The phrase “extraordinary callings in ordinary places” captures a key dimension of Covenant College’s mission, as we seek to educate and equip students for the pathways of God’s calling, most of which we would rightly call ordinary.

They will live and work and serve mostly via the routines of jobs and family life and church involvements and community activities, spending mostly ordinary days doing mostly ordinary things in mostly ordinary places. And yet the callings which they fulfill in these contexts and in these ways are by no means ordinary; they are the sovereign ways of God through which he enables his people to accomplish his extraordinary purposes.

How easy to get this wrong, to come to think that we must seek out extraordinary positions and do extraordinary things – that we must aim to be extraordinary leaders and “movers and shakers” in order for God to get his redemptive work done.

The story of Christmas provides several glimpses of this “extraordinary callings in ordinary places” truth. For those enamored with position and title and reputation and power, the Christmas story comes as a surprise, full of unexpected and ironic twists.

It is good to be reminded of these ironies, of how God in fact chose to work his extraordinary will, so that we would believe truly in him and not in ourselves, and recognize his powerful grace and gracious power in our own ordinary lives.

The word irony points to the “incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs.” Irony causes us to stop and say, “Wow, I wouldn’t have expected it to happen that way,” or “Who would have thought that it could turn out that way?”

Certainly ironies abound in the social and political and economic sphere – but that’s not the point for this posting. As we consider the Christmas story this season, we can take huge encouragement from the amazing ironies that run throughout the story, encouragement that should make us see our own situations differently as we consider the ways of God.

I want to credit our oldest son Jon with calling my attention to much of this marvelous Christmas irony in a sermon he preached a couple of years ago. (He is now a pastor at the same church in Wheaton, IL, where I served before coming to Covenant.)

Consider Luke’s account in Luke 1:26-56.

First, the story begins in an ironic place: Nazareth. Human reason would have proposed Jerusalem – the place of Jewish kings and the temple – or Rome – the place of knowledge and global power. Instead it’s Nazareth, a somewhat backwater town, of which Nathaniel said, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” (John 1:46). For those who think that being in the “right” place is what counts, this is not an auspicious place for God to enter the world!

Second, the story begins with an ironic person: Mary. We could have expected that God would come to the famous and powerful, who could have done something big with this news. Instead, it’s to a young girl, probably fourteen or fifteen, and definitely out of the mainstream of public life. For those who supremely value position and title, this is not an auspicious person to be the lead character of the story!

Third, the story begins with an ironic situation: a woman betrothed. How much simpler and more appropriate for God to come to an uncommitted woman with no such legal entanglements and scandalous implications. Instead, it’s a woman legally bound to be married, a bond carrying severe consequences, including stoning, should it be broken. For those concerned about propriety and reputation, this is not an auspicious situation for God to get his work done in an appropriate way!

Fourth, the story involves an ironic faith: in Mary and not in Zechariah. We might have expected true faith and obedience in the learned and practiced priest Zechariah (see Luke 1:8-23). Yet his response manifests a self-focused skepticism: “How shall I know this?” — an expression of unbelief even though the birth of a child was exactly what he had been praying for (see 1:13). And because he did not believe (1:20), he was made mute for 9 months until his son was born.

Instead, we hear the peasant girl Mary’s believing response, even as she is troubled and fearful: “How will this be, since I am a virgin?” It’s a question not of doubt but of wonder at how God might accomplish such a marvel. Zechariah’s wife Elizabeth declares God’s blessing on Mary precisely because she believed, without knowing how, the angel’s word from the Lord would be accomplished in her. For those who think that intellect and learning are what matter most, this is not an auspicious way for true faith to be displayed!

These ironies of place and person and situation and faith provide the surprising shape of the story of Christmas, the coming of God’s own Son into the world to save sinners. But I’m convinced that such ironies provide the shape of the stories of God’s people as well.

In unexpected places, through “unimportant” people, through odd situations, through surprising faith, God is doing his redemptive work in the world. How eagerly we chase after the “right” places and positions and people, believing that power and beauty and influence are necessary to God’s plan. How desperately we avoid difficult situations where it seems like no good can result. How disappointed we are when elections don’t go our way, when it seems like the wrong people are in control, when it seems like everything we have worked for is going down the drain. How afraid we become when the economic systems in which we trust fail us.

The greatest story in the history of the world is a story of human insignificance, weakness, scandal, and all these of immense proportion. “What? This place, this girl, this pregnancy, this path?” But God is who he is: mighty, powerful, sure of his purposes which will never fail, gracious and merciful and compassionate to do all things well. He chose not to show himself here with overt glory and might, but through this true story full of Christmas irony. And his Word declares the same to you and me – have a look again at 1 Corinthians 1:26-30! We do not need to seek glory and might in order for God to use us. That’s why this “extraordinary callings in ordinary places” way of thinking has become so precious to us at Covenant as we aim to pursue God’s purposes in God’s ways.

There’s a fifth irony – an ironic salvation: for the hungry and humble, and not for the proud and mighty and rich. Surely God would want to leverage the available and considerable assets of wealth and political power and intellectual ability. Partner with the folks with those assets, we might have counseled God, and your salvation plan can realize serious ROI! It’s in Mary’s song, known as the Magnificat, that the irony of God’s plan of salvation become clear – to exalt those of humble estate, to fill the hungry with good things, to show mercy to those who fear him; and conversely to scatter the proud, to bring down the mighty, to send the rich away empty. For those who assume that God needs our prized strengths and capabilities, this is not an auspicious picture of whom and how God saves!

For the fulfillment of God’s promise to Abraham and all his people means good news for people like Mary: only a young girl, not rich (we find out later that Mary and Joseph offer temple sacrifices of pigeons and doves, offerings of people in poverty), not influential or well-known, from that “dump” Nazareth. And yet the coming of the King meant good news and joy for her. What surprising and glorious and gracious irony!

(There’s a wonderful and ironic reversal in the story of Joseph as well — see Matthew 1:18-25. When Joseph found out about Mary’s pregnancy, he “resolved to divorce her quietly” to protect her from serious consequences. This, according to rational human thinking, would have been the honorable thing to do. But then the angel spoke to him in a dream about this son: how he was conceived, what he would grow up to do – all as the fulfillment of God’s word of promise. And Joseph believed the angel! Against all traditional understanding and normal expectations, recognizing all the potential problems this could create for her and him, he believed. None of his ordinary categories had prepared him to grasp his and Mary’s extraordinary calling. Through God’s revelation, as our pastor once put it, what Joseph at first regarded as an act of infidelity by Mary he came to understand as an act of fidelity by God. When someone says that they simply don’t understand how one could believe in God and his purposes and ways – that’s Joseph before the angel’s visit. Our response to such people must not be anger or impatience or fear, but rather prayer and friendship, so that the Josephs in our lives would not be confused or put off by misplaced pride or misused power, but would be visited by God through his Word, and by his grace come to believe and trust and live in him.)

Jesus’ coming into the world was filled with surprises….filled with irony…filled with reversals of the way we might have thought things should be. He comes not to a mighty man, but to a young girl from Nazareth; she is the one who receives the great honor of a visit from the angel of God. He comes celebrated, not by kings, priests, and rulers, but by two pregnant women and a baby still in the womb. He comes to bring good news and hope, not for the rich and the powerful, but for the poor and humble in heart, for those who fear him and hear him.

We know that, just as the entrance of King Jesus into the world was filled with irony and surprise, so too was the way this King built and continues to build his kingdom. He didn’t gather an army. He didn’t build a palace. He didn’t unite his people to throw off the Roman rulers who held them down. How did this King build his kingdom? Where did this King’s life take him? To a cross, hanging next to common criminals, where he bled and died for the sin of his people. His life leads him to the greatest irony in the history of this world: the Creator of everything, God’s own Son, submitting himself to death in our place, that we might be saved.

And we can hear him as he shouts “It is finished!”, looking at those around him and saying: “Do you understand now what kind of King I am? I am building my kingdom right now, here on this cross, in my body and through my blood, for all who will believe and live in me. This is what it looks like to be the true King of Israel. This is why I have come.”

It is understandable that those without faith – the faith that comes through hearing the word of the gospel — have difficulty accepting such a God who accomplishes his purposes in such ways. But it is troubling that Christians who claim the name of Jesus seem in practice to forget, neglect, and even be ashamed of the ironic ways of God and his salvation.

They seem to think that, although God took on flesh to be born as a helpless baby under the ironic circumstances we’ve described, and then died in humiliation on the cross for our sins, we should nevertheless prefer different methods, methods of power and might and control, in the church and in politics and in the culture at large.

Of course it’s appropriate to pursue a good education, to serve and as God calls to lead in his church, to vote your convictions about a rightly ordered government, and to be salt and light in the culture for the truth and justice and beauty of God.

But it is good to remember that God almost never does things in the ways we would expect – almost never! He almost never does what most people would consider reasonable, according to normal patterns of human wisdom and strategic thinking. Not only do his ways appear weak and foolish to many, but there is offense in them, for they strike at the root of those assets – of resources and position and intellect – in which we take such pride.

It can be quite a knock-down to realize the implications for us hidden in the ironies of Christmas. God chose an ironic person in an ironic place, in an ironic situation, with an ironic faith, in order to accomplish his ironic salvation. He chooses the weak and the foolish and the humble, those who are poor in spirit, who fear him, and who believe and obey his word.

But what mercy! For it is the mighty power and grace of God that are at work in and through such people, in the ordinary pathways of their work and family and church and neighborhood. His great salvation — accomplished through his crucified and risen Son whose birth in a manger we celebrate at Christmas, ours by grace through faith, lived out by Word and Spirit in all the mundane details of our lives – that great salvation is our greatest asset. It is the supreme asset without which all other assets are rubbish.

Our callings are truly extraordinary, for it is God who calls through the gospel and through his sovereign and ironic leading in our lives. Who would have thought he would accomplish his eternal purposes in such ways!

In my next posting, we will consider another irony: that this God who chooses to work through the weak and foolish and humble does in fact with his people triumph over all his and their enemies. The cradle leads to the cross leads to the crown!

Merry Christmas!

Neil Neilson is a Ruling Elder in the PCA. He is the President of Covenant College (PCA) in Lookout Mountain, Tennessee. This article first appeared in The President’s Blog at www.covenant.edu and is used with permission.