A Time for Miracles - Isaiah 7:10-16; Matthew 1:18-25
To piggyback off of Kate’s sermon last week, I am a sucker for Hallmark holiday films. I love a snowy bed and breakfast on the brink of bankruptcy, still decorated to the nines for the holidays, complete with a precocious child ready to play matchmaker for the two disenchanted main characters. And, I love this same story copied and pasted onto a bakery, or a castle, or even a tropical resort. I am the target audience for this film genre, because I love a sweet, low-stakes love story. I love holiday music in the background. But most of all, I love the idea of the Christmas miracle.
Whether it’s an angel getting his wings, Santa making it all the way around the world in one night, or two lovers finding each other against all odds at the eleventh hour, I love the idea that Christmas is a time when miracles are possible and expected. The Hallmark Channel may have taken this concept to the outer reaches of the spiritual realm, but at its heart, the Christmas Miracle is based in deep and powerful theology, and its story begins even before the Incarnation of Christ.
Today we meet Ahaz. He’s the king of Judah, and he lives in its capital, Jerusalem. Judah is surrounded by military threats on all sides. The powerful Assyrians are conquering smaller kingdoms left and right, and it feels inevitable that Judah will succumb to their power eventually. But some of the neighboring kingdoms who have already been conquered, including Israel to the north, are mounting a rebellion, and pressuring Ahaz and his Judeans to join their cause, threatening violence if otherwise. Ahaz is faced with a tough choice: submit to the Assyrians or join the rebellion - and there are lethal consequences either way.
Isaiah, revered prophet and one of Ahaz’s advisors, can see that this political and military stress has taken a toll on Ahaz’s faith. He can see that Ahaz is no longer as sure as he once was that God will protect and guide him. He feels the weight of the world on his shoulders. He feels that the fate of his people rests on him and him alone. Isaiah tries to encourage Ahaz. Ask for help, he says. Tell God what you need. Ask for a sign that God is still with you.
But Ahaz cannot bring himself to take Isaiah’s advice. He claims that he doesn’t want to test God. But as a connoisseur of obstinance myself, I recognize stubbornness and fear of failure when I see it. Ahaz cannot admit, even to God, that he is desperate. And he cannot admit to Isaiah, or perhaps to himself, that he’s afraid God won’t answer, because he’s afraid God isn’t there.
Like a mother who has no time for her hard-headed children who don’t know what’s best for them, Isaiah says to Ahaz, “Don’t walk away from me. Look at me when I’m talking to you. God is always with you. You may not want to ask for God’s help, but God is going to give it to you anyway.” And then Isaiah drops what might be my favorite truth bomb in all of scripture. “You want a miracle?” He asks. “I’ll show you a miracle: a woman giving birth, that is a miracle. Bringing new life in the world from a broken yet beautiful body, and seeing the presence of God in that child is simply miraculous”
Isaiah continues, “all of these political conflicts that you think define you and determine the fate of your people, none of them will last. In a couple of years time, you won’t even remember why you were so concerned with them. But a woman giving birth and the child she bears will continue to be miraculous always. Don’t look away from the miracle.” Isaiah’s words leap across time and space and speak to us today. It’s been roughly 2,022 years give or take, but a poor, unmarried, immigrant woman giving birth in a barn, and the child she bore, were and continue to be a miracle that we should not look away from.
When we do not feel God’s presence as near to us as we’d like, when we are stubborn and proud and don’t want to ask for help, when we feel the weight of our world on our shoulders and in our hard-headedness refuse to turn towards God, Advent comes along, year after year, and reminds us, don’t look away from the miracle of the child that is coming into the world and continues to break into our lives every day. It may not feel magical like Santa or cozy like a holiday rom-com, but it is the clearest sign from God that God is among us. We are not alone.
Speaking of holiday romance, if we’re going to talk about love stories, I don’t think it can get much better than Mary and Joseph. Joseph had all the makings of a romcom villain. He had a spotless reputation and a plan to privately break up with our pregnant leading lady and avoid any consequences. But thanks to his dream, Joseph became the man of our dreams. An angel of the Lord came to him while he slept and said to him, “Joseph, this women is your miracle. Do not look away from her.” And so he didn’t. He committed his life to Mary and cared for her and her child. He loved them both and through them came to understand that God was with him. Hallmark could never.
As the days get shorter, it can feel as though, like the sunlight, we too are being squeezed into a tiny container that cannot possibly hold us. When we run low on attention and energy this time of year, often the first thing to go is our hope. We become like Ahaz with the weight of the world on our shoulders and no room in our hearts or minds or bodies for faith in God’s grace and mercy.
But the lesson of Advent is this. Even if there’s room for nothing else, we should always make space for hope, for expectation, for Christ breaking into the world and into our lives when we need it most. We should never look away from the miracle. Hallmark holiday films definitely get this part right. Christmas is a time for miracles. A woman giving birth is always a miracle. Mary giving birth to Immanuel, God with us, is our Christmas miracle. Amen.