There it is,
Before he says anything,
He is marked out by sin,
In the world’s eyes,
He is subject to innuendo,
Aspersions whispered about his origins,
And his family background,
The one who will stand up for the outcast,
Is cast out by the standards of the sneering,
When he reads those words in Nazareth,
Some thirty years later,
He’ll know their power,
This Son of the Father,
Adopted by a would-be,
First-time father,
A father who acts with grace,
And dignity,
And decorum,
A father who will not let personal, emotional ruin,
Ruin the one he loves,
Instead Joseph becomes an embodied metaphor,
For the eternal father,
Joseph bears on his shoulders the weight of the sin
His fiancé “should” face,
To be left in disgrace,
Left out,
Left behind,
Left alone with her illegitimate child,
Yet Joseph’s heart’s resolve is pure,
His intentions worthy of monumental mentions,
And only then,
When his conscience and spirit sing out in one accord,
The matter settled in his heart,
Does the angel of the Lord descend,
Bearing news of glad tidings.
And so it was that God with us was born,
God as child,
The gap closed,
The angel’s words confirmed in truth,
Joseph holding in his hands, this youth,
The father holds the Son,
The Son of the Father in the hands of his father, adopted,
Adopted and chosen,
Adopted and accepted,
Accepted at birth,
Accepted to be forsaken,
Accepted to be denied,
Accepted to be tried,
Accepted to one day die,
This adopted son of a father,
Who would not let the world’s order destroy,
His love.
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