Advent 4, 2023
Preacher: The Very Rev'd Dr Paul Shackerley
Date: Sunday 24th December 2023
Service: Cathedral Eucharist
Readings: Luke 1: 26-38
The Pattern of God’s Call Always Involved an Objection
The pattern of God’s call always involved an objection. The call of Moses at the start of Exodus, he protests his lack of eloquence ‘I am slow of speech and slow of tongue’, he told God. Isaiah protests his unworthiness ‘I am a man of unclean lips’, while Jeremiah protests that he’s too young, ‘I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy’, he told God. God’s commission is always followed by an objection, a protest. But, in each case God’s assurance follows and God’s calling is embraced.
We see this same pattern of objection, protest, when God calls Mary to house Jesus in her womb. She objected, ‘how can this be, since I am a virgin?’ But God’s reassurance follows, and Mary embraces her calling. One writer has described Mary as the one who is first depicted as a believer. She is the first Christian disciple. Consider her life in an obscure town in north Galilee that isn’t mentioned at all in the Old Testament. History recounts little about the life of provincial Jewish families in the first century northern Palestine, with having no expectations for her life with Joseph beyond the ordinary. Yet, in that place, obscure, unknown to the world in many respects, God calls Mary in an extraordinary way.
God called Mary to be God’s home, a place where God dwells, where the Word became flesh and dwelt with us and within us, Emmanuel, God with us. Mary will nurture and grow Jesus in her body. God is not seen in wood and stone, in our buildings, but in human beings. Mary isn’t chosen for anything she has done. She hasn’t earned the right to be the mother of God. It was God’s decision, which she eventually agrees to after her initial protest, questioning, and objection. I have witnessed this over last five years discerning candidates for priesthood, listening to the stories of their lives, with their joys and failures, their objections of not being good enough, and their hesitancy. This is a sign the God is beckoning into that unknown place of vocation, whatever that is, lay or ordained. Tomorrow we will hear the story of Christ’s birth again.
This story, like all the stories in holy Scripture, have been handed down through the centuries. From the obscure town of Nazareth to the House of Bread, Bethlehem. (Bethlehem means House of Bread.) When you really think about it, many of our best-loved stories are probably are memorable for their truth and teaching, either fiction or fact. Take Scrooge for example; does any one of us believe that Ebenezer was really visited by three ghosts? We know that it is a story that never actually happened the way it has been told to us; and yet it has the power to take us somewhere, to move us as we watch the incredible transformation of old Scrooge, and we too are moved to keep Christmas well. One thing I do know for sure, is that you can tell just how good a story is by how well it takes people somewhere, or if its moves them, or transforms them. Stories that take you places, stories that move us, stories that transform us, these stories we tell repeatedly. Really good stories, like the stories around the birth of Jesus, shepherds, kings, stable, exile and journey, have been told repeatedly for generations reaching back centuries. They are stories that are continually told in scared places and on holy days, to take us to places where our humanity needs to go to be transformed and changed.
The Christmas story reminds us that God chooses to dwell within humanity. God chooses to be at home with us. God chooses to work through humanity, however inadequate, and this should make our lives resound with echoes of praise tomorrow. When you celebrate tonight/tomorrow, remember God has chosen you to tell the story of love through your lives, because God dwells in you and me. Not because we’ve worked for it. Not because we are wealthy or popular. But solely because he loves. Remember this as we teeter on the brink of the Christmas story today, we hear afresh the story that transports us to gaze at the mystery we call God. As we prepare our homes for celebrations tomorrow, give thanks that God has chosen to dwell in you just as God chose to dwell in King David and Mary. The story of Christmas, and Christ’s life should be echoed in our own lives. There is an ancient song sung in darkness on Holy Saturday night, before Christmas day. We sing it here, and the words that prepares for the resurrection are just as fitting for Christmas, ‘O truly blessed night, when things of heave are wed to those of earth, and divine to human…’ and it goes on, May the flame be found still burning by the Morning Star; the one Morning Star (Christ) who never sets, Christ your Son, who coming back from death’s domain, has shed his peaceful light on humanity, and lives and reigns for ever and ever.’ (The Exultet, Easter Song).
When we stand in front of a work of art, we don’t ask is this true or false? Did this scene really happen? Rather, we recognise other truths of our humanity. Does this painting touch me? Does this music move me? Does this movie inspire me? Does this poetry touch the heart. How does this work of art, music, poetry, play or movie change the way I think about the world and mystery we know is love? I believe that the stories about the birth of Jesus have been told repeatedly, on holy days, in sacred places and not so sacred places for more than 20 centuries precisely because they tell us something about the Mystery that lies at the very heart of our existence, the Mystery that some of us call Emmanuel, God with us and within us. The birth narrative helps us to explore the nature of our relationship with that mystery in ways that have the power to transform how we live with hope in a weary world. In the stories of Jesus’ birth, we learn that this Mystery we call God is intimately involved with the stuff of life. Over and over again, within the story of Jesus’ birth we see people living with, and struggling with, both the horrors and the joys of this life, and over and over again the message comes clearly and profoundly to us, the message that we long for, in a few simple but oh so powerful words: “Do not be afraid. Emmanuel, God is with us”
So, here in this place: we declare that long ago, a child of questionable parentage was born under very precarious conditions, born to homeless wanderers, in a place fit for animals. Here, we declare and proclaim the story that this strange birth had cosmic dimensions. The night skies lit up, celestial voices and songs were heard by nearby shepherds, Even the planets aligned themselves so as to attract the attention of far-off astrologers. Here, we proclaim that this child born in poverty, in dangerous times, under such precarious circumstance is also Divine. We are all born with the power and the potential to touch our world in such a way that it will be a more just and humane place for our having been here. We are born with into the mystery of life endowed with the capacity to say to one another with our lives and with our love: ‘Do not be afraid.’ For God is with is. As the hymn O holy night goes….’A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices, For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn’. The Christmas story has the power to transform how we live with hope in a weary world.
