“THE GOD BEARER”

Scripture Lesson:  Luke 1: 26-38

Dr. Matthew Brown

December 18, 2005

 

Maybe it was because she was so young.  In reading this story we do not cease to be amazed that God would approach this unlikely juvenile candidate to be the bearer of the divine.  Our surprise only swells when we read about this culture so foreign to us where it was the common practice for girls 11 or 12 to become engaged/betrothed.

 

The silken photoed engagement announcements in our Sunday morning paper speak of young women educated at the finest schools in the land who are already engaged in work that has taken them to exotic places and given them weighty responsibilities.  She’s a teacher, a lawyer, a bank examiner, an engineer.  And yet, it could be that Mary was at an age when we would be hounding her to remember to brush her teeth as she whines about wanting Diesels instead of Wranglers.  Engagement?  Betrothal?  At that age, saying you “like” someone for more than a week constitutes a long term relationship.

 

Does it make sense to entrust the messiah, the savior to her care and nurture? Does it compute to choose an adolescent to be the one to introduce the savior of the nations to His world?  One moment she’s chastising him for not looking for chariots before he crosses the road and the next moment he’s feeding five thousand with one hand and stilling the storm with the other.  Is one so young, so inexperienced, so lacking in worldly sophistication the best pick for such a monumental task?

 

We never cease to be amazed that God would, out of all possible profiles, choose someone like Mary.

And yet, maybe it was because she was so young.  As someone in our Bible study this week so perceptively suggested, in a way it makes sense.  You see, at that age there is still an openness, spontaneity, a willingness to act, to choose before dissecting every possible permutation and consequence.  At that age, you are still willing to consider the possibility that an adult would say something worth hearing and assimilating.  Another year or two later the arms are crossed, the frown is fixed, the cloud of skepticism is forever blocking any rays of adult wisdom.

O, not everyone becomes so cynical, so soon.  In seminary I had a great and trusted friend nicknamed Mongo for reasons we won’t delve into today.  Mongo had a great laugh and made marvelous company because if you ever said anything even modestly humorous, he would laugh and smile as though it was the funniest witticism ever uttered.  It was like having Ed McMahon riding with you whenever you went out. 

 

And so, if you were headed out, even if it were just to go to the convenience mart for such grad. school staples as Cheese-Its and other preservative rich, hermetically sealed, plasticized snack products, you wanted Mongo to come along for company.  And you could always count on Mongo to go with you.  He was a monument to spontaneity.   “Let’s go skiing.”  “Let’s go to Virginia Beach.”  “Let’s go to the Smithsonian.”  “Let’s go to 7-11.”  “Let’s go to Mars.”

 

“Sure, I’ll go.”  Mongo’s only hesitation would be the time it took to get his coat and keys. 

 

But in that way Mongo was a bit of an aberration.  As the years draw us to the age of majority we become learned in the art of calendar coordinating and social side-stepping.  “O, I’d love to but I have a previous commitment.”  “Thank you so much for asking, but I have to leave town the next day.”  “It’s an honor to be considered, but I must decline so that I can focus on my work.”  “Can’t we just be friends?”  “I’m sorry, but I have a dentist’s appointment.”  “Let me think about it and I’ll e-mail you by tomorrow.”

 

We become masters at avoiding encumbrance.  I’m not committing to anything until I have the chance to completely over-analyze it.  If you see me just staring at a shelf in the grocery aisle, you can bet I’m most likely over thinking yet another purchase.  “Did she want the sweet cherries or the tart cherries?  And was it Comstock, Luck’s or the store brand?  What’s the expiration date on the can?  Is that one in the back newer?  And hey, the label on this one is a little different.  Did it come from a different place?”

 

We live in an age when commitment is a fear fomenting idea.  A few years ago there was a landmark sociological study exposing the decrease in the level of involvement in any number of organizations and activities.  Entitled “Bowling Alone” it examined decreasing commitment in everything from the Rotary Club to the church to the bowling league.  We are a people wary of committing ourselves to a particular purpose, mission, challenge much less the purchase of a can of cherries.  I guess life really isn’t a bowl of cherries.

 

Put me in Mary’s position and the angel would have given up in disgust and headed back to the home office.  “He can’t even decide which baked beans he should buy.  How’s he going to commit himself to this?”

 

Maybe it’s because Mary was so young that she was tapped for this task.  She had not yet wrapped herself in the insulation of rationalization and excuse.  Where doubt and skepticism and fear and self-interest so hinder our capacity to heed the call to faith, Mary’s response is characterized by a word with which we are so uncomfortable - obedience. 

 

God calls and Mary says yes when we would be asking to see an annual report and a long range plan.  God calls and Mary says yes, haltingly - already sensing that this is one heavy assignment - but yes, nevertheless.  And here’s the difference.  We tend to look at everything in regards to the opportunity - What’s in it for me?  What is the cost/benefit ratio?  How will this affect my resume?  What’s the time commitment?  I’ll participate but I won’t lead it. 

 

Yet Mary places before us an alternative model.  It wasn’t about the opportunity.  It was who asked.

It wasn’t as though Mary had been born for this, every step of her life preparing her for this moment.  I had a college roommate who knew at the age of eight that he was going to be a sportswriter.  When I was a third grader out pushing a Tonka truck in the Missouri dirt he and a friend were sitting inside a Pittsburgh bungalow with a notebook conducting a mock NFL Draft.  I envied those who just knew that they were born to something be it farming, education, or ornithology.  But we see no signs that Mary had been preparing herself for this moment.  It wasn’t about the opportunity.  It was about who asked.  Martin Luther translated Mary’s response like this.  “I am only the workshop in which God operates.”

 

Are we so willing to answer the call to discipleship? 

 

Years ago here in Charlotte there was an internationally known preacher with a flair for language and a rich, deep southern voice.  His name was Carlyle Marney and he served the congregation of Myers Park Baptist Church.  Some years later he was preaching at Duke Chapel and told the congregation about the Sunday he slipped into the back pew of a church he had previously served just to check-in and see how his successor was fairing. 

 

He hadn’t had much of a chance to sit in the back of a sanctuary and as he looked at his former congregation, he realized he had never seen the back of their necks.  He noticed something peculiar.  He couldn’t help but see how all their necks seemed to stiffen in church.  Reflecting on that moment, he would say, “We all have ways of defending ourselves against the Gospel.”

 

William Sloane Coffin said, “Many of us Christians who feel so at home in our churches may, in fact, be miles away from God.”

 

Maybe Karl Barth said it best when he observed, “Many people go to church to make their last stand against God.”

What defenses have we mustered in life to protect us from the call of God?  How long before we realize what William Willimon observed after years of working with students at Duke?  He said, “There are few things more sad than an uncalled life.”

 

We gather in poinsettia besotted, candlelit sanctuaries carrying with us all our doubts and skepticisms and logical reasons that we should not invest ourselves too heavily in the enterprise of faith unless the capital gains are sufficiently sizable.  We are armed and dangerous, ready to defend ourselves against the call of God and the Gospel.  And we hear a surprising story of an adolescent girl who considered not the opportunity cost but only who was asking the question.

 

It is said that Martin Luther saw three miracles in Christ’s nativity:  “God became human, a virgin conceived, and Mary believed.”  Luther’s biographer says that in Luther’s mind, the greatest miracle was the last.

 

It wasn’t because of the opportunity.  It was because who asked.  What about you?

 

Maybe Mary was called because she was so young and her heart so warm and her neck so loose.  Maybe we should pray, regardless of our age, that our “mature” hearts have not grown too cold or our necks too stiff.         

 

Amen.

 

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