I would like to share with you the words of a new Advent hymn by David Bjorlin, a hymn that so beautifully describes what I am feeling in the deepest part of my being at this present time. These are the verses:
Come now, O God, when our love is forsaken.
Come, when our bedrock of faith has been shaken.
Come, when our deepest of hopes are mistaken.
Come, Emmanuel. Come, Emmanuel.
Come, when we squander the freedom you gave us.
Come, break the systems of sin that enslave us.
Come, though we wonder if you can still save us.
Come, Emmanuel. Come, Emmanuel.
Come, put an end to our self-serving madness.
Come, while the world is enshrouded in sadness.
Come, turn the tears of our mourning to gladness.
Come, Emmanuel. Come, Emmanuel.
Advent is a time to acknowledge and be honest about our longing for God to break into what was and what is. It is a time to articulate our longing for God to break into our forsaken love, our shaken faith, our mistaken hopes, the skewed ways we have squandered and abused the freedom we have been given, the systems of sin that enslave us, our self-serving madness, the world’s sadness, and our grieving tears. This longing we express with the words, “Come, though we wonder if you can still save us,” makes clear to me that we, on our own as human beings, are not capable of creating our own salvation. And, quite honestly, we do not even have the capacity to imagine the ways of God. The salvation we so long for is always something that must come from beyond us, beyond our own human understanding. The ways of God need to disrupt our present situation and break into our lives for us to become changed. And, we cannot anticipate how God will act, how God will break into human history – how God will surprisingly break into our history in truly unexpected ways.
So, as we live this season, I envision Advent as a time that could be compared to something like a hinge – it is a liminal, transitional space that holds the past and the future in tension. Advent invites us to be aware and to discern, to notice where a holy disruption breaks into what is and brings transformation. It is about being aware of the places where God is breaking into this world, where God is at work in our world, and where God is at work in our lives.
This year the tension of that liminal, transitional space has been especially strong. In the face of this pandemic, as we see thousands of people dying, as we see the growing economic blight, and the political self-serving madness and strife, quite frankly the peace foretold by ancient prophets seems illusory at best. The justice that makes valleys low and rough places a plain seems far off in face of oppressive, racist systems that scapegoat immigrants and devalue lives of color. And, when we consider our personal challenges and pains, and those of our family and friends, it can be confusing and very overwhelming. That is why, today’s gospel reading is such good news!
Today, as we look at our gospel reading, we can learn from Mary’s example. In today’s reading, Luke tells us that redemption is possible and, in fact, has already happened. Because of the birth, life, death, and resurrection of the Universal Christ, the holy continues to break into our lives to bring us ever more closely to the completion of creation.
When we look at today’s gospel, Mary, just like us, seems to be confused and overwhelmed. As we look at Mary’s response to Gabriel’s message, we discover she really does not fully comprehend the meaning of this news and, in fact, she has a choice in how she will respond. Theologian, Barbara Brown Taylor, addresses with deep insight the question of Mary's "choice," her freedom to respond in this most unusual situation in which she finds herself. Taylor says that, yes, the angel announced the impending birth and did not ask Mary for her assent, but there is a choice for Mary, "whether to take hold of the unknown life the angel held out to her or whether to defend herself against it however she could.” As she receives this news from God, Mary asks, “How can this be?” And then, she becomes not simply a passive recipient of this news. She responds by saying yes to this experience. She actively becomes a willing partner in the holy disruption that befalls her. And, because of her response, Mary’s womb gives birth to the Son of God and new life to the world.
Today’s gospel reading is all about the incarnation, it is about Emmanuel, God with us. Friends, this story of Mary is truly OUR story. It is about incarnate Love, incarnate Love that is with us, not just in a manger long ago but reborn in each one of us, reborn in the here and now. It is about saying yes to God’s incarnate love as it breaks into the most unexpected places and in the most surprising ways in each of our lives, saying yes so God is again born into this world. The 13th century philosopher, theologian, and mystic Meister Eckhart (1260-1328) echoes this when he writes:
We are all meant to be mothers of God. What good is it to me if this eternal birth of the divine Son takes place unceasingly, but does not take place within myself? And, what good is it to me if Mary is full of grace if I am not also full of grace? What good is it to me for the Creator to give birth to God’s very Son if I do not also give birth to him in my time and my culture? This, then, is the fullness of time: When the Son of Man is begotten in us.
Yes, Mary’s story is our story. Incarnation is an ongoing and steady process, not just a historic event. And, like Mary, we are given the gift of choice. Mary had the freedom to respond in this most unusual situation, and we are given this freedom as well. We can decide whether to take hold of the unknown life God holds out to us, even in these present, challenging circumstances, or whether to defend ourselves against it however we might.
Taylor says, “We have a similar choice between possibilities in our own lives. We can respond by saying yes or no: yes, I will live this life that is being held out to me or no, I will not.... You can say no to your life, but you can rest assured that no angels will trouble you ever again." And then, Taylor takes a bold turn that calls for courage on our part. She says, “If we say yes to our lives, you can take part in a thrilling and dangerous scheme with no script and no guarantees. You can agree to smuggle God into the world inside your own body." ("Mothers of God," is in Gospel Medicine).
So, friends, I ask you, how are you bearing God in this world? When we say yes, we become transformed, we are forever changed, and the world becomes transformed as we continue to give birth to the very life of Christ among us. When we say yes, we become a part of this movement that is the birthing of the growing Universal Christ in this world. And, the coming of Christ always brings forth a love, a peace and justice that transform the very world around us. You see, the love, peace and justice which come from God to transform the world, then work through us as we collectively act and live it in this world.
So, as we come to the end of this season of Advent, naming our longing for God to break in to what is and bring forth salvation, as we live in that transitional space that holds the past and the future in tension, we do this knowing that Christ is breaking in and Christ will continue to break in to the deep brokenness of this world. As we move through this week and again experience the coming of the Christ child, we know this birth means it is time for us to give birth to the Universal Christ. And, then it is time for the work of Christmas to truly begin, the “work of Christmas” Howard Thurman writes about when he says:
When the song of the angels is stilled,
when the star in the sky is gone,
when the kings and princes are home,
when the shepherds are back with their flocks,
the work of Christmas begins:
to find the lost,
to heal the broken,
to feed the hungry,
to release the prisoner,
to rebuild the nations,
to bring peace among the people,
to make music in the heart.
