God is with us
Commentary
I remember vividly the day when my Hebrew teacher said, “Pastor Sandra, do you recognize this word?” I sounded it out: “E-man-yu-el. Oh! God with us.”
The rabbi smiled. “I thought you would enjoy that.” He was quite pleased to have Christian pastors in his class. These little moments of discovery were more impressive if it was a pastor, because we took such pleasure in these little discoveries. More, we would be sure to tell our parishioners, and that would spread a little knowledge much further. And to the rabbi, the spread of Godly knowledge was of paramount importance.
After years of preaching the birth of Emmanuel, do we still thrill to the discovery of God with us, or do we question if there is anything new to say? Even if there is nothing new to say, it is worth the sermon, for the hearts of the people gathered for this holy day are different every season.
Some people come to church on Christmas glad for the privilege of sitting in the pew, surrounded by Christ-oriented music, bathed in the light of candles, and admiring the tree with decorations they didn’t have anything to do with. They’re exhausted, and tomorrow they have a houseful of people coming. Or they are the shut-ins, who have to rely on others to get them to church. It’s too hard for them to decorate for the holidays, too much to get everything from the basement and then put it away again. They’re grateful that tomorrow they’re invited to their granddaughter’s home for dinner.
Some come to church for the joy of seeing friends and family, to catch up with what’s happening with their church family. Some come for the third time this year, “saving” their attendance for the High Holy Days, but loving the tradition of being here in the special seasons.
Some come to church with a heart full of sorrow. Depression, fear of war, disability, the loss of a job or home or loved ones, a miscarriage, a divorce, or a deadly diagnosis drag them down and they need a word of encouragement.
All of these people need that old, old story, no matter how we dress it up with new music, processionals, and an altar covered with poinsettias or a manger scene. Like a child getting ready for bed, there are times when we need to hear that story one more time, told in the same way, to reassure us that we are approaching a God of mercy, not a God of torment.
This year, the readings begin with the ancient covenant that God offered to David the king, even as God refuses to be restricted to a house built like the house of the king. God turns it around on David: “The Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house?” It sounds suspiciously like a pun.
The New Testament reading from Romans is very short, but packs a good deal of mystical understanding into its three verses. This requires some “unpacking” before we have the full meaning of what Paul calls “his gospel.”
Then, at last, we come to the meeting of Mary and Gabriel, the messenger of God. The archangel calls her “blessed among women” and tells her that something impossible, unheard of, is about to happen to her. Like us, she greets the approach of God with suspicion. What do the words of the angel mean? She may know the adage “You do not want God to pay attention to you.” There is no joy in the possibility of a miraculous pregnancy; who would believe her? She could be beaten, both at home and synagogue. Furthermore, she is engaged; what will her fiancé think? What might he do? The birth of Messiah has been prayed for, but woe to them who birth him. This is a heavy burden, and she is very young. Who among us would trade places with her?
We will weave these pieces together so that we might feel secure in a time in which war and terrorism threaten our way of life. The stories might be the same, but this year may they take on a new meaning for the people we are called upon to care for. May we give some hope to those who need to know that the man named Jesus really is Immanuel, “God With Us.”
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
Chapter seven is the continuation of the story of David becoming king over a united kingdom of Israel and Judah. He has moved from the “City of David” (Bethlehem) to the “City of Peace” (Jerusalem). God has vanquished all David’s enemies. The Ark of the Covenant has come to Jerusalem also, although with much difficulty. The king of Tyre has made an offering of cedar to David for construction of his royal house, and now that that work is completed, a time of upheaval seems to have come to an end.
David has moved into his royal house. It’s lovely, and unusual, for there were few trees suitable for building in the area. Most buildings were of mud brick or stone. It is very much plainer than the palaces of Mesopotamia or Egypt with all their tile work and engravings, for these were forbidden by God.1 David is proud of his house, but he has a sense of proportion -- he thinks it is demeaning to God to keep the Ark of the Covenant (which God is believed to sit on, above the cherubim mounted on top of the Ark2) in a tent while King David lives in a cedar house.
Nathan thought that this was reasonable, and said: “Do it. After all, the Lord is with you.”3 But our view of what is allowed when God is with us is very different from God’s view. That very same night, YHWH came to Nathan. We have no record of how God came. A Voice? A Vision? A Dream? No matter, the message came through loud and clear: “No! Have I ever once said I wanted a house of cedar? There were any number of leaders before you; did any of them ever say I wanted a house of cedar?” Well, no. God was never reported to ask for a house of cedar. Or stone, for that matter. Or brick.
We might suspect that God knew that if David built a palace for the ark, it would be just a blink of an eye before the builders would be decorating that palace with images, which would be offensive to God. There’s that episode of them worshiping a golden calf while Moses was up on Mt. Sinai getting the Ten Commandments from God (which start with “You shall have no other gods before me” and “You shall make no graven images”). There is ample evidence in the Old Testament that many of the practices of Egyptian religion persisted even in Solomon’s Temple.
There are two other reasons embedded in this passage, one stated and one hidden: Who is David to build a house for God? And why should God be separated from the people claimed by God as family?
The idea of God living in a tent as the Hebrews did is an expression of the closeness of the relationship between God and the people. It says that God (who sits upon the Ark) is truly with us, sharing our lot in life. To put God in a temple that resembles the king’s home is to remove God from the midst of the people and to reserve God for the elite, the ruling class. According to Nathan, God doesn’t want to do that. Instead, God promises that the people will have their own place in the world, and that God will protect that place and see to it that they are no longer at the mercy of those who would use and abuse them.
God reminds King David that he would not be king if it were not for God choosing him, grooming him, giving him victories over his enemies, and making him king. David has no right to make this decision for God, nor does God need David’s protection.
This is where the play on words comes in: “Moreover,” says Nathan, “the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house” -- a word also used to designate a dynasty or tribe. It is the promise that leads to the necessity in Jewish thought that the Messiah (Anointed One) must be born of the house and lineage of David. Not that Messiah must be born in Bethlehem, as Matthew says, but that he must be descended from the blood line of King David.
It is this promise that connects this scripture with the birth narratives of the gospels.
Romans 16:25-27
This is the final doxology (praise of God) of the letter that most encapsulates “the gospel according to Paul,” as he himself says in v. 25. It encapsulates Paul’s understanding of the Good News that Jesus represents. In it, he declares that Jesus Christ4 is the messenger of God, sent to not just the Jews but the Gentiles as well. His mission is to reunite God with the people of Earth, not just the Jews (see Isaiah 2).
Of old, the people of God thought that the Messiah would come with angel armies, make war on the enemies of Israel, and establish the kingdom under his own rule. Messiah would, in that way, become King of kings and Lord of lords. All the political powers on earth would be forced to recognize the God of Israel and bow down to him. Then the world would recognize Israel as the only nation to worship the one and only God, and follow Messiah and the God who sent him. The establishment of Zion would draw all the nations of Earth to live in peace.
The Roman empire had not, however, gotten that memo. They had their own religion, and imposed it on every nation they brought under the Roman eagle. A temple to the Caesar was to be erected in every city, and the people were required to pledge their allegiance to Rome by burning incense before the altar, making this a religious as well as a political act. This put the Christians and Jews in a bind -- if they didn’t do this, they were traitors; if they did, they were unfaithful to God.
This is the problem for which the Christians in Rome needed strength. Paul starts by saying, “To the one who is able to strengthen you,” which in the NRSV is simply put as “God.” Paul is an educated Jew, trained in one of the finest Jewish schools of his day, and therefore he is not likely to say the name of God, or even say the word “God,” as forbidden by the commandment “Do not take the Lord’s name in vain.” We today make a distinction between misusing the name and saying it. But part of the avoidance comes from the idea that it’s better not to attract the attention of God unless it’s necessary; as Hebrews 10:31 says, “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.”
The second thing Paul refers to is “the revelation of the mystery that was kept secret for long ages but is now disclosed.” Paul refers to “the mystery (secret)” that Christ came to reveal in several places in his letters.5
He is upholding what Isaiah said in Isaiah 2, and also the promise made to David in v. 10 of our Old Testament reading. The beginning of the secret is the promise that David’s house would be preserved; later, it was understood that Messiah would come from the “house and lineage of David.” This makes the Davidic line immortal as well.
Isaiah’s prophecy was that God wants everyone in the world to have faith in the kindness of God, and to be obedient to God’s rules so we may live in peace. Jesus demonstrated that love by accepting his death and being resurrected from the dead. In 1 Corinthians 15, Paul proclaims the heart of the mystery to which he keeps referring: “The last enemy to be destroyed is death” (v. 26), for Jesus was raised from the dead so that we might be as well. The great mystery of our faith is that we are destined for eternal life, not death. All of this is a sign of the love God holds for us. Unfortunately, that too has been a secret down through the ages. Not only does God love the Jews, who God calls his/her children, God loves all people everywhere, who are all descended from the first man and woman. No matter how different we may look, sound, or do, we are all brothers and sisters according to God.
“The obedience of faith” that Paul refers to is the only thing God asks of us. But we have done a poor job of communicating that revelation to the world. Paul struggled with the early church to understand that the Gentiles were as much a part of God’s plan as the Jews. The first and, in some ways, the fiercest battle within in the community was the inclusion of Gentiles just as they were, without the need for circumcision. It took special revelations to both Paul and Peter to change that. Even today, we would rather squabble over who is worthy to be part of the community of Christ than to open our hearts to those who are different from us. Can we lay hold of this promise of acceptance for others as well as ourselves, remembering that in the first years of the Church we were the outcasts?
This is reason to praise God, Paul says. Jesus Christ is the instrument by which the secret has been revealed, and therefore we come to God “through Jesus Christ.” We still fear to come to God just as we are, remembering that God knows we can never measure up even to our own flawed standards. [The secret is that God knows.]
Undoubtedly, this is why God comes to us as a helpless infant. Who is afraid of a baby?
In my early adulthood, I was introduced to horseback riding by a woman who lived across the hall from me. She had had years of training, while I had not. I was very tentative around horses, because I had been told stories of horses kicking and doing serious damage to those who didn’t approach properly. I was clumsy, and getting up onto a horse was a problem. The stablemaster watched me and then brought an Arabian mare for me to ride. She was smaller than those horses that just anyone could ride. Her owner couldn’t afford to pay her boarding bill, so the stablemaster promised her not to put her to being ridden by casual riders. So we were introduced to each other, and I fed her an apple, piece by piece. She bunted me for more, but I had only the one, so I petted her muzzle as she chuffed at me.
After that introduction, we set out for a group ride through woods on the property. I got used to her, and she to me. I learned to trust her, and she learned I would not hurt her. For several weeks we rode, until one Saturday I got out of the car and she whickered and trotted over to the fence that separated us. We had accomplished what the stablemaster knew could happen: I had lost my fear of horses, and she had learned that more people could love her than just her owner.
This is the secret of our religion: we do not need to fear God. If we start small -- with a baby -- we can learn that God is willing to put himself at risk in order to overcome the barrier that has grown up between us. To God be the glory! The plan works!
Now it is our responsibility to communicate that to our people.
Luke 1:26-38
Luke’s story of Jesus’ birth comes in the middle of another story -- the story of Zechariah, a priest, and his wife, Elizabeth, a descendant of Aaron (the other priestly order). There were so many men descended from Abijah that they rotated in service at the Temple in Jerusalem. Zechariah was called to serve, and chosen by lot to make the evening incense offering. There is a hidden meaning to this choosing -- the temple officials used drawing lots as a means of letting God make the choice. (The early church did the same; seeActs 1:20-26.) As he was doing this, he was met by the archangel Gabriel, who is the one God sends with important messages.6 Gabriel told Zechariah that his wife Elizabeth was going to have a baby, and that child would be a prophet. They were to name him John.
Now, Zechariah was an old man, and his wife was past her childbearing years, so the priest dismissed Gabriel’s words as impossible. Gabriel must have been having a bad day, because he cursed Zechariah, telling him that for his lack of faith he would be unable to speak until the baby was born. This child, Gabriel said, would be the embodiment of the prophet Elijah, the greatest prophet of the ancient kingdom, and the prophet who was supposed to come back to announce the Messiah. Or, as Gabriel says, he would go before the face of God to prepare the way. Thus, without saying so outright, Gabriel told Zechariah that Jesus was the embodiment of God (the Incarnation, from the Latin in carne, or “in the meat/flesh”), and John would be the forerunner spoken of in Isaiah 40:3.
Zechariah goes home to his wife, and she becomes pregnant. She remains secluded for the first five months of her pregnancy. This is undoubtedly because at her age there was a more than average chance of miscarriage. We are told that she was considered to be barren, but that does not preclude the possibility that she may have miscarried early in one or more pregnancies. Today we know that large numbers of women do lose their fetuses in the first month or two, and the only one who has any idea is the woman -- and maybe she doesn’t recognize this fact either.
This is why our passage for today begins “in the sixth month” -- it means in the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy. The same angel who talked to her husband was sent to a town in Galilee called Nazareth. And here we could pause to quibble: was there a town named Nazareth in Jesus’ day or not? If it was a city, why is it never named anywhere in the historical records of the time? If it was a tiny town, why would anyone know anything about the town or its residents (for example, Nathaniel’s comment “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” in John’s gospel). But if there really was no such town, what’s the meaning of Jesus of Nazareth? This has often been answered with the assertion that Jesus was a Nazirite, citing the strictures placed on his cousin John. A Nazirite was a person (man or woman) who wanted to dedicate him or herself more completely to God. (See Numbers 6:3-7 for the particulars.) The Hebrew word nazir from which the term derives means a root, or a branch that grows out of a root, which is applied to the Messiah in Isaiah 43. Entire articles have been written on this subject, so we’re not going to explore this fully. I only want to say that this discussion has been heating up again, and it’s good to be prepared for questions people may have picked up from some of the anti-Christian writers who are so popular.
Back to the lectionary passage.
“Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women.” Mary is confused. What kind of a greeting is this? She might well wonder if this man is Roman, because the greeting starts with “Ave!” (which is not apparent in this translation but is in older versions).
Maybe she wonders what he means by “Blessed are you...” She is young, living in a small, impoverished town, going about her daily business, when she is accosted by this man. [Remember, angels usually look like nothing more than a human being when they come to a person.7]
Mary is not being simple. This is a confusing encounter. The angel tells her that she has come to God’s attention (oh no!) and that God is going to have her become pregnant with a son, whom she is to name Jesus. The angel goes on to say that this baby will be great, and will inherit David’s throne. And he will rule forever. He will be called the Son of the Most High (another euphemism for God). There is a promise that she will be held in high esteem because of this baby.
But Mary veers back to get one thing straight: “How will this happen? I’m not sexually active.” Oh yes, that is what “I do not know a man” means. And just in case we might miss this, the NRSV quotes her as saying “I am a virgin.” The Jews avoided the idea that God might have impregnated her. That was for the Roman gods, who were rather promiscuous. Most of the great heroes in Roman literature were born when one of the gods took a woman, and the Early Church was anxious to avoid that scenario. Rather, God’s power “will overshadow you.” And rather than being like the Roman heroes, who could be rascals, Jesus “(the child to be born of you) will be holy….”
Gabriel has a sign for Mary to hold on to, to know that this is from God. He tells her that her relative, Elizabeth, who was evidently unable to have a child, is now six months pregnant. This is where he says, “For nothing will be impossible with God.” So this young girl packs a bag and heads for Elizabeth and Zechariah’s house in the Judean hills.
Mary, as we know, was betrothed to a man named Joseph. She leaves him behind to make this trip. She has agreed to God’s plan, but she still has fears. If she is going to be disgraced, she wants to know that this is truly in God’s hands. Having a baby is a big enough event for a solidly married woman, older than Mary. She doesn’t need the added burden of doubt. The angel is gone, and so, for now, is Mary.
Again we have the secret nature of the Jesus story. Mary must preserve her secret. If it gets out that she is pregnant, she at least will be shamed, and so will her fiancé. He has the right to be intimate with Mary, since their betrothal is a public thing, but when people see her pregnant, they will tease him, at the very least, with finger-wagging and raised eyebrows. If he denies he is the father she will be an outcast, despised and held up as an example to other girls in the village. They cannot stone her as they would have under Solomonic law -- the Romans forbid it. But words can hurt as much as any stick or stone. So off she goes. We have no idea if she told anyone before she embarked on her journey, the first of several in her young life.
What we do know is that this young woman is in the center of a secret that God is about to reveal -- the savior of the world, God in the form of a baby, is coming. The hope we all have is about to be born from a girl who has yet to know what that really means. She will go to a town she has never seen, give birth far from home, in a stable, without her mother to help her. As the song says, “It’s such a strange way to save the world.”8
1 YHWH forbade the use of graven images, to distinguish the Hebrews from the religions around them. See Exodus 20:4.
2 2 Samuel 6:2, 1 Samuel 4:4
3 “The Lord” is inserted in the text in place of the ancient name YHWH -- which is deliberately unpronounceable, having no vowels and consisting of breathed consonants rather than hard sounds.
4 Christ is the English equivalent of the Greek Christos, which in turn equates with Messiah in Hebrew. All of these words refer to “the Anointed One,” a title that is applied to prophets in the Old Testament, and even to Cyrus the Mede, who overthrew the Babylonian empire and allowed the Jews to return to Jerusalem to rebuild their city and Temple. In doing this, he did the work of God to rescue the Jews from Exile and reestablish their culture and kingdom, and this makes him a tool in the hand of God for the redemption of the people.
5 i.e., the secret See also: Romans 11:25; 1st Corinthians 2:1 & 15:51; Colossians 1:26-27, 2:2 & 4:3. Other writers of New Testament letters follow suit. See Ephesians 1:9, 3:3-5, 9; 5:32; & 6:19; 1 Timothy 3:9, 14 & 16.
6 It was the angel Gabriel who was sent to Mohammed, according to Islamic belief, to tell him to prophesy. When Mohammed said he didn’t know how, Gabriel told him to open his mouth and the words would pour out. When Mohammed objected again, Gabriel picked him up by his feet and shook him, telling him to prophesy. Which Mohammed did, and so the Koran was produced.
7 SeeGenesis 18:2; 32:26-32 for examples.
8 Songwriters: David Allen Clark, Donald A. Koch, Mark R. Harris © Universal Music Publishing Group, Capitol Christian Music Group
The rabbi smiled. “I thought you would enjoy that.” He was quite pleased to have Christian pastors in his class. These little moments of discovery were more impressive if it was a pastor, because we took such pleasure in these little discoveries. More, we would be sure to tell our parishioners, and that would spread a little knowledge much further. And to the rabbi, the spread of Godly knowledge was of paramount importance.
After years of preaching the birth of Emmanuel, do we still thrill to the discovery of God with us, or do we question if there is anything new to say? Even if there is nothing new to say, it is worth the sermon, for the hearts of the people gathered for this holy day are different every season.
Some people come to church on Christmas glad for the privilege of sitting in the pew, surrounded by Christ-oriented music, bathed in the light of candles, and admiring the tree with decorations they didn’t have anything to do with. They’re exhausted, and tomorrow they have a houseful of people coming. Or they are the shut-ins, who have to rely on others to get them to church. It’s too hard for them to decorate for the holidays, too much to get everything from the basement and then put it away again. They’re grateful that tomorrow they’re invited to their granddaughter’s home for dinner.
Some come to church for the joy of seeing friends and family, to catch up with what’s happening with their church family. Some come for the third time this year, “saving” their attendance for the High Holy Days, but loving the tradition of being here in the special seasons.
Some come to church with a heart full of sorrow. Depression, fear of war, disability, the loss of a job or home or loved ones, a miscarriage, a divorce, or a deadly diagnosis drag them down and they need a word of encouragement.
All of these people need that old, old story, no matter how we dress it up with new music, processionals, and an altar covered with poinsettias or a manger scene. Like a child getting ready for bed, there are times when we need to hear that story one more time, told in the same way, to reassure us that we are approaching a God of mercy, not a God of torment.
This year, the readings begin with the ancient covenant that God offered to David the king, even as God refuses to be restricted to a house built like the house of the king. God turns it around on David: “The Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house?” It sounds suspiciously like a pun.
The New Testament reading from Romans is very short, but packs a good deal of mystical understanding into its three verses. This requires some “unpacking” before we have the full meaning of what Paul calls “his gospel.”
Then, at last, we come to the meeting of Mary and Gabriel, the messenger of God. The archangel calls her “blessed among women” and tells her that something impossible, unheard of, is about to happen to her. Like us, she greets the approach of God with suspicion. What do the words of the angel mean? She may know the adage “You do not want God to pay attention to you.” There is no joy in the possibility of a miraculous pregnancy; who would believe her? She could be beaten, both at home and synagogue. Furthermore, she is engaged; what will her fiancé think? What might he do? The birth of Messiah has been prayed for, but woe to them who birth him. This is a heavy burden, and she is very young. Who among us would trade places with her?
We will weave these pieces together so that we might feel secure in a time in which war and terrorism threaten our way of life. The stories might be the same, but this year may they take on a new meaning for the people we are called upon to care for. May we give some hope to those who need to know that the man named Jesus really is Immanuel, “God With Us.”
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
Chapter seven is the continuation of the story of David becoming king over a united kingdom of Israel and Judah. He has moved from the “City of David” (Bethlehem) to the “City of Peace” (Jerusalem). God has vanquished all David’s enemies. The Ark of the Covenant has come to Jerusalem also, although with much difficulty. The king of Tyre has made an offering of cedar to David for construction of his royal house, and now that that work is completed, a time of upheaval seems to have come to an end.
David has moved into his royal house. It’s lovely, and unusual, for there were few trees suitable for building in the area. Most buildings were of mud brick or stone. It is very much plainer than the palaces of Mesopotamia or Egypt with all their tile work and engravings, for these were forbidden by God.1 David is proud of his house, but he has a sense of proportion -- he thinks it is demeaning to God to keep the Ark of the Covenant (which God is believed to sit on, above the cherubim mounted on top of the Ark2) in a tent while King David lives in a cedar house.
Nathan thought that this was reasonable, and said: “Do it. After all, the Lord is with you.”3 But our view of what is allowed when God is with us is very different from God’s view. That very same night, YHWH came to Nathan. We have no record of how God came. A Voice? A Vision? A Dream? No matter, the message came through loud and clear: “No! Have I ever once said I wanted a house of cedar? There were any number of leaders before you; did any of them ever say I wanted a house of cedar?” Well, no. God was never reported to ask for a house of cedar. Or stone, for that matter. Or brick.
We might suspect that God knew that if David built a palace for the ark, it would be just a blink of an eye before the builders would be decorating that palace with images, which would be offensive to God. There’s that episode of them worshiping a golden calf while Moses was up on Mt. Sinai getting the Ten Commandments from God (which start with “You shall have no other gods before me” and “You shall make no graven images”). There is ample evidence in the Old Testament that many of the practices of Egyptian religion persisted even in Solomon’s Temple.
There are two other reasons embedded in this passage, one stated and one hidden: Who is David to build a house for God? And why should God be separated from the people claimed by God as family?
The idea of God living in a tent as the Hebrews did is an expression of the closeness of the relationship between God and the people. It says that God (who sits upon the Ark) is truly with us, sharing our lot in life. To put God in a temple that resembles the king’s home is to remove God from the midst of the people and to reserve God for the elite, the ruling class. According to Nathan, God doesn’t want to do that. Instead, God promises that the people will have their own place in the world, and that God will protect that place and see to it that they are no longer at the mercy of those who would use and abuse them.
God reminds King David that he would not be king if it were not for God choosing him, grooming him, giving him victories over his enemies, and making him king. David has no right to make this decision for God, nor does God need David’s protection.
This is where the play on words comes in: “Moreover,” says Nathan, “the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house” -- a word also used to designate a dynasty or tribe. It is the promise that leads to the necessity in Jewish thought that the Messiah (Anointed One) must be born of the house and lineage of David. Not that Messiah must be born in Bethlehem, as Matthew says, but that he must be descended from the blood line of King David.
It is this promise that connects this scripture with the birth narratives of the gospels.
Romans 16:25-27
This is the final doxology (praise of God) of the letter that most encapsulates “the gospel according to Paul,” as he himself says in v. 25. It encapsulates Paul’s understanding of the Good News that Jesus represents. In it, he declares that Jesus Christ4 is the messenger of God, sent to not just the Jews but the Gentiles as well. His mission is to reunite God with the people of Earth, not just the Jews (see Isaiah 2).
Of old, the people of God thought that the Messiah would come with angel armies, make war on the enemies of Israel, and establish the kingdom under his own rule. Messiah would, in that way, become King of kings and Lord of lords. All the political powers on earth would be forced to recognize the God of Israel and bow down to him. Then the world would recognize Israel as the only nation to worship the one and only God, and follow Messiah and the God who sent him. The establishment of Zion would draw all the nations of Earth to live in peace.
The Roman empire had not, however, gotten that memo. They had their own religion, and imposed it on every nation they brought under the Roman eagle. A temple to the Caesar was to be erected in every city, and the people were required to pledge their allegiance to Rome by burning incense before the altar, making this a religious as well as a political act. This put the Christians and Jews in a bind -- if they didn’t do this, they were traitors; if they did, they were unfaithful to God.
This is the problem for which the Christians in Rome needed strength. Paul starts by saying, “To the one who is able to strengthen you,” which in the NRSV is simply put as “God.” Paul is an educated Jew, trained in one of the finest Jewish schools of his day, and therefore he is not likely to say the name of God, or even say the word “God,” as forbidden by the commandment “Do not take the Lord’s name in vain.” We today make a distinction between misusing the name and saying it. But part of the avoidance comes from the idea that it’s better not to attract the attention of God unless it’s necessary; as Hebrews 10:31 says, “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.”
The second thing Paul refers to is “the revelation of the mystery that was kept secret for long ages but is now disclosed.” Paul refers to “the mystery (secret)” that Christ came to reveal in several places in his letters.5
He is upholding what Isaiah said in Isaiah 2, and also the promise made to David in v. 10 of our Old Testament reading. The beginning of the secret is the promise that David’s house would be preserved; later, it was understood that Messiah would come from the “house and lineage of David.” This makes the Davidic line immortal as well.
Isaiah’s prophecy was that God wants everyone in the world to have faith in the kindness of God, and to be obedient to God’s rules so we may live in peace. Jesus demonstrated that love by accepting his death and being resurrected from the dead. In 1 Corinthians 15, Paul proclaims the heart of the mystery to which he keeps referring: “The last enemy to be destroyed is death” (v. 26), for Jesus was raised from the dead so that we might be as well. The great mystery of our faith is that we are destined for eternal life, not death. All of this is a sign of the love God holds for us. Unfortunately, that too has been a secret down through the ages. Not only does God love the Jews, who God calls his/her children, God loves all people everywhere, who are all descended from the first man and woman. No matter how different we may look, sound, or do, we are all brothers and sisters according to God.
“The obedience of faith” that Paul refers to is the only thing God asks of us. But we have done a poor job of communicating that revelation to the world. Paul struggled with the early church to understand that the Gentiles were as much a part of God’s plan as the Jews. The first and, in some ways, the fiercest battle within in the community was the inclusion of Gentiles just as they were, without the need for circumcision. It took special revelations to both Paul and Peter to change that. Even today, we would rather squabble over who is worthy to be part of the community of Christ than to open our hearts to those who are different from us. Can we lay hold of this promise of acceptance for others as well as ourselves, remembering that in the first years of the Church we were the outcasts?
This is reason to praise God, Paul says. Jesus Christ is the instrument by which the secret has been revealed, and therefore we come to God “through Jesus Christ.” We still fear to come to God just as we are, remembering that God knows we can never measure up even to our own flawed standards. [The secret is that God knows.]
Undoubtedly, this is why God comes to us as a helpless infant. Who is afraid of a baby?
In my early adulthood, I was introduced to horseback riding by a woman who lived across the hall from me. She had had years of training, while I had not. I was very tentative around horses, because I had been told stories of horses kicking and doing serious damage to those who didn’t approach properly. I was clumsy, and getting up onto a horse was a problem. The stablemaster watched me and then brought an Arabian mare for me to ride. She was smaller than those horses that just anyone could ride. Her owner couldn’t afford to pay her boarding bill, so the stablemaster promised her not to put her to being ridden by casual riders. So we were introduced to each other, and I fed her an apple, piece by piece. She bunted me for more, but I had only the one, so I petted her muzzle as she chuffed at me.
After that introduction, we set out for a group ride through woods on the property. I got used to her, and she to me. I learned to trust her, and she learned I would not hurt her. For several weeks we rode, until one Saturday I got out of the car and she whickered and trotted over to the fence that separated us. We had accomplished what the stablemaster knew could happen: I had lost my fear of horses, and she had learned that more people could love her than just her owner.
This is the secret of our religion: we do not need to fear God. If we start small -- with a baby -- we can learn that God is willing to put himself at risk in order to overcome the barrier that has grown up between us. To God be the glory! The plan works!
Now it is our responsibility to communicate that to our people.
Luke 1:26-38
Luke’s story of Jesus’ birth comes in the middle of another story -- the story of Zechariah, a priest, and his wife, Elizabeth, a descendant of Aaron (the other priestly order). There were so many men descended from Abijah that they rotated in service at the Temple in Jerusalem. Zechariah was called to serve, and chosen by lot to make the evening incense offering. There is a hidden meaning to this choosing -- the temple officials used drawing lots as a means of letting God make the choice. (The early church did the same; seeActs 1:20-26.) As he was doing this, he was met by the archangel Gabriel, who is the one God sends with important messages.6 Gabriel told Zechariah that his wife Elizabeth was going to have a baby, and that child would be a prophet. They were to name him John.
Now, Zechariah was an old man, and his wife was past her childbearing years, so the priest dismissed Gabriel’s words as impossible. Gabriel must have been having a bad day, because he cursed Zechariah, telling him that for his lack of faith he would be unable to speak until the baby was born. This child, Gabriel said, would be the embodiment of the prophet Elijah, the greatest prophet of the ancient kingdom, and the prophet who was supposed to come back to announce the Messiah. Or, as Gabriel says, he would go before the face of God to prepare the way. Thus, without saying so outright, Gabriel told Zechariah that Jesus was the embodiment of God (the Incarnation, from the Latin in carne, or “in the meat/flesh”), and John would be the forerunner spoken of in Isaiah 40:3.
Zechariah goes home to his wife, and she becomes pregnant. She remains secluded for the first five months of her pregnancy. This is undoubtedly because at her age there was a more than average chance of miscarriage. We are told that she was considered to be barren, but that does not preclude the possibility that she may have miscarried early in one or more pregnancies. Today we know that large numbers of women do lose their fetuses in the first month or two, and the only one who has any idea is the woman -- and maybe she doesn’t recognize this fact either.
This is why our passage for today begins “in the sixth month” -- it means in the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy. The same angel who talked to her husband was sent to a town in Galilee called Nazareth. And here we could pause to quibble: was there a town named Nazareth in Jesus’ day or not? If it was a city, why is it never named anywhere in the historical records of the time? If it was a tiny town, why would anyone know anything about the town or its residents (for example, Nathaniel’s comment “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” in John’s gospel). But if there really was no such town, what’s the meaning of Jesus of Nazareth? This has often been answered with the assertion that Jesus was a Nazirite, citing the strictures placed on his cousin John. A Nazirite was a person (man or woman) who wanted to dedicate him or herself more completely to God. (See Numbers 6:3-7 for the particulars.) The Hebrew word nazir from which the term derives means a root, or a branch that grows out of a root, which is applied to the Messiah in Isaiah 43. Entire articles have been written on this subject, so we’re not going to explore this fully. I only want to say that this discussion has been heating up again, and it’s good to be prepared for questions people may have picked up from some of the anti-Christian writers who are so popular.
Back to the lectionary passage.
“Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women.” Mary is confused. What kind of a greeting is this? She might well wonder if this man is Roman, because the greeting starts with “Ave!” (which is not apparent in this translation but is in older versions).
Maybe she wonders what he means by “Blessed are you...” She is young, living in a small, impoverished town, going about her daily business, when she is accosted by this man. [Remember, angels usually look like nothing more than a human being when they come to a person.7]
Mary is not being simple. This is a confusing encounter. The angel tells her that she has come to God’s attention (oh no!) and that God is going to have her become pregnant with a son, whom she is to name Jesus. The angel goes on to say that this baby will be great, and will inherit David’s throne. And he will rule forever. He will be called the Son of the Most High (another euphemism for God). There is a promise that she will be held in high esteem because of this baby.
But Mary veers back to get one thing straight: “How will this happen? I’m not sexually active.” Oh yes, that is what “I do not know a man” means. And just in case we might miss this, the NRSV quotes her as saying “I am a virgin.” The Jews avoided the idea that God might have impregnated her. That was for the Roman gods, who were rather promiscuous. Most of the great heroes in Roman literature were born when one of the gods took a woman, and the Early Church was anxious to avoid that scenario. Rather, God’s power “will overshadow you.” And rather than being like the Roman heroes, who could be rascals, Jesus “(the child to be born of you) will be holy….”
Gabriel has a sign for Mary to hold on to, to know that this is from God. He tells her that her relative, Elizabeth, who was evidently unable to have a child, is now six months pregnant. This is where he says, “For nothing will be impossible with God.” So this young girl packs a bag and heads for Elizabeth and Zechariah’s house in the Judean hills.
Mary, as we know, was betrothed to a man named Joseph. She leaves him behind to make this trip. She has agreed to God’s plan, but she still has fears. If she is going to be disgraced, she wants to know that this is truly in God’s hands. Having a baby is a big enough event for a solidly married woman, older than Mary. She doesn’t need the added burden of doubt. The angel is gone, and so, for now, is Mary.
Again we have the secret nature of the Jesus story. Mary must preserve her secret. If it gets out that she is pregnant, she at least will be shamed, and so will her fiancé. He has the right to be intimate with Mary, since their betrothal is a public thing, but when people see her pregnant, they will tease him, at the very least, with finger-wagging and raised eyebrows. If he denies he is the father she will be an outcast, despised and held up as an example to other girls in the village. They cannot stone her as they would have under Solomonic law -- the Romans forbid it. But words can hurt as much as any stick or stone. So off she goes. We have no idea if she told anyone before she embarked on her journey, the first of several in her young life.
What we do know is that this young woman is in the center of a secret that God is about to reveal -- the savior of the world, God in the form of a baby, is coming. The hope we all have is about to be born from a girl who has yet to know what that really means. She will go to a town she has never seen, give birth far from home, in a stable, without her mother to help her. As the song says, “It’s such a strange way to save the world.”8
1 YHWH forbade the use of graven images, to distinguish the Hebrews from the religions around them. See Exodus 20:4.
2 2 Samuel 6:2, 1 Samuel 4:4
3 “The Lord” is inserted in the text in place of the ancient name YHWH -- which is deliberately unpronounceable, having no vowels and consisting of breathed consonants rather than hard sounds.
4 Christ is the English equivalent of the Greek Christos, which in turn equates with Messiah in Hebrew. All of these words refer to “the Anointed One,” a title that is applied to prophets in the Old Testament, and even to Cyrus the Mede, who overthrew the Babylonian empire and allowed the Jews to return to Jerusalem to rebuild their city and Temple. In doing this, he did the work of God to rescue the Jews from Exile and reestablish their culture and kingdom, and this makes him a tool in the hand of God for the redemption of the people.
5 i.e., the secret See also: Romans 11:25; 1st Corinthians 2:1 & 15:51; Colossians 1:26-27, 2:2 & 4:3. Other writers of New Testament letters follow suit. See Ephesians 1:9, 3:3-5, 9; 5:32; & 6:19; 1 Timothy 3:9, 14 & 16.
6 It was the angel Gabriel who was sent to Mohammed, according to Islamic belief, to tell him to prophesy. When Mohammed said he didn’t know how, Gabriel told him to open his mouth and the words would pour out. When Mohammed objected again, Gabriel picked him up by his feet and shook him, telling him to prophesy. Which Mohammed did, and so the Koran was produced.
7 SeeGenesis 18:2; 32:26-32 for examples.
8 Songwriters: David Allen Clark, Donald A. Koch, Mark R. Harris © Universal Music Publishing Group, Capitol Christian Music Group
