Brief synopsis of the readings: We continue with Isaiah. God, speaking to Ahaz, asked Ahaz to ask for a sign. Horrified, Ahaz refused saying he will not tempt the Lord. God responds by telling Ahaz that he will give a sign anyway: “the virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall name hiim Emmanuel.” Matthew, in his Gospel, recounts the story of Jesus’ birth, and more to the point, the role of Joseph. When Joseph found out Mary was pregnant he elected not to call her out publicly but instead quietly divorce her. But in a dream an angel came to Joseph and explained that this child was conceived by the Holy Spirit, and recounts the passage from Isaiah we read in the first reading. On awaking, Joseph took Mary into her house.

Can you imagine God coming to and instructing you to ask for a sign? Speaking only for myself, I’d be thrilled. I’ve been a disciple my entire life, and given my path in life you could say I’ve pushed all my chips on the table. If Jesus is not the savior of the world and redeemed us from our sin, I’ve made a terrible mistake. And as much as I value the power of faith, I would love to have a sign in my back pocket. It wouldn’t need to be big thing. I wouldn’t ask for a new BMW to appear in front of me or for instant completion of a job God wants us to do (e.g. end hunger). Maybe God could stop the sun for an hour or so right at sunrise.

So why on earth was Ahaz so horrified? I have a few ideas. Perhaps Ahaz feared that God couldn’t create a sign. This may sound far fetched but given the historical context it’s not as crazy as it sounds. While God announced in Exodus that he is a jealous God and nobody is permitted to worship other gods, it didn’t necessarily mean there weren’t other gods. We generally feel that worshipping other gods is a bad idea simply because no other gods exist. But this reading comes to us at a time shortly before they were conquered by Babylon and exiled, and many at that time feared that God was defeated by another, stronger god. Perhaps Ahaz feared God was making promises He couldn’t keep.

Or perhaps Ahaz just felt overwhelmed and thought God didn’t want to ask for a sign. And if we’re going to be honest, we can all make offers we pray the other person doesn’t accept. We say: “You don’t have to visit me in the hospital” when you crave a visit. Or, “We’ll be find if you spend the holidays with your spouse’s family” when you know how hurt you’ll be. Maybe this explained Ahaz’s reluctance.

Or maybe it’s something much, much deeper. As long as we have faith, and little or no proof, we find it easy to believe what we’re told. We all grew up believing that Adam and Eve were the first humans (created differently from all other primates), that Noah’s Ark was a historical event, and that Methuselah lived to be 969 years old. But as we matured and learned more about our faith, we came to recognize that our faith needed to include harsh realities.

We learned that we evolved to become human. We learned that Noah’s Ark was not a historical event, but was instead a parable (much like the parable of the prodigal son). We learned that nobody lived to be 969 years old. My first reaction, as I grew and learned, was puzzlement, and some fear. If this isn’t true, then what is? But through the patience of my teachers I learned that my faith can include these realities and even grow from them.

But this is far from a universal understanding. Large numbers of Christians describe themselves as fundamentalists and hold the same beliefs they held as children. They live in fear that if Noah’s Ark didn’t happen, then nothing of their faith is true. There is no nuance, no gray area, no sense that God exists even if Noah’s Ark didn’t.

I’m saying this because I learned something a few years ago that continues to trouble me. The bright shiny line between Isaiah and Matthew centers on the line: “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel.” This is generally seen as proof that Jesus is the Messiah. But it’s more complicated.

Isaiah wrote in Hebrew and the word he used for virgin was “almah” which means “young woman.” It does not necessarily mean virgin. But Matthew was reading from a Greek translation of Isaiah, and the Hebrew word “almah” was translated to the Greek word “parthenos” which does mean virgin.

So where does that leave us? Well, many non Christians point to this as proof that Jesus wasn’t the Messiah and we are all fools to believe in him. Others, perhaps some who are reading this, insist that almah does mean virgin and people like me are trying to lead good people astray.

But I’d like to choose another path. For centuries we’ve believed that sex was evil and that fact that we were conceived by sexual intercourse meant we were conceived in sin. Jesus, the perfect person, was conceived without intercourse, and therefore without sin.

But if Jesus was conceived the same way as all of us, does that mean he can’t be the Messiah? If Jesus had a biological father who is lost to history, does that mean that nothing of our faith is true?

I hope not. I pray our faith is strong enough and mature enough to accept that Matthew was mistaken in his reading of Isaiah. Matthew wrote to his fellow Jews to show them that Jesus was the Messiah and seeing the word parthenos seemed like a slam dunk.

But this doesn’t mean he (and the other Gospel writers) were mistaken about Jesus. Our mature and growing journey of faith often calls us to accept things we may not fully understand. So let us not choose the path of childish faith, nor the path of disbelievers. Let us instead choose the hard, complicated path that welcomes truth. Or, in the words of St. Anselme, let us seek not to understand that we may believe but instead believe that we may understand.