Sermon
Micah 5:2-51, Luke 1:39-55
Micah 5:2-51, Luke 1:39-55
Tomorrow
night at 4 p.m., the children of St. Mark’s will share the story of the
incarnation through the drama of the Christmas pageant. It is an event many of
us look forward to because it is predictably unpredictable in its presentation. There will probably be animals that sing and
certainly there will be small statured shepherds and angels. Someone might forget their lines and someone
else may decide at the last minute that they want a different role. But one thing
is certain, the story will be told. But
there is something more than heartwarming that goes on when the story of God’s
good news comes from unexpected voices.
There is a truth being told about the nature of God’s Good News – that
God’s good news comes from unexpected places and unexpected voices - that God’s
Good News is often delivered through the mouths of those least qualified to
share it.
The
Gospel of Luke takes great pains to teach us this truth. Two women, Elizabeth and Mary, are both
pregnant. The first is married to a
priest and while it was thought she could have no children and, in her old age,
could certainly not conceive, her pregnancy is something to rejoice over. Not only because it is a miracle but because
she is a woman who is known to be righteous and living blamelessly – again, did
I mention, she is married to a
priest![1] The second woman is barely a woman at all.
She is a young girl who is unwed and is, let’s face it, suspiciously
pregnant. There would have been talk in
her town. So these two women who couldn’t be more unlike one another in their
circumstances meet. And in this
encounter we have the very first gathering of the community of Jesus – long
before the disciples are called, long before the church begins to grow, long
before, we have two women who are completely unqualified by social standards to
share the Good News doing just that – sharing the Good News as they announce
for the first time, the Good News that will become Jesus, the Messiah. “Blessed are you among women and is the fruit
of your womb” cries out Elizabeth![2]
But
not only is the Good News proclaimed by those least qualified to share it, the
Good News IS itself completely unexpected. For Jesus comes not from the ruling
class, not from the priestly class, but, as the prophet Micah tells us, from “Bethlehem
of Ephrathah. . . one of the little clans of Judah.” Not Jerusalem, but Bethlehem. And there’s more. This savior, this Messiah,
will not come with sword drawn but instead will be “the one of peace.”[3] This savior, this Messiah, will not come decked
out in military regalia but instead will stand before the people as a shepherd
to “feed his flock.”[4] Everyone’s expectations are turned upside
down. Micah tells us something brand new is going to break into the world –
like nothing and like no one they have seen before – like nothing and like no
one we have seen before.
The
hope of Advent is rooted in a longing for a change in the way things are in the
world. And for this reason it is a season whose hopeful theme can challenge
those who are on top of the social ladder; for as Israeli human rights activist
Uri Avnery says, “When you are on the top, you love stability.” It is only when
you are on the bottom, that you want change, only when you are on the bottom
that you truly long for the world to be the way God would have it be.[5] Soon the choir will sing the Magnificat, a
revolutionary poem recited by Mary immediately after her encounter with
Elizabeth. It is a poem that speaks of
the way God would have the world – a place where the proud are scattered, the
powerful are brought down, the rich sent away empty and a place where the lowly
are lifted up and the hungry are filled with good things.[6] This is no sweet lullaby to the yet unborn
savior of the world. This is the proclamation of the mother of a revolutionary
who will set the world on edge as God’s reign breaks into the weary world below.
And
you and I? We pray for this to happen.
We pray for it not just in Advent but every Sunday in worship and some
of us pray it in our daily lives. We
pray: “Our Father who art in heaven hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy
will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done.
It’s an Advent prayer – a prayer that dares to ask for the great
reversal to occur in our time and in our lives. Alan Gregory, Principal at St.
Augustine College of Theology in the UK describes Jesus’ birth as happening in
the midst of an empire – in the middle of a census, “the bureaucratic mechanism
of political control” and goes on to say that “God slips through the census,
through the powers of the world, to set up his rule against their pride, in the
obscurity of Bethlehem and the weakness of the cross.”[7] When you and I pray the Lord’s prayer, I
imagine God slipping through the powers of our world once again, through the
powers that hold us bound to sin, that powers that threaten to choke off the
imagination of hope, I imagine God slipping through to dwell with us each time
we utter those words – thy kingdom come, they will be done – to give us the
strength and the courage we need.
We
are in the final hours of our Advent observation. We are standing with
Elizabeth and Mary as the gathered community of Jesus followers. We are standing with Micah setting our hope
on something we cannot describe because we haven’t fully known it yet. We are standing together as the Body of
Christ boldly – maybe even recklessly – asking God to slip in among us to prod
us toward the reign of God on earth. We
will gather tomorrow evening again to listen to the story of the first time God
slipped passed the powers into the world to dwell among us and that story will
be told in the voices of those the world says are least qualified to proclaim –
the voices of little children. Perhaps
in that we might see already a sign of God’s reign breaking into our world.
[1]
Luke 1:6.
[2]
Luke 1:42.
[3]
Micah 5:5.
[4]
Micah 5:4.
[5]
Uri Avnery quoted in Daniel L. Smith-Christopher, “Micah 5:2-5a: Commentary 1:
Connecting the Reading with Scripture,” Connections:
A Lectionary Commentary for Preaching and Worship, editors Joel B. Green,
et. al., Year C, Volume 1, Advent through Epiphany, (Louisville: Westminster
John Knox Press, 2018), 49.
[6]
Luke 1:51-53.
[7]
Alan Gregory, “Micah 5:2-5a: Commentary 2: Connecting the Reading with the
World,” Connections, 51.
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