“Then Mary said to the angel, ‘How will this happen since I haven’t had sexual relations with a man?’”
Luke 1:34 (Common English Bible)
While I was in college, I studied for a semester in Coventry, England. My dormitory room was in Kennedy House located on the campus of Coventry Cathedral. The clergy of the Cathedral were my faculty. Each Friday, at noon, I was required to participate in a brief service of worship in the ruins of the original Cathedral destroyed during the Second World War. Imagine that experience of worship with me. I gathered with a small number of people in the chancel area of the Cathedral, charred walls of the Cathedral embraced our worship. Brokenness was magnified by the destruction from a world at war. Yet, amid the visible brokenness, a pastor would take bread, give thanks to God, break the bread, and share that this bread was the bread of life for us. It was a remarkable contrast—visible brokenness to the eyes with a spoken promise of life.
Something like that is how the Christmas story began. There is an unanticipated pregnancy—“I haven’t had sexual relations with a man.” Then, as now, such a pregnancy shattered the respectability for the woman. Mary is poor but struggling to live by the rules of a respectable society. Then, the unexpected. An angel appears to Mary, and the message from the angel alarms her. There is a pregnancy, and now nothing makes sense. “How will this happen?” asked Mary. Life is already difficult for Mary. But now, due to no fault of Mary, everything has become worse. In that day, a woman found pregnant outside of marriage could be stoned to death. Loss of respectability is one thing. But the prospect of stoning now multiplied the brokenness except for one thing. Within the brokenness, there is the promise of life—not simply the life of an unborn child, but a child that would bring life to all people.
At this time of the year, people often ask the wrong questions of the Bible. The predominant question at Christmas is the implausibility of a pregnancy without a sexual relationship. Naturally, this is a scientific difficulty. Pregnancy always follows predictable rules. And right here in this teaching from Luke’s Gospel, the predictable rules are not at play. Yet, there really is nothing in this story that asks us to reduce it to scientific inquiry. That is the wrong question. According to this teaching, the right question is not a scientific one but, rather, a personal one. Mary is surprised. Surprised by an unexpected visit from an angel. Surprised to learn that she was about to receive something she was not anticipating. It is this element of surprise that is essential to reading this Christmas story correctly. God has intruded on Mary’s life.

No one welcomes brokenness. Life is disrupted, often with considerable woundedness. We may go to church to seek escape, to receive a word of inspiration, or to find a community that will embrace and love us. Yet, like that worship in the old Coventry Cathedral, brokenness remains, surrounding us on every side. We wring our hands about the conditions that have fallen on us. Perhaps we even ask, as Mary, why this has happened. We didn’t plan on any of this. But, if we are honest, neither did we plan on the serendipitous surprises of life that delighted us or the friendships that have nurtured and strengthened us. The Christmas message of Mary’s visit from the angel is that God is present amid the brokenness. We need only to pay attention. What we thought would be our ruin may be a new beginning filled with new life and the possibilities that life presents.
Joy,



