Sermon:
Micah 5:2-51, Luke 1:26-2:5
Well, I'm not one to gossip either, so there's not much I can say after all that, except three cheers for Mary! That's probably not something you hear too often in our sort of church; yet her courage as a teenager in saying yes to God's child: when childbirth in those days was in itself a hazardous situation, when the penalty for adultery was theoretically stoning to death, and when the complex and painful consequences of her consent would not become clear for many years to come - isn't it praiseworthy? But what exactly do I mean by ‘God's child'?
You may have noticed recently that in our Communion services we have varied the statement of faith used after the sermon and before Communion between the Apostles' Creed, a traditional statement dating from the 6th century AD or earlier, and a modern statement from one of our sister churches in the States, the United Church of Christ. Creed comes from the Latin word Credo, I believe. And one of the major difficulties for some members of our church in saying
‘I believe' to the Apostles' Creed is the line where Mary is mentioned. Remember what we were all invited to say together last week?
‘I believe in Jesus Christ, God's only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary.' When the Creed goes on to say that Jesus suffered under Pontius Pilate, that is a statement of historical fact on which everyone can agree. But not all of us can say with integrity that we believe Jesus to have had no human father.
What are the alternatives? Some offer an old explanation that has often been true for young couples in love; that being engaged, Joseph and Mary felt under no compulsion to wait until they were married, so that their child turned up before the wedding day at a rather inconvenient time. Others suggest, more darkly, that Mary's pregnancy may not originally have been chosen, but forced on her; in an occupied country, it is no surprise when soldiers decide to violate women who can do nothing against this abuse of official power. In either case, however, why would the Bible not record such a humanly understandable event as having taken place? It might put Jesus in a bad light with potential followers, yet in the Gospels there are stories both about his learning - remember the Syro-Phoenician woman? - and about the first church leaders, which do nothing for their public image. And given Jesus' welcome to those whom others despised, would not the Gospel writers who wrote of good news to the poor have disclosed everything about the humble origins of their leader? Well, it depends what they wanted to achieve in their writings. John takes Jesus' origins right back to the beginnings of the universe, but is uninterested in his early life on earth. And while Matthew tells of a virgin being with child by the Holy Spirit - and finds a Greek mistranslation of the word for ‘young woman' in the Hebrew Bible to prove his point - it is left to Luke, as we have heard this morning, to speak of Gabriel's message; Luke, writing for an audience of Gentile Christians who would already know many stories about Greek heroes, sons of the gods and of mortal women. To them a virgin birth would be nothing less than they expected for Jesus.
We know much more about biology. From the scientific point of view the idea of a woman spontaneously producing a male child seems impossible. But when we are dealing with God, surely all bets as to possibility must be off?
I can't give a knock-down answer. Yet, as you have often heard me ask at this point, so what? Does it matter to us whether or not Mary was a virgin mother, and if so, why? Mark, the first Gospeller, says nothing about Jesus' birth - so we can still be good Christians without agreeing! But why is it such an issue? For centuries people held, and Catholics still do, that Jesus' sinless nature came through his mother, made perfect by God for this unique role by her own immaculate or sin-free conception. But if we have no ideological stake in Mary as a perfect receptacle for Christ she is a far more hopeful role model for all of us, women and men. For that means God is to be found not only in holiness, remote from ordinary life, but even in unplanned and maybe even unwanted encounters. We must go on waiting for a few days yet for the outcome of Mary's labour. In the meantime, on this Gaudete Sunday, let us, with the choir, rejoice always in God who comes to us through all life's circumstances.