The Light Shines from Us: Psalm 89: 1-4, 19-26; Luke 1: 26-38
Every single year just before Christmas, without fail, I walk up into this pulpit, and from Luke 1, I preach on the virtues of a poverty-level, unwed, teenage mother. Let’s not kid ourselves or sugarcoat what the scripture is saying here. Mary was likely a teenager—about fifteen or sixteen years old at the most—and she was engaged, not married, to Joseph. And now, she is about to be “with child.” Yes, her baby is God’s holy son, the Savior of the world, but imagine what it felt like for her to step out in public at seven or eight months with child, young, mostly alone, scared, and vulnerable.
We are told in Matthew 1:9 that Joseph, “being a righteous man and not wanting to [publicly] disgrace her, planned to send her away secretly.” He didn’t want to cause her public disgrace or make a public example of her supposed sin, even thought this was no sin at all. Imagine the looks, the stares, and the fear that she might be arrested, shamed, or even threatened with death. That fear and embarrassment was caught in her spirit alongside the resolve to follow and do as God had called her. Those two things together left her, I’m sure, vulnerable and worried about the darkness that could overwhelm her from those who didn’t know and refused to understand her calling from God.
We all have our moments and days of feeling vulnerable of worrying about the indignities which we may not be able to escape. Someone might have lived and struggled as an unwed, teenage mother. Someone might struggle with poverty, addiction, or life’s other worst bad habits. Someone might deal day in and day out with depression, suicidal thoughts, hopelessness. Someone may struggle with perfection or the belief that perfection exists in our world. Someone might struggle with growing older and realizing you may need someone to handle your money, change a diaper, help you remember those things which seem to be fading faster and faster each day. As humans we all have a personal struggle with our vulnerabilities whether they are similar or different to one another.
Elizabeth, Mary’s cousin, struggled with her own vulnerabilities and insecurities. She lived into her old age without having children. She was convinced this was an indictment of her as a woman, potential mother, and wife of the high priest, Zecheriah. And let’s not forget him, by any means. He challenged the angel Gabriel in the very Sanctuary of the Temple when told his elderly wife would have a child. He was silenced until the child was born because he doubted God’s word to him. Oh, and there’s David, from the Psalm we read, who is so highly praised: “My faithfulness and unfailing love will be with him and by my authority he will grow in power.” He’s hailed as king, conqueror, and mighty servant of the Lord. Yet he killed a man to steal his wife due to his ego and his lust.
None of us is immune from begin vulnerable or broken, from having our most ingrained fears and dread exposed like a raw nerve. We all will feel the same struggle that Mary likely endured. What will people think? Will my friends abandon me? Will my family still love and support me? Am I going to be terrified and embarrassed every time I’m in public? Will I be judged? The Bible doesn’t tell us what kind of suffering Mary endured. But I’m sure, at the very least, there were questions when she turned up pregnant, and the timing to her marriage was just a little off.
What do we do? I think the best example for us is in that last verse: “Mary responded, ‘I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.’” In that moment, she accepted it all: being the mother of the Holy Child, whatever good Jewish society might say and think, the pain of losing her child to the cross, knowing that even in the pain and pouring tears God still had a plan. Even though so much darkness and evil could come against her, she chose to let God work and let Christ’s holy light begin with and shine from her.
What about when we feel broken and vulnerable. How do we get that light shining in us again? It’s easy to read a story about Mary’s faith, but we still have to find our own faith and courage as well. There’s another reminder that is a bit more personal to us. In Matthew 1, where that Gospel announces the birth of Jesus, we are told the virgin will give birth to a son, and his name shall be called “Immanuel” which means, “God with us.” Think about that for a moment: Immanuel—God with us.
Even as the darkness of life is around us, and we feel most vulnerable, we have this promise—God with us. A lady who had just lost her sister went to her pastor to find answers. As she became more and more upset over the pain in her life she cried out, “Why won’t God fix this for me, can’t God just take away my pain and be done with it!?” The pastor thought for a moment and said quietly, “In life we will have both amazing joy and unbearable pain. It is the nature of life that we enjoy or endure through both. We will experience both times of great strength and times of great vulnerability. The truth is God is with us in each of those times—both rejoicing with us and crying with us. For God is not like a pain medicine which leaves the dangerous wound and only takes away the pain; instead, God is the healer who heals and mends you even as you may still hurt. God may not spare you the pain, but he will heal you of the cause of that pain.” [1]
Mary lived both of those truths. God worked a miracle in and through her, bringing salvation into the world through her obedience to God’s word. But Mary still had to live her life as a poor young lady. She lived in a rural, backwards town and was a young, unwed, teenage mother and lived all the scorn and stigmas from people who did not know better what God was doing. Zechariah was a holy priest, living the answered prayers of a son to be born in his and Elizabeth’s old age, but he still bore the months of silence which marked his disbelief in God. David was God’s anointed king, probably closer to God than almost any other king of Israel. And yet he, too, fell short in his life—mighty king, adulterer, and murderer all in one. Yet each and all of the people were still given God’s grace, God’s forgiveness, and still shined the light of God’s glory.
Christmas is an amazing time of year with joy, hope, celebration and all of the “merry” things. But there always seems to be a darkness, a pain, or a stifled tear lurking in the shadows of our souls from past troubles, burdens we bear, or worries to come. Remember that our God is a God who gives us endurance but not necessarily an easy road. God heals us, but we may still have to live with the pain as we heal. But in all of life, we never lose that grace-filled Christmas promise that whatever happens or wherever we go, we have this: Immanuel, God with us.
[1] Thank you to Rev. Morris Wood for the inspiration that served as the basis for this story.
Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/390811685533275