The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus.–Luke 1:30-31

It takes courage to have a child. At least, that is the case for all except the most naive of prospective parents. All sorts of things can go wrong. There is the possibility of miscarriage, particularly in the first three months of pregnancy. And of course, complications at the time of delivery can threaten the baby’s health and even its life. If the birth goes smoothly, some mothers do not produce milk for the infant, and some infants cannot swallow the milk the mother produces. If the baby can eat and thrives, there is still the possibility of disease and accidents that can impair or take the life of the child. And then there is the unthinkable–that an act of violence might take a child’s life. Yes, knowing all that can thwart our hopes and dreams, it takes courage to give birth to a child.

This time of year we remember and celebrate the birth of a particular child born to a first century Jewish peasant girl named Mary. She lived in the town of Nazareth in the region of Galilee under the domain of the mighty Roman Empire. She was nobody special, engaged to a man who was nobody special. But something very special happened when an angel named Gabriel appeared to her. Gabriel greeted the girl, said the Lord was with her, and told her not to be afraid. He then said that she would conceive and give birth to a son, and she would name him Jesus.

I have heard it said that the commandment stated most frequently in the Bible is “Do not be afraid.” The words are often on the lips of messengers like Gabriel who bring word from the Lord. In some instances we get the impression that the angel’s appearance is terrifying. But sometimes I wonder if it is not the angel’s appearance, but the message itself, that causes fear. “Do not be afraid…You will conceive and bear a son.” Those words alone were enough to frighten Mary. Surely she knew the social and economic challenges that having this child would bring. Even if she had a normal pregnancy and gave birth to a healthy child, she knew that raising a child was risky business, that there are a multitude of opportunities for mishap before a child is grown. And we know what Mary could not possibly have known: that her son, once grown, would be accused by their own religious leaders of blasphemy and executed by the Roman government on trumped-up charges of treason. We know that she would watch her son suffer and die upon a cross, and her heart would break from grief. She didn’t know that then. But we know that now.

We know what happened to that special child, the son of Mary and son of God Most High. And we know that no matter how much we want to assure our children of long life and happiness, to protect them from harm, to shield them from evil, that we cannot do it. And God may not do it, either. God chose not to intervene when Roman soldiers came for Mary’s son, and God does not always intervene when violence, or illness, or accident threatens our own children. And we cannot always intervene, even though we want to. Knowing what we know, it takes courage to have a child.

In spite of whatever doubts and misgivings she had, Mary said “yes” to Gabriel’s proposal. She said “yes” to life and agreed to participate in an extraordinary birth of an extraordinary child who would grow to become the most extraordinary person the world has known. Life is good, and in spite of our own doubts and misgivings, it’s good to say “yes.” In spite of all that can and does go wrong in this sin-sick world, it’s good to say “yes” to life.

I do not believe in a God who micromanages all the minute details of what happens in the universe. I believe that some things are left to human choice and that some things happen by chance of nature. I also believe in a God who works in the world through those who respond to tragedy and suffering with faith, hope and love; through those who provide comfort and help in time of need. At times I wish that God managed the world more closely—that God would intervene more quickly, more directly, more supernaturally to restrain both natural and human evil. But when God does not restrain evil, I look for God at work among those who say “yes” to life in the face of death, who respond to tragedy with goodness and hope. They were there back then, standing with Mary at the foot of his cross. They are here today, standing with those who suffer and grieve.

Mary had the courage to say “yes” to life. May we also have the courage to say “yes.”

Rev. Barrie Miller Kirby is pastor of Spencer Presbyterian Church and author of No Such Thing as a Cherokee Princess