Sermon for The Fourth Sunday in Advent

The mother of the Prince of Peace is speaking some pretty revolutionary words in our Gospel tonight. That often gets glossed over when we hear Mary spoken of as the woman who says, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” But I’d like to remind us tonight just how radical and rebellious living from out of the peace of God actually is.

I’m really not sure where the idea of Mary being meek and mild came from. I understand its usefulness from a certain point of view. The meek and mild myth is certainly emphasized by patriarchal & misogynistic systems, because it’s dangerous to have a female role model as feisty as Mary actually is.

And she’s not just feisty in the political diatribe we call the Magnificat. She’s just as strong headed in the story about the wedding at Cana. Mary doesn’t even listen to Jesus but just orders the wine steward to talk to Jesus in that motherly way of assuming her child will do what she wants.

Mary is the servant of the Lord. But subservience and submission to God should not be confused with subservience and submission to another human being – no matter what Paul might have said. I mean, I really don’t think Mary saying yes to Gabriel without first consulting her husband fits the common interpretation of Paul’s words in Ephesians. It seems both liberal and conservative interpret Paul’s words this way they just have different relationships to it.

Mary has a strong sense of self. The Magnificat echoes Hannah’s song, so here is Mary identifying herself with a figure from Scripture. This is hardly a meek or mild thing to do. It would seem in the eyes of her culture even more audacious than Jesus claiming he is the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy when He begins His ministry.

It’s also important to note that Mary speaks of what God HAS done, not what God will shortly do. God has chosen the lowest of the low in the furthest reaches of the Global Empire to bring about the incarnation. God has already scattered the proud, brought down the powerful and lifted up the lowly in choosing a Nazorean woman to bear the incarnation. The hungry are filled with God’s very self!

To put Jesus’ human origin in relationship to Rome in a modern context; Just imagine some Chamorro kid from Guam showing up in Washington DC with a horde of poverty-stricken, quasi-legal followers proclaiming himself the messiah, or on an equal level to God. That would be well received, don’t you think?

The analogy would be more accurate to say Jesus showed up in Honolulu, because Jesus never went to Rome, but you get my point I think. Not meek, not mild, rather humble of origin and gentle in His power.

In fact the English word meek, which we do read as one of the blessed qualities in the Beatitudes, doesn’t have the same meaning as the original Greek. The Greek word indicates gentleness in how one uses their strength. The Greek does not imply weakness as the English does.

Meek and mild as subservient to the status quo is a complete misunderstanding of what peace actually is. To live a truly peaceful life is genuinely counter cultural. It flies in the face of a violent culture that solves its problems with violence.

Our culture of violence is the modern version of the sin offerings the author of Hebrews speaks of – though these sacrifices are made so we can go on sinning. Violence is a scapegoat offering on the altars of revenge, racism, sexism, xenophobia, etc. and the scapegoats ARE the people who are being sinned against… or the people who stand up for them.

It is the prince of peace who offered His body in order to abolish this. Living the life of peace God asks of us is not meek, nor mild. And it will not be well received. Gandhi, Martin Luther King, the Mississippi civil rights workers, St. Steven, all the apostles except John, and more were crucified. This is the harsh truth of living out of peace and love.

The harsh truth of how the world receives peace, though, is not what ultimately concerns us. A greater reality, a greater Kingdom is available to us. This is the Kingdom that is both/and; both breaking in and yet to come. It is from this reality that we find the strength of God. We are heirs to that strength, a strength that must be wielded gently, without exploiting power, wealth or status. Power, wealth and Status are not God’s will for us. That’s what one makes sin sacrifices for.

Mary understood this, this is what she is saying, not that Rome will fall, but that God has made Rome irrelevant. Empire is the antithesis of the Kingdom of Heaven. For the one true King of all will soon be born in the most humble of circumstances. And He is the one we follow. “For now he shall be great to the ends of the earth; and he shall be the one of peace.”

Readings:

Micah 5:2-5a

Psalm 80:1-7     

Hebrews 10:5-10        

Luke 1:39-55

Sermon for The First Sunday in Advent

What shall endure? We have our answer in the text. Still, as often as Advent comes around, the beginning of the Liturgical year, the anticipation of marking the beginning of Jesus’ life on earth, we contemplate the end of all things and it never stops being jarring – and downright gloomy.

Of course this is meant to remind us that we aren’t just ritually awaiting the celebration of the Incarnation. We are also awaiting the second coming; the end of all days, the final judgement, and the fulfillment of the Kingdom of God. And so we do indeed have the question before us, what shall endure?

It is the Word that endures. And it is our hope that being the body of the word, we will have our share in the enduring Glory of the Lord. And I think we could all use some hope these days. Especially as we are quite possibly facing, if not the end of all things, the end of humankind – or at least the end of life as we know it.

It truly is the end of all things that’s being described in our Gospel; notice that Jesus is verbally reversing the creation story. Remember in creation the earth was brought forth from the sea and lights were put in the dome of the heavens. And that’s all being reversed.

All of that will pass away…

The image of the seas rolling in does make me think of global warming and melting ice caps. People will surely faint from fear and foreboding when that comes to pass. And that will happen. The earthy powers are clearly invested in NOT preventing that. Honestly, I’ve resigned myself to mankind’s self-destruction. If it’s not global warming than it will be the nuclear waste problem. That’s a trigger we pulled ages ago - it is its own time bomb of destruction. These disasters take time to manifest, though – not as much time as we’d like perhaps, but how long can we put the consequences of our actions off? We don’t know the day or the hour.

Our text tonight does bring up a passage that throws a bit of a wrench in knowing when the end is near, “Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place.” So what happened? Did God change their mind? Did something go wrong? Did the apostles mishear or misunderstand this statement?

In the 4^th chapter of 1 Thessalonians the one that follows what we read tonight, Paul addresses the concerns of the Thessalonians who are grieved by the deaths of their siblings in Christ. Perhaps they had some of these same questions. Paul wants to inform them that those who have fallen asleep will be raised at the coming of the Lord, even before the survivors. He reminds them of their Hope in sharing the Glory of the Lord. 

It’s clear, however, that Paul believes that this coming in Glory will happen while at least some of those he’s addressing will still be alive - So much for immediacy. Most of us have lost any expectation of the end. 2000 years after it was supposed to happen it’s easy to imagine that the end times are very far off indeed. And while concern for impending disasters makes sense, worrying about it won’t hasten nor delay it. Besides, as Jesus reminds us, sufficient unto today are the evils thereof.

But that doesn’t assuage any gloom, frankly. Honestly, where I most struggle with hope is in feeling powerless over the systemic slaughter of black people, in the slow deliberate starving of the poor, in the denial of access to healthcare, in laws that prevent feeding the homeless, in the astonishing heartlessness I see all around me; heartlessness that perpetuates Evil. It’s very gloomy to see so many Christians be that heartless, especially considering Jesus asked us to be radically compassionate, forgiving, peaceful and especially loving. How do you follow Jesus and not listen to his words?

And that is what Jesus tells us will endure, His words; God’s words from God’s Word. The Psalms, Isaiah, Peters letters, the other synoptic Gospels, all speak of the Word of God outlasting the heavens and the earth. And it’s this kind of phrase that can jolt one into remembering that we’re not talking about literal words here. If there are no tongues and books, what words could be left?

We’re speaking of the second person of the Trinity. Word is a metaphor, the non-created non-being spoke via the begotten, not created God; things that are quite beyond our comprehension. How do we find Hope in that which we can’t even really know?

Our little light of hope that shines as we begin the dark season of Advent, as the days get shorter and shorter, is that the word made flesh retained some semblance of His human form. That’s something we can grasp, something we can understand. And it is through the reality that God has incorporated human form into Herself that we can imagine a hope that we will somehow share in the Glory of the Lord.  

And so we Hope in that which we can’t fully understand. Yet, to hope for anything else, to hope in that which we can know, will inevitably lead to disappointment. Our authorities, our systems, or friends and family, and yes even our pets will let us down, will fail. Even the heavens will eventually desert us. Creation is not the creator. Some may think that hope in that which we cannot fully know or fully understand is foolishness. I say that to have hope in what you can know and understand is true foolishness.

Yet we need hope to function, to carry on. Hopelessness leads to despair and self-destruction. That, I am positive is not what God wants from us. Hope is one of the Christian virtues. I believe it’s a virtue because it requires a leap of faith, a trust in what we cannot see over what we can. And so we trust in the witnesses of the Glory of God; witness that has not been just handed down for 2000 years, but witness that still continues. God continues to reveal God’s self to us. Some of us here have had our glimpses of that Glory. Whether we have had a glimpse or not, we have all been promised a share in that Glory. We can even tap into it now, live into this other reality that we have inherited. We can draw not on our own strength, but on Christ’s. Christ who shall endure, who can be trusted. I encourage you to put your hope in the Word. 

Readings:

Jeremiah 33:14-16     

Psalm 25:1-10   

1 Thessalonians 3:9-13       

Luke 21:25-36

You Can't Bring Your Status, Wealth or Power Into the Kingdom of Heaven

Another appropriate epistle today would have been Ephesians, where Paul reminds us that we are members of Christ’s body. He then quotes both Genesis and Jesus "For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two will become one flesh." Going on to say this mystery is great and applying it to Christ and the church. 

And it is in this sense, applying this to the Church that I’m speaking of tonight. Quite frankly the way we here in the industrial US understand marriage bears little to no resemblance of marriage in the time of Jesus. Frankly I don’t see the point of getting into all that; though I will begin with a broader notion of kinship.

I had a friend who upon looking at her first born child, and seeing both her and her spouse in the child said, “This is what the Bible means when it says the two become one flesh.” Her mind turned to scripture in this holy and sacred moment. It was a genuinely touching and meaningful response to the miracle of new life.

And while I think she meant it quite literally as in the genetic combination of the married couple, in a broader sense she did touch upon the meaning of “Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and clings to his wife, and they become one flesh.” This does not merely refer to sexual union, but rather to forming a new kinship bond. 

The echo of Adam saying "This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh,” reverberates throughout the Bible as way to name kindship bonds. Laban says to his nephew Jacob, “Surely you are my bone and my flesh!” (Gen. 29:14). Abimelech says to his mother’s family, “Remember also that I am your bone and your flesh” (Judg. 9:2). The tribes of Israel say to David, “Behold, we are your bone and flesh” (2 Sam. 5:1). David says to the elders of Judah, “You are my brothers; you are my bone and my flesh” (2 Sam. 19:12; cf. 19:13).

And it was not too many weeks ago that we read here the words of Jesus, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.” This from the chapter in John’s Gospel of establishing Eucharistic practice. The Eucharist is many things. It is ritual cannibalism; it is an intimate encounter with Christ himself, a union of flesh. We digest Christ; he becomes literally part of our flesh. It is also communion, a community experience, one that forms us all into the body of Christ. 

In becoming one flesh with Christ we also become one flesh with each other, in the kinship bond sense. We become siblings with and in Christ, as the author of Hebrews tells us: “For the one who sanctifies and those who are sanctified all have one Father. For this reason Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters.”

The author of Hebrews also refers to us specifically as children, while Christ today tells us that whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it. Now I commonly hear this interpreted as one must enter the Kingdom innocently, or with simple minded acceptance. But I believe those are relatively modern conceptions of children born out of romanticization. A romanticization I think that is part and parcel of a notion that the miracle of new life ceases to be a miracle as that life gets older. I don’t believe Jesus thinks that way.

I rather think Jesus is speaking to children’s lack of wealth, power or status in his times. Children, especially fatherless children, are mentioned throughout scripture as those in need who have no resources – who in fact God especially cares for. It is in this sense, in powerlessness, poverty and lack of status that one enters the Kingdom. The first shall be last and the last shall be first.

I’m reminded here of the woman who put a mere pittance into the Temple treasury. Jesus tells us she gave more than those who gave large amounts because she gave everything she had. You are not your wealth, status or power, clinging to that makes entering the kingdom harder than it is for a camel to go through the eye of a needle. You enter into the kingdom free of all that, an equal brother or sister or sibling under one Father alone. 

I do not say this naively. Our order developed in part out of recognition of the great sibling rivalry that disrupts and divides the Body of Christ. Yet, how much of that rivalry comes out of not entering the kingdom as child or sibling? Our society truly lacks a notion that we have intrinsic value, and so value is measured in terms of superiority – if not with wealth, power and status, than with some sense of moral superiority. We speak of good and bad people, right and wrong people all the time. Believing we can enter the kingdom without all that is pretty difficult. Believing that our siblings don’t need any of that either takes work. The one who sanctifies believes that, and so I direct you to him, and the encounter with him we all soon will have.

And so we come to table tonight with this in mind. We are not simply a community who worships together; we are entering into a kinship. Giving our all not just to God but to each other and to living out of the kingdom. We are becoming brothers and sisters and siblings who abide in Christ as Christ abides in us.

Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.

Readings for this sermon:

• Genesis 2:18-24 and Psalm 8  • 
• Hebrews 1:1-4, 2:5-12  • 
• Mark 10:2-16