“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 this 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 for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.’ Then Mary said, ‘Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.’ Then the angel departed from her.” (Luke 1:26-38 NRSV)

God of grace, we remember the words of Mary who said, "Here I am the servant of the Lord. Let it be with me according to your word." Most holy God, we pray that we like Mary may embrace your will today and live in faith through Jesus Christ. Amen.

This morning, a week before Christmas, we come upon perhaps the most shining encounter in the entire Christmas story, as the angel Gabriel delivers to Mary the astonishing news that she, a young unmarried girl in a little far-away place where nothing of importance has ever happened, has been chosen to be the bearer of the Son of God - or, as St. Francis would have put it, "to be the mother of Christ."

"Greetings, O favored one," Gabriel says unto Mary and delivers the astonishing news. Mary is perplexed. The angel says to her, "Be not afraid."

Mary is the second most important person in this story. Artists, more than theologians, have understood her prominence in the Christian tradition and have painted and sculpted and written many of the artistic treasures of our civilization with her as subject—Michelangelo’s Pieta—a mother cradling the body of her dead and beloved son; the beloved music of Ave Maria, and Fra Angelico’s The Annunciation—on our bulletin cover this morning, is a stunningly beautiful expression of the mystery and grace and courage of her experience.  This 15^th century monk who decorated the walls of his monastery with some of the world’s most exquisite art provides an avenue into the theology and faith which she represents and enables
 

The artist painted the angel as a lovely but ordinary person, looking a lot like Mary. And the angel is waiting—not only announcing but waiting for Mary’s answer. So, it’s more than an annunciation actually. It’s God acting—initiating—proposing—and then waiting for human response.
 

Frederick Buechner wrote about the moment,

“she struck the angel Gabriel as hardly old enough to have a child at all, let alone this child . . . he only hoped she 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.” (Peculiar Treasures, A Biblical Who’s Who, p. 39)

Mary is startled, afraid. Angels always evoke fear first, and the first thing they say is always, “Fear not.” Mary’s response is normal.  So the angel reassures her. You have found favor with God.” God will do something through her, God has chosen her—ordinary, poor, young, non-descript, non-important, non-person. God chose her for God’s own reasons which she certainly didn’t understand.

The whole future of creation hung now on the answer of a girl. Imagine all the angels gathered around, looking down, holding their collective breath. “What will she say? Will she do it? C’mon, Mary, say yes!” Because they all know the way God works is only by allowing people freely to answer "yes."

Freedom of choice, the exercise of free will, has always been at the top of God’s priority list when it comes to interaction with human beings. God would never force a “yes” from anyone, would never trick anyone into a response of love, and would never make obedience the best choice if people didn’t truly have the option of disobedience as well.

That’s the way God has been from the beginning. God would even allow people to continue in their own disobedience, turn them over to their own ideas of how to make their own way, to get their own way, to find themselves in the prison of their own designs, hit bottom if necessary, if only to give them a firm place from which to say, “Okay, yes. Your will be done.”

God respects our freedom – has, since those days way back in the garden. If it weren’t so, God wouldn’t have to come up with new ways to reach out to people, to ask them again and again to say yes – freely say yes to God. And now those ways had culminated in this moment, when an angel stands before a girl, answering her questions, his knees knocking together, trying to keep the quiver out of his voice, as he and all the angelic host and even God wait. Will she do it? Will she say, “Yes”?

We know the answer Mary gave: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord. Let it be with me according to your word.”

Here am I, the servant of the Lord. With this answer, all the heavens rejoice, and the plan is set in motion that would cause a new light to shine in the darkness, new hope, new peace, and new freedom. And Mary’s answer gives words for us too. These are words that change everything.

During Advent, we hear about how to prepare for the coming of the Lord, how to become more and more the disciple – the follower of Christ – we are called to be. We hear about Advent’s gifts to us: a time for self-examination, a time for repentance, for turning away from things and people and ways of life and behavior that keep us from drawing close to the God who is always rushing to meet us, whether we acknowledge that God and God’s open arms of love for us and the whole world or not. Today’s Advent gift is the gift of commitment, of turning toward God and making the commitment to offer ourselves as no less than the servants of God, to say, along with Mary, our own “yes”: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord.” These are words that change everything.

Mary wasn’t the first to say these words. She stands in a long line of witnesses who have been brave, or ignorant, or joyous, or adventurous, or grateful, or obedient enough to say to God’s request, “Here am I.”

Noah said, “Here am I,” and God told him to build an ark filled with animals – a floating zoo – and told him that he would spend the next forty days thrashing about in the sea and wondering about God’s sense of humor in making this his reward for being righteous.

Abram said, “Here am I,” and God told him to get his wife, pack his things, and go sight unseen to a land God would show him.

The boy Samuel said, “Here am I,” and then began a long career of speaking truth to the powers that be.

And Mary, this young girl, probably just old enough to bear a child, ponders and asks and wonders, and then says the words that change everything: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord.”

And she would give birth to the one who would make service, even service unto death, the way of life.” The name of Mary’s baby was Jesus. In Hebrew, his name is Yeshua, which means, “Yahweh or ‘God’ liberates.” God brings freedom.

When we are willing to serve God and do what God asks of us, it is freeing. When we can stop asking, “What’s in it for me? How does this help me? What can I get out of it? What have you done for me lately?” then we will know freedom.

When we are freed from all attempts to be self-important and self-serving, we can be truly freed – freed for service, for purpose, for meaning.

When we present ourselves as God’s servants and are open to hearing what it is God asks of us, we will take our places in a long line of faithful people who have done just that. Then we will find ourselves set free to perform both small acts of care and compassion and large ones. We will be made available for the adventures God has in store for us, for the work God needs us to do, and the work God has designed us, uniquely, to do.

And so, given the mysterious annunciation to Mary and her brave, definitive “yes,” the question for you and me is this—what gift have you been given which is awaiting your answer: where has God come to you with a gift, an agenda, a task to do, a mission to accomplish?

What music is in you that needs to be sung?

What poetry is in your heart that needs to be written?

What love is in you—that God is waiting for you to be vulnerable enough to express, courageous enough to say, graceful enough to demonstrate?

What generosity is in you that God is patiently waiting for you to discover and give?

What important decision needs to be made—what new venture begun—what new life change initiated – in your life – in the life of St. Philip?

Where are you pregnant with possibility and hope?

Kathleen Norris wrote about Mary. “She does not lose her voice but finds it . . . ‘Here am I.’ . . . Mary proceeds—as we must do in life—making her commitments without knowing much about what it will entail or where it will lead. I treasure the story because it forces me to ask: When the mystery of God’s love breaks through into my consciousness, do I run from it? Do I ask of it what I cannot answer? Shrugging, do I retreat into facile cliches, . . . Or am I virgin enough to respond from my deepest, truest self, and say something new, a ‘yes’ that will change me forever?” (The Book of Women’s Sermons, Lee Hancock, Editor, “Annunciation: On Mystery,” p. 186)

When God’s love breaks through into your consciousness, what will you do? How will you answer?

It will happen this season. It always does—and when it does, may you find deep within you, the grace and trust and courage to echo the words of that young girl, startled by God, the mother of Jesus, who said ‘Here am I, the servant of the Lord.”

Amen.