The King Who Saves

Sermon Title: The King Who Saves

Scripture: Matthew 1:18-25

Occasion: The Lord’s Day

Date: August 31st, 2025

Opening Prayer:

Father in heaven,

We come before You this Lord’s Day with hearts that need Your truth, Your grace, and Your presence.

As we open Your Word, we ask humbly:

What we know not, teach us.

What we are not, make us.

What we have not, give us.

Spirit of God, show us Christ in these verses—our Immanuel, God with us.

Stir our hearts to trust Him, to obey Him, and to treasure Christ.

And may the King who saves be exalted in this place today.

In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.

Introduction

Church family, picture this:

The year is around A.D. 60–65.

Jerusalem is tense—Rome’s heavy hand is pressing down, rebellion is brewing, and in just a few years the Temple will lie in ruins.

Many among God’s people are asking,

“Has the Lord forgotten His promises?

Has the line of David ended?

Where is the Messiah?”

And into that uncertainty, a former tax collector named Matthew picks up his pen.

Matthew was once despised, a man who sold out his people to Rome for profit.

But one day, Jesus walked by his booth and said, “Follow me.”

And Matthew did.

Now, decades later, he writes to show that the promises of God have not failed, that the King has come, and that His kingdom is breaking into the world.

But here’s what is stunning:

The story doesn’t begin in palaces or temples.

It doesn’t begin with trumpets or armies.

It begins with a teenage girl’s pregnancy and a righteous man’s agonizing decision.

What looked like shame and scandal was actually the stage upon which God was bringing salvation to the world.

And brothers and sisters, this matters for us today.

Because just like those first-century Jews, we too wrestle with the same questions:

Has God forgotten me in my suffering?

Can He bring hope out of my shame?

Is He really with me when I feel abandoned, addicted, betrayed, or broken?

Matthew’s answer is a resounding yes!

Because in the birth of Jesus, we see that the kingdom of God does not come through human effort or human expectation—it comes through God’s sovereign power, His saving grace, and His faithful promises fulfilled in Christ.

That is the heartbeat of our passage this morning.

Before we open up our passage, it’s important to see how Matthew has carefully structured his Gospel.

Matthew organizes his Gospel around five great discourses—five mountaintop sermons of Jesus:

The Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5–7) – Kingdom life described.

The Mission Discourse (Matt. 10) – Kingdom messengers sent.

The Parables of the Kingdom (Matt. 13) – Kingdom mysteries revealed.

The Community Discourse (Matt. 18) – Kingdom community shaped.

The Olivet Discourse (Matt. 24–25) – Kingdom consummation promised.

These are framed by two bookends:

His Gospel begins with the birth of Christ (Matt. 1–2) and ends with His death and resurrection (Matt. 26–28).

In other words, the King who teaches is also the King who saves.

And that’s why today’s sermon is entitled:

“The King Who Saves.”

In Matthew 1:18–25, we’re taken right to the beginning of that story—the birth of the King.

But notice how Matthew tells it:

Not as a polished tale, but as a true story filled with tension, decision, and divine intervention.

Matthew gives us three movements—first, the problem Joseph faced (vv.18-19), then the solution God provided (vv.20-21), and finally the fulfillment that changes everything (vv.22-25).

Transition

Matthew doesn’t begin with comfort or clarity, but with a storm of questions and a heart-wrenching dilemma.

And it’s right there—in the confusion, in the tension—that the light of the gospel breaks through.

So let’s begin where Matthew begins: the problem Joseph faced—a righteous man in a scandalous situation (vv. 18–19).

1. The Problem: A Righteous Man, a Scandalous Situation (vv. 18–19)

Matthew writes:

Matthew 1:18–19 ESV

Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly.

The Shock of the Scandal

We need to feel the weight of this.

In Jewish culture, betrothal was not like a modern engagement where breaking it off simply meant returning the ring.

Betrothal was a binding covenant sealed before witnesses, usually arranged when the girl was around twelve and the man was closer to eighteen.

Once betrothed, the couple was legally considered husband and wife, though they lived apart until the wedding.

To dissolve a betrothal required a formal certificate of divorce.

If the man died during this time, the woman was already considered a widow.

So when Matthew says Mary “was found to be with child,” the language suggests her pregnancy became publicly evident.

Joseph, who had not “come together” with her (a clear Greek idiom for marital relations), had every reason to assume she had been unfaithful.

And in that culture, adultery during betrothal was considered as serious as adultery after marriage—it could carry the penalty of stoning under the Mosaic law (Deut. 22:23–24).

Do you see the tension?

Before Jesus even takes His first breath, scandal surrounds His name.

God’s plan of salvation is unfolding—but it looks, to human eyes, like shame.

The Character of Joseph

Matthew calls Joseph “a just man” (Greek: dikaios).

This word carries both legal and spiritual weight.

It means Joseph was faithful to the law of God and upright in his dealings with others.

But Matthew immediately shows us that Joseph’s righteousness is not cold or rigid.

He had two options:

He could expose Mary publicly, bringing her to trial, which would clear his name but ruin hers.

Or he could divorce her quietly, with only two witnesses, which would protect her from disgrace but make him look weak or even complicit.

Joseph chooses the second.

In other words, his righteousness is marked by both truth and mercy.

He cannot ignore what looks like sin, but he will not weaponize the law to destroy Mary.

This is remarkable.

Because most of us, when our reputation is on the line, will do almost anything to protect it.

Think about the workplace: when a project falls apart, the natural reflex is to make sure everyone knows it wasn’t your fault—“I sent the email, I turned in my part, don’t blame me.”

We instinctively scramble to clear our name and shield ourselves from blame.

But Joseph doesn’t do that.

Though he could have stood on the law to vindicate himself, he chose the path of quiet mercy.

He would rather take the hit himself than publicly shame Mary.

That’s not natural—that’s godliness-that’s a spirit wrought work!

This is a righteousness that mirrors the heart of God Himself:

Justice that does not compromise truth, yet mercy that refuses to crush the broken.

A Deeper Layer: Bearing the Shame Himself

One detail that most readers miss:

By choosing to divorce Mary quietly, Joseph would have absorbed the social shame himself.

If Mary’s pregnancy was unexplained and he did not bring formal charges, people would assume one of two things:

Either Joseph himself was the father, or he was too weak to defend his own honor.

In both cases, Joseph’s reputation would suffer.

Matthew wants us to see this:

Joseph is willing to take the blame to shield Mary from public disgrace.

That is not just kindness—it is a faint foreshadowing of Christ Himself, who would later take on the shame and guilt of His bride, the church, to save her.

As Bonhoeffer put it,

“Substitution is not only doctrinal truth, done supremely by Christ, but ethical truth, done by Christians when they bear the guilt of others.”

Joseph lived this before he ever understood the full gospel.

Application

For the self-righteous:

Joseph warns us that righteousness is not mere legalism.

Some of us pride ourselves on standing for truth, but if our “truth” lacks mercy, it is not the righteousness of God.

For the broken:

Notice this—God chose to bring His Son into the world through scandal.

He was not embarrassed to enter into the mess of a confusing pregnancy, whispered rumors, and social shame.

That means He is not embarrassed to enter your story either.

No matter your past, your sin, your shame—Christ is not ashamed to call you His own.

For the church:

Joseph models for us how to deal with sin in others—not by excusing it, and not by publicly shaming, but by handling it with truth and mercy, seeking to protect and restore wherever possible.

Illustration

In ancient Jewish weddings, there was a ceremony called the “taking” of the bride.

On the wedding night, the groom would make his way in joyful procession to the bride’s home, take her by the hand, and lead her in joy to his father’s house.

But here, instead of joy, Joseph contemplates a “sending away of his betrothed, Mary.”

Think about that reversal:

The very one chosen to bring the Messiah into the world must consider losing his bride.

And yet, how fitting—for this points us forward to the greater Bridegroom, Jesus, who would one day lay down His life to win His bride forever.

As Paul writes, ‘Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her’ (Ephesians 5:25).

But friends don’t miss this-this a picture of the tension we all live in under the curse of sin—broken promises, broken trust, broken hearts.

And yet it is in this brokenness that God brings His Son.

Transition to Point Two

Joseph has done all he knows to do.

He seeks to honor the law and show mercy, but even his righteousness cannot resolve the dilemma.

And that is the point: even the most righteous among us cannot fix the problem of sin.

We need God to intervene.

And in verses 20–21, that’s exactly what happens—we see the solution God provided-God’s sovereign grace in Christ.

2. The Solution: God’s Sovereign Grace in Christ (vv. 20–21)

Matthew writes:

Matthew 1:20–21 ESV

But as he considered these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”

Divine Intervention in Joseph’s Dilemma

The timing is striking.

Verse 20 tells us, “But as he considered these things…”

Joseph has already resolved in his heart to do the most merciful thing he can think of—divorce Mary quietly.

His decision was noble, but it was also based on incomplete knowledge.

Into this moment of reflection, God interrupts through an angelic dream.

The word “behold” (ἰδού) at the start of verse 20 is a divine exclamation mark—Matthew’s way of telling us, “Pay attention! God is about to act.”

Dreams were a common way God revealed His will in the Old Testament (Gen. 28:12; Num. 12:6; Dan. 2:3).

Matthew deliberately ties Joseph’s dream to that biblical pattern.

This is not wishful thinking; it is revelation.

And notice what the angel says: “Joseph, son of David.”

This title is used elsewhere in Matthew almost exclusively of Jesus.

But here it is applied to Joseph, reminding him of his royal lineage.

Why?

Because Joseph’s obedience in naming Jesus will legally insert Jesus into the Davidic line.

By adoption, the Son of Mary becomes the heir of David’s throne.

The Holy Spirit’s Creative Power

The angel continues:

“Do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.”

Fear made sense.

If Joseph took Mary as his wife, everyone would assume the child was his, conceived outside of covenant faithfulness.

His reputation would collapse.

But the angel insists:

The child is not evidence of sin—it is evidence of the Spirit.

Matthew emphasizes this twice (vv. 18, 20):

Jesus is conceived “from the Holy Spirit.”

This is deliberate.

The Spirit is not only the source of Jesus’ human life but also the sign that a new creation has begun.

Just as the Spirit hovered over the waters at the beginning of the world (Gen. 1:2), so now He hovers over Mary’s womb to bring forth the One who will make all things new.

Think about that:

The same Spirit who formed the world out of chaos is now forming the Savior out of scandal.

The Name Above Every Name

Verse 21 brings us to the climax:

“She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”

The name “Jesus” (Iēsous) is the Greek form of the Hebrew Yeshua, short for Yehoshua, meaning “Yahweh saves.”

Ancient Hebrew names often carried theological weight, functioning as short prayers.

In fact, some suggest mothers in childbirth would cry out, “Yahweh help!” and give their child a name like Yeshua as a living testimony of answered prayer.

But Matthew pushes deeper.

He makes a wordplay:

“You will name Him ‘God Saves,’ because He Himself will save His people from their sins.”

In Greek, the emphasis is on He Himself (autos)—Jesus, and no one else.

Salvation belongs to the Lord (Ps. 3:8; Jonah 2:9), and now the Lord has come in flesh.

This child will do what only God can do—save His people from their sins.

And note this:

Matthew shocks his audience.

First-century Jews longed for deliverance from Rome, not necessarily from sin.

The common expectation was a Messiah who would bring political liberation, not personal redemption.

But Jesus’ mission goes to the root—He comes not to rearrange governments but to conquer guilt, not to overthrow Caesar but to overthrow sin.

This is why the name Jesus is not just historical—it is personal.

It declares your greatest need and God’s greatest provision: salvation from sin.

Application

For the weary:

We often think our biggest problem is outside us—our broken marriage, our addiction, our poverty, our sickness.

But the Bible says the deepest problem is inside us—our sin.

And Jesus came to deal with that.

For the religious:

Many want a Jesus who saves from trouble but not from guilt.

But the real Jesus refuses to be reduced to a social activist or life coach.

His name tells you His mission—He is Savior from sin.

For the hopeful:

Notice: this salvation is certain.

“He will save His people from their sins.”

Not might, not could, BUT WILL!

That is sovereign grace in it’s truest sense.

Illustration

In 1738, John Wesley attended a meeting in Aldersgate Street where someone read aloud Luther’s commentary on Romans.

As he listened, Wesley wrote,

“I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation, and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine.”

That moment captures Matthew 1:21.

The gospel is not vague.

It is not for “them” out there.

It is for you.

Transition to Point Three

So in Joseph’s crisis, God intervenes with sovereign grace—declaring the child’s divine origin, His royal destiny, and His saving mission.

But Matthew doesn’t stop there.

He shows us that this salvation is more than forgiveness—it is the very presence of God.

Which leads us to verses 22–25: Our third and final point- the fulfillment that changes everything -God with us, the Savior of His people.

3. The Fulfillment: God With Us, the Savior of His People (vv. 22–25)

Matthew writes:

Matthew 1:22–25 ESV

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet: “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel” (which means, God with us). When Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him: he took his wife, but knew her not until she had given birth to a son. And he called his name Jesus.

God’s Hand in History

Matthew pauses here to remind us that what looks like chaos is actually fulfillment.

He uses his first “fulfillment formula” in verse 22—“All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken…”

This is one of ten times in Matthew’s Gospel where he points to Old Testament prophecy and says: This is that.

Matthew is making a theological claim:

History is not random; God is directing every detail toward His promises.

The prophecy in Isaiah 7:14, originally given to King Ahaz, promised a miraculous sign to the house of David—that a virgin would conceive and bear a son called Immanuel.

While there may have been a partial sign in Isaiah’s day, Matthew makes clear:

The true and final fulfillment is here in the virgin conception of Christ.

What does that mean for us?

It means the God who promised centuries earlier was faithful to bring His word to pass at just the right time.

And the same God is faithful to His promises today.

Immanuel—The With-Us God

The heart of this passage is the name Immanuel, which Matthew translates for us: “God with us.”

In Hebrew it literally means, “With us [is] God.”

Matthew even intensifies it by adding the definite article:

“with us THE God”.

That is breathtaking.

Not just a god, not just divine help, but the God—the Creator, the Holy One—come near.

This is more than poetry.

In Jesus, God has drawn near in the flesh.

He has not remained distant, nor has He sent an angel or prophet to save.

He Himself has come down to dwell with His people.

It is a continuation of God’s presence in the garden, in the tabernacle, in the temple, in the Shekinah glory.

But now, that presence is embodied in the person of Christ!

And notice Matthew’s artistry:

The Gospel begins with “God with us” (1:23) and ends with Jesus saying, “I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (28:20).

The presence of God is the bookend of the Christian life.

Friend, that means you never step outside His presence—whether you’re sitting in a pew on Sunday or sitting in the ashes of your worst failure on Monday.

Example of my Kiddos:

I remember when Leo was little, and even when my other kids were younger, storms at night would terrify them.

The thunder would shake the windows, lightning would flash across the room, and fear would grip their little hearts.

But the moment I walked into the room, sat by their bed, and laid my hand on their shoulder—the storm didn’t stop, but their fear did.

Why?

Because presence changes everything!

And that is what Matthew is telling us here:

Immanuel—God with us.

The storms of life may rage, shame may whisper, suffering may linger, but the hand of Christ rests on His people.

This is why Martin Luther could sing:

“Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed, For I am thy God, and will still give thee aid; I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.”

Friend, you never step outside His presence in Christ.

From the first cry of faith to the last breath of life, Jesus brackets your story with Himself:

God with us… God with you… always.

Joseph’s Obedience

Finally, look at Joseph.

Verse 24 says,

“When Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him.”

Joseph responds with immediate obedience.

No delay, no excuses.

He marries Mary, protects her, and names the child Jesus—legally adopting Him into David’s royal line.

In that simple act of naming, Joseph secures Jesus’ identity as the rightful Son of David.

Joseph models for us that true faith is not just believing God’s Word but obeying it, even when it costs reputation, comfort, or clarity.

Faith is not merely intellectual agreement; it is costly obedience.

As Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said,

“Only he who believes is obedient, and only he who is obedient believes.”

Joseph’s faith was proven not by what he said, but by what he did.

God calls us, like Joseph, to trust His Word even when it defies appearances, even when it costs us reputation, even when obedience will be misunderstood.

Joseph shows us that genuine faith says “yes” to God before it sees how everything will work out.

And that is where most of us hesitate.

We want the map before we start the journey, the answers before we take the step.

But faith doesn’t work that way.

Faith trusts the God who holds the future, even when we cannot see past today.

Think about it—God calls us to forgive someone who has wounded us, but we delay because we can’t see how healing could ever come.

He prompts us to give or serve sacrificially, but we hold back until we’ve calculated every risk.

We want certainty before obedience.

But Joseph shows us the better way—faith says “yes” first, because the presence of God with us is our greatest assurance, and it is worth infinitely more than the fleeting approval of people around us.

Its the presence of God that gave Joseph the confidence to obey.

Its the presence of God friends, that fuels our obedience even when it costs us something.

Real-Life Example

In 2010, you may remember the story of the Chilean miners who were trapped deep underground.

For 69 days they lived in darkness, with the world watching.

When rescuers finally broke through, they didn’t drop down a message of encouragement—they sent a man down to be with them and bring them out.

That’s the difference between religion and the gospel, friends.

Religion shouts advice from above.

The gospel says:

Immanuel—God with us.

He came down to where we are to bring us up to where He is.

God with us changes everything!

Transition to Conclusion

So Matthew shows us:

The problem Joseph faced, the solution God provided, and now the fulfillment of prophecy—God with us.

The King has come, and He has come near.

And when the King comes near, it always demands a response.

Conclusion: The King Who Saves

Joseph responded with costly faith.

He said “yes” to God before he knew how the story would unfold, because he trusted that God’s presence was better than man’s approval.

And that’s exactly where this text leaves us.

Immanuel is not just a name to study—it is a reality to embrace.

God has drawn near in Christ, not to offer advice from a distance but to enter our shame, bear our sin, and call us His own.

And now the question is not only what Joseph did, but what you will do.

Will you say “yes” to the King who saves?

Will you trust Him when obedience costs you?

Will you bow before Him when His way is harder than yours?

Will you believe that His presence with you is greater treasure than all the approval this world could ever offer?

Church, the King has come.

He is with us.

And because He is with us, the only fitting response is to come to Him in faith, to follow Him in obedience, and to rejoice in Him as our Savior.

So hear the call: Bow before the King.

Trust Him.

Follow Him.

Rejoice in Him.

Treasure Him.

For He is Immanuel—God with us.

I’ll say it again so it sinks in:

Bow before the King.

Trust Him.

Follow Him.

Rejoice in Him.

Treasure Him.

For He is Immanuel—God with us.

Transition to the Lord’s Supper:

And now, church, we respond to this King not only with our lips but with our lives.

We come to the Table—not to earn His presence, but to remember it.

Here in bread and cup, we proclaim that Immanuel has come, that His body was broken and His blood poured out to save His people from their sins.

As Joseph obeyed in faith, so we now take and eat in faith, saying “yes” to the One who is forever God with us.

PRAY

Father,

We thank You that in Jesus, You have drawn near—Immanuel, God with us.

We thank You that He came not in pomp or power, but in humility and obedience, to bear our shame and save us from our sins.

As Joseph said “yes” in costly faith, so now we say “yes” as we come to this Table.

Feed us with the body and blood of Christ.

Strengthen our faith, deepen our obedience, and fill us with joy, that we might treasure Him above all.

For He is the King who saves, and He is with us.

And we thank You, Lord, that this Table not only looks back to the cross, but forward to the day when Christ will come again.

On that day, faith will give way to sight, and we will feast with Him forever at the marriage supper of the Lamb.

Until then, keep us faithful, keep us hopeful, and keep us longing for His return.

In the name of Jesus, our Immanuel, we pray. Amen.