Sunday, December 10th: "Common Struggles, Common Blessings"
First United Presbyterian Church
“Common Struggles, Common Blessings”
Rev. Amy Morgan
December 10, 2023
Luke 1:24-45
24 After those days, [Zechariah’s] wife Elizabeth conceived, and for five months she remained in seclusion. She said, 25 “This is what the Lord has done for me in this time, when he looked favorably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people.”
26 In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, 27 to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. 28 And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” 29 But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. 30 The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. 31 And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. 32 He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. 33 He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” 34 Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” 35 The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. 36 And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son, and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. 37 For nothing will be impossible with God.” 38 Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.
39 In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, 40 where she entered the house of Zechariah 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 and exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. 43 And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? 44 For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. 45 And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.”
There seems to be an online support group for pretty much everything today. People who might feel isolated in their physical community can connect with people around the globe who share their conditions, struggles, or diagnoses. There are support groups for everything from parents of children with special needs to people with rare diseases. There are even online support groups for people who have been abducted by aliens and women with selfish husbands. I don’t belong to either of those groups, I just found them online. Connecting with other people to share experiences, advice, and just not feel so alone is a positive experience for folks who are part of these communities.
However, this vast array of online support groups did not exist in the first century. And even if they had, I doubt Mary could have found a support group for young women receiving angelic visits and impregnated by the Holy Spirit. That’s a pretty unique experience.
These days, there might be quite a few women who could connect with Elizabeth’s experience of being what is so tactfully called in medical terminology, a “geriatric pregnancy.” However, she was in isolation for 5 months, privately holding this secret hope, trying to hold on to this pregnancy.
Mary and Elizabeth were both women who had experienced disgrace around pregnancy. Elizabeth had endured disgrace among her people because she could not get pregnant. And though scripture doesn’t mention this explicitly, Mary was very likely disgraced among her people because she did get pregnant. Once they have both conceived, one is unusually old and one is unusually young (and unmarried), increasing their sense of isolation.
Without the convenience of an online chat room, Mary had to travel at least 80 miles on foot to connect with someone who might understand her weariness. When she arrives in the Judean hill country, she has been walking for over a week. She seems to have been travelling alone, a dangerous journey for a young woman.
When Mary enters the house of Zechariah, who was likely sitting in silent contemplation, she is weary to her bones. The shock of an angelic visitation. Being overshadowed by the power of the Most High, whatever that means. Becoming pregnant before she was married and trying to explain that to her fiancée, family, and neighbors. Her life plans and hopes for the future unraveling into something surreal and frightening and impossible. She had to go somewhere, to get away from the scornful glances, endless questions she couldn’t answer, the swirling thoughts in her head. The angel had mentioned her cousin, Elizabeth. She, too, carried an impossible pregnancy. And so Mary went to her. And when she finally arrived, her long journey only added to her weariness.
But when Mary greets Elizabeth, she doesn’t see someone who is too old to be a mother. She sees a woman who is filled with the Holy Spirit and exuberant with joy. When Elizabeth sees Mary, she doesn’t see an unwed pregnant teenage runaway, she sees the mother of God. When Elizabeth declares, “blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord,” it’s unclear if she’s referring to Mary or to herself. The angel told Mary, “nothing will be impossible with God,” and the impossible has happened to both of them. God’s promise has been fulfilled for both of them.
These women have shared a common disgrace, but they have also shared a common blessing. And together, they can heal from the disgrace and rejoice in the blessing.
Despite the many technologies that connect us, there are so many ways we can feel isolated today. For some, an unusual condition or life experience makes us feel like no one really understands us. But all of us live in ways that are so disconnected even from common human experiences that we can feel isolated by anything we sense is shameful or different or just not good enough.
Public rhetoric is saturated with judgment. You don’t have to be an unwed pregnant teenager or geriatric pregnancy to feel other people’s scorn. We simply have to say the wrong thing, vote the wrong way, misunderstand or misinterpret, read the wrong books or follow the wrong news source. And everything we do is wrong to someone. There’s no shared sense of virtue upon which we can build a community of affirmation.
And so we feel alone. Alone because of who we are, what we’ve experienced, what we don’t have, and a million other reasons. All those online support groups are meant to connect us to people who see and understand and affirm us. But more often than not, they, too, devolve into judgment around how people are responding to their situation or the way they view their experiences.
The angel promises Mary that, “nothing will be impossible with God,” but that sentiment can feel cruel in the face of the impossibilities we must live with every day. If God does not cure my depression or my child’s autism, does that mean God doesn’t want to, or that we don’t deserve it? If God doesn’t bring peace in places of war and justice in places of oppression, does that mean God doesn’t want to, or that we don’t deserve it? When we have been praying for that impossible thing, and it does not materialize, did we just not believe enough? And if God needs our belief to work miracles, how powerful is God, really? These questions leave us isolated even from God in those times when we need God’s strength and peace the most.
But if we return to the story of Mary and Elizabeth, we might notice that the impossible thing God is doing is not necessarily the thing that is wanted or even dreamt of. Yes, Elizabeth surely prayed for a child. But a child who would go running about the desert eating bugs and looking like a lunatic? This was an impossible child, but not exactly what Elizabeth prayed for. She wanted a child who would care for her in her old age and carry on the family lineage, not speak truth to power and get himself beheaded.
And Mary was surely praying for anything but a child at the time of her angelic visitation. The impossible thing God did in Mary’s life was not for her alone. It was a reality-altering, cosmically significant event for the redemption of the whole creation.
God is still doing the impossible, but sometimes that means God is doing the unimaginable. God is not sitting at a desk with a pile of prayer requests, stamping them “yes” or “no.” God’s answer is always “yes,” but that “yes” may not be anything we could expect or even know to pray for. It might be a very painful, grievous transformation. It might be a “yes” that allows us to let go of something or someone we cherish, but that is denying us the life God desires for us. It might be a “yes” that requires us to take risks and do things that frighten us. It might be a “yes” that feels overwhelming until we discover that we have the grace to do hard things.
God’s “yes” is always a yes to life, abundant life. But new life takes time, and is often born through pain. The apostle Paul wrote that “the whole creation has been groaning together as it suffers together the pains of labor.” New life must be planted, and grow, often invisibly, and finally labored into being.
And God’s impossible thing may not be for us alone. God is redeeming the whole creation, one heartbeat at a time. The impossible things in our lives may not be the things we wish for at all, but that doesn’t mean God isn’t doing an impossible, life-giving thing.
All this may be tough for us to believe. It is hard to believe in the impossible. The impossible is the stuff of myths and legends, not day-to-day life.
The good news is that our belief doesn’t affect God’s ability or inclination to do impossible things one bit. Elizabeth does not say that impossible things are happening, that God’s promises are being fulfilled, because of she who believed. She is saying that those who can believe are blessed. They are blessed to be able to hope, to rejoice, and to witness God’s impossible things.
This is an upside-down reality for us. We might be more inclined to say, “blessed are the cynics, for they will never be disappointed.” The blessing of belief is unusual, exceptional, and it is always a grace. The name with which the angel greets Mary, “favored one,” is the word charis, meaning grace. The angel says Mary has “found favor with God,” literally, has found grace with God. Her belief is a grace, not an achievement. It is a blessing, not something she’s accomplished.
And it is a blessing that is sometimes only recognized in community. When Mary arrived in the Judean hill country, she likely didn’t feel especially blessed. But Elizabeth is able to reflect to her the grace she has been given. Elizabeth sees blessing where Mary does not. And she names it. This affirmation is what leads Mary into rejoicing, what opens her heart and voice to sing.
In our world of bad news and broken hearts, belief is hard, maybe even impossible sometimes. And we come to church and maybe think we’re the only ones. The only ones not caught up in the joyous carols and good tidings. The only ones struggling to believe that nothing will be impossible with God. The only ones who are weary.
But friends, you are not alone. We are all on this journey of faith. We all struggle to trust sometimes. We all feel alone and let down by God at times. The road to reach someone who might understand seems impossibly long, even if it is only the distance of a few pews.
But, church, we are a people who do not define each other by their faults and failings. We don’t see one another the way the world sees people. We see the gifts each person bears. We see the grace each person possesses. We affirm the worthiness and belovedness of every creature, great and small. That is what defines the church community, or it is not a church at all.
God’s promises have been fulfilled in us, and we witness to that for each other. We see blessing in each other, even when we can’t recognize it in ourselves. And we name those blessings. We share common struggles, and we share common blessings. Together, we can heal from our weariness and rejoice in our blessings. Together, we can open our hearts and our voices and sing.
To God be all glory forever and ever. Amen.
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