Decorations, calendars, and piped-in music
Commentary
Everybody knows that Christmas decorations go up earlier every year. The retail world fights that battle all the time. Neighborhoods around my house have joined in the contest to see who can be first in the days around Thanksgiving. The trend toward more decorations continues as well. Houses with more than their share of lights are even highlighted on the local evening news. Most preachers have noticed that rush to Christmas before.
But I have learned something new about this season of the year. I noticed it last year for the first time. I share it with you to invite your observation. I frequent a convenience store near my home on a very regular basis. You can imagine the bustle around the coffee station or the cash register. Folks rushing to get to work or to catch the commuter train. Kids of all ages come in and go out. The place is always crowded. And there is this music playing. Background music, I guess. Not the radio, but some recording. Most of the songs you recognize. On a good and happy day, you may even sing along.
Last year during the weeks and days leading up to Christmas, I noticed it was the same recording playing over and over. If I heard a song, then I could guess the next song. And then I observed that each day the music kept getting louder. Maybe it was my reaction to the choice of holiday music, but it seemed to me that somebody was turning up the volume of the piped-in music day after day! The closer we came to Christmas Day, the louder the music. And, of course, as the holiday drew near, the stressful looks on the faces seemed a bit more intense. I'm not sure the music helped.
It's a metaphor for the time of year. Everything shifts into high gear. The pace of the calendar picks up and rushes to a crescendo. The pace of life picks up and spins out of control. When you add in the choir rehearsals, the pageant practice, and the extra worship services, the church offers more than its share to the hysteria. These days of Advent are not that far from negotiating the convenience store with the volume turned on high. Every pastor has seen the stress on the faces of the faithful who struggle to guide the family through obligations and visits, the rituals and the giving, while maintaining some handle on the truth and the joy of Christmas.
By the time the Fourth Sunday of Advent comes along, one wonders if the preacher has a chance, trying to proclaim a word into these last noisy days of confusion. No wonder so many turn to the choir for cantata! Or maybe it's time to move the pageant to Sunday morning? Can the faithful hear a word in the midst of the decorations, the calendar, and the piped-in music?
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
The First Lesson Focus below provides a critical look into the importance of this text in the Deuteronomic history. It also shows the importance of kingship and its relationship to the development of an understanding of the messiah. Within the framework of the bigger picture, the reader of the text will not want to miss the playful tone that comes with the term "house." David's desire is to build a house for the presence of God to dwell in the form of the ark. God responds to Nathan the prophet that David is hardly the one to provide God with a house. Even the tone of the reading can emphasize the play on words, "Are you the one to build me a house?" (v. 5). David longs to move beyond the wandering religious life symbolized by the ark housed in a tent. God promises to build David not just a house, but a dynasty.
Beginning in verse 8, God rehearses a bit of the history that comes with David. David was called out from the pasture, not even from the status of a strong shepherd, but as one who "followed the sheep" (v. 9). From that lowly status, David was called to be "prince over the people Israel" (v. 9). God has gone with David and protected him in the midst of his enemies. Here, amid the exchange related to which one is more capable of building the house, God offers the promise of the Davidic covenant. "I will make for you a great name, like the name of the great ones of the earth. And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, so that they may live in their own place.... Moreover, the Lord declares to you that Lord will make you a house" (vv. 10-11).
The lectionary break stops at verse 11 and then jumps to the exclamation point of verse 16: "Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; and your throne shall be established forever." However, in the verses in between, God extends the promise beyond David himself. The promise falls to the offspring and a kingdom is mentioned. While the history may indicate that the narrative speaks of Solomon at this point, the extension of the promise to the offspring of David certainly has relevance for Advent.
"I will make for you a great name ... The Lord will make you a house ... Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me, your throne shall be established forever." These words bear repeating when reflecting on the history of the monarchy. Indeed they bear repeating as one ponders the fulfillment of that history in the birth of Christ.
Romans 16:25-27
Preachers don't often preach the beginning or the ending of Paul's letters. In Romans alone there are so many more preachable texts. The salutations and the benedictions seem to fit better as liturgical responses, maybe a call to worship or the charge and benediction. The crisp offerings of praise and blessing from the pen of Paul stand for themselves, and seem to stand alone. Why try to say more?
The reader/listener will want to remember the profound theological rhetoric that flows through the chapters of Romans. The letter reflects Paul at his best wrestling with understandings of justification, sanctification, and slavery to the law and sin. It is here in Romans that Paul wrestles with the relationship of Israel to the God of Jesus Christ. He soars in Romans 8 talking about the love of God in Jesus Christ and then again in Romans 12 as he implores people of faith to offer themselves to God. So there is little shortage of preachable material in the chapters that come before Romans 16. Chapter 16 itself is full of greetings and formalities, and then Paul finishes with a doxology.
Notice the many themes tagged in the doxology. The reference to "my gospel" in verse 25 refers less to Paul's ownership and more to the content of his proclamation among them. Paul refers to the plan of salvation in terms of mystery, disclosure, fulfillment, and command. This terminology, used to invoke reference to the cross and resurrection, evolves from the more complex argument in the chapters of Romans. And in the last verse (v. 27) Paul returns to affirm the wisdom of God. He ends where he began, with an affirmation of the wisdom of God made known through the gospel of salvation which is intended for faith (1:16-17).
Even with some critical reflection, the verses here at the end of Romans really are just doxology. They do speak for themselves. Maybe they are best suited for a liturgical setting. Here, after the reader has encountered the material that many would argue reflects the essence and epitome of Paul's thought, he finishes with a simple word of praise. After the most involved theological arguments have played out, Paul takes time to sing a hymn. Before the dust has even settled on the encounter that comes between Paul's in-depth writing and the reader's hard work at understanding, Paul invites the church to give a word of thanks. Before the pen hits the table, Paul offers his work to the glory of God.
Luke 1:26-38
Students of Luke's Gospel remember that the writer has a fancy for details, times, names, and places. Here in the first chapter we are told about the sixth month, the angel named Gabriel, and a town in Galilee called Nazareth. It's hard to forget the familiar sounds of the first verses of chapter 2 that tell of Emperor Augustus and the first registration taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. For Luke, the narratives that tell of the birth of Christ are embedded in the specifics of history. The Annunciation, the angel's birth announcement offered to Mary, comes complete with the details of time, place, characters, and lineage.
The reader should not be as perplexed by the angel's visit as Mary herself, since Zechariah received a similar visit earlier in chapter 1. Mary's perplexed pondering at the angel's greetings offers a foreshadowing of the similar internal response that comes when the shepherds speak (2:19) or when Simeon offers that song (2:33). Familiar angelic words of "Do not be afraid" hardly balance the stirring words that speak of the birth of a child. Those words that tell of the birth of the child are sprinkled with messianic terms: "Son of the Most High," "Throne of the ancestor David," "his reign over the house of Jacob." To the eyes of faith such terms should not be missed.
In what may be a strong affirmation of the Incarnation, Mary's response centers more on the facts of pregnancy. Yes, that affirmation comes in the reports of the work of the Holy Spirit. But Mary, as a young woman, reacts as much to the prospects of childbirth. Such concern for the specifics of conception and birth when surrounded by the theological or spiritual connotations of Gabriel's messianic language confirms something of the fleshiness of the whole matter. And the proof, the divine proof offered by the angel, comes in the form of Elizabeth's pregnancy. Her conception and birthing is equally impossible on human terms. The rather timeless phrase, "For nothing will be impossible with God," is firmly rooted in the specifics of the Lukan account of the birth of Christ. Rather than offering some vast affirmation of the attributes of God to be tossed around at will, the angel Gabriel attests to God's miraculous action in the incarnation of Son of God.
Mary's simple response, "Here am I," sets the stage for the unfolding of the drama. More than the story of Christmas, what unfolds for Luke is the entire story that culminates with the proclamation of the Gospel to the Gentiles and the establishment of the church as told in the chapters of Luke-Acts, "Here am I" is a phrase that echoes the faithful response of the patriarchs and matriarchs and the prophets. The phrase affirms the call of God, the willingness of the servant, and the existence of that word of God that tells of the unfolding of the mystery of God's plan of salvation. The shortest of phrases from the lips of Mary come amid the details of time and place described by Luke. Here in this dialogue between Mary and Gabriel, the first word comes from God but the last word belongs to Mary. In the pageants of the church's collective memory we so easily remember the greeting, "Hail, O favored one." It's probably the response from Mary that we ought to remember and embody with the faithfulness of our lives. "Here am I!"
Application
All of us who preach struggle to find the words for the richest of liturgical occasions. The Fourth Sunday of Advent falls right in there, not far below Christmas Eve and Easter. The familiarity of the gospel lesson certainly contributes to the challenge of offering something new or different as the church gathers on what some routinely call "Christmas Sunday." It is true that life has more volume on this particular Sunday, and not all of it is good. The pressure of speaking a word when the competition for attention heats up is intense. We should all admit that none of us is that good. We can't pull it off year after year. So maybe we take a lesson from Paul. Maybe we turn to doxology.
With this text from Romans Paul spoke words of praise while the theological complexities were still bouncing off the walls. In terms of Advent, people no doubt will arrive for worship expecting the pastor to help preserve the meaning and the truth of Christmas. Families have given their time to all the other holiday voices and now its time to give that hour to making it all more meaningful. Remember, these aren't the nameless faces that will cause the crowding on Christmas Eve; these are the faithful looking to fit in the worship and find the holy in the confusion of their lives. Instead of being the sole bearer of meaning, perhaps the preacher can instead lead the doxology. I'm not talking about a hymn; that would be too easy. Though one person speaks, the preacher embodies all the voices, the voice of the church.
And on this Sunday, that voice shall offer praise. For what shall unfold among us in the days ahead is "the mystery that was kept for long ages." It is God's plan of salvation from the before time now made known to us in the birth of Savior. In these coming days we shall again celebrate the prophetic, disclosing, commanding love of God. The community of faith gathers now as the world flutters by; we gather now in yet another effort to save the meaning of what may have become the culture's ritual. The community of faith gathers to raise their voices, that their faithful worship in the days to come may be acts of praise. That Christmas this year, may in fact, be doxology.
"To the only wise God, through Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory forever! Amen."
Alternative Applications
1) Luke 1:26-38. One may simply have to preach the Gospel on this Sunday before Christmas! Luke's account of the Annunciation certainly provides a fruitful possibility. There may be few other days in church calendar with more attached to it than the Sunday before Christmas. For many people that certainly applies to the busyness of life as well. Everything adds up on this particular weekend of school programs, office parties, family obligations, church events, and neighborhood get-togethers. If Luke were providing the agenda, it would have to include more than simply month, place, and cast of characters. Yet, surrounded by the calendars of our lives, God still speaks. The simplicity of Mary's response to Gabriel's announcement offers a stark contrast to the artfully constructed busyness of our response to the birth of Christ.
2) Luke 1:26-38. The evidence Gabriel offers to support the promise of things to come rests in Elizabeth's pregnancy. Coupled with Mary's expressed concern with the nitty gritty of conception and childbirth, there is a lingering fleshiness to this angelic announcement. Despite the angel's lofty language that reflects the holiness of the expected child, Mary's first concern is with the human side of her being with child. With this divine announcement the rather ordinary details of human life bear witness to the holiness of God. The community of faith will gather for worship and grant the messianic titles to the child Jesus in song. We will tell of the Son of the Most High and we will hear many different titles granted to Christ who is of the house and lineage of David. However, with this announcement, Luke invites the church to look for the presence of Christ in the most ordinary and the least sacred places of life as well. This Fourth Sunday of Advent is all about the promise of God that invades the barren places of our faith and our life.
First Lesson Focus
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
All during Advent and the Christmas season, we Christians confess that the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ is the coming of the Lord's Messiah into our world. I'm not sure, however, that we really know what the term "Messiah" means or where it comes from. This particular text for this Fourth Sunday in Advent furnishes us the answers.
Certainly there are few more important passages in our whole Bible. In the Old Testament, 2 Samuel 7 forms the centerpiece of what is known as the Deuteronomic History, that runs from Deuteronomy through 2 Kings and that was compiled in its present shape in the sixth century B.C. Everything in the books of Deuteronomy, Joshua, and Judges leads up to and finds it climax in this chapter. And every thing that follows after is affected by it. In the New Testament, this text's story about God's promise to King David is fundamentally important for the identity of our Lord. So this is an exceedingly important text. But actually, it seems to start off in a very low key.
David became king over all of Israel in about 994 B.C. (2 Samuel 5:1-5), and he lived in a very grand palace that was built for him with the help of King Hiram of Tyre (2 Samuel 5:11). His enemies had all largely been subdued (2 Samuel 7:1), and so he looked for a way to honor the God who had given him such success.
Up to this point, the symbol of God's presence with his people -- the Ark of the Covenant -- had always been housed in a movable tent or tabernacle. So David decided to make a house, a temple, for the ark also. The Lord God, it was believed, was invisibly enthroned above the wings of the golden cherubim on the Ark of the Covenant, and David desired to honor that invisible God. The prophet Nathan at first approved of David's plan, but was then told in a word from the Lord at night that God desired no such temple. David was not to build a house for the Lord. Rather, the Lord would build a house for David, that is, the Lord would establish the Davidic dynasty.
God had called David when he was but a lowly shepherd boy. He had given David victory over all his enemies. But now God would do one more great act for David. He would establish David's throne forever. That is, God promises to David, through the words of the prophet Nathan, that there will never be lacking a Davidic heir to sit upon the throne of Israel. If David's son sins, the Lord will punish him, but he will not do away with the Davidic dynasty (never take his steadfast love from him, v. 15). More than that, as long as there is a Davidic king on the throne, Israel will live in God's favor and be afflicted by its enemies no more. "Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure for ever before me," says the Lord. "Your throne shall be established forever" (v. 16).
From this time on in the Old Testament, therefore, the fortunes of the covenant people of Israel and their standing with God are tied up with the Davidic kingship. If the Davidic kings are good kings, following in the way of he Lord, they will bring God's blessing on the people of Israel. If they are bad kings and unrighteous, then the people will be punished along with the king. The people's life is bound up with that of the Davidic monarch. And David is the anointed one, the mashiach, from which we get our word "Messiah." The Messiah in the Bible is God's anointed Davidic king. God has broken into Israel's history once more, as he broke into it in the time of the promise to Abraham, and he has made a new promise that will stand forever and that will affect everything that follows in Israel's life -- and in ours.
The result was, in Old Testament history, that there grew up in Israel a set of traditions about the office of the Davidic kingship. Such traditions were attached not to the actual historical occupants of the throne, but to the office itself. For example, as 2 Samuel says in verse 14, the Davidic king is God's adopted son (also in Psalm 2:7), and he enjoys special privilege with God. If he is a righteous king, he sits at the right hand of God (Psalm 110:1) and shares in God's plans. And God will give him victory over all of his enemies (Psalm 72:8-11; 18:1-19, 35-42; 21:8-13; 45;4-5; 89:22-23; 132:18 -- these are all known as "Royal Psalms"). Thus, the righteous Davidic king will enjoy a universal rule. But he will do much more than that. In the expectation of Israel, he will also bring internal justice, good, in short, shalom to his country (cf. Psalm 72). In the words of our hymn that is adapted from the messianic passage of Isaiah 32, he will be "like the shadow of a mighty rock within a weary land" (v. 2).
It is no wonder that from the time of the promise to David onward, Israel therefore looked forward to the coming of a righteous Davidic king, who would ensure their favor with God and who would bring all the benefits of God's blessings upon them. Israel wanted a Messiah, who would reign over all kingdoms in the power of God and who would usher in a new age of peace and righteousness and good.
The unsettling fact is that the Israel of the Old Testament never experienced the coming of such a Messiah. In fact, the last crowned occupant of the Davidic throne, Jehoiachin, was captured by the Babylonians in 597 B.C. and taken into exile with all of the leading citizens and religious leaders of Jerusalem and Judah. However, at the end of the Deuteronomic History, we are told that Jehoiachin is released from his prison in Babylonia, that he is given a place of honor at the Babylonian emperor's court, that he dines regularly at that emperor's table, and that he is given a daily allowance (2 Kings 25:27-30). In other words, the Deuteronomic Historians are saying that the Davidic heir still lives and, most important, God may still keep his promise.
So the question we are confronted with on this last Sunday in the Advent season is: Did God in fact keep his word? Did he finally fulfill his ancient promise to David of which we read in 2 Samuel 7? Is there still a Davidic heir upon the throne, and is he the ruler of the world?
Well, on Christmas Day we will once again remember and celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, born in the city of Bethlehem in the land of Judah, and heir of the lineage of David. That child will be called the Son of God, but this time, he will not be the adopted son. He will be the only begotten Son of God, born of the virgin Mary. During his ministry, he will perform acts that only God can do (cf. Mark 2:1-12), he will teach the ways of righteousness and goodness and peace, he will be hailed as the Messiah, the son of David, when he rides into Jerusalem on a donkey (Matthew 21:9; Luke 19:38), and even those who crucify him will have to confess that he is the long awaited King of the Jews (cf. John 19:19-22). Risen from the dead, he will be given all authority in heaven and on earth (Matthew 28:18), and he will rule at the right hand of God as Lord over all (Philippians 2:9-11; Mark 14:62). He will sit on the throne of David forever, and his kingdom will never end (Revelation 11:15). God's Messiah has come. We celebrate his birth. And in him, by faith, we can know righteousness and goodness and peace.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26
If you read only the verses from Psalm 89 designated by the lectionary for today, you may well see 89 as a royal psalm, perhaps even used as a hymn during a ritual of enthronement of a Davidic king. A reading of the whole psalm, especially verse 38 ff, however, shows that it is more a communal lament, written at a time when the continuity of the line of David on Israel's throne was in doubt. Still, the portion selected by the lectionary for today focuses on God's promise of the throne continually to David's line (actually the reading should not stop at verse 26 but go all the way to 37). Thus, the psalm can also be read as a messianic one, with the Promised One coming from the house of Judah.
It is unlikely you will choose to preach from the Psalter rather than the Gospel or the Epistle on this Sunday before Christmas Day, and not just because the latter are more directly applicable. The harder issue is that the psalm asks us to consider the bloodline of the Messiah, whereas for most Americans, who one's ancestors are means little. We have, probably quite rightly, learned to evaluate people on their own performance and track record rather than how well or ill their great-grandparents did. Indeed, some of us don't even have much idea about our own relatives that far back.
So if you are going to base a sermon on this psalm, it may be well to admit up front that we aren't much moved by lineage. In fact, it functions in Advent readings only to show that the Incarnation was the fulfillment of a Divine promise made centuries earlier. So this psalm, read by us after the first coming of Jesus, invites us to understand Christmas as an act of God keeping his promises. Clearly the New Testament writers understood Jesus as the fulfillment of God's promise and viewed Christians as the inheritors of that promise. When we are convinced of that, we can live our lives in a context of ultimate optimism and confidence.
But I have learned something new about this season of the year. I noticed it last year for the first time. I share it with you to invite your observation. I frequent a convenience store near my home on a very regular basis. You can imagine the bustle around the coffee station or the cash register. Folks rushing to get to work or to catch the commuter train. Kids of all ages come in and go out. The place is always crowded. And there is this music playing. Background music, I guess. Not the radio, but some recording. Most of the songs you recognize. On a good and happy day, you may even sing along.
Last year during the weeks and days leading up to Christmas, I noticed it was the same recording playing over and over. If I heard a song, then I could guess the next song. And then I observed that each day the music kept getting louder. Maybe it was my reaction to the choice of holiday music, but it seemed to me that somebody was turning up the volume of the piped-in music day after day! The closer we came to Christmas Day, the louder the music. And, of course, as the holiday drew near, the stressful looks on the faces seemed a bit more intense. I'm not sure the music helped.
It's a metaphor for the time of year. Everything shifts into high gear. The pace of the calendar picks up and rushes to a crescendo. The pace of life picks up and spins out of control. When you add in the choir rehearsals, the pageant practice, and the extra worship services, the church offers more than its share to the hysteria. These days of Advent are not that far from negotiating the convenience store with the volume turned on high. Every pastor has seen the stress on the faces of the faithful who struggle to guide the family through obligations and visits, the rituals and the giving, while maintaining some handle on the truth and the joy of Christmas.
By the time the Fourth Sunday of Advent comes along, one wonders if the preacher has a chance, trying to proclaim a word into these last noisy days of confusion. No wonder so many turn to the choir for cantata! Or maybe it's time to move the pageant to Sunday morning? Can the faithful hear a word in the midst of the decorations, the calendar, and the piped-in music?
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
The First Lesson Focus below provides a critical look into the importance of this text in the Deuteronomic history. It also shows the importance of kingship and its relationship to the development of an understanding of the messiah. Within the framework of the bigger picture, the reader of the text will not want to miss the playful tone that comes with the term "house." David's desire is to build a house for the presence of God to dwell in the form of the ark. God responds to Nathan the prophet that David is hardly the one to provide God with a house. Even the tone of the reading can emphasize the play on words, "Are you the one to build me a house?" (v. 5). David longs to move beyond the wandering religious life symbolized by the ark housed in a tent. God promises to build David not just a house, but a dynasty.
Beginning in verse 8, God rehearses a bit of the history that comes with David. David was called out from the pasture, not even from the status of a strong shepherd, but as one who "followed the sheep" (v. 9). From that lowly status, David was called to be "prince over the people Israel" (v. 9). God has gone with David and protected him in the midst of his enemies. Here, amid the exchange related to which one is more capable of building the house, God offers the promise of the Davidic covenant. "I will make for you a great name, like the name of the great ones of the earth. And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, so that they may live in their own place.... Moreover, the Lord declares to you that Lord will make you a house" (vv. 10-11).
The lectionary break stops at verse 11 and then jumps to the exclamation point of verse 16: "Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; and your throne shall be established forever." However, in the verses in between, God extends the promise beyond David himself. The promise falls to the offspring and a kingdom is mentioned. While the history may indicate that the narrative speaks of Solomon at this point, the extension of the promise to the offspring of David certainly has relevance for Advent.
"I will make for you a great name ... The Lord will make you a house ... Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me, your throne shall be established forever." These words bear repeating when reflecting on the history of the monarchy. Indeed they bear repeating as one ponders the fulfillment of that history in the birth of Christ.
Romans 16:25-27
Preachers don't often preach the beginning or the ending of Paul's letters. In Romans alone there are so many more preachable texts. The salutations and the benedictions seem to fit better as liturgical responses, maybe a call to worship or the charge and benediction. The crisp offerings of praise and blessing from the pen of Paul stand for themselves, and seem to stand alone. Why try to say more?
The reader/listener will want to remember the profound theological rhetoric that flows through the chapters of Romans. The letter reflects Paul at his best wrestling with understandings of justification, sanctification, and slavery to the law and sin. It is here in Romans that Paul wrestles with the relationship of Israel to the God of Jesus Christ. He soars in Romans 8 talking about the love of God in Jesus Christ and then again in Romans 12 as he implores people of faith to offer themselves to God. So there is little shortage of preachable material in the chapters that come before Romans 16. Chapter 16 itself is full of greetings and formalities, and then Paul finishes with a doxology.
Notice the many themes tagged in the doxology. The reference to "my gospel" in verse 25 refers less to Paul's ownership and more to the content of his proclamation among them. Paul refers to the plan of salvation in terms of mystery, disclosure, fulfillment, and command. This terminology, used to invoke reference to the cross and resurrection, evolves from the more complex argument in the chapters of Romans. And in the last verse (v. 27) Paul returns to affirm the wisdom of God. He ends where he began, with an affirmation of the wisdom of God made known through the gospel of salvation which is intended for faith (1:16-17).
Even with some critical reflection, the verses here at the end of Romans really are just doxology. They do speak for themselves. Maybe they are best suited for a liturgical setting. Here, after the reader has encountered the material that many would argue reflects the essence and epitome of Paul's thought, he finishes with a simple word of praise. After the most involved theological arguments have played out, Paul takes time to sing a hymn. Before the dust has even settled on the encounter that comes between Paul's in-depth writing and the reader's hard work at understanding, Paul invites the church to give a word of thanks. Before the pen hits the table, Paul offers his work to the glory of God.
Luke 1:26-38
Students of Luke's Gospel remember that the writer has a fancy for details, times, names, and places. Here in the first chapter we are told about the sixth month, the angel named Gabriel, and a town in Galilee called Nazareth. It's hard to forget the familiar sounds of the first verses of chapter 2 that tell of Emperor Augustus and the first registration taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. For Luke, the narratives that tell of the birth of Christ are embedded in the specifics of history. The Annunciation, the angel's birth announcement offered to Mary, comes complete with the details of time, place, characters, and lineage.
The reader should not be as perplexed by the angel's visit as Mary herself, since Zechariah received a similar visit earlier in chapter 1. Mary's perplexed pondering at the angel's greetings offers a foreshadowing of the similar internal response that comes when the shepherds speak (2:19) or when Simeon offers that song (2:33). Familiar angelic words of "Do not be afraid" hardly balance the stirring words that speak of the birth of a child. Those words that tell of the birth of the child are sprinkled with messianic terms: "Son of the Most High," "Throne of the ancestor David," "his reign over the house of Jacob." To the eyes of faith such terms should not be missed.
In what may be a strong affirmation of the Incarnation, Mary's response centers more on the facts of pregnancy. Yes, that affirmation comes in the reports of the work of the Holy Spirit. But Mary, as a young woman, reacts as much to the prospects of childbirth. Such concern for the specifics of conception and birth when surrounded by the theological or spiritual connotations of Gabriel's messianic language confirms something of the fleshiness of the whole matter. And the proof, the divine proof offered by the angel, comes in the form of Elizabeth's pregnancy. Her conception and birthing is equally impossible on human terms. The rather timeless phrase, "For nothing will be impossible with God," is firmly rooted in the specifics of the Lukan account of the birth of Christ. Rather than offering some vast affirmation of the attributes of God to be tossed around at will, the angel Gabriel attests to God's miraculous action in the incarnation of Son of God.
Mary's simple response, "Here am I," sets the stage for the unfolding of the drama. More than the story of Christmas, what unfolds for Luke is the entire story that culminates with the proclamation of the Gospel to the Gentiles and the establishment of the church as told in the chapters of Luke-Acts, "Here am I" is a phrase that echoes the faithful response of the patriarchs and matriarchs and the prophets. The phrase affirms the call of God, the willingness of the servant, and the existence of that word of God that tells of the unfolding of the mystery of God's plan of salvation. The shortest of phrases from the lips of Mary come amid the details of time and place described by Luke. Here in this dialogue between Mary and Gabriel, the first word comes from God but the last word belongs to Mary. In the pageants of the church's collective memory we so easily remember the greeting, "Hail, O favored one." It's probably the response from Mary that we ought to remember and embody with the faithfulness of our lives. "Here am I!"
Application
All of us who preach struggle to find the words for the richest of liturgical occasions. The Fourth Sunday of Advent falls right in there, not far below Christmas Eve and Easter. The familiarity of the gospel lesson certainly contributes to the challenge of offering something new or different as the church gathers on what some routinely call "Christmas Sunday." It is true that life has more volume on this particular Sunday, and not all of it is good. The pressure of speaking a word when the competition for attention heats up is intense. We should all admit that none of us is that good. We can't pull it off year after year. So maybe we take a lesson from Paul. Maybe we turn to doxology.
With this text from Romans Paul spoke words of praise while the theological complexities were still bouncing off the walls. In terms of Advent, people no doubt will arrive for worship expecting the pastor to help preserve the meaning and the truth of Christmas. Families have given their time to all the other holiday voices and now its time to give that hour to making it all more meaningful. Remember, these aren't the nameless faces that will cause the crowding on Christmas Eve; these are the faithful looking to fit in the worship and find the holy in the confusion of their lives. Instead of being the sole bearer of meaning, perhaps the preacher can instead lead the doxology. I'm not talking about a hymn; that would be too easy. Though one person speaks, the preacher embodies all the voices, the voice of the church.
And on this Sunday, that voice shall offer praise. For what shall unfold among us in the days ahead is "the mystery that was kept for long ages." It is God's plan of salvation from the before time now made known to us in the birth of Savior. In these coming days we shall again celebrate the prophetic, disclosing, commanding love of God. The community of faith gathers now as the world flutters by; we gather now in yet another effort to save the meaning of what may have become the culture's ritual. The community of faith gathers to raise their voices, that their faithful worship in the days to come may be acts of praise. That Christmas this year, may in fact, be doxology.
"To the only wise God, through Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory forever! Amen."
Alternative Applications
1) Luke 1:26-38. One may simply have to preach the Gospel on this Sunday before Christmas! Luke's account of the Annunciation certainly provides a fruitful possibility. There may be few other days in church calendar with more attached to it than the Sunday before Christmas. For many people that certainly applies to the busyness of life as well. Everything adds up on this particular weekend of school programs, office parties, family obligations, church events, and neighborhood get-togethers. If Luke were providing the agenda, it would have to include more than simply month, place, and cast of characters. Yet, surrounded by the calendars of our lives, God still speaks. The simplicity of Mary's response to Gabriel's announcement offers a stark contrast to the artfully constructed busyness of our response to the birth of Christ.
2) Luke 1:26-38. The evidence Gabriel offers to support the promise of things to come rests in Elizabeth's pregnancy. Coupled with Mary's expressed concern with the nitty gritty of conception and childbirth, there is a lingering fleshiness to this angelic announcement. Despite the angel's lofty language that reflects the holiness of the expected child, Mary's first concern is with the human side of her being with child. With this divine announcement the rather ordinary details of human life bear witness to the holiness of God. The community of faith will gather for worship and grant the messianic titles to the child Jesus in song. We will tell of the Son of the Most High and we will hear many different titles granted to Christ who is of the house and lineage of David. However, with this announcement, Luke invites the church to look for the presence of Christ in the most ordinary and the least sacred places of life as well. This Fourth Sunday of Advent is all about the promise of God that invades the barren places of our faith and our life.
First Lesson Focus
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
All during Advent and the Christmas season, we Christians confess that the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ is the coming of the Lord's Messiah into our world. I'm not sure, however, that we really know what the term "Messiah" means or where it comes from. This particular text for this Fourth Sunday in Advent furnishes us the answers.
Certainly there are few more important passages in our whole Bible. In the Old Testament, 2 Samuel 7 forms the centerpiece of what is known as the Deuteronomic History, that runs from Deuteronomy through 2 Kings and that was compiled in its present shape in the sixth century B.C. Everything in the books of Deuteronomy, Joshua, and Judges leads up to and finds it climax in this chapter. And every thing that follows after is affected by it. In the New Testament, this text's story about God's promise to King David is fundamentally important for the identity of our Lord. So this is an exceedingly important text. But actually, it seems to start off in a very low key.
David became king over all of Israel in about 994 B.C. (2 Samuel 5:1-5), and he lived in a very grand palace that was built for him with the help of King Hiram of Tyre (2 Samuel 5:11). His enemies had all largely been subdued (2 Samuel 7:1), and so he looked for a way to honor the God who had given him such success.
Up to this point, the symbol of God's presence with his people -- the Ark of the Covenant -- had always been housed in a movable tent or tabernacle. So David decided to make a house, a temple, for the ark also. The Lord God, it was believed, was invisibly enthroned above the wings of the golden cherubim on the Ark of the Covenant, and David desired to honor that invisible God. The prophet Nathan at first approved of David's plan, but was then told in a word from the Lord at night that God desired no such temple. David was not to build a house for the Lord. Rather, the Lord would build a house for David, that is, the Lord would establish the Davidic dynasty.
God had called David when he was but a lowly shepherd boy. He had given David victory over all his enemies. But now God would do one more great act for David. He would establish David's throne forever. That is, God promises to David, through the words of the prophet Nathan, that there will never be lacking a Davidic heir to sit upon the throne of Israel. If David's son sins, the Lord will punish him, but he will not do away with the Davidic dynasty (never take his steadfast love from him, v. 15). More than that, as long as there is a Davidic king on the throne, Israel will live in God's favor and be afflicted by its enemies no more. "Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure for ever before me," says the Lord. "Your throne shall be established forever" (v. 16).
From this time on in the Old Testament, therefore, the fortunes of the covenant people of Israel and their standing with God are tied up with the Davidic kingship. If the Davidic kings are good kings, following in the way of he Lord, they will bring God's blessing on the people of Israel. If they are bad kings and unrighteous, then the people will be punished along with the king. The people's life is bound up with that of the Davidic monarch. And David is the anointed one, the mashiach, from which we get our word "Messiah." The Messiah in the Bible is God's anointed Davidic king. God has broken into Israel's history once more, as he broke into it in the time of the promise to Abraham, and he has made a new promise that will stand forever and that will affect everything that follows in Israel's life -- and in ours.
The result was, in Old Testament history, that there grew up in Israel a set of traditions about the office of the Davidic kingship. Such traditions were attached not to the actual historical occupants of the throne, but to the office itself. For example, as 2 Samuel says in verse 14, the Davidic king is God's adopted son (also in Psalm 2:7), and he enjoys special privilege with God. If he is a righteous king, he sits at the right hand of God (Psalm 110:1) and shares in God's plans. And God will give him victory over all of his enemies (Psalm 72:8-11; 18:1-19, 35-42; 21:8-13; 45;4-5; 89:22-23; 132:18 -- these are all known as "Royal Psalms"). Thus, the righteous Davidic king will enjoy a universal rule. But he will do much more than that. In the expectation of Israel, he will also bring internal justice, good, in short, shalom to his country (cf. Psalm 72). In the words of our hymn that is adapted from the messianic passage of Isaiah 32, he will be "like the shadow of a mighty rock within a weary land" (v. 2).
It is no wonder that from the time of the promise to David onward, Israel therefore looked forward to the coming of a righteous Davidic king, who would ensure their favor with God and who would bring all the benefits of God's blessings upon them. Israel wanted a Messiah, who would reign over all kingdoms in the power of God and who would usher in a new age of peace and righteousness and good.
The unsettling fact is that the Israel of the Old Testament never experienced the coming of such a Messiah. In fact, the last crowned occupant of the Davidic throne, Jehoiachin, was captured by the Babylonians in 597 B.C. and taken into exile with all of the leading citizens and religious leaders of Jerusalem and Judah. However, at the end of the Deuteronomic History, we are told that Jehoiachin is released from his prison in Babylonia, that he is given a place of honor at the Babylonian emperor's court, that he dines regularly at that emperor's table, and that he is given a daily allowance (2 Kings 25:27-30). In other words, the Deuteronomic Historians are saying that the Davidic heir still lives and, most important, God may still keep his promise.
So the question we are confronted with on this last Sunday in the Advent season is: Did God in fact keep his word? Did he finally fulfill his ancient promise to David of which we read in 2 Samuel 7? Is there still a Davidic heir upon the throne, and is he the ruler of the world?
Well, on Christmas Day we will once again remember and celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, born in the city of Bethlehem in the land of Judah, and heir of the lineage of David. That child will be called the Son of God, but this time, he will not be the adopted son. He will be the only begotten Son of God, born of the virgin Mary. During his ministry, he will perform acts that only God can do (cf. Mark 2:1-12), he will teach the ways of righteousness and goodness and peace, he will be hailed as the Messiah, the son of David, when he rides into Jerusalem on a donkey (Matthew 21:9; Luke 19:38), and even those who crucify him will have to confess that he is the long awaited King of the Jews (cf. John 19:19-22). Risen from the dead, he will be given all authority in heaven and on earth (Matthew 28:18), and he will rule at the right hand of God as Lord over all (Philippians 2:9-11; Mark 14:62). He will sit on the throne of David forever, and his kingdom will never end (Revelation 11:15). God's Messiah has come. We celebrate his birth. And in him, by faith, we can know righteousness and goodness and peace.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26
If you read only the verses from Psalm 89 designated by the lectionary for today, you may well see 89 as a royal psalm, perhaps even used as a hymn during a ritual of enthronement of a Davidic king. A reading of the whole psalm, especially verse 38 ff, however, shows that it is more a communal lament, written at a time when the continuity of the line of David on Israel's throne was in doubt. Still, the portion selected by the lectionary for today focuses on God's promise of the throne continually to David's line (actually the reading should not stop at verse 26 but go all the way to 37). Thus, the psalm can also be read as a messianic one, with the Promised One coming from the house of Judah.
It is unlikely you will choose to preach from the Psalter rather than the Gospel or the Epistle on this Sunday before Christmas Day, and not just because the latter are more directly applicable. The harder issue is that the psalm asks us to consider the bloodline of the Messiah, whereas for most Americans, who one's ancestors are means little. We have, probably quite rightly, learned to evaluate people on their own performance and track record rather than how well or ill their great-grandparents did. Indeed, some of us don't even have much idea about our own relatives that far back.
So if you are going to base a sermon on this psalm, it may be well to admit up front that we aren't much moved by lineage. In fact, it functions in Advent readings only to show that the Incarnation was the fulfillment of a Divine promise made centuries earlier. So this psalm, read by us after the first coming of Jesus, invites us to understand Christmas as an act of God keeping his promises. Clearly the New Testament writers understood Jesus as the fulfillment of God's promise and viewed Christians as the inheritors of that promise. When we are convinced of that, we can live our lives in a context of ultimate optimism and confidence.
