Yes

Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Advent IV, Year B
December 20, 2020
 
“No.”  It is a word we hated to hear when we were kids.  “No” is one of the first words we learned as toddler terrorists as in no, “I will not eat beans. No, I will not take a nap. No, I will do it myself!”  Fast forward to teen years. We are, then, encouraged to “Just say no to all kinds of peer pressure and vices.”  As we age, “no” becomes harder for us to say because we want whatever pleasure “yes” brings, and we want to go along, get along, make peace, avoid conflict, and please others.
 
“Yes” is easier to say in many situations, but it is a problematic word.  Our “yes” can bring extra responsibility on us, demand serious time commitment, and unexpected challenges.  If we are too easy or quick to say “yes,” we risk being overwhelmed, overburdened, and harboring feelings of regret and resentment.
 
“No” and “yes” are simple words, but they have great power.  They are gatekeeper words that impact our circumstances, our actions, and our choices.
 
Mary, the soon to be mother of Jesus, was born into a world that, externally, gave her a bunch of “no’s.”  No, she was not very old.  No, she did not have property or status.  No, she was not a citizen, rather she and her people were under the thumb of Roman occupation and oppression.  No, she was not able to be educated beyond whatever the women in her religious community were allowed… which was not much.  No, she could not make basic choices about where she lived, what she did, and with whom she lived.  The males in her family we the only ones empowered with any choice… which in that place and time, was not much either.  No, she was not courted, and she did not date her intended, the carpenter Joseph, in any way we might understand.  According to custom, her betrothal and subsequent marriage was arranged, typically as a family merger, as a business deal, or as a way to give her a provider, relieving her family’s need to feed, clothe, and house her, and to be sure she remained in the family of Judaism.  The only “yes” she had going for her was that she was of the house of David, meaning that she was distantly descendant of the legendary king and leader.  That counted for something, but David lived a thousand years before her, there were thousands of descendants, and things had not been so grand for her people in a long, long time.
 
With little or no money, property, or assets, it is assured that Mary came to Joseph with no measurable dowry.  What she had to offer was the strength of her youth: her ability to work and her capacity to procreate.  Children were perceived a burden at first, as surviving infancy was precarious at best.  Children counted even less than women, until their survival and usefulness as herders, crafters, or other kinds of workers was realized.  With no social security, no retirement plans, and no health care of any kind, able bodied children represented security as they were obliged to care for their elders, honor the family name, and embody their religious and cultural traditions.  This is why they wanted and needed many children, and why having a large family was seen as a blessing, a future, and the potential to thrive.
 
In the sixth month, an angel, Gabriel, comes to Mary, greeting her with honor, honor for of all people?  He tells Mary that she will conceive and bear a son, and that son would be called “son of the Most High,” and that son will reign on the throne of David, and have a limitless and unending kingdom.  That is more than heavy for a young woman from nowhere Nazareth, of no means, and no choices and a precarious future.  He goes on to say that will not alone in her expectancy.  He cousin Elizabeth who was, up to that point barren and thus, seen as relatively useless, would also bear a child.  Good thing.  Mary would not go it all completely alone.
 
Even so, Mary may not have been educated but she was not ignorant of biology.  In an agrarian society, where flocks and herds were a primary food source, the facts of the birds and the bees were known, understood, and enabled as a matter of survival.  As she inquires how this conception could happen, the angel proclaims the power of the Holy Spirit and a miracle that will happen within her own body.  For those of us with any experience or knowledge, every birth is miraculous, so the Holy Spirit is not just engaged with Mary in that sense.
 
But now, Mary has another set of “no’s” working against her.  No, she has no credible story as to how this came about to tell Joseph.  No, she might not have the security of marrying Joseph or anyone else, as it is his right to expose her to scandal, and choose to dismiss her outright.  No, Joseph was not obliged to honor the betrothal by law and custom.   No, her family does not have to accept her back if she has brought shame upon them.  No, she will not have guaranteed support, assistance, or any security at all in giving birth, caring for herself and her infant, let alone raising a child alone.  No, people in her circumstance rarely survived.
 
However, and this is crucial, the Angel tells her that “nothing will be impossible with God.”  In this, the angel is dropping a spiritual breadcrumb leading Mary to see a bigger picture.  While she may not have been able to read, Mary knew God’s story with God’s people from the very beginning.  Through regular and repeated storytelling, she knew the epic stories of her people’s journey with God from generation to generation despite the odds of being extinguished.  She knew of Abraham and Sarah and the birth of Isaac to them in old age.  They were told “nothing was impossible with God.”   She knew of the precarious birth story of Moses, the deliverer and law giver, who was told and shown that “nothing is impossible with God.”   She knew of the unlikely youngest and scrawniest son of Jesse, David, being chosen as the greatest king and leader they had even known, told time and again that “nothing is impossible with God.”  Her people’s stories of God and God’s people are shot through with unlikely birth stories.  In them, God empowers powerless and unlikely people in far out of the way places.  In them, faithful followers overcome long odds, working with God and playing a role God’s wish and will for the world.  When she hears about her cousin Elizabeth’s unlikely conception, that smacks of God’s handywork.  But it is the clarion and clear statement: “nothing is impossible with God,” that seals the deal.  God is on the move in yet another unlikely person and place.  In this, Mary hears a divine yes:  yes, you Mary, you have a part to play in God’s love affair with the world.
 
With that, Mary utters the holy words of her ancestors.  Hers are the words of the patriarchs and matriarchs stepping out in faith.  Hers of the words of prophets called to tell of God’s purposes and plans.  Hers are the words of those who hears and affirm the divine “yes.”  She says: “Here am I.  Let it be with me according to your word.”  Out of all the no’s, all the barriers, and all of the circumstantial impossibilities, Mary says “yes.”
 
As we approach the celebration of God coming to be with us in Jesus -- of Emmanuel – we are prodded, encouraged, and invited from wherever we are: out of the way, unremarkable, and unlikely, to listen for the divine “yes” and our call to follow.  In a world full of no’s, our God is a God of yes.  Yes, you are beloved.  Yes, you are just one person.  Yes, the world is large and its problems are vast.  Even so, yes, we are have a role in the divine mystery, the way of love, and being the hands and feel of Christ.  So, what’ll it be.  For God’s sake, let it be yes.  Here we are.  Let it be with us according to God’s Word.  Amen.