Sun, Dec 12, 2021
Challenging conception(s)
Luke 1:39-45 by Craig de Vos
Series: Sermons

Many years ago…

while I was working on my doctoral thesis…

I travelled to Greece and spent time exploring the ruins of ancient Corinth…

as part of my research.

I stayed in a small taverna in the local village.

It came highly recommended in my travel guidebook…

but I also selected that particular establishment… because the guidebook indicated that they accepted “Visa” cards.

At the end of my stay, I went to the proprietor to settle my bill.

He was behind the bar…

at which were seated a couple of other men from the village.

While my grasp of classical Greek was very good––

especially at that stage––

I didn’t speak modern Greek.

And he only knew a smattering of English.

I pulled out my wallet to indicate that I wanted to pay…

and he seemed to understand.

He wrote something on a piece of paper…

gestured for me to come over…

and handed me the slip…

in full view of the other men.

On the piece of paper was the number “six thousand five hundred”…

which was the cost of my stay in Drachma––

Greece’s currency at the time.

I pulled my Visa card from my wallet and held it up.

A look of horror spread over his face.

Some animated discussion occurred amongst the men.

Despite what the guidebook said, he clearly didn’t take credit cards.

I started to feel uncomfortable.

The only bank in town had closed an hour ago…

and there were no ATMs.

With an apologetic look on my face… 

I opened my wallet.

All I had was a single five thousand Drachma note.

A huge smile spread across his face.

He plucked the note from my wallet with obvious delight…

turned and said something to the other men…

then insisted…

by way of gesture…

that my then-wife and I sit at one of the tables…

while he brought us a couple of Greek coffees for free…

then he warmly waved ‘goodbye’ to us when our taxi arrived.

 

That series of exchanges would not have happened in Australia.

It would have been my responsibility to ensure that I had the appropriate means to pay my bill.

And I would have been expected to pay it in full.

Period.

I certainly wouldn’t have been “rewarded” with a free coffee…

let alone a warm send-off.

But, in traditional Greek culture, honour and shame are the dominant values.

And the preservation of honour––

or its acquisition––

and the avoidance of shame…

are more valuable than anything.

Presenting him with the credit card was a challenge to his honour…

and one that he couldn’t meet.

He stood to lose face with his peers.

By offering him a lesser amount…

I was acknowledging my indebtedness…

and, hence, taking on shame.

By accepting it, he was gaining honour at my expense.

And the protocol is…

when you have bettered someone in an honour-exchange…

then you are obliged to be magnanimous––

hence, the free coffees.

 

The taverna-owner was operating from a different cultural code.

And those sorts of cultural codes––

how we interact with one another…

the things that we value and aspire to…

and how we understand the world––

are not normally mentioned or explained;

they’re simply assumed.

And that’s especially the case with matters that are––

from a cultural perspective––

embarrassing or shameful.

 

Our reading this morning from Luke’s Gospel is a strange little story.

Few Biblical scholars pay much attention to it…

and it gets pretty cursory comments.

It’s treated simply as a narrative bridge… 

which connects the important event that has just happened––

the Annunciation to Mary––

with the next episode––

namely, the birth of John the Baptist.

But, perhaps part of the problem… 

is that this little vignette is dripping with cultural code—

the sort that is not talked about and simply assumed.

So, let’s look a bit more closely.

 

As I mentioned, immediately prior to our reading, we’re introduced to Mary…

who hears from an angel that she’s about to become pregnant.

There, we’re also told that she’s “betrothed” to Joseph.

But… 

aside from that mention… 

he doesn’t otherwise play any role in the narrative at this point. 

Mary is told that she will bear a son.

But she’s not told anything else. 

There’s no promise or guarantee that Joseph will go ahead with the wedding.

Although she’s been told that she will bear a son…

there’s been no promise that… 

having borne the child… 

she will raise it herself.

At this point, Mary is simple a young, unwed mother-to-be.

As it stands…

at the start of our reading…

Mary is in a position to inflict a great deal of shame on her family.

 

During the angelic visitation, Mary is told that her much older cousin––

Elizabeth––

is six months pregnant.

At the start of our reading, Mary goes to visit her.

We don’t know how long after the “Annunciation” this takes place––

“in those days” is deliberately ambiguous.

But the more interesting fact is that Mary is said to go “with haste”.

Why the urgency?

 

Just hold that for a second.

 

Elizabeth lives in “a Judean town in the hill country”

which would have been more than one hundred kilometres away––

which was a long way to go on foot.

And, from the narrative, it appears that she goes alone.

And…

we discover at the end of the next section after our reading… 

that she stays with Elizabeth for three months…

that is…

until after Elizabeth has had her baby.

 

So, what’s going on?

 

Why does Mary––

suddenly discovering that she’s pregnant–– 

hurriedly embark on a long journey…

by herself… 

and go and stay for an extended period with an older relative…

for the greater part of her own pregnancy…

far away from her home and her own mother?

 

Was this visit the case of Mary being “sent away”…

as a young, unwed mother…

in order to have her baby in secret so as to avoid bringing shame on her family…

if her father couldn’t get Joseph to do the right thing?

I mean…

that’s the sort of thing that used to be done…

even in our society, several generations ago.

Furthermore…

given that Elizabeth is said to be getting on in years

and has clearly had a difficult reproductive history prior to this…

and given that, in this pre-medical world, a quarter of all babies died before their first birthday…

had the intention been for Mary to stay for the duration of her own pregnancy…

and then offer her baby to Elizabeth and Zechariah to “adopt”…

following the likely loss of their own child?

After all, the angel had only said that she would bear a child.

He didn’t say anything about her raising it.

 

But Elizabeth’s child did live.

Mary returns home.

And the next thing we know, she and Joseph are married…

and they’re on their way to Bethlehem.

 

So, what would this story have said to Luke’s original readers?

 

If you excuse the pun…

this story is pregnant with possibilities.

 

Jesus’ coming to us is precarious… 

and there are no guarantees.

Jesus’ coming to us is somewhat open-ended…

and we don’t have all the answers…

and we don’t always know what to do to prepare for it.

But what we do know… 

is that Jesus’ coming overturns our social expectations;

it forces us to confront our cultural assumptions;

and it challenges us to see God working to bring those at the margins into the centre.

 

This story reminds us that justice and liberation are at the heart of the Advent story;

and they should be at the centre of our preparation for Christmas, too.