Advent Anticipation: Surprised by God

Luke 1:68-79

Georgetown Presbyterian Church

Rev. Stephen H. Wilkins

December 10, 2006

The other day I came across this quote from Dave Barry, the former nationally syndicated columnist. He is bemoaning the separation of all things religious in the school holiday celebrations at his son’s school. This is what he says:

"To avoid offending anybody, the school dropped religion altogether and started singing about the weather. At my son’s school, they now hold the winter program in February and sing increasingly non-memorable songs such as ‘Winter Wonderland’, ‘Frosty the Snowman’, and—this is a real song—‘Suzy Snowflake,’ all of which is pretty funny because we live in Miami. A visitor from another planet would assume that the children belonged to the Church of Meteorology."

Let me be clear on this: We are not the "Church of Meteorology." We are Georgetown Presbyterian Church, and we worship the living God, and at this time of the year we celebrate the birth of our Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ. And we’re not afraid to admit this, because the birth of the Christ child is good news of great joy for all the people. And good news is meant to be shared.

I don’t know about you, but when I read through the first chapter of the Gospel According to Luke, I feel like I’m watching a Broadway musical. I mean, the narrative seems to be going along smoothly, and story lines of major characters are artfully woven together. And then all of a sudden you have some of the characters burst into song. Two of the key characters of the story--one very young, innocent peasant girl named Mary, and the other a prominent member of the religious community, well along in years, Zechariah the priest--two of the key characters of the story spontaneously break into song.

The song of Mary is known as the Magnificat, a title taken from the first line of the song, "My soul magnifies the Lord..." The song of Zechariah, though not as well-known as the song of Mary, is referred to as the Benedictus, which is taken from the blessing pronounced in the first stanza, "Praise be to the Lord..." Both are songs that exude joy and praise for God, and that proclaim hope for salvation for the world.

What is it that makes both young Mary and the much older Zechariah burst into songs of joy?

Both Mary and Zechariah have something in common: both have received a message from God, a startling announcement that each of them is about to welcome a baby into their lives. The young virgin Mary, as we well know by now, learns that she is pregnant by the Holy Spirit. Zechariah learns that his wife Elizabeth, who is well beyond child-bearing years and who has been unable to conceive on her own, is going to give birth to a son. In each case the message comes as a complete surprise: "God gives Zechariah and Elizabeth that for which they had always yearned, but long since despaired of receiving. And God gives Mary that which she could never imagine in even her most daring moments." The God of Mary, and the God of Zechariah and Elizabeth, and our God, is a God who comes to us in surprising ways to heal our old hurts and to open our lives to new possibilities beyond the limits of our finite minds.

At Advent we remember that God surprises us. God surprises us because his ways are not our ways. God comes to us and acts in ways that we would not expect. This morning I want to lift up from the songs of Mary and Zechariah three ways in which God surprises us: God surprises us when he takes ordinary people like Mary or Elizabeth or Zechariah, or ordinary people like you and me, and he accomplishes the extraordinary; God surprises us with the depth of his mercy and grace; and God surprises us when he comes and dwells among us.

In the Magnificat, Mary breaks out in joy as she considers that God has chosen to achieve his salvation of the world through such a humble servant as herself: "My soul magnifies the Lord," she says, "…for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant." In a world that viewed women as of little more use than serving the needs of men and bearing children, it was indeed a surprise of divine proportions that God would choose this humble peasant girl as the one who would give birth to the savior of the world.

Zechariah and Elizabeth were both along in years, and had long since given up hope of ever being able to have children. Yet God opened Elizabeth’s womb and announced his plan to use the child conceived within her as the forerunner of the Messiah.

Don’t you see—you are never in such a position that God would not be able to accomplish great things through you. In our world we tend to disregard our elderly, because we consider them not robust and strong enough to do anything of worth. Or maybe we look with disdain at people on the other side of the tracks, thinking that nothing worthwhile will ever come from those neighborhoods.

But surprise!

God can and does use ordinary people to accomplish the extraordinary. There is no such thing as a useless ball of clay in the hands of the divine Potter. Never close the door on the thought that God has great plans for you. In God’s hands, nothing is impossible. God surprises us with what God can do with the ordinary.

A second surprise that we encounter in the first chapter of Luke is that God’s salvation comes to us not by might or by political upheaval, but through repentance and the forgiveness of sins. Nine months of forced silence has given Zechariah the opportunity to ponder this truth, and he reflects upon it in his song, when he declares that the purpose of his son John will be "to give [the Lord’s] people the knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God."

In a world that stresses that we should only get what we deserve, that is a surprising announcement. We think that only the people who are good enough should enter into the kingdom of God. And if we’re honest with ourselves, we’ll admit that we define "good enough" in such a way that we are sure to fit the definition!

But the problem is, nobody is good enough. At least not if you believe the word of God, for Scripture is unequivocal in declaring that "no one is righteous, not even one… all have sinned and come short of the glory of God… we all, like sheep, have gone astray…" If we want what we deserve, then we will receive judgment, not salvation.

But again God surprises us, for the righteousness that opens the door for us to enter into the kingdom comes not from us, but from God through Christ. The door of the kingdom opens through repentance and the forgiveness of sins. The surprise of this announcement is the same as you will often hear during the assurance of pardon in our Sunday services: "God does not treat us as our sins deserve, nor does he repay us according to our iniquity. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is God’s love for those who fear him. And as far as the east is from the west, so far does God remove our transgressions from us." At Advent we are reminded that we do not get what we deserve. Instead we get mercy, and forgiveness and grace. And that, in our world, is a surprise.

And we remember a third way that God surprises us: He comes to us. The Christian faith is the only major religion in the world in which God reaches down to us and comes to us and dwells with us. All other major world religions require us to earn our way up to God, to find some way to reach God on our own. But not the Christian faith. This baby that Mary celebrates is very God of very God. Jesus is the Word made flesh. The Christian faith makes the startling declaration that in Christ, God became human to show us the way and to redeem us from our sin. Instead of us having to find our way to God, God comes down to us and shows us the way.

Zechariah declares this as he begins his song, "Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel, because he has visited us and has redeemed us." Don’t you see—the surprising announcement at Advent is that God is not a far-off God who does not care about us, but a God who has come and dwelt among us. He is a God who is with us, celebrating with us our joys, and caring for us in our pain. God comes to us, in all our circumstances. "God comes to the woman who feels in exile in her own marriage. God comes to the man who grieves the loss of his life’s dreams. God comes to the child who lives on the street. God comes to the parents who struggle to feed and clothe their children. God comes to the one whose loneliness or depression intensifies every Christmas."

Advent is the surprising announcement that the baby born of Mary is Emmanuel, God-with-Us. In all of life, God is with us. In our joys and our sorrows, in our happiness and in our grief, God comes to stand with us, whatever our condition. That is his promise to us.

Advent is the reminder that our God is full of surprises. God’s ways are not our ways, and so when God acts, he surprises us.

May all God’s surprises lead us to greater depths of awe, and devotion, and faith, and hope. Amen.