been called "the virgin who is a widow."

Then finally would come the completion, when I took her from her parents' home into mine and we became husband and wife.

This year of engagement began with great excitement. We were making plans for our home, our family, our future. I had waited many years for this time, and finally my patience and faith would be rewarded.

Then came the most terrible news of my entire life: Mary was pregnant.

I had kept myself pure sexually all these years, and don't think I wasn't tempted or didn't have other options. The least I expected of Mary at her young age was that she would do the same. And she had seemed so saintly and godly all across these years, so pure and innocent. I was shocked beyond words. But facts don't lie. My engaged wife, my love, was pregnant. And I was not the father.

Now I had the decision of my life to make.

Matthew in his Gospel calls me "just" or "righteous" (Matthew 1:19), which means "one who keeps the law." He was right--I tried my very best to be obedient to the word and will of God. As a result, I could not marry Mary. Even if I wanted to put this shame and betrayal aside, I could not do so legally. The rabbis forbade it. She had committed adultery, and our marriage could be no more. God's law was clear.

This fact left me two options. I could divorce Mary publicly. I could call her and her family before our entire town, accuse her of adultery, and divorce her before everyone. In fact, I could even have her stoned as an adulteress (Deuteronomy 22:13-21; Leviticus 20:10).

Or I could divorce her privately. With just two witnesses, I could go to her house and declare us divorced, then pay the fine to the priest and be done with her.

Either way she would be destitute. Her own family would probably disown her, she would raise her child on her own, and she would live in shame. But God's will had given me no other options. Or so I thought.

Then came the good news, as shocking as the bad. I had determined to divorce Mary privately. Even though this would not defend my honor publicly or express the deep sense of hurt and betrayal I felt, it was the kindest thing for her. It was the night before I would go to her home and pronounce our divorcement. And then, in my dreams, an angel of the Lord appeared to me.

I know you're familiar with my story, but try to hear it as though you were me. Have you ever heard an angel of the Lord speak directly to you? You'll never forget it if you do. The awe, holiness, and glory of it is overwhelming and unmistakable. This alone was a miracle. But his announcement was even more stunning.

He told me that Mary's child had been "conceived by the Holy Spirit." Who had ever heard of such a thing? Our people had no knowledge of something like this. Not once in all our Scriptures or history had God ever done anything like it. I know that the Virgin Birth is basic theology to you, but it was a shocking idea to me that night. How would you feel if your fiancee or daughter told you that she had become pregnant "by the Holy Spirit"? Would you believe her?

What could I do?

I could believe the angel and complete the marriage, raise this child that was not mine, and perhaps live the rest of my life in confusion and doubt about it all.

Or I could refuse. Who would believe me anyway? People could count to nine months--they would know that Mary was with child before we were legally and morally allowed to be husband and wife. They would assume that I had been an immoral lawbreaker. They would shun me or worse. It was far easier to refuse this strange dream. If this really was of God, he could find someone else to fulfill his confusing will.

It was a terrible place to be, and I was there through no fault of my own. I had done nothing to deserve this turmoil, this decision. Why me?

I decided: I would obey the angel. I would stake my life, my marriage, and my future on this word from God. I would be an obedient man. I married my fiancee and kept her pure sexually until her child was born, even though the angel did not require this of me. I named the boy Yeshua, or Jesus, adopting him as my own. Thus I made him legally a "son of David" as I was.

And because of my obedience, my life and your history would never be the same.

The ancient prophet had announced that the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem (Micah 5:2). And so God moved the entire Roman Empire to force her subjects to return to their home towns for a census, so that Mary and I would be made to return to Bethlehem, our family home. All so Yeshua could be born there.

Then the angel made his second appearance to me (Matthew 2:13), warning me of King Herod's plot to kill this child. I was forced to abandon my family, friends, and work, and flee to a foreign country. Can you imagine how that felt? And to go to Egypt! The last time our people were there, things were hard for us, as you might remember. It made no sense to me, but again, I was obedient.

Still later came the angel's third visit (Matthew 2:19), leading us to return to Israel so this boy could be the Messiah of our nation. This was confusing as well--didn't Herod have family who would want us dead as well? But I was obedient. Then came the fourth visitation from the Lord (Matthew 2:22), leading us full circle back to Nazareth. Not to Jerusalem, where the Messiah would grow up with all the power and sophistication due him, but the tiny town of Nazareth. Again this made no sense, but I was obedient.

There is one other chapter to my life story, not in your gospels.

In our society, the religious upbringing of the children and especially the sons was given entirely to me. I was thus responsible for teaching the Messiah, God's Son, the word and will of the Lord God. For instructing him in the law and the prophets, the ways and word of our God. For teaching him to be obedient to Yahweh as I had been.

It is a great joy to me that my son did in fact obey the will of the Lord as I had. Even when that will led him to Gethsemane and Calvary, to die in your place and mine. He was obedient, too.

But it is my greatest joy that our son learned to address his Father in a way which was completely new for our people. With a title none of our rabbis or scholars had ever given to God before. With the name he first learned to call me: "father." He taught you to pray in the same way: "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name." That he could identify his name for me with his name for God--this is my greatest and most humbling joy of all.

I am an obedient man. I was not wealthy, or powerful, or successful in the eyes of the world, but I was obedient. I believe that with God, success is obedience. From Noah and his ark, to Moses and Pharoah, to Joshua parting the Jordan river, to the prophets and their message, to our Son's decision to go to the cross for us, with God obedience is everything.

If I had not been obedient to God, I would have missed our Messiah. God would surely have raised up another to be his father on earth, but I would have missed him. I have learned that only when we obey God do we truly know him. You see, there is real joy in faithfulness, peace in obedience. And knowing God personally is worth whatever it costs us.

So I must ask you today, are you obedient to God?

Has God spoken to you, but you've not yet obeyed him in the matter? Do you know someone who needs to know Jesus, but you've not yet told them? Is there sin which you've not confessed? Do you owe our God some gift of your finances, abilities, or time?

Is Jesus real for you in this, the season of his birth? Or is he just a figure of history and part of the season? How long since you truly heard from him? Felt his presence? Walked with him? Knew him? Only when we obey him do we know him.

I've been called the "forgotten man of Christmas," and that's fine with me. Christmas is not about me--it's about our son. But please don't forget this about me--I was obedient.

Is this what others will remember about you?

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