December 19, 1999
What a shock it must have been — a teenage girl, no husband, and pregnant! The legal penalty for that set of circumstances in first century Palestine was death by stoning. What a shock it must have been. The appearance of an angel, Gabriel, telling her that the child she carried will be the son of the most high God. What a shock it must have been, for the aged Elizabeth was pregnant, too. The shock, the ripples through time and space this day are that God comes to an unknown family from an obscure town, a family that is not known in Scripture, a town that is barely known in human life.
As we read this story, there are varieties of reactions to these shocking events. Sometimes, we share those reactions in our own lives' shocking events. Sometimes, we are like Herod, "Kill the babies! Kill all the babies just to make sure that you get the right one." Sometimes, thirty years later, we act like the temple authorities, "Kill the man before he causes more trouble and draws the attention of the oppressor."
In the midst of this story, bracketed by the annunciation and by the crucifixion, Mary presents to us an example of humility and openness on which we focus this day. Mary pondered these things in her heart. This teenage girl received the message of Gabriel as God revealed it to her. She pondered the events that were happening around her, sought understanding and, even then, did not get immediate clarity. Her example for us today is at least two-fold: on the one hand, she does not remain ignorant, she seeks an answer; on the other hand, she never concludes that she has all of the answers, all the knowledge. She never concludes that she knows absolutely what God's will is.
First, she would never have been expected to know those things. After all, she was just a girl living in first century Palestine; being wise was not something she expected. But instead, she pondered them in her heart. "Ponder" — an odd word which we rarely use. It connotes all that has to do with thinking and praying and sharing the story of struggle with others to seek understanding and clarity.
Notice, too, in her pondering Mary does not turn to Scripture — it would not have done her any good. First of all, women were not allowed to read Scripture. In fact, women were not allowed to read at all. And so, turning to Scripture was outside of the possibilities for her. What Mary does do is to go to Elizabeth. She goes to another human being, a kinswoman, a woman whose blood line she shared and whose heart she shared, to say, "What's going on? I know about you in old age being pregnant, but now me, without a husband being pregnant. What is going on here?"
It is a truism that we can know neither the condition nor the outcome of another person's pain and suffering. We can know neither the condition nor the outcome of another person's Christian journey. No matter how many times I have read the Scripture, I can know neither the condition nor the outcome of what is going to happen because in the living Scripture God speaks afresh each time.
If we have never experienced what another person has experienced, it is hard to know what they are thinking and feeling. When it happens to us, we do not believe anyone can know our pain and suffering. We do not believe anyone can know our Christian journey unless they have experienced it themselves. Back when I lived in the deep south, a friend of mine once said, "A feller can't no more explain what he don't know than he can come back from where he ain't been!" It's hard for us to convince ourselves, first of all, that people know what is going on with us, and it may be hard for us to have real empathy with another person whose life experience is different.
In the midst of that, the midst of all human condition, Gabriel comes to Mary and says, "Hail Mary, blessed one above all, for you carry the son of God." More than likely this time every year, you will find articles written in the newspapers and magazines and you will hear on the radio and television, the debate about whether or not the incarnation is true. Whether or not it was a virgin birth. Well, I am here to tell you it is not important to me because it was a miraculous conception. It is not important to me because it was a romantic birth. What is important to me about the story is that God became one of us. What is important to me about the story is that in the person of Jesus Christ God has become human and has experienced our humanity. How he did it is unimportant. That he made himself in the womb of Mary is a good story, one that touches us all because we were made in a similar womb.
I can believe that it happened because when God became man, it tells me that Jesus has been all the way — I can believe that he knows the pain and suffering of my life. He knows the spiritual journey on which I have been engaged my whole life and he knows your life and your journey. He has been through it all. He has been through the birth with all the trauma that is associated with being born. He has been through growing up in a family that had to leave home and possessions behind and go into hiding. He lost his father when he was a lad and he lost his best friend when he was an adult. Jesus has been all the way. Speaking in front of huge crowds that hung on his every word, and then grieving over the misunderstanding of a few of them. How many of us have grieved over the misunderstanding of a few, when so many others have believed in and supported us? He has been all the way because his death was the result of the betrayal of only one person. It only takes one to destroy.
Jesus knows the depths of my despair and the peaks of my joy. It isn't so important to me that he came to life in Mary as it is important that he can come to life in Robert. What a shock it is that Jesus comes to us when we are like Mary. He comes to us when we are humble; he comes to us when we are open; he comes to us when we are vulnerable. Just as he came to Mary and Joseph on that journey to Bethlehem, just as he came to maturity on the fleeing journey into Egypt, he comes to us as a baby. He comes to us as a man humbled, nailed to the cross dying and he comes to us at every point in between.
What a shock it is that Jesus continues to come to life in your life and mine. What a shock it is that Jesus continues to come to life in a teenage girl or a middle-aged man; continues to come to life in a high school drop out or a recovering alcoholic. What a shock it is to discover that when "we go where no man has gone before," one man has been there to guide us through.
At this season of our Lord's nativity, let us receive the troubling news with humility and openness, that no matter how shocking the angel's words are, we will be able to say with Mary, "Let it be to me according to your word."
AMEN