2011-12-18–She Said Yes

She said, “Yes.”

 He stood before her. Stock still and silent. He had completed his mission. He had delivered God’s words. Would she answer with unbelief as Zechariah did six months earlier? He didn’t know. So he waited while she wondered.

He wasn’t the only one. All creation paused, waiting for its future would be determined by the words of a 14 year-old girl. Behind him, invisible and near numberless angels strained their heavenly ears praying that God’s plan would not be frustrated yet again. Around him, the birds stopped their song and even the trees seemed to be listening as the spring zephyrs stilled. Everyone and everything was waiting. Anticipating. Worrying. . . .

They all had good reason to be sceptical, he knew. He knew God’s history with God’s people had been one of stops and starts. And, frankly, one of more stops than starts. What was God doing when he chose Abraham? It wasn’t the first time he’d allowed himself to ask the question. But now, here, in front of her, it intruded again in to his consciousness of its own accord. “Why him?” he asked himself. “I mean, he says he believes the promise and then tries to manipulate it into coming to pass on his own terms by sleeping with Hagar and fathering Ishmael.” He knew that God’s ways were beyond him. But his own experience drove him to conclude that humans in general were fickle if nothing else. And Abraham was no exception.

No wonder the people he fathered weren’t any better. It was hard-wired into them. After 400 years of slavery, he thought, they should have been happy that God had delivered them. After seeing the plagues God brought upon hard-hearted Pharaoh and the ruthless Egyptians, after seeing the God of Abraham Isaac and Jacob confound the not-gods of the Egyptians, they should have trusted that God would have gotten them across the Sea of Reeds. But no. At the first sign of trouble, they wanted to go back to slavery. Their yes to God was quickly eclipsed by their no.

And still, God stuck with them. He took them across the sea and into the desert. God brought them to Sinai to renew the covenant that he’d made with Abraham. And what did they do? They made a calf and dared to give it his name and made ready to go back to Egypt again, their idol leading them. He remembered God’s conversation with Moses. Moses was the best of a poor bunch, but when God offered to create a new people, to start again with him, Moses declined. Moses had the audacity to remind God of his promises. As if God needed reminding from a human! The messenger smiled to himself. Looking back now, it seemed to him that the conversation had more to do God testing Moses than with God giving up on the people.

No. God, rejected again, didn’t give up. Instead, he brought them to the land of promise. Right to the edge of success. And again, they said no. “There were giants and walled cities and powerful armies and we’ll just stay in the wilderness, thanks very much for all your help.” Ungrateful didn’t begin to describe their attitude. What more would God have to do to get and keep their attention? Their own prophets called them stiff-necked. Hard hearted. And they could only see the span of one lifetime. “I’ve been seeing this stuff for centuries.” He thought.  “And nothing ever changes. It was always more of the same. Always God having to intervene. Always the people starting out with the best of intentions. Always the story ending with one more ‘NO!’ to God’s invitation.”

He was going to get angry if he continued to reminisce. And not just angry. He was beginning to wonder if his own obedience had been futile. Why exactly did God send me here? Why exactly did God send me to her? He was beginning to doubt.

But so what? There was good reason to doubt. When they finally made it into the land, they did what was right in their own eyes. No matter how many enemies they faced, no matter how many judges God raised up to deliver them, their obedience was half-hearted and their word was worthless. They even thought the Ark was a weapon of war, as though the Creator of heaven and earth was just like those not-gods of the nations. And they lost it. What would it take for them to learn that God was not theirs to control? What would it take for them to learn that in the relationship he established with them, he made and kept promises, but was not and never would be manipulated by their piety?

The kings? They were no better. David couldn’t keep his family in line let alone the people. Solomon? God blessed him beyond any other ruler and how did he thank God? He built God’s temple and then filled it with idols. But the worst thing of all—he gave the Ark away. And the people lost the Law. Josiah tried to reform the people, but it was too late. These people didn’t care a whit about the God who had made a covenant with them. They thought their ethnicity and their land were badges of honor. They thought that because they were God’s, nothing would ever happen to them.

But even God’s patience has its limits. At least that’s what he thought at the time. After sending armies of prophets with words of warning, God finally sued for divorce. “About time,” he could remember thinking. First the Assyrians took the ten Northern tribes and scattered them. Then the Babylonians conquered the 2 southern tribes and destroyed the Temple. No Law. No Temple. No Land. The Covenant was broken. God’s people, God’s bride, had finally succeeded in driving away their divine lover. Time for God to start over.

At least that’s what the messenger wanted to see. “And if I were in charge, that’s what would have happened.” The voice was smooth and sweet. The messenger looked up. Standing just behind her left shoulder, another, apparently, also awaited her word.

“You know you won’t get anywhere with that old argument. We’ve had this conversation before. You chose your fate. I chose mine.” The messenger said.

“Admit it. You don’t get God’s plans either. And in your deepest thoughts, you’re not even sure God has one. Failure after failure after failure. Don’t you think he could have managed one success by now if he knew what he was doing?” There was a strange logic to his old friend’s words. But the messenger didn’t bite. “I rule this world now. And I rule it by fear and by force. Oh, it won’t be that way always. Just until I get it under my control. Once it is, I’ll give it back to him. And when God sees what I’ve been able to accomplish with it, he’ll let all of us come home. Remember, I did what I did because I loved him. I still do.”

“I don’t know what’s sadder,” the messenger really was angry now. “The fact that you can’t open your mind to me without lying, or the fact that you seem to believe your own lies. I don’t know what God’s up to. I confess to you and to him that I’ve got my doubts. But I trust him. I trust him to know what he’s doing. I trust that he has known all the way along.”

“Fool!” any pretence of civility was gone now. “You’re not trying to convince me. You’re trying to convince yourself.” Then, as quickly as the old anger flared, it was gone. “We’re not all that different, you and me. We think the same things. I have the courage to act on my thoughts. I will make this world come to order. I will bring it to rights. I will present a perfect world to him and then he’ll have to admit that I WAS RIGHT!”

The messenger smiled. “You need to work on keeping your mask on. What makes us different is not your courage. What makes us different is your pride.”

He was alone again.

She looked up, startled. Had she heard? The messenger knew that this conversation was not for human ears. He knew she didn’t physically hear it. But every once in a while, humans could read and hear things. Sometimes the veil between his world and hers was so thin—it certainly was so now—that otherwise hidden thoughts would penetrate the barrier. Perhaps that had just happened. She turned and looked just at the spot where he had been standing. Then back at him. She more puzzled now than before. And fearful. His shoulders sagged with relief when, a second later, she bowed her head and continued to think.

As he waited, he tried to put himself in her position. She knew so little—even less than he did—about what was going on. She was being asked to commit her entire life, to relinquish any hopes for herself she may have had, in order to be a servant. No, wait. That’s not right. Not a servant. The servant. God had called other people. He had even called younger people. But never to such a role. No one would ever be closer to Him. How could God lay this responsibility on a child?

No sooner had the question entered his mind than she caught his eye. Her gaze was soft and piercing at the same time. And the messenger knew that she knew who he was. She wasn’t just a girl anymore. She was regal, robed in the royalty of self-understanding and confidence, and a child’s simple trust in God. Cold as moonlight. Hard as diamonds. Soft as daisies in the spring. And as happy as any girl could ever be. All at the same time.

“I am God’s slave,” she said. “Let it be to me as you have spoken.”

The messenger was as dumbstruck as that old priest was six months ago. She said yes. He couldn’t quite believe the thought. She said yes. She said yes. This girl with no lineage. With no experience. With no remarkable piety. She said yes. Her voice. Her words. Her decision. She said yes. She agreed to the proposal. The messenger didn’t understand the ins and outs of all of it. How could she? And how could she agree to what she did not understand?

“She can because she trusts me, Gabriel. And you should, too.” He knew the Voice. And he smiled. “Why, you might even think that I had planned this all along. Now, watch.”

Her hands fluttered over her belly. She looked down. “Ooh!” She looked for the messenger, but she was alone. And she smiled. “Already?” she asked. “Nothing is impossible with God.”