Don Friesen
I find newspaper headlines quite aggravating. Headlines are written in large type, and if in the midst of a war campaign, as the "Ottawa Citizen" is at the moment, even larger typeface is required. This means that the person who inserts the headline has little room in which to work, and so the headline, of necessity, must be brief! Given the English language's many words that double as nouns and verbs, I often find headlines difficult to decipher. Though it may be acceptable journalistic etiquette to employ puns in headlines in order to draw in the reader, it has the opposite effect on me, and the headlines in the "Citizen" are doubly aggravating because they often contain spelling errors. My dislike of headlines is mild, however, compared with that of G.K. Chesterton, who said that "...headlines are written by ...some solitary and savage cynic locked up in the office, hating all (hu)mankind and raging and revenging himself at random...." (All Things Considered, page 124) An attitude shared, I think, by President Lyndon B. Johnson, who once said, "If one morning I walked on top of the water across the Potomac River, the headline that afternoon would read: "President Can't Swim!"
Newspaper headlines are an important part of modern communications, however, and public figures, like politicians, artists, musicians, authors and such, are quite pleased to capture a headline now and then. It is a sign of having made a mark, of having captured the public's attention! If your job is to shape the opinions of people--many people--then a headline with a positive spin can be of great help. In fact, headlines can launch a public career.
In 1919 a general strike in Seattle shut down the city for three days, and when the strike ended promptly and peacefully the mayor of Seattle--one Ole Hanson--was rewarded with many laudatory headlines. Regional and national newspapers gave the mayor full credit for the strike's conclusion, launching him on a short whirlwind of national celebrity. It was short-lived, however, for the individual in question did not have the substance attributed to him, and historians note, "No matter how brightly...Hanson had shone from the nations' newspapers around the week of the strike, when it was over his name went from the headlines to footnotes and stayed there." (Trevor Williams, "Ole Hanson's Fifteen Minutes," Seattle General Strike Project, May, 1999)
Few people, public figures especially, are satisfied with a humble footnote, and a descent from headline to footnote must be humbling indeed. A footnote does not generate much publicity. Even in a book footnotes are relegated to second-class citizenship, and must be content with a very small typeface.
Ahaz Hopes for Headline in Middle Eastern Battle Royal!
A fellow named Ahaz made the headlines in the 8th century B.C. when at the age of twenty (2 Chronicles 28:1) he ascended the throne of Judah. It wasn't long before he had to deal with his first crisis. Two neighbouring kings joined together to attack Ahaz. Like most monarchs, King Ahaz had no wish to become a footnote in the annals of history, and so he looked around, seriously considering an alliance with Assyria in order to hold off this attack. Assyria was a brutal power. Armed to the teeth, with a reprehensible reputation for plundering, Assyria's ominous shadow loomed large over the region. Ahaz was torn between cozying up to the Assyrians, buying them off with enormous sums paid in tribute, or entering into a coalition with the minor powers whose soldiers were now clamouring at his doorstep.
In the midst of this tricky political situation, the prophet Isaiah came to Ahaz, encouraging Ahaz not to put so much confidence in capricious political alliances. "Trust in God," Isaiah counselled the king, and to support his argument Isaiah gave King Ahaz a sign, a sign that everything would eventually turn out well for Judah--the sign being the birth of a child!
I can imagine Ahaz's response. Here he sat, the ruler of a once great nation, the chosen people of the covenant, and in a desperate situation he was supposed to find comfort in the birth of a child! Isaiah's prophecy was a promise that the Davidic dynasty would continue, confirming a deeply held hope in Judah, but Ahaz took little comfort in it. He continued his political manoeuvres, with disastrous consequences for Judah. He lost 120,000 of his soldiers in one day! Another 200,000 men, women and children were taken into captivity to Samaria. His country was plundered, to be followed shortly by an invasion by the Edomites from the east and the Philistines from the south and the west! When, in desperation, Ahaz asked for Assyria's help, Assyria came, not to help, but to join in the plunder! (2 Chronicles 28:20)
When all is said and done, King Ahaz is but a footnote in biblical history, remembered as one who "did not do what was right in the sight of the Lord his God, as his ancestor David had done...." (2 Kings 16:2) He "walked in the way of the kings of Israel," the Old Testament adds wryly, as if that should explain everything.
Joseph Content as Footnote in Humble Family Drama
Some eight centuries later a man in Nazareth also faced disaster, though on a smaller, more domestic scale. A humble carpenter discovered that his fiancee was pregnant, but not by him! No doubt some men, in outraged masculine pride, would have allowed her to suffer the public disgrace people in that day felt she deserved. Joseph, however, set aside any wounded pride he may have felt, planning, instead, to end the engagement quietly in order to minimize Mary's disgrace. Deciding to sleep on it before he arranged a quiet divorce, Joseph had a dream in which an angel said to him, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins." (Matthew 1:20-21)
Some dream! When Joseph woke up, he faced a choice. Should he trust the dream? Should he do what was asked? Should he let the marriage go forward, as though the child were his own? Joseph's choice would determine whether or not the child had a lineage. The importance of Joseph's decision is set up in the preceding verses--the "begets" and "begats" at the beginning of Matthew's Gospel--the genealogy of Jesus--Joseph's genealogy, really. It was all up to Joseph. According to Jewish law, the child is his if he says so--whether or not he is the biological father. By publicly naming the child, Joseph established that he was the child's father.
The Gospel of Matthew tells us that "When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him...." (Matthew 1:24) Joseph, with little fanfare, did what was required of him, no more, no less. His response is a commendable one, and a crucial one, every bit as crucial as the other characters in this drama. Mary gives the child life. The Holy Spirit makes the child the Son of God who "will save his people from their sins." And Joseph's decision is needed to give the child a name: Jesus, son of David, from whose house the Messiah was expected to come.
The birth of Jesus is a humble drama, a peasant drama rather than a royal one. It is interesting that even in these humble circumstances Joseph soon disappears right off the biblical radar screen. We know very little about Joseph. Joseph speaks no lines in the Gospels. In Matthew Joseph disappears before Jesus is even baptized. Mark doesn't mention Joseph at all! John only mentions him twice, and while the Gospel of Luke mentions Joseph several times, there is a curious allusion to his connection to Jesus in chapter 3. Luke says, "Now Jesus...was about thirty years old when he began his ministry. He was the son, so it was thought, of Joseph...." (Luke 3:23, NIV) Another translation reads, "...when he began his ministry, Jesus...was about thirty years of age, being supposedly the son of Joseph...." (NASB) Yet another reads: "People assumed that Jesus was the son of Joseph...." (PHIL)
Talk about being a bit player in this whole thing, and the credit attributed to you dubious at best! While Joseph dutifully poses beside the manger on most Christmas cards, he is almost forgotten in our Christmas celebrations. For example, there is little mention of him, in our Christmas carols, save for a cameo appearance in the fourth verse of "Angels We Have Heard on High". Joseph is but a brief footnote in a very local drama, and yet his role is an important one, for Matthew says, "All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet: ‘...the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,' which means, ‘God is with us.'" (Matthew 1:22-23)
In Defence of Footnotes
Philip Yancey, in one of his books, talks about "finding God among the headlines" (Finding God in Unexpected Places), and while that in itself requires no small measure of discernment, it's not hard to imagine that it may be even more difficult to find God in forgotten footnotes. Though Joseph was but a footnote in the Christmas story, and one soon forgotten, even in the pages of Scripture itself, I think the Joseph-like people who populate the biblical story are both its charm and its genius.
Some of the Scriptures' appeal may have to do with the humility required of those who honour God. Leonard Bernstein (1918-1990), well-known composer and conductor, said, "I can get plenty of first violinists, but to find someone who can play the second fiddle with enthusiasm--that's a problem. And if we have no second fiddle, we have no harmony." Humility may explain part of the appeal of the biblical story, but its appeal also has to do with the universality of the story.
Ernie Pyle (1900-45) was an American journalist who in 1935 began to write a syndicated column about the lives of typical Americans. He continued the practise during World War II, writing about the experience of ordinary soldiers and sailors. In fact, one author (James Tobin) made the observation that Pyle really wasn't interested in breaking news. Pyle wrote, not about policy issues, or the news from the declarers and strategists of war, but about life in the trenches, the ground-level, dirt-eating, wet shoes, little-food, lots-of-marching, life-on-the-line stories. As one person put it, "the stuff of footnotes rather than of headlines." (Allan R. Andrews, "Ernie Pyle: The Stuff of Footnotes, not Headlines, in War," The American Reporter, Vol. 5, No. 1049, April 15, 1999)
Pyle was once asked by one of his superiors to write more about soldiers from Cleveland so that more papers could be sold in Cleveland, but he resolutely refused. Instead, he wrote about anyone he encountered. Pyle called his descriptive snapshots of the war a "worm's eye view" of war. His approach made him a popular war correspondent, however, and in 1944 he was awarded a Pulitzer Prize. Like all good writing, one didn't have to be from Texas to appreciate Pyle's story about a soldier from Texas.
Likewise the Scriptures tell the stories of countless people who were but footnotes in the larger scheme of things. One clergyman (Jerry Fuller) has compiled a list, a rather long list, of all the people whose mention in the Bible is restricted to only one or two verses. Briefly mentioned, they walk upon the stage of Scripture, say a word or two, or sometimes nothing, and then recede into the background. And yet they are a primary reason why the Scriptures resonate with us. They are ordinary people, just like us.
Joseph's story is neither unusual nor accidental. It follows immediately upon the genealogy of Jesus, and while the genealogy follows the Dividic royal line, the list contains a real mish-mash of people. In among monarchs, and heroes of the faith, are a foreigner, a prostitute, and an adulteress. It's an authentic genealogy, much like our own.
Aside from Helen T, few of us are going to grace the pages of "Time," much less its cover. Few of us are among the movers and shakers that make headlines and are remembered by history, but God has often done extraordinary things through ordinary people. As Gerhard Frost says, in his poem, "Grounds For Hope":
The Christmas story, after all, is about a vulnerable refugee child born in a stable, yet much of history has turned upon this obscure event.
When, thirty years ago, one of his congregants gave birth to a daughter with Down Syndrome, the pastor sent the parents a Christmas card with these words:
AMEN
"... I know
this is no headline,
but it's a marvelous footnote;
and God comforts me in that."
"Into a world of strength and pride
a child is born, weak and humble,
having no power--
except that power which alone can conquer all others:
Love.
Such was, and is, Christmas." (Jim Swanson)
All quotations of Scripture, unless otherwise noted, are from the New Revised Standard Version.