What’s in a Name?
December 23, 2007
December 23, 2007
Rev. Susan Gilbert Zencka
Frame Memorial Presbyterian Church
Texts: Matthew 1:18-25; Luke 1:47-55
I have a friend named Len. At least, he thought he was named Len. When his son was born, and he wanted to name him Len Jr., he learned that he was not, in fact, named Leonard. As the story came out, he learned that while his parents were expecting him, they had the same discussion that we heard in the anthem – what shall the baby be named? And if it was a boy, his father wanted to name him Leonard. The mother, other the other hand, wanted to name him Donald. Unlike most couples, who eventually work out these disagreements and come to a shared decision, this couple didn’t. The baby was born, a son, and the mother told the hospital that he was to be named Donald, and so that was his name. The father’s response? “I don’t care what his name is, I’m going to call him Leonard.” And so my brother-in-law thought he was named Len Zencka, and eventually legally changed his name so that his name would reflect what he was called.
The readings today are completely separate – one recounting Joseph’s perspective, the other, Mary’s. There’s no sense that they are in the story together.
We need to remember that there is no single birth narrative in the Bible. Of the four gospels, two (Mark and John) don’t tell anything about the birth or early life of Jesus. And Matthew and Luke tell the story very differently from one another – in Luke’s version we focus on Mary, the manger, and shepherds. In Matthew’s telling of the event, we have Joseph’s perspective and the visit of the Magi. These stories aren’t in opposition – they just describe events differently. They both describe Jesus as being born in Bethlehem. They both describe a betrothed couple, Joseph and Mary, who before they are wed, learn that Mary is pregnant, and the explanation is that is the work of the Holy Spirit.
Joseph’s reaction seems reasonable...and within the context of religious law, was in fact merciful. The law provided that a girl found to be adulterous could be stoned to death. Joseph was choosing not to use the law to hurt Mary, or to punish her – he just was ready to move on. His understanding of God is not one that leads him to need to cause pain to another in pursuit of his own virtue. But God called him to move beyond reasonable, to move beyond kind, and so he chose to take Mary as his wife. He chose to trust God, trust Mary, and trust his own discernment beyond what the scripture told him to do.
Mary also had to engage this news, and choose a response. In an earlier passage, she, like Joseph, was afraid. Angels told both Mary and Joseph – don’t be afraid – and both of them chose to move beyond fear to openness. They were open to the possibilities, open to what God might be doing in and through them. In Mary’s case, while there was much that she did not know yet about her future, she was clear that it would be a future in which her world would be turned upside-down. Many places in the Bible, such a reversal is the sign of God’s action: the prisoners free, the blind see, the hungry filled, and so on. Most of the prophecies from Isaiah that are read during Advent have some kind of reversal within them: Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water; (Isaiah 35:5-7a); The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. (Isaiah 11:6); they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. (Isaiah 2:4); Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel….(Isaiah 7:14).
These were, in fact, signs of the Messiah. In an episode that comes during the ministry of Jesus, when John the Baptist is in prison, John “sent word by his disciples and said to him, "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?" Jesus answered them, "Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.”(Matthew 11:2-5).
Just like Joseph and Mary, John eventually has to respond to Jesus –and so we, too, are challenged to respond to Jesus – perhaps, like Joseph, we will be called beyond niceness and concern for the right thing, and we will grow in our ability to show mercy and engage new understanding. Perhaps we will be challenged to grow in trusting God; perhaps, like Mary, we will need to be open to our lives being turned upside-down; perhaps we will find ourselves being called beyond where we might have gone on our own. One of the central messages of Christmas is that God calls us into new possibilities, and sometimes this call is frightening to us, as it was to Mary and Joseph. How do we name what God is doing in us, even here, even now?
God calls each of us. Most of us don’t experience call as unambiguously as Mary and Joseph. Mary and Joseph weren’t preachers or teachers – but they were called to let God change their lives. Even as they were challenged by God, called beyond their own ideas, beyond their prior limitations, they were also cared for by God.
And being called isn’t just a single event – as we look at the story of Mary throughout the Gospel, she is called and challenged again and again – the call of God isn’t a destination, it’s the context for her life. And it is the context for all our lives. – And finally, we are not alone – we are part of the baptized community – we join with others who are ready to be challenged by God. And we know that God is with us – this God, Immanuel, not only calls us but meets us. In Christmas, we are reminded that God has entered our experience as one of us, and will never leave us alone. God didn’t come just for the high spots – God entered our reality in a lonely little outpost of an occupied country. God isn’t here for us only in our success, God is with us, whoever we are, however we are, wherever we find ourselves.
The Good News is that God meets us where we are – the challenge of the Gospel is that God rarely leaves us where God meets us. We are called outside ourselves, we are called beyond ourselves, and in the process, we are called to become ourselves. God’s gift to us of God’s self turns out to be also the gift of our own selves. Madison Avenue would have us believe that it has defined all the possibilities, but God calls us to participate in God’s own imagining for us and through us, and it is always to new possibilities within love. God calls us to love, in love, through love – for God’s love called God beyond God’s self to us as well. God comes to us now, Immanuel, God-with-us and God-for-us, forever and always new. Amen.
Rev. Susan Gilbert Zencka
Frame Memorial Presbyterian Church
Texts: Matthew 1:18-25; Luke 1:47-55
I have a friend named Len. At least, he thought he was named Len. When his son was born, and he wanted to name him Len Jr., he learned that he was not, in fact, named Leonard. As the story came out, he learned that while his parents were expecting him, they had the same discussion that we heard in the anthem – what shall the baby be named? And if it was a boy, his father wanted to name him Leonard. The mother, other the other hand, wanted to name him Donald. Unlike most couples, who eventually work out these disagreements and come to a shared decision, this couple didn’t. The baby was born, a son, and the mother told the hospital that he was to be named Donald, and so that was his name. The father’s response? “I don’t care what his name is, I’m going to call him Leonard.” And so my brother-in-law thought he was named Len Zencka, and eventually legally changed his name so that his name would reflect what he was called.
The readings today are completely separate – one recounting Joseph’s perspective, the other, Mary’s. There’s no sense that they are in the story together.
We need to remember that there is no single birth narrative in the Bible. Of the four gospels, two (Mark and John) don’t tell anything about the birth or early life of Jesus. And Matthew and Luke tell the story very differently from one another – in Luke’s version we focus on Mary, the manger, and shepherds. In Matthew’s telling of the event, we have Joseph’s perspective and the visit of the Magi. These stories aren’t in opposition – they just describe events differently. They both describe Jesus as being born in Bethlehem. They both describe a betrothed couple, Joseph and Mary, who before they are wed, learn that Mary is pregnant, and the explanation is that is the work of the Holy Spirit.
Joseph’s reaction seems reasonable...and within the context of religious law, was in fact merciful. The law provided that a girl found to be adulterous could be stoned to death. Joseph was choosing not to use the law to hurt Mary, or to punish her – he just was ready to move on. His understanding of God is not one that leads him to need to cause pain to another in pursuit of his own virtue. But God called him to move beyond reasonable, to move beyond kind, and so he chose to take Mary as his wife. He chose to trust God, trust Mary, and trust his own discernment beyond what the scripture told him to do.
Mary also had to engage this news, and choose a response. In an earlier passage, she, like Joseph, was afraid. Angels told both Mary and Joseph – don’t be afraid – and both of them chose to move beyond fear to openness. They were open to the possibilities, open to what God might be doing in and through them. In Mary’s case, while there was much that she did not know yet about her future, she was clear that it would be a future in which her world would be turned upside-down. Many places in the Bible, such a reversal is the sign of God’s action: the prisoners free, the blind see, the hungry filled, and so on. Most of the prophecies from Isaiah that are read during Advent have some kind of reversal within them: Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water; (Isaiah 35:5-7a); The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. (Isaiah 11:6); they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. (Isaiah 2:4); Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel….(Isaiah 7:14).
These were, in fact, signs of the Messiah. In an episode that comes during the ministry of Jesus, when John the Baptist is in prison, John “sent word by his disciples and said to him, "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?" Jesus answered them, "Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.”(Matthew 11:2-5).
Just like Joseph and Mary, John eventually has to respond to Jesus –and so we, too, are challenged to respond to Jesus – perhaps, like Joseph, we will be called beyond niceness and concern for the right thing, and we will grow in our ability to show mercy and engage new understanding. Perhaps we will be challenged to grow in trusting God; perhaps, like Mary, we will need to be open to our lives being turned upside-down; perhaps we will find ourselves being called beyond where we might have gone on our own. One of the central messages of Christmas is that God calls us into new possibilities, and sometimes this call is frightening to us, as it was to Mary and Joseph. How do we name what God is doing in us, even here, even now?
God calls each of us. Most of us don’t experience call as unambiguously as Mary and Joseph. Mary and Joseph weren’t preachers or teachers – but they were called to let God change their lives. Even as they were challenged by God, called beyond their own ideas, beyond their prior limitations, they were also cared for by God.
And being called isn’t just a single event – as we look at the story of Mary throughout the Gospel, she is called and challenged again and again – the call of God isn’t a destination, it’s the context for her life. And it is the context for all our lives. – And finally, we are not alone – we are part of the baptized community – we join with others who are ready to be challenged by God. And we know that God is with us – this God, Immanuel, not only calls us but meets us. In Christmas, we are reminded that God has entered our experience as one of us, and will never leave us alone. God didn’t come just for the high spots – God entered our reality in a lonely little outpost of an occupied country. God isn’t here for us only in our success, God is with us, whoever we are, however we are, wherever we find ourselves.
The Good News is that God meets us where we are – the challenge of the Gospel is that God rarely leaves us where God meets us. We are called outside ourselves, we are called beyond ourselves, and in the process, we are called to become ourselves. God’s gift to us of God’s self turns out to be also the gift of our own selves. Madison Avenue would have us believe that it has defined all the possibilities, but God calls us to participate in God’s own imagining for us and through us, and it is always to new possibilities within love. God calls us to love, in love, through love – for God’s love called God beyond God’s self to us as well. God comes to us now, Immanuel, God-with-us and God-for-us, forever and always new. Amen.