In every generation if we are to apprehend the abiding forces that will dominate and direct the future, then we must believe in the minute, the diminutive, and the inconspicuous, as is seen in such New Testament words as "mustard seed" and "leaven." The most remembered events turn out to be not the vociferous and noisy affairs that split the eardrums of their contemporaries, but rather the embryonic, the secretive, and often the imperceptible. When the masses of West Germans danced on the Berlin Wall and thousands of East Germans passed through it, little did the world know that this was a result of a prayer service that had been held in Nikolai Church in downtown Leipzig. Eventually, this quiet, imperceptible group of people gathering for what the world considered a harmless time for prayer spilled out into the streets, forcing the opening of the Berlin Wall.
All Saving Ideas Are Born Small
Yes, all saving ideas are born small, often obscure and at times unnoticed. Like the birth of two babies, one among the bulrushes in Egypt and another in the stable-cave in Bethlehem. The manner that God has chosen to come into life always appears to be rather low key. God shuns the spectacular and uses the ordinary.
The Advent is no exception. What is more casual than the birth of a child? The babe in Bethlehem always appears to be less than he really is. Like a child born in poverty and obscurity. Like a young man growing up and being unnoticed for years while living with a carpenter's family in Nazareth. Like a prisoner refusing to answer the false accusations of a judge. Like a man riding on the back of a donkey, whose coming was so common and so ordinary that the masses overlooked him. How odd of God to be so casual and so down-to-earth.
God seldom acts in a manner we expect. God works through people and events that seem strange and unrelated to us, especially at Advent. It may appear odd to us that God would use the ordinary and the common, but if you know your Bible this would not surprise you. This is how God has always done it. Our problem is that we have seen too many Cecil B. de Mille's films with all the thunder and lighting and we have failed to read the text. Look closely at what is taking place in this birth narrative in the New Testament. Look at the locations, the time, and especially the people involved. Let me share with you a few observations.
God Chooses The Unexpected
How odd of God that God would reveal such an awesome message to such ordinary people. This message was not given to Herod in his palace in Jerusalem, nor to Caesar Augustus on his mighty throne in Rome, nor to the priests, rabbis, scribes or scholars, but to the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night. How odd that God would first declare that message to shepherds. There must have been some mix-up, some mistake. You would have thought this message would have first hit the UP wires along with the great dailies in Rome, Athens, Corinth, Alexandria, and Jerusalem. What went wrong with Gabriel's public relations? The great and important people in the world centers of power and politics did not receive advance notice. They never got the word. How odd of God! Is this any way to bring the Son of God into the world? Is this any way to treat the birth of a king? But when you come right down to it, with everything we have come to know about Jesus' life, this appears to be the right place, at the right time, among the right people.
Who were these shepherds anyway? Let me tell you who they were. They were the migrant farm laborers of first century Palestine. They moved from one location to another seeking adequate grazing lands for their sheep. It was to these simple men of the field that God's message of the birth of Jesus first came to the earth. The highest announcement came to the lowest people.
Mary -- Inconspicuous And Unexpected
How odd that God should choose Mary. As we come to think about the unexpected, the lowly and the inconspicuous person being the vessel of hope and change, certainly Mary comes to mind. There are things about Mary that really catch our attention. Hans Kung, the Roman Catholic theologian, reminds us that there are two features of Mary's image that are solidly rooted in the scriptures. First, she is human, a wife and a mother with all the earthiness that this may entail. Second, she is an example, a model of the Christian faith. Her faith felt both the sword of scandal, dissension, and contradiction. Notice the words of the text, "Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you." But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. -- Luke 1:28-29
After Jesus' birth in Bethlehem Mary returned to Nazareth. These were long, hard years of survival in the back hill country of Judea. Mary's baby would grow into manhood in Nazareth and face a life of unending danger. He was loved by the common folks and despised by the political rulers. The religious leaders thought him a heretic and excommunicated him, and his nation thought him a traitor and crucified him. This was something that Mary could not quite figure out or understand.
Mary must have thought, "Is this what it means to be favored by God?" What a change from the starlit night in Bethlehem to the foot of the cross -- from ecstasy to agony. Mary had discovered what many Christians have come to know, that to be called of God is to suffer with God. I wonder what Mary wanted her boy to be? A carpenter like his father, possibly. A rabbi? Maybe. Who knows? One thing is certain, she was not prepared for what he became. There are many things in this birth narrative that seem strange, even odd to us, coming from our world of power politics and mega-institutions. But this is the manner that God has consistently chosen to come into the midst of life. A girl who is barely a teenager, of humble background, reared in the hill country of Judea, is chosen to be "the handmaiden of the Lord." I wonder if we can grasp the significance of this event. Mary was a woman, poor and young. The status of a woman in the first century was nothing. Yet, she was chosen to become the mother of God.
The Ordinary Became Extraordinary
Things appear odd to us because God does not follow our expectations. Instead of coming in the usual places, such as our homes and our churches, God may appear this Christmas on the streets of some city in Eastern Europe, or on a college campus, or in the scientist's lab. Before you decide that is nonsense, consider that it is not any more nonsensical than his birth in the first century in a stable cave.
We expect Jesus to come in the familiar, especially in the familiar carols. For some he may come that way, yet for others he may come in sounds so primitive it may not even resemble music. Or he may come in a place that we would consider unworthy of his coming. We expect him to come in the familiar language of the Bible, especially the language of our favorite translation. But it could be that he may come in some new language that is so vernacular that it may appear offensive. I would remind you that Jerome's translation of the scriptures in the fourth century from the Greek to the Latin was called the Vulgate, for that very same reason: people thought it to be a vulgar language. It was hard for them to accept anything as sacred and mysterious as Holy Writ to be so common and ordinary in its language.
The fact remains, God never acts in the manner we expect. God works through people and events that appear strange and unrelated to us. "God works in mysterious ways his wonders to perform." Who would have ever thought that the kingdom of peace would come through a child born to such humble parents? If God can use these humble vessels for God's eternal purpose, think what God can do with you. God uses the most ordinary people for the most extraordinary tasks.
Nobody Becomes Somebody
Several years ago I visited a man in a nursing home. Life was difficult for him and he constantly complained because he had no visitors and felt lonely and neglected. He seemed to have every right to complain as he did, considering the circumstances under which he lived. I went to see him just before Christmas. There were Christmas cards on his wall and a poinsettia plant on the table and he told me that the night before carolers from a local church came by and sang Christmas carols for him. I asked him how he was doing and he said, "At Christmas time I am somebody."
A nobody is a somebody at Christmas. All of the things that surround the birth of Jesus are for you -- hope, joy, peace, and love. In your ordinariness, right where you are, God comes to you. At Christmas time you are somebody."