Note: You can watch this teaching on CrossWalk’s YouTube channel.
In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a village in Galilee, to a virgin named Mary. She was engaged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of King David. Gabriel appeared to her and said, “Greetings, favored woman! The Lord is with you!”
Confused and disturbed, Mary tried to think what the angel could mean. “Don’t be afraid, Mary,” the angel told her, “for you have found favor with God! You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be very great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David. And he will reign over Israel forever; his Kingdom will never end!”
Mary asked the angel, “But how can this happen? I am a virgin.”
The angel replied, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the baby to be born will be holy, and he will be called the Son of God. What’s more, your relative Elizabeth has become pregnant in her old age! People used to say she was barren, but she has conceived a son and is now in her sixth month. For the word of God will never fail.”
Mary responded, “I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.” And then the angel left her. – Luke 1:26-38 (NLT)
Believe it or not, I have gotten tongue-tied a handful of times in my life. Sometimes it happens when I am in the company of somebody I want to really impress. Could be an author, or a leader of an organization I admire, or an artist, or a politician, or... who knows – could be just about anybody if the context was right. I stand there in front of them, seemingly brainless, nothing to say, only dumb questions to ask, like, “So how’s the weather where you’re from” or “What’s your favorite burger joint?” Important stuff to know from people I admire, these. I’ve missed some opportunities to really pick some brains over the years, but instead learned about their favorite pizza.
Sometimes I am the person that causes other people to get tongue-tied. It’s my title. The “Reverend” has an amazing way of freaking people out. Sometimes it’s really funny, like when people tell some awful, classless joke or swear like a sailor or say that religious people are morons, then someone tells them I’m a pastor. They immediately change and usually have to go wash their hair or something. For some, I am seen as an authority figure, like a principal. They know they are probably in trouble – they just haven’t figured out why yet and they know I must already know! I wish they would calm down and just be themselves and let me be a human being. Let’s have a conversation.
Jesus’ birth narrative according to Luke begins with one of these understandably awkward interactions. A young woman – maybe 12-13 years old – has this encounter with an angel of God that surely blew her mind. Of course, she was confused. Of course, she was disturbed. Of course, she wondered how she was going to get pregnant given her circumstances. Of course, Gabriel gave a completely reasonable explanation of what was to come. No need to ask any more questions – it’s all perfectly clear. I’m in.
There is a story in the Gospel of John where Jesus starts this conversation with a Samaritan woman. He knew he was violating protocol in speaking to her – men didn’t have such conversations with women whom they deemed “less than”. Add to that, Jesus was Jewish – Jews avoided all contact with Samaritans, whom they loathed. None of this was lost on the woman. She didn’t want to talk to him, either, for some of the same reasons. But there they were. Jesus asked her for some water (again, inappropriate in that context). She argued. Jesus replied, “If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are speaking to, you would ask me, and I would give you living water” (John 4:10). She didn’t know to ask anything more than she could.
We should expect the same of Mary. A girl that age, facing a pre-arranged marriage and everything about her body and life changing on the horizon, I imagine her prayer/wish list was pretty basic: I hope Joseph doesn’t hurt me; I hope we can afford to eat; I hope we have a roof over our head; I hope I can get pregnant; I hope I get pregnant with sons; I hope my children live into adulthood; I hope I survive giving birth; I hope I don’t get mistreated by Roman soldiers; I hope Joseph doesn’t get killed and leave me widowed and helpless. For her, Christ’s coming was what Maslow would predict for her prayers: basic necessities, please! Beyond that, she likely had in mind some of the things being said around her: the end of Roman oppression and the restored reign of their Jewish nation. We should not expect her to ask, for instance, how Jesus’ death on a cross was going to become associated with substitutionary atonement which would inform communion which would raise questions about yeast and bread which would, of course, be so important as to split the Church. She never brought it up. Because why would she when what was going to happen in her body was much more pressing?
She had no way of knowing the fullness of what Christ’s coming would mean for her, or her son, or the Jews, or the Gentiles, or Empire, or American politics. She could not begin to imagine what her role would do to shatter a glass ceiling – at least in the hearts of women – forever. She could not possibly understand how what was going to take place would bring so much good into the world, and also be misused to bring horrific suffering as well. All she had to work with was right in front of her nose. She could only imagine what the immediate future would hold when her baby bump began to show. She couldn’t imagine what Jesus’ life would involve, or watching her son get publicly tortured to death.
Her decision was based on what she knew right then, not the whole future. She was partly star-struck, but also bound by her lack of imagination. We all are. We can only see in part. And yet we are all called forward by the spirit of God to allow Christ to come. The Spirit of God is always coming, always inviting us to participate in the coming of Christ. That invitation to usher in the anointing of God is good news, yet at the same time confusing and disturbing, leaving us with questions about what is top of mind. For Mary, it was (naturally) all about her pregnancy given that she was not yet married to her fiancée, Joseph. What newness would you love to see take place in our world, your world? Can you name one, or two, or fifty-two things? What’s at the top of the list? If Christ should come as you wish, what will that mean for you? What will be asked of you? What might feel confusing or disturbing?
I believe Emmanuel always wants to come. I think Emmanuel – God with us – comes more frequently than we think, and that we are more likely to experience such a presence of God when we are aware of its possibility and are open to being a conscious, willing partner in it.
What does O Come, O Come, Emmanuel mean to you this year, all of you Marys? Will you say yes to being pregnant with the Christ-child, nurturing yourself and the incarnation along to ensure a healthy gestation and delivery?