Born

Fourth Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 7:10-16

Matthew 1:18-25

This little paragraph is a well-worn part of the Christmas story that gets read every year.  Poor Joseph, caught up in God’s strange plans, startled awake by the angel.  Expectant Mary, who will give birth in wonder to a baby who is called a sign from heaven.  And this baby, given a name that means “God saves.”

I want to point out to you this morning that this little paragraph about Jesus’ birth is controversial, unusual, and flattering.

First, let’s talk about why Jesus’ birth is controversial.

 

Matthew’s gospel is the work of a first century follower of Jesus who wants to convey who Jesus is and why he’s important.  One way the gospel does this is by holding up all that Jesus did, and all that happened to him, and seeing it in the light of Israel’s Scripture, what we call the Old Testament.

And so Matthew invites us to see in Jesus’ birth the acting out of a scene that was scripted in Isaiah 7.  Isaiah 7 concerns a sign from God that involves the birth of a child to a young woman who will have the name “Immanuel,” “God with us.” 

This is good news for us, but it is controversial good news.  Because not everyone agrees with Matthew’s way of reading the prophet Isaiah.   The controversy is this: the Hebrew word in Isaiah 7:14 is “almah,” and is a general term for a woman who’s old enough to be married (12 or 13).  But when that Hebrew term was translated into the Greek Bible called the Septuagint, the word “parthenos” was used, which refers specifically to a virgin, a person who has yet to have any sexual relations. 

Because of this, some argue that Matthew was misreading the Bible by emphasizing that Jesus’ birth was to a virgin named Mary.  And so there are debates about whether the story of a baby born to a virgin is true, or simply a deceitful cover up of the fact that Jesus was conceived by Joseph and Mary in the way all children are conceived.

That whole debate is, I think, misguided.  It assumes that Matthew was primarily interested in Mary’s sexual status.  But the more pressing point is Matthew’s claim that Mary was involved in a mysterious process involving the Holy Spirit.  She was “found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit” (v. 18); “what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit” (v. 20).  This is Matthew’s way of saying that God’s arrival in Jesus is a radical, undeserved gift.  God is the One writing this story.  This birth was God’s doing. 

So when we say together in the Apostles’ Creed that Jesus was “conceived by the Holy Ghost and born of the virgin Mary,”  we are saying, “God has done something utterly and radically surprising for me.”

Second, let’s talk about why the story of Jesus’ birth is unusual.

Matthew’s report of Jesus’ birth is unique because no other gospel has a story quite like this.  Only Matthew and Luke include a story about Jesus’ birth.  The earliest gospel – Mark – doesn’t have any account of Jesus’ birth.  And John’s gospel doesn’t either.

So you might think, “Well, at least Matthew and Luke have the birth story, so they’re the same.”   But they’re not.  For example, In Luke’s gospel, the angel Gabriel visits Mary to announce the birth, and in Matthew’s gospel, the angel Gabriel visits Joseph.

All of this means that we ought to pay attention to the way Matthew tells the story.  It is unusual to include a story like this, and we ought to wonder WHY Matthew thought it important to include this birth story in his gospel about Jesus.

Stephanie and I were talking to Tim and Jeanne Randles recently about what TV shows we watch.  And they’re up to date with Downton Abbey and we’re a few seasons behind.  But Tim went ahead and dropped the huge plot twist without giving us a spoiler alert.  So I guess I can take that show off the list!  Then Jeanne mentioned a show she likes.  It’s a show called “Midwives.”  Any of you watch this show?  I asked Jeanne, “So is it literally about midwives delivering babies?”  And she said “Yes.”  I get stressed out by any depiction of a birth scene, so I can guarantee you that I will never watch an episode of Midwives. 

My aversion to birth scenes may be stronger than yours.  But most of us would agree that births are painful, messy, loud and dangerous.  I guess if you want to come into the world, this is how you have to get here.  But it is not exactly an elegant or simple arrival.  Any birth is fraught with possible complications.  And even if everything goes just right, the newborn child arrives as a life utterly fragile, vulnerable, and needy, completely dependent on the care of others for his or her very survival.

And yet this is how God arrives among us.  So it may not surprise you that there were some early Christians who felt this way of entering the world isn’t fitting for the God of the universe.  God wouldn’t be involved in anything so messy or enter into the life of a helpless newborn. 

During the first two or three centuries, there were some people who argued that God wasn’t involved in Jesus’ birth or death.  Instead, the argument went, God “adopted” Jesus at his baptism, empowered his ministry, and then left him just before his death on the cross.  It’s not difficult to imagine what motivated this version of the story.  It keeps God out of the mess of birth and death.

If you want to find out more later via Wikipedia, these people were called “Adoptionists” and this teaching was referred to as “Adoptionism.”  It was eventually categorized as a “heresy,” that is, something out of bounds, something Christians should avoid saying.

That way of telling the story makes it appear that God only shows up for the highlights, and then leaves before the really hard part comes.  God arrives only when the lights come on, and then scurries away before things fall apart.

What we confess is something much more mysterious and life-giving.  We confess with Matthew’s gospel and the creeds of the church that Jesus was not a human adopted by God for a small window of time.  Jesus was himself, in the entirety of his human life, the long-awaited visitation of God to save his people from their sins.

Finally, let’s talk about why Jesus’ birth is flattering.

Yes, I know, this word – flattered – has a kind of 1950’s feel to it.  But bear with me, I think it’s the word we need.  We sometimes say, “I’m flattered.”  And what we mean is, you have spoken well of me.  We feel “flattered” when someone says or does something that shows that they think very highly of us.  We feel “flattered” when someone important wants to spend time with us.

Someone might flatter you by writing you a kind note, or by complementing you in some way, or going to great lengths to spend time with you.  If the other person is important, it might be enough for them simply to notice you, to remember your name.  Flattery – it’s the experience of being unexpectedly treated in a way that elevates your status.

There is nothing more flattering for human creatures like us than the news that God has visited us in a human life.  God freely chose to arrive among us in the life of Jesus of Nazareth, born to Joseph and Mary.  And God arrives not simply by helicoptering in for the good and exciting parts of this human life.  God is with us from the beginning of this life to its end, from birth to death.  Do you realize how deeply flattering that is for you and for me, that our human lives have played host to the fullness of God?

We’ve all probably had that experience when someone shows up to visit our home or apartment and we weren’t expecting them.  We had great intentions of taking care of the dishes stacked in the sink, folding the laundry laying all over the couch, vaccuming the carpet, taking a shower and getting dressed.  But . . . we just hadn’t gotten there yet.  And behold, my friend or neighbor comes to the door.  And I panic, looking around at the mess.  And so we have an apology ready, “Sorry for the mess . . . “ 

We often feel this way about God’s arriving, saving, loving presence in our lives.  We look at our lives and assume that this isn’t really a neat enough place for God to visit.  We ought to clean it up a little, then maybe God could come in.  But right now?  No way.  And at some periods in our lives this feeling of not being able to welcome God is particularly intense. 

So joining the two thousand year old chorus of Christians from all time and places in saying the creed is not some abstract formality that has little to do with your life.  It’s a way of confessing that the life you live is a life that is open to the divine.  Your life is capable of hosting God.  Your life is a perfectly suitable place for God to come and dwell.  God is not afraid of all the changes of development.  God is not afraid of our confusion and despair and fear.  God is not afraid of our faithlessness, not even afraid of the harm we’ve done and the wounds we’ve caused others.  God has freely chosen to live as Immanuel, God with us. 

By coming to us in Jesus, God has flattered us.

Let us remember during this holy season that Jesus is the one who “saves us from our sins.”  God does not see our sins as the most important thing about us.  And God refuses to let our sins close us off from God’s saving presence.  By arriving in Jesus, right in the middle of our very human, very sinful lives, it becomes clear that God will go to any lengths to be with us.  And by inviting us into this new kingdom of love, inviting us to become followers of Jesus, we are free to share with God the work of creating a world of love and forgiveness.