Luke 1:39-56: Mary did you know?

It’s the time of year when we are reminded of the unexpected nature of God’s work in our world.  Perhaps nothing is more unexpected than the birth of the Messiah, in a manger, in a backwater town like Bethlehem.  When we read of the meeting between Mary and Elizabeth, when Mary was pregnant with Jesus and Elizabeth with John the Baptist, we are reminded by their words that God did not just make His appearance in our world in unexpected ways, but that His appearance was only the beginning of the unexpected. 

It is not overstatement to say that God comes in unexpected ways.  The very fact that God comes at all is a testimony to the graciously unexpected nature of God’s actions.  Even before Jesus was born, He began demonstrating His willingness to meet us where we are.  After all, according to social convention, it should have been Elizabeth who visited Mary.  Elizabeth says as much when she asks, “And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” (Luke 1:43)  And yet there she is, Mary at Elizabeth’s doorstep, with an unborn king in her womb.  As we see her standing there, it is a reminder of a Savior who makes house-calls, a reminder of the fact that the seat at God’s right-hand stood empty for some thirty-odd years as God demonstrated how far He was willing to go to meet us.  And when Christ displays the humility necessary to leave heaven, He humbles Himself entirely in that He forgoes not only the glory of heaven, but the luxuries of earth.  He is not born to a queen or a princess, but to an unwed virgin.  His first cries as He enters our world do not echo through the halls of a marble palace, but emanate from a manger, in the all but forgotten town of Bethlehem.  God comes in unexpected ways, through unexpected people, but most importantly, He comes.     

And when God does come in unexpected ways, through unexpected people, he continues to surprise us as He does unexpected things.  In a passage referred to as “the Magnificat”, Mary lifts her voice in praise to God, not just for the role she has been granted to play in the divine drama, but for the role that her Son will play.  She says things that we are quick to overlook or at least water-down, because they don’t sit well with our first-world mentality.  She states that God opposes the proud.  Why?  Because the proud insist on saving themselves, they insist on their own brand of self-attained righteousness.  In all Jesus’ run-ins with the Pharisees and with lawyers, what is at stake if not the source of human righteousness and sanctification?  She says that God opposes the powerful.  Who is it that puts Jesus on trial?  It might be the common man who shouts "crucify", but it’s the Jewish and Roman establishment, the council, Herod, and Pilate who sit in judgment.  The powers of this world stand opposed to a God who is willing to manifest Himself not only in power, but also in humility demonstrated by self-sacrificial love. Finally we hear from Mary that God opposes the rich.  This is the deepest cut to those of us who think we live modestly, but yet are rich when compared to our brothers and sisters around the globe.  It is startling the number of run-ins Jesus has with the rich.  He chastises the rich fool (Luke 12:13-21), listens to the lament of the rich man who failed to help Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31), and causes the rich ruler to leave grief stricken, after he is unable to surrender his riches in order to follow Christ (Luke 18:18-30).  But that isn’t the end of the story.   

God does not simply oppose, He also looks…upon His humble servants.  He also shows mercy…to those who fear Him.  He also exalts…the humble.  He also feeds…the hungry and the poor. 

If we view the story of the manger through the eyes of Mary, it should cause us to change how we see ourselves, and how we want to be seen by others.  Rather than striving so hard to place ourselves among the proud, the powerful, and the rich, maybe we should learn to be ok with being humble, fearful, and poor. 

God will do great things in our church, in our community, and in the world.  The question is, will we turn ourselves over to God, to be used as instruments to accomplish those things?  If we will, then like Mary, all generations will call us blessed.  

Luke 1:26-38: Motherhood as an act of faith

So I realize that in order to catch up, I am going to have to post more than once a week.  I hope to be able to do that this week.  For now, I wanted to share with you some thoughts on motherhood as an act of faith.  I know it's a few weeks late in relation to Mother's Day, but perhaps that's a good thing.
I'll be honest, I struggled a lot trying to figure out what to preach on Mother's Day.  In my discussions with people who have been here a while, I learned that sometimes they had gotten a "Mother's Day" sermon, and sometimes they hadn't.  This being my first time preaching regularly, it was also the first time I had been confronted with the question; "how do we use a time like Mother's Day to reflect on faith?"
My mind went to Jesus' mother, Mary, the most famous of all mothers.  What can Mary's story teach us about faith?
As we study what is often referred to as "the Annunciation", or Mary's receiving of the news that she will give birth to Jesus, it is hard not to compare and contrast her reaction to that of Zechariah on hearing the news of John the Baptist's impending birth.  The two scenes come so close together that it's hard not to think that a comparison is called for, but while the scenes are close in proximity in Luke's narrative, they are also worlds apart when it comes to Zechariah and Mary's relative reactions.  If we had to wager a guess, we would expect Zechariah's reaction to be one of faith, especially taking into consideration his role as a priest at the Temple.  Indeed, it is in the holiest of spaces at the Temple where Zechariah receives the news that his wife, Elizabeth, will give birth to John the Baptist.  And yet, we see that his response is one of disbelief, a far cry from the faith we would expect from a priest in service to God.
Cut to Nazareth, where a very different figure receives very similar news.  While the messenger is the same,  in this instance the recipient of the news is a teenage girl rather than a Temple priest, and an unmarried teenage girl to boot.  So imagine our surprise when on hearing the news from Gabriel, including how exactly everything would happen, Mary responds with one of the simplest and yet most faithful statements ever spoken: "Behold, I am a servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word."  Despite the fact that the news would cause Mary a lot more difficulty than it would cause Zechariah, we see her much more willing to embrace her role in God's plan.  I have no doubt that she had to be thinking of the nine months that she would spend literally sharing her body with another living being.  Perhaps of greater concern would be the social repercussions when she, a teenage girl yet to be married, turned up pregnant.   
I think all of these things crossed Mary's mind, even as she uttered the words that cast her as a key player in the greatest drama in history.  It teaches us several things of great importance.  The first is that faith can be found in the most unexpected of places, even when it is found wanting in the very place we go expecting to find it.  Secondly, motherhood in and of itself is an act of faith.  At a time when women, specifically mothers, are under increasing pressure to have careers of their own, I think we can learn something about the value of intentionally entering into motherhood from Mary.  It is true that God isn't in need of any more women to give birth to the Messiah, but that doesn't diminish the potential of each child to one day make a lasting impact on the community around them.  Mary raised Jesus with the expectation that He would play an indispensable role in God's plan.  While our children might not grow up to redeem humankind, that shouldn't preclude us from expecting that each one of them will play an important role in spreading the good news of what Mary's child accomplished in His death, burial, and resurrection.  If we raise them properly, it will be a message carried not only on their lips but also in their hearts, born out in their actions for the world to see.   Finally, we learn from the example of Mary that our role in God's plan will most assuredly cost us something.  For Mary, it cost her the pain of childbirth, and the respect of her community.  It is easy to forget that Mary was probably the recipient of judgmental stares and hushed whispering for quite some time after Jesus' birth.  By saying yes to God, Mary was agreeing to endure all these things so that she would have the honor of giving birth to and nurturing the world's Savior.  Do we, with the faith of Mary, say yes when God asks us to play a part in His divine plan?  Do we, like Mary, willingly accept the cost of proclaiming the gospel, both in word and deed, to those around us?  Can we with sincerity of heart say: ""Behold, I am a servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word."?