Advent 4C; Micah 5:2-5a; Hebrews
10:5-10; Luke 1:39-55
St. Paul’s, Smithfield, NC;
12/20/2015
Jim Melnyk: “Wandering Through
Advent, Part 4”
We have been using our labyrinth as a metaphor for our journey through
Advent. As we come to the Fourth Sunday we
move into the final quarter of our Labyrinth – standing on the verge of entering
the center circle, our inward Advent journey almost complete. I’m always caught by surprise by our stop in
the Judean Hillside so many months before the birth of Jesus. We don’t know how far Mary was into her
pregnancy, but her cousin Elizabeth was six months pregnant with John, who
would later be called the Baptist, and it seems Mary stays with her through the
birth.
As we read the story today it dawns upon us that while pregnant, Mary
makes not one, but two long-distance journeys between Nazareth and the area
surrounding Jerusalem. The first,
somewhat early on, is to her cousin’s house.
We may be talking anywhere between 80-120 miles depending on the route
taken. Later, while nine months
pregnant, Mary will make the journey once again – going beyond Jerusalem by
another 10 miles to get to Bethlehem.
One wonders if she had a copy of Willie Nelson’s “On the Road Again” on
her iPod.
So we come to the final week of Advent having made our journey with
Jesus, with John the Baptist, and now with Mary and Elizabeth. It has been quite a journey – with signs of
destruction and new birth, with challenges to prepare the way of the Lord and
make his paths straight, with calls to repentance and joyful hope. We come into the final week of Advent poised
to step into the center of the Labyrinth – poised to step back once again into
Bethlehem on Christmas Eve – and we recall today the faithfulness of Mary, both
servant and mother of God. Hopefully we
marvel at the courage and the faithfulness of a young girl – at best a teenager
–
who stands before the angelic messenger and listens to Gabriel’s proclamation
about who the child she is now carrying will come to be; and who responds with
both humility and strength upon hearing her cousin Elizabeth’s proclamation as
well.
Today’s lessons for Advent 4 speak of humility and obedience – two character
traits that rarely seem to be at the top of most American’s – or perhaps most
human being’s – wish list. We’re taught
from youth to speak up for ourselves because if we don’t who else will? Humility – that’s for the weak. And obedience is something we struggle with as
children and teenagers, and it becomes seen as a necessary evil in our young adulthood
– something to put up with until we rise to the top and others are required to
show deference to us instead.
In our first lesson today we recall that Bethlehem is one of the
smallest clans of Judah – seemingly of little or no account among the great. But from Bethlehem came the most renowned
king in Jewish history – David, who was the youngest of Jesse’s eight sons –
only a shepherd on the hillside – too young to even be invited to the feast at
which the prophet Samuel was to identify and anoint the new king of Israel.
How Israel’s history would have changed had Samuel said to God, “Bethlehem
– that little backwater village? Why
should someone as important as I go there? Not gonna do it Lord!” How would things have changed if Samuel,
after the first seven of Jesse’s sons had paraded by, said, “That’s a wrap –
don’t bother bringing the little kid down, nothing worth looking at here?” Well, actually I’m pretty sure God would have
found a way to bring David forward, although I’m also pretty sure things would
have gone south in a hurry for ol’ Samuel had that happened.
And then the author of Hebrews channels a bit of the Psalmist for us –
pulling out a bit of Psalm 40 to show that humility and openness to God mean
more than all the burnt offerings we could ever envision making. Last week we discovered that neither power nor
status, neither wealth nor pedigree save us.
This week the author of Hebrews tells us that neither will our religion –
or our religious observances – save us – hard words for Episcopalians with our
love for liturgy to hear.
Humility, obedience, relationship, love for God and love for neighbor –
those are the hallmarks of what it means to be centered in God – those are the
hallmarks of life reconciled with God and neighbor.
Today, as we stand on the verge of entering the center of our labyrinth
– as we stand on the verge of witnessing the incarnation of God – we stop in
the Judean hillside to glimpse Elizabeth’s witness to the Holy One cradled in
Mary’s womb – and witness Mary’s vision of what it will mean for the heavens to
break open and God to come among us in human flesh.
Of course it’s easy for us to focus in on the way Luke describes John,
the future Baptist of fiery fame, leaping in Elizabeth’s womb. It makes for good prophetic poetry. But let’s not be too quick to dismiss Elizabeth and Zechariah’s role in
the whole story.
Earlier in Luke’s story we’re told that Zechariah belonged to a
priestly family and served in the Temple.
Elizabeth is a descendent of Aaron, who was the very first in the line
of Israel’s priesthood. We are told that
both Elizabeth and Zechariah are known to be righteous people. Their witness to the child that Mary carries
in her womb basically gives Mary and Jesus “street cred” among the faithful of
Israel – and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, even pronounces a blessing
on Mary and the child she carries.
Later, Matthew and his story of the magi, will offer that same
credibility among the gentiles. Elizabeth’s
proclamation sets us up for Mary’s powerful – words that follow – words we
heard sung in the canticle this morning.
“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.”
What follows is anything but the words of a meek, lowly, teenager who
is unsure of herself, or anxious about what God is doing in her life. Perhaps Mary’s journey from Nazareth to the Judean
hillside – like an extended labyrinth walk – has given her time to ponder the
angel Gabriel’s words to her. Perhaps
Elizabeth’s proclamation has underscored Mary’s thoughts and wonderings. Who knows?
What we do know is that Mary’s deep faith leads to a song of praise that
spans the history of two faiths – echoing Hannah’s proclamation when she finds
herself pregnant with the child who will one day become the prophet
Samuel.
Both Hannah and Mary sing of a hope that God’s promise will dawn for a
world desperately in need of a Savior – a world where those often forgotten and
lost will find a place at God’s table with those who have all that they need –
a world where love for God and love for neighbor will finally bridge a world so
often at war with itself. As Theologian
Walter Brueggemann writes, “[Mary’s] poetry and the song invite us to move out
beyond the world given us by ‘the hard men,’ and into a new, different world” –
a world lived in mercy, grace, and love (Sojourners Online, Preaching the Word, 12/20/2015).
And we are invited today to not only join in Mary’s song, but to offer
ourselves to partner with God in bringing about the reality of a new world – of
offering ourselves, our souls and bodies, to God’s service in bringing about the
kingdom of God today.
“As we move like Mary ‘with
great haste’ toward the birthing, I hope we can linger a bit longer in that
little hut in the Judean hill country with Elizabeth and Mary, if only to learn
how to be better receivers of God's surprising work. If the fuller restoration of creation is ever
to come about, it will be when we give up control, somewhat as these two women
did before the greater things stirring in them" (Glen V. Wilberg, Synthesis Today,
12/15/2015).
As we stand on the verge of entering the center of our labyrinth, it
may well be that the promise of our Lord will catch us by surprise as this Advent
season comes to a close. And being
caught by surprise, perhaps we will allow ourselves to give up some of the need
for control in our lives, and embrace the humility and obedience of those who
have gone before us, joining our voices in song with Elizabeth and Mary, and looking
with hope for the coming of God among us once again.
No comments:
Post a Comment