In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was
sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man
whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. And
he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! God is with you.” But she was
much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.
The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favour with
God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a child, whom you will
name Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Child of the Most High,
and God will give to him the throne of
his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his
realm there will be no end.” Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I
am a virgin?” The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and
the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born
will be holy; he will be called Child of God. And now, your relative Elizabeth
in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her
who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.” Then Mary
said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your
word.” Then the angel departed from her.
Will you pray with me? Gracious God of
good surprises, give us wisdom to see your gifts in all things, even when we
don’t believe you could possibly be a part of our lives, when what has happened
seems so far from what you would want or desire for our lives. Open our eyes
and hearts to your grace, not only in the little happenings of our lives, but
in your greatest gift to us, your Child, Jesus the Christ. Amen.
Travelling!
We’ve been on a journey the last few weeks, and now we are at our destination.
We have arrived! But is what we were
looking for? Is it what we thought we wanted?
We are going into a difficult time of
year for me—winter. I’ve never been officially diagnosed with Seasonal
Affective Disorder, but I think I might have a touch of it. Some of the most
difficult experiences of my life have happened in the January – March
timeframe, too, and so those months bring that pain and struggle back to mind. In
February, especially, I find myself taking “cyber-vacations” to lush tropical
islands by surfing all those hotel and B&B websites, fantasizing about
being on those beaches, relaxing beside those pools, walking in those gorgeous
gardens, enjoying the luscious meals they describe, experiencing the night
life… But of course I have to wonder—is it really that good? Or are those
descriptions like real-estate listings, where “cozy and intimate” means, “too
small for more than one person?” Or “ideal for handyman” means “tear it down
and start over?” Or “expansive lawns” means “get a goat and a couple of sheep
to mow the grass?” I’ve read accounts of people who had that experience—the
“full breakfast every day,” meant cold cereal and toast, lukewarm coffee and watery
orange juice; where the rooms looked good in the pictures only because they
were carefully prepped, and you couldn’t smell the musty odour from the closet.
When I lived on the East Coast, we knew the code for beach hotels—“beach front”
meant across the street from the beach, “beach views” meant that if you craned
your neck around the balcony you could catch a glimpse of the beach,” only “on
the beach” really meant that your windows looked out on the beach. But if you
didn’t know the code, you could be sadly disappointed—you didn’t get what you
expected.
On the other hand, there’s the other
experience as well—when you go somewhere not expecting much and are surprised. A
few years ago I was looking for a place to go on a retreat by myself. I didn’t
want anything organised or planned—I had my own reading and praying and
thinking to do, and I didn’t need guidance on it. I just wanted a quiet place
in the country where I could stay, where I could feel God’s presence, where I
could leave behind my responsibilities and simply be open to God’s moving in my
life. I found several places but most of them were places where you had to meet
with a spiritual director to plan even a solo retreat, or they were too close
to a city or too expensive or too primitive or too far away…none were quite
what I wanted. But then I found a location that I thought would do. Absolutely
nothing was specifically organized for people staying there—yoga or art classes
and prayer services were sometimes offered in the evenings, but each person was
free to go or not as they wished. Everyone had their own cottage, and did their
own cooking, so you never had to deal with another person if you didn’t want
to. On the other hand…the cottages looked a little close together, and then I
also wondered about how I would fill up all the time, and it was still three
hours away, but it seemed the best choice. It was not what I expected. Simple
cottages the size of a bachelor apartment, set in the woods around a field and
arranged so that you didn’t see most of the other cottages, gardens and woods
and pathways to walk and explore, a good library at the main building, quiet,
and solitude that was respected. It was everything that I wanted and needed,
but it was not what I expected.
Mary couldn’t have known what to expect.
I mean, simply the fact of an angel showing up must have been confusing—to
start with, how did she know it was an angel? We always think of angels as
having wings and flowing hair, but certainly not all of them do—especially the
ones we meet here on Earth. And then the news—you’re going to have a baby! I’m
sure that Mary did expect to have children—it was just part of a woman’s life
in those days, like going to school these days. But as she points out—she’s
never been with a man. Notice she doesn’t say that she isn’t married—which was
the human scandal, that she was having a baby out of wedlock, and her fiancé
was not the father. She probably would have been forgiven if Joseph had been
the father—a lapse but a forgivable and very common one. I’ve seen statistics
that show that in the 1700s, perhaps 25% of women were pregnant at marriage, as
shown by the fact that their first children were born less than eight months
after they were married. So it was not
really a big deal to simply be pregnant when she was married—but Joseph was not
the father. That was the difficulty and
potential scandal. But Mary’s more focused on the hows, though—how can she
become pregnant?
And I think she must have been
thinking—anyone would be—“how can this be good? God is asking me to do this, so
it must be all right, but how in the world can this be a good thing?”
One of my favourite new Christmas
songs—not a traditional carol—is Mary Did You Know? by Clay Aiken, most
famously sung by Kathy Mattea. I think anyone who has parented—which is all of
us—can identify with the lyrics—we hold a baby and wonder what she or he be
like as an adult, how we can help to raise him or her to be a loving, kind
human being. And we wonder if Mary knew what we know--this infant, this tiny
child is God incarnate. The last line especially, can bring me to tears—“The
sleeping Child you're holding is the Great, I Am.”
There’s been a lot of debate and
discussion about whether Mary is degraded or lifted up in this—whether she is
seen as a walking womb, so to speak, or as a person with a choice and influence
in the situation. Some people will even say that Mary was, in effect, raped by
God—that she had no choice because God is in a position of authority over her
and she doesn’t have the ability to say no to God. I think that view is totally
wrong for two reasons. One is that this is not about biology—if we try to see
this as a physical, biological process, we are on the wrong road. Yes, it is
literal in that a baby was born, but if we try to see this too literally and
try to figure out ways and means, we lose the meaning. Quite without human
means, God came to earth as a baby. How God did that is not something that be
explained or even discussed in human terms, anymore than we can discuss how God
created the earth in literal human terms. Secondly, Mary did have a choice. We
don’t read it in the way the angel makes the announcement—Gabriel seems to
assume a lot—but Mary is not afraid to challenge the angel. She is not prepared
to assume that this can just happen—she accepts it. We always see this in the
Bible—an angel tells someone what God wants them to do—Isaiah in the temple
being told to speak truth to power, David called to be a ruler, Moses told to
go set God’s people free—and they consent. Every one of them says, “Yes, I will
do what God asks of me.” They had a choice. We don’t know what would have
happened if they said no—that’s not our story—but God would have made another
way.
My point here, though, is that Mary said
yes—even though she didn’t quite know what it was all about, she trusted that
God had a purpose and a reason for asking her. She knew the difficulties ahead
of her if she said yes—but she did.
And the result was not what she
expected! Over and over again, God surprised her. Joseph did not abandon her.
Her baby grew up to be a teacher and healer, not the carpenter she expected;
nor did he simply gather students around him as would be expected of a teacher.
He didn’t overthrow the Romans, as she must have thought the Messiah would.
Jesus wasn’t rescued from the cross by an army of angels. And he didn’t stay in
the tomb, either. Over and over God surprises her and us.
God does what God does, and that often
upsets human expectations and wants. It’s not what we expected—but like the
vacation that is even better than you expected and planned for, God’s surprises
always bring us to be more of who we are, nourish us in ways we didn’t know we
needed, and draw us closer to God.
No one who was looking for the Messiah,
who was hoping for God’s help, who struggled under Rome’s rule, who looked at
Israel’s history, could have guessed that God would choose this way to come to
earth. As another new Christmas carol says, “What a strange way to save the
world.” It is not what anyone expected.
In this season of surprises, remember
God’s greatest unexpected gift of all—that baby, laid in a manger, who had come
to be God with us, Emmanuel. The gift
you need from God will be given to you—but it will not be what you expect. It
will be more than you ever hoped for or dreamed of.
In the name of the God who journeys with
us, amen.
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