Sermon for December 20, 2020 Advent 4 B House of Prayer Lutheran Church

Luke 1:26-38; 2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16 Rev. Karl-John N. Stone

An Open and Humble Heart

Have you ever spent Christmas in an unexpected place? Back when we lived in Pennsylvania, we usually visited my wife Beth Ann’s family in Nebraska after Christmas. One particular year, when our son Henry wasn’t even a year old, we booked our flight to Nebraska for Christmas Day, with a layover in Minneapolis. The weather was fine in Pennsylvania, and when we landed in Minneapolis on time, we congratulated ourselves that in a couple of hours we’d land in Nebraska and soon be at her mom’s house, tucking our baby boy into bed.

As we waited to board the connecting flight, we heard an announcement. Ice. Take off delayed. After a while they told us it’s too icy to fly. No more flights going out tonight. So here we are, with a baby, in an airport full of people who are not flying anywhere. Would we be able to find a hotel? Would we need to stay in the airport lobby? Would we get any sleep? Would our son get any sleep, or would he spend all night upset and crying in the airport lobby?

And then it dawned on me. My aunt Dorothy lived just 15 minutes away from the Minneapolis airport. Now, I knew this would be an imposition. She wasn’t expecting us, and didn’t even know we were flying. I didn’t know if she was even in town, and even if she was maybe she’d have a house full of people. Even so, I called her number and she answered. “I hate to bother you on Christmas Day,” I said, “but we’re stuck at MSP overnight. Any chance you’d have some room for us?” She said, “It’s just like the Christmas story! A young family needs a place to stay! I’ll come pick you up.” Hearing my aunt say that was, for us in that moment, the equivalent of the angel Gabriel telling Mary, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” It’s like we were living our own Christmas Program, and my aunt got to play the angel and the Innkeeper--only this time she rewrote the script so that there was room at the Inn. But what beautiful words, which let us experience a bit of grace. It was humbling, too, to call unannounced and be given a warm and welcoming “place at the Inn” on Christmas Day.

When we look at today’s gospel, however, Mary had a bit of a different reaction to these beautiful words of grace. Because when the angel Gabriel came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you”, Mary’s initial reaction is to be perplexed. Like, “Are you talking to me? And by the way, what are you talking about?” The gospel of Luke doesn’t tell us why she was perplexed, but there are so many possibilities. Her age? Her gender? Her out-of-the-way hometown? Her limited life experiences? Her limited economic prospects? All reasons she might use to not believe the words Gabriel spoke to her.

And then Gabriel’s words started getting weird. “You will conceive and bear a son. He will be great, and called Son of the Most High. The Lord will give him the throne of his ancestor David. Of his kingdom there will be no end.” How can this be, since I am a virgin? Mary asks. Why would God choose her for such amazing things? She came from nowhere, and had done nothing of consequence to distinguish herself. And besides, she had her life planned already.

But why wouldn’t God choose her? God’s pattern that we see all throughout the Bible is to choose people who are “unlikely” by the world’s standards; people who are out at the margins. That seems to be where God gets his best work done. Just think: A tribe of slaves in Egypt known as Hebrews, chosen to be God’s very own people. Or a man with a speech impediment, who was a fugitive to boot, named Moses chosen to speak on behalf of God--and then to lead the people through 40 years in the wilderness, while they carried the ark of the covenant, the symbol of God’s presence with them, in a simple tent. Or a shepherd boy named David, who is the youngest and smallest of his brothers, chosen to defeat the mighty Goliath in battle. And when this David becomes the greatest of kings and builds a beautiful house for himself, he figures he should also build a beautiful house for the ark of the covenant; that the symbol of God’s presence should not reside in a humble tent. But God reminds him: “David, I don’t need you to build me a house. I’ve done wonders living with the Hebrews in a tent. It may seem an unlikely dwelling for God by the world’s standards, but really, a tent is better. That way (God says) I can be with you wherever you go.”

Like a tent in the wilderness, with us wherever we go, God is always finding new ways to go to the margins, and expanding the circle of who gets included in his love and grace. Even to a young woman named Mary, a virgin engaged to a man named Joseph of the house of David.

If God would choose Mary, why wouldn’t God choose any one of us to receive his love and grace? The beautiful words that Gabriel spoke to Mary are also words for each of you: “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” God is with you, and for you. And what we learn from Mary’s response to Gabriel is that God can accomplish his purposes within us when we make our hearts open; when we humble ourselves before God.

Maybe that’s why God chose Mary to begin with--she was humble enough to accept all the amazing things that were being promised to her--things far beyond her ability, or really any person’s, ability to control. If any of it was going to happen--the Holy Spirit coming upon her; the child to be born holy and called Son of God; her relative Elizabeth in her old age also conceiving a son; things too great for any human to accomplish--if any of it was going to happen, it would be entirely God’s doing. And Mary just signs up for the ride. She doesn’t try to bargain. She doesn’t try to jockey for rewards or power or wealth in exchange for all she’ll have to sacrifice. She just opens her heart in humility and faith saying, “Here I am the servant of the Lord. Let it be with me according to your word.”

We learn from Mary the basic attitude that God needs from us, so he can accomplish his purposes within us: An open and humble heart. A willingness to let God lead you in faith, even when you don’t know all the details of how it’s going to turn out.

We’ve been living through a time that a year ago none of us ever expected, as the whole world has been humbled by the covid virus. Even as we’re witnessing great scientific miracles with the first people being vaccinated this week, we’ve been through a lot of suffering on many different levels to get to this point. Some of us have even grieved people we knew who have died too soon because of this virus. I sadly just lost a seminary classmate, who leaves behind an 18 year old daughter. It’s humbling to have had our lives upended for so long. It’s humbling to not know how your body will react if you get it, or how your friend or loved one’s body will react. It’s humbling to not be able to visit a loved one in the hospital, or to not be able to have a visitor if you’re in the hospital. It’s humbling to be a caregiver and doing that on top of all the other challenges of this time. It’s humbling to have plans rearranged, to be constantly learning to adapt to a situation none of us ever planned for. Being humbled is not comfortable and we don’t like it.

But it is always an opportunity for us to open our hearts to God in faith so that, like Mary, we can allow God to accomplish his work within us. An open and humble heart is all God needs. And by opening and humbling our own hearts we can use this uncomfortable time to cling ever more preciously to God’s promise that he is with us, wherever we go, however uncomfortable we feel--God is with us, because he is the God who humbled himself, coming down from heaven to live in the tent we call human flesh, and be born as our savior Jesus Christ. Amen.