Christmas for a Lifetime
It was warm. Perspiration beaded on Mary’s forehead as she swept and cleaned her parents’ humble, stone home. Mother had gone down into the village well to fill the water jars, leaving her to finish the light chores. Suddenly, behind her, a light appeared. It cast her own shadow against the opposite wall and made her look around with a start. There stood a strikingly handsome man in a bright white tunic. His age was difficult to guess because he appeared completely mature, yet not old in any way. His features were even, with thick black hair pulled back under a gold band which fit tightly around his forehead. He stood about six feet tall and had a pleasing, powerful presence, broad shoulders, strong, clean hands. His dark beard was trimmed in the fashion of the day and his eyes were clear and bright. He could easily have been a nobleman, she thought, but there was something else about him ... what was it ...? It was a slight, but very real physical glow! He had a light on him, or in him, or somehow emanating from him, but it was fading now and she thought perhaps she had imagined it. She began to back away instinctively. The adrenaline coursing through her made her shake slightly.
“Greetings, graced one,” his voice was soft and strong. “The Lord is with you.” A smile stretched across his face as he let his words sink into her thoughts.
But the girl’s thoughts weren’t absorbing much of anything at the moment. She bumped into the table behind her, reaching around to steady herself, never taking her eyes off the man. Her thoughts seized up as she tried to force them to comprehend. Who was he and what did he mean addressing her as graced one? And how was the Lord with her? What was happening?
The man didn’t move. He seemed concerned not to startle her further. He spoke slowly and kindly, as one would to a frightened child, which was precisely the case since she had only entered her teen years two years previously.
“Don’t be afraid, Mary,” he said. “You have been given a special grace from God. Listen carefully. You are going to conceive a child in your womb. It will be a boy and when he is born, you will name him Jesus. He will be wonderful and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever. His kingdom will have no end.”
Mary’s mouth felt like cotton. She tried to speak, but only a squeak came out. She cleared her throat, swallowed, and tried again.
“How can this be?” she asked in a small voice. “I’m not married and I have never known a man intimately.” As she spoke she thought it odd to be so matter-of-fact about this bit of very personal information. But somehow it wasn’t odd at all talking to this man. It felt completely natural to question him in this way, to reveal things about herself that only she and her parents knew.
“The Holy Spirit of God will do this miraculously, Mary,” he said. “That is why the Child will be called the Son of God. And your aunt Elizabeth, who is too old to have children as you know, has also conceived a son. She is in her sixth month of pregnancy right now. Nothing is impossible with God, Mary.”
Seconds of silence crawled by. Gabriel stood motionless, attentive, as Mary took a deep breath. Her eyes moved slowly from his face to the floor, then to the open window, then to the door, and back to him again. As her fear and faith coalesced into one clear decision, she looked up and said with quiet determination, “I am here to serve the Lord. Let it be done to me as you have said.”
Just then Mary’s mother came in, struggling under the weight of two large, dripping water pots. Mary rushed to help her, grasping one jar firmly and easing it onto the table. Her mother set the other down, wiping perspiration from her brow and pushing her hair back with the same motion. With a sigh, she asked, “Has it gone well here, honey? You look a little surprised to see me.”
“Yes Mom. Everything’s been fine.” Mary looked quickly around the room. No one else was there. “Mom,” she asked presently. “Do you suppose Dad would mind if we went to visit Aunt Elizabeth some time soon?”
Grace. In our world it can mean anything from composure (
grace under fire
), to a quick prayer over a meal (
Dear, will you say grace tonight?
), to a woman’s name (
This is my friend, Grace
). Mary was said to be the “
graced one
” and later Gabriel told her that she had been given
grace
by the Lord. We know we are saved by
grace
and that
grace
sustains us. Many of us have heard so much about grace that we have come to expect it, take it for granted. Like good service at a restaurant, we appreciate it, if we think about it, but generally we simply take it in stride. When grace is expected, though, the experience of it is somehow lost. The very nature of grace is that it is unexpected and challenging. Mary’s interview with Gabriel is a dramatic example.
Grace is a surprise because, simply put, it is God’s undeserved touch on our lives. Part of the shock of it is the realization that He is thinking about us specifically at all. The rest of the surprise is that He has a personal plan for us which extends into eternity. One word from Him, one simple thought in our direction changes everything. He interrupts our chores to call us by name into eternal service.
I remember several encounters with God’s grace as He brought me into genuine faith during my teen years. On one occasion I was driving home after a party. It was well after midnight and I had been the designated driver because I was the least inebriated of the crowd. I literally rolled one friend out on his lawn, leaving him to snore under a blanket of dew until sunrise. As I neared my home I sensed a deep sadness inside. God’s voice was not audible, and Gabriel didn’t show up, but the communication was as clear as the bright moonlight above my convertible. “Why are you living this way?” He asked. “This is not you and you know it. Your life will be wasted if you continue down this path. Is that what you want?” I began to cry. By the time I pulled up to my house and turned off the motor, all I could do was put my head on the steering wheel and close my eyes. After a few moments I got out and started walking down the driveway. But the pressure in my soul was so great that I stopped midway and knelt down and prayed. My head was not a clear as it should have been, but my heart had not been this open in many months. “Lord,” I said. “I’m sorry for all this. I hate this life and I want to stop. Please forgive me. Please take my life and do something with it.” It wasn’t a long prayer, but it was a real one. I got up and went into the house, found my way in the dark to my room and fell asleep immediately. In the morning we all went to church, where I didn’t glean a thing from the pastor’s sermon. But I knew something had changed in me the night before. Being at church with people who love the Lord felt right. I didn’t realize how quickly He would dare me to live out my new commitment.
The challenge of grace is to respond in faith. As with Gabriel and Mary’s exchange, an answering word of affirmation is required of us when we hear the Lord’s will.
After church that morning, I went out to my car and leaned against it, waiting for my family. I was thinking of the night before and my prayer, such as it was. Looking across the parking lot, I saw a college student walking toward me. He was one of the regular youth group guys, most of whom I didn’t know. But I knew Phil. He had graduated from High School a year ahead of me. He was popular, tall, good looking, a football player, had a really cute girlfriend.
We had little in common. But we went to the same church and had a passing, pleasant acquaintance
since we had both graduated.
“Howdy,” he said, sticking out his hand. “Nice car.” It was a nice car for an 18 year old kid in 1971, a ‘67 Mustang convertible with a rally package, black leather seats with embossed horses running across the shoulders, and a V8 rumbling under the hood. Expensive, but cool. I had to work full time to support it.
“Hey,” he said after the customary small talk about the
Mustang, “Would
you like to drive to Los Angeles with me tomorrow?” Phil didn’t have a car and LA was four hundred miles due South, so I immediately knew he had jumbled the words of his sentence. What he meant was, “Would you drive me back to Biola College tomorrow because I have lost my other ride.” I wasn’t offended at all, even though I knew I was being asked to be a taxi driver. My problem was my job at the local Chevron station, coupled with the fact that I was broke. I didn’t think I had the time or the money.
“Well ...” I began.
“There’s this great conference happening downtown,” he interrupted. “And a lot of us from the college are going. If you want, you can stay in my room for the week and use my meal card. We can go together to the conference.”
All of a sudden what seemed out of the question a moment ago began to look like a good idea. I had just re-opened my heart to the Lord last night, and here I was being presented with an opportunity to put my Mustang where my mouth was, to go to a place where somebody would be teaching the Bible and instructing us on our faith. My faith was being put to the test. Would I follow through?
“I’ll see if I can get off work.” I said, wondering if the place of eternal torment would freeze over soon. But it did. The manager of the station gave me a week off. And my Dad loaned me enough money for gas. The following morning Phil and I were on our way.
That week in L. A. changed my life. The Lord used the entire experience to turn my weak driveway prayer into a solid commitment. Step by step he re-directed me, first to Biola, then into ministry. Eight years later I was a full-time pastor on the staff of one of the largest churches in Southern California. Forty-five years later I am still living by grace. If he had told me out loud what his plan was, I would never have believed it. I’m still amazed. It’s like Christmas.
Christmas is about Grace. It’s about the surprising, blessed, challenging invasion of humanity by God himself in the person of Jesus. It’s about realizing that the Lord was thinking about us before we were thinking about him. It’s about not only his plan for humanity, but his personal plan for our lives. It’s a reminder that his love and providence can be ours if we will respond like Mary did.
“Lord, I am here to do your will. Let it be done to me as you say.” That is the Christmas prayer. It lasts a lifetime.
Just a Thought…
Pastor Rick
