How can this be?

Luke 1: 26-38, NT pages 56-57 In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. 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. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” 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. And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month of her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.” Then Mary said, “Here I am, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her. Sermon Here it is, Christmas time again. This has been my favorite season of the year for so long, because with Christmas time comes cookies, Christmas carols, egg nog flavored just about anything, getting together with friends and family, Christmas cards, and presents. It’s terribly exciting, but something that I learned to do a long time ago to ensure that I’ll enjoy Christmas, is to not get too caught up in it. I’ve learned to manage my expectations. That started when I was a child, writing to Santa Clause for this particular kind of train set. The train set was all that I could think about in the weeks leading up to December 25th. I had cut out a picture of it from the toy catalog. I’d pull the picture out of my pocket to look at it from time to time, and I was so full of anticipation on Christmas Eve that I couldn’t sleep. When morning finally came I remember running down the stairs, ignoring a pile of gifts, pushing them all aside, looking for this one particular train set that wasn’t there. When I realized that it really wasn’t there, nothing that was there mattered, and it seemed like, all at once, Christmas was ruined. Maybe you can tell a similar story, and so you’ve tried to help future generations by limiting their wish list even as they circle every single toy in the Toys Are Us catalogue. They look up from its pages just long enough for you to say, “Now remember kids, Santa can’t bring you everything in there,” but a part of them wishes for everything any way, just as a part of me still does. I try to manage my expectations, but sometimes that’s easier said than done. Every year I watch the movie White Christmas, and I’ve listened to Al Gore enough to doubt that a white Christmas going to happen, but I’ll watch for snowflakes any way, and will most likely end up disappointed. Which is typical. Most of the time, Christmas is so built up in my imagination that I’m at least a little disappointed, and maybe that’s how it is for you too. You get excited about your daughter’s Holiday assembly at elementary school. She’s been walking around singing the words to the song for weeks, but this event ends up being kind of like Space Mountain at Disney World because to sign in at the school you have to stand in line for an hour, and your kid sings for about 30 seconds. This is supposed to be “the most wonderful time of the year,” but do you know how many people have heart attacks during Christmas? Have you seen the panic in their eyes as they push an empty cart through Walmart? I bet there’s a part of you that can understand why your mother in-law started leaving the tree down in the basement, why your uncle started going to Florida for the month of December. I bet there’s a part of you who can relate to Mary, who when addressed by an angel telling her that a miracle is about to happen, can’t help but reply by saying, “How can this be?” Which isn’t nearly as skeptical as what the Priest Zechariah asks. It’s his story that is told right before Mary’s in the first chapter of the Gospel of Luke. When the angle came to him in the Temple, telling him that his wife Elizabeth who had been barren for so long would conceive and have a son in her old age, he doubted the angel’s claim. It’s just like a priest to act holy in front of the congregation but to harbor doubts when he comes face to face with a real angel, so as punishment the angel Gabriel made him mute, unable to speak until the day when John the Baptist was named and Zechariah could see for himself. Mary is different though. While Zechariah says, “How will I know that this is so?” – prove it to me angle because I’ve been disappointed enough times in this life to know that not every little boy gets a train set from Santa Clause – Mary on the other hand asks, “How can this be?’ For generations Christians have been trying to answer her question. How can it be that Mary, this young, unwed woman, would become pregnant with the son of God? We give up on miracles. That’s why when I heard about the woman in the nursing home who requested, “I’ll be home for Christmas” to a group a carolers it made me sad. How will you get there? Will your children even come to visit you? Or will you be there all alone eating a meal that came out of the microwave humming to yourself the tune turned bitter by reality? “I’ll be home for Christmas,” and nearly every other Christmas Carol is packed so full of hope that the Ebenezer Scrooges who lives in my heart is ready for the Christmas music to stop, but the angel said to Mary: “You will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. 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. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end,” she simply asked, “How can this be?” She didn’t close the door, saying it can’t happen, it won’t, and I’m too old for believing such childish things – instead she simply asked the question, “How?” A question that leaves room for something miraculous. We are so convinced we know what is impossible however. Just the other day I was walking back to the church from Downtown. A lady yelled out to me from her car, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying, so I ran out there to her while traffic was stopped. When I got close enough I understood that she was saying, “Honey, you need a ride?” I didn’t know what to say, but it was an old Honda Civic – a man was driving, she was there in the other front seat, I looked in the back and there were literally 6 people back there. “There’s nowhere to sit,” I said. She looked me up and down, then smiled up at me so that I could see where she was missing teeth, “Honey, you look so good in that pink shirt, you’ll just sit here in my lap.” And there I had thought there wasn’t any room. Don’t be so sure you know what is possible and what isn’t. Some think they know already that there aren’t any jobs out there, so they’ve already given up applying, ensuring their fate. Convinced that love will never find them, others have given up looking. And sure that failure is their destiny other can’t gather enough energy to even try. Mary on the other hand – not concurred by the power of sin and death – opens the door of hope enough to ask “How can this be?” and soon enough it will. Christ our Lord will be born to you – the greatest sign that the God who created you is still at work in ways that will defy your experience and your expectations if you have faith enough to leave open the door of possibility. Do not give up on hope - for nothing will be impossible with God. Amen.