Sermon - The Rev. Dr. Elise Feyerherm, December 24th, 2023 (Advent 7)
“Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” Gabriel’s words suggest to us that Mary may have been more than just perplexed at this unexpected message from God’s emissary. They are a reminder that even in biblical times people did not assume that the Most High would be conversing with them, that we modern folk are not the only ones to greet supernatural encounters with shock and skepticism. “Do not be afraid, Mary.” Gabriel would not have had to say this if there were not some reasonable cause to be nervous.
It is rarely, if ever, comforting to be told “don’t be afraid” in a scary situation. Don’t be afraid, there’s only one more step…and the bottom of the cliff is only five hundred feet down…Don’t be afraid, it’s only your whole career that depends on this project. And being told not to be afraid might sound reasonable, but it doesn’t ease the sick feeling in your stomach as you peer into an uncertain future.
In our individual lives, and in our life together as Church in this place, it may be said that we have many reasons to be afraid, especially when it seems like God is asking us to take on impossible tasks. The Church writ large is said to be declining, even if our own community is thriving. As an ordained leader in the Church, my fear is that I am not up to the task of reinvigorating our proclamation of the Good News, that I will only contribute to its demise because I don’t know how to fix things. It is hard to trust our own experience of love and energy in this place; we are afraid that it won’t last, that it’s just a blip on the screen.
I imagine Mary felt the same fear – what if I cannot carry this baby to term? What if the Romans come for him? What if it’s not enough to bring the Son of God into the world, when empire is so powerful and so insidious? What if I can’t meet God’s expectations? What if…what if?
It is natural to come to challenging situations with all sorts of expectations. We are taught that progress only comes by setting goals, benchmarks, meeting expectations of what a successful person or organization looks like. We have expectations for our children, our employees, our co-workers, ourselves, our clergy, our diocese, our Church. When those expectations are not met, we are disappointed, hurt, even angry. And perhaps we are afraid as well, because what comes next is not how we imagined it. We are afraid that everything will fall apart.
In many ways, having expectations is necessary, especially when it has to do with keeping people safe. But I wonder if having expectations is always helpful. A friend noticed recently the fact that we use the word “expecting” to speak of someone who is pregnant. She was voicing her fear of not meeting people’s expectations, and wondering about the connection between these two things. Expecting, and having expectations – are they the same thing?
I think perhaps they are not the same. When we have expectations – of a situation, a community, a person, ourselves – we hold in our minds an understanding of how things are supposed to turn out. This particular thing will happen, this person will accomplish X, Y, and Z, this church will do exactly what we have in mind it should do. Those expectations are about us – what we want, what we are afraid of, what we believe a community should look like. Generated as they are in our own experience and preferences, they may or may not match those of whom we have these expectations. And they may not match what God has in store for us.
Having expectations can move a person or community forward, but it can also rob us of joy. Those expectations can make us continually dissatisfied, anxious, and judgmental of those who do not meet our expectations. And one thing is clear: the world will never live completely up to our expectations.
Was the sermon up to my expectations? Was the Christmas Eve service as compelling and magical as everyone expected it to be? Is this community getting on board with what I think it should? Are the clergy sufficiently attentive to what I think should be happening here? Is the children’s program growing as I think it should? Are other community members as enlightened, or as committed, or as generous as I think they should be? We all have these expectations – but what, if anything, do they have to do with what God is doing among us?
The angel Gabriel’s announcement to Mary no doubt gave rise to expectations in her, and in those around her. I suspect, however, that she would have had to let go of those expectations pretty quickly. What we honor in Mary is not that she had high expectations of herself, of God, but her willingness to lay those expectations aside so that she could simply be expectant, whatever came her way. To expect, rather than to have expectations. She could not control what happened with this baby that was being conceived within her; it was not her expectations that would bring this Incarnation to term. Rather, it was that Mary expected – looked for – the enduring faithfulness of God, not specific outcomes of her own imagining.
“How shall this be?” she asks. The how is not Mary’s to orchestrate; it is completely up to God. So it is with us in this place, in our time. There is so much that is unknown, and unknowable, in our future. Our expectations do not, and cannot, mitigate any of the fear that comes with such uncertainty. The only thing that can meet the fear head on and dispel it is being an expectant community – like an expectant parent. Casting away expectations like the mighty being cast down from their thrones, and making room for the lowly to be lifted up. Our conceit is that we think we know how things should go, and our pride has to be utterly scattered so that God can come to birth in ways we never imagined.
Do not be afraid, dear Church – God is with you. You will continue to conceive the incarnate God within you, and God will bring it to birth. Our expectant and hopeful answer, as in all things, shall be: Here we are, the servants of the Lord; let it be with us according to your word.