The angel replied, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the baby to be born will be holy, and he will be called the Son of God.” … Mary responded, “I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.” And then the angel left her. [Luke 1:35,38 (NLT)]
When I was young, back in the 1950s, sex education pretty much consisted of some talk about bees pollinating flowers. Married couples on television didn’t sleep in the same bed and husbands always seemed completely surprised when wives announced a baby was arriving. As a little girl, I naively thought marriage (not intercourse) was what produced babies and that God put babies in a woman’s tummy once she was married.
Having been told that “virgin” simply meant unmarried, I understood that God deliberately gave Jesus to Mary before she was married. Unfortunately, I’d also heard whispers of other unwed mothers—girls who got in the “family way” without benefit of a husband. I knew by the whispers that, except for Mary, being an unwed mother was a bad thing. Although God meant to give Jesus to Mary, I naively thought God occasionally made mistakes when He gave babies to other unmarried girls. As a result of my muddled childlike thinking, I would pray and remind God that I wasn’t married so He shouldn’t give me a baby. Fortunately, by the time I was an adolescent, my understanding both of reproduction and theology had vastly improved.
What brought this to mind was a recent rereading of Luke 1. What I didn’t understand as a child (but do now) is that Mary had a choice in the matter. Granted, she was miraculously impregnated by the Holy Spirit but she could have refused her holy assignment. Instead, she obediently accepted it. She may have been young but not so young that she didn’t know life was going to be much harder by her choice. How would she explain such a miraculous happening to her family and Joseph? Who would believe such a fantastic story? She could end up disgraced and rejected by both fiancé and family. Yet, this young humble girl, who really had no idea of the magnitude of what was happening, willingly obeyed the Lord.
If an angel appeared at my doorstep and offered me an assignment, I wonder how willing I would be to accept his task without knowing the who, how, what, why and where of the plan. Mary believed and obeyed; would I do the same? Would you?
It’s that time of year again. Signs in stores say it, holiday lights in yards and on rooftops proclaim it, and we might greet one another in church with it. We send out cards with its message, sing of it and, yet, we’re bereft of it. We think we’ll have it when our chores are done, the cards mailed, the house cleaned, the tree decorated, the lights up, the cookies baked, the gifts purchased, the packages wrapped, and the bills paid. We sure we’ll get it if we reach our destination without delay or losing luggage or once our children arrive safely home. As long as everyone stays healthy, no food gets burnt, nothing is broken, politics isn’t discussed, no one gets drunk, and the back-ordered gift arrives in time, we’re sure to have it then. Yet, even when everything goes as planned (and believe me it won’t), it seems to escape us.
Filled with law, wisdom, history, prophecy, poetry, gospel, and letters, the Bible is the basis of our faith. None of us, however, were alive in 1400 BC when Genesis was written or at the end of the 1st Century when Revelation was penned. We’re neither Jews in Judah, Egypt, Israel, or Babylon nor 1st Century Jewish or Gentile converts in Rome or Greece and we have little in common with the Bible’s original audience. Although Scripture is timeless, that difference in time and culture makes us think of Scripture as impersonal and its words as general instructions dedicated to the community of faith at large. There is, however, nothing impersonal about God’s message to us and we are not faceless nameless members of His family. Scripture penned thousands of years ago was written specifically for you and me today. There is a personal relevant message for each one of us every time we read its words.
We just received one of those beautiful edible arrangements of fruit. The fruit was displayed as if we had an enormous flower arrangement. It seemed a pity to pull off the enormous ripe strawberries or take the melon balls from the centers of the pineapple slices but it was necessary if we were ever going to truly appreciate it. Fruit is meant to be eaten and that much fruit was meant to be shared before it spoiled. As I packed it up (all the while tasting as I worked), I couldn’t help but think of another gift of fruit—the fruit of the Spirit. Like juicy strawberries and sweet melon, it’s meant to be shared. Moreover, the Holy Spirit’s fruit doesn’t need to be refrigerated, can’t spoil, and is even more beautiful than real fruit, no matter how artfully arranged.
As earth’s first gardener, God knew a thing or two about agriculture. Recognizing that continually working a field depletes the soil of valuable nutrients, He commanded the Israelites to let their land remain fallow every seven years. During this yearlong land Sabbath, no produce was to be planted, pruned or harvested and any food that grew by itself, such as grapes or figs, could not be harvested, sold or stored. God promised to grant an abundant crop in the sixth year so there would be plenty of food to carry the people through the Sabbath year and well into the next years until a new crop was harvested. Considered ownerless, the produce that grew by itself could be eaten by anyone or fed to the animals. The Sabbath year was a test of faith; it required the Israelites to acknowledge God as the true master of the land, to trust Him for His provision, and to share with those less fortunate.
Devotions of the Heart 