Recently I heard an
interview with a woman who has written a book called The Last Castle where she tells the story of the Biltmore
House in Asheville. Answering the reporter who asked, “Outside North Carolina,
do people know much about Biltmore House and its connection to the Vanderbilts?”
the author expressed her surprise at how unknown it is, she said,
“When we’re very close
to something, it’s easy to forget that there are people who don’t know anything
about it…There are so many things that we all think we should know, or we think everybody should know, but we don’t.”
She could have been
describing how many of us read these very familiar texts that we have this
morning and tonight in the first two chapters of Luke. After all, who hasn’t
heard the story of the angel coming to Mary and telling her that she will be
the mother of Jesus? Hasn’t everyone seen a living
Nativity, a Christmas play, or at least watched Linus and Charlie Brown at
Christmastime?
But on this last
Sunday of Advent as we move from waiting and expectation to fulfillment, we are
being invited to hear these stories anew.
Speaking to Mary, the
angel Gabriel calls her “favored” but Mary doesn’t immediately hear the
annunciation — the news that she was unexpectedly becoming a young unmarried
mother — as good news,
or evidence of God’s
grace to her.
Instead, she answers
incredulously, “How can this be?”
Reassuring her, Gabriel
describes how “the Holy Spirit will come upon her and the power of the Most
High will overshadow her.” These are not ominous storm clouds or the
frightening shadows one sees in the darkness of night. Instead, they are
references to the covering ascribed to God in the psalms, a shelter of safety
and protection that is given to God’s people (Ps. 90 and 139) and to the cloud that
covered the Israelites’ tent of meeting during the exodus. (Exodus 40) They are
assurances that the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle.
Like the bright cloud
that overshadows the disciples when they hear God speak in gospel accounts of
the Transfiguration, Gabriel is promising that the glory of God is present in
these events.
Hearing God speaking
through the angel, Mary responds with confidence that springs from her faith, saying,
"Here am I, the
servant of the Lord;
let it be with me
according to your word.”
This morning’s
assigned text ends there, but Luke’s account continues with Mary’s visit to
Elizabeth. While both he and Matthew name Mary as the mother of Jesus, only
Luke gives us the stories of the annunciation and Mary’s visit to Elizabeth.
Notably, in this gospel, women are the primary witnesses to both Jesus’ birth
and resurrection.
It isn’t until after
Mary is greeted by her cousin and hears Elizabeth’s excitement for Mary and the
child she is carrying that we hear the Magnificat,
Mary’s song of jubilation
where she sings, “my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.”
While Mary was
certainly set apart, truly God favors us all because God came down to earth in the person of Jesus.
Everything Mary knew — social norms, tradition and custom — was thrown to the wind by the new activity of the
Holy Spirit. In bible study this week, we wondered aloud about times when we
have questioned, “How can this be?” and where God’s favor has surprised us in our own lives.
Sometimes, “How can
this be?” is our response to an unexpected calling. Remember how Abram’s wife
Sarai laughed when God told her to expect a child? Mary’s encounter with Elizabeth illustrates how even
when we experience God’s grace firsthand, we may not believe it until we hear the
affirmation of another person. Mary shows us how to respond to the unknown and unexpected with
confidence, grounded in faith, even as Elizabeth models how to be an encourager
and provide affirmation.
Other times, “How can
this be?” is our response to a changing world that we cannot fully understand. Church
historian and author Diana Butler Bass suggests Christianity may be
experiencing such a time now. It is a time when “some things will cease to
work, no longer make sense, and fail to give comfort or provide guidance.”[i] But she writes that
is isn’t a time to despair or lament; instead she writes “that only means we
have work to do here and now – to find new paths of meaning, new ways to
connect with God and neighbor, and to form new communities and to organize ways
of making the world a better place.”[ii]
So, as we hear these
old, familiar stories this Advent and Christmas, let’s listen anew and ask,
“Where is God coming to us in surprising and unexpected ways?” and “How is God
asking us to give birth to the holy?”[iii]
Let us pray…
Most High God,
Thank you for your
surprising and abundant grace,
for showing us your
favor and coming down to earth in the person of your Son.
Open our eyes to your
holy presence in your invitation to work for your glory, and
Send your Holy Spirit
upon us that we would rejoice and answer You, “Here am I, Lord.”
Amen.
[i] Diana Butler Bass Christianity
after Religion, 31.
[ii] Ibid, 32.
[iii] Feasting on the Gospels--Luke, Volume 1: A Feasting on the Word
Commentary
(Kindle Locations 844-848). Westminster John Knox Press. Kindle Edition.
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