Romans 16:25-27
“At
the very center of the Christian faith is the conviction that in the universe
there is a God who is able to do exceedingly abundant things in nature and
history. This conviction is stressed over and over in the Old and New
Testament. Theologically this affirmation is the doctrine of the Omnipotence of
God. The God whom we worship is not a weak and incompetent God. The God we
worship is able to beat back gigantic waves of opposition and bring low
prodigious mountains of evil. The ringing testimony of the Christian faith is
that God is able to make a way out of no way. God is able to transform dark
yesterdays into a bright tomorrow. This is our hope. This is our mandate for
seeking to make a better world.”
I
wish I could preach like that. The words I just read were proclaimed by Martin
Luther King Jr. in Montgomery, Alabama on the first Sunday of February in 1956.
Three days earlier his house had been fire bombed while King and his family
were attending a local rally.
It
is one thing for me to stand here and say, “God is able.” Truth is if I
couldn’t proclaim those words found in the 16th chapter of Romans, I
probably should be doing something else for a living. But imagine proclaiming
those words just after your family has been threatened and your home destroyed.
Imagine wondering what might happen the next time you speak in public. Imagine speaking
the words, “God is able,” while wondering if the stranger sitting in the front
pew might be your next assailant. Imagine walking into that pulpit, with every
eye watching and every ear listening, and having the courage to remind folks that:
Our God created the
universe,
Our
God rescued the Hebrews from bondage,
Our
God designed a dynasty and made a poet its king,
Our
God brought the Jewish people back from Babylon,
Our
God rebuilt Jerusalem and adorned it with a temple,
Our
God is able to do whatever our God wants to do.
(pause)
I
must confess I do not have the moral fiber or the religious conviction of Dr.
King. I certainly would question appearing in public days after an attack had
been made on my life. Furthermore, the absolutes offered by Dr. King resonate
when proclaimed as a poetic litany, but those stories, those signature moments
of Israel carry with it the mustiness of ancient history. Some folks could care
less what is written in our sacred text. Some folks might remind us it has been
a long time since the Red Sea. Others might suggest what God did yesterday
hardly gives God a pass for what God seems to have failed to do today.
It
is these questions, these confusions, and these confessions that make the
Christmas story so vital. If everyone lived their life in full compliance with
the wishes of God, I could make a great argument that Christmas would not have been
necessary. We would still exchange gifts. We would still come together for a
traditional meal. We would still decorate a tree and even write holiday
greetings to friends and family. Trust me, with or without Jesus, Wal-Mart and
Target cannot afford for Christmas to disappear.
But
the real Christmas, the actual appearance of God among us was not some something
dreamed up by a Madison Avenue ad agency. It was a Holy response to an unholy
situation. It was the God of Creation, the God of the Exodus, the God of David
and the God of Isaiah reminding anyone with ears to hear that God is able.
Christ
did not come when the stock market was up, Christ did not come when there was no
political crises. Christ did not come when the hospitals were empty. While we soft
peddle Christmas with Rudolph and Frosty, the darkness that surrounded the
original event swallowed the courage of most anyone who dared to hope for
light.
Within this context, Luke gives us the story
of a girl who finds the strength to believe God is able. What makes the story entirely
plausible is that her faith is neither blind nor without question.
When
told she was to be the mother of God’s son, the first words out of Mary’s mouth
were, “How is this possible?” Her response
was so authentic, so real. What was she suppose to say? I would suggest anyone
made privy to the plans God introduced to reconcile the world from sin probably
responded, “Are you kidding me?”
Unaffected,
the angel of the Lord sang, “Fear Not! With God, all things are possible.”
Some
weeks those words are a lot more believable. But after this week I can fully appreciate
Mary’s hesitation. Even in this season
of miracles I find my courage failing. Bonnie Jefferson fell and had to have
her second hip replacement on the same leg in less than a month. Mike Fisher
had a knee replaced. Stu Armstrong had surgery on his wrist. Bobby Rose’s
shoulder replacement was rescheduled, because Annie Mae is recovering from
bronchitis. And that is the good news. Early this week Jimmy McGann died. His
services were Friday. Pat Humphrey is with her daughter for what she fears is
the last time. Ralph Frink is preparing for a bout with radiation and chemo
while Barbara, Perry, and Rocky have decided enough is enough. How can we be
expected to simply pick up our hymnbooks and sing, “Joy to the World”?
I
would suggest we begin by embracing the complexities of Mary’s reaction. Mary
response reminds us that questions have always formulated the very essence of
what we believe. If there are no questions, there is a questionable foundation
that promises to erode at the first sign of crisis. The question, “How can this
be”, reminds us how much of God is hidden. Yet the Christmas event, unlike
Creation, confirms how close God is willing to come.
To
claim “God is able” opens our lives to possibilities beyond our limited
imaginations. We are allowed to question while still believing. Perhaps more
importantly, we can believe without needing all the answers.
Yesterday
Deb and I dropped by to visit Elizabeth and Perry. As we were leaving,
Elizabeth whispered, “Louie, this is the season when the angel said, ‘Fear Not’.”
It was not necessary for Elizabeth to qualify or explain her incredible
confession of faith. All I could do was thank her for reminding me of the very
heart of the Christmas message.
O
God who is able,
Open unto me light for
my darkness;
Open
unto me hope for my despair;
Open
unto me joy for my sorrow;
Open
unto me peace for my turmoil.
O
God who is able,
Open
unto me courage for my fears.
Amen.
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