NRS John 114 And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.

This is a slide of a painting by the American artist Henry O. Tanner. It's titled "Annunciation." My daughter Mary brought both the painting and the artist to my attention after I asked her to suggest art works that might help me speak to this morning's gospel: "And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth."

Tanner was born in 1859 in Pittsburgh. He was the son of a bishop in the African Methodist Episcopal Church, who later moved his family to Philadelphia. It's there that young Henry began his education in art, and where he would eventually study under the great Thomas Eakins. Tanner's father had hoped and encouraged his son to follow him into the A.M.E. ministry. But when young Henry discovered that he could actually make a living as an illustrator and painter, he began a career that has now landed him in the front ranks of American artists. Today his paintings are much prized in the art world, and art historians often put him in the company of painters like John Singleton Copley, James Whistler, and Homer Winslow. Tanner died in 1937.

Although Henry Tanner never became the minister his father hoped he would be, he had a sharp eye and a deep heart for religious themes. He painted a number of scenes taken from the Bible. He once said,
"[The artist] who has the most sympathy with his subject will achieve the best results."
(see, www.liunet.edu/cwis/cwp/library/aavaahp.htm#tanner)
That sympathy is evident in this painting of Mary's meeting with the angel Gabriel, who announced to her, "Hail, Mary, full of grace! The Lord is with thee." The most striking thing in his painting is, of course, the depiction of Gabriel. Dispensing with the cliché wings and robes of cartoon angels, Tanner's Gabriel is pure light, brilliant, dazzling, buzzing with energy. But the painter's real sympathy obviously lies with Mary. You can see that her hair's a mess, she's maybe half awake, and likely she's not just a little terrified. Her hands folded, her shoulders slumped, there floats on her face the outline of a terrible question: "You want me to do what?"

I think I was 21 when I read a book that changed my life. It was titled, "Where God Meets Man." The author was Gerhard Forde, who would later be one of my seminary professors. He subtitled the book, "Luther's Down-to-Earth Approach to the Gospel," and it took the top of my head off. Up to that point in my life I had thought faith was all about making God happy and getting God to like me. That's the approach I had taken to life, and on one level, it was working out okay for me. I was a good boy, I played by the rules, and not surprisingly, my teachers liked me, I had friends, and I should have felt pretty good about myself. But I didn't. I couldn't make God like me. No matter how I tried, or how long I prayed, or how many times I went to church, I couldn't make myself acceptable to God. But after I read "Where God Meets Man," it began to dawn on me that not only couldn't I make myself right with God, but also, and more importantly, I didn't have to. God had made me right with him in the Son who took my flesh, forgave my sins, and has clothed me in the promise of eternal life.

Dr. Forde died in 2006, but his book is still in print. Unfortunately, it's got this kind of cheesy cover that doesn't do justice to the book. They haven't asked me, but if Augsburg-Fortress Press does a re-issue, I would suggest they put Tanner's "Annunciation" on the cover. Because this, I think, is where, and how, and when God meets humanity. As a light in the darkness. With us barely conscious. Pretty much scared to death. With only a question we're too afraid to ask.

In the Name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.