Luke 1:39-55
If you think of life as a series of problems to be fixed you might appreciate the comic strip in which Linus and Charlie Brown are walking along and chatting with one another. Linus says, “I don’t like to face problems head on. I think the best way to solve problems is to avoid them. In fact, this is a distinct philosophy of mine. No problem is so big or so complicated that it can’t be run away from!”
Many of us like to fix problems. You may recognize the conversation when she says: “Dear, there’s something I want to talk about.” He listens for the next 30 seconds and then analyzes the problem and proposes solutions; to which she says: “For heaven sake, stop trying to fix it – just listen to me!”
I like to solve problems. My favorite reading is “whodunits” with spies and detectives and murders. I find real satisfaction in fixing a misbehaving computer, quieting a noise from the front of the car, or adjusting a door latch that isn’t working right.
I apply this same problem-solving attitude to the world, believing we have to work together to solve the ills of society – the “Fiscal Cliff” and national debt, solutions for AIDS and cancer, helping families to function better, or supporting a friend through times of loss, grief, and stress.
In the wake of the tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut last week, President Obama spoke to the grief of the nation first as our President, as a father, and a man of faith. And then he challenged national leaders to step up and fix the problem of this horrible flow of weapons and gun violence into every corner of our society.
Life has problems we can and must fix. But on this fourth Sunday in Advent, I want to ask the question whether a baby can be a problem… specifically that baby in the manger at Bethlehem; that infant Jesus who became known as Messiah, the chosen One of God.
Was Jesus a problem? Let me count the ways:
Jesus was a problem for Mary. Scripture describes her as a young woman. The particular Greek word suggests she was maybe 12 or 13. She had a problem. She’s also described as a lowly woman with no power or position. As she sang in her hymn of praise: “God has looked with favor upon the lowliness of his servant.” The Greek word also means “vileness” or “humiliation.” Mary is not humble – that’s too sweet. She’s dirt poor, pregnant before she’s married, and scorned by decent people, maybe even her parents. Now that’s a problem.
Jesus was a problem for Joseph, too. He was engaged to Mary. Her parents would have bartered with Joseph to assure that they would receive enough dowry from the young man. He wasn’t anything spectacular but he seemed kind enough and he had a trade. When he discovered she was pregnant and knew he wasn’t the father, he resolved to end the engagement quietly without humiliating her any further. That baby was a problem for Joseph, all right.
Jesus was a problem for Herod and all the power-hungry like him. Remember how the mighty king responded to the news that the King of the Jews had been born? He vowed to destroy him by sending soldiers to kill every boy-child under two years old. It’s called the slaughter of the innocents. It still echoes today and reminds us that peacemakers are always a problem for the powerful whether at Bethlehem or the Pentagon.
Jesus is a problem for many in the world today. He makes some feel angry, or ashamed, or sad, particularly if we want him to be a bouncer or gate-keeper. If we didn’t have Jesus to contend with we could guiltlessly judge, label, and dismiss others who don’t fit into our boxes. Once we really meet Jesus he won’t let us.
Yes. Jesus was a problem and is a problem, all right. But remember the old proverb that says: “to the one who only owns a hammer, everything looks like a nail!” If we’re used to seeing life as a bunch of problems to be solved, Jesus is just one more on the list. And that puts us at risk of missing the breath-taking truth that the birth of Jesus is less a problem and much more a mystery.
Princeton theologian Diogenes Allen helps us distinguish the one from the other:
When a problem is solved, it’s over and done with… But a mystery once recognized is something we are never finished with. It is never exhausted. Instead we return to it again and again and it unfolds new levels to us . . . We live in a universe permeated by a divine reality whose hem we touch when we encounter mysteries. Mysteries to be known must be entered into. For we do not solve mysteries; we enter into them. The deeper we enter into them the more illumination we get. Still greater depths are revealed to us the further we go.
Theology for a Troubled Believer: An Introduction to the Christian Faith
Mystery, then, can’t be solved like a problem, but simply lived. Every day we’re surrounded by the mysteries of life and of death, of love and of fear, of joy and sorrow, good and evil; the mystery of the seasons and of the universe itself. The more we dwell in that mystery, the deeper and more powerful it becomes in our lives.
So it is, I think, for the mystery of Christmas and for the mystery of following Jesus.
As we read in Luke today, this baby was just as much a mystery to Mary. Her beautiful song soars with the message that God has finally come in Messiah and will save the people. The Savior of the world breaks into human history. And people paid attention. From the very beginning the Word spread as the story touched the lives and hearts of God’s people.
Messiah was not the royal King the rich and powerful would have expected. Jesus was born among the lowly and the outcast. So Mary sang:
[God’s] mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. {51} He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. {52} He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; {53} he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. {54} He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, {55} according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”
In the fullness of time, coming into human life among the lowly and outcast, the Holy One has said forever that the realm of God will not put up with the suffering and wrong-doing that you and I do.
Getting ready for the coming of Christ may feel like a problem. But let’s try to welcome it simply as a mystery. Tending to Advent and reading the scriptures help us get ready. They’ve said “prepare the way of the Lord. Let every heart prepare him room;” as though the woman says to the man: “will you stop trying to fix it and just listen?!”
I can guarantee it won’t be a peaceful and joyous season for you if you insist on being the stage manager for the Christmas miracle. You’re not in control. God is.
To dwell with mystery means we’re willing to yield to the will and ways of God, just as Mary did.
Leslie Weatherhead, the renowned preacher of the last generation, spent much of his career addressing the thorniest problems of theology and faith. He offered some timeless answers in his sermons and writings. He knew, too, that many of the biggest questions are never really answered but are asked again in every generation.
Weatherhead once remarked that in his own mind he had a desk with a drawer, and in the drawer was a folder labeled “Awaiting Further Light.” If more light comes, so be it. If not, we still must step forward in the light we’ve already received.
I have a lot of things like that… so do you. So life goes on when we’re willing to embrace mystery rather than insisting we’re going to solve every problem. Christmas isn’t a problem or a project for your to manage.
My simple wish to you today is that you’ll let yourself tumble into the mystery of this newborn babe just as a child tumbles into a drift of new fallen snow, or into the ample love of a grandparent.
Immerse yourself in this mystery much as you would in hot, soothing bath after a long day, and let the stresses and strains and problems give way to the gentle wonder of it all.