A Humble Response

I watch a fair number of medical dramas on TV. Some include ambulance staff, while others focus on those working in the medical facilities. In both instances, the first responders are the ones who set the tone for those in crisis. They often express an almost unrealistic amount of patience and compassion. They always know the right things to say and the right actions to take.

As I was reading John Pavlovitz’s devotional, Low, I was struck by his description of Mary as, “the first responder for those of us who seek to emulate Jesus in the world.”
Here is the passage from Luke 1:26-38 to refresh our memory:

26 In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth, 27 to a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. And the virgin's name was Mary. 28 And he came to her and said, “Greetings, O favored one, the Lord is with you!”  29 But she was greatly troubled at the saying, and tried to discern what sort of greeting this might be. 30 And the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. 31 And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. 32 He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, 33 and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”
34 And Mary said to the angel, “How will this be, since I am a virgin?”

35 And the angel answered 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 called holy—the Son of God. 36 And behold, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son, and this is the sixth month with her who was called barren. 37 For nothing will be impossible with God.” 38 And Mary said, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.” And the angel departed from her.

Other than the prophets, Mary is the first one to receive details about the Messiah. At first, she is troubled by the angel’s presence—I think anyone would be! I actually find it miraculous that Mary was able to take in anything the angel Gabriel said after, “Do not be afraid; God has found favor with you.” Dialogue and recognition with the Most High was role for the men in her community. How did God even know who she was?

Nothing the angel said indicated this baby would grow up with the character of a servant, but it is Mary’s response that first sets the tone for how this Savior might be different than everyone thought. Whatever looks of surprise were on Mary’s face during this exchange, her response is one of both humility and expectation.
From the Message translation (v.38):

Yes, I see it all now:
    I’m the Lord’s maid, ready to serve.
Let it be with me
    just as you say.

None of us are given a road map for our faith, and even angel-visited Mary is not given much direction beforehand. If she had known about all the hardship in her future, would she have accepted God’s plan so readily?

Pavlovitz writes:
“Mary was asked to literally carry and deliver the love of God to a planet in dire need of such a thing. She willingly accepted the collateral damage of bearing goodness in a time and place in which doing so would prove difficult.”

I named this week Rejection and Refinement. And it makes me wonder at the way God uses the hard things in life to mold us to be more like Him. Imagine if Mary had been a princess in a palace, instead of a peasant in a backwater town no one thought much of. Every need of hers would have been met. It would have been so easy to hide a pre-marriage pregnancy behind wealthy curtains and royal walls.

While there’s nothing wrong with that version of Mary, it doesn’t show a weary world how God operates. He chooses the lowly to lift up; the poor to bless. Friendships could have been lost. By law, Mary could have been stoned for her apparent infidelity. Joseph could have gone through with his plan to quietly dissolve their betrothal and Mary would be left with no prospects for a future home and family. The same Mary and Joseph who faced massive societal rejection were seen by God. He chose them. And he allowed them to walk the hard path, demonstrating with divine intimacy what it meant that their child would be called Immanuel.

When adult Jesus preached about caring for the widows and the orphans, I wonder if he thought about his mother. At the beginning of this story, Mary is not a widow and pre-born Jesus is not an orphan, but according their position in society, they might as well have been. And so God cared for them. And He continued to care for them and showed the way when they arrived in bustling Bethlehem with no room for them at the Inn.

Another rejection. This time in the city of their ancestors! In a time when hospitality was paramount. But I don’t think this was a mistake. Once again, we see Mary and Joseph as first responders with humility and grace.

I recently read a new Nativity picture book, The Good News of Christmas, by Rousseaux Brasseur and Sian James. It has a lovely rhyming cadence and beautiful illustrations. I was struck by their version of this scene:

“When they arrived they found there was no lodging at the inn,
So Jospeh search around the town for a resting place for them.
He finally found a stable where the animals were kept,
And, about to faint, without complaint, they laid down there and slept."

We don’t know what went through their minds, or what words were said, but Mary and Joseph had trusted God’s provision thus far, amidst worse rejection and unwelcoming behavior. And we can’t fault their kinsfolk completely. Bethlehem was swarming with people for Caesar’s census. The hospitable circumstances must have changed because Mary and Joseph chose to stay in Bethlehem for another couple years, until the last example of rejection in this Nativity story:

10 When they [the wise men] saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy. 11 And going into the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh. 12 And being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed to their own country by another way.

13 Now when they had departed, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Rise, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” 14 And he rose and took the child and his mother by night and departed to Egypt 15 and remained there until the death of Herod.
(Matthew 2:10-15)

The prophets foretold that the Messiah would be despised and forsaken, but as a baby? To be rejected three times before you were three years old? It seems like such a unnecessary part of Jesus’ beginning. But if we’ve learned anything about God’s unexpected plan for the Messiah, we know that Jesus’ low arrival and circumstances as a refugee are exactly what make Him the refuge we need as weary travelers looking for a place to belong. May we learn to respond like Mary and Joseph.

Wonderful Counselor, the Lord with You

But there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish.
In the former time he brought into contempt
the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali,
but in the latter time he has made glorious the way of the sea,
the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations.
The people who walked in darkness
    have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
    on them has light shone. . .

For to us a child is born,
    to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
    and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and of peace
    there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom,
    to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
    from this time forth and forevermore.
The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this.
- Isaiah 9:1-2, 6-7 

Today is the first Sunday of Advent. Today I light the candle of Jesus as our Wonderful Counselor.

This passage above is part of a full oracle given by the prophet Isaiah. It was a message delivered during a dark period in Israel’s history with both contemporary and future foretellings. With their enemies growing in strength, the people of God could not tell if the Lord was for them, against them, or if He had abandoned them to their fears. So Isaiah speaks into their desperation, prophesying about a grim future of defeat, exile, and return. But amid his bleak forecasts, Isaiah also delivers a sign from God.

Writers at the Zondervan Academic blog reflect on Isaiah 9:6, saying,

“Included [are] two prophetic visions of a child who would represent God’s presence, embody his characteristics, and bear the responsibility of governing his people.

Two chapters before Isaiah says “For unto us a child is born,” he prophesied the birth child whose name would signify the presence of God: 'Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.' (Isaiah 7:14)”

In Luke’s gospel, we read of the Angel Gabriel visiting a young woman named Mary. His words echo that promise given seven centuries before. However, it is not just the angel’s description of this child — “He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.” (Luke 1:32-33)—that channel Isaiah’s prophetic words.

We all know that angels begin their messages with proclamations of “Fear not!” or “Do not be afraid!”, yet before that reassurance, Gabriel says something important we often miss. I don’t know why I’ve never noticed it before. He says, “Greetings, O favored one, the Lord is with you!” (Luke 1:28b).

In her book, Awaiting the Manger, Ocieanna Fleiss explores the “whispers of Advent in the Old Testament.” Reflecting on how Eve may have responded to God’s promise following the first sin in the Garden. She says,

“Only God could repair the broken fellowship, and we first glimpse his rescue plan in these words he spoke to the serpent, ‘I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel’ (Genesis 3:15).

In these puzzling words, we find the whisper of a promise. Someday—tomorrow? Next week? Far in the future? Adam and Eve didn’t know when, but they did know that through his suffering, he would free them from the doom of hopeless wandering. They would walk with their Father once again.

But that was all they knew.

‘Send him soon,’ I imagine Eve prayed as she left the garden. ‘Yes, soon Lord.’

Millenia passed, and then, to a daughter of Eve an angel came. This angel was unlike those who wielded the flaming swords blocking entrance to the Father’s presence—instead, this angel announced the way to be with God again. 'Greetings, O favored one, the Lord is with you' (Luke 1:28). Did you see that? The Immanuel promise was right there in the greeting. 'The Lord is with you.' Finally! Finally, he would arrive—the one who would crush the serpent’s head, endure the fiery sword, and usher us into sweet fellowship once again.”

I recently learned that the Hebrew word for waiting, qāvâ (you can read more on the Blue Letter Bible website), has a meaning rooted in being intertwined. It holds connotations of endurance and strength like a length of twisted rope.

From the beginning in the Garden of Eden, God intended beautiful and complete communion with His creation. But then sin entered the world and a rift was made. We read above about the Lord’s promise regarding the serpent’s offspring and the woman’s offspring. But God went on to reveal a new reality full of painful child bearing, imbalanced partnerships between men and women, and hard labor for daily sustenance. From then on, Adam and Eve and all their descendants have been plagued by having to wait. Yet God never abandoned His people. Every step from the Garden to the Manger, and from the Manger to the Cross has been full of God’s new plan to mend, and heal, and make whole that which was lost.

After Malachi’s last prophecy, Israel spent 400 years of thinking God was finished making and keeping promises. Yet He was just getting started with the biggest Answer history had ever seen. The Angel Gabriel is sent to a small village called Nazareth and God leads him to a young woman named Mary. Just like her ancestor David, she is favored. God has sought her out. All of Israel’s waiting has not been in vain.

This Immanuel is indeed a Wonderful Counselor, sent by the Father to show His people the way of Light and Life.

The Good Portion

The theme of this third week is Preparing.

I borrowed this quartet of themes (Waiting, Anticipating, Preparing, Celebrating), and to be honest, I’ve had a hard time incorporating them into my writings. They are a little unfamiliar. But sometimes the unfamiliar can shake us up a bit. A new perspective can help gain insight.

Thinking about the theme of preparing, my mind immediately goes to shopping lists, recipes, and in my own particular career—library storytime planning. I spend a large chunk of my workdays finding engaging read-aloud picture books, designing flannel stories, and selecting relevant songs and rhymes—all to educate and entertain. The finished product is so much the better for my well-organized plan. The structure helps regular attendees learn the songs and rhymes with ease. The careful selection accommodates childrens’ ages and backgrounds. Everything from the time of day and room setting to the length of time and volume is intentional. Everything has a purpose.

And that makes me think of the Master Orchestrator of our well-known Advent narrative. Our God is a God who prepares. Not because He couldn’t snap His fingers for everything He has designed to instantly appear. No, God prepares because everything He does is building, layer upon layer, towards His plan for humanity’s salvation.

In her fifth day Advent devotional, “No Random Days,” Hannah Brencher writes, “Our God is a God who orchestrates redemption stories. He is constantly up to something. Where we see random days, God sees hidden pockets of purpose. Where we see random lines in a story, God reads between those lines and fills our days with hidden meanings.”

Now, here’s the flip-side of a life-style drenched in preparation. It’s something we commonly see during the holidays. In the hustle and bustle of exerting all our energies for one special day, we neglect to be present. It can become impossible to see God’s “pockets of purpose” when we are so busy preparing for a purposeful day.

I wonder how things would have looked for Mary and Joseph if God hadn’t prepared a place for them in Bethlehem—a place in which most of their autonomy was removed. Would the days leading up to Jesus’ birth have been so full of preparations and ministrations that they missed the significance of the day?

In a town filled to the brim with people registering for the census, they didn’t get to arrange the perfect birthing room. Sharing a dwelling with livestock, there was only one choice for a crib. They only had one option to clean and wrap the baby. They didn’t get to decide who would be the first to visit their newborn son. They didn’t even get to select his name. All these preparations were made by bigger Hands.

Maybe in the moment, Mary was frustrated and anxious. The angel hadn’t said anything about this part of birthing God’s Son! But later in chapter 2, Luke records that she “treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart” (v.19). Mary had a lot to ponder. She had not been able to prepare for this day’s practical details. But she had prepared her heart for the magnitude of this role with each faith-filled step towards Bethlehem. She responded to God’s call with joy and hope. She had sought the wisdom and encouragement of her cousin, Elizabeth. She had trusted in a God who is mindful and mighty and full of mercy (from the Magnificat, Luke 1:46-55).

This brings to mind the story of Mary and Martha:

Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:38-42)

I don’t know if this was so much mother Mary’s choice as God’s orchestrating, but like her name-twin, Mary indeed chose the good portion.

This season, may our Advent preparations include the quiet actions of both Marys. Treasuring and pondering, mother Mary looked to the manger, awed by tiny baby feet who would one day save the world. Sitting at adult Jesus’ feet, sister Mary listened, welcoming the Lord into her home through meaningful patience and praise.

Anchor of Hope

I want to explore something I haven’t had time to research or think about; a topic I may blunder a bit. I also want to be cognizant of the women (and men) who reading these thoughts may be triggered by current or former pain. You are seen and loved.

In her chapter on Mary, Kelly Nikondeha makes a brief comment about the gospel writer’s contrast between Mary’s virginity with Elizabeth’s barrenness (p.46). I don’t know if I have ever picked up on that comparison before. Both circumstances bring to mind a sense of longing, and buried pain. We may immediately feel more empathy for Elizabeth who had dealt with unexplainable infertility for her whole married life. Possibly Mary’s longing was rooted in her desire for the protection of a husband in the tough and wild landscape of Roman-run Galilee. Only, before her marriage could be finalized, she was “found to be with child”—a scandalous offense, and the very opposite of security in the home of a husband. Scripture doesn’t tell us much about how Mary was treated when her family and community found out she was expecting a baby outside of marriage (I wonder if they would have even wrapped their minds around the idea at her still being a virgin—that wasn’t how biology worked), but we don’t have to look far to understand the cultural expectations of the time.

For both women, virginity (though pregnant) and barrenness were huge burdens to bear.

We aren’t given a glimpse at Elizabeth’s mind and heart prior to hearing Zechariah’s message from the Angel Gabriel, but during her confinement she remarks, “The Lord has done this for me. In these days he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people.” (Luke 1:25). Being the wife of a priest, she held some regard in her own rite. But in a culture so centered on the blessing of children, surely her childlessness was a topic of shameful gossip among her neighbors.

Even after receiving news of such a miraculous promise and beginning to feel the quivering of a baby in her womb, a lesser woman would have held doubt and pessimism. Thoughts like, “this is too good to be true,” or “I don’t deserve this” could have swum through her mind.

Yet, when Mary comes to visit Elizabeth, we are told in Luke’s gospel that Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaims: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!” (Luke 1:41-45)

Her joy is doubled. And it is infectious. (The Holy Spirit was definitely helping a lot.) Mary’s next words (according to the writing of Luke’s gospel) are what we call the Magnificat—from the Latin, “My soul magnifies the Lord.” Instead of laying out a litany of her woes: scary visit from an angel, pregnant before being with Joseph, Joseph wanting to divorce her (though graciously quietly), any and all scorn from her community, Mary only has praise for her Lord.

In her Advent devotional, The Season of Waiting (and waiting, and waiting . . .) writer, professor, and speaker Kate Bowler explains longing as “the experience of feeling the lack, the recognition, that things are not as they should be” (p. 18). She describes this as the quintessential feeling of Advent. “Advent recognizes the absence of peace, yet the exquisite certainty of its coming” (p. 19).

On this eve before the third week of Advent, I wonder at the ways God prepared Mary and Elizabeth for their separate “comings.” We aren’t privy to their inner thoughts, their hopes and dreams; only the way they choose to respond.

In this case, their actions speak louder than their words (and their words are glorious!)

The virginity of Mary and the barrenness of Elizabeth aren’t perfect opposites, but their contrast can help us see God’s response to all of our waitings, especially those rooted in “groanings too deep for words” (Romans 8:26).

I’ll end with this from Kate Bowler’s devotional:

“Sometimes in the darkness, we dare not hope because it feels too expensive.
There is no energy available for that, humanly speaking.
But hope isn’t wishful thinking.
It’s an anchor into the future.
Because of this, we can bless even our darkening days,
knowing that the earth will once again tilt toward the light.
And it will be a glory that blazes everywhere,
though now we catch only glimpses.
In the meantime, and that’s what we have—the meantime—
let’s come into the light and bless the waiting, because it will not be in vain” (p.22).

Mary and Elizabeth’s pain was redeemed in miraculous ways. We can’t expect anything less for women in Jesus’ family tree (look at Ruth and Rahab!). Yet on this side of eternity, many of us won’t see the newness God promises as an Earthly blessing. His blessings are both miraculous and mysterious. And because of that, we can both rejoice with these Advent women, and be Advent women ourselves, longing in hope.

Who Could Have Anticipated?

I wish I could share Kelley Nikondeha’s whole chapter on Mary. She approaches the young girl from Galilee with a perspective I’ve never thought of before. It’s within her whole premise: that the first Advent was born out of a land and a people burdened by trauma and tragedy. Overlaying the history of the region with cultural norms and a heavy dose of pessimism against the Romans, Nikondeha presents a Mary among women who most likely experienced verbal, physical, and even sexual abuses at the hands of soldiers stationed around Nazareth. Women at the time had so few rights (girls even less), and up against an Empire, Judean men didn’t stand a chance either.

Nikondeha describes village life in Galilee as “Tense and taut. A toxic mingling of woe, want and waiting for the next act of aggression created cycles of inescapable trauma for all the inhabitants. It was the last place anyone expected to be on God's map for a peace campaign.” (p. 41).

Life became a resistance of its own. Each day’s perseverance and hope in God’s future justice was an act of rebellion. Messianic expectations blossomed during this time (as we saw with the Maccabees in week one). But what actually began to unfold in the Advent story astounded everyone who took notice.

To recap, first, “God came to an ordinary priest, bypassing the high priest and elites, to begin a new kind of peace campaign. Next, God reached towards Galilee to find a suitable collaborator in the ongoing peace operation. In a culture and set of stories where priests and patriarchs were given celebrity status . . . No one anticipated this move—the place or the person God would approach next—least of all the girl in Galilee.” (p. 39)

Mary’s stability and hope have been tossed about, pushed by force through years of violence and trauma. We can’t pretend to understand. Not feeling safe in your own town, in your own home, in your own body. But millions across time and place, even in this last year know what that kind of fear and uncertainty feel like.

So, when the Angel Gabriel suddenly appears to Mary, she finds herself, for perhaps the first time, being pulled towards something. It shimmers like peace and shines with God’s grace.

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. And the virgin's name was Mary. 

And he came to her and said, “Greetings, O favored one, the Lord is with you!” But she was greatly troubled at the saying, and tried to discern what sort of greeting this might be.

And the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”

And Mary said to the angel, “How will this be, since I am a virgin?”

And the angel answered 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 called holy—the Son of God. And behold, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son, and this is the sixth month with her who was called barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.”

And Mary said, “Behold, I am the servant[f] of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.” And the angel departed from her.

-Luke 1:26-37

The Christmas carols and serene Nativity scenes paint Mary to be “meek and mild.” She may have been unimportant within village life, but if we look at what comes next and the way she ultimately responds, we clearly see a girl shaped by courage and strength.  

And while Mary is intelligently cautious and inquisitive in the presence of an angel, Nikondeha reasons, “Maybe only a young rebel would be willing to accept such a mission.” (p. 52)

The very site of trauma and tragedy was to become the first Earthly dwelling of the Incarnation. Not by anything she had done, or been done to her, but by the Spirit’s overshadowing. “From deep pain would come impossible goodness for the world.” (p. 51)
For nothing is impossible with God.

Mary's Strong Song

We call Mary meek and mild. We imagine her serenely sitting astride a donkey or piously cooing over a sleeping Christ child. We imagine her a simple young woman caring for her family’s farm.

But if we look closely at her song, named the Magnificat, she appears as a totally different woman—full of joy and passion and acknowledge of Scripture that seems unexpected for a woman at that time.

"My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for God has looked with favor on the lowliness of the Almighty's servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is God's name.
God's mercy is for those who fear God
from generation to generation.
God has shown strength with God's arm;
God has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
God has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
God has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
God has helped servant Israel,
in remembrance of God's mercy,
according to the promise God made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever."

- Luke 1:46-55, variation on NRSV

It is a bold song. But it is also like the proclamation from the father of the boy with the unclean spirit in Mark 9, who declares, “I believe; help my unbelief!” Hannah Brencher, in her recent Advent essay, calls Mary revolutionary. She quotes Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who likewise refers to the Magnificat at "the most passionate, the wildest, one might even say the most revolutionary hymn ever sung."

I don’t think we often ponder that God chose Mary for more than her betrothal to Joseph, a direct descendant of David. From her song, we can imagine how God chose Mary for her heart—devoted to God, with a “hopeful yet rebel spirit.”

Jesus learned how to be a carpenter like his father Joseph, but oh how much he must have learned at Mary's knee. In a different lifetime she could have been a brilliant and compassionate teacher, equipping and advocating for her students across many decades. But instead, she was chosen to be mother to the Messiah; the first teacher of the son of God.

May we walk forward with this same strong courage and faith.


 

From Fear to Faith

 

Tonight I draw inspiration from the sermon I heard this morning at church. One of the elders gave the message, and in it he compared the angelic visitation of Zechariah and Mary.

Scripture tells us that on both occasions, it was Gabriel who served as God’s messenger. We don’t often think about the thoughts of angels, but we know they had desires and aspirations. What a task to be given! To herald both the Messiah and his forerunner. I wonder that he could barely hold in the news—one of the first instances of the Gospel (the good news) spoken. But such different experiences. One took place in the hallowed and architecturally stunning halls of the temple. The other, somewhere in a dusty, small town. It’s no wonder Gabriel received different responses. But they probably weren’t what he was expecting.

Zechariah definitely wasn’t prepared to encounter an angel that day, “but at least he was ready for a deep spiritual moment.” Mary on the other hand, was going about her daily life when suddenly a terrifying warrior of light appeared before her.

Without a doubt, Mary was troubled. But not at the sight of him (that was what made Zechariah become “gripped by fear”).

In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.” Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. (Luke 1:26-29)

Mary was troubled at his words. “The Lord is with you.”

These seem like comforting words, and maybe they were. But underneath that comfort, Mary was probably recounting the stories of God showing up to her ancestors. After hearing the words, “God is with you,” nothing would be the same again.

I understand that kind of fear. It is a fear of change. Even if the announcement is a wonderful thing, a life-changing and world-shaping thing, it’s only human be at least a little afraid of how different things will be from then on.

But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”

“How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”

The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. For no word from God will ever fail.”

“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.” Then the angel left her.
(Luke 1:30-38)

“Nothing was safe about God showing up and declaring His victory”—indeed the Old Testament is filled with the results of such glorious military campaigns. But Mary seems to be stilled by Gabriel’s words. Maybe she sensed that this throne her baby will grow up to sit on is a different kind of throne. Maybe she really grasped the importance of the baby’s name, Jesus—"the Lord saves.” Regardless, even though she has shown fear at Gabriel’s first words (and is probably still reeling at the improbability of it all), she does not respond in fear. She responds in faith.

God used both Zechariah and Mary in powerful, yet humble ways. He knew their unique circumstances would give them a proclivity towards fear. But he allowed that fear to shape their humility and grow their faith. For Zechariah, it took nine months. We may never know why Mary said yes so quickly. But I imagine a radical transformation took place in her heart: from the fear of “God with you” to an utter hope that Immanuel was on the way. For no world from God will ever fail.

Encouraged Joy

As soon as the angel left her, Mary “got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, where she entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth” (Luke 1:39b-40).

She wasted no time. There was no email, facetime, or even snail mail to transport what she wanted to share with her relative Elizabeth, and so she traveled there herself.

Though Mary had joyous news to share, there are two ways the meeting could have gone: celebration or competition.

I don’t know about you, but when I first read news of a friend’s engagement, pregnancy, job promotion, or other significant life event, I don’t always rush to congratulations. Often I am weighed down by feelings of inadequacy and comparison. I have to mentally kick myself and remember the love I have for my friend. This calls for celebration and joy, not pity, resentment, or rivalry.

Hannah Brencher, in her Advent essay, “Choosing to Cheer,” says,

God uses this moment in the text to bring together the lives of two women who both carried so much purpose-- Elizabeth and Mary-- for the sheer purpose of celebration.
 
I think about all the other ways this story could have played out. I think about all the opportunities they had to compete with one another or compare themselves to one another.
 
They don’t choose comparison or competition-- they immediately pick celebration.

Comparison is a fatal flaw that so many of us carry. Competition seems ingrained in our very society. Many of us feel like imposters in our own skin. But Brencher concludes, “When we choose to compare ourselves with [others], we take the focus off of God and what he is up to and we place it back on ourselves. We make ourselves bigger in the process instead of exclaiming the bigness of God.”

We just saw Mary proclaim deep faith in God’s enormous plan for the Messiah, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t have been flawed like the rest of us. Gabriel shares that “even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child. . .” Thoughts like “why her?” or “but that makes my baby not as special” could flown through Mary’s mind. We don’t know what was going through Mary’s mind as she traveled to the Judean countryside, but when she arrives, Elizabeth greets her with pure joy:

Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!
(Luke 1:42-45)

Elizabeth not only chooses celebration, but she showers Mary with encouragement. Not a beat passes and everything welling up inside Mary spills out. (Note that Luke describes Mary in 2:19 by saying, “Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart”—a sure sign of a deep thinker and a deeper reflector). Now, it’s possible Mary could have proclaimed the Magnificat before Elizabeth burst out with her blessing, but I don’t think so. We all need encouragement, especially when the stakes are this high. Indeed, Ray Ortlund, in his Desiring God article, “The Surprising Ministry of Encouragement,” says, “Encouragement is what the gospel feels like as it moves from one believer to another.”

The meeting of Mary, Elizabeth, and their babies was nothing short of cosmic. And it confirmed that the One in Mary’s womb was truly destined to be the “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6).

If infant Jesus, not yet born, had the power to spark such fruits of the Spirit in these women, how much more can we depend on the risen Christ and indwelt Spirit to guide us gently from the trenches of comparison and competition to the heights of celebration and joy?

They Mattered

One of two main women in the Christmas story, Mary lived at a time when women were not given much consideration. If not for God’s choice to include her in Jesus’ birth, I doubt she would have made it into Scripture. But, like I mentioned in the last post, nothing is happenstance for God. His choices are deliberate. And they are full of grace. The five women mentioned in Jesus’ genealogy showcase this. Their inclusion was an incredibly rare occurrence. But before their names were ever written down, their lives were chosen to be a part of Jesus’ rich lineage. These women were not the ones we would have chosen as Christ’s descendants. They were scarred. They had criminal and embarrassing pasts. But God gave them the opportunity to reflect His mercy. He lifted them higher. He showed that they matter. He flipped the world’s expectations upside-down.

And so, when Mary encounters the angel Gabriel and he says, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you” (Luke 1:28), I bet you could have knocked her down with a feather. She, probably illiterate, living in the tiny rural town of Nazareth—to be called highly favored! It was not expected. Indeed, “Mary was greatly troubled at his words.”

But Gabriel, knowing the human tendency to fear, gently says, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God” (v. 30). I bet a lot of things rushed through Mary’s mind at this proclamation. As women, we are inclined to take a phrase and spin it in a thousand different directions before the sentence is even finished. Maybe Mary was thinking about a task she had left undone, or a dark path she didn’t like to walk alone. Maybe she was thinking about her family, and the weight of the taxes they had to pay to Rome each year. Maybe she was worried about her betrothal to Joseph.

When the angel said, “Do not be afraid,” did all those fears wash away? It certainty prepared her heart for what was coming next:

“You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.” (v.30-33)

Now, just like Zechariah, Mary asks, “How can this be?” But instead of being banished into silence, Gabriel goes on to explain: “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. For no word from God will ever fail.” (v.35-37)

The Lord knew Mary’s heart. He knew she had faith in the Rock beneath her feet. And He also knew her uncertainty. Not because she doubted, but because, as a woman she had probably never been taught the same things about God’s character that Zechariah the priest had. What she said next came not from experience or foresight, but from deep faith:

“I am the Lord’s servant, may your word to me be fulfilled.” (v.38)

Do not be afraid.
No word from God will ever fail.
I have to believe that the presence of an angel, plus these words sent from God Himself had the power to produce a deep peace in Mary.

We don’t often encounter angels, but we can hear from God. Do we allow His words to affect us like they did Mary?

Madeleine L’Engle talks about this when she describes her experience with story.

When we try to define and over-define and narrow down, we lose the story the Maker of the Universe is telling us . . .

And that is how I want to read and write story. This does not mean that story deals only with cheeriness, but that beneath the reality of life is the rock of faith. I ask God to set me upon a rock that is higher than I so that I may be able to see more clearly, see the tragedy and the joy and sometimes the dull slogging along of life with an assurance that not only is there rock under my feet, but that God made the rock and you and me, and is concerned with Creation, every galaxy, every atom, and subatomic particle. Matter matters.

This is the promise of the Incarnation. Christ put on human matter, and what happens to us is of eternal cosmic importance. That is what true story affirms.

(Miracle on 10th Street, p. 77-78)

I don’t believe Mary was naively agreeing to God’s plan. When the angel spoke, I think he gifted her with the ability to see God holding all of Creation with this one decision to send His son. The tragedies, the joys, even the dull sloggings of life all matter. They mattered for those living the Lineage of Expectation, and they matter for us, awaiting Jesus’ second Advent. God does not waste what He has created.

Mary's Heart

Since this past April (when I was graciously given a middle-aged Toyota Camry), I’ve had the privilege of listening to Moody radio on my drives to work. This morning, one of the show hosts pointed out how much she is awe of Mary’s story. There was no glitz and glam; Mary was seemingly hurled into a situation of shame, pain, and loneliness. And yet, she said yes to God. I’m not sure if there was an infinitesimal moment when Gabriel could have said, “Nevermind, Mary, I’ll ask the Lord who else He had in mind,” but if there was, I would have loved to hear what was going on in Mary’s mind.

Maybe it was naïveté. She led a small life, in a small town. How could she possibly know what she was getting herself into. Or maybe it was purely child-like faith. After all, she wasn’t as old as greeting cards and nativity scenes make us believe. Either way, she let God turn her world upside down, for the sake of His magnificent plan. And she didn’t do so resignedly, either. We get a beautiful glimpse of her heart in Luke 1:46-55. Mary’s Song, or the Magnificat, goes like this:

“My soul glorifies the Lord
     and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
   for he has been mindful
    of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed,
       for the Mighty One has done great things for me—
    holy is his name.
    His mercy extends to those who fear him,
    from generation to generation.
   He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;
    he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.
   He has brought down rulers from their thrones
    but has lifted up the humble.
    He has filled the hungry with good things
    but has sent the rich away empty.
   He has helped his servant Israel,
    remembering to be merciful
   to Abraham and his descendants forever,
    just as he promised our ancestors.”

I haven’t faced shame, but I have be plunged into seasons of pain, loneliness, and fear (you can read some of my thoughts on my other blog). So I think I understand a little bit of Mary’s situation. I’d like to think I approach these seasons with a small measure of humility and faith, yet there are many days when my response is far from beautiful. What can I learn from Mary?

Way before the annunciation, Jesus’ ancestor David penned these words. They echo the truth that Mary held in her heart:

Behold, the eye of the Lord is on those who fear him,
    on those who hope in his steadfast love,
 that he may deliver their soul from death
    and keep them alive in famine.

 Our soul waits for the Lord;
    he is our help and our shield.
 For our heart is glad in him,
    because we trust in his holy name. Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us,
    even as we hope in you.

- Psalm 33:18-22

 

The Great Announcement: God with Us!

Today we light the second Advent candle. The Annunciation candle.

What is the annunciation, you ask? Well, again we turn to Merriam-Webster, who defines annunciation as the act of announcing or of being announced. The greatest annunciation, the one we celebrate during Advent, was when the angel Gabriel came to the young virgin, Mary, and proclaimed,

 “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”

Luke 1:29-38 continues: 

Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”

“How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”

The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. For no word from God will ever fail.”

“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.” Then the angel left her.

Some time later, Matthew records a similar annunciation made to Joseph. He had already heard the news that Mary was pregnant. Not wanting scandal, he decided to divorce her quietly, however God had a different plan. Matthew 1:20b-23 says:

An angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).

Immanuel. God with us.

In our modern context, the idea of “God with us” isn’t so foreign. We’ve all see the superhero and mythological hero flicks that speak of the gods coming down to hang out with humans. But to the Old and New Testament ears, hearing “God with us,” brought up images of temporary shelters and palm branches—the Lord’s appointed festival , the Feast of Booths (Sukkot).

When Israel was released from their exile in Babylon, they were left with very little memory of God’s promises or appointed festivals. But gradually, through corporate reading of the Law (see Nehemiah 8), the people of God remembered and re-learned what it was like to celebrate God’s provision and grace. As it just so happened, all this occurred during the Feast of Booths. Not only were they returned to joyful obedience of God’s Word, but the festival itself fed a greater hope – that one day the Messiah would come and make His dwelling among them (John 1:14).

Roughly 400 years later, the announcement came. Immanuel was coming at last! But he was not coming as a conquering super-human king. He was bound for earth as a tiny human being.

In his recent article, “We Do Not Know What God Was Doing”, DesiringGod.com writer Jon Bloom [side note: you should really read the whole article!] extrapolates on this unexpected announcement and appearance:

“Have you ever stopped to ponder just how strange everything about the birth of Jesus was? Whatever people had imagined the coming of the Messiah would look like, no one imagined it to look like it did.

In all that he reveals to us about that strange first Christmas, God is saying very important things to us about how he wants us to view the perplexing, bewildering, glorious, frustrating, fearful, painful, unexpected, disappointing, and even tragic experiences of our lives. No one really understood all that was going as God the Son entered the world. No one really saw the big picture — no one except God.”

When we are filled with uncertainty; when the pieces of our lives don’t seem to make much sense—that is when the Advent journey becomes a wonderful gift. And there is an annunciation for each of us: “The God of the unexpected . . . that God is with us, Immanuel.”