His name was Joseph. And for him, it was probably an ordinary day.
“The angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee, named Nazareth, to a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary.”
When we meet Joseph in the first chapter of the Gospel of Luke, we meet him in the context of the annunciation. The main players of the scene are, of course, the angel Gabriel and the Virgin Mary. Joseph of the House of David is mentioned as the Virgin’s betrothed, almost as a side-note. It is as if he was probably ordinary. An ordinary Joe.
It isn’t until the second chapter that Joseph steps into the action, so to speak, with the Christmas narrative we all know so well. But in that first chapter, he’s just Joseph. Mary’s betrothed. David’s descendant, sure, but there were certainly many such fellas.
We look at this story now, and we know that on that day, Joseph was standing on the edge of an earthquake in human history. But we know what happens next.
From Joseph’s point of view, at this part of the narrative, he is on the edge of a great disruption, but certainly, he could not foresee it. After all, it was likely just an ordinary day.
Was he laboring in his workshop when Mary spoke to an angel? Was he delivering a product to a customer when Gabriel announced the Incarnation of God? Was he shooting the breeze with a co-worker when all of Israel’s hopes were being fulfilled?
As far as Joseph knew, he was about to be married. His life had something of a knowable trajectory. Predictable. Ordinary.
Joseph’s remarkable calling was being unfolded into human history, a calling that would carry him into a divine drama.
But as far as he knew, it was a day like any other.
Ordinary.
It was an ordinary day, but God was at work. Powerfully.
Now, consider: today is also an ”ordinary day.”