Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] December 10, 2023 “We Find Joy in Connection” Luke 1: 26-45 – Common English Bible When Elizabeth was six months pregnant, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a city in Galilee, 27 to a virgin who was engaged to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David’s house. The virgin’s name was Mary. 28 When the angel came to her, he said, “Rejoice, favored one! The Lord is with you!” 29 She was confused by these words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. 30 The angel said, “Don’t be afraid, Mary. God is honoring you. 31 Look! You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you will name him Jesus. 32 He will be great and he will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of David his father. 33 He will rule over Jacob’s house forever, and there will be no end to his kingdom.” 34 Then Mary said to the angel, “How will this happen since I haven’t had sexual relations with a man?” 35 The angel replied, “The Holy Spirit will come over you and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore, the one who is to be born will be holy. He will be called God’s Son. 36 Look, even in her old age, your relative Elizabeth has conceived a son. This woman who was labeled ‘unable to conceive’ is now six months pregnant. 37 Nothing is impossible for God.” 38 Then Mary said, “I am the Lord’s servant. Let it be with me just as you have said.” Then the angel left her. 39 Mary got up and hurried to a city in the Judean highlands. 40 She entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth. 41 When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. 42 With a loud voice she blurted out, “God has blessed you above all women, and he has blessed the child you carry. 43 Why do I have this honor, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? 44 As soon as I heard your greeting, the baby in my womb jumped for joy. 45 Happy is she who believed that the Lord would fulfill the promises he made to her.” The Angel Gabriel proclaimed to Zechariah that Elizabeth would give birth to a boy who would achieve great stature with God, filled with the Holy Spirit from the moment he leaves his mother’s womb. An unlikely story since that womb had never been able to carry a child before. Zechariah was unable to grasp that with God anything is possible, and so he was unable to speak for 9 months. Which meant he was also unable to tell Elizabeth the news. Can you imagine their game of charades when he returned home and attempted to tell her she would soon be pregnant? Question: Had she been unable to get pregnant or had she been unable to conceive? Translations differ. But either way, I hear that and think nothing more. At least they’re better than translations that call her the horrible “B” word: barren. But I was in a Bible study this week with a group of mostly female pastors and they understood Elizabeth’s situation differently than I had ever considered before. Following this angelic announcement, Elizabeth did indeed conceive but then curiously went off by herself for five months. Again, I hear that and think nothing more. But my colleagues pointed out, that’s 20 weeks. Why would she have waited 20 weeks until letting her family and neighbors see her? What if it wasn’t that she couldn’t get pregnant but that she had suffered miscarriages for years – each time a devastating blow, each pregnancy less potentially joyful than hopelessly ominous. What if she went away for 5 months so she didn’t have to bear the burden of judgment by others, the shame of losing another child. And why not choose her own solitude? If she did indeed miscarry, because of the blood she would have had to isolate anyway. She returned after 20 weeks when the fear of losing another baby had lessened. Not out of the woods, but perhaps farther along than she had been before. This, of course, is just speculation, but it gave an insight into Elizabeth’s life and state of mind I hadn’t thought of before. And today, Mary. From improbable to improbable. At least Gabriel spoke to her directly. She didn’t express Zechariah’s skepticism, “you expect me to believe this?” She was more curious, asking, “how will this happen?” And then she consented – “let us be with me” – perhaps a rare occasion in a young girl’s life to be able to give consent to anything. How many decisions about her own life do you suppose she had a right to make? So many songs about Mary call her meek and mild. But she was brave and bold, which doesn’t mean she wasn’t also scared out of her mind. Thankfully she had someone she knew she could talk to about such a thing. For Mary – in her early teens – that person was Elizabeth – probably in her late 30s. You know, old. Do you have someone you can call or go visit who will listen without judgment, who won’t try to fix you or the situation? Someone who will listen to news that you don’t dare tell just anyone. How hard would you work to get together? Because this wasn’t just making a phone call. Elizabeth didn’t live around the corner or the next town over. She lived 80 miles away, the other side of a mountain range – an estimated 9 day walk. But an unmarried teenage girl doesn’t just take a walk by herself no matter how close or far away. How did she do it? Would she have tried to blend in with a caravan? Would she have walked on isolated, even-more dangerous trails, hiding along the way to avoid being seen? Her decision to confront the danger of this travel makes her even more bold and brave and bad “…”. Why did she do it? Why do people do it today? Make the improbable decision to take such a dangerous journey. And how? Blend in with migrant caravans? Choose isolated dangerous trails to avoid being seen? The Somali-British poet Warsan Shire (she-ray) always helps me at least grasp at the question “why.” no one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark you only run for the border when you see the whole city running as well your neighbors running faster than you - breath bloody in their throats the boy you went to school with who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory is holding a gun bigger than his body you have to understand, that no one puts their children in a boat unless the water is safer than the land you only leave home when home won’t let you stay.[1] Now, in the Gospel of Matthew, the new family escaped the murderous King Herod by fleeing to Egypt where they lived as refugees until it was safe to return. But in the Gospel Luke, Mary wasn’t exactly fleeing this kind of danger, although, think about it. Not married and soon to be pregnant. That’s the kind of thing that got women killed – no questions asked, no defense of something considered so indefensible. All while men bragged in the locker room. You know, we may approach these stories like they are fairy tales, but these questions make clear that these are real lives. There are real people like Mary who face real danger and there are real people like Elizabeth who experience crushing grief. People then just like people face today. And in light of all that, what did Mary and Elizabeth do? They found each other. They shared their amazement. And they proclaimed they were ready. They found joy in their connection. Elizabeth hoping this child would come to full term. Mary hoping she was up to the challenge of being the mother of God’s son. 700 years ago, Meister Eckhart gave a sermon in which he said: “What good is it to me that Mary gave birth to the son of God if I do not also give birth to the Son of God in my own time and in my culture? We are all meant to be mothers of God. God is always needing to be born.” Yes, but what if we feel like we’ve failed at it before? What if we don’t have time for that? What if we can’t understand how it can be that God would use us? Why me? Why would God bother with me? These may be a series of hard to believe stories, but there is at least one absolute truth: Because nothing is impossible for God. So join with Mary and give consent: “let it be with me just as you have said.” And with Elizabeth, bless anyone who says yes because “happy is she, anyone, who believes God will fulfill God’s promises through us.” Mary risked everything to find Elizabeth. And as soon as she saw Mary, the child in Elizabeth’s womb jumped for joy and she was filled with the Holy Spirit. Her cousin Mary carried the child of her Lord. And hearing this greeting, confirming what she had been told, confirming what she had consented to. She saw the vision, the implications of her son coming into the world: the powerful toppled from their thrones and the humble lifted high; the hungry filled with good things and the rich sent away empty; the proud scattered in the thoughts of their hearts. Or in the words of the Modern Magnificat by Joy Cowley: My soul sings in gratitude. I’m dancing in the mystery of God. The light of the Holy One is within me and I am blessed, so truly blessed. I am filled with awe at Love whose only condition is to be received. The gift is not for the proud, for they have no room for it. The strong and self-sufficient ones don’t have this awareness. But those who know their emptiness can rejoice in Love’s fullness. It’s the Love that we are made for, the reason for our being. It fills our inmost space and brings to birth in us, the Holy One. But not only for us. What good would that be if we are not also the mother of God, giving birth to love to share with people living in grief and fear in our time and place? No one should have to do hard things alone. And so, Mary and Elizabeth found each other. May we all have, may we all be, such a friend. [1] https://www.facinghistory.org/resource-library/home-warsan-shire
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Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] December 3, 2023 “How Does a Weary World Rejoice?” Luke 1: 1-17 – The Message So many others have tried their hand at putting together a story of the wonderful harvest of Scripture and history that took place among us, using reports handed down by the original eyewitnesses who served this Word with their very lives. Since I have investigated all the reports in close detail, starting from the story’s beginning, I decided to write it all out for you, most honorable Theophilus, so you can know beyond the shadow of a doubt the reliability of what you were taught. 5-7 During the rule of Herod, King of Judea, there was a priest assigned service in the regiment of Abijah. His name was Zachariah. His wife was descended from the daughters of Aaron. Her name was Elizabeth. Together they lived honorably before God, careful in keeping to the ways of the commandments and enjoying a clear conscience before God. But they were childless because Elizabeth could never conceive, and now they were quite old. 8-12 It so happened that as Zachariah was carrying out his priestly duties before God, working the shift assigned to his regiment, it came his one turn in life to enter the sanctuary of God and burn incense. The congregation was gathered and praying outside the Temple at the hour of the incense offering. Unannounced, an angel of God appeared just to the right of the altar of incense. Zachariah was paralyzed in fear. 13-15 But the angel reassured him, “Don’t fear, Zachariah. Your prayer has been heard. Elizabeth, your wife, will bear a son by you. You are to name him John. You’re going to leap like a gazelle for joy, and not only you—many will delight in his birth. He’ll achieve great stature with God. 15-17 “He’ll drink neither wine nor beer. He’ll be filled with the Holy Spirit from the moment he leaves his mother’s womb. He will turn many sons and daughters of Israel back to their God. He will herald God’s arrival in the style and strength of Elijah, soften the hearts of parents to children, and kindle devout understanding among hardened skeptics—he’ll get the people ready for God.” And the angel Gabriel said, “Don’t be afraid. God has heard your prayer. Elizabeth will have a son and you shall name him John.” You know what he said next? “Do you expect me to believe this?!” So, sit right back and you’ll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful birth. Well, not a tale, not a fantasy, but a gospel, good news that Luke sat down and took great pains to put together for a man he called the most honorable Theophilus. A story by Luke about Jesus that doesn’t start with Jesus but the messenger before him whose birth was improbable. Born of a couple too old to conceive, prompting the sentiment, “Do you expect me to believe this?” Too old to conceive. If that sounds vaguely familiar, it’s supposed to. Luke makes the connection that Abraham and Sarah were also too old to conceive. You heard their story this summer. 90-year-old Sarah improbably gave birth to a child named Isaac, whose son was Jacob and onward, the beginning of a line of descendants so large it’s like trying to count the stars in the night sky. That whole story we followed has continued here with Zechariah in the line of descendants from one of Jacob’s 12 sons named Levi. Elizabeth, too, by the way, was in this line, a descendent directly through Aaron which was even more special. Most of Jacob’s sons had been designated a piece of land, but everyone in the line from his son Levi were to be priests, dispersed among all the tribes. They were not priests because they individually felt a special calling from God. It was their family business. No son ever sat under the stars looking up and wondering what he might do when he grew up, although it wasn’t a full-time profession in the way we might think. About every six months, among hundreds of priests, a division would serve for a week, but an individual would only go into the inner sanctuary if chosen by lot – randomly chosen. It might be a once in a lifetime privilege. Zechariah happened to be chosen that day, although with God, things like that are rarely random, a coincidence. Imagine his joy over such an incredible honor. He would have been as giddy as he was reverent and would have expected to be alone with his thoughts, which made Gabriel’s presence even more shocking, not to mention Gabriel’s improbable news. To which Zechariah exclaimed, “Do you expect me to believe this?” Gabriel responded indignantly – “Hey, you ungrateful peon, don’t you know who I am?” Well, not really, but he did offer his credentials, “I am Gabriel, the sentinel of God, sent especially to you to bring this good news,” before adding, “But because you won’t believe me, you’ll be unable to say a word until the day of your son’s birth. Every word I’ve spoken to you will come true on time – God’s time.” And with that, Gabriel left. Zechariah emerged from the inner sanctuary looking dazed and the congregation, which had wondered what was taking so long, saw that something incredible had happened. They could see on his face that he had had a vision. But when he tried to talk, to explain what had just happened, no words would come from his mouth. He was literally speechless and he communicated with them with his hands. Bewildered by it all, he finished up his week at the Temple and returned home. Now who do you suppose told Elizabeth? There’s no mention of the angel stopping by and letting her know in advance, “By the way, you’ll soon be pregnant.” At least Sarah overheard a conversation between Abraham and some travelling strangers. She eavesdropped and laughed to herself. She didn’t ask, “Do you expect me to believe this?!” even if that’s what her laugh meant, but at least she and Abraham could whisper to one other late at night when no one else could hear them discussing something so absurd. Elizabeth and Zechariah couldn’t talk, but somehow, she knew. Perhaps not even surprised. She said, to no one in particular, maybe just to herself, so this is how God has removed the disgrace I’ve been burdened with by other people’s judgments. Yes, of course, in those days, if a woman didn’t have children, it was her fault – not for some biological reason, but some sin or character flaw. A disgrace, a punishment. A belief not so far from the surface even today. Never, of course, a mention that men had any role or responsibility for pregnancy or lack thereof. But it’s a beautiful line. “This is how God has removed the disgrace I’ve been burdened with by other people’s judgments.” She knew, the burden wasn’t of God; it was people judging her. Back to Zechariah. Some people say that his inability to speak was punishment for doubt. But must we always explain why things happen as punishment? Maybe this silence was a recognition of something extraordinary, too important for mere talking. A time when speech itself is pregnant, waiting for the fullness of time. So, Elizabeth conceived and went off by herself for five months – where or specifically why we don’t know. But since Zechariah couldn’t speak, it wasn’t to escape his incessant chatting. You know, the kind of retirement, go get a hobby, I need some peace and quiet. After five months, Elizabeth finally went back home and the next month, she was overjoyed to see her favorite, much younger, cousin Mary walking toward the house. Except that this not-yet-married, teenage girl, was walking toward her house with a baby bump. I can imagine Elizabeth seeing her condition and fearing the worst, the same kind of disgraceful looks by neighbors that Elizabeth had been burdened with. She stood ready to offer Mary the unconditional love she knew no one else would give. But Mary told Elizabeth it’s OK, she was pregnant by the Holy Spirit, and Elizabeth knew immediately she was right. It was just as improbable and wonderful as her own pregnancy. Elizabeth’s baby jumped for joy in her womb upon hearing Mary’s voice. Mary stayed until Elizabeth gave birth and then she went back to Nazareth. When Elizabeth gave birth to a son, her family and neighbors were overjoyed and celebrated with her. When they all went to his circumcision 8 days later, they expected the baby to be called Zechariah after his father. She said, no, his name shall be John. Those celebrating family and neighbors stopped smiling and looked at each other suspiciously. Delicately they asked, “Honey, who is John? Why would you name your baby John when there are no other Johns in our family tree? Is this not Zechariah’s son?” So, they turned to him and asked what he wanted the baby’s name to be. He asked for a tablet and wrote “John.” The time for his pregnancy, nine months without speech, had now been fulfilled. His mouth opened, his tongue unloosened, and he began praising God: Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, who came to set the people free, deliverance from our enemies and every hateful hand. Through the heartfelt mercies of our God, the sunrise will break in upon us. Shining on those in the darkness, those sitting in the shadow of death, my child shall prepare the way for salvation. He will show us the way, one foot at a time, down the path of peace. The crowd marveled and a deep, reverential fear settled all over the Judean hill country. People could talk about nothing else. And all they could say is, “What will become of this child? Clearly, God’s hand is in this.” Thirty years later, this John would be known as the Baptist, the Baptizer, offering people a way to begin again unburdened from disgrace and judgments, like his mother. He preached a fresh start through forgiveness from our own past faults and failures. And he was clear that his role was to prepare the way for his cousin Jesus. Every year we come around to these same stories, somehow always fresh, somehow always relevant. This Advent, when we watch the news and hear of the horrors experienced in war, we might wonder how a weary world can be hopeful. Do you expect me to believe this? With our own personal tragedies and health and strained relationships… It’s hard to feel cheerful when we talk with family or neighbors who are just as fiercely polarized as in Washington. How can a weary world rejoice this Advent? Many people are not feeling very optimistic about a lot of things. Dr. Cornel West explains how “hope and optimism are different. Optimism tends to be based on the notion that there's enough evidence out there to believe things are gonna be better.” At this moment in history, that’s a hard sell. But Dr. West describes how “hope looks at the evidence and says, ‘It doesn't look good. Doesn't look good at all.” Hope, on the other hand, goes “beyond the evidence to create new possibilities based on visions that become contagious enough to allow people to engage in heroic actions always against the odds, no guarantee whatsoever." That’s hope. That’s the possibility Elizabeth knew was real. While Zechariah asked, “Do you expect me to believe this?!” Elizabeth said Yes. Absolutely. Believe this: God loves taking unlikely and ordinary people facing daunting or impossible obstacles to do extraordinary things through them. Ordinary people like you and me who say yes despite not seeing a way forward, who can’t seem to overcome an impediment, especially those created by the judgments of other people… God loves to surprise the world. That’s why I can say, without a doubt, Luke is not telling a tale or selling a fantasy, but proclaiming gospel. You and I may not feel optimistic right now. But, hear the good news: the more improbable hope may seem, the more possible it becomes. Can you dare believe it? |
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April 2024
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