Fourth Sunday in Advent
Deuteronomy 18:15-19; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 1:39-56
In the name of the Father and of the ☩ Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
There are three miracles of the incarnation for us to consider this morning. All three are evident in our text. So we’ll look at each of those three miracles and then consider what they do in the life of St. Mary.
The first miracle will probably seem quite obvious to you. It should be obvious, but it is simply this: God takes human flesh and blood. When Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit, she calls Mary the mother of her Lord. God is now Man. We say it so often that it isn’t all that shocking to us anymore, but it should be. When Jesus takes flesh, the Creator becomes part of His creation. A King wouldn’t even do this; deign to live as a slave in his kingdom for a day, and yet the Son of God is now also Man. Not just for a time. Jesus is now forever Human as well as Divine. That alone should give us pause, but even more outrageous is that He becomes Man in order to die at the hands of sinful men, to take the place of all men at the cross.
This is the point of the incarnation. The Messiah needs to have human flesh so that He might have that flesh nailed to the cross. He needs to have blood in His veins, so that His blood might be spilled. This is why He comes. It’s the realization of God’s ancient promise to Eve that her Seed would crush the head of the serpent. It’s the fulfillment of every Old Testament sacrifice. He comes to take your place in death, to suffer what you deserve. We could spend forever contemplating the mystery of the Word made flesh and never exhaust the wonder of it all. But that is the first miracle.
The second miracle of the incarnation is that Jesus would be born of a Virgin. He didn’t choose to come as an adult. Your Lord was conceived in a womb like you were. He took your place right from the very beginning. He knows what it’s like to live as a fetus and an infant. He’s lived as a toddler and a child, a teenager and an adult. He steps into your shoes. He lives your life, knows what you suffer, bears everything you endure in this world.
But even more astounding is that when Christ takes up residence in the womb of a virgin, it’s not just any virgin. It’s Mary of all women. It’s a poor, lowly handmaiden of humble estate. There’s nothing worthy in her at all. When she visits Elizabeth and launches into her Magnificat, Mary doesn’t praise anything good in herself. She doesn’t say that for generations, men will call her “blessed,” because they’ll honor her virtues, or exalt her humility, or sing about all the great things she has done. But for only one reason will men call her “blessed,” simply that God has regarded her. “He has regarded the humble estate of his servant” (Luke 1:48). That is, He has looked upon her in grace. That’s what it means that He regarded her.
Mary is most blessed among women because the Blessed One dwells in her womb. The Word made flesh has taken up residence within Mary. She is the greater burning bush that’s not consumed by the glory of her Lord. Her womb is the greater ark of the covenant where atonement will be made. The One who will destroy death, and bestow life, and forgive sin, and bring redemption even to Mary, is inside this lowly Virgin. There’s no reason that the Lord should choose her. But this is the great wonder of it all, that your Christ takes the lowest place. He comes in the most unlikely of ways, for the most unlikely of people, for you and me.
Well, those are the first two miracles of the incarnation, and they’re astounding. It’s shocking that God would take human flesh at all. It’s beyond all reason that He would choose a Virgin to give birth. And at this point, we think, what could possibly be a greater miracle than those first two? But there is one. The most astounding miracle of our text, the miracle that is far greater than those first two, the one that should take our breath away, is that when Mary heard this promise from the angel that she would conceive, she simply believed it. She believed.
Mary, who had no esteem in this world, Mary who had no great reputation, no honor, no wealth, lowly Mary, who deserved nothing whatsoever, that Mary did not push the angel away and say, “You should find someone else. You should find someone more worthy. Someone who deserves this honor.” She doesn’t do that. I think most of us would. Even Moses protested his calling because he didn’t speak well enough. Jeremiah said he was too young. Isaiah was too sinful. Sarah, too old. Mary is more lowly than all of them, and yet she believed that what the Lord said to her was true.
“Let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38), she said. The Word was enough. She trusted it, no matter how impossible it seemed. No matter how unbelievable. The Lord said it, and that was enough. And did you notice, that is exactly what Elizabeth praises in Mary. She says, “Blessed is she who,” what? Who deserves this great honor? Blessed is she who earned God’s favor? No. “Blessed is she who believed there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord” (Luke 1:45). God granted her faith, and that faith is what held tight to the promise of the Word, no matter how unbelievable it seemed.
The Lord has made promises to you that are just as unbelievable. Who would believe that in simple font water combined with God’s Word, you are not devoting yourself to Jesus, but He’s devoting Himself to you, calling you from death to life, washing you clean in a way that daily renews and strengthens your faith? And yet, God assures you that Baptism does this. It’s His work, not yours.
Or who would believe that by the simple words of God’s ordained servants, your sins are removed, that those words of absolution unlock the very gates of heaven before you, so that not one of your sins remains? But that’s what Jesus promised.
And no one would ever make sense of the Eucharist. But Jesus guarantees that bread and wine are His true Body and Blood, that you eat and drink, and by it you take Jesus Himself into you. Christ dwells in you here just as much as He dwelt in the Virgin’s womb. Except, by this, He overwhelms you with forgiveness, life, and salvation. These promises are impossible, and yet, like Mary, you believe. And, Elizabeth says, “blessed are you.”
Well, those are the three miracles, but we shouldn’t end there. We miss something if we don’t also notice what those miracles do in the life of St. Mary. It’s worth pointing out that the reading begins with Mary going to see Elizabeth “with haste,” it says. She’s planning on staying with her cousin for three months until Elizabeth gives birth, but Mary hurries to get there. She hears the Word of God, believes it, and then makes haste, not just to travel, but to go serve her cousin. Mary doesn’t leave home to go study at the seminary and become a deaconess. She doesn’t take vows to become a nun. She doesn’t even travel on some mission trip to feed the poor and rescue orphans. No. Upon hearing God’s Word, she simply pours herself back into her vocation, serving her relative who is aged and needs help. We don’t even know if Mary wanted to take care of her elderly cousin. You and I usually only serve one another when we want to, but it doesn’t matter whether she enjoyed serving or not. Mary’s faith drives her to serve in her normal, lowly, God-given vocations.
So, consider where God has placed you. You don’t have to travel across the world on a mission trip to serve God. You have a spouse, parents, children, relatives, friends. You have people in this very congregation who need you. The youth need you. We dare not treat them as lesser in Christ’s Church. God has put all these people in your life to serve. And the miracle of the incarnation, the good news that it’s all for you, drives us to give of ourselves, to care for each other, to bear one another’s burdens. That’s what we see in St. Mary. She makes haste to serve, and then she does it with a great amount of joy.
That’s what is so compelling about this text. You have to notice it. Elizabeth and Mary should be shocked that they’re pregnant. Elizabeth is in her old age, and she’s bearing the forerunner promised by the prophets. Mary is a virgin who bears the very Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. All of that is incredible. We marvel at it all. But not these two women. Do you see that? None of this is shocking to Mary and Elizabeth. They’re not surprised that God is amazing, or that God is doing these amazing things. It doesn’t phase them. What is shocking is that these amazing things are happening to them. It’s not remarkable to Mary that “He who is mighty has done great things,” but that “He who is mighty has done great things for me” (Luke 1:49). You see? That’s what shocks her. That God is doing this for her. That the Christ is for her.
In a moment, you will take up that same Magnificat. You’ll sing these same words, because they’re not just Mary’s. The Lord has regarded your humble estate. He has had mercy on you, exalted you, and it is He who feeds you with good things, His Body and Blood, so that you can serve one another with the absolute joy and wonder that the miracle of Christ taking flesh is for you.
In ☩ Jesus’ name. Amen.
The peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Amen.