Good morning,
good people of St. Paul’s. It’s
delightful to once again share the fourth Sunday of Advent with you (some of
you might recall that I preached here this time last year). Last year on this Sunday, I spoke about
“what’s in a name” regarding ‘Emmanuel’, exploring the implications of ‘God is
with us.’ And, we were invited to
reconsider Mary’s pregnancy and the birth of our Lord in a more gritty realistic
manner, particularly from Joseph’s perspective (Matthew 1:18-25).
This year on
this Sunday, we’re once again hearing about our Lord’s conception, but more
from Mary’s perspective this time (Luke 1:26-38). Whereas last year we considered the meaning of
Emmanuel (God is with us), this year, we’re invited to consider the
implications of bearing God through us – carrying the blessed nature of our
creator within ourselves and collectively bearing God’s creative and
restorative potential as this church family.
We received news
last week of Fr. Tom’s plan to retire in six months. To some, this news was a surprising
annunciation. To others, this was
expected news, albeit they might not have expected it to happen at this time in
this way. Whatever the case, as we
prepare to celebrate our rectors ministry with us over these next six months,
we’re also being called into a birthing process – our collective labor will be
about discerning God’s plan for our family for this next generation. It will be a process that will take more than
six month, even more than nine months if we honor it well… we are being called
to discern anew over the next year (at least) what can be birthed in this place
in God’s name.
Today’s
lectionary readings and pregnant (pardon the pun) with material for reflection
that can be helpful to us. In today’s
Gospel lesson (Luke 1:26-38), we hear of two intertwined pregnancies that are
both rooted in ancient tradition and ancestry as well as foretelling of a new
age dawning. Luke’s writing begins with
the foretelling of the birth of John the Baptist who (in the spirit of Elijah)
will prepare the way for our Lord. An angel appears to Zechariah and tells him
that his prayers have been answered and that Elizabeth, his aging barren wife,
will indeed bear a child who will be filled with the Holy Spirit and will lead
people to turn their lives around and come back to the Lord. No doubt both parents are both troubled and
delighted by this news. How is this possible?
We weren’t expecting this to happen now?
This is going to change everything.
Elizabeth comments that this birth will restore her place within their
society – she will be redeemed as fertile and life-bearing.
Six months
later, the life of one of Elizabeth’s relatives, Mary, a rural woman engaged to
a carpenter, is disrupted by an unexpected announcement from an angel with an
announcement that still a bit shocking and hard to believe… and, I imagine,
might be hard for any of us to accept readily were we in her position. Although not aged and barren like her
relative Elizabeth, we’re told that Mary has yet to consummate her marriage and
yet is told by this angel that she will soon become pregnant by God - “The Holy
Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you;
therefore the child to be both will be holy; he will be called Son of God.”
(Luke 1:35).
This morning,
I’m drawn to focus on the arch in these ten verses in the Gospel lesson that
are deceptively succinct in their summation of part of our journey as faithful
believers: Luke 1: 28-38. In the course
of these ten verses, we’re invited to recognize God’s action toward us, our
discernment about the implications of this, and our response. This three-part process – God’s initiative,
our discernment about it, and our response – is relevant to us personally as we
consider our responses to God’s work in our lives at home as well as to us
corporately as we imagine our responsibilities to God’s work in our church… specifically
here at St. Paul’s as we move into our future as bearers of the Good News in
Manhattan.
The Annunciation, by Henry Ossawa Tanner
(oil) c.1898
|
First, God’s
messenger (Gabriel) initiates contact with Mary – breaking through her
day-to-day existence in a startling way and presenting her with a godly
announcement that is perplexing. We can
imagine that Mary is a faithful person.
She probably prays ‘to’ God on a regular basis and worships God
routinely as is her cultural custom. But
on this particular day, God breaks through well-worn routine and presents her
with a divine opportunity to participate in God’s creation anew. While few, if any of us, can relate to the
sudden manifestation of an angel in our lives bringing such news Mary received,
can’t we all relate to those moments when we’re suddenly, stunningly aware of
God’s presence – an experience of something we see, hear, or feel that takes
our breath away for a moment. Time is
suspended momentarily and we experience a delicious disorientation that we can
feel in our body? Or, perhaps it’s news
that we receive that radically challenges our
preconceived plans for the future and challenges us to re-conceive God’s plans.
Next, Mary is
perplexed and ponders. Indeed, we can
easily imagine she is initially a bit anxious or fearful. It’s one thing to domesticate God within our
own rituals and routines – comfortably conforming God to specific times and
places in our lives; going along subconsciously presuming that God is
accessible to us when and how we need God to be. But when God breaks through our routine and
reveals divine opportunity to us in unexpected/unpredicted ways – particularly if
God manifests in a shocking display of power – we should be perplexed, perhaps
even fearful of what this might mean. Our
exemplar Mary doesn’t stop there, however.
She ponders and even questions “how can this be?” Whether we imagine that this was an instantaneous
response on her part or that it took her some time, that she engages with the
holy presence in discernment is vitally instructive. In a time and way of living that seems faster
and faster, seemingly more and more expectant of instant response, relief, and
gratification, what does it take for us to be able to ponder and question? What room is created within and around us for new
birth when we’re able to open up, as initially perplexing as it might be, to
discerning new possibilities with God?
Annunciation, by Chris Ofili (bronze) 2006 |
Third, Mary offers
herself – makes herself readily available to God, and both surrenders to being
a godly servant as well as steps-up to boldly proclaim the Good News (ref: Canticle
15, the Song of Mary known as the Magnificat; Luke 1:46-55). Some will say that Mary is immediately humble
before the Lord, has quickly remembered what God has done for her people (as
revealed in the ‘Song of Mary’ attributed to her), and readily submits to God’s
well. Others might imagine that she struggled
to comprehend and accept the implications of what she was hearing and
eventually resolved to move forward faithfully, not fully knowing what all this
might mean, but trusting in God’s ultimate intentions. Whatever the case, she said ‘yes’ to God’s
invitation into the divinely creative and redemptive process. ‘Yes’ she would be a vessel. ‘Yes’ she would accept her blessings. ‘Yes’ - as troubling as the labor might be, she agrees
to give birth to new life in God’s name.
What are we to hear in this that is relevant to our own lives? Maybe
we hear the angel’s reassurance ‘do not be afraid’ as not only calming us in the
initial moments of unexpected news, but also as a charge for our expected
subsequent response/action. Move forward
without fear, knowing that we are blessed and that God is with us.
There is a
fourth thing to consider here… the angel departed / the angel left her to do
the work. Having presented Mary with the
startling news and invitation to a divine opportunity, and seeing that Mary remembered
God’s faithfulness and that she had discerned to accept the call, the angel
leaves / doesn’t stick around (visibly) to her through the challenges
ahead. Indeed, it can sometimes seem
that almost immediately after we’ve decided to move forward in our godly
mission, we encounter challenges and discomfort that might raise questions
about whether God is still with us – we have many stories of our ancestors
struggling like this and often losing sight of the faith and confidence that initially
fueled their initiative. This Christmas,
let’s re-fuel our hearts with the promise perceived through the nativity scene –
God come to us amid a holy mess in order to redeem, restore, and rebuild. And, as we move forward in faith, personally
and as a church community, let’s expect birthing pains in the process of
bearing the Good News anew.
As we journey
through this final week of Advent toward the celebration of the birth of Jesus
Christ, let’s ponder, on these silent and holy nights, any startling news or
disruptive announcements in our own lives.
Let’s be honest about our feelings – astonishment, wonder, ‘how could
this be’, etc. Let’s pray to God and consider
anew what has been planted within us, individually and collectively that is to
be born with God’s help in due time. Let
us remember that God has never left us, nor will our Lord ever abandon us. This doesn’t mean that the road ahead will
always be easy. But, we can move forward
assured that God is forever with us in our mission as a people gathered in
Christ’s name.
AMEN.
BLESSING:
“May the God who brings heaven close to earth give truth to our judgment
and flame [light] to our longing that our hearts might be read to be born again
in love; and the blessing of God…” (from Prayers
for an Inclusive Church by Steven Shakespeare)
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