Expecting

Sermon preached Sunday, December 23, 2018, the Fourth Sunday of Advent, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. Audio can be found here.

Expect the unexpected. It’s a cliché frequently used and over used. As Christians, though, it might well be the most apt descriptor of God’s action. Even more, these three words, “expect the unexpected,” are incredibly appropriate when it comes to this last Sunday of Advent, this last week of waiting before celebrating Christ’s coming to dwell among us.

It’s what the prophet Micah proclaims, as his community is overrun and torn apart by Assyrian armies. Micah wrote his words away from the great city of Jerusalem. He wrote away from the seat of great power. He sees the walled and fortified cities crumbling and knows that the salvation of Israel will not come from those places. Instead, he speaks to Bethlehem.

Bethlehem, a little town almost in the middle of nowhere. Bethlehem, part of one of the “little clans of Judah.” Bethlehem, a village that nobody expected much from. And then, Micah’s bold proclamation: “But you, O Bethlehem…from you shall come forth for me one who is to rule in Israel.” (Micah 5:2) In other words, help will come from an unexpected place…even a place like Bethlehem.

In the mist of destruction, Micah is not deterred from his faith in God. Micah points to hope for the future, hope that will not come to fruition in his lifetime, hope that finds its embodiment in the baby borne by Mary.

Mary, herself, is unexpected—as is Elizabeth, her relative. When we look at these women in their ancient context, they are truly remarkable. They are women, first of all, having little to no agency in the world around them. Elizabeth is older, once thought to be barren. Mary is young and could face public disgrace for being an unwed mother if Joseph decides to jilt her. They are not from powerful families. They have no real political or monetary clout. And yet, these two women meet each other and talk about changing the world.

Elizabeth’s husband, Zechariah, he was told his son would be a prophet. In response, he voices his disbelief to the angelic messenger and is made mute. Today, we have that boy’s mother, Elizabeth, offering her own understanding and a prophecy. She recognizes Mary and the baby she carries as her own child leaps in her womb. Elizabeth, in fact, is the first person to say aloud who Jesus is. “And why has this happened to me,” she asks, “that the mother of my Lord comes to me?” (Luke 1:44)

The next thing she says is interesting. Elizabeth could just be talking about Mary, but she could also be talking about herself…and all who believe what God has promised. Elizabeth says, “blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.” (Luke 1:45) Blessed be Mary for believing the angel’s announcement to her. Blessed be Elizabeth: even though she was unable to conceive, she believed she would indeed bare the one who would prepare the way.

Mary goes further and sings a song that is both thanksgiving for what God has done and praise for what God will continue to do. This song, called the Magnificat, announces shocking reversals: the proud are scattered, the powerful are brought down from their thrones, the lowly are lifted up, the hungry are filled, the rich are sent away empty. She, Mary, is looked upon with favor by God and knows that because of God’s work, not her own, she will be called blessed throughout history.

These sentiments find their way into Jesus’ ministry. In his first sermon, he declares that the Spirit of the Lord is upon him, “to bring good news to the poor…proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18-19) Jesus is quoting the prophet Isaiah, but in the themes are echoes and connections to Mary’s song. Can you imagine Jesus growing up, hearing from his mother the story of how God showed her favor, hearing his mother proclaim God’s goodness? Mary would not have been expected to teach her son the finer points of faith, that’s supposed to come from the rabbis and pharisees and scribes…but I can’t think of a better person for him to learn from.

We are called to expect the unexpected—to expect to find God at work in unexpected places and unexpected people.

The reversals the Magnificat sets forth are expansive and defy our preconceived notions of greatness. The humble are lifted up—people who are not doormats, but rather people who recognize that every other person’s humanity and life is just as important as theirs. The proud, those who insist on being regarded as better than the people around them, these people are brought down low and shown that no one is above another.

The poor, having little or nothing, are given feasts and all they need to live on. They have a deep gratitude for each crumb that passes their lips, knowing how precious it can be. The rich, on the other hand, are sent away from the feast empty. Their money cannot buy them a place in the community and their greed and refusal to care for the people around them has set them outside.

Perhaps the hardest expectation to be rid of for the people of Jesus’ time has to do with how God will assert power. The Roman occupation was violent and oppressive. Many longed for the Messiah to come, raise up an incredible army, and strike down the Roman forces. A military king, they wanted. A soldier ready for war. Someone who would get revenge for all the atrocities visited upon them.

Instead, God comes in the form of an infant. When that infant is grown, he tells his followers, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” “All who take up the sword will die by the sword.” This is the one in whom we trust, the one whom we follow, even if it’s not the one we expected.

God seeks to upset our preconceived notions.

We are at the beginning of the church year, but we know where we are going. We are about to celebrate Christ’s birth, but we know how Christ will die. The unexpected actions of God lead us, inevitably, to the cross. God, who chose to dwell among us and live out a life with us, never does what we might do.

Self-preservation is a strong motivator and, frankly, if I was in the garden like Jesus and saw soldiers coming at me to arrest me, I might tell my disciples to go ahead and get out their swords, instead of putting them away. If I was being interrogated by a Roman governor, I might say anything I could to get off the hook. If I was about to be crucified, I might—okay, I would—use my godly powers to stop it from happening! But God doesn’t do what we would do or what we would expect. God chooses the path that is unexpected and shows that love is the greatest force of all.

The cradle to the cross….but that’s not all! Finally, in perhaps the greatest subversion of our expectations, God goes to the cross for us—not because of our own righteousness, but because of God’s. Not because of how good we are, but because of how good God is. Not because we deserve it, but because God has chosen to give it. Not because we are the wealthiest or most talented or most popular or the most respected…but because God loves us just as we are.

People of God, expect the unexpected. Amen.