Who Do You Talk to When You've Seen an Angel? (December 22, 2024)
Micah 5:2-5a; Luke 1:46b-55; Hebrews 10:5-10; Luke 1:26-45
Mary said to the angel, “How can this be?” The angel said to Mary, “Nothing is impossible with God.” And Elizabeth said to Mary, “Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was said to her by the Lord.”
Have you ever encountered an angel? A surprising number of people will say “yes” to that question. When people have told me their stories of meeting an angel, they often describe a moment of sudden crisis – an accident, some kind of an emergency or danger. At the key moment, someone – a stranger – touches them, says a quick word, causes them to move out of harm’s way just in the nick of time. And then, when they turn around, that person – whoever it was – is gone. Nowhere to be seen. It’s a surprisingly common experience.
Who was that stranger? The people who relate these experiences are usually convinced that it was someone sent by God to save them from catastrophe – an angel, which simply means a messenger from God, whatever that might mean. But in the moment, the angel just seemed like a friendly stranger – it is only later, after the moment of danger has passed, that it becomes evident to these witnesses that something extraordinary occurred.
I don’t know what Mary’s experience of a visit from an angel was like. I tend to doubt that the angel appeared hovering in the air with wings aflutter – angels are rarely so obvious. Even if Mary found it easy to recognize her visitor as a messenger from God, the message itself was difficult for her to comprehend. And when Mary had given her consent, “the angel departed from her,” but the story was just beginning.
The gospel text does not tell us who, if anyone, Mary told about her experience with the angel, or how much she shared with them. I imagine it would not have been easy.
For example, when did she tell her fiancé Joseph, and what did she tell him? “Good news, I’m going to have a baby, and it’s not yours. But don’t worry, it’s OK.” The gospel text we are reading from today, Luke’s gospel, doesn’t tell us much of anything about Joseph’s role, but in Matthew’s gospel, it is written that when Mary was “found” to be with child, Joseph had decided to divorce her until he had his own encounter with an angel in his sleep. Had Mary even told him about her angel? Did he believe her? Not on her word alone, it would seem.
Would she have told her parents? That also could have been quite dangerous, if they didn’t believe her story – in that part of the world, especially in ancient times, a daughter who had a baby before marriage was usually thought to have brought shame and dishonor on the whole family. After all, the penalty for adultery in the Law of Moses was stoning. And her parents didn’t have the benefit of seeing an angel themselves – they’d have to take Mary’s word for it. Would they? Could she be sure?
I want to pause for a moment on how absolutely frightening it must have been for Mary to process her extraordinary experience with the angel. She could not be sure that the people closest to her would believe her – and the consequences of their not believing her would have been disastrous. And she must have wondered, even if they did believe her, would it change her relationships with her parents, her siblings, her friends, her fiancé – how would they think of her, chosen by God for a unique role and a unique experience? Mary was still very young, and – as she herself told the angel – quite inexperienced in such things. Who could she even talk to?
The first person Mary thought of, it seems, is her Aunt Elizabeth. Aunt Elizabeth didn’t have any children of her own, although the angel had said perhaps she was going through a socially awkward pregnancy herself at the moment. Perhaps she would understand. Perhaps she could help Mary figure out what all this means, what she should do next. And so, we read, that Mary immediately set out – in haste – to visit the wisest, most faithful person she knew, good old Aunt Elizabeth.
And when Mary arrives, she doesn’t need to say anything more than “hello” – at once, Elizabeth understands everything. Supports Mary unconditionally. Praises her faith, her willingness to trust God’s incomprehensible plan for her and for all of us. And with Elizabeth’s blessing, Mary finds her voice, and sings her song in praise of the God who chooses the humble to shame the proud, the God who comes to the broken and the hungry with justice and all good things, the God who reverses human judgments and remembers the promise of mercy and grace. She does not sing her song when the angel departs from her. She sings only when Elizabeth, filled with the same Holy Spirit that overshadows Mary, greets Mary with hospitality and warmth and acceptance.
Have you ever had news that you were afraid to share with the people closest to you? Something that happened to you or a decision that you made, something that you have come to believe is good news, but that you’re not sure other people are going to take it as good news?
For me, the most obvious such experience is coming out as gay. After a long time of confusion at how things weren’t coming along the way they were supposed to be, slowly coming to a conclusion about what was happening and figuring out, whether I wanted it to be this way or not, that this is my way to find companionship and partnership and peace. But can I share this news with the people who are most important to me – what will this news do to these relationships that are so central to my life? Some people will hear the news and be happy for me – and many were – and other people will find it terribly disappointing, or worse. It’s a lot for a young person to process, and having a wise Aunt Elizabeth in your life – having someone you can turn to and be confident that they’re going to handle it well – is incredibly important.
But really, anybody who has had to share news about a major life decision – about school or career, about marriage or divorce, about a diagnosis or a plan of treatment – I think all of us can, in one way or another, relate to the fear that Mary must have felt about sharing her news with the people closest to her. We can relate to the urgency with which she went, in haste, to see Aunt Elizabeth. And the relief she must have felt at the warmth of the reception she received.
I hope that, in those times when you have had surprising news to share, that you have had an Aunt Elizabeth in your life. Someone you knew would be safe, and who in fact did give you the space and the support and the love you needed to process your own experience and find your own voice. I hope that you can lift up your own Aunt Elizabeth in prayer this morning, with gratitude for what she was able to give to you. And if your own Aunt Elizabeth is still among us, I’m sure a word of appreciation and thanks during the Christmas season would be received with gratitude as well.
And I also hope that you have had the occasion to be an Aunt Elizabeth to someone else in your life. To be the person led by the Holy Spirit to pay attention to someone’s doubt and confusion, to make them feel seen and heard and understood, to give them the unconditional love and support they need to find their own voice and live out their authentic calling from God, whatever it happens to be. It is a great blessing and joy to be that person for someone else, and I hope that you have that opportunity as Elizabeth did.
And I’ll just say that, if there are any creative filmmakers or novelists among us, I’d love to hear the origin story of the relationship of Mary and Elizabeth. What was it about Elizabeth, what was it that Mary saw Elizabeth say or do long before any angel ever appeared to anyone, that made Mary so confident that Elizabeth was the just the right person to turn to in her time of need? What are the things that we can do, as individuals and as a congregation, that would make people think of us when they need an Elizabeth to help them make sense of their story?
That’s part of what it means to be church together. Because we are all Mary, and we are all Elizabeth. We are all called to bear the presence of Christ, we are all called to bring Christ to birth in the world. That calling is our duty and our privilege, our joy. The calling is given to us, as it was to Mary, because God has found us to be full of the grace that God has already bestowed on us. And yet that calling can be disruptive, disorienting, disturbing, and so like Mary we need loving, nurturing, discerning, Spirit-filled Elizabeths to help us understand the scope of what we’ve been called to do, and to give us the support and the space to come to understand our call, as Mary did, as a testimony to the astonishing grace of God.