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Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Today we have something maybe out of the ordinary, somewhat of an anomaly, whatever you want to call it, as this is the fourth Sunday in Advent, but it’s also Christmas Eve, and my math tells me this happens about every seven years or so. Thank you.
The Synod’s lectionary tells us that we could either use the readings for the fourth Sunday in Advent, or we can use the readings for Christmas Eve. I think sometimes this discourages us to do either or both, but we do do both, and we’ve chosen to do both. And so in doing so this morning, we get to hear this promise in 2 Samuel, this promise given by the Lord to King David, and then in the Luke text, we also get to hear about the fulfillment of this promise and the Annunciation of the Lord to Mary.
There’s a lot of stuff going on, actually, in Luke chapter 1, and it does have this theme of fulfillment that all the entire Old Testament hope is about to be realized. I mean, after all, we have, you remember, the foretelling of the birth of John the Baptist, we have the actual Annunciation to Mary, we have Mary’s visitation to Elizabeth, we have Mary’s Magnificat, we have the actual birth of John the Baptist, and then we have Zechariah’s prophecy about his son John, about how John will not just prepare the way for the Lord, but the Lord God will raise up a horn of salvation for his people in the house of his servant David, as he has promised.
I do want to take just a quick look back, kind of rewind and look back at the angel’s revelation to Zechariah, because I think that we ought to try to compare that with what happens with Mary, and we’ll see there might have been quite a different response between the two. I also want to fast forward just a bit and go look at the Magnificat, because in looking at these texts, we kind of get to know what it is we should be thinking about Mary, what it is we know about her, and then also what we believe and confess about the promise and hope of the advent of Christ.
Thinking back, we remember just earlier in the text that the angel Gabriel comes to Zechariah when Zechariah is in the temple, and he tells him that his long-suffering dream, his long-suffering prayers for a child, well, they’re going to be answered. And even more, not just that he’s going to have a child, but this child is going to be great before the Lord, filled with the Holy Spirit, and he will go before the Lord in the spirit and power of Elijah. Pretty impressive.
And yet Zechariah, he doesn’t exactly answer with, “Oh, that is great, I’m so excited, Lord, you’re finally going to bring this child that you’ve promised to us.” Instead, Zechariah doubtfully asks, “Well, how shall I know this? How in the world am I to believe this? I think I need some type of proof.” Zechariah’s skepticism was reprimanded, if you will, with the consequence of being made mute until the birth of John.
That is quite a contrast from what we hear about Mary and how she reacts to her own remarkable news. Now, Zechariah, I guess we could say he was somebody in the grand scheme of things. He was a priest, a member of the priesthood, and on this particular day of his revelation, he happened to be in the temple. Maybe he had this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to go in there and burn incense. Out of the thousands of priests, this might only happen once in his life. So he seemed to be a pretty big deal.
But who was Mary, and why was she so special? Although she was engaged, betrothed to this man Joseph, who was of the house of David, she really wasn’t anybody in particular. She was, as the text tells us, a young girl, a virgin, maybe 12 to 14 years old, somewhere in that neighborhood. She was living in this backwater town of Nazareth. So she had to be one of the most unlikely young ladies in the world to receive this news and this visit from Gabriel.
We can understand that she was visibly shaken and trying to figure out what this message was all about. I don’t think she thought it was good news at first. Gabriel knows this, and to calm her fears, he says to Mary, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.”
In the Lutheran tradition, we have to ask, what does this mean? What does it mean to have favor with God? Surely Mary has done something quite remarkable to have this elevated status. Perhaps she was particularly or extremely pious. Maybe she had done something of special recognition to deserve this.
But no, this favor is altogether unmerited, at least in the ways that we think about how we merit grace and favor. Because this favor that Gabriel speaks of to her is merely the fact that she has been chosen among all women. The Lord chose her long ago to be that woman, to be the one who would bear the Son of God. Her womb will now be the temple of the Lord. She will bring forth the Messiah who will sit on the throne of David forever, for he will be the culmination of the line of David.
Gabriel even tells her how he will be named. He will be called Jesus, Yeshua, the name that means Yahweh saves, for he will be the one to save his people from their sins. The child will be called great and the son of the Most High. Now you see why Mary was shaken, because that had to be a lot to take in.
Yet Mary doesn’t even seem to begrudgingly protest or have any smidgen of doubt whatsoever. And it’s not like she’s not aware of who she is. She’s aware of her humble estate, her status, her state of engagement with Joseph, but she doesn’t worry about embarrassment. Instead, she only asks, “How will this be?” She’s not necessarily asking for an explanation; she is a virgin, after all. She asks for an explanation, but not a sign. She doesn’t demand proof that the angel is telling the truth.
So Gabriel tells her she will conceive by the power of the Holy Spirit, the same Spirit who has given her the ability to have faith and the ability to receive all this shocking news that she has just been given. The angel has told her, “The Lord is with you.”
That’s not like some kind of simple greeting. I mean, we say that to each other, “The Lord be with you,” and it’s a nice greeting, but this was a special assurance in two ways. One, that the Lord would be with her; he would protect her, he would keep her from this embarrassment. She would not be embarrassed. But more importantly, that he would be with her, physically with her in her womb.
The Lord wants to confirm Mary in her belief, and so he has Gabriel appoint her to this visitation with her relative Elizabeth, a woman once thought to be incapable of having a child, that she too is now with child. Gabriel appoints her to that visitation, and we know that when Mary visits Elizabeth, the unborn John the Baptist leaps in the womb at the presence of the Messiah.
With all this news, Mary simply says, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; to me be as it pleases God.” Well, Mary has found favor, and at her visitation to Elizabeth, Elizabeth is going to heap more blessing and praise on Mary, yet Mary points away from herself. In her Magnificat, her song of praise, she proclaims, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant. For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed.”
Blessed not because of herself, but because she is the one chosen for this great honor and purpose. Mary is full of grace, but it is grace given to one who has faith in the power of the Lord to do the impossible. Grace given in fulfillment of the promise to her too, of a Savior.
The Annunciation is not about Mary, and it cannot be all about her. It cannot be the focus. It’s not just a simple story about how a young girl found favor with the Lord because of her own worthiness; that she is blessed because of something in her. It’s about this fulfillment of the ancient promise for all people. It’s the fulfillment of the promise of the Lord that he will tabernacle with his people, that he will become flesh and dwell among them. This one Jesus who, from all time, from the beginning of creation, has been and is now on the throne of David.
What about David? David had his doubts, and David, through the prophet Nathan, proposed to tell the Lord what he would do for him—that he would build the Lord a temple where the Lord may dwell. But the Lord says to David, “You say you will build me a house, and yet I have not asked for this. No, I will build you a house.”
Also, Zechariah only thinks of himself. Gabriel gives him this most wonderful news, and what does he say? “How will I know this?” But not Mary; she points away from herself and to God. Indeed, Jesus, later in Luke chapter 11, will do the same. He’ll point away from Mary when a woman in the crowd says, “Blessed is the woman that bore you and the breast at which you nursed.” But Jesus replied, saying, “Blessed, rather, is the one who hears the Word of God and keeps it.” Great are those who hear the gospel, who see the Word made flesh and believe.
This is part of our confession. Over the past three midweek services, we’ve looked at the Apostles’ Creed, and we’ve looked at the primary work of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and we just confessed an Ising Creed, which is kind of like a super creed, if you want to say that.
About the Son, Jesus, we first confess what was made known to Mary in this Annunciation, that in Jesus we confess that God the Son was begotten of the Father before all worlds, from the beginning of time, and that he was incarnate by the Holy Spirit, that he was born of the Virgin Mary and made man, that he suffered, was crucified, died and was buried, he rose on the third day, he ascended into heaven, and he sits at the right hand of the Father, from whence he has never departed. We also confess that in his second advent he will come again with joy and glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end because the throne of David will be established forever.
Like Mary, we are not able to confess this on our own, by reason, our own ability, or our own understanding. As we heard from St. Paul today, this was a mystery that was kept secret for long ages but is now made known to all nations according to the command of the eternal God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, who has given us the power to understand and to reason and to come to faith. And this is for all people, for all nations, the mystery revealed in Jesus Christ.
So the Annunciation delivered to Mary was the fulfillment of a promise, the promise that was first given in the Garden of Eden, that the offspring of a woman, indeed, this offspring of Mary herself, would bruise the serpent’s head. The promise that was repeated to the fathers, to Abraham, carried down 42 generations through Isaac, Jacob, Judah, and to David. To David, the Lord promised a house and a kingdom to be made sure forever. And we are to be sure that we are in this house, that we have been grafted into his people, into Israel, into the church.
Now, in just a matter of hours, the season of Advent is going to be over. Shortly after the service, maybe within an hour or so, the altar guild is going to come in here and they’re going to take out all the blue pyramids, and they’re going to make way for the white pyramids of Christmas, which begins with our services tonight at 4 and 6:30, just so you know.
But the blue pyramids will be up, and they won’t see the light of day for 11 months. Some have asked, well, why do we have blue pyramids? Some people use violet. Well, violet was and is still often used as a symbol, a sign of repentance, a sign of being penitential. And some use it, and yes, it’s a royal color—purple, violet, whatever you want to call it.
But in recent times, blue has kind of found its way in. We do it here because it’s also a color of royalty, but it is also the color, the symbol of hope. So we have repentance; we maintain our repentance, but we also still hope. Because Advent is indeed about hope. It’s about hope and the promise of the return to us of the one who was born of Mary.
It is hope that, just like the grace that was imparted to Mary, will come to us too. Grace that, like Mary, for us is not earned; it is not through our own merit, it’s not through our own piety or our self-endowed perception of goodness. It is grace given only by the mercy of the Father through the Son.
Like Mary, we rely not on our own understanding, but on the promises given in the Word of God. Now, we can’t help in doubt; we can’t help but have wonder; we can’t help but question about things in this world. How did God even create the world and everything in it? How is life given in conception? How does plain water and God’s Word wash us from all of our sins? How does simple bread and wine become the body and blood of Christ to strengthen our faith and work forgiveness? How is it that the Word is preached to us and the Holy Spirit brings us to faith? How is it that our Lord reaches down from heaven to us in our lowly estate and brings us unto himself?
So, brothers and sisters, the season of Advent is technically over. It’s coming to an end, but our hope doesn’t end with it. In fact, the church year has just begun, and in many ways, I think we ought to always be in a season of Advent, a steady and constant state of anticipation, hope, and rejoicing.
Anticipation in looking to the day of the Lord’s return when he will come to set us free. Hope in hearing God’s promises and believing by the gift of faith which he has given us through his word—the Word made flesh in Christ—and rejoicing in coming to the Lord’s house again and again to celebrate and receive his good gifts given in his word and his holy sacraments.
So tonight and tomorrow we will gather once again here to receive those gifts and celebrate that which God has done in the impossible—that he has come down, become man, and gave himself up for us that we may be freed from our sin and death.
So yes, the Lord was with his servants David and Mary, and the Lord is our Emmanuel, God with us. Amen.
Now the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
