Sermon prepared for Messiah Lutheran Church, Auburn WA

By Gregory S. Kaurin, pastor

12/21/03

 

Text: Luke 1:26-38

 

Sermon:

A Tale of Two Pregnancies

 

I’ve titled this sermon “A Tale of Two Pregnancies” and, in fact, our Bible lesson tells us about two pregnancies.  Mary’s and Elizabeth’s pregnancies were both mentioned in today’s lesson.

 

Both were miraculous pregnancies: Mary’s because—although she was engaged to Joseph—she was a virgin; Elizabeth’s because after years of wishing, dreaming, and giving up, she and Zechariah finally conceived in their old age.  Each of these pregnancies resulted in very different reactions.  Zechariah and Elizabeth and all their family and friends could rejoice and dance with them.  Mary’s pregnancy had very different reactions.  There was doubt, fear, and disgust.  Even Joseph was ready to drop the engagement, except that the angel stopped him in a dream.

 

And I’ve always thought this was interesting.  Mary was engaged to Joseph, and living in Nazareth.  But immediately, after Gabriel’s visit Mary took off almost 60 miles south to visit Elizabeth until after little John was born.  That was a long walk.  The Bible tells us Mary stayed with Elizabeth and Zechariah some three months.  So imagine this, and including travel time Mary left Joseph, and was gone from Nazareth, at least some three and a half months. 

 

Imagine how the families felt, her family and Joseph’s.  She suddenly left.  And now that she was back in Nazareth, something about her either was already obvious, or would be very soon.  Mary was pregnant, nearly four months.  It all looked very suspicious, and the rumors had to be flying.  Who was the real father?  When did she conceive?  Was it before she took off to Judea, or after?

 

Only months before she said to the angel, “Let it be done to me, all as you have said.”  I have to wonder if she ever regretted those words.

 

Thank God that Joseph put aside his own doubts and anger to reclaim Mary, and chose to adopt the unborn child as his own.  In that moment, and in that society, it may have saved Mary’s life, and would have given her back most of her dignity and place in the family, and dampened the rumors, at least down to a murmur.

 

Thank God, I say, because clearly God had a very heavy hand in all these things.  His will, his desire, for his people, for us and for you, and all the promises of scripture needed to come true. 

 

God usually works through the very normal happenings in the world, but every once in a while, his will and power does something more obvious, a reminder—not just that he is there—but that things finally will end the way he wants them to.

 

Miraculous conceptions and births: the Bible has a number of them: Sarah gave birth to Isaac, Hannah gave birth to Samuel, Menoah’s wife gave birth to Samson.  These are all births given to barren parents.  And there is a hint of one immaculate conception in the Old Testament, to an un-named girl just before the Babylonian exile came to an end. 

 

I recently realized (actually someone pointed out for me) that there are these several stories of miracle births and the joy of the parents, and they are inspiring, warm and lovely for most people most of the time, but there is not a single story of a couple who stay barren.  Intellectually, that makes sense to me.  Why would the Bible mention them?  But emotionally, I have real and personal empathy for couples who pray just as earnestly and bodily for a child, and sitting before them, like a carrot just out of reach of the mule, are all these stories in the Bible, about couples who have their prayers answered with a child. 

 

And suddenly it seems like the Bible joins the well-meaning, but painful, chorus of society that frequently defines life and real value in the ability to give birth.  I sometimes wish we had clear example in the Bible of a prayer for a child that went unanswered.  Just for an example, and an added hope that unanswered prayers like this will get answered… in some other way.

 

But then, I step back and remember King David, and his first child with Bathsheba.  I know that the child was the result of adultery and selfish passions, and that, because of the pregnancy and his desire, David designed the death of Bathsheba’s husband, Uriah.  These are all horrible, vicious sins: selfish lust, murder.  But still, the child was innocent of those sins.  The baby became sick, and David prayed night and day for the life of his baby boy.  But the child died. 

 

And then, there was Jesus, in the Garden, praying and crying so hard that his tear glands seeped blood, asking his Father, “Please, if at all possible, let this cup pass.”  But the cup didn’t pass.  He was crucified and put to death that very weekend. 

 

Not even Jesus, God’s own will and desire in the flesh, received a “yes” for every prayer.  That says something really deep and powerful for all of us.  Not even Jesus, God’s will and desire in the flesh, received a “yes” for every prayer. 

 

And this is what carries us to the heart of Mary and her pregnancy.  I titled this sermon “A Tale of Two Pregnancies” and you might have reasonably assumed up to this point that I was referring to the pregnancies of Mary and Elizabeth in our gospel lesson.  Actually, I mean something much more than that.  It’s a tale of two kinds of pregnancies: literal and spiritual.

 

There are the miraculous, but literal, pregnancies of Mary and Elizabeth, and all the other literal pregnancies of scripture.  But second, there is a bigger pregnancy that these stories point to, a pregnancy that includes all of us, and does, in fact answer our prayers, more than we can see or realize. 

 

More than half of our society in all of the world and history, more than half the people who ever live, never experience literal pregnancy.  When you include those who are unable, or for their own reason or nature’s decision, many women and men never have children.  And men.  Try all the gadgets and padded suits you want, for men, being pregnant is always a sideline experience.  At least so far.  (And God willing, forever!) 

 

There was Mary’s pregnancy, miraculous, but literal, real, and hers, a special gift.  But her pregnancy is also ours.  Her pregnancy was given to us.  To adoptive fathers and families, to shepherds, gentile astrologers, foreigners, to an old priest and priestess in the Temple.  To us, to you and me.  Mary was pregnant, literally.  But so are we, spiritually, and just as real.

 

Mary became pregnant the Bible tells us by the power of God’s Holy Spirit.  As a result, God’s will was born in the flesh of Jesus with purpose to do God’s work, through his words and actions.  The Holy Spirit is within and among us, too.  And in different but just as physical ways, in actions and words, we are to give birth again and again to God’s will.  Christ’s spirit and Christ’s body in us and through us.

 

We are pregnant with God’s will and desire for us.  We need to pray just as Mary did, “Lord, let it be done, work through me, work through us, as you have commanded and promised.”  That takes trust, it takes trust to believe that something I might want so much right now, may not be as important as God’s higher will and destiny for me.  It takes trust, patience and practice.

 

Mary’s pregnancy, Elizabeth’s, and all the others in the Bible, these are not an ideals, they are not a goals for girls, women or couples.  These stories, and most especially Mary’s pregnancy, are gifts and assurances to all of us.  In telling them, they make us pregnant with the love and word of God.  We need, now, not just to sit here in our pregnancy, but to give birth, and happily, it’s usually a whole lot less painful.  We give birth by sharing our love in physical words and actions.  We each need to grow in our faith, but also to grow by adding members to our family, inviting and welcoming others to see experience and share more than our morals and demands, but to share the excitement, the sense of value that comes from belonging to the Body of Christ. 

 

All because Mary got pregnant.  Now we are, too.  Amen.