Lectionary Readings for Sunday, December 23, 2007

Lectionary Readings for Sunday, December 23, 2007
Fourth Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 7:10-16
Psalm 80:1-7,17-19
Romans 1:1-7
Matthew 1:18-25

We have been waiting.

We who have heard about a lion befriending a lamb, who keep an eye on the wolves that stalk our cattle, we have been waiting.

We who have seen how quickly a crocus blossom fades have been waiting.

We whose ears strain to hear life speaking have been waiting.

We whose lives are like braided streams have been waiting for a river of life to announce itself.

We who notice how early night's shadow falls over the land on a December afternoon, we who know those shadows in our own lives too, we have been waiting.

Our waiting has been informed by hope, the God-given antidote to futility that allows us to wait as an act of responsibility instead of an exercise in denial.

In hope we have been waiting. Each Advent Sunday has reminded us what we are waiting for.

But now, on this fourth Sunday of Advent, the tense changes. Visions of the future give way to a past event that tells of a the inevitable clash between circumstance and a fulfillment of hope. Matthew will not begin his story with the easy tones of “Once upon a time,” nor will he begin his story with prophesy. Instead he writes of an event in history in which circumstance vied with purpose on a landscape given over to the night.

Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.’ All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

‘Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and they shall name him Emmanuel’,

which means, ‘God is with us.’ When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.



Christmas may be “merry” but Matthew's story is conflicted. In his version:

Circumstance speaks of betrayal;

Circumstance speaks of ways to cover-up an untoward truth;

Circumstance speaks of a man surrendering the day's drama and wrapping himself in night's sleep with a heavy and troubled heart;

Circumstance speaks of fear;

To all of this the God, one of whose names in Hebrew is Life, has a response.

“I know this is not what you expected. Now, let me be God. I too have plans. Let's see them through.” We find ourselves in good company with Joseph. Is there an illness that is not in some ways a betrayal of the body? We too have had plans and expectations designed to bring order to our world just as Joseph and Mary had plans and expectations that were to have brought order to their world. And we too know how circumstance has the power to seemingly thwart it all.

As we give ourselves over to the story hope differentiates itself from expectation. As always it demands truth. Yesterday I was in touch with a woman who, like so many others is living the life whose factual diagnosis is “cancer.” But the fact of the matter is our brief conversation wasn't about cancer. It was about courage, patience, hope and connection. Had the angel not appeared fear might well have claimed the day. Had Joseph waited for Luke's heavenly host to appear in the sky singing “Angels we have heard on high” it might have been a long wait indeed. But hope's river is wide and God has many ways to connect with us. Angels can navigate the landscape of dreams just as surely as they can appear in the stars. Either God would have us set fear aside as we embrace life.

Like those who waited for Isaiah's vision to “come true,” like Joseph, like our friends in the midst of a long and difficult recovery, we have been waiting for circumstances to change. We learn in the Christmas story that they will not disappear but we can see our way through them. A surely conflicted relationship will heal, a message from God will prompt Joseph to obey, a name will be given, circumstance will not claim the day. We find ourselves in a virtual symphony of life occurring in the most unexpected of places. If life has five leading causes (and I hasten to add that if you believe it has six or seven that's wonderful!) they are all engaged.

God connects with humankind, and it happened “this way.” An angel connected with a man troubled by a fundamental disconnect in his life.

A name, “God is with us” establishes coherence as only a name that emphasizes the plural can do.

Plans are made; plans change; new plans are drawn as fear is set aside. Fear is the only static part of the story and it receives its divine checkmate.

At every turn hope authors the story we take as a blessing.

I think of my friend in the hospital waiting for cancer therapy to reconnect her with health and realize that as she does do she is full of life. I think of her diagnosis as an unchosen journey shared by millions. I think of the plans that were made only to be changed as one day led to the next. When I think how improbable it is to assert that God is with us when circumstance wants to rule the day I am newly grateful for Matthew's rendition of Christ's birth in the midst of a sea of difficulty.

I realize again how visceral, how gut-wrenching life is and how amazing it is that God travels with us throughout it all. Not long ago, in a conversation about rehabilitation, the comment was made that rehab is designed to improve or to better people's lives. I was taken aback for a moment. We can improve circumstances, but improving life is, to me at least, an odd thought. As we learn from this child born so long ago, our gratitude to have a chance to give God thanks for the gift of life knows no bounds.

In church this Sunday, we will hear Matthew tell us, “Life happened this way.” We will not care that Luke might way, “No, it actually happened this way,” or that John would ask us to turn our attention to the very beginning. In each case the often harsh voice of circumstance will meet its match as the One who has never left us returns once again.

Thanks be to God, and blessings unto you.

Larry

I welcome your response to these columns. I may be reached at:
Larry@Leadingcausesoflife.org
Or
Larrypray@gmail.com