Grace to you and peace from our loving God, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

And Mary said, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word."

Let's think about this today. Think, for example, of Lady Gaga. In the tradition of Madonna (born Madonna Louise Ciccone), Lady Gaga (born Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta) employs flamboyant ways, outrageous costuming, and shameless self-promotion to create a highly marketable and memorable persona—and make lots of money. She has sold an estimated 23 million albums and 64 million singles worldwide, making her one of the best-selling music artists of all time. She has garnered four Guinness World Records, five Grammy Awards and thirteen MTV Video Music Awards. She is regularly named among the Artists of the Year, and is even considered one of the most influential people in the world by Time magazine. America is impressed with the flashy and the sensational.

We want things done with star quality. When corporations need to revamp their image, they call in the corporate "stars." As Hollywood plans its movies, they are touted as pictures "having proven star quality." We prefer the well-known name. And in many urban centers, people still take their lives in their hands when they wear the hottest name-brand clothing or shoes.

This stands in radically stark contrast to the way God gets things done.

Beginning with our lesson today, we could go down quite a list. Mary was probably in her teens, known to virtually no one. Except, of course, to relatives. Like someone who lives in Massachusetts, an unknown, but whose sister is Hillary Clinton.

Mary's relative, Elizabeth, was another nobody, another unknown pregnant woman. There is not another word even in scripture to help us know her. But then there was her husband.

Elizabeth's husband was Zechariah, but not the Zechariah who wrote the Old Testament book. In fact, if you look him up, he's one of at least 18 Zechariahs in scripture. One source lists his as the 34th of 35. He's a fellow who worked in the temple—as close as one can get to a nobody.

And what about Mary's husband? There might be a headline there. Once again, though, a common everyday nobody. He's a nice guy, but you don't get major projects done by nice guys. You need a person with clout, with a proven track record. In Joseph, we have a nice man who takes his family to Egypt and then simply disappears from scripture.

Well, if we're not dealing with Lady Gaga, maybe at least we're dealing with New Yorkers, people at the center of things. What did Micah say? "But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah, who are one of the little clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to rule in Israel." (Micah 5:2) Not the elite of New York. The whole clan that God set about using was nobody from nowhere. They were totally nondescript. And yet God chose to use them.

That could be said even more strongly. The truth is that God chooses to use nobodies. It's the way God tends to operate. Luther was a monk whose father was a coal miner. Calvin, Wesley, St. Benedict, St. Francis, Pope John XXIII. God does marvelous things, but with whom? People who are nobodies before God got hold of them.

It is fair to say that the pattern of God is to use the common and unremarkable. Why? Perhaps God uses ordinary people rather than the powerful so that all come to know that it is God's power rather than our prestige, God's good news rather than our position in life, that brings salvation. Paul said "For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. and I was with you in weakness and much trembling." God uses the weak and powerless, the nobody, the common.

Mary said, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word."

So, what does this habit of God mean for us? It means first that if we.re ordinary people, we're candidates to become the instruments of God, If God can use the 34^th of 35 Zechariahs, just a temple worker, then God can use us. If God can use a Mary or an Elizabeth, God can use us. God can, as with them, turn nobodies into the most important people of the time.

Martin Bell has caught the excitement and wonder and surprise of God's use of those who are seen as unimportant in his poem entitled, "Noel. The Lone Ranger."

"Israel. The broken people of God. The hungry. The captive. The persecuted. The dispersed. The despised. People of God. The people of God. Enslaved by the Egyptians. Crushed by the Assyrians. Broken by the Babylonians. Desecrated by the Greeks. Tyrannized by the Romans. Exterminated by the Nazis. Despised by the nations. Israel. The chosen people of God. the elect. singled out. To be a light to the Nations.

"How odd that God should choose the Jews. That Israel might be alight to the Nations. But no. The Magi. Wise men. Orientals. Foreigners. Waiting. Pacing back and forth. Expecting. Charting the heavens. Waiting for a sign. perhaps a star. Surely a star. At least a star! And then God manifested Godself. revealed himself as a fugitive from justice.

"No one. No one! Knew who he was. Not even his disciples. He came to his own and they knew him not. Foxes have holes. Birds have their nests. but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.

"There is no way to know who he is. Except by signs. And these are the signs by which you will recognize him...He will not look like God. There will be no room for him in the world. Wherever he goes nothing will ever be the same again. Only after he has gone will anyone realize who has been there. And in the end he will die in order that we might live. Only very wise men and children will ever recognize him. And he is here today. Because You Are the Christ. The chosen one. the broken one.

"Surprised? You should be. Frightened? I should hope so. Don't be afraid. I am bringing you glad tiding of great joy. For out of you this day the Christ is born. God loves you." (The Way of the Wolf)

Thus God comes to us in many unexpected ways, and through unexpected people. God is discerned not so much in the things and events we would call wonderful and beautiful and significant, but in such things as clutter and disorder, trivialities, misfortune, disaster, painful trials, minor and ordinary things, humiliating circumstances, and quite ordinary people—even in the announcement of a birth in the little town of Bethlehem.

Another important implication of the insight provided in this morning's gospel that God uses the common is that we ought to expect God to use us. We ought to be ready for it. It is, after all, God's pattern.

And third, while it's God's way to use ordinary people, we are called to do our part. Remember Mary's response, "So be it; I'll be a part of whatever you want of me." "Let it be with me according to your word."

We, like Mary, are ordinary people; and we are being called by God to greatness.

As the angel tells Mary, "He will be great, and will be called the Son of God, and the Lord will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end."

In the chancel of Westminster Abbey, above the spot where generation after generation of the kings of England have been crowned, there are inscribed the words from the Revelation of St. John: "the kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ." (Rev. 11:15). Certainly it is tragically evident that the real community for which humankind is longing can never be built by threats and national self-assertion. It can be built only when the imagination and will of the peoples of the world are captures by the spirit of the one whose greatness was that he came not to be ministered to, but to minister—that the kingdoms of this world become the kingdoms of our Lord.

Our part is to take the attitude of Mary—to willingly commit ourselves to the cause of God. As Mary says, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." In that incredible statement of Mary, we have the inspiration that we need in order to be part of building God's kingdom. She commits herself, not passively, but willingly—willfully, and personally to be and to do for God what God hopes.

Being a Christian is not merely a personal and reflective exercise. It means committing our bodies and our souls to be the vehicles of God's will on earth, as did Mary some two centuries ago. Then, and only then, do we discover and build the kind of community for which God and we long.

The powerless may become powerful. The nobodies may become the great. Those who seem lost to history may become the shapers of it. Not the Lady Gagas, but the people of humble churches like St. Thomas.

The hope that comes to us soon is not only through Christ, it.s also through this miracle of God's having chosen Mary. God became flesh, and by so doing God has made the mortal and earthy stuff of this world holy. God has exalted what was shameful. And more. God brings our exaltation not through those who are proud and mighty, but through those who are common as an old shoe.ordinary, everyday folks like you and me.

For nothing will be impossible with God. Amen.

May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus our Lord, unto eternal life. Amen.