SERMON FOR THE FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT, DECEMBER 20, 2020            TEXT: LUKE 1:26-38

          It is once again the season to read A Christmas Carol or to watch one or another of the film versions of this familiar story. Last year I read a good part of it aloud to Copper. The old Basset Hound was seriously ill just before Christmas, and the sound of my voice reassured him and helped him sleep. This year I didn’t have my audience, but I went back to the Dickens classic and delighted once again in this description of Ebenezer Scrooge, with which the story ends:    “He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for, he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset; and knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in grins, as have the malady in less attractive forms.    His own heart laughed: and that was quite enough for him.”

          Last year for the fourth Sunday in Advent the Gospel was the nativity story from Matthew. We are in a new liturgical year, and this time around the focus is on Mark. However, Mark’s Gospel begins with the appearance of John the Baptist and the baptism of Jesus; it has nothing to say about the Savior’s birth. So today the lectionary turns to Luke instead to fill the gap.

          One could say that Luke tells the story from Mary’s point of view and Matthew from Joseph’s. The fact that both evangelists felt compelled to describe the circumstances of Jesus’ conception suggests that there was something they felt they had to account for. Both parents find their lives turned upside down and, like Scrooge, they face an uncomprehending world. Indeed, nothing happens on this globe for good at which some people do not have their fill of laughter or show symptoms of the malady of mockery in some less attractive form. And here was something happening for good, good beyond all human measure. Soon the angel will be proclaiming, “I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior” (Luke    2:10-11), but the time leading up to that holy night must have been difficult. There likely were people who counted months, did the math and raised their eyebrows in amusement or scorn.

          Right from the start our Savior is immersed in the realities of everyday life — the complications of personal relationships, social expectations and taking risks. An unexpected pregnancy, How many women have been in that situation and have had reasons to fear the consequences?

          The Lutheran Study Bible provides some eye-opening notes on Luke’s text. Regarding the mention of Elizabeth in verse 36, there is this annotation: “”The word translated as ‘relative’ does not indicate the exact relationship between Mary and Elizabeth; it only establishes them as ‘kinswomen.” Elizabeth is clearly older, and Mary is likely a very young woman, perhaps as young as thirteen. Luke is the only Gospel to suggest that the mothers of John and Jesus are related. Luke might be suggesting that Mary is also Aaron’s descendant, which would make Jesus part of a priestly line.” The Gospel for today ends at verse 38, but in verse 39 we read; “In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth.” The annotation on this verse is downright scary: “Luke does not give reasons for Mary’s quick departure. Some texts from around this period suggest that a woman in Mary’s    position might be stoned to death. If Mary is a member of a priestly family, the penalty for an untimely pregnancy would have been even more severe: she would have been burned.” A woman’s ability to bring life into the world is an extraordinary power, and one society mercilessly seeks to control. “Here am I, the servant of the Lord,” Mary responds to the angel’s announcement, “let it be with me according to your word.” She does so at great personal peril.

          Both Mary and Joseph are ordinary people trying to do the right thing when faced with a dilemma they could not have anticipated. They live the words we often pray: “O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us.” Their trust in God makes them bold, generous and committed.

          We too can heed God’s call, take a risk for someone else’s benefit, give of the grace that has been granted us. In matters great and small, by our choices and our actions, day by day and year by year, we bring the life of Christ into the world. Through us the ones who laughed at the likes of Ebenezer Scrooge, the ones who are blind, may yet see the Lord’s great light. “.. . it was always said of [Scrooge], that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge,” Dickens concludes. “May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless Us, Every One!” Amen.