Putting Away the Groceries

Sunday, December 18, 2011
Luke 1:26-38

Of all things today, I find myself thinking about a friend of mine's thesis work on presentations of pregnancy. Perhaps it's because I tried to remember if we have two times during the year that we read this gospel and talk about this event (March 25th is the other one), and then I thought about how odd it is. One week, we hear that Jesus is going to be born, the next week (in some years the next day) He is being born. We skip over the pregnancy part - the way so many plays, television shows, and (mostly) movies do out of what occasionally seems like desperation to avoid having to portray pregnant women (which they often do poorly).

Then again, we do get bits of Mary's pregnancy - we hear about Elizabeth and Joseph's dream. But I feel like we should talk about the pregnancy and the aftermath of this announcement more often than we do. Because Mary is our blueprint. Several times in this story, we are told of her just utter confusion. And while it is our blueprint of what our attitude to such calls should be, "Behold I am the handmaiden of the Lord, May it be done to me according to your word" is also kind of -- well, what else do you say to that?

We've all been in those situations. What do you say to that?

If an angel jumped down to Earth and specifically asked us for something, well, what do you say to that? Yes, Moses tried to argue God as the Burning Bush out of choosing Him and Zaccariah refused to believe it was really happening - but if the angel prefaces the announcement by counteracting any self-deprecation on your part by pointing out you are full of God's grace so can't say you are unfit in His eyes and makes sure to point out that nothing is impossible to God, see convenient evidence, well, what is left?

We don't talk about the moment you realize that your marriage into the House of David is over. That you will have to tell your mother. That you don't even have anyone you can falsely blame the pregnancy on. That everyone will start a gossipy witch hunt to figure out who deflowered the virginal Mary. The moment you realize that the angel also gave you an indication of the probably one single person who will believe you as an act of kindness. The moment you realize that a divorce in disgrace followed by single parenthood is the probable new direction of your life and that you have no idea how God could have meant this to work out any better or if He did.

The moment you realize that where you are is no longer safe. How Mary turned in desperation to someone who would believe her first. To bolster her confidence. How she was rewarded with Elizabeth and Fetus John the Baptist's faith, how beautifully the Magnificat came from her in that moment, but how it only made it more certain that she would have to return and tell Joseph.

We don't like this part of the story. We do it to the fairy tale heroes all the time - all of those prophets returning to their hometowns strange and unwelcome. The real ending of the Shire portion of The Lord of the Rings. How to act when your life has changed. What you even do when something that big happens.

I remember one movie of Jesus's life beginning with Mary coming in the door laden with parcels presumably from the market and seeing the angel and dropping everything and now I wonder: did you ever pick it up? When the angel disappears and the dust clears, when your mind unmercifully still knows that it was all real and you must now do the divine mission in the real world - what do you do? Pick up your groceries and put them away or just head straight for Elizabeth's and the first person you can think of who won't laugh in your face?

We build our little lives up around what we think they will be. And Mary is our blueprint for when God dramatically reorders what we thought we were meant to do. We have to be willing to let them break, our little lives we've built up. That's what He meant by leaving father and brother and wives. Be willing to hurt Joseph to say yes to God. Not just take disgrace on yourself, but know that others will suffer for it. That takes a greater act of faith once the angel has returned to heaven.

We still haven't figured out quite how to do this part of the story, and I wish we knew more of Mary's.