The mystery revealed
Commentary
In the second lesson for this Sunday, Paul speaks of "the revelation of the mystery that was kept secret for long ages but is now disclosed" (Romans 16:25). Our culture doesn't talk much about mystery anymore. Part of the so-called modern age has been the pursuit of explanations for life's mysteries. Now, for instance, genetics is exploring the make-up of the human personality and body. We are told that soon we will be able to engineer the development of humans by the manipulations of the structure of genes. Some speculate that the individual differences among people (even among siblings) may soon be accounted for by that genetic code we all carry around within us.
On the other hand, while we are in the process of penetrating many of the mysteries of life that have long puzzled us, there seems also to be a longing for the restoration of mystery. The popularity of angels, for instance, suggests that people want to believe that there is a mysterious dimension to human existence. So there is much talk about being "touched by an angel." You can even buy a t-shirt with the title of the television show of the same name inscribed on it. There is a yearning, if you will, for something we do not know and perhaps cannot know. Maybe deep inside of us resides a need to believe there is some reality beyond our own that remains veiled from the vision of our minds.
On this last Sunday of Advent, standing on the threshold of the celebration of the Nativity, it is well for us to consider the mystery of which Paul speaks. Indeed, for the Christian, the advent among us of the Son of God, the very Word of God, comprises the central mystery of our faith. How is it that the Ultimate Reality could become present among humans in the form of a tiny baby born of a virgin? We don't try to explain such a mystery; we only celebrate it. Yet Paul claims that the mystery has been revealed, made known, so that we can know and grasp it. We might well ask Paul a question: If the mystery is disclosed, is it still a mystery? The readings for this fourth Sunday of Advent all touch about the mysterious and invite us to contemplate the impenetrable dimension of the coming of Christ.
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
This is a rather curious reading for the Sunday before the Nativity. At this juncture in the liturgical calendar, why should we concern ourselves with whether or not David ought to have built a temple? The point of this reading has to do with where and how God dwells among the people.
David's intentions are good. Why should he dwell in luxury while YHWH is relegated to a tent? He ought to build a house that would harbor the sacred ark of God. The ark was, of course, the representation of divine presence for Israel. There was no pretense that this puny wooden box contained God, and even less pretense that it might be an image of God. But as a representation of divine presence, the ark had a long history, dating back to Israel's sojourn in the wilderness. Since the ark of the covenant originated in the nomadic period of Israel's history, it was portable. The ark moved when the people moved. If you are going to be traveling, you need a mobile temple. However, now the people are settled in their new land, and David has succeeded in uniting the tribes into one nation. This was indeed the proper time, it seemed, to house the ark in a more permanent dwelling.
And Nathan agrees. Nathan was one of those prophetic figures in the royal court who advised the king on all sorts of matters. The presence of such a prophet on the royal cabinet suggested that the king's authority was limited. He was obligated to rule in harmony with God's wishes. So, Nathan's endorsement of David's plan to build a temple for the ark was essential. His backing gave divine sanction to the plan. All systems are go for the construction of such a house for God -- or so it seemed.
God has a way of upsetting our plans -- even plans that arise from sincere commitment and genuine dedication. The second movement in this story is God's word to Nathan that squelches all plans for construction. God's reaction to the building plans sounds a bit like the old-timer in the congregation: We've never done it that way; there's no reason to change now. God is perfectly content with remaining the homeless, wandering Lord Israel has known for years.
YHWH gives Nathan instructions to do more than quash David's plans. God has some plans of God's own. The Lord starts a description of the divine alternative by sketching what the divine presence has done for David (vv. 8-9). Next God promises that the people will be cared for. They will be given a place, undisturbed by evildoers, and rest will be conferred on them (vv. 10-11a). But here comes the capstone (v. 11b): "You want to build a house in which I will dwell? I'll make you a house!" David wants to create a house for God, and God wants to make David himself a dwelling place for the divine.
At this point the reading skips to verse 16, depriving us of the account of God's promise that David's offspring will build the divine dwelling (vv. 12-15). The intent of this truncated reading is to keep the focus on David and not turn it to Solomon. David will house the divine presence in the world and shall rule endlessly (v. 16). The Davidic covenant assures Israel that there will be a continuity of leadership, a single dynasty that will rule forever. That's an important promise to a people who have just survived a struggle for leadership between Saul, David, and some others. It's a promise that the royal throne will be preserved for one and only one family. To stretch the promise just a bit -- and admittedly in a rather cynical way -- it is as if God were to promise that only one political party would inherit the White House forevermore, and we would be perpetually spared the wearisome elections of a president every four years.
Now this whole story of David's being directed not to build a temple sounds suspiciously like an explanation of and defense for why David didn't build it and Solomon did. Be that as it may, more to the point for us is the idea of how God chooses to dwell in the world and among the people. The mystery of God's plan, it seems, has to do with the divine election of a leader and with perpetual faithfulness to that leader and his offspring. What an odd way for God to choose to rule the people. In the past, God had called forth charismatic leaders from among the people to secure them against their enemies (i.e., the judges). That seems to have worked well except for the fact that there was little continuity in leadership. Now one royal dynasty will provide that continuity.
However, the mysterious divine plan, you will note, addresses a real and practical need of the people at that time. God's dwelling in a perpetual dynasty solves one of the nation's most pressing political problems, namely, the transition of power. The mystery is understood, at least in part, by God's propensity to help the people out.
God chooses to be present in the world through a divinely-elected agent. That agent (the Davidic king) is an exclusive conduit between God and the people, a communicative link with the transcendent realm. God's absolute sovereignty is all that matters here. There need be no explanation, no rationale, and no apologies for this plan. Yet it entails an important promise: God's plan will be worked out in the world through this single agent and his descendants. You can bank on that!
Romans 16:25-27
Paul does not usually end his letters with this kind of acclamation of praise. As a matter of fact, these verses are missing in some of the major manuscripts of Romans, and scholars have speculated that this passage is the result of a later hand doctoring the ending of Romans. Such questions need not distract preachers from the task at hand, namely, to find a word for the contemporary congregation in the passage.
Romans 16 brings Paul's letter to the Christians in Rome to a conclusion. For the most part, the final chapter is very different from the rest of the epistle. This chapter is a postcard of greetings to certain people, tacked onto the letter. After greeting some thirty individuals, families, and groups, Paul makes one final appeal to the Romans, then sends the greetings of others to the church, and finally launches into a hymn of praise.
Whether it was written by Paul or another, these verses are reminiscent of Paul's propensity to get carried away, piling phrase upon phrase. The three verses comprise a single sentence, albeit a clumsy one. The language is liturgical and not necessarily rational and logical. The sentence begins with a kind of benediction, but one addressed to God, not to the community. "Who is able to strengthen you" triggers a series of three phrases, each beginning with "according to" (kata in the Greek). Verse 27 returns to the doxological structure begun in verse 25, giving praise to God.
The three "according-to" phrases are interesting. They each seem to suggest what governs or determines the way in which God strengthens the readers. So, the strengthening occurs in accord (or consistent) with (1) Paul's gospel, (2) the mystery that has been revealed in Christ, and (3) God's effort to bring about "obedience of faith." The language is too thick to reduce it to easy propositions, but maybe a generalization is possible. God strengthens the readers in ways that are in agreement with what we know of God through Christ.
Consequently, the three phrases are in fact a summary of Paul's understanding of the gospel as it has been articulated in Romans. The gospel roots in the proclamation of Jesus Christ. That proclamation is a disclosure of God's plan for creation and has been announced to all the nations. In another sense, the gospel is the command of God which seeks to bring humans to the obedience of faith. That expression, "the obedience of faith," suggests that believing and embracing the good news of God's action in Christ is being faithful to God, obeying God, and doing God's will.
The expression "the revelation of the mystery that was kept secret for long ages but is now disclosed" is fascinating. Paul uses the word "mystery" (mysterion) some 21 times including Romans 11:25 and several places in 1 Corinthians (e.g., 2:1). For Paul the word seems to express the impenetrable and unfathomable design of God's plan for creation. Why has God chosen to draw humans into relationship through Christ's death and resurrection (1 Corinthians 2:1)? Why has God seemingly prevented the Jewish people from embracing the Christian Gospel (Romans 11:25)? We humans shall probably never fully understand.
Yet the mystery has been revealed, Paul contends. God's work throughout history to reestablish a new relationship with humans, after the first one was broken by our sin, has been inscrutable. But now in Christ it is clear, unveiled, and published for all to hear. This mystery of God's plan is revealed, but that does not mean that it is fully understood. The mystery cannot now be reduced to a simple matter of human wisdom. It is still mystery. Maybe this whole idea is similar to the way many of us understand physics -- many here meaning those of us who are not professional students of physics. We know how to use electricity, how to embrace it and allow it to better our lives. However, most of us don't really understand how electricity works. It remains a mystery to us, but one that has been revealed so that we can avail ourselves of it.
At the heart of Paul's understanding of the mystery revealed is how God chose to dwell among us humans in Christ. That mystery links up with the mystery of God's electing David and his descendants as the agency of divine presence. Even more pertinent, it relates to the mystery of the Nativity itself.
Luke 1:26-38
Now the mystery of God's presence in the world stretches our minds to a breaking point. God chooses to dwell in the world through a human being, born an infant to a virginal young woman.
The third evangelist, whom we call Luke, begins the Gospel with a brief explanation of the reasons for the writing and then, without further ado, propels readers into the story of Jesus' birth. The first episode of that birth narrative for this evangelist recounts Elizabeth's conception of John the Baptist (1:5-25). Our passage comes close on the heels of that story. The narrative in today's Gospel lesson is the announcement to Mary of her conception of Jesus. Verses 26-27 set the stage for the encounter of Gabriel and Mary. From that point on the story is constructed of Gabriel's words to Mary followed by Mary's responses. Three times the angel speaks, and each time Mary responds. Gabriel's first words are a simple greeting that is packed with commendations of Mary -- "favored one ... the Lord is with you." Mary is dumbfounded by the greeting (vv. 28-29). Gabriel then makes the longest speech in the reading, first quieting Mary's fear, and then explaining what will happen to her by virtue of the fact that God has favored her. Mary is still further bewildered by this prediction, especially given the fact that she is yet single (vv. 30-34). The final angelic speech explains that this is no normal conception but one initiated by the Holy Spirit to produce the holy Son of God. The angelic voice informs Mary of Elizabeth's conception and speaks his last words: "For nothing will be impossible with God." Now Mary's utter amazement is transformed into obedience. She simply submits to a plan she senses is much bigger than she. She cannot pretend to understand but agrees to take her role in the whole mysterious design, and Gabriel exits stage left (vv. 35-38).
This story is powerful in part as a result of its simplicity. Note how little we learn about Mary. The main point is that God has showered her with divine favor. It has been left to popular Christian imagination to fill in all the blanks in the story. The main character of the story is, of course, not Mary; nor is it Gabriel. The main actor is not even on stage. Here God is letting Mary in on the divine plan and enlisting her participation in that plan. We would like to imagine how it is that Mary merited God's special favor. We would like to imagine more about her situation and her previous life. But those are not matters of importance. God's stratagem has begun; the program is inaugurated. God elected David and his descendants as agents of the divine presence, and now God has chosen this young, engaged woman as the means of the divine agenda. Since Joseph is of the house of David, God remains faithful to the promise made to David while, at the same time, utterly transforming the mode of the divine presence in the world.
The mystery is at least twofold. First, like Mary, we are utterly astonished that God would choose to become present in the world through a human being. Not an agent or servant of the divine will, but a human who in himself would be God's offspring. Yet God does not choose to put this holy child on the next cloud bound for earth and land him in the midst of the Jewish people. Here's the second dimension of the mystery. This holy one is conceived in a woman's womb. There the fetus grows and matures until, after the usual nine months, the holy one comes forth as any human infant does. Sometimes we may allow Jesus' virginal conception to cloud the fact that the conception produces the natural results expected in any pregnancy.
What is God doing here? Why the choice to become present in the world as a human, even as an infant human? The mystery is disclosed, but we still marvel at it and don't understand it. Sometimes in our relationships with others we experience an analogy to this mystery. We may know how a close friend is going to act, the general nature of her or his behavior, and even its predictability (e.g., she is always going to think of others first and herself second). However, we may not at all understand why it is that he or she behaves this way. The personality behind the actions remains shrouded in mystery.
Luke lets us in on how God was about to act, so we know that now God has chosen to come into the world in the form of a human. Luke lets us in on the secret of who this Jesus is. However, we still stand before a mystery -- revealed yet still mysterious. We stand and marvel, even as we thank God for the gift of the divine presence as one of us.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
There are three decisive times in the Old Testament when God breaks into Israel's history with a new word that motivates and guides all of Israel's subsequent history -- at the times of the promise to Abraham, of the promise to David, and when he revealed his word to the prophets. Thus, this passage, detailing the promise to David, recounts a momentous occurrence in Israel's history, and it becomes the primary factor in the biblical history that follows in both Old and New Testaments.
The Lord promises to David, in this text, that there will never be lacking a davidic heir to sit upon the throne. "Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever" (v. 16). There will always be a davidic king.
That word forms the basis of most of the messianic expectations in the Old Testament, for the occupant of the davidic throne is the mashiach, the anointed one, from which we get our word "Messiah." When we say "Messiah" we are referring to God's anointed, davidic king.
Enclosed in this promise, however, is also a promise to the covenant people -- that as long as there is a davidic heir upon the throne, the people of Israel will dwell secure, in the favor of God (vv. 10-11). If the king is righteous, doing justice and mercy as a proper king should do (cf. Jeremiah 23:5-6), he will be maintained upon his throne by God, and Israel will be granted God's favor also. But if the king is unrighteous and merciless, both he and the people will be punished by God. The davidic king embodies in his person the "corporate personality" of his people. What the king does, the people do, in the eyes of God.
The result is that after the time of David, who reigned from 1000 to 961 B.C., Israel always looked for a good and righteous king who would cause them to be counted righteous in the eyes of the Lord. "Are you he who is to come, or shall we look for another?" That was Israel's question, voiced also by John the Baptist in the New Testament (Matthew 11:3).
The davidic kingship has a very checkered history in Old Testament times, however. David himself was no saint, committing adultery and murder in his affair with Bathsheba (2 Samuel 11-12), and failing utterly to discipline his wayward sons (2 Samuel 13--1 Kings 2). He has some piety, as shown in our text by his desire to make a temple for the Lord as grand as the cedar house in which David himself lives (2 Samuel 7:2). Up to the time of Solomon, the ark of the covenant that represents the base of the throne of God was always housed in the movable tabernacle. But David's piety is mixed with self-serving, because he wishes to center religious worship in Jerusalem, where political power also lodges, thus consolidating his temporal and spiritual power in one place. His wish to build God a temple is not as pure as it at first appears.
After David, Solomon is a despot, as was foretold by Samuel (1 Samuel 8:10-18). And after him, the kingdom is split into northern Israel and southern Judah. Only in the reigns of Hezekiah of Judah in 727-698 and of Josiah of Judah in 626-609 B.C. do we find any covenant faithfulness on the part of the davidic king, but Josiah is tragically killed in battle with the Egyptians, and Hezekiah finally becomes a faithful vassal of the pagan Assyrian Empire. The last occupant of the davidic throne, Jehoiakin, ends up in Babylonian exile with his faithless people (2 Kings 24:12), and after the return from exile following 538 B.C., Zerubbabel, the grandson of Jehoichin and rebuilder of the ruined temple, is named as governor over Judean territory by the ruling Persians (Haggai 1:1). But Zerubbabel is not the Messiah, despite some extravagant hopes for him, and in the prophecies of Zechariah, an empty crown hangs in the rebuilt post-exilic temple, awaiting the coming of the one who has the right to wear it (Zechariah 6:14).
"Your throne shall be established forever." That was God's promise to David in the tenth century B.C. But did God keep his promise? Jesus himself warned that "many will come in my name, saying, 'I am he!' and they will lead many astray" (Mark 13:6) -- a phenomenon not unknown in our time. So was the davidic line that was to produce God's Messiah cut off forever because of the faithlessness of the covenant people? Well, God keeps his promises always, and you all know the answer. It comes to us from that glad announcement of the angels in the Gospel according to Luke, which we shall read for our New Testament lesson on Christmas Eve. "To you is born this day in the city of David -- Bethlehem -- a Savior, who is Christ the Lord" (Luke 2:11). Christ, Xristos, "anointed," the Messiah. Every time we say "Jesus Christ," we confess that Jesus, whose birth we celebrate, was and is to this day God's anointed davidic king, God's long-expected Messiah.
Jesus Christ is now the one pure righteous and merciful davidic heir, whose throne is established forever, in fulfillment of the Word of God to David. God has brought his history with his people Israel to its climax. And because you and I have been engrafted into that history as the Gentile members of God's covenant people -- as the wild branches engrafted into the root of Israel, Paul would say (Romans 11:17-24) -- we are made participants in that history of God with his people. Jesus Christ now rules over all, as the long-awaited davidic Messiah.
And surely, it is Jesus Christ who makes us acceptable and favored in God's eyes. He is pure righteousness, good Christians, pure mercy, pure love. And because he takes all of our weaknesses and self-servings, our pride and unfaithfulness upon himself on the cross and overcomes them when he is raised on the third day, you and I are counted righteous in the eyes of our God and are the recipients of God's manifold blessings. Our sin is forgiven, our eternal death gone forever, our life with our Lord assured to everlasting. Yes, indeed, that is very good news that we will hear the angels announce to all people on the first Christmas Eve!
On the other hand, while we are in the process of penetrating many of the mysteries of life that have long puzzled us, there seems also to be a longing for the restoration of mystery. The popularity of angels, for instance, suggests that people want to believe that there is a mysterious dimension to human existence. So there is much talk about being "touched by an angel." You can even buy a t-shirt with the title of the television show of the same name inscribed on it. There is a yearning, if you will, for something we do not know and perhaps cannot know. Maybe deep inside of us resides a need to believe there is some reality beyond our own that remains veiled from the vision of our minds.
On this last Sunday of Advent, standing on the threshold of the celebration of the Nativity, it is well for us to consider the mystery of which Paul speaks. Indeed, for the Christian, the advent among us of the Son of God, the very Word of God, comprises the central mystery of our faith. How is it that the Ultimate Reality could become present among humans in the form of a tiny baby born of a virgin? We don't try to explain such a mystery; we only celebrate it. Yet Paul claims that the mystery has been revealed, made known, so that we can know and grasp it. We might well ask Paul a question: If the mystery is disclosed, is it still a mystery? The readings for this fourth Sunday of Advent all touch about the mysterious and invite us to contemplate the impenetrable dimension of the coming of Christ.
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
This is a rather curious reading for the Sunday before the Nativity. At this juncture in the liturgical calendar, why should we concern ourselves with whether or not David ought to have built a temple? The point of this reading has to do with where and how God dwells among the people.
David's intentions are good. Why should he dwell in luxury while YHWH is relegated to a tent? He ought to build a house that would harbor the sacred ark of God. The ark was, of course, the representation of divine presence for Israel. There was no pretense that this puny wooden box contained God, and even less pretense that it might be an image of God. But as a representation of divine presence, the ark had a long history, dating back to Israel's sojourn in the wilderness. Since the ark of the covenant originated in the nomadic period of Israel's history, it was portable. The ark moved when the people moved. If you are going to be traveling, you need a mobile temple. However, now the people are settled in their new land, and David has succeeded in uniting the tribes into one nation. This was indeed the proper time, it seemed, to house the ark in a more permanent dwelling.
And Nathan agrees. Nathan was one of those prophetic figures in the royal court who advised the king on all sorts of matters. The presence of such a prophet on the royal cabinet suggested that the king's authority was limited. He was obligated to rule in harmony with God's wishes. So, Nathan's endorsement of David's plan to build a temple for the ark was essential. His backing gave divine sanction to the plan. All systems are go for the construction of such a house for God -- or so it seemed.
God has a way of upsetting our plans -- even plans that arise from sincere commitment and genuine dedication. The second movement in this story is God's word to Nathan that squelches all plans for construction. God's reaction to the building plans sounds a bit like the old-timer in the congregation: We've never done it that way; there's no reason to change now. God is perfectly content with remaining the homeless, wandering Lord Israel has known for years.
YHWH gives Nathan instructions to do more than quash David's plans. God has some plans of God's own. The Lord starts a description of the divine alternative by sketching what the divine presence has done for David (vv. 8-9). Next God promises that the people will be cared for. They will be given a place, undisturbed by evildoers, and rest will be conferred on them (vv. 10-11a). But here comes the capstone (v. 11b): "You want to build a house in which I will dwell? I'll make you a house!" David wants to create a house for God, and God wants to make David himself a dwelling place for the divine.
At this point the reading skips to verse 16, depriving us of the account of God's promise that David's offspring will build the divine dwelling (vv. 12-15). The intent of this truncated reading is to keep the focus on David and not turn it to Solomon. David will house the divine presence in the world and shall rule endlessly (v. 16). The Davidic covenant assures Israel that there will be a continuity of leadership, a single dynasty that will rule forever. That's an important promise to a people who have just survived a struggle for leadership between Saul, David, and some others. It's a promise that the royal throne will be preserved for one and only one family. To stretch the promise just a bit -- and admittedly in a rather cynical way -- it is as if God were to promise that only one political party would inherit the White House forevermore, and we would be perpetually spared the wearisome elections of a president every four years.
Now this whole story of David's being directed not to build a temple sounds suspiciously like an explanation of and defense for why David didn't build it and Solomon did. Be that as it may, more to the point for us is the idea of how God chooses to dwell in the world and among the people. The mystery of God's plan, it seems, has to do with the divine election of a leader and with perpetual faithfulness to that leader and his offspring. What an odd way for God to choose to rule the people. In the past, God had called forth charismatic leaders from among the people to secure them against their enemies (i.e., the judges). That seems to have worked well except for the fact that there was little continuity in leadership. Now one royal dynasty will provide that continuity.
However, the mysterious divine plan, you will note, addresses a real and practical need of the people at that time. God's dwelling in a perpetual dynasty solves one of the nation's most pressing political problems, namely, the transition of power. The mystery is understood, at least in part, by God's propensity to help the people out.
God chooses to be present in the world through a divinely-elected agent. That agent (the Davidic king) is an exclusive conduit between God and the people, a communicative link with the transcendent realm. God's absolute sovereignty is all that matters here. There need be no explanation, no rationale, and no apologies for this plan. Yet it entails an important promise: God's plan will be worked out in the world through this single agent and his descendants. You can bank on that!
Romans 16:25-27
Paul does not usually end his letters with this kind of acclamation of praise. As a matter of fact, these verses are missing in some of the major manuscripts of Romans, and scholars have speculated that this passage is the result of a later hand doctoring the ending of Romans. Such questions need not distract preachers from the task at hand, namely, to find a word for the contemporary congregation in the passage.
Romans 16 brings Paul's letter to the Christians in Rome to a conclusion. For the most part, the final chapter is very different from the rest of the epistle. This chapter is a postcard of greetings to certain people, tacked onto the letter. After greeting some thirty individuals, families, and groups, Paul makes one final appeal to the Romans, then sends the greetings of others to the church, and finally launches into a hymn of praise.
Whether it was written by Paul or another, these verses are reminiscent of Paul's propensity to get carried away, piling phrase upon phrase. The three verses comprise a single sentence, albeit a clumsy one. The language is liturgical and not necessarily rational and logical. The sentence begins with a kind of benediction, but one addressed to God, not to the community. "Who is able to strengthen you" triggers a series of three phrases, each beginning with "according to" (kata in the Greek). Verse 27 returns to the doxological structure begun in verse 25, giving praise to God.
The three "according-to" phrases are interesting. They each seem to suggest what governs or determines the way in which God strengthens the readers. So, the strengthening occurs in accord (or consistent) with (1) Paul's gospel, (2) the mystery that has been revealed in Christ, and (3) God's effort to bring about "obedience of faith." The language is too thick to reduce it to easy propositions, but maybe a generalization is possible. God strengthens the readers in ways that are in agreement with what we know of God through Christ.
Consequently, the three phrases are in fact a summary of Paul's understanding of the gospel as it has been articulated in Romans. The gospel roots in the proclamation of Jesus Christ. That proclamation is a disclosure of God's plan for creation and has been announced to all the nations. In another sense, the gospel is the command of God which seeks to bring humans to the obedience of faith. That expression, "the obedience of faith," suggests that believing and embracing the good news of God's action in Christ is being faithful to God, obeying God, and doing God's will.
The expression "the revelation of the mystery that was kept secret for long ages but is now disclosed" is fascinating. Paul uses the word "mystery" (mysterion) some 21 times including Romans 11:25 and several places in 1 Corinthians (e.g., 2:1). For Paul the word seems to express the impenetrable and unfathomable design of God's plan for creation. Why has God chosen to draw humans into relationship through Christ's death and resurrection (1 Corinthians 2:1)? Why has God seemingly prevented the Jewish people from embracing the Christian Gospel (Romans 11:25)? We humans shall probably never fully understand.
Yet the mystery has been revealed, Paul contends. God's work throughout history to reestablish a new relationship with humans, after the first one was broken by our sin, has been inscrutable. But now in Christ it is clear, unveiled, and published for all to hear. This mystery of God's plan is revealed, but that does not mean that it is fully understood. The mystery cannot now be reduced to a simple matter of human wisdom. It is still mystery. Maybe this whole idea is similar to the way many of us understand physics -- many here meaning those of us who are not professional students of physics. We know how to use electricity, how to embrace it and allow it to better our lives. However, most of us don't really understand how electricity works. It remains a mystery to us, but one that has been revealed so that we can avail ourselves of it.
At the heart of Paul's understanding of the mystery revealed is how God chose to dwell among us humans in Christ. That mystery links up with the mystery of God's electing David and his descendants as the agency of divine presence. Even more pertinent, it relates to the mystery of the Nativity itself.
Luke 1:26-38
Now the mystery of God's presence in the world stretches our minds to a breaking point. God chooses to dwell in the world through a human being, born an infant to a virginal young woman.
The third evangelist, whom we call Luke, begins the Gospel with a brief explanation of the reasons for the writing and then, without further ado, propels readers into the story of Jesus' birth. The first episode of that birth narrative for this evangelist recounts Elizabeth's conception of John the Baptist (1:5-25). Our passage comes close on the heels of that story. The narrative in today's Gospel lesson is the announcement to Mary of her conception of Jesus. Verses 26-27 set the stage for the encounter of Gabriel and Mary. From that point on the story is constructed of Gabriel's words to Mary followed by Mary's responses. Three times the angel speaks, and each time Mary responds. Gabriel's first words are a simple greeting that is packed with commendations of Mary -- "favored one ... the Lord is with you." Mary is dumbfounded by the greeting (vv. 28-29). Gabriel then makes the longest speech in the reading, first quieting Mary's fear, and then explaining what will happen to her by virtue of the fact that God has favored her. Mary is still further bewildered by this prediction, especially given the fact that she is yet single (vv. 30-34). The final angelic speech explains that this is no normal conception but one initiated by the Holy Spirit to produce the holy Son of God. The angelic voice informs Mary of Elizabeth's conception and speaks his last words: "For nothing will be impossible with God." Now Mary's utter amazement is transformed into obedience. She simply submits to a plan she senses is much bigger than she. She cannot pretend to understand but agrees to take her role in the whole mysterious design, and Gabriel exits stage left (vv. 35-38).
This story is powerful in part as a result of its simplicity. Note how little we learn about Mary. The main point is that God has showered her with divine favor. It has been left to popular Christian imagination to fill in all the blanks in the story. The main character of the story is, of course, not Mary; nor is it Gabriel. The main actor is not even on stage. Here God is letting Mary in on the divine plan and enlisting her participation in that plan. We would like to imagine how it is that Mary merited God's special favor. We would like to imagine more about her situation and her previous life. But those are not matters of importance. God's stratagem has begun; the program is inaugurated. God elected David and his descendants as agents of the divine presence, and now God has chosen this young, engaged woman as the means of the divine agenda. Since Joseph is of the house of David, God remains faithful to the promise made to David while, at the same time, utterly transforming the mode of the divine presence in the world.
The mystery is at least twofold. First, like Mary, we are utterly astonished that God would choose to become present in the world through a human being. Not an agent or servant of the divine will, but a human who in himself would be God's offspring. Yet God does not choose to put this holy child on the next cloud bound for earth and land him in the midst of the Jewish people. Here's the second dimension of the mystery. This holy one is conceived in a woman's womb. There the fetus grows and matures until, after the usual nine months, the holy one comes forth as any human infant does. Sometimes we may allow Jesus' virginal conception to cloud the fact that the conception produces the natural results expected in any pregnancy.
What is God doing here? Why the choice to become present in the world as a human, even as an infant human? The mystery is disclosed, but we still marvel at it and don't understand it. Sometimes in our relationships with others we experience an analogy to this mystery. We may know how a close friend is going to act, the general nature of her or his behavior, and even its predictability (e.g., she is always going to think of others first and herself second). However, we may not at all understand why it is that he or she behaves this way. The personality behind the actions remains shrouded in mystery.
Luke lets us in on how God was about to act, so we know that now God has chosen to come into the world in the form of a human. Luke lets us in on the secret of who this Jesus is. However, we still stand before a mystery -- revealed yet still mysterious. We stand and marvel, even as we thank God for the gift of the divine presence as one of us.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
There are three decisive times in the Old Testament when God breaks into Israel's history with a new word that motivates and guides all of Israel's subsequent history -- at the times of the promise to Abraham, of the promise to David, and when he revealed his word to the prophets. Thus, this passage, detailing the promise to David, recounts a momentous occurrence in Israel's history, and it becomes the primary factor in the biblical history that follows in both Old and New Testaments.
The Lord promises to David, in this text, that there will never be lacking a davidic heir to sit upon the throne. "Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever" (v. 16). There will always be a davidic king.
That word forms the basis of most of the messianic expectations in the Old Testament, for the occupant of the davidic throne is the mashiach, the anointed one, from which we get our word "Messiah." When we say "Messiah" we are referring to God's anointed, davidic king.
Enclosed in this promise, however, is also a promise to the covenant people -- that as long as there is a davidic heir upon the throne, the people of Israel will dwell secure, in the favor of God (vv. 10-11). If the king is righteous, doing justice and mercy as a proper king should do (cf. Jeremiah 23:5-6), he will be maintained upon his throne by God, and Israel will be granted God's favor also. But if the king is unrighteous and merciless, both he and the people will be punished by God. The davidic king embodies in his person the "corporate personality" of his people. What the king does, the people do, in the eyes of God.
The result is that after the time of David, who reigned from 1000 to 961 B.C., Israel always looked for a good and righteous king who would cause them to be counted righteous in the eyes of the Lord. "Are you he who is to come, or shall we look for another?" That was Israel's question, voiced also by John the Baptist in the New Testament (Matthew 11:3).
The davidic kingship has a very checkered history in Old Testament times, however. David himself was no saint, committing adultery and murder in his affair with Bathsheba (2 Samuel 11-12), and failing utterly to discipline his wayward sons (2 Samuel 13--1 Kings 2). He has some piety, as shown in our text by his desire to make a temple for the Lord as grand as the cedar house in which David himself lives (2 Samuel 7:2). Up to the time of Solomon, the ark of the covenant that represents the base of the throne of God was always housed in the movable tabernacle. But David's piety is mixed with self-serving, because he wishes to center religious worship in Jerusalem, where political power also lodges, thus consolidating his temporal and spiritual power in one place. His wish to build God a temple is not as pure as it at first appears.
After David, Solomon is a despot, as was foretold by Samuel (1 Samuel 8:10-18). And after him, the kingdom is split into northern Israel and southern Judah. Only in the reigns of Hezekiah of Judah in 727-698 and of Josiah of Judah in 626-609 B.C. do we find any covenant faithfulness on the part of the davidic king, but Josiah is tragically killed in battle with the Egyptians, and Hezekiah finally becomes a faithful vassal of the pagan Assyrian Empire. The last occupant of the davidic throne, Jehoiakin, ends up in Babylonian exile with his faithless people (2 Kings 24:12), and after the return from exile following 538 B.C., Zerubbabel, the grandson of Jehoichin and rebuilder of the ruined temple, is named as governor over Judean territory by the ruling Persians (Haggai 1:1). But Zerubbabel is not the Messiah, despite some extravagant hopes for him, and in the prophecies of Zechariah, an empty crown hangs in the rebuilt post-exilic temple, awaiting the coming of the one who has the right to wear it (Zechariah 6:14).
"Your throne shall be established forever." That was God's promise to David in the tenth century B.C. But did God keep his promise? Jesus himself warned that "many will come in my name, saying, 'I am he!' and they will lead many astray" (Mark 13:6) -- a phenomenon not unknown in our time. So was the davidic line that was to produce God's Messiah cut off forever because of the faithlessness of the covenant people? Well, God keeps his promises always, and you all know the answer. It comes to us from that glad announcement of the angels in the Gospel according to Luke, which we shall read for our New Testament lesson on Christmas Eve. "To you is born this day in the city of David -- Bethlehem -- a Savior, who is Christ the Lord" (Luke 2:11). Christ, Xristos, "anointed," the Messiah. Every time we say "Jesus Christ," we confess that Jesus, whose birth we celebrate, was and is to this day God's anointed davidic king, God's long-expected Messiah.
Jesus Christ is now the one pure righteous and merciful davidic heir, whose throne is established forever, in fulfillment of the Word of God to David. God has brought his history with his people Israel to its climax. And because you and I have been engrafted into that history as the Gentile members of God's covenant people -- as the wild branches engrafted into the root of Israel, Paul would say (Romans 11:17-24) -- we are made participants in that history of God with his people. Jesus Christ now rules over all, as the long-awaited davidic Messiah.
And surely, it is Jesus Christ who makes us acceptable and favored in God's eyes. He is pure righteousness, good Christians, pure mercy, pure love. And because he takes all of our weaknesses and self-servings, our pride and unfaithfulness upon himself on the cross and overcomes them when he is raised on the third day, you and I are counted righteous in the eyes of our God and are the recipients of God's manifold blessings. Our sin is forgiven, our eternal death gone forever, our life with our Lord assured to everlasting. Yes, indeed, that is very good news that we will hear the angels announce to all people on the first Christmas Eve!
