The Royal Decree in a Backwater Town Text: Luke 1:26-38
Introduction: How Kingdoms Come
We live in an age that is obsessed with power, influence, and scale. If you want to change the world, our thinking goes, you go to the centers of power. You go to Washington, or Wall Street, or Silicon Valley. You build a platform, you amass followers, you make a lot of noise. The world believes that history is shaped in the palaces of kings and the boardrooms of corporations. Grand movements require grand stages, and important messages are delivered with thunderous fanfare.
And then we come to Luke, chapter 1, and we find that God does not think like we do. The single most important announcement in the history of the world, the turning point of all ages, the message upon which all of human destiny would pivot, was not delivered in the Roman Senate. It was not proclaimed from the steps of the Temple in Jerusalem. It was delivered by a single angel, in a hick town in Galilee that respectable people sneered at, to a teenage girl who had no status, no influence, and no platform. This is not just a quaint detail. This is a fundamental lesson in the nature of the Kingdom of God. God’s kingdom is an invading force, but it does not come like the armies of men. It comes like a seed. It comes like yeast in a lump of dough. It comes through a quiet word spoken in an obscure place, a word that creates a new reality.
This passage, the Annunciation, is not a sentimental story for Christmas cards. It is a royal decree. It is the announcement of a new king and a new kingdom that would, in time, overthrow every throne and every power on earth. And it all begins here, with a conversation that turns the world upside down.
The Text
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.” 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 name Him 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.” 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.
(Luke 1:26-38 LSB)
God's Strategic Obscurity (vv. 26-27)
We begin with the setting, which is theologically deliberate.
"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." (Luke 1:26-27)
Every detail here is designed to confound human wisdom. Gabriel, a high-ranking angel who stands in the presence of God, is sent on a mission. The destination? Not Rome, the seat of imperial power. Not Jerusalem, the seat of religious power. He is sent to Nazareth, a town so insignificant that it is never mentioned in the Old Testament. It was a place people from other parts of Israel looked down on, as Nathanael’s later comment reveals: "Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" (John 1:46). God begins His great work of redemption in a place the world had written off.
And who is the recipient of this cosmic message? A virgin named Mary. She is not a queen or a priestess. She is a young woman, likely a teenager, with no social standing. She is simply a virgin, betrothed to a carpenter. But there is one crucial detail that connects this obscure scene to the grand sweep of redemptive history: her betrothed, Joseph, is "of the house of David." The royal line of David had fallen on hard times. The heir to the throne was not a prince in a palace but a craftsman in a backwater town. Yet God had not forgotten His promise to David in 2 Samuel 7. After centuries of silence, God is about to act, and He is doing so through the humble and the forgotten to show that the glory belongs to Him alone.
Grace Bestowed, Not Earned (vv. 28-30)
The angel's greeting is the next shock to our system.
"And coming in, he said to her, 'Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.' 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.'" (Luke 1:28-30 LSB)
Gabriel does not greet her as "Mary, the exceptionally pious" or "Mary, the most worthy." He calls her "favored one." The Greek word is kecharitomene. It is a perfect passive participle. This is crucial. It means she is one upon whom grace has been, and continues to be, bestowed. She is not the source of the favor; she is the object of it. This is a death blow to any theology that would elevate Mary to a co-redemptrix or a dispenser of grace. She is the first Christian, in a sense, the first to receive the good news of the gospel, and she receives it just as we all must: as a gift of pure, unmerited grace.
Her reaction is exactly right. She is perplexed. She is troubled. Why? Because she knows herself. She knows she has not done anything to deserve this kind of attention from heaven. True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less, and when confronted with the holy, it is to be bewildered by grace. The angel reassures her, "Do not be afraid," and repeats the core truth: "you have found favor with God." He does not say, "you have earned favor with God." You find what you were not looking for. This is the essence of grace.
The King and His Kingdom (vv. 31-33)
Next, the angel delivers the royal proclamation.
"And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name Him 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." (Genesis 1:31-33 LSB)
This is not a private, spiritual message. This is a geopolitical announcement. First, the name: Jesus, which is the Greek form of the Hebrew Joshua, meaning "Yahweh saves." His very name is a declaration of His purpose. Second, His titles define His identity. He is "great," not just another prophet. He is the "Son of the Most High," a clear statement of His divinity.
But then Gabriel gets explicitly political. God will give this child "the throne of His father David." This is the fulfillment of the Davidic Covenant. He "will reign over the house of Jacob forever." This is not a spiritual metaphor. It is the promise of a real king, a real throne, and a real kingdom. And this kingdom will be eternal: "there will be no end of His kingdom." This is a direct challenge to the temporary, tin-pot kingdom of Caesar Augustus, who was ruling at the time. The angel is announcing a coup. A new King has been declared, and His kingdom will eventually grind every other kingdom to dust. We must not strip these verses of their political force. Jesus came to rule the nations, and this is where it was first announced.
The New Creation (vv. 34-37)
Mary's question is practical, not faithless, and the answer reveals the nature of this new work.
"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... For nothing will be impossible with God.'" (Luke 1:34-35, 37 LSB)
Unlike Zechariah, who doubted God's ability, Mary simply asks for the mechanism. "I believe you. Just tell me how." The answer is a direct, creative act of the Triune God. "The Holy Spirit will come upon you." This is the language of creation. The same Spirit who hovered over the formless waters in Genesis 1:2 is now going to perform a new act of creation in the womb of Mary. The "power of the Most High will overshadow you." This word "overshadow" is the same used for the Shekinah glory cloud that filled the tabernacle, signifying the very presence of God.
God the Spirit is going to create a human nature for God the Son in Mary's womb, by the authority of God the Father. This is why the child is "holy." He is set apart, different from all other men, free from the inherited sin of Adam. And this is why He "shall be called the Son of God." His divine sonship is eternal, but it is now manifested in a unique way through this miraculous conception. To bolster her faith, the angel gives her a sign: her elderly, barren relative Elizabeth is six months pregnant. A lesser miracle confirms the greater one, all resting on the foundational axiom: "For nothing will be impossible with God." This is the death of all naturalism. God is not bound by the laws of biology He created.
The Perfect Response (v. 38)
Mary's final statement is one of the most profound expressions of faith in all of Scripture.
"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." (Luke 1:38 LSB)
Our English translations often soften this. "Handmaiden" sounds quaint and gentle. But the Greek word is doule. It means slave, bondslave. Mary is not volunteering for a position. She is acknowledging her status. She is owned. She belongs entirely to her Master. Her life, her body, her reputation, her future, are not her own. She is placing all of it at God's complete disposal.
Think of what she was agreeing to. The shame of a pregnancy before marriage. The potential for Joseph to divorce her. The possibility of being stoned under the law. She did not know how it would all work out. But she knew her Lord. Her response is the polar opposite of Eve's in the garden. Eve heard God's word and questioned it. Mary heard God's word and submitted to it. "May it be done to me according to your word." This is the essence of true faith. It is not a leap in the dark; it is a surrender to a clear command from a trustworthy God. This is the posture to which every Christian is called. Our response to God's Word, whatever it is, must be, "I am your slave. Let it be done."
Conclusion: The Kingdom in Us
The story of the Annunciation is the gospel in miniature. It begins in obscurity, is founded on sheer grace, proclaims a victorious King, is accomplished by the supernatural power of the Spirit, and is received by humble, submissive faith.
This is not just Mary's story; it is our pattern. God still comes to us when we are in our own Nazareths, our own places of insignificance. He still speaks to us, not because we are worthy, but because He is gracious. He still calls us to believe impossible things, that a holy God can forgive a sinner like you, that He can bring life out of death, that He can build His triumphant kingdom through weak and foolish people like us.
And He still requires the same response. Not a negotiation, not a list of our terms, but the simple, profound surrender of a slave. "Behold, the slave of the Lord." When we, by grace, can say that, we find that the same Spirit who overshadowed Mary comes to dwell in us. The same Christ who was formed in her is formed in us (Galatians 4:19). And the same kingdom that was announced to her begins to advance through us. It all begins when we stop trying to be masters of our own fate and joyfully acknowledge that we are slaves of the Lord.