"Least Expectations"
By Mickey Anders
First Christian Church
Pikeville, Kentucky
December 16, 2001
Text: Matthew 1: 18-25
Recently a man took his film to a one-hour development facility in downtown
Chicago. He left the film and returned in an hour to discover that
the place had changed to a one-hour cleaners. The confused man hesitantly
entered the store, met the same clerk, and asked about his film.
The gentleman behind the counter said, "Was that a suit or just shirts?"
The man replied, "It was 35 millimeter film."
The clerk asked, "Was it to be pressed or just cleaned?"
The man said, "It was film to be developed."
The clerk said, "Do you want to look through these suits to see if
one of them belongs to you."
The man, getting a little agitated by now, said with a bit of tension
in his voice, "I didn't HAVE a suit, I HAD film."
The clerk asked the gentleman if he ever watched TV.
He said, "Sometimes."
Then the clerk announced, "Smile, you're on Candid Camera!"
Do you remember the famous line as the shows goes off the air. Mr. Funt states, "Remember, when you least expect it, someone, somewhere may walk up to you and say, 'Smile, You're on Candid Camera.'"
When I struggled with today's text, I kept coming back to that Candid Camera line, "when you least expect it," because I think that sums up Joseph and Mary's experience. And in many ways it answers the question, "How does God speak to us?" God comes to us AT TIMES we least expect it. God comes to us IN WAYS we least expect it. And God comes to us THROUGH PEOPLE that we least expect.
1) God comes AT TIMES we least expect it.
This was a terrible time for Joseph. His life had absolutely fallen apart. Up until recently, everything had gone according to plan. Joseph had a promising career as a carpenter. His parents had no doubt arranged for the marriage to Mary when they were both very young. For years, they had known that one day they would get married. Then Mary told him the disturbing news that she was going to have a baby. Joseph knew one thing for sure – it was not his baby.
What a devastating experience for Joseph. He could hardly make himself believe it, but it was true. No doubt Joseph spent many sleepless nights wrestling with the situation. What should he do? How should he handle it? He cared enough about Mary that he didn't want to publicly humiliate her.
Finally, after much anguish, he decided the best course was to divorce her quietly. Even though they were only engaged, the custom of the time required that an engagement could only be broken with a divorce. He had finally made up his mind when he fell to sleep that night. And that's when God came with unexpected news.
Matthew records it this way, "But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, 'Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as you wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.'" (Matthew 1:20-21)
Isn't that the way it often happens for us as well? God comes at the most unexpected times. Just when we have decided exactly what we want to do, God springs the unexpected on us.
2) God comes IN WAYS that we least expect.
Joseph had the matter worked out in his mind. He was satisfied with his answer. He went to bed not expecting anything. How could he expect anything as amazing as the angel announced? It had to be beyond his comprehension to even imagine such a circumstance. Then God spoke through a dream.
Has God ever spoken to you through a dream? What are your dreams like? I'm afraid that most of my dreams concern arriving at church with out my pants on or missing a final exam in college. Not long ago I said to Sarah as we got ready for work, "I'll bet Faye VanHoose was upset last night when Brad spilled coffee all over his suit." Most of my dreams are just that nonsensical, but occasionally I have dreams that speak the word of God to me.
I distinctly remember a dream I had a couple of years ago in which someone had their arms wrapped tightly around me as I lay in bed. I remember almost shouting, "But who is it? Who is it?" Then suddenly I awoke with a deep impression that it was God with his loving arms around me.
Again last night, I suddenly awoke and looked at my watch. It was 4 a.m. In my dream, I had been wrestling with today's sermon. I was shocked awake because I felt that God had given me the following story for exactly this point in this sermon. You would be surprised how often that happens to me.
In my sleep I remembered the photography book I saw on Friday while visiting in Plina Voight's home. She was so excited about my visit that she shared with me a bowl of fruit, some green tea, and her favorite book, America Wide by Ken Duncan. As I looked through the incredibly beautiful landscape photographs in the book, I came across one of a spectacular mountain valley filled with wild flowers. It was unquestionably the best picture in the whole book. I read on the next page the photographer's description of the day he took the picture.
He said he found the valley with the wild flowers in bloom early in the day and set up his equipment. But there were several other photographers there, some disturbing the scene, and the lighting was never quite right. He left for a while then came back later. But shortly after he set up his equipment again, it started raining. Everyone else left. As it rained, he prayed. He prayed that God would let it stop raining just long enough for him to get his picture. After about two hours in the rain, he was almost ready to give up. That's when the rain stopped, the clouds parted, and a perfect light fell on the valley creating a spectacular rainbow arching gracefully across the already beautiful scene. And just as suddenly, the clouds came back and the moment was gone. Another photographer was scrambling to set up his equipment, but he was too late. He observed, "Did you get that? You are so lucky!" And Ken Duncan had the impression that it wasn't luck, and in the book he gave thanks to God for the incredible moment. God comes to us in unexpected way like that, just like he did for Joseph.
3) God comes to us THROUGH PEOPLE that we least expect. Joseph might have expected God to speak through the advice and counsel of his parents. He might have expected a word from his priest. He might even have looked for help through the words of the Scripture. But he most certainly did not expect to see an angel!
I wonder if you have ever had that experience of God speaking to you through someone that you least expected.
Recently I read a wonderful Christmas story told by Nancy Dahlberg in the book entitled Chicken Soup for the Christian Soul. She tells the story this way:
Our family was driving from San Francisco to Los Angeles on Christmas Day. That year Christmas came on Sunday and we needed to be in Los Angeles on Monday morning, having spent Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with my husband's parents.
We stopped for lunch at a diner in King City. I was enjoying a review of the happiness and meanings of the day when my reverie was interrupted. I heard Erik, our one-year-old son, scream with glee in his high chair. "Hi there." (Two words he thought were one.) He pounded his fat baby hands - whack, whack - on the metal tray of the high chair. His face was alive with excitement, eyes wide, gums bared in a toothless grin. He wriggled and chirped and giggled, and then I saw the source of his merriment.
A tattered rag of a coat; greasy, worn. Baggy pants, both they and the zipper at half mast over a spindly body. Toes that poked out of would-be shoes. A shirt that had ring-around-the-collar all over and a face like none other. Gums as bare as Erik's. Hair unwashed, uncombed, unbearable. Whiskers too short for a beard, but way beyond the shadow stage. And a nose so varicose that it looked like the map of New York. I was too far away to smell him, but I knew he smelled.
His hands were waving in the air, flapping about on loose wrists. "Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster." Erik continued to laugh and call, "Hi there." Every call was answered. I turned the high chair. Erik screamed and twisted around to face his old buddy. The waitresses' eyebrows were rising. Several diners went "ahem." This old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby! Now the bum was shouting from across the room, "Do ya know peek-a-boo? Hey look, he knows peek-a-boo."
The old guy was drunk. Nobody thought anything was cute. My husband was embarrassed. I was humiliated. Even our six-year-old wanted to know why that man was talking so loud. We ate hurriedly and in silence, all except Erik, who continued to run through his repertoire with the bum.
My husband rose to pay the check, telling me to meet him in the parking lot. I grabbed Erik and headed for the exit. The old man sat poised and waiting, his chair directly between me and the door. "Lord, let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik," I prayed.
I tried to side-step, to put my back between Erik and any air the old man might be breathing. But Erik, with his eyes riveted on his best friend, leaned far over my arm, reaching out with both arms in a baby's pick-me-up gesture. In the split second of balancing my baby and turning to counter his weight, I came eye-to-eye with the old man. His eyes were imploring. "Would you let me hold your baby?"
There was no need to answer. Erik propelled himself from my arms into the man's and immediately laid his head on the man's ragged shoulder. The man's eyes closed and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands, full of grime and pain and hard labor, gently, so gently, cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back.
The old man stroked and rocked Erik for a moment, then opened his eyes and looked squarely in mine. He said in a firm, commanding voice, "You take care of this baby." I said, "I will."
He pried Erik from his chest, unwillingly, longingly, as though he were in pain. I held my arms open to receive my baby, and again the gentleman addressed me. "God bless you, ma'am. You've given me my Christmas present."
I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik back in my arms, I ran for the car. Dennis wondered why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly and why I was saying, "My God, my God, forgive me." (1)
Like Joseph, the mother in this story found God in her least expectations. So this Christmas season remember, at times you least expect, in ways you least expect, and through people you least expect, God may step up to you and say, "Smile… For unto us a child is born, and unto us a son is given… his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."
References
1. Erik's Old Man by Nancy Dahlberg. From Chicken Soup for the Christian
Soul, pp. 307-309, copyright 1997 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen,
Patty Aubery and Nancy Mitchell. Health Communications, Inc., Deerfield
Beach, FL.