Gabriel’s Visit

Robert E. Hall
Tarrytown United Methodist Church

December 21, 2008

It usually hits me with the force of a still small voice. I may be mulling things over: a problem or a decision I must make soon. And then, from out of somewhere (my memory bank?) a phrase or a word comes to me; or I envision some action. “Of course, why didn’t I think of that before?” And though I am not the mystical type, I ask myself, “Where did that come from?”

Imagine this: I find myself thinking of a friend who is going through tough times. I begin to feel what my friend must be feeling. I begin to worry about him. And in my listening heart, I hear the command, “Call him.” Is this my conscience? Or is this some command or invitation which comes to me----I can only use human language---from beyond myself. There is nothing particularly miraculous about such occurrences: just a part of everyday life.

And every now and then, when I am especially vulnerable, a phrase of a hymn or other music, finds its way into my consciousness.  “Jesus Savior Lord, lo to thee I fly, Saranam, Saranam, Saranam; thou the Rock, my refuge that’s higher than I: Saranam, Saranam, Saranam.”

Or, “Surely it is God who saves me; I will trust in him and not be afraid. For the Lord is my stronghold and my sure defense, and he will be my savior.” (Isaiah 12: 2-6)
Now, I ask you: are these hints of a divine presence? Or is my mind simply accessing a memory?

I tell you of these occurrences not to claim some special ability to receive divine messages. To the contrary: I am, most of the time, oblivious. I am forgetful and only half awake to surprising insights in daily life.

And I am also aware of the dangers of attributing insights or notions to God.

I was told by a friend some years ago that he had left his previous church because, when the church would make decisions, the pastor would come back later and reverse the decisions because he had prayed about it and God had told him to do things differently. Apparently, the pastor was of the opinion that God was more likely to guide the church through him than through any committee.

You have to hold out the option that the pastor may be right, but it may also be the case that he just likes to have things his way----or both.

The ways of God are too mysterious for us mortals to know with certainty when God is speaking to us or when we are simply delusional or delirious. (Talking things over with a well-grounded and honest friend may help us discern which is which.)

And yet, what do we make of the stories in the Bible of persons being visited by God and recruited for special missions?

Abraham and Sarah, in their old age, told by God he would make a great nation out of their heirs; and to pick up their belongings and head for new country.

Moses at the burning bush, hearing God’s voice recruiting him to lead Abraham’s descendents, now slaves in Egypt, to freedom.

And Mary, a young woman from Nazareth, being confronted by Gabriel and invited to be the mother of the Messiah.

Is it the case that persons in ancient times were more spiritually open to God’s presence? Have we been so dis-enchanted that we cannot sense God’s presence among us?

Or did God give his instructions in more graphic form in ancient times and now works in subtler ways---at least most of the time? These are questions to ponder.

Can you identify? Is this making any sense?

It may be the case that  the story of Gabriel’s visit to Mary, though certainly spectacular and singular, is a type of human religious experience with which we may identify when we stop to think about it. We share a common humanity with Mary. And the idea of hearing from God and/or God’s messengers may not be as foreign as it may first seem to us.

UNIQUE, TOO!

But, of course, the Virgin Mary’s experience is unique: she is visited by the high profile angel Gabriel and asked to give birth to and to raise the Son of God! You can’t get much more unique than that!

What meaning can we gain from the story of the conception and birth of Jesus to the Virgin Mary?

We need a seminar to deal with this subject! (And I will place a few resources at the end of this written sermon which I recommend to you.)

But, of all places, the best explanation I have found of the existential, theological and spiritual meaning of the virgin birth narratives comes from a Roman Catholic source. The gist of the message is this:

“When Jesus came into the world, he was being prayed for by a whole people and promised by a whole history. He was a child of promise in a unique sense, and the profoundest desire of the whole of [humankind]. He was born wholly of grace, wholly of promise----“conceived of the Holy Spirit.”

When Matthew and Luke wrote that Jesus’ birth “was not due to the will of man,” they are saying that “nothing in the bosom of humankind, nothing in human fruitfulness can procreate him, from whom all the begetting of our race depend: for all things were made in him. Humankind ultimately has no one to thank but the Holy Spirit for the coming of this promised one. His origin is not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of a man, but from God: from the Most High.” (A New Catechism: Catholic Faith for Adults, Herder and Herder, 1971)

The story of Mary, Gabriel and the birth of Jesus was, and is, glad tidings for all who long for and need a Savior. God has come to be with us and for us in this one, “in whom all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell.” There is hope for our lives and for our world because “the hopes and dreams of all the years are met” in him.

Think of the power of Jesus’ this way. What is the most holy and hopeful place you have ever been in? For the ancient Jews, it was the Temple in Jerusalem. It was the experience of the earliest disciples that, when they were in his presence, it was as if they were in the Temple, the place of God’s holy presence.  (N.T. Wright)

This baby will be fully human---born in the usual way--- and yet uniquely created by God. Go figure. It is a mixing of categories, which drives the neat-freaks mad. Jesus is “the presence of God tabernacling with God’s people.” (Wright) God, “is not a link in the causal chain but an infinite mystery, a personal God of unbounded love, a vulnerable, self-emptying love present as a source, [a] sustaining power and goal of the evolutionary world.” (Carla Maria Martini, in America, americamagazine.org, 5.12.08; quoted in Context, December, 2008)

So, what we have in the birth narratives is the church’s story of this glorious presence of God beginning at Jesus’ birth.

WHAT DOES MARY TEACH US about ourselves and about God?

What do we learn from this story of the Gabriel and Mary about who God is, and who we are----and can be?

God communicates with us, especially at the points of calling. We may be minding our own business, making our own plans and we get interrupted. God takes the initiative. God is the God of Abraham and Sarah and Noah and Esther, and Simeon and Zechariah----the Holy one who is both wholly other than we are, and yet involved in human lives and history. Still small voices, events: Listen to your life!
 
When God speaks, fear is appropriate! Mary was “greatly troubled, startled. We do not want to be like one church described to me----a church where the members thought that God should be proud that people like they are came to his church. Some people approach worship as those who think they are the kind of people whom God would be proud to be seen with. Mary knows better: in God’s presence, she is simply a “hand maid.” She is “thoroughly shaken.” Phone call of an assignment which shook me to the core.

But fear is not the final word! “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” God comes not to judge her, but to affirm her worth and gifts and prospects.

Questions are allowed! When Gabriel tells Mary that she will have a son, Mary asks how this could be, since she “does not know a man?” (“is not married?”) Good question!

The Holy Spirit will make this happen. “Nothing is impossible for God!”

We can obey without knowing what will happen later. Mary says “let it be with me just as you say.” We learn later that Mary was not at all sure what she was in for. Consider Mary and Joseph’s response when the teen-age Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, a fairly typical parental scolding. And, when she sent Jesus’ brothers to bring him home, fearing he had lost his bearings! Who knows how many sleepless nights Mary endured?

When we sense a call to a task meant for us, we have to give up the security of having everything planned out. One day at a time, one step at a time….

God calls us to tasks that are suited to our God-given abilities, even though we may not know what we are able to do yet! Surely this young woman did not know all of her talents yet. God saw not only the person she was but the person she could become.

We do not know who we are until God calls forth our gifts for kingdom purposes.

Obedience is both submission to God’s call and active commitment of our powers to do good works for God. We often think of Mary’s obedience as simply passive obedience to God’s will. But remember: Gabriel waits for her to respond! She could have said “No way.”

But any mother can tell you that passivity (as accepting whatever happens) is not a description of motherhood! Mary’s yes to God gave her power to assert herself (to believe in herself as “the most blessed among women!”

And, remember the Magnificat, Mary’s celebration of what God was doing in giving her this son Jesus? No merely passive woman could have sung that song: “God bared his arm and showed his strength, scattered the bluffing braggarts. He knocked tyrants off their high horses, pulled victims out of the mud.” (See Luke 1: 46-55; here I have used The Message translation)

Obeying may look like submission, but it more like being recruited for a life of self-investment and adventure.

There will be crosses for all who seek to embody Christ in the world. “A sword will pierce your heart also,” old Simeon says. (Luke 2:25-35) And as we receive Christ into our lives and seek to live like Christ, we will surely know hardships and sacrifices, as well as the surpassing joys of following in the Way.

More than once, Jesus discouraged those who thought that following Jesus would one victory after another.

Mary is the first disciple of Jesus. She is an example for persons of both sexes of strength and courage in the face of the unknowns. Discipleship is a giving and receiving, a life-long call and response in relationship with God.

HAUNTING STORY

It is a tender, haunting story, this encounter between Mary and Gabriel. On Christmas Eve, we will hear the rest of the story, and Jesus will take center stage. But this is Mary’s moment. Let her teach us what it means to believe in the God of impossible dreams. Whatever else we know of Mary, she will always be remembered for the 9 months she carried Jesus, and for laboring to give him birth.

I found one hymn in Mary’s voice, a gentle lullaby. It is Mary singing to Jesus as she cradles him. She has gone through labor; she is now beginning her vocation as the mother of this powerful Messiah, the One we will come to know and love, too. But right now, she is first and foremost a mother, loving her vulnerable newborn.  Hear Mary sing:

“Rock a bye, my dear little boy, dear little boy, wonder of wonders, my blessing and joy; slumber as I gently hold you, let my tender love enfold you; gift of God to me and the world, here in my arms lies so peacefully curled.

“Little Jesus, Infant Divine, Infant Divine, one with the Father, yet born to be mine; as I rock you calmly sleeping, angel guards their watch are keeping; precious child, one day we shall see what love has destined for you and for me.”

(Hymn 235, UMH; Words: Czech carol; trans by Jaroslav J. Vajda, 1987; Music: Czech carol; arr. By Martin Shaw, 1928)

Resources:
N.T. Wright, “God’s Way of Acting,” at Religion Online
Marcus Borg, “The Light in Our Darkness,” @ Religion Online
Phyllis Tickle, “Lovely Lady,” @ day1.org
N.T. Wright, The Challenge of Jesus: Rediscovering Who Jesus Was and Is, 1999.
Raymond Brown, The Birth of the Messiah: A Commentary on the Infancy Narratives, 1977