Answering God’s Call Luke 1:26-38
Our Gospel text for today is generally referred to as the Annunciation, meaning the announcement of the impending birth of the Messiah, and it is definitely that—and more. It is also Mary’s call story. Although call stories don’t usually include conversations with angels, let alone an archangel who provides his name, miraculous birth announcements usually do come from angels. In this story, Gabriel is doing double duty. He is announcing the birth of the Messiah, and calling Mary, a teenager of about 13 or 14 years, to serve God in a very particular role—as the Mother of Jesus, the only begotten Son of God.
Mary is confused by the angel’s presence, and the notion that she is favored by God. She is an ordinary girl. None of the Gospels indicate she comes from a wealthy or important family. She knows, just as we do, that according to the Jewish scriptures, angels seldom appear to women, much less children or teenage girls. She listens to the message, and as most people who receive such a call, she asks a clarifying question. She doesn’t ask “Why?”, or “Why me?” She doesn’t argue or object, like the prophets usually do. She doesn’t even ask when. In fact, her one question suggests that she assumes this is all to take effect pretty much immediately. She just asks, “How? How can this happen?”
Either Mary’s mother hasn’t had that talk with her—you know the one I mean—the “what happens on the wedding night talk” or Mary expects this to occur almost immediately, before her marriage is to be consummated. Gabriel’s response doesn’t really provide a clear answer, but the process doesn’t seem to involve Joseph. The angel doesn’t just answer and leave. He offers Mary a sign, which she never asked for, and tells her nothing is impossible for God, as reasons to believe the message, to trust God. Then Gabriel waits for Mary to either accept or refuse the call.
My call story doesn’t involve an angel, and I wasn’t called until I was about forty. I first heard it about twenty years ago, when my family was living in Idaho. We had 5 kids. I had been leading worship, teaching and overseeing the Sunday school program, and I had written and directed a children’s Christmas program. I had done nearly all of these things before, beginning at about the same age as Mary, but never all at once. I received no dream, no vision. I didn’t hear the voice of God calling to me in the night. It was just a feeling, a desire I had begun to experience—a notion I couldn’t shake. It just felt right, like it was what I was meant to do. Kevin and I had just gone to bed, and I decided to tell him about it. “Sometimes I wonder if, maybe, I missed my calling—that maybe I was supposed to be a pastor.”
Kevin, bless his heart, didn’t stop to silently consider his next words. Without missing a single beat, he replied, “You know, I’ve been thinking the same thing. I think you’d make a great pastor.” After talking about it for a little while, we agreed to look into the possibility of me becoming attending seminary.
We spent a few weeks of googling, looking into seminaries and talking to someone who had just graduated from seminary. The nearest one was a Methodist seminary 755 miles away in Seattle, WA. The nearest ELCA seminary was 800 miles away in California. At that time, seminaries were only just beginning to offer partially online programs, and even then, students were required to spend three months or more on campus each year, which wasn’t feasible with 5 young kids at home, and the cost was equally impossible. So, just like Mary, we asked, “How is this possible?” We didn’t get an answer, so we just agreed to keep praying, asking God for direction, a clearly marked path to follow.
Sometimes we receive our calling well in advance. Often there is a journey required, and the road we must travel is long and winding and full of potholes, and the destination is unclear. Every call, every journey is unique.
Mary went straight to her cousin, Elizabeth, to confirm the sign, and maybe, to get an idea of what she had just signed up for. She stayed three months, and it seems she was with child when she returned.
About two years later, we moved to Rochester. Both Kevin and I had taken research positions at Mayo Clinic, having tabled the idea that I could start seminary until God sent a messenger who could supply a clear road map, and funds for tuition. I was focused on setting up house, getting the kids adjusted to new schools, and the new baby into daycare, and of course, learning the ropes at my new job. That winter my dad was diagnosed with a fatal disease and sent home to die. I took a month off from my new job to help Mom care for him at the end, and help with funeral arrangements. Seminary fell off my radar.
I’m embarrassed to admit it, but it took about five years for me to realize that God had planted me in the neighborhood of Luther Seminary. I remember that I was actually looking at Luther’s web page when I got a call from my doctor. She said I had cancer. Suddenly there was a giant obstacle in my path, and there was no getting around it. Every time I got past one roadblock, another cropped up. My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease three years later, and we brought her home to live with us.
I wanted to give up. I tried to give up, but that call God had put on my heart just kept tugging at me. The more I tried to convince myself it wasn’t real, that I had been mistaken, the harder it tugged at me. Worst of all, I felt this terrible guilt over my inability to just drop everything and follow the call. That’s what I had always been taught you’re supposed to do. That’s what Peter, Andrew, James and John and all the other disciples did. They didn’t hesitate. Neither did Mary. I had become certain that, even if I could find a way to pay for it, the seminary wouldn’t take me, because I hadn’t just jumped in blindly. And now I was much older, and doubted whether my brain could handle the curriculum, especially the languages, even if I could get accepted. I still didn’t know how the process worked, and I still had no way to pay for school.
Answering God’s call is seldom easy. You really have to be sure of your calling, dedicated, determined and committed to seeing it through. It wasn’t easy for Mary either. Mary’s pregnancy was a scandal. Joseph almost divorced her. Jesus was born in a barn, far from their home. Herod would hunt them. They would flee to Egypt as refugees to protect him. And many would whisper about the likelihood that Jesus was actually illegitimate, and therefore not descended from David, not the true Messiah. And eventually, Mary would watch her son suffer and die on a Roman cross like a criminal.
Once my mom’s condition worsened enough that we had to put her in a memory care facility, everything changed. My pastor drove me up to the seminary, and stood by for moral support as I told the story of my long journey to get there. To my surprise, they didn’t scold me or judge me as I feared. Instead, they affirmed my calling. They told me that God’s call doesn’t just magically remove all my earthly responsibilities. And they told me that God’s call doesn’t ever expire, nor does it ever disappear. Then they told me they could provide a scholarship to cover my full tuition for the duration of my schooling. They explained everything and sent me to the synod to start the candidacy process. The rest was a crazy roller coaster ride, that is, until now.
God knew what was in store for me at every stop on this journey. I just needed to live my life, patiently, until the time was right. Easier said than done, of course. The call was like a seed planted in my heart that stubbornly continued to grow so that I would be ready to do what was necessary when the time was right—ready for God’s crazy four-year roller coaster ride.
Everyone has a call story. And everyone’s call story is as unique as they are. Answering any call requires a journey. But just like Mary’s calling, every calling comes with promises that God fulfills along the way: the promise to equip us for the mission ahead, and the promise to accompany us and support us along the way.
Looking back now, I realize that I had different callings at different stages of my life. I was called to be a teacher, a mother, a wife, a scientist, a musician, and now a pastor. But that may not be the end. Even when I retire at age 75, God may still have another task for me to do. And who can guess what that might be? Mary was called to motherhood, to bring Jesus into the world, and to raise him so that he would be properly prepared for his mission. Scripture doesn’t tell us, but I suspect that once Jesus was grown and following God’s plan for him, that Mary was called to be a disciple alongside the rest and maybe an apostle as well. Or maybe God called her to other mission work within the new church.
But that’s enough about me, and Mary. Now it’s your turn. I want to hear your call stories. Whether you realize it or not, each of you has been called to some form of service as part of the Priesthood of All Believers. Each and every one of you has been equipped with unique gifts, including both strengths and weaknesses for specific tasks or missions at various points in life. So, I want to know, what is God calling you to do now? What is tugging at your heart, urging you to respond somehow? How has the Holy Spirit equipped you to respond? Where and when do you feel God’s presence? Or hear the Spirit whispering? Where is Christ inviting you to follow? How and where are you using your gifts? Listen to your heart, give in to that tugging and pulling sensation. If Jesus is calling, waiting for an answer, tell him, “Here I am, Lord. I am ready and willing. Send me.”