Orchard Ridge United Church of Christ

Preached by Winton Boyd on December 14, 2008

Luke 1:26-38

In this third week of Advent, we are just now starting to read and hear the stories of Christmas that sound familiar. It is good that we read them every year, though, because sometimes no matter how hard we try, it is just hard to get the story right.

We can take comfort, however, in knowing we are not alone. You may have heard earlier this month that even the White House has trouble getting the stories right. Apparently, after sending out a Hanukkah card, the White House had to send a second card with the statement, Please accept our apologies, the card you previously received had the incorrect illustration on it.  Turns out the first card had a picture on the front of a horse drawn cart bringing a Christmas tree to white house.

Lest we commit the same faux pau, let’s revisit this somewhat familiar story to see what is actually here.

As the story of the beginning of this Messiah, this is a fanciful story – Angels, old barren women and young virgins getting pregnant, a child called the ‘son of the most high.’ That’s not the only thing he is called, – son, Jesus, great, holy one, son of God, and one who will reign over the house of Jacob, child of David. This is all pretty familiar to us now, easy to gloss over; because we hear it every year, see it in Christmas pageants and TV specials and cartoons.

Mary’s emotions begin with being troubled, evolve into confusion, and eventually become devotion (May it be to me as you have said!). At the same time she is going through this, the angel in the story is matching her troubled spirit with “do not be afraid”; clarifies her confusion by telling her “this is how it will happen”; and honors and values her devotion by departing, moving on.

Just looking at the language of the story, the number of references to the baby or his sacred name – there is no question that the story is about this coming Jesus. There is no question that Luke is trying to put the birth of this child into a context and language that communicates he is unlike any other child born to Mary or anyone else.

Yet, our connection to the story is really through Mary. If the story is about the son of the Most High, it is also about the one who makes that birth possible, it is about the one whose life and faith bring forth the possible from the impossible.

Mary is on an unlikely, unforeseen journey to live the impossible, but it is not the extraordinary, out of this world virgin impregnated by an angel part of story. The angel and the promise are all about a confused and bewildered child of God being gifted and called in a unique way – but gifted and comforted by a sacred companion. The companion, or angel in this story, isn’t trying to remove the difficult journey from Mary’s life, but rather seeking to help her understand how she will indeed live the impossible. The angel, who after all brings the message in the first place – understands that fear and confusion are part of the natural order of things when faced with the impossible.

Mary’s life inspires us not because we too are virgin mothers – it inspires us because she possesses a spirit that is open to the impossible and open to the sacred companionship in her midst. While afraid herself, Mary never really questions the angel or the angel’s existence. Pretty quickly, she seems to know that even as she feels fear about her future and her task – she will not be alone.

As an annual story told during the Christmas season and as a figure of faith lifted up as an inspiration, Mary’s life is an invitation to us to look around for the angels in our midst, the sacred companions helping us through times of fear and confusion. They may be other people, animals, an inner voice, and of course strangers. In whatever form they enter our lives, they help us know and live from our inner/God given strength in the face of the impossible.

Some of you may have seen the movie, Amazing Grace, which chronicles the movement to abolish slavery in England, and the life of William Wilberforce in particular. On aspect of the story is the unique relationship between John Newton, author of the song Amazing Grace, slave trader early in his life who converted to Christianity and against slave trading; and the much younger son of a family friend, William Wilberforce.

In one scene in the movie, the up and coming legislator Wilberforce is contemplating taking on the profitable and lucrative slave trade in parliament. Somewhat scared and alone, he pays a visit to John Newton, by then an old preacher. Newton expects that Wilberforce has come simply to ask for his blessing and support in this emerging social justice issue (which he does). But then Wilberforce reminds Newton that years before Newton told him that he “lived in the company of 20,000 ghosts” (meaning he is haunted by the memory of the 20,000 slaves he traded, many of whom died horrible deaths in transport). What Wilberforce is really asking is that Newton join the crusade, go public with his firsthand account of the barbarity of the industry. Wilberforce knows that the power of a firsthand account would be a great asset to the public campaign.

But knowing that Newton’s past still torments him, he is also suggesting something else; – he (Wilberforce) would be a trusted, sacred companion to Newton. He (Wilberforce) would be a witness to Newton’s religious conversion, a witness to the power of confession, a companion on those days when his grief and despair seem overwhelming.

He cannot get Newton to join him. But we learn later in the movie, the conversation itself and the work that Wilberforce continues on his own does become a source of strength and inspiration for Newton.

Later, Wilberforce again goes to visit Newton, now much older, blind and nearing death. Knowing full well his public days are ending, Newton is now writing his story of slave trading – what he calls his confession – with names, dates, ports, people – everything he remembers. As he asks his friend to publish it and use it the abolition movement – he tells Wilberforce “we have lots of work to do.”

In saying, “we have lots of work to do”, Newton is not suggesting that he will be a part of the public campaign in person. He is suggesting to Wilberforce that as the debate and struggle to abolish slavery heats up and meets increasing resistance – Wilberforce will not be alone. God will be with them, and Newton, through his written account, but more through his spiritual companionship, will also be with him.

This sacred companionship between these two powerful men, as portrayed in the movie, is beautiful because it contains not only reciprocity but also a combination of comfort and challenge. It is hard to know who is mentor and who is mentee as their roles change – but what is clear is that both are encouraged and inspired by the other; both are comforted in despair and encouraged to keep doing the impossible; both are thrust back onto God who is the source and strength of their being.

The story is a power reminder and illustration of our need for companions, our need to be companions, and the power of spiritual presence. It is a reminder that sometimes we feel that companionship directly from God; and sometimes we feel God’s presence through the lives of others. It is a reminder that sometimes our faith calls us to do the impossible and sometimes it calls us to a witness to others doing the impossible.

And so it is with this story in Luke. Just as the angel comforts and accompanies Mary, just as it stands as a witness to the impossible that will be possible – it is a sacred voice of calling too. Comfort and call come together – not as pushing, not as intrusive, not as abuse, not as disrespectful.

If a child is to be born and called the son of the Most High, a holy one of God, and a son of God – that child has to be born. That child has to have a mother, and Mary will have to be that mother. The angel reminds us that faith is not about being spared the impossible – but comforted and called into the impossible. It is not about surviving darkness, but about walking THROUGH the darkness into the light and knowing the beauty and value of the fear, the confusion, and the sense of purpose that accompanies us when we live into the fullness of faith.

I found a wonderful quote from Rumi on our website’s daily meditation

…Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house empty
of its furniture, still,
treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.

We do a disservice to God and our faith if we read this story and come away with the notion that Mary is somehow different and more chosen that us. If we place her on some pedestal or in some category that is unattainable, we minimize the power of God in our lives and the power of sacred companionship in our faith.

Rather, as we journey deeper into the Advent stories, we can take strength and hope from the reminder that our task as people of faith is to remain open and available; that in some way as mysterious as a virgin pregnancy, we too may find ourselves birthing something sacred; open to the possibility that our witness may allow someone else to birth something sacred in their lives.  Amen