Listen to the reflection.
Sometimes I wonder if the familiarity of this story makes us lose track of the ordinary and extraordinary in it. Sometimes I wonder if we’ve become so used to the “Let it be with me” that we miss the “do not be afraid.” Have we become too used to the end of the story that we forget the power of the rest of it?
First, a little background. Mary is a teenager. She’s really young. She’s engaged, but not yet living with her betrothed. She’s poor. She lives in a po-dunk town. By the standards of the Roman Empire that ruled her little province, she’s a nobody. She’s not someone anyone of status or importance would pay attention to. But one day, completely out of the blue, an angel shows up and calls her favored. I imagine her internal dialogue to be something like “Really?! Favored by whose standards?” I don’t blame her for being perplexed. Because, really, what kind of greeting is that? “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” This is the greeting of the past. This is the greeting of the Scriptures. Does this stuff really still happen? Perplexing for certain. Worth a ponder, indeed.
The story goes on, of course, with Gabriel bringing the message that she will bear a son, by the power of the Holy Spirit, and she will name him Jesus. And Mary’s response, “Here I am, the servant of the Lord; Let it be with me according to your word.” But let’s back up for a second. Before any of that amazingly faithful response had come from her lips, she is called favored. The angel tells her that the Lord is with her. To this ordinary young woman, the extraordinary is proclaimed. You, poor young woman from a backwoods town, are favored. And God is with you.
I don’t know about you, but I think I forget about the power of those words sometimes. I forget just how incredible they are to hear. Favored one. God is with you. And I forget that I shouldn’t really be surprised because stuff like this happens in Scripture all the time. God is constantly coming to the lowly, ordinary, plain Janes (well, mostly Joes) and bestowing blessing upon blessing on them. Abraham and Sarah. Hannah. David. Jeremiah. The list goes on and on. When we remember the stories of Scripture, we remember that God does that. God comes to the ordinary ones and expects great things from them.
But surely, that doesn’t happen any more, does it? I haven’t heard any credible reports of angel appearances lately. But I’ve seen God working in normal, everyday people and doing great things. I’ve seen evidence of the ways that God’s ordinary people, sometimes in teeny-tiny ways, recognize that they are, in fact, favored. They are in fact called to be something in the world. To do something out of the ordinary and, by doing so, shine light on the extraordinary and amazing presence of God in this world.
I’ve read stories of strangers paying off layaway balances at K-mart stores. I’ve heard reports of hot meals delivered and blankets made. I’ve seen outsiders welcomed. I’ve heard the story being told through storybooks read to grandchildren and music sung. I’ve seen couples married for years walking down the street hand in hand and new moms tenderly nursing tiny babies. I hear stories of children returning home for the holidays and parents eagerly anticipating the arrivals. It’s in these moments, these plain, ordinary events, that God in all God’s glory shows up and blesses us.
As we move from Advent into Christmas, we hear again the amazing story of shepherds watching in the fields by night. We hear about a young couple seeking refuge in a barn because there was no place for them in the inn. We hear about some supposedly wise men who drop everything to follow a star for many, many days and end up finding a newborn king wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger. At its heart, this is a story of ordinary people setting aside expectations of grandeur to see God at the heart of what makes us human. Life. In all its messiness. In all its blood and smells and dirt and muck. And even while coming to us in that, still finding it in God’s self to call us, as confused and perplexed as we are, favored.
This is our story. It’s beautiful and amazing and full of grace, isn’t it? That we who are so often confused, so often distracted by the hustle and bustle, so often perplexed by the mystery of God are favored. That Mary, a lowly, poor teenager is called favored before she even speaks a word. That she is chosen to bear the son of the Living God. And that from her blessing, we are blessed. We are favored. We are called. We are saved. It is the extraordinary, breaking into every single moment of every single day, into the ordinary. It is our story and our saving grace. Thanks be to God. Amen.
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