Monday, December 21, 2015

The Joy of Advent (and the Canticle of the Turning)

St. Matthew’s, Chandler
4 Advent
Year C

We are beginning the fourth week of Advent, and so this may be a good time to recap what has transpired in the weeks before.  If the Gospel lessons from scripture have not seemed to be telling a coherent story, it is because they have not been telling a linear story.  In fact, the gospel lessons have been going backwards.

So— on the first Sunday of Advent, the lectionary gave to me: a full-grown Jesus preaching prophecy.  The 33 year old Jesus foretells his second coming and the troubles before his next appearance.  Advent is as much about the expectation of this next appearing of Christ as it is about preparing for the season of Christmas and the celebration of the Incarnation, when Christ came to Earth in the flesh.  

On the second Sunday of Advent, the lectionary gave to me: John the Baptist and Isaiah’s prophecy.  It was foretold that one would come before the Messiah to prepare the way, and call people to repentance.  This was John the Baptist, who would soon baptize Jesus before Jesus began his own three-year ministry.

On the third Sunday of Advent, the lectionary gave to me: John’s ethics and End-times prophecy.  This was a continuation of the week before. You might remember.  John:

…said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance… Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire."
And the crowds asked him, "What then should we do?" In reply he said to them, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise." Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, "Teacher, what should we do?" He said to them, "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you." Soldiers also asked him, "And we, what should we do?" He said to them, "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages."
"I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming…His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat…but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."
So, with many other exhortations, John proclaimed the good news to the people.[1]

Wait, there was good news in that?
We’ll come back to this.

On the fourth Sunday of Advent, the lectionary gave to me:  Elizabeth extolling Mary.  Today, we hear about what happens right after the angel Gabriel visits Mary with the news that she will carry the Son of the Most High God. Elizabeth is six months pregnant with John the Baptist when Mary hurries to visit her relative living in the hill country just outside Jerusalem, and “Elizabeth no more than hears Mary’s words of greeting, and she knows what has happened. Luke tells us that Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, and she cries out,

Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb…for as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.”[2]

At this point Mary cannot help herself.  She bursts out into song—not that “12 Days of Christmas” business—no! The Magnificat, or the Song of Mary! (“My soul magnifies the Lord!”)  We’ve heard at least one version today.

In these four weeks, we have come a long way.  From the haunting tones of “O come, O Come, Emmanuel” which always seem to me to speak of seeing the light of Christ from a great distance—as a single flickering candle at the end of a long dark tunnel—to this song of Mary that speaks of a reality so close that it seems at hand and present.
God has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.

Mary and Elizabeth absolutely revel in the possibilities of a world turning upside down.  The joy with which they do so is also a key for understanding John the Baptist from last week.

John the Baptist sounds harsh.  All the prophets do.  In fact, Mary’s song has a harsh tinge to it as well, particularly if you think it unfair that anyone—particularly the rich—are sent away empty.  What is the good news here? 

The good news is that we follow a God and creator who loves us and cares for us.  We are not at liberty to say that God offers a blind eye or unqualified affirmation to everything humanity does.  The same loving-kindness that God shows to us is shown to all of creation. For if God offers an unqualified patience and affirmation to everything we do—even those things which harm others—then the Gospel holds no good news for the many who suffer for the sake of the comfort of a few.  There was and is need for the savior we are awaiting. 

And the prophets’ call to repentance is the reminder that we are not individually God’s sole project on this earth. The call to repentance is misunderstood if it is seen only as a project of personal improvement.  That is too small a glory for the Kingdom of God we proclaim as “on the way”—a Kingdom proclaimed by building communities that practice love in spite of our fears and our lusts for power and control over others.

John’s words to the rich, the tax collectors, and the soldiers to give to others out of their abundance, to not collect more than they are supposed to, to not steal from the people they are watching over— These are the habits of justice and mercy on Earth that prepare people for living the Kingdom of Heaven.  John’s preaching makes plain again that there is a God who cares about the weak, the poor, the needy, and the outcast—just like every prophet before him, just like the psalmists, just like Zechariah, Elizabeth, and Mary, just like Jesus and we who follow after. 

This is a hard message for the rich, the tax collectors, and the soldiers who have to give up the practices that enriched them, and learn a new way of being in the world.  This is a hard message today for anyone who finds they have the power to enrich themselves at the expense of others and act to do so or allow it to happen.  But this message that God cares and that God is acting to turn the world around is precisely what Good News looks like to those whose experience of love, justice, and mercy is wanting or nonexistent. And the good news for the powerful is that they are indeed invited into this turning of the world—to find that after the work of turning toward love, justice, and mercy, they will see the riches of Kingdom and regain their full humanity by learning to see God more clearly as well as the equal belovedness of those they had previously overlooked. 

With this turning of the world, in which the normal expectations of power and prestige and the problems borne from their exercise are turned upside down, and a Kingdom of perfect love and justice are realized as the lowly are lifted up.

And we follow a God who delights in such reversals.  Our expectations of God’s work he will shatter, and yet still fulfill. In a world in which the powerful are marked by being well-borne, with affluence and fortune, God will choose a different path.  Instead of a savior borne of impeccable pedigree, God will send his son to be born of a sexually suspect, unwed, poor, young woman, who could not even find a room at an inn—a son begotten from before time and through whom all things were made, whose first bed on earth will be an animal’s feeding trough.  This entrance into the world was not an accident. The creator of the universe could have had Jesus born into power.  

But God chose this young woman, marginalized in her own time, who yet finds sanctuary and hospitality with her cousin who is also pregnant under divine circumstances.  

And both hearts are so full that the only proper response is laughter and song! 
They know they are living in the good news of God’s confounding ways! 
There’s the joy of the season!    

How shall we welcome such a scene this week?  
How shall we prepare for the world to turn?

-----------------------

I requested that the Canticle of the Turning be sung by the choir for this Sunday; which is a song that highlights what is in plain sight in the Magnificat, but is somewhat muted in the song’s familiarity and Mary's meek and mild image.

My soul cries out with a joyful shout

that the God of my heart is great,
And my spirit sings of the wondrous things
that you bring to the ones who wait.
You fixed your sight on your servant's plight,
and my weakness you did not spurn,
So from east to west shall my name be blest.
Could the world be about to turn?

Refrain
My heart shall sing of the day you bring.
Let the fires of your justice burn.
Wipe away all tears, for the dawn draws near,
and the world is about to turn!

Though I am small, my God, my all,
you work great things in me,
And your mercy will last                          
from the depths of the past
to the end of the age to be.
Your very name puts the proud to shame,
and to those who would for you yearn,
You will show your might,                          
put the strong to flight,
for the world is about to turn.

From the halls of power to the fortress tower,
not a stone will be left on stone.
Let the king beware for your justice tears
ev'ry tyrant from his throne.
The hungry poor shall weep no more,
for the food they can never earn;
There are tables spread, ev'ry mouth be fed,
for the world is about to turn.



Though the nations rage from age to age,
we remember who holds us fast:
God's mercy must deliver us
from the conqueror's crushing grasp.
This saving word that our forebears heard
is the promise which holds us bound,
'Til the spear and rod can be crushed by God,
who is turning the world around.





[1] Portions from Luke 3:7-18.
[2] Jan Anderson, (http://adventdoor.com/2009/12/13/advent-4-the-sanctuary-they-make-in-meeting/#sthash.5izj979b.dpu).

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