Luke 1:26-38
The Journey: Mary of Nazareth
James McTyre
Lake Hills Presbyterian Church (USA)
In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin's name was Mary. And he came to her and said, 'Greetings, favoured one! The Lord is with you.' But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. The angel said to her, 'Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favour with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him 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 ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob for ever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.' Mary said to the angel, 'How can this be, since I am a virgin?' The angel said to 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 holy; he will be called Son of God. And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.' Then Mary said, 'Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.' Then the angel departed from her.
I am so excited about Christmas! Christmas is coming! Did you know that? Christmas makes me smile. Smiling's my favorite. Especially at Christmas. When you get to eat from all four of the food groups. Candy, candy canes, candy corns, and syrup.
Did you know there a people who get all grumpy at Christmas? They're on the naughty list. There are people who think it's all kind of Humbug. They'd rather swallow a toothpick and be tortured by a legion of hobgoblins. They say Santa sits on a throne of lies.
I'm not kidding. They complain about traffic. They fuss about the crowds. They don't enjoy listening to Christmas carols 24 hours a day. They feel pressured to entertain, pushed to overeat, and bullied to bake creative treats. Did you know there are people like that? Just a bunch of cotton-headed ninny-muggins.
Last week, I went back and read through some of my old Advent sermons from previous years. I'm depressing. I sound more like Ebenezer Scrooge than Buddy the Elf.
Part of it's because, you know, I'm a preacher, and preachers don't go, "Ho, ho, ho!" Preachers are supposed to say, "Christmas is about Jeeeezusah" Jesus only got three presents and none of them were any fun. Well, the gold was OK. But frankincense and myrrh? Embalming spices. What, they were all out of onesies? That's what happens when men buy presents.
I think I've also been Scroogy because Advent scriptures are picked by grumpy old men with digestive problems. It's all John the Baptist, going, "You brood of vipers! Repent! Flee the wrath!" Which helped when I went shopping on Friday. "The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon shall turn to blood! And the Christmas Joy Potluck will be the 16th at 6PM."
I think it's also because when you're all grown up and mature, you're supposed to be cool about stuff. And I live to be cool. Unaffected. "Oh, it's so exhausting, going to all these... gatherings. Smiling. Wearing sweaters."
I also want to be sensitive. I also know enough about brain chemistry to know that a lot of people really do get clinically depressed at Christmas. A lot of us are lonely. A lot of us are keenly aware of absences at the table. So I try not to hit the joy button too hard. I dress in black robes. I don no gay apparel.
And, on top of all that, I also know there are a lot of people in the world who are not going to have a merry Christmas. Who don't have enough to eat. Who don't have a roof over their heads. It's the progressive, Presbyterian way to moderate our joy with a keen appreciation for suffering.
JESUS is the reason for the season. Don't forget: the holly has blood-red berries and sharp points that resemble the spears that you used to pierce Jesus' side... kids.
No wonder people get depressed at Christmas. And, I would say that the church contributes to the problem by trying to fix the problem. Preacher boys & girls try to "fix" Christmas - but not too much. We mix the messages and end up with a kind of bipolar, high-low, drink responsibly, buy meaningful presents Christian malaise.
So, this year, this Advent, this Christmas season, I want to be different. We're not going to talk about ourselves. At least, not primarily. If you find personal connection and inspiration from the sermons, don't blame me.
This year, instead of focusing on our jolliness, or our melancholy, or our spending, or our suffering, we're going to talk about people who aren't here. At least, not physically. We're going to take a journey. We're going to take a journey to Bethlehem and we're going to talk about the people we meet along the way. People like Mary. People like Joseph. Maybe even some angels and aaaaa-donkeys. And any resemblance to people living or dead will be purely coincidental. Or the grace of God.
This Advent, we're taking this journey with a really great book as our map. It's called, The Journey: Walking the Road to Bethlehem. It's by Adam Hamilton. If you want the full effect, you need to buy the book and read it yourself. Because I'm easily distracted. But I'll try not to go too far astray. Because I think it's really important to do this.
I think it's really important to think about Christmas through somebody else's eyes. In fact, I wonder if we don't really GET Christmas unless we try to see it through somebody else's eyes. A different way. A way that's not colored or darkened or even overly brightened by our own biases. A way that's not controlled by society's manipulations. A way that's not even directed by the church's institutional traditions. I think it's really, really important to let the characters in the story of Christmas speak to us in their own voices, on their own journeys.
So, that's where we're going to go these next 4 weeks. I hope you'll come along and meet these people, maybe all over again, maybe even for the first time.
---
Look over there. By the spring of "living waters" bubbling up at the base of the cave. See that girl? That's Mary. Mary of Nazareth. Like everybody else in Nazareth, she comes to this well to get water every morning. Mary's marrying age. Which back then was about 13. Really. Old age was 50, if you were very lucky. Giving birth was the second most dangerous thing a woman could do. God's chosen people didn't have a lot of choice. You preserved the tribe and kept your ancestors' line intact.
Mary didn't have options. She lived in Nazareth. The name comes from the Hebrew word, "netzer," which means branch, or shoot. Like that one, persistent little sprig of green that grows from a lifeless stump. The name could have come from the prophecy of Isaiah that says, "There shall come a shoot from the stump of Jesse." Jesse being the father of King David. Or, the name might have meant kind of like a weed at the edge of real life. Which is kind of what Nazareth was. Just a village of 100-200. Probably a lot of whom were day-laborers in the big city down the road, Sepphoris. Sepphoris had some palatial homes, with mosaic floors that needed scrubbing by lower branches of society. Like Nazareth.
The "living waters" of Nazareth where people came for life, were, logically, at the bottom of a cave. That's how springs work on limestone. To the people of Nazareth, that's natural. In fact, Mary and the people of Nazareth made their homes in caves. That's the beauty of limestone. Cool in the summer, warm in the winter. You need a new room? You carve one. Extreme Makeover, Nazareth Edition.
Mary's at the bottom of a cave, getting life. Which is kind of symbolic. You see, Mary's guilty of the first most dangerous thing a woman can do. Her family has betrothed her in an arranged marriage to the family of Joseph. For reasons both social and biological, they have to wait a year before marriage to make sure she's not. You know. There were no rights of the unborn. They just killed the woman. Killed her with the same stones that built their homes and ground their bread and built the life that begat the begats of the father's family tree.
And if that seems harsh, well, you try living in a cave in pre-modern Palestine for a few centuries, washing other people's floors, where middle age starts at 15.
Mary. At the base of society. At the bottom of this womb-like cave where life is found. Mary has a secret. It's either crazy, or it's a miracle. It's definitely dangerous. Mary wonders, "How can this be?"
A lot of people have asked the same thing. I think if you get hung up on the science you miss the point of the poetry.
Is it grandiose thinking? Oh come on. All us parents are sure our kid's going to grow up to save the world. Life is taking a wild turn for Mary. She's skidding into Dead Man's Curve. Or dead girl's curve.
Look. I don't want to overly psychologize what's going through the young head of the Mother of Jesus. We don't know whole story. We just know what she said when the living waters of life threatened to pull her under.
'Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.'
Instead of drowning, Mary becomes like a leaf, floating on a stream. Instead of throwing stones, she lets the waters of life carry her.
---
Now. I said I didn't want to talk about us this Christmas, this Advent season. So, I'll address this to Mary. Mary, do you find yourself at the bottom of a dark place, where, ironically, life bubbles up? Are you between a rock and a wonderful, new direction? Do you see yourself at the edge of change? Has life thrown you this secret dream of salvation that just might lead you to peace, and joy, and redemption? Will you fight it? Or could you let go, and see where it carries?
2000 years and a lot of changes, and Christmas, Jesus, his Advent, still is equal parts jeopardy and joy. Christmas isn't about us. But it is about the choices we face. It's about the unexpectable twists. It's about the unpredictable turns that we know life is going to throw. Will we be ready? Will they be the end of us? Or will they somehow be our salvation, like a tenacious little sprig - a "netzer" - shooting up from places hope should not grow?
The Prophet Isaiah had an answer. And it goes like this:
There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse,
and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit.
2And the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him,
the Spirit of wisdom and understanding,
the Spirit of counsel and might,
the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.
3And his delight shall be in the fear of the Lord.
He shall not judge by what his eyes see,
or decide disputes by what his ears hear,
4but with righteousness he shall judge the poor,
and decide with equity for the meek of the earth;
and he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth,
and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked.
5Righteousness shall be the belt of his waist,
and faithfulness the belt of his loins.
6The wolf shall dwell with the lamb,
and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat,
and the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together;
and a little child shall lead them.
7The cow and the bear shall graze;
their young shall lie down together;
and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.
8The nursing child shall play over the hole of the cobra,
and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder's den.
9They shall not hurt or destroy
in all my holy mountain;
for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord
as the waters cover the sea.
10In that day the root of Jesse, who shall stand as a signal for the peoples—of him shall the nations inquire, and his resting place shall be glorious.
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