When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him . . . (Matt. 1:18-25). 

Whether in story or song, we yearn for resolution.

We don’t always get it. Some musical composers seem to delight in the discordant, regarding the unfinished sound as artistry. Some writers leave us wondering and guessing, regarding the jagged edges of the tale as closer to reality. They may be right. But that doesn’t change the fact that the ear and the mind instinctively seek resolution.

We want the chords to progress in such a way that we hear and feel the conclusion of the piece. We like for the varied plotlines of the story to come together in such way that the fragments form a unified whole.

“They lived happily ever after.” That’s the story we like to hear, the ending we yearn for.

God in Loose Ends

Matthew’s story of Jesus’ birth lacks resolution. As we typically read it and hear it read, the story ends nicely enough with Joseph taking Mary as his wife. But while this ending is simple, it isn’t neat. Much is left untold.

The fall-out from the marriage remains untold. New Testament scholar Craig Keener writes that “Joseph’s obedience to God cost him the right to value his own reputation.” And then there’s the little detail about “having no union with her” until the birth of Jesus. They’re married, but not fully married. This isn’t quite happily ever after. Resolution eludes us at the end of Matthew’s story.

There is one line however that helps us make sense of what Joseph did and how he did it. When the Angel spoke the words that the prophet Isaiah had spoken long ago, the child is identified as Immanuel – “God with us.”  

“God with us.” That truth is at the core of the Christmas story, and in some way it is at the core of our own stories as well – especially the messy stories, the stories that lack resolution and leave us groping about for what’s next.

Endings yet Unseen

We tend to think that when God is with us, the story will always resolve. We sometimes doubt “God with us” because if it were true, life would surely look differently than it does today. Joseph wouldn’t be risking his good name, devoting himself to an already-pregnant woman. And we too would be getting something other than we’ve got.    

But “God with us” means that God enters fully into the life you have right now. And if God embraces your life, maybe you can embrace it too. You can do the hard thing and accept the difficult reality – just as Joseph did. And you can do it with deep peace and bold confidence, knowing that ultimately in all things God is working for your good.

Over the past few weeks of Advent, we’ve listened to the words of the angels: “Be not afraid,” “you will have a child,” “take Mary as your wife.” All the messages the angels deliver are powerful and life changing. But maybe the one short line spoken to Joseph in a dream is what we most need to hear this Christmas.

Jesus is “Immanuel – God with us.”     

In the story you’re living today, and the story that comes to you in the year ahead, you can know that God is present with you. All things will one day resolve. Until then, like Joseph,  we live in faithful obedience.

Prayer:

I will claim the Angel’s words to Joseph as your promise to me, O God. You are with us. In Jesus you entered fully into the experience of life and embraced it all. Because you are with us we can do the same. Grant us the gift of your Spirit that we might live fully in your presence today, we ask in Jesus’s name. Amen.

While he was trying to figure a way out, he had a dream (Matt, 1:20, The Message)

We might have expected quick and decisive action from Joseph.

Anger and humiliation, mingled with grief and a sense of betrayal do not make for slow and measured thinking. Upon learning of Mary’s pregnancy – and we are not told exactly how Joseph learned this – Joseph might have been inclined to do something immediately: Lash out, strike back, protect his name, exact retribution from the one harming him.

He didn’t do any of that. The reason is quite simple as best we can tell. He loved Mary. The biblical text tells us plainly that Joseph was a just or righteous man, and he didn’t want to expose Mary to public disgrace. 

If our emotions are sails that catch the wind and fury of our life experiences, then perhaps character is the rudder that guides the ship. So it was with Joseph. He didn’t do anything rash, nothing knee-jerk. He was thoughtful, maybe even reflective. When emotions run high this is hard to do.

Sleep On It

The NIV and ESV Bibles both say that Joseph’s plan for a quiet divorce from Mary was a ‘considered’ course of action, not merely an act of retaliation. Eugene Peterson’s helpful modern translation, The Message, says that Joseph was ‘looking for a way out.’ It paints a picture of a man thinking through his options, searching for the best when every choice was awful, nothing good to be found.

And then he slept. We know this because the ‘way out’ came from an angel who appeared in Joseph’s dream. There’s something to be said for that old piece of wisdom. Sometimes the best thing we can do when we don’t know what to do is ‘sleep on it.’

When you sleep you are dormant and still. And with you still, God can move in a powerful way.

Grace Begins Where You End

The story of Joseph offers encouragement to all who overwhelmed with life: facing formidable decisions or trying to sort out perplexing circumstances. Joseph’s story provides a slight glimmer of hope for any and all who feel stuck, unable to see the next step or dreading the next step that seems to be the only way to go. Don’t rush to action. Pray, think, consider. And after you’ve done that – sleep on it.

This is not to say that an angel will appear in your dream. And this is not an excuse for passive neglect or inaction. This is simply a word of hope. There is a way forward. There is a way out. There is grace to be found. 

But sometimes grace begins where you end. Wait on the Lord and take the words of the angel to heart. Do not be afraid.

Prayer:

Bring us to the end of ourselves, O God, that we might find the grace we need in these days. Guard us from thoughtless and rash action; help us to think well and pray deeply as we seek to follow you in every aspect of our living. Come and show us the way – for whatever we face. We ask in Jesus’ name. Amen     

But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit (Matthew 1:20).  

My introduction to the world of middle school wrestling was a baptism by fire.

I’ve learned that here in the Lehigh Valley kids can start wrestling at an early age. In Georgia, wrestling programs at school didn’t begin until the sixth grade. My son was a new wrestler, and I was a new wrestling parent. My son’s first tournament was my first tournament too. The coach had sent an email to prepare the parents. “This will be the longest day of our season.”

My son lost his first match. At least one more to go. His next match was placed on the schedule, and we had about an hour of waiting. He won that time.

The next match was placed on the schedule. More waiting. Then he won again.

His next match was placed on the schedule followed by still more waiting. And then he won yet again.

After more waiting, when my phone battery was nearly dead, he had his fifth match of the day – and that’s when it ended for him. That day I learned that it’s a good idea to bring a charger cord to a wrestling tournament. And I learned that in a wrestling tournament, good wrestling and long waiting are a package deal.

Grappling with God

The story of Joseph’s discovery of Mary’s pregnancy is a wrestling story. Mary is pledged to Joseph, the marital commitment in place without the full benefits and living arrangements of the marital relationship. This is when Joseph discovers that Mary is pregnant. And this is when the wrestling begins, unseen and yet strenuous. Joseph grappling with God, grappling with his own heart and mind.

Again, Matthew shows us none of this except to say that Joseph “considered” how he could divorce Mary quietly and thus protect her from public disgrace. But can such “considering” be anything less than anguish and pain? How long did he “consider?” How many sleepless nights? How many bitter questions hurled at heaven? How many tense conversations with his beloved? 

And even once the Angel has appeared and Joseph has taken Mary as is wife, the difficulties are hardly over. Craig Keener notes that Joseph’s decision to go ahead with his marriage was a decision to sacrifice his own reputation. The wrestling surely didn’t stop.

Wrestling mingled with waiting until the birth in the Bethlehem stable.

Escaping the Headlock

Many of us come to Advent wrestling and waiting; life has us in a headlock and we’re trying desperately to find the right move that will loosen its grip. With the Psalmist we ask, “How long must I wrestle with my thoughts?” (Ps. 13:2). Christmas doesn’t change the fact that we’re wrestling with decisions that need to be made, decisions we wish could make over again, afflicted bodies, conflicted relationships and competing expectations. We wrestle through one challenge only to face another.

God sent a messenger to Joseph – an angel to coach him out of the tight spot in which he found himself. Let these words resonate deeply in your own soul today. Do not be afraid. God is at work to save. His purposes are not thwarted by what we never saw coming or what we cannot understand. Most importantly, in all things God is with us.  

In the midst of the wrestling, Joseph’s and ours, there is this assurance: The Holy Spirit is at work. To see it may require waiting, long waiting and still more wrestling. But God is active in your wrestling story.

What are you wrestling with today? Be patient in the struggle, confident in the good purposes and guidance of Emmanuel – “God with us.”

Prayer:

Grant to us, O God, the patience to trust you in all things and the strength to wrestle long until we see your hand at work. Show your hand in the difficult situations, the perplexing questions, the stubborn circumstances that refuse to budge. Be present with us in the struggles of this day, making us confident as we wrestle and wait in Jesus’ name. Amen.

And Mary said, “Behold I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38).

As Luke introduces us to Mary, he tells us a story in which Mary has very little to say.

Most of the talking is done by the angel Gabriel. As Marnie observed in her message at Grace Church this past Sunday, the angel’s words speak to the lonely, the fearful, and the hopeless.

To the lonely . . . “The Lord is with you.”

To the anxious and fearful . . . “Be not afraid.” 

To the hopeless . . . “Nothing is impossible with God.”

Gabriel has figured prominently in Luke’s gospel, having already appeared to Zechariah in much the same way as he appears to Mary. Gabriel – as we might expect of God’s messenger – carries the major speaking role in the drama. Mary only speaks twice.

She asks a question (“How can this be?”).  

And she speaks a prayer (“Let it be to me according to your word”).

Don’t miss that. Our questions and prayers belong together. Good questions make the stuff of good honest prayers. “How can it be” and “let it be done” make good neighbors.

“How Can This Be?” 

It’s worth pondering that both Zechariah and Mary responded to Gabriel’s message with a question. Mary’s “How can this be” is matched by Zechariah’s “How can I be sure of this?”

We see that Zechariah’s question was an unwillingness to believe (1:20). We get no trace of that in Mary. Understandably, Mary is “greatly troubled.” The NLT Bible describes her as “confused and disturbed” (1:29). Her question is not resistance, but true wonderment.

The story of Mary is the story of a literal conception. Cells divided. An embryo took shape in her womb and a heart began to beat. Fingers and toes, chin and nose, the body of a boy. This was Jesus. This was the body of the one whose mouth would speak God’s thoughts and whose touch would heal. This was the body that would one day be crucified.

We ask Mary’s question: “How can this be?” The answer we receive in scripture ignores cellular biology. This happens by the Spirit and Power of God. At the creation of the world, the Spirit hovered over chaos and brought forth life. In Mary’s womb the Spirit came with power and created life. In Mary we see a perfectly legitimate question. And yet, her question never gets in the way of faith and trust.

“Let It Be as You Say” 

Gabriel may get all the good lines in the dialogue. But Mary gets the last word. After her questions, after Gabriel’s very brief answer about the Holy Spirit and the power of the Most High, Mary yields herself to what she cannot fully understand. She never insists on being able to make sense of what God is doing. She questions but she doesn’t interrogate. She stands before God with open hands and a willing heart.

“Behold I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (1:38 ESV). The NLT again is helpful here: “May everything you have said about me come true.”

Mary is all in. Even with her questions. 

In Mary we see the model of a prayerful life. We may not know exactly what God’s will is. We do not always receive assurances as to what will happen and explanations as to how. We lay the matter that concerns us before Jesus and we leave it there, knowing that he will do what is good, even if we still have questions.  

Now it’s your turn. What matter do you bring before Jesus today?

What will you leave with him trusting that whatever he does will be good?

What are you facing that eludes figuring out, refusing a clear answer or resolution?

Listen carefully to Mary and borrow her prayer, confident that God will do what is good. Ask your questions and open your hands.

All in. 

Prayer:

Do what you will to do, Lord God. In the midst of what we cannot understand or figure out, teach us to trust you, knowing that “You are good and what you do is good” (Psalm 119:68). We come before you today with our honest questions. And we come with yielded hearts, praying in Jesus’ name. Amen.

In the sixth month God sent the angel Gabriel . . . to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David (Luke 1:26-27).

‘Tis the season for making plans.

Family plans, travel plans, social plans, financial plans to undergird our gift-giving plans. Plans are a necessary part of Christmas, and one of the most enjoyable. Plans give shape to our anticipation. Plans keep words like joy and love from being mere abstractions or nice platitudes. Plans embody our highest hopes and best intentions.

But there are times when the plans we make and the Christmas we actually live through bear no resemblance to each other. Travel is thwarted, someone in the family gets sick, relational tensions intensify, financial constraints force restraint. Christmas – perhaps more than any season of the year – teaches us to hold our plans loosely.

Living with Our Hands Open  

Mary was a young woman with plans. These plans weren’t private property, something she had cooked up in her own mind. The plans that Mary had were made for her at some point; by the agreement of the parents involved she was pledged to be married to Joseph. We have no reason to believe that Mary was forced into this plan. This is how marriages took place in her world. The plans made for her were her plans too.

We know enough about that time and place to know that being pledged to Joseph brought with it other plans: plans for making a home and having a family, plans that sound very much like the kinds of things we plan for ourselves today.

And then God sent the angel Gabriel to announce a new plan. “You will be with child and give birth to a son” (Lk. 2:31). So much for Mary’s plan.   

Mary, while perplexed and troubled by the angel’s words, humbly gives herself to a plan not of her own making, a plan she never imagined. She is a remarkable woman: direct and honest, bold and humble. Mary models for us a life of trust and risk. She stands before God with her hands open, not clutching at the life she had in mind for herself.

Mary reminds us that God is not an idea to be debated or a concept to be discussed. God is a living personal presence who shows up and makes a claim on our life. In Gabriel’s words to Mary, we can listen to that claim. And more importantly we can listen to Mary’s answer.

Plans and Purposes

Proverbs 19:21 says “Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” This wisdom invites us to ponder the relationship between our plans and God’s purposes. Plans are what we make, creating lists, keeping a calendar, managing various commitments. Purposes are greater than plans. Purposes are what our plans aim at, giving them meaning.

When we plan well, there’s a congruence between our plans and God’s purposes. What we see in Mary’s story, however, is that God’s purposes may at times change our plans. We really can’t live well without making plans. And we can’t live well by resisting or ignoring God’s purposes.    

What kind of plans are you making for the coming weeks?

What is the purpose beneath your plans?

What purposes do you think God might have for you in this Advent season? 

Prayer:

We invite you even now, O God, to show up in our plans according to your will and purposes. Keep us alert in this season of the year, ready to be surprised and perhaps even troubled at your claim on us. Make us ready and willing to answer you with trusting hearts, we pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

The angel went to her and said “Greetings, you who are highly favored! . . . Mary was troubled at his words (Luke 1:28-29).

Before Gabriel spoke Mary’s name, he called her “favored.”

Her name is spoken later as the angel tries to reassure Mary and give some definition what this favor looks like and what it means. What’s notable is that Mary’s proper name is only spoken once (1:30). The designation “favored” is spoken twice (1:28, 30).

This is true of all of us: grace defines life far more than a name or title.

Mary is favored by God. That sounds good, doesn’t it? What could be better than being told – by an angel no less – that you are favored by God, that God is inclined toward you, takes notice of you and directs his blessing toward you? God’s favor sounds like a very good thing indeed.

God’s Favor on Our Terms 

I’d be perfectly willing to be numbered among the favored ones because in my mind God’s favor would look like this: good health, a flourishing family life, meaningful and satisfying work, money for what I need and occasionally for things beyond that. To me, God’s favor means tangible experiences of blessing.     

In other words, God’s favor means a good life as I’ve defined it.

What strikes me about Mary’s story is her response to God’s favor. Mary, the favored one, is troubled at Gabriel’s greeting. The NIV Bible says, “greatly troubled.” The Amplified Bible says she was “greatly perplexed,” while the NLT renders the phrase “confused and disturbed.” After Gabriel’s first attempt at an explanation, Mary still has questions. God’s favor comes to Mary as something disturbing, perplexing, confusing.

Mary’s story teaches us that God’s favor doesn’t mean getting the life we want. God’s favor means being summoned to a life we never imagined. God’s favor and our comfort have little to do with each other; they are not the same thing.

God With Us

I take encouragement from Mary’s response to God’s favor: troubled, perplexed. Maybe you can too. Most of us know what it is to face something that has us confused and unsettled. We know what it is to struggle to make sense of what we’re living through. God’s favor may rest on you right now, but you don’t know it. If we define God’s “favor” strictly on our terms, it’s probably easy to miss.

If we look ahead in the nativity story, we see Mary and Joseph, about nine months after Gabriel’s appearance, making their way to Bethlehem from Nazareth. Mary knows she could have her baby very soon – but she isn’t at home, near her own bed, with friends and family nearby. She’s making an 80-mile journey on a donkey, possibly frightened and miserable, hoping for a decent place to stay. This hardly looks like being favored.    

But maybe Joseph reminded Mary of his dream. Their child is “Immanuel . . . God with us.”

And perhaps that is the true meaning of God’s favor: his faithful presence with us in whatever it is that has us perplexed and disturbed. Take heart, all you who are troubled. There’s favor to be found in what you can’t seem to sort through or figure out. In whatever that might be for you today, God is with you.

And you too are favored.

Prayer:

God, we thank you for your grace and favor. We give you thanks for the many different ways your favor comes to us. Teach us to look for your favor in what troubles us and not simply in what we believe would make for our own happiness. We would be a listening and trusting people today, in reliance upon your Spirit. We ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.   

Zechariah asked the angel, “How can I be sure of this? I am an old man, and my wife is well along in years.”  (Luke 1:18).

“How can I be sure of this?”

Have you ever asked that question? Most of us probably have.

For the elderly priest Zechariah, this was the question that crossed the line. The angel Gabriel had appeared to Zechariah to deliver a message from God. After all, that’s what angels do. In scripture you’ll never find angels showing up just to show off. No, angels show up because God has something to say. Angel means ‘messenger,’ and angelic appearances call for obedient listening. 

Zechariah, however, responded to the angel with a question, timid and hesitant. He wanted to be sure. He needed certainty. This questioning provoked Gabriel to render the priest mute. The question exposed something of the condition of Zechariah’s heart, a heart in which fear overshadowed faith.

A Sure Thing

Many of us have asked this same question, or one very much like it. We know in our minds and we say with our words that there are no guarantees in life, but we live our days looking for a guarantee. The margin of uncertainty must never be too wide. We’ll do whatever it takes to eliminate the variables. We want to know that things will work out just so, unfold according to plan. We want a sure thing. 

As a priest, Zechariah had been chosen for the one duty that would fall to him only once in his lifetime.  He was chosen by lot – by the providence of God – to offer incense in the temple.  In the middle of this sacred moment, the angel Gabriel appeared and announced that Zechariah and Elizabeth would have a son.  Like some other well-known stories from the Hebrew Scriptures, Zechariah and Elizabeth are old and they’ve never been able to have a child.

Gabriel breaks the news with a powerful sentence.  “Your prayer has been heard.”

That’s exactly what we have a hard time believing.  Especially when it comes to something over which we have prayed long and wept much, an area of life that God has been slow to bless. The day finally comes when our prayers become little more than occasional thoughts that leave our eyes dry.

No Bypass

And then one day, with stunning suddenness, there’s an announcement that all those prayers have been heard, that they were heard all along. Not only have they been heard, they are being answered. God is up to something.  That’s what happened to Zechariah.  And his response?

“How can I be sure of this?” 

We’re not surprised by this question. We sympathize with Zechariah because we’d want to know the same thing.  You may be asking the same question right now about some part of your life.  How can you be sure?  How can you know that God is at work in that tender place in your life?

Here’s the short answer: You can’t be completely sure. To walk with God is to walk by faith.

Our quest for certainty exposes our struggle to trust. God has spoken promises to us in his word, but those promises are embraced by faith, by believing. God does not allow us the luxury of bypassing trust.      

Gabriel’s appearance to Zechariah forces us to think about our fears as we enter this Advent season.

Is there an area of life in which you’ve been waiting for certainty, for the narrowest margin of risk? 

What do your fears look like these days? Name them right now. And then leave them with our faithful promise-keeping God.  

Prayer:

Gracious God, something inside of me craves certainty.  Sometimes my desire to be sure masks a hesitancy to trust you.  Today I bring my fears before you.  I name each one and ask you to teach me what it means to walk by faith. Give me the grace of risk-taking courage in this Advent season, I ask in Jesus’ name.  Amen.  

But the angel said to him: “Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John” (Luke 1:13).

When an angel shows up while you’re minding your own business, it might take you a while to fully grasp all that it means. But one thing is certain: you’ll never forget it. It’s a story you’ll treasure for the rest of your life.

How many times had Zechariah come home from his priestly work to be greeted yet again with a familiar question from his young son?

“Daddy, did you see Gabriel today?”

The question really wasn’t a question at all. It was an invitation to tell a story. A story that John had heard before but never grew weary of hearing again. A story that defined the man he would become. A story that Zechariah never grew tired of telling.  

The Hiding Place of the Holy

With every telling the moment was as real and stunning as the day it happened. Zechariah would tell about the once in a lifetime chance to offer incense on behalf of the people; he would vividly describe the startling appearance of an angel next to the altar; he would recount the angel’s announcement that Elizabeth would bear a child.  

John relished every detail. Zechariah was the storyteller, but John always glanced toward his mother when it came to the part about how she had never been able to have a child. There was something about the way his mother smiled at that part. Her face was very old, but her delight in that piece of the drama made her seem so much younger than her age, almost girlish again.

With every telling of the story, John learned something about his parents. But most importantly, John learned something about God. 

The story of Gabriel’s appearance taught John that God shows up in unexpected ways in the most unexpected places. He learned that barren places are often the hiding place of the Holy, that wilderness places are the stage for divine drama. Maybe that’s why John went to the desert when he grew up. His pursuit of God took him to the wilderness place.

And John learned something about prayer. He heard how for many years his mom and dad prayed fervently for a baby. But with the passing of time the fervency of that prayer had waned until it eventually gave way to a quiet resignation to a child-less life.

Until that day when Gabriel showed up in the temple. “Do not be afraid Zechariah; your prayer has been heard” (Lk. 1:13).  

With God there is no statute of limitations on a prayer. And God is perfectly willing to answer the prayer you’ve given up on.

No Wasted Prayers

Perhaps today there’s a prayer you’ve stopped praying. Maybe there’s a prayer you’ve uttered more times than you count, for longer than you can remember. Maybe fervency and expectancy has leaked out of those prayers. They’ve become occasional reminders to God, nothing more. We learn to live with a certain amount of desolation: desolate career, desolate relationships, desolate dreams, desolate health.

We are afraid to believe that the slightest sprig of life will ever emerge from those places.

But Gabriel’s message to Zechariah teaches us exactly what it taught John. No prayer is wasted, and God is at work in the barren places of our lives. What we need is courage to go to the desert. What desolate place in your life have you learned to ignore or tolerate?

God has a way of showing up in the places we’ve given up on. What prayer have you stopped praying? Remember, God has a way of showing up in lifeless places and in surprising ways.

Where is that place for you today?

Prayer:

Once again, O Lord, I bring the barren places of my life before you.  Give me courage to wait on you there knowing that you delight to show up in surprising ways in the places I’ve given up on. Meet me in those places during this Advent season, I ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

“I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I was sent to speak to you and bring you this good news” (Luke 1:19).

Angels never make appointments.

Never do we find in the pages of scripture an instance when someone wrote “angel visitation” in their calendar. True, the Bible also says nothing about people keeping a calendar – but you get the point. Angel appearances are never planned or anticipated. Those to whom they appear and to whom they speak are always startled, unsettled, if not downright scared to death at the encounter.

Angel visitations can be found in both the Old and New Testaments, although we might not describe them as frequent. Furthermore, we need to recognize that angels are a specific kind of spiritual being. They are not the same as the six-winged Cherubim we see in Isaiah’s temple vision (Isaiah 6). But that’s getting a little deep in the weeds. For our purposes in the weeks ahead, we’re recognizing that the stories surrounding the birth of Jesus are loaded with angel appearances.

We can’t tell the Christmas story without speaking of and hearing from angels. These visitations will be our focus in the coming weeks of Advent.

Christmas Angels

We’ll be looking at four instances when God sent an angel to prepare for or announce the birth of Jesus.

We begin this week with Gabriel’s appearance to Zechariah. Before Jesus would begin his public ministry, his cousin John would prepare the way by calling people to repentance and baptizing them in the Jordan river. Gabriel appeared to announce John’s birth to his elderly dad, Zechariah. More on that story later this week.

Next, we will look at Gabriel’s appearance to Mary. We know this story so well – or we think we do. Mary, just like Zechariah, is disturbed at the angel’s message. Her response, however, is quite different from Zechariah’s.

This will be followed by the angel’s appearance to Joseph. Interestingly, this angel appears to Joseph in a dream. But the impact of the message is no less real for Jospeh than for Zechariah or Mary.

Finally, on Christmas Eve, we will hear the familiar words of the angel who makes an appearance to shepherds “watching over their flock by night.” This angel is accompanied by a choir of the heavenly host. “Glory to God in the Highest.”

God Is Up to Something

The point of this Advent series is not really about the angels. The writer to the Hebrews remarks that we might possibly “entertain angels unawares” (Heb. 13:2). But the point of these Sunday messages and weekly reflections is not to have you looking over your shoulder, snooping out the angels among us.

What we most need to understand about angels is heard in Gabriel’s words to Zechariah. “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I was sent to speak to you and bring you this good news” (Luke 1:19).

Angels stand in God’s presence, always in worship, attending to God’s voice.

Angels are God’s messengers, sent to speak God’s words.

In her Sunday message at Grace Church, Marnie said that angels remind us that “God is up to something.” God is actively at work in this world. God intervenes in our lives and works through us to accomplish his purposes.           

So here’s an invitation to you as Advent begins: Pay attention.

God is up to something. What might God be up to in the specific setting of your life – and how might God want to work through you?

Prayer:

Gracious God, by your Spirit make us open to the ways you are at work around us. In this Advent season keep us attentive to your words and ready to walk in your ways, we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.