"The Promise Fulfilled – Surprised by Joy" | Luke 1:26-38 | Advent 2025 | Hillside Baptist Church

C.

S.

Lewis once wrote a spiritual autobiography tracing his journey from atheism to Christian faith centered on a mysterious experience he calls joy.

He titled it Surprised by Joy.

Lewis clarifies that joy doesn't refer to ordinary happiness.

Rather, it is a distinctive longing he experienced even from childhood, an intense yearning for something he couldn't fully identify.

This feeling would come on suddenly and then fade just as fast, leaving him struggling to describe it.

It was a strange mix of sadness and sweetness, but so powerful that he longed to feel it again.

Perhaps you can relate.

Lewis discovered that this joy would arise through experiences like a distant mountain, a childhood memory, or mythological imagery.

But these experiences were not the object of the longing.

They pointed beyond themselves.

They awakened a desire for something transcendent, a desire written on the hearts of all of us.

Throughout his life, Lewis sought to answer that longing with the world's offerings, but each one proved painfully insufficient.

What he eventually learned was that the yearning within him was a Jesus-shaped whole, a hunger that only the one who made him could truly satisfy.

Rather than Lewis passively searching for God, he eventually realized that God was the one pursuing him, pounding on the door of his mind and life, imposing reality upon him with demanding force.

The God that Lewis tried so long to suppress was the very one breaking through.

And so, in God's grace, Lewis finally surrendered, admitting God's existence and converting to Christianity, calling himself, perhaps that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all of England.

But after becoming a Christian, Lewis recognized something profound.

The joy he had been chasing all his life had never been an end in itself.

It had always been a signpost, a pointer, not merely toward a feeling, but toward a person, toward God Himself.

The deepest story of his life concerned nothing else but this mysterious longing and its ultimate fulfillment.

And in many ways, Lewis's story reflects the story of God's people, living between the mysterious longing and the ultimate fulfillment.

God's people have always been awaiting people.

We saw it last week in Abraham and Sarah, who received the promise of God but waited twenty-five long years before seeing even the first glimpse of fulfillment in the miraculous birth of Isaac.

We saw it in the long history of Israel and in God's covenant with King David, a promise that God Himself would establish the throne of his kingdom forever.

Century after century, through famine and failure, through wandering and exile, God's people held fast to promises they could not yet see, trusting the God who spoke them.

As we've seen these past couple weeks, Advent meets us in that same tension today.

The tension between what God has already done and what we still long for Him to do, between the joy of Christ's first coming and the ache for his return.

Between the present experience of sorrow and the certain hope of eternal joy.

Advent tells us the same truth it told Abraham, David, and all the saints before us.

God has never abandoned his people in their waiting.

He has always been faithful.

Every promise of God is preserved by God to bring about the ultimate fulfillment of those promises.

And therefore, every fleeting experience of joy, every Lewis-like moment of longing, is a gentle reminder of what it ultimately points to, or rather, who it points to.

It points us to Jesus, the ultimate fulfillment of every promise of God.

He is the joy of every longing, the one who entered the world in the most unexpected way, to bring salvation, hope, and everlasting joy to his people.

And that brings us to Luke 1.

Here, God's long-awaited promises step out of the shadows and into the life of a young woman in Nazareth, and through her they step into the world.

As we get ready to take a closer look, let's first take a moment to go before the Lord in prayer.

You've given us the light of your Son Jesus.

We pray as we turn to your word this morning that we would see how Jesus is the ultimate fulfillment of every promise that you made and preserved, leading up to this beautiful moment that we read about here.

Let it cause us to worship you more.

It's in Jesus' name we pray.

Amen.

Luke chapter one, beginning with verse 26.

Now in the sixth month, the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin's name was Mary.

And coming in, he said to her, Greetings, favored one, the Lord is with you.

It wasn't common in Scripture for angels to appear to people.

When they did, it marked a moment of extraordinary importance.

And this moment is no different.

Gabriel is one of only two angels mentioned in all 66 books of the Bible, one of two angels that are named, the other one, of course, being Michael.

Names have meaning, and Gabriel means power of God or emissary of God.

Whenever Gabriel appears, whether in Daniel or here in Luke 1, he comes as God's herald, carrying messages that change the course of history.

And now this mighty messenger is sent by God to the most unlikely of places, the small overlooked town of Nazareth, into one of the most unsuspecting people imaginable, a young virgin named Mary.

Throughout history, many have lifted Mary so high that she becomes almost untouchable, nearly divine.

But we have to remember that there was nothing special in Mary that made God owe her this honor.

She was no more deserving than Abraham when God first called him out of Ur.

Mary is called favored by God and told the Lord is with you, not because of some special righteousness in her, but because of God's sovereign grace.

This story is about God's glory long before it's about Mary's virtue.

And that is part of the joy and wonder of this passage.

God is working in ways no one expected.

Mary woke up that morning thinking it was just an ordinary day.

She had no idea an angel would stand before her.

She had no category for the kind of news that she was about to receive.

She could never have imagined that the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob would use her, a young woman from a forgotten town, to bring the long-awaited Messiah into the world.

When we see God's grace on display in Mary's life, we are reminded of something deeply encouraging.

God delights in using ordinary people to accomplish extraordinary things.

Not because they are great, but because he is.

None of us will ever be Mary or Abraham.

Their roles in redemptive history were unique.

But the God who used them for his purposes is the same God who calls us, equips us, and surprises us with his grace today.

If God could step into the quiet ordinary life of Mary and unfold his eternal plan through her, then we should not be surprised when he chooses to work in unexpected ways in our own lives as well.

His interventions may not be as dramatic as an angelic visitation, but they are no less real, no less gracious, and no less purposeful.

Let's continue with the sovereign promise found in verses twenty-nine through thirty three.

But she was very perplexed at this statement, and was pondering what kind of greeting this was.

And the angel said to her, Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.

And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus.

He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and there will be no end of his kingdom.

You could say that Mary was truly surprised by joy, though that joy did not arrive all at once.

Luke tells us that she was troubled by what she heard.

There's confusion, there's fear, there's the kind of holy uneasiness that comes when God draws near in power.

And that makes perfect sense.

Who could possibly take in news like this?

Mary, a young virgin, would conceive and bear a son by the power of God?

And not just any son, this child would be the one that God's people had been waiting for.

The long promised Messiah, the fulfillment of centuries of hope and longing.

There's nothing in this world that truly compares to news like that.

Not winning the lottery, not sudden fame, not political power or earthly honor, not even becoming the most influential person in human history.

The only thing more astonishing than being chosen to bear the Messiah is the staggering reality that the Messiah himself had finally come.

Gabriel tells Mary, you shall call his name Jesus.

That name, drawn from the Hebrew Joshua or Yeshua, means the Lord saves.

In other words, his name announces his mission.

This child is the salvation of God in human flesh.

Isaiah had spoken of this long ago.

Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son.

And now, in this moment, that promise steps out of prophecy and into history.

Gabriel goes on, he will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High.

Notice how it doesn't say he will become great, it says he will be great.

This is the fulfillment of Isaiah 9, for unto us a child is born, and of the increase of his government, and of peace there will be no end.

The throne promised to David, the throne that seemed to crumble with Israel's failures, is now promised again, and this time it will never be taken away.

He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, Gabriel says, and of his kingdom there will be no end.

Do not miss what Luke is showing us here.

This isn't a new plan.

This is not God improvising.

This is the sovereign fulfillment of the covenant God made with David in 2 Samuel 7, a throne established by God Himself, secured forever by God Himself, and now entrusted to the true Son of David.

And suddenly all the waiting makes sense, all the longing, all the silence, all the centuries, it was finally happening.

What God promised to Abraham, what he preserved through David, what he declared through the prophets, was now coming to fulfillment.

Not in a palace, not with armies, but in the womb of a young woman in Nazareth.

And this is where joy begins to rise, not shallow happiness, but deep, trembling joy.

The joy that comes from knowing that God keeps his promises, even when they unfold in ways we never expected.

Let's close out with verses thirty-four through thirty-eight.

But Mary said to the angel, How will this be, since I am a virgin?

The angel answered and said to her, The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you, and for that reason the holy child shall be called the Son of God.

And behold, your relative Elizabeth has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her, who was called barren, for nothing will be impossible with God.

And Mary said, Behold, the slave of the Lord, may it be done to me according to your word.

And the angel departed from her.

Mary had questions, but having questions doesn't mean that you doubt God.

We don't have to know the how if we are sure about the who.

And yet, God delights to share a glimpse into this mystery by explaining through the angel Gabriel how this would come to be.

Even after it is explained to Mary, she understandably still has questions, but she trusted God.

She was willing to accept God's will, despite the unknowns.

She responds, Behold the slave of the Lord, may it be done to me according to your word.

This is surrendered trust, not blind faith, not shallow optimism, but joyful submission to the will of a faithful God.

And if we're being honest, this is where we often struggle.

We want clarity before obedience.

We want the full picture before we take the first step.

We want assurance that everything will make sense before we trust the one who calls us.

But God often invites us to walk by faith, not by sight, and to discover that joy is found on the other side of obedience.

There is a quiet joy that comes from laying down our expectations, holding our plans loosely, and saying, Lord, your will, not mine.

Faith does not make us passive spectators in God's story.

It makes us active participants.

When we embrace God's word, something beautiful happens.

Our hearts are shaped, our lives are transformed, and joy takes root even in uncertainty.

Think of it like a tapestry.

From our side, all we see is the back side, tangled threads, loose ends, patterns that don't seem to make sense.

From our perspective, it looks messy and unfinished.

But God sees the other side.

He is weaving every thread with purpose, beauty, and precision.

And if we could see what he sees, we would be filled with the same wonder and awe that Mary felt, knowing that through her obedience, God was bringing the long-awaited Messiah into the world.

Gabriel anchors Mary's faith with a familiar truth, for nothing will be impossible with God.

That promise reaches all the way back to Abraham and Sarah, when God brought life out of barrenness.

It echoes again in Elizabeth, well past the age of childbearing, now carrying John the Baptist.

And it reaches its highest point here, as God does the unthinkable, a virgin conceives by the power of the Holy Spirit.

God is not limited by age.

He is not limited by weakness.

He is not limited by what seems impossible to us.

We may never be an Abraham or a Sarah or an Elizabeth, and certainly not a Mary.

But do you believe that God is still able to work beyond your limitations?

Does old age make you useless in the kingdom of God?

Scripture says otherwise.

Does physical weakness, fading strength, or slowing pace disqualify you from God's purposes?

Not in the slightest.

I'm not just talking about heaven.

I'm talking about right here, right now.

If God can make dry bones live, he can make old entired bones useful too.

The success of Hillside Baptist Church does not depend on youthful energy or human strength.

It never has.

It depends entirely on God.

And yet, God, in his wisdom and providence, delights to accomplish his purposes through faithful, aging saints, men and women who trust him, obey him, and keep showing up.

Do you believe that?

Trusting God means learning little by little to loosen our grip on what we know and what feels familiar.

It means being open to the changes God brings when they come according to His will and for our good.

It's a reminder that we don't have to have everything figured out, and that we don't need to be afraid of what lies ahead.

Because joy is not found in understanding everything.

It is found in trusting the God who holds all things together and who fulfills every one of his promises.

This is the joy of Advent, not the shallow joy of sentiment or nostalgia, but the deep, steady joy that comes from knowing that God keeps his promises.

Mary was surprised by joy, because God did exactly what he said he would do in his time, in his way, and through the most unexpected means.

The long period of darkness and waiting was finally ending.

The silence was broken.

The Savior in light of the world had come.

And that same God is still at work today.

We stand on the far side of Christ's first coming, yet we are still waiting, waiting for the day when He returns, when His kingdom is seen in its fullness, and when every longing finds its final satisfaction in Him.

Until that day, every flicker of joy we experience is a reminder that the promise has been fulfilled and will be fulfilled completely.

So let us wait with confidence, trust with humility, and rejoice with hope.

The God who surprised Mary with joy has given us Christ, and that joy has entered the world and will never be taken from it.

The waiting is over.

The king has come.

Hallelujah, indeed.

He reigns now, and his kingdom will have no end.

And so we do not merely sing it, we believe it.

Joy to the world, the Lord is come.

Let Earth receive her king.

Let's pray.

Gracious Heavenly Father, we celebrate your victory in Christ.

Jesus, you are the light of the world.

You have come.

And each year as we remember your arrival, we long for your return.

We go in the confidence that you equip your church to carry out your will, not for our glory, but for your glory.

Amen.