Was it predictable or unexpected? The angel? The teenage girl at home doing the housework? The meeting?
Predictable, I suppose. The prophets had tried to put it into words, they’d strained their eyes and spirits to see how God might visit his people. Remember, when King Herod heard of the birth of the child there was ready a text to hand to offer to His awful majesty. Obvious really…or was it? ‘Bethlehem in Judea, not least amongst the tribes of Judah, from you will come one whose origins are from of old (I’ve not noticed that bit before) from ancient days.’ – no ordinary child then?
Isaiah had it all sewn up. ‘A virgin will conceive’ he declared, and for all the textual difficulties (for the translation is hard and disputed) the general consensus was that a child would be born who (no pressure) would be called ‘Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the everlasting Father and Prince of Peace’ (we need George Frideric Handel at this point to set the words to music).
Predictable but also ‘unexpected’. That the Christ would come to His people, that he would be born was clearly predicted. The ‘how’ was unexpected. We used to overlook the genealogies that begin Matthew and Luke’s gospels. Schoolboy mistake. For tucked in amongst all those ‘begats and begottens’, alongside the lists of men whose names are buried in the past and in the ancient Old Testament texts, Matthew mentions 4 shamed or vulnerable women who were crucial to the Christ’s family tree. Tamar, forced into prostitution (from the book of Genesis), Ruth (the foreigner who becomes King David’s great grandmother), Uriah the Hittite’s wife (Bathsheba) whom David marries after having Uriah killed and then he adds Mary ‘of whom Jesus was born, the Messiah’. The fourth and last of the women mentioned, what she has in common with the others is vulnerability, shame…and the favour of God.
The angel, the Virgin, the greeting. The divine recognition ‘Blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of your womb’. The fear. The questions and Mary’s response ‘Here am I, the servant of the Lord, let it be for me according to your word’. All these things are unexpected. It’s no wonder that artists and poets have spent centuries trying to penetrate what happened when that angel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth. It’s no wonder that the BVM, the Blessed Virgin Mary, has always been at the heart of a storm of discussion and argument. She asked ‘How can this be?’ – and we have been asking the same question ever since.
We’ve named our church for her. Not the only one of course. Pick a St Mary’s in Teesdale, any St Mary’s. Two on the same road?- genius idea (Not!) She was a popular choice …once. But then she fell out of favour. Too much tat. Too many prayers to her, through her: why not just go straight to the top and speak to her child? Too much blue. Why not give her a crown..or two? ‘Queen of Heaven’ (too much for you perhaps?), ‘Second Eve’? Yet, even at the Reformation, we Anglicans couldn’t let go of her. Her Feasts (bar one) were kept in the Book of Common Prayer. We remember her birth at our Patronal Festival, (8th September), we dedicated our new windows (with her central to them) on 8th December (9 months before) – a feast that marks her conception. August 15th which marks her death (and Roman Catholics would say her Assumption into heaven) has crept back into our lectionaries and, of course, she’s there behind all the Feasts that point to her Son: The annunciation or Lady Day, The Visitation to Elizabeth which we read earlier, The Nativity (of course), the Epiphany, the Presentation. She’s there on Good Friday…and Easter Day. She’s there on Ascension Day and at the Feast of Pentecost. Mary won’t go away, why would she or should she?
Some years back, as we took stock of what we were about as a parish we noticed that there were few things in church here that said we were ‘St Mary’s’ other than the sign outside the door. Off the back of that observation, Sarah, our last curate, (who, by the way was in church yesterday – passing through on her way to visit family in Darlington and Middlesbrough) led a study group that focussed on Mary and where she appears in the scriptures. We enjoyed looking at pictures of her and got excited about icons of her: images that reminded us of her special place in the devotions of our Christian ancestors. We saw how she lived within the story of the providence of God, working out his purposes to bring salvation to His people. She was blessed by Him and called by Him. She is an example to us as we seek to live out our vocation. She was frightened but willing to obey – we know what that is like. She treasures God’s promises in her heart: so can we. She knows she will carry shame for being pregnant out of wedlock: so much of Christian discipleship doesn’t make sense to the ‘world’ and we are all called to take up our cross and follow. She hears Simeon’s words that predict her pain yet stays faithful. She lets her Son go as he redefines the extent of the ‘family of God’: and we are reminded that God’s inclusive family includes many we might find difficult. She loves Him to the end for she is there at the foot of the cross. She cradles His body and helps lay it in the tomb. She hears the resurrection message and prays for God’s Spirit at Pentecost. In all these things she is a model to us as she shares Hid death and resurrection and seeks the infilling of His Spirit. Should we not honour her?
And isn’t it fitting that this church’s dedication should be central to the new porch windows? : that we now have Christ’s story portrayed in glass from his childhood through his death and on to His glorification? There she is. The ‘God – bearer’: a title given her very early on in Christian tradition, presenting the Christ to us. She, offering Him. He, reaching out to embrace us. The Holy Mother within whose womb heaven and earth met.
I stumbled upon this poem yesterday, sent to me by a friend. It’s about the predictably unexpected birth of Christ and how this birthing didn’t just happen back then but continues around us now. I’ll leave it as a final thought: a suggestion that somewhere, near you, this Christmas, the Christ will be born. It’s by Ann Weems and is called Kneeling in Bethlehem
It’s not over, this birthing,
There are always newer skies
Into which God can throw stars.
When we begin to think
That we can predict the Advent of God,
That we can box the Christ
In a stable in Bethlehem,
That’s just the time that God will be born
In a place that we can’t imagine and won’t believe.
Get more updates and engage with the church community on our Facebook page