After two disrupted and difficult years due to Covid, we stand on the cusp on a new year. Many of us are fervently hoping for a very different sort of year – a year filled with certainty and peace and even joy. The latter two of these hopes are often associated with Christmas and the coming of Jesus and it feels as though the world could certainly do with more peace and joy at the moment.

This week the Gospel of Luke moves on quickly from Christmas and the baby in the manger as Luke recounts the naming and presentation of Jesus in the Temple some eight days later. Everything is done according to Jewish custom including circumcision ( … I wonder if Jesus still didn’t cry?). There we hear from two elderly prophets, Simeon and Anna, who have been waiting patiently for the redemption of Israel.

Without any prompting, both Simeon and Anna identify Jesus as the Messiah or Christ, the one who will bring salvation – the one who will bring peace, yes, but also change and uncertainty. According to Mary’s earlier song, the poor and hungry will be lifted up while the proud and powerful will be toppled from their thrones. This is seen through the lens of salvation – or healing – that this child will bring – resulting in glory for Israel and light to the nations, an early indication from Luke that this child will touch the whole world for good.

But Simeon also sounds a darker note that Jesus will bring division and disruption within Israel, again an early sign from Luke that this child will be rejected by many. He will bring pain and heartache – including to his mother Mary – as well as salvation. So for those of us wanting greater certainty and joy in our lives, be warned that following Jesus has never been the pathway to a certain or easy life. Yes, God will bring light and peace and joy through Jesus – but will also shine light into the dark and divided places in our world – including the political sphere – that may well bring discomfort and change with its corresponding level of stress. We can’t have one without the other. If we want to be true to Jesus, we will need to be willing to embrace both the light and the darker aspects he brings.

Many Protestant Christians have a rather ambivalent view of Mary. Yes she is the mother of Jesus and features prominently in the Christmas story, but she then rapidly disappears from our view, only to reappear at the foot of the cross (in John’s Gospel at least). But Protestants are wary of the high view of Mary in the Catholic Church and her exalted role in redemption and prayer. Because of this ambivalence, and the influence of Christian art that usually depicts Mary as meek and demure with her eyes cast downwards, we lose sight of Mary’s contribution to our faith.

Mary’s song in Luke 1:46-55 that we know as the Magnificat is actually quite subversive and radical. Mary considers herself blessed and favoured by God, who has done great things for her. God’s choosing of Mary to be the mother of Jesus is indeed an honour, but it comes at considerable personal cost to her reputation and later life. The stigma surrounding the origins of Jesus will never leave her and she will most likely live much of her life on the margins of polite society. So a rather upside down blessing.

The balance of the song is equally subversive as Mary sings of the proud, powerful and rich being brought low while the poor and hungry are lifted up. In many ways this is a foretaste of the message and ministry of Jesus who comes to bring good news to the poor through word and action. Mary’s prophetic words are filled with faith, courage and vision and set out the first declaration of God’s upside down kingdom adventure in Luke’s Gospel. So yes, Mary fulfils an important role in being the mother – and educator – of Jesus but is also an inspiring example of an early female disciple who has an important voice for us to hear.

At Christmas time there often seems to be an emphasis that everything has to be new – new gifts and new toys for the children or grandchildren, new table settings, new clothes. It’s all an advertiser’s dream as people flock to our shopping centres to buy ‘stuff’ for Christmas. No wonder that many retailers make more profit in the three weeks before Christmas than for the rest of the year combined. Of course we also retain older traditions – perhaps cooking a favourite recipe handed down over a couple of generations, watching Carols by Candlelight, decorating a tree with our treasured ornaments. So Christmas is a mix of old and new.

The Christmas story itself as we read in Luke’s Gospel is now considered old, but at the time God was doing a new thing among the people. The birth of John (later called the Baptist) was part of this new adventure. When Zechariah rejoices at the birth of his son, John, his words look both backwards and forwards. They recall God’s promises of old – promises made to Abraham to bless his descendants – and promises fulfilled at the Exodus as God acts with might to save the people from their enemies. Zechariah’s words also look forward to the ministry of John who will encourage people to repent and turn back to God afresh.

As we prepare to celebrate Christmas once again, I wonder where your attention is drawn. Do you look back with amazement at God’s plans and promises that came to pass in that first Christmas with the births of John and then Jesus and all that flowed from them? Or do you rejoice in what God is doing in our midst today, or look forwards with anticipation to where God’s Spirit is leading us in the future? Wherever your gaze is drawn, may you reflect with joy at how God is weaving your story into God’s bigger story.

This week, as we move a step closer towards Christmas, we hear the story of Mary receiving some most unexpected news. She is to have a son who will be named Jesus, who will rule on the throne of David and be called the Son of the Most High God. Mary asks how this will be since she isn’t even married. The somewhat mysterious response is that the power of God’s Spirit will come upon her.

We are probably too familiar with this story that we miss how scandalous it is at so many levels. Mary is young and as yet unmarried, so to become pregnant is a social scandal that will lead to innuendo, disgrace and possibly worse. What will she say to her parents and to her fiancé Joseph? Mary is also a nobody in the wider scheme of things. She comes from an ordinary family and from a very ordinary small village. She has no status, no connections.

But therein lies the beauty and mystery of this story – that God chooses to work through ordinary people like Mary living ordinary lives. God may well have seen qualities in Mary to suit her for this rather extraordinary role – a deep faith perhaps, courage and a sense of calm. Perhaps God sees these or other qualities in our lives. The most important characteristic though is that Mary says ‘yes’ to God’s invitation. She doesn’t know where this will lead or about the joys and challenges and griefs it will bring her but she says yes anyway. May we be inspired by Mary’s adventure beyond the ordinary.