There has always been a Joseph
There has always been a Mary
He was born a dreamer in a family of practical men.
He was loved, he was betrayed and
By chance, by fate, by design
He rescued his betrayers.
She watched the savior of a nation float down
A foreign river.
From the rushes she watched and waited.
Protector of the destiny the world,
She waited and watched him grow into manhood.
She waited and watched him kill and flee.
She waited and watched as he spoke to the bush
That burned with the Presence
And as he grew into greatness.
Then she danced and sang with abandon as he
Fulfilled his calling.
He was born in poverty to a people of oppression
Yet he was a man used to working at honest labor,
Used to working with his hands.
A man of principle
A man of strong belief
Father to a son not his yet
He raised the child with integrity.
She was young and trusting, faithful.
Too young to be the mother of God.
Too young to understand what it meant,
But old enough to remember and store up wisdom in her heart.
He was an old man, not used to change.
Shifting political climates meant little to him.
He took risks only at the end of his life,
Burying a young radical from the country in a new tomb,
Bringing expensive perfumes and aloes to the grave.
She was a woman of mystery.
But He loved her.
She was the first after the Sabbath to go to the tomb.
She was the first to see the risen God.
She was the first to run and proclaim his resurrection.
Is there a Joseph today? Is there a Mary?
Could it be you? Ah my Lord, could it be me?
-- Theresa Coleman