Perplexed Luke 1:26-56

Have you ever wondered why God put the future of humankind
in the hands of a young teenaged girl?
Seriously…what was God thinking
when God sent Angel-In-Chief Gabriel to a young girl, Mary,
who was about 13 or 14 assuming she was at the average age of engagement.
Think about it. That's basically an eighth grader!

If it was 2008 and Gabriel suddenly appeared in an eighth-grade girl's room
He'd likely find someone with a mouth full of braces,
a bed full of stuffed animals,
a closet full of clothes,
and sitting at her computer instant-messaging at least five friends at once.
Was Mary, at 13, all that different?
Some might say it was too risky for God to give such responsibility to someone so young
But, God being God, I suppose we should say it was inspired.

Teenagers don't get a whole lot of respect from their elders
mainly because they remind us of all the awkward, uncertain, fanciful qualities
we have spent so much energy as adults trying to overcome or leave behind.
But maybe a teenager has just the right combination of irreverence and awe,
of hard-headedness and wishful thinking
of literalism and idealism to be of use in God’s most important mission.
Maybe Mary was the perfect choice to be the mother of God’s son.

What are we to think of Mary?
We preachers can’t stop ourselves this time of year
from putting on theological waders and mucking around
in the mire of unanswerable questions concerning Mary,
trying to sort out fact from fiction
in Luke's account of the beginning of Mary's pregnancy.

Most of our effort goes into the issue of Mary's virginity.
Some say the fact that she is referred to as a virgin
is proof of God's mischievous inclination toward the grand gesture
a way of backing up Gabriel’s claim that nothing will be impossible with God.
Others say the story of Mary's virginity is simply a literary device.
It’s a way of putting Jesus on equal footing with Roman emperors
who were also said to be born of divine intervention.
But we don't have to suspend what we know of the science of reproduction
to find meaning in God's invitation or in Mary's response.

Despite all the hard battles that have been fought over the issue,
the question of Mary's virginity is really a curious footnote to the story of Jesus' birth;
and I would say, is not that essential to the meaning of this story for us.
What gives this story such power and what makes it such a challenge to our own faith
is not Mary’s past but more her present.
It’s not what she had or had not done, but more what she was willing to do
and how able she was to give up the illusion of certainty in her life
and live in the more unsettled realm of perplexity.

Mary responded to Gabriel's greeting.
She was "perplexed," it says.
She was "perplexed"
and she "pondered" what sort of greeting Gabriel had given.
She was perplexed and she pondered
And she couldn't possibly perceive what kind of power was going to pursue her
yet, she was able to say at the end of the visit,
"Here am I, the servant of the Lord;
Let it be to me according to your word.”

I’ve read this story at least a hundred times
but this year, for some reason, the word in the passage that glows with radioactivity
is the word “perplexed.”
“She was much perplexed by his words,” we’re told,
and that was just Gabriel’s GREETING!
That was before he even got to the heart of his message!

I know this isn’t the kind of story we should examine
with tweezers and a magnifying glass.
After all, there’s an angel in the story.
If there’s an angel in the story don’t waste your time analyzing grammar.
It’s an ANGEL, for goodness sake. God’s own emissary.
I’ve never seen an angel (that I know of)
but the fact that the first words out of an angel’s mouth is always “Do not be afraid,”
gives me an idea what kind of experience it is.

So when an angel appears to an eighth grade girl
and that girl is not terrified or paralyzed or rendered incontinent
but is instead, “perplexed” it grabs my attention.
it touches the perplexity in me.

The word “perplexed” is a great word.
It’s fun to say, for one thing. “Perplexed.”
But more than that, it strikes me as the perfect word
to sum up the kind of year we’ve had in 2008.
The end of this year leaves us with a lot of questions,
more questions, certainly, than answers, and we are perplexed.

We are perplexed because this nation of ours,
which we’ve always counted on to be strong and vibrant,
God’s favored nation among all nations,
seems uncharacteristically impotent these days.
We’re perplexed because people we’ve depended on,
professionals whom we’ve entrusted with our money or our vote,
have proven unusually inept at best, corrupt at worst.
We’re perplexed because in difficult times we count on those in the entertainment industry
to distract us from our problems,
but the culture of celebrity these days has become so outrageous
that we find ourselves more often disgusted than distracted.

We are perplexed and we hate to be perplexed.
We’d much rather be certain.
We like our transactions neat and resolutions to our problems quick.
In the best of all possible worlds,
we prefer to base our decisions on predictable outcomes.
Given the state we’re in, however,
the future that lies ahead of us is anything but predictable.
But instead of panicking, instead of trying to force square pegs into round holes
just for the sake of getting something done,
just to feed the illusion of certainty,
maybe the most important thing is to make friends with our perplexity.
Maybe the best thing we can do is learn to be more like an eighth grader.
I’m not trying to glorify eighth graders.
I grew six inches in the eighth grade
and it was ten years before my arms and legs
started working in coordination again.
My voice changed in the eighth grade
so that I didn’t know from one word to the next
if I was going to be a soprano or a baritone.

But one thing eighth graders have over us is the ability to live in a state of perplexity.
For them, perplexity is a given.
One reason eighth graders are always perplexed
is that they KNOW they aren’t in control of their own destiny.
Oh, they WANT to be, and they sometimes try to ACT like they are,
but in their heart of hearts they know they aren’t likely to get very far on their own.
So, they understand that their life is not entirely their own
and they are dependent on someone more powerful than they.

Another thing – eighth graders live in a state of perplexity
because they are romantic in nature.
And I don’t just mean eighth grade girls.
What I mean by romantic is that they have a capacity for imagining an alternative reality.
They do a lot of day dreaming, imagining themselves in different scenarios,
pretending that they could take any one of a dozen different paths in life
and be happy.
If there is any grace in their life, they are at age 13 still free to indulge in fantasy,
and stay fluid in their dreaming.
In their minds, at least, they still have the capacity to be heroic.

The fact of the matter is that perplexity is much more fertile ground for faith
than is the certainty we adults are always chasing.
When we are perplexed we are more able and apt to look to God for direction.
When we are perplexed we are more able to imagine a new possibility.

When Gabriel came to Mary, a young teenaged girl, and made his speech
he was coming to one who seemed a most unlikely candidate
to carry out God’s grand design.
But let me ask you this.
Are we any more likely candidates to be vessels of God’s grace?
Are we any more likely candidates to be entrusted with spreading the good news
that in Christ God has chosen to fully identify with our pain and our promise?
Are we, who are so enamored with certainty,
able to attain the necessary level of perplexity
that will make US into willing servants of the Lord
that will make us flexible enough to align our aspirations with God’s design?

This Thursday Christmas comes again.
Amid all the other traditional trappings that mark our celebration of it,
allow yourself to see it again as an eighth-grader, as a thirteen-year-old.
And in that teenager’s frame of mind
allow yourself to imagine that with God all things are possible.