Joseph the Just

When we read the Christmas story, it’s easy for our minds to camp on the wonder of that night—and rightly so. Angels. Glory. A child laid in a manger.

But before there was wonder, there was risk.
Before there was worship, there was shame.

The Son of God came to two young people under a cloud of public disgrace. Mary was pregnant—and not with Joseph’s child.

Claims of divine conception were not unheard of in the ancient world. Every Roman Caesar, after all, was said to have been born of a virgin. It was a convenient story for royalty. Far less convenient for a young, poor girl in a culture where perceived infidelity could quite literally get you killed.

Guido_Reni_-_St_Joseph_with_the_Infant_Jesus

Matthew tells us Joseph was a “just man.”
But what does justice look like here?

By the law, justice would have meant turning Mary over to the authorities. Justice would have meant public exposure. Justice would have meant letting the system do what it was designed to do. Justice would have meant distance, self-protection, and moral correctness.

And yet Matthew writes: “Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly.”

That single sentence hints that something new was already breaking into the world. A different kind of justice. One that protects rather than prosecutes. One that shields the vulnerable rather than sacrificing them on the altar of moral certainty.

Then the angel comes. Joseph is told this is no ordinary pregnancy. And Joseph does something remarkable.

He takes Mary under his care.
He absorbs the shame.
He walks with her all the way to Bethlehem—something men did not normally do. Typically, the head of the household traveled alone on behalf of the family. Why go with her?

Perhaps he feared what might happen if she were left behind. Perhaps he knew that “justice,” as it was commonly practiced, would not be kind to a girl with no rights and no voice.

Joseph endures suspicion. He gives up any dream of a quiet, respectable life. He stands between a vulnerable young woman and an accusing world. And in doing so, he becomes one of Scripture’s great unsung heroes.

Indeed, Joseph was a just man.

Not because he enforced the law,
but because he chose mercy.
Not because he protected his reputation,
but because he protected a life.

Long before Jesus would teach us about loving our enemies and defending the least of these, His earthly father lived it.

Joseph the Just.