“God is not far away. God is in the womb!” Advent 3 Midweek 2025

17. December 2025

Advent 3 Midweek

Luke 1:26-38

“For with God nothing will be impossible.” Then Mary said, “Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to your word.” And the angel departed from her (Lk 1:37–38).

This is the Word of the Lord that came to me, so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in His + Name. AMEN.

Today, we’re not observing a “minor festival” of the Annunciation. We’re not pretending it’s March 25. Advent isn’t sentimental buildup; it’s about the Lord coming near. “The Lord is at hand” (Philippians 4:5). We are doing what Advent always tries to force us to do: stop treating God as a distant idea and confront the fact that He comes near in the flesh.

And that connects directly to the last two midweeks, because you’ve been living in the wilderness with John—sharp preaching, repentance, “prepare the way,” and the uncomfortable truth that you cannot save yourself. John is a mercy, but John is not the Christ. John can expose you and strip you down. He cannot carry your sin. He cannot be your righteousness. He can only point.

So now the Church pulls you out of the wilderness and puts you in a small house in Nazareth. Not a spotlight. Not a cathedral. Not a throne room. “The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin… of the house of David.” (Luke 1:26–27). Heaven invades the ordinary. God aims His rescue plan at a girl who has no power to control it.

And the first word is already too much: “Greetings, O favored one, the Lord is with you!” (Luke 1:28). That line should hit you like a hammer. “The Lord is with you” is not religious wallpaper. It’s either terror or salvation—depending on whether God is against you or for you.

Mary’s reaction is honest, and it’s the opposite of the plastic Christmas-card version. “She was greatly troubled… and tried to discern what sort of greeting this might be.” (Luke 1:29). Good. Sinners don’t naturally relax when the holy God steps close. We either panic, or we perform, or we try to manage Him with pious nonsense.

So Gabriel says the word God always gives when He comes for sinners: “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” (Luke 1:30). Favor. Not wage. Not merit. Not “you’ve earned this.” Favor because God gives favor.

Then the angel does what faithful preaching always does. He doesn’t hand Mary a technique. He gives her a Christ. “Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus.” (Luke 1:31). A real Son. A real body. A real name. And the promise is soaked in Old Testament substance: “The Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David.” (Luke 1:32). God is not improvising. He is keeping His Word.

And since our previous meditations have been dealing with doubts—John’s question from prison, your own impatience, your habit of demanding God “prove it”—this text answers that in the best way: not by scolding the question, but by anchoring you in God’s promise. Mary asks a blunt question too: “How will this be, since I am a virgin?” (Luke 1:34). That’s not unbelief; it’s reality. She’s asking, “What are you saying God will do?”

Gabriel’s answer is the center of Christianity: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.” (Luke 1:35). In other words, this does not depend on Mary’s strength. It doesn’t depend on her cleverness. It doesn’t depend on her emotional readiness. It depends on God.

That should land on you hard, because you keep trying to run your spiritual life like a self-improvement project. You keep thinking the Christian life is “I will get myself into shape, and then God will be close.” No. God comes close first. God speaks first. God acts first. That’s grace.

And Gabriel goes even further: “Therefore the child to be born will be called holy—the Son of God.” (Luke 1:35). Not “a holy man.” Not “a special prophet.” The Son of God in flesh. That’s why this isn’t a cute origin story. It’s God entering the world He came to judge—so that He might save it.

That is what the Church confesses plainly: “the Son of God… assumed the human nature” and is “truly God and truly man” (Augsburg Confession III). Not as trivia. As comfort. If Jesus is truly man, then God has stepped into our condition. If Jesus is truly God, then His mercy is not wishful thinking. It is Almighty action.

And that ties back to the messenger theme you’ve been leaning on. In the wilderness sermons, John was the messenger—sent to prepare, sent to preach repentance, sent to point away from himself. Here, Gabriel is also a messenger. God is serious about sending His Word through servants. But the Word always aims at the same end: not “be better,” but “here is your Savior.”

And this King is not small. “He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”(Luke 1:33). Advent is not God offering tips for coping. It’s God installing His King over every rival kingdom—including the kingdom of your self-rule.

Now here is the direct, honest truth: you and I are not neutral observers in this story. We are part of the problem it solves. The reason God must come in the flesh is that Adam’s ruin is not a minor defect. Scripture is blunt: “Sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men.” (Romans 5:12). You don’t just do bad things. You are born bent. You are born dying. You are born with a heart that tries to be its own god.

So God does not fix this with encouragement. He fixes it with a new Man. Paul says Jesus is “the last Adam.” (1 Corinthians 15:45). And he explains the exchange: “As by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous.” (Romans 5:19). That’s the backbone under Luke 1. Mary’s Son is the Second Adam—the new humanity beginning in Him.

This is why the incarnation matters. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” (John 1:14). God saves you up close. Inside your humanity. By taking it into Himself so He can carry your sin and kill it.

And if your earlier midweeks pressed the question, “Where is God when I’m stuck—when I’m in prison like John, when I’m in fear, when I’m waiting?”—Luke 1 answers: God is not far away. God is in the womb. God is coming in weakness. God is already moving toward the cross.

Because yes, the cross is already in the room even if Gabriel doesn’t name it. The child’s name is Jesus, and Scripture interprets it for you: “He will save his people from their sins.” (Matthew 1:21). And sins are not removed by vibes. Sins are removed by blood. “Without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins.” (Hebrews 9:22). Advent joy is not denial. It’s the joy that God is actually doing something about guilt and death.

So what do you do with your doubts? You stop making them the center. John asked. Mary asked. The question isn’t whether you ever have questions. The question is whether you will let God answer you where He actually answers: in His Word and in His Christ.

Gabriel gives you the line that smashes your closed universe: “For nothing will be impossible with God.” (Luke 1:37). That does not mean you get whatever you want. It means God will keep His promise even when everything in you screams “impossible.” He will bring the Savior. He will forgive sins. He will raise the dead. He will finish what He started.

And Mary’s last word becomes the Church’s Advent posture—not swagger, not control, not manipulation—faith that receives: “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.” (Luke 1:38). That is how sinners live: by the Word.

This is also where our repentance theme hits home. The old Adam doesn’t die politely. He keeps crawling back—either into despair (“God can’t love you”) or pride (“God must be impressed with you”). So you drown him again. Paul says what your baptism means: “We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death.” (Romans 6:4). The Catechism says the same thing without flinching: “the Old Adam in us should by daily contrition and repentance be drowned and die” (Small Catechism, Baptism). That’s Advent realism. Daily death. Daily return. Daily receiving Christ.

And when you fall, you do not pretend it’s fine. You confess it. You name it. You stop excusing it. And then you stop trying to pay for it, because you can’t. God justifies sinners for Christ’s sake. “Men cannot be justified before God by their own strength, merits, or works, but are freely justified for Christ’s sake through faith” (Augsburg Confession IV). Freely. That means your standing with God is anchored in Mary’s Son, not in your weekly performance.

So, stop trying to keep God at a manageable distance. He will not be managed. He will be received. “The Lord is with you.” (Luke 1:28). And the One who is with you is not an idea. He is Jesus—true God and true man—your Brother in the flesh, your Savior from sin, your King whose reign does not end.

And if you need one sentence to carry into the rest of Advent—especially when your heart is loud and your faith feels small—take the angel’s Word straight: “Do not be afraid… for nothing will be impossible with God.” (Luke 1:30, 37).

This is the Word of the Lord that came to me, so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in His + Name. AMEN.

Rev. Christopher R. Gillespie
St. John Ev. Lutheran Church & School - Sherman Center
Random Lake, Wisconsin