Advent 4 - The Messengers

This time of year, at least for me, it seems the veil between my understanding of reality and the realm of God’s spiritual presence draws much, much thinner. In the deep darkness of this season, that veil gets much harder to see, harder to distinguish what is “real” and what is “spirit.” In fact, the truth of the matter is there is no veil, we are surrounded by Spirit, the Spirit of God, which animates our reality. God has come close to us and, at times like this, that closeness becomes much more clear.

Mary, the mother of Jesus, has an encounter where the veil between flesh and spirit and light and darkness draws very thin. She is met by a messenger from the Spirit, an angel, who will speak to her and completely reorient Mary’s reality to one where she sees God’s purposes, participates in God’s movement, and receives the impossible, the Christ child, as her own son.

Let’s hear the spirited, magnificent, holy, enfleshed story where Mary receives the Spirit’s blessing as Mother of God.

Luke 1:26-38

Luke 1:26–38 NRSV

26 In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, 27 to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. 28 And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” 29 But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. 30 The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. 31 And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. 32 He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. 33 He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” 34 Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” 35 The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. 36 And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. 37 For nothing will be impossible with God.” 38 Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.

Mary receives the message from the Angel Gabriel with humility and poise. She hears a word that can only come in the form of a spiritual, supernatural greeting from the spirit God has sent to reveal it to her. She adapts to the context — this is no ordinary message, this is no ordinary child.

Are we willing to receive a message from God that comes in such a form? A calling which lights up our own spirit?

The answers to those questions are never clear. They are of a spiritual quality that requires discernment and deep listening to answer. They are perplexing. They require us to ponder and sit with them. But we must. Are we willing to enter this spiritual reality and hear a message, as Mary does?

Mary was much perplexed and pondered what this might be about. She is afraid, of course. We fear what we do not know. We fear what we cannot see or comprehend.

In order to see and hear and understand, we must invite the Spirit’s presence to cover us, to speak to us, to give us eyes to see and ears to hear.

In our text today, we hear that the Spirit overshadows Mary — a spiritual covering, an encounter that is outside our understanding (clouded/enshrouded).

And we know that we must listen to the story of this young woman. We have to believe Mary. The story of this young woman shapes our entire reality — we must not doubt her, but draw in close to listen to her.

And listen to her response: Here I am — she possesses a willingness to give herself over to a reality she do not fully comprehend but trusts is good, for the liberation of humanity.

This story of Mary and the Annunciation of Christ’s birth is accompanied by Mary’s response. What she has to say about what has happened. We call this the Magnificat, Mary’s song.

Whatever we make of the spiritual reality here, we have this response. A response from someone who was “perplexed” about the encounter as well. And what Mary says magnifies the reality of the Spirit’s interaction with her: She gives glory to God for liberating humanity through this gift of the Christ. Let’s hear her song, from Luke 1:46-56.

Luke 1:46–56 NRSV

46 And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, 47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 48 for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 49 for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. 50 His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. 51 He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. 52 He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; 53 he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. 54 He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, 55 according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.” 56 And Mary remained with her about three months and then returned to her home.

(SLOW DOWN THROUGH HERE)

When we encounter the Spirit of the Lord…all we can do is bow down and hold that holy, sacred space in reverence.

What does the Spirit of the Lord bring? What does the Messiah mean? What is the Messiah’s end, purpose?

Looks on his servants with favor

Makes legendary the lowly and blesses them

Shows mercy through history to those who revere the acts of the Spirit

Think of the many people through history God has blessed and set apart because of their faithful response to the Spirit’s nudging

And God scatters the proud, the certain, the “have-it-all-togethers” and the “I know how this actually works” people. The message of the Christ is one, as we have heard, that makes level the mountains and brings the valleys up, makes straight the roads and draws all to it’s Spirit.

God brings down the ones who sit on thrones and lord their power over the poor. Here, again, there is no longer space for the mighty to sit above the poor. Thrones are cast down, positions of power are realigned and remade, becoming servants, praising God.

It is the poor who are lifted up, given a view of this deeper spiritual reality of God with us

The hungry are filled — not just with food, but their spirits are nourished, their hungry hearts made full.

The rich, who seek to fill their own stomachs at the expense of others, but never reach a true sense of God’s presence, walk away starving in the end.

God has been faithful to the promises God made, even to the most ancient of our ancestors, faithful to provide for us a land, a place, and a hope.

And God has welcomed all creation to join in this restored history, relinquishing our powers and submitting to the goodness of life in unity and collaboration with one another and our creator.

When God calls us to be light, God is inviting us into this way of dramatically reordering the cosmos, all reality. It is to be made a servant and a magnifier ourselves. To be, now, the ones who shine the light of Christ, who bring it in close, who share our lives with one another and who testify to the power the light brings. No longer are we strangers. No longer are we orphans. We are, like Mary, a part of the line of God’s people, the people of the light. And so we shine. And so we magnify. And so we serve and love and offer our praise to the one who is our foundation, our cornerstone, the deep hum and song and light that is at the ground of all things, the Holy Spirit, Christ, Emmanuel, God, with us.

Gabriel’s message about the light, to Mary, is an announcement of this reality. Mary’s song is a humble, yet mighty, example of what it means to respond to this reality. She shows us what it means to respond to and magnify the light. To be the light, in the darkest of places, out of despair, out of fear, out of feeling unqualified or unable to achieve what God expects. We become lights to the world as we respond in times of joy and times of sorrow with a faithfulness to this ground of being, this firm foundation, that says, may it be unto us according to your purpose.

When we do this, when we respond, where does it lead us?

As we know, there is rubble in Bethlehem this year.

Hear this note from a recent NPR article:

But this year there will be no Christmas in the city that is synonymous with the birth of Jesus, located in the Israeli-occupied West Bank. Last month, Palestinian leaders of Christian denominations here came together, and citing the devastating war in Gaza made a unanimous decision to cancel public celebrations.

There's no Christmas tree or sparkling lights in Manger Square or along the cobble-stone streets that should be bustling with foreign tourists this time of year. There will be no Christmas parade with musicians weaving through the old city's labyrinth walkways, no Santas on street corners doling out joy to children. Instead, the main square is a simple parking lot, without a hint of holiday decoration to be seen.

Sadly, this is not a narrative about there not being enough Christmas spirit for Santa’s sleigh to fly. Or a story about a happy ending for a high-powered lawyer who sweeps in to save her family’s Christmas tree farm while falling in love with her high school sweetheart.

No, this is reality. There is no Christmas celebration at the place where this miraculous, light-bringing, awakening, spirit-filled encounter with humanity, where God becomes one with us, incarnated. This year, there is no Christmas in Bethlehem.

Many churches have featured a brilliant photo of a staged nativity, where Jesus is buried among the rubble of a broken building, likely rubble from Hamas or Israeli forces fighting for territory.

If Christ were born among us today, perhaps it wouldn’t be to a manger or stable. If Mary heard this annunciation, perhaps it wouldn’t be in the quiet of a still night. Instead, the baby is born into the rubble. Mary hears the angels words amidst air raid sirens and gun fire. The Holy family is in the rubble. Jesus is in the rubble.

Mary’s song, and her reception of the angel’s word, leads her into the rubble. She sees a reality where all our attempts at lording power, warring for territory, killing in the name of religion, is undone. Mary sees a reality where the forces of God’s spirit are moving in and through us, guiding us to a way of light amidst the darkness. Mary magnifies the light she has encountered. She gets close in.

For us, to be the light, it is to step into the rubble, as well. To be with Christ in the reality of a broken world AND, in the face of such pain, proclaim a message of Good News of Great Joy for All People.

So it must be with us. We must be the light. We have heard the message, the God’s spirit is miraculously breaking through, coming close, drawing us in, making us one with God’s movement in this chaotic, hurting world. Mary magnifies the light. We are called to magnify the light. To get into the rubble, find the hurting, bring what we can, and together, celebrate that the light conquers the darkness.

May you find a light, my friends, that guides you deeper into Christ’s love today. Amen.