Last Saturday, we took a family trip to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston.  Most of the gang wanted to see the Egyptian exhibit with the mummies.  Peter liked the American masters and the impressionists most.  And it’s probably no surprise that I was especially drawn to the works which depicted scenes from the bible.

 

There were numerous interpretations of the Virgin Mary and the infant Jesus, of the crucifixion, and of the annunciation, when the Angel Gabriel comes to the young maiden Mary and announces that she will become the mother of God.  In many artists’ renderings of this story -- not just the ones in the Museum of Fine Arts but throughout the world -- Mary does not look like a poor teenage peasant girl living in poverty in a village occupied by a foreign power.  Instead, she is often depicted as a gowned and sometimes crowned young woman, as you can see in your bulletin insert.

 

No matter how many different ways she is depicted in art, Mary is the most recognizable woman in human history.  And yet, we Protestants tend to shy away from her and her story of faith.  I will admit that for most of my very mainline Protestant upbringing, Mary would appear only briefly at Christmas in the gospel lessons I heard, in the carols I sang, and in the manger scenes I set out on my table.  And when I boxed up the nativity sets at the end of the season, I would also put away Mary and her astounding story of faith. 

 

For many people, the virgin birth can be a stumbling block to the Christian faith.  But if we read the birth narratives through only the lens of reason, we will miss the timeless lesson of this story.  Although we can’t say for sure if it is all fact, we can be very sure that it’s all true.  The point of the story is not about science; it is about God and God’s power to make a way where there is no way, to make the impossible become possible. 

 

Mary’s story is one, I believe, that needs to be reclaimed by our reformed heritage, but because we have heard the account so often and know how it all turns out, it can be difficult to recapture the initial shock of what the angel is saying to Mary.  St. Luke tells us that when Gabriel appears to Mary and says, “Greetings, favored one!  The Lord is with you,” she is "much perplexed by the angel’s words and wonders what sort of greeting this might be."

 

Then the angel says to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.”  Writer Elie Wiesel notes that “whenever an angel says 'Be not afraid!' you'd better start worrying, because a big assignment is on the way."

 

And a “big assignment” it is!  The angel continues, “And now you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and will name him Jesus.  He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most high, and the Lord will give to him the throne of his ancestor David.  He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there shall be no end.”

 

What must be going through Mary’s heart and mind when she hears Gabriel’s words?  Bewildered, she asks the angel, “How can this be?”  She wants to make sense out of what makes no sense.  And so she asks, “How can this be?” and we wonder if, behind this one question, she is also saying to herself, "How do I explain this to Joseph?  What will my parents think?  Will the townspeople ostracize and stone me?”  If any such questions do occur to Mary, she does not ask them, but instead listens as the angel tells her the barest details about how it will all come to pass.  And then it is Mary’s turn to speak. 

 

There are instances in our life which become turning points, forks in the road – significant, life-changing moments in which everything hinges on whether we respond by shaking our heads and walking away, or we respond by lifting up holy hands and saying "yes!" to life and to God.

 

And we find here in Luke’s gospel a turning point – not just for Mary, but for human history, for God’s plan of salvation.  Writer and theologian Frederick Buechner describes Gabriel in this moment as hoping Mary “wouldn’t notice that beneath the great, golden wings he himself was trembling with fear to think that the whole future of creation hung now on the answer of a girl.”[1] 

 

What if Mary had said "no"?  It wouldn’t have been the first time nor the last that someone had said “no” to God.  In the Garden of Eden, Eve defies God and eats the fruit of the tree.  Jonah refuses God’s call to go to Ninevah and flees in the other direction, ending up in the belly of a great fish.  The Rich Young Man refuses Jesus’ command to sell all he has in order to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. 

 

Mary faces possible rejection by Joseph, a life of poverty raising a child as a single mom, even death by stoning.  We would have understood if Mary had said no.

 

But she doesn’t.

 

To Gabriel, she says, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord.  Let it be with me according to your word.”  Mary says “yes” to God’s divine plan, risking rejection, death, everything in order to "smuggle God into the world through her own body."[2]  Mary says yes, and the world is changed forever. 

 

And after she says yes, she breaks into song, proclaiming, “My soul magnifies the Lord.”  This treasured piece of scripture, known as “The Magnificat,” is the basis for the choir’s anthem this morning, as well as our final hymn, “Tell Out My Soul.”  In it, Mary praises “the God who was at work in her and through her, who was bringing hope and a new future to the people, who was rewriting humanity's story by overturning oppression and filling the hungry with good things… The truth that the Divine was at work in the world… was the source of Mary’s joy.”[3]

 

Our story of Christian faith begins when an ordinary young girl, with no credentials except the love of God and a willing heart, trusts an angel’s message and steps out in courage and faith to become an extraordinary conduit for God’s love.

 

And the story of Mary and her visit from the angel Gabriel is our story, too, for each one of us has the opportunity to say “yes” to God.  Each one of us has the opportunity to let the Holy Spirit touch us so that Christ is born in our hearts, that we may be vessels for the Holy, carriers of the Divine Light.  Each one of us can listen for the voice of God, calling us ordinary folk to extraordinary acts of faith.  Each one of us can say no to the empty messages of Christmas consumerism, and say yes to the message of faith and hope that to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and his name is Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Prince of Peace, Jesus the Christ.

 

On page 3 of your bulletin insert, there is a depiction of the Annunciation by Fra Angelico.  It is actually one of a set of frescoes in a Dominican monastery in Florence, Italy, where Fra Angelico himself lived, and the 43 frescoes that he painted were used as devotional aids.  He painted “The Annunciation” opposite the staircase which the monks used to go between their cells upstairs and the chapel downstairs.  Several times each day, the monks passed this painting, and once each day, they gathered in front of it to pray.  Unlike our nativity scenes and the other Christmas decorations which get put away at the end of the holiday, this art stayed up year round so that people could continuously meditate on Mary’s story.

 

Can you imagine the monks passing this Annunciation fresco every day and gathering in front of it to ponder the angel’s visit, God’s assignment, and Mary’s courage and faith in answering “yes”?  How might we be shaped and formed spiritually if we were to consider this story every day of our lives, pondering it not for its artistic value, but as a prayerful act of devotion?

 

May we all remember the story of Mary, an ordinary young girl whose extraordinary courage and faith changed the world forever. 

 

May we remember her story, that we very ordinary people might also listen for God, and in trust and in faith, say “yes,” that God might do something extraordinary through us. 

 

May we remember Gabriel’s words: "Do not be afraid” and “Nothing is impossible with God" so that we can respond, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word."  Amen.

 

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