Fourth Sunday of Advent
Preaching
Lectionary Preaching Workbook
Series VIII, Cycle B
Revised Common
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
Romans 16:25-27
Luke 1:26-38
Roman Catholic
2 Samuel 7:1-5, 8-12, 14, 16
Romans 16:25-27
Luke 1:26-38
Episcopal
2 Samuel 7:4, 8-16
Romans 16:25-27
Luke 1:26-38
Theme For The Day
We can never fully prepare for miracles of God's grace, but can only resolve to be open to them when they come.
Old Testament Lesson
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
God Promises To Build David A House
Flush with victory and filled with pride in his accomplishments, King David grandiloquently declares that he will build the Lord a magnificent house: a temple. Yet God declines the king's offer. "I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt to this day," says the Lord, "but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle" (v. 6). Instead, God promises to build David a house (v. 11). What the Lord has in mind is not a physical structure, but rather a spiritual dynasty: "Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever" (v. 16). (For a fuller description of this passage, see Proper 11, on page 183.)
New Testament Lesson
Romans 16:25-27
Mysteries Revealed
Paul ends the Letter to the Romans with a blessing, a closing doxology. What has undoubtedly attracted the attention of the lectionary editors (leading them to choose these two verses for this week's Epistle Lesson) is the line about "the proclamation of Jesus Christ, according to the revelation of the mystery that was kept secret for long ages but is now disclosed." This passage looks back upon the prophecies of the Messiah's coming and acknowledges that they have been but partially understood -- until now, when Christ is revealed as their fulfillment.
The Gospel
Luke 1:26-38
Here Am I, Servant
It's one of the most familiar of all biblical stories, one that has been celebrated in countless well-loved works of art: the angel Gabriel's announcement to Mary that she is to bear a child who will be Savior of the world. Luke's account also sets up the story that immediately follows: as the angel informs Mary that her aged kinswoman Elizabeth is likewise expecting a child. Mary responds in obedient humility, using words reminiscent of the great prophets' response to their divine calling: "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word" (v. 38).
Alternate Gospel Lesson
Luke 1:47-55
The Magnificat
Again, the Magnificat is an alternate psalm for today, and could be used as an alternate Gospel Lesson (see last week's resource).
Preaching Possibilities
As the candles on the Advent wreath burn lower and the days grow ever shorter, the pews fill with worshipers both familiar and unfamiliar to the preacher. Some of them understand that this is still Advent, and that Christmas (although near) has not arrived yet. Others who have not been present for the previous three weeks, have been listening incessantly to Christmas carols on the car radio and in the shopping mall, and would like nothing better than to sing carols and hear a nativity story. Still others will soon be traveling, to celebrate the holiday with family or friends in distant places, and would love to have something of a Christmas experience here in their regular place of worship.
With so many conflicting expectations, what's a preacher to do?
A sermon focusing on the Gospel Lesson is an appropriate solution. The annunciation is, technically, still an Advent story -- although years of lessons-and-carols services have convinced many people it's the first part of the Christmas story. It is also an opportunity, particularly for Protestants, to celebrate the contribution of Mary: a giant of faith who has been neglected by our tradition for far too long.
For Mary, it begins as an ordinary day in an ordinary life. She rises early to do her household chores. Nothing about the day seems unusual. The sun is shining at its predictable angle, neighbors are following their customary routine. Outside, the street is dusty, the distant market noises raucous. Yet before this day is out, the teenager, Mary, will be visited by an angel. The angel will tell her she will soon be with child, and that the infant who will grow inside her is no ordinary baby, but God's own son. It is, for her, a day of wonder.
The church calls this event the annunciation -- a word which simply means, "announcement." Over the centuries, artists have tried to picture the scene. Take a tour of Renaissance sites in Italy, and you will see churches and museums filled with dozens upon dozens of annunciation paintings. After a while, you no longer need to read the placards below the heavy gilt frames. The scene is always the same: there's Mary, kneeling devoutly, and beside her is a rather feminine-looking man in a golden robe, with flowing locks and his arm upraised in blessing.
The late-Medieval and Renaissance artists always seem to know what goes into the scene -- although the real annunciation was private. Mary was the only witness. What really happened? Did she see an angel with her own eyes, or with the secret eye of her inmost heart? Did Mary hear a beautiful voice and suddenly turn around? Or did she hear someone speaking quietly, deep within her soul?
Mary's response to all this is, "How can this be, since I am a virgin?" It's a little like Mary asking Gabriel -- after he has uttered that intricate, awe-inspiring prophecy about "Son of the Most High," and "throne of David," and "house of Jacob forever" -- "Would you repeat some of that for me?"
"Certainly, which part?"
"The part after, 'You will conceive in your womb and bear a son....' "
There's something homely, and very human, about this story. Mary's certainly not ready to receive this wondrous news -- but eventually it does sink in. The angel has just informed Mary that, after hundreds of years of waiting, after untold millions of prayers chanted in the temple, the Messiah is about to come to her people. This child whom she will bear will reclaim the throne of David -- from which no legitimate Jewish king has ruled for centuries. More than that, all nations will pay him homage, and his kingdom will never end.
"But ... how can this be, since I am still a virgin?" Mary wonders at the angel's prophecy, all right -- but hers, at least for the moment, is still a small wonder. Mary's not ready for Christmas. Are we?
Prayer For The Day
Have your own way, Lord, have your own way;
You are the potter, I am the clay.
Mold me and make me, after your will,
While I am waiting, yielded and still.
(Hymn text, "Have Thine Own Way," adapted)
To Illustrate
The world will never starve for wonders, but only for want of wonder.
-- G. K. Chesterton
***
We die on the day when our lives cease to be illumined by the steady radiance, renewed daily, of a wonder, the force of which is beyond reason.
-- Dag Hammarskjold
***
Mary, mother of our Lord, I wish I could be as pure a disciple as you were even from the beginning!
For you were invited to join a sisterhood -- with Tamar and Bathsheba -- of sorrow and human suffering, since the child of your womb would draw the hatreds and the outrages of a scoundrel world.
And you said, "Yes" ...
For it was an angel that spoke to you, a sky-strider, an inhabitant of holy heaven whose face caught fire from standing near to God, whose glory darkened all the common world in which you lived.
Yet you did not hesitate in fear or horror. You said, "Yes."
For history was pouring into your womb, the whole history of the Israel backward through David even unto Abraham; yet you were but a single person, one lone woman. How could a vessel of simple human limitation hold twenty centuries of national endeavor -- triumph, failure, sin, atonement, trouble, prayer, and promise -- and not burst open? But you would burst, Mary. You would spew the son of David into Judah again, and he would keep every past promise of God.
And you said, "Yes."
For heaven itself was swelling within you, and you were the door. Not in terrible glory would he come, this Son of the Most High God. Not in the primal blinding light, nor as the shout by which God uttered the universe, nor yet with the trumpet that shall conclude it, but through your human womb, as an infant bawling and hungry. By your labor, Mary, by the fierce contractions of your uterus, eternity would enter time. The angel said, Will you be the door of the Lord into this place?...
You, the first of all the disciples of Jesus, said, "Yes."
-- Walter Wangerin, Preparing For Jesus (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 1999), pp. 68-69
***
A woman went to the doctor's office. She was seen by one of the new doctors, but after about four minutes in the examination room, she burst out, screaming as she ran down the hall. An older doctor stopped and asked her what the problem was, and she explained. He had her sit down and relax in another room.
The older doctor marched back to the first and demanded, "What's the matter with you? Mrs. Terry is 63 years old, she has four grown children and seven grandchildren, and you told her she was pregnant?"
The new doctor smiled smugly as he continued to write on his clipboard. "Cured her hiccups though, didn't it?"
-- Ralph Milton
***
Jesus observed, "Without me you can do nothing." Yet we act, for the most part, as though without us God can do nothing. We think we have to make Christmas come, which is to say we think we have to bring about the redemption of the universe on our own. When all God needs is a willing womb, a place of safety, nourishment, and love. "Oh, but nothing will get done," you say. "If I don't do it, Christmas won't happen." And we crowd out Christ with our fretful fears.
God asks us to give away everything of ourselves. The gift of greatest efficacy and power that we can offer God and creation is not our skills, gifts, abilities, and possessions. Mary offered only space, love, belief.
Try it. Leave behind your briefcase and notes. Leave behind your honed skills and knowledge. Leave the Christmas decorations up in the attic. Go to someone in need and say, "Here, all I have is Christ." And find out that that is enough....
The intensity and strain that many of us bring to Christmas must suggest to some onlookers that, on the whole, Christians do not seem to have gotten the point of it. Probably few of us have the faith or the nerve to tamper with hallowed Christmas traditions on a large scale or with our other holiday celebrations. But a small experiment might prove interesting. What if, instead of doing something, we were to be something special? Be a womb. Be a dwelling for God. Be surprised.
-- Loretta Ross-Gotta, "Ready For Christmas?" in Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas (Farmington, Pennsylvania: Plough Publishing House, 2001)
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
Romans 16:25-27
Luke 1:26-38
Roman Catholic
2 Samuel 7:1-5, 8-12, 14, 16
Romans 16:25-27
Luke 1:26-38
Episcopal
2 Samuel 7:4, 8-16
Romans 16:25-27
Luke 1:26-38
Theme For The Day
We can never fully prepare for miracles of God's grace, but can only resolve to be open to them when they come.
Old Testament Lesson
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
God Promises To Build David A House
Flush with victory and filled with pride in his accomplishments, King David grandiloquently declares that he will build the Lord a magnificent house: a temple. Yet God declines the king's offer. "I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt to this day," says the Lord, "but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle" (v. 6). Instead, God promises to build David a house (v. 11). What the Lord has in mind is not a physical structure, but rather a spiritual dynasty: "Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever" (v. 16). (For a fuller description of this passage, see Proper 11, on page 183.)
New Testament Lesson
Romans 16:25-27
Mysteries Revealed
Paul ends the Letter to the Romans with a blessing, a closing doxology. What has undoubtedly attracted the attention of the lectionary editors (leading them to choose these two verses for this week's Epistle Lesson) is the line about "the proclamation of Jesus Christ, according to the revelation of the mystery that was kept secret for long ages but is now disclosed." This passage looks back upon the prophecies of the Messiah's coming and acknowledges that they have been but partially understood -- until now, when Christ is revealed as their fulfillment.
The Gospel
Luke 1:26-38
Here Am I, Servant
It's one of the most familiar of all biblical stories, one that has been celebrated in countless well-loved works of art: the angel Gabriel's announcement to Mary that she is to bear a child who will be Savior of the world. Luke's account also sets up the story that immediately follows: as the angel informs Mary that her aged kinswoman Elizabeth is likewise expecting a child. Mary responds in obedient humility, using words reminiscent of the great prophets' response to their divine calling: "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word" (v. 38).
Alternate Gospel Lesson
Luke 1:47-55
The Magnificat
Again, the Magnificat is an alternate psalm for today, and could be used as an alternate Gospel Lesson (see last week's resource).
Preaching Possibilities
As the candles on the Advent wreath burn lower and the days grow ever shorter, the pews fill with worshipers both familiar and unfamiliar to the preacher. Some of them understand that this is still Advent, and that Christmas (although near) has not arrived yet. Others who have not been present for the previous three weeks, have been listening incessantly to Christmas carols on the car radio and in the shopping mall, and would like nothing better than to sing carols and hear a nativity story. Still others will soon be traveling, to celebrate the holiday with family or friends in distant places, and would love to have something of a Christmas experience here in their regular place of worship.
With so many conflicting expectations, what's a preacher to do?
A sermon focusing on the Gospel Lesson is an appropriate solution. The annunciation is, technically, still an Advent story -- although years of lessons-and-carols services have convinced many people it's the first part of the Christmas story. It is also an opportunity, particularly for Protestants, to celebrate the contribution of Mary: a giant of faith who has been neglected by our tradition for far too long.
For Mary, it begins as an ordinary day in an ordinary life. She rises early to do her household chores. Nothing about the day seems unusual. The sun is shining at its predictable angle, neighbors are following their customary routine. Outside, the street is dusty, the distant market noises raucous. Yet before this day is out, the teenager, Mary, will be visited by an angel. The angel will tell her she will soon be with child, and that the infant who will grow inside her is no ordinary baby, but God's own son. It is, for her, a day of wonder.
The church calls this event the annunciation -- a word which simply means, "announcement." Over the centuries, artists have tried to picture the scene. Take a tour of Renaissance sites in Italy, and you will see churches and museums filled with dozens upon dozens of annunciation paintings. After a while, you no longer need to read the placards below the heavy gilt frames. The scene is always the same: there's Mary, kneeling devoutly, and beside her is a rather feminine-looking man in a golden robe, with flowing locks and his arm upraised in blessing.
The late-Medieval and Renaissance artists always seem to know what goes into the scene -- although the real annunciation was private. Mary was the only witness. What really happened? Did she see an angel with her own eyes, or with the secret eye of her inmost heart? Did Mary hear a beautiful voice and suddenly turn around? Or did she hear someone speaking quietly, deep within her soul?
Mary's response to all this is, "How can this be, since I am a virgin?" It's a little like Mary asking Gabriel -- after he has uttered that intricate, awe-inspiring prophecy about "Son of the Most High," and "throne of David," and "house of Jacob forever" -- "Would you repeat some of that for me?"
"Certainly, which part?"
"The part after, 'You will conceive in your womb and bear a son....' "
There's something homely, and very human, about this story. Mary's certainly not ready to receive this wondrous news -- but eventually it does sink in. The angel has just informed Mary that, after hundreds of years of waiting, after untold millions of prayers chanted in the temple, the Messiah is about to come to her people. This child whom she will bear will reclaim the throne of David -- from which no legitimate Jewish king has ruled for centuries. More than that, all nations will pay him homage, and his kingdom will never end.
"But ... how can this be, since I am still a virgin?" Mary wonders at the angel's prophecy, all right -- but hers, at least for the moment, is still a small wonder. Mary's not ready for Christmas. Are we?
Prayer For The Day
Have your own way, Lord, have your own way;
You are the potter, I am the clay.
Mold me and make me, after your will,
While I am waiting, yielded and still.
(Hymn text, "Have Thine Own Way," adapted)
To Illustrate
The world will never starve for wonders, but only for want of wonder.
-- G. K. Chesterton
***
We die on the day when our lives cease to be illumined by the steady radiance, renewed daily, of a wonder, the force of which is beyond reason.
-- Dag Hammarskjold
***
Mary, mother of our Lord, I wish I could be as pure a disciple as you were even from the beginning!
For you were invited to join a sisterhood -- with Tamar and Bathsheba -- of sorrow and human suffering, since the child of your womb would draw the hatreds and the outrages of a scoundrel world.
And you said, "Yes" ...
For it was an angel that spoke to you, a sky-strider, an inhabitant of holy heaven whose face caught fire from standing near to God, whose glory darkened all the common world in which you lived.
Yet you did not hesitate in fear or horror. You said, "Yes."
For history was pouring into your womb, the whole history of the Israel backward through David even unto Abraham; yet you were but a single person, one lone woman. How could a vessel of simple human limitation hold twenty centuries of national endeavor -- triumph, failure, sin, atonement, trouble, prayer, and promise -- and not burst open? But you would burst, Mary. You would spew the son of David into Judah again, and he would keep every past promise of God.
And you said, "Yes."
For heaven itself was swelling within you, and you were the door. Not in terrible glory would he come, this Son of the Most High God. Not in the primal blinding light, nor as the shout by which God uttered the universe, nor yet with the trumpet that shall conclude it, but through your human womb, as an infant bawling and hungry. By your labor, Mary, by the fierce contractions of your uterus, eternity would enter time. The angel said, Will you be the door of the Lord into this place?...
You, the first of all the disciples of Jesus, said, "Yes."
-- Walter Wangerin, Preparing For Jesus (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 1999), pp. 68-69
***
A woman went to the doctor's office. She was seen by one of the new doctors, but after about four minutes in the examination room, she burst out, screaming as she ran down the hall. An older doctor stopped and asked her what the problem was, and she explained. He had her sit down and relax in another room.
The older doctor marched back to the first and demanded, "What's the matter with you? Mrs. Terry is 63 years old, she has four grown children and seven grandchildren, and you told her she was pregnant?"
The new doctor smiled smugly as he continued to write on his clipboard. "Cured her hiccups though, didn't it?"
-- Ralph Milton
***
Jesus observed, "Without me you can do nothing." Yet we act, for the most part, as though without us God can do nothing. We think we have to make Christmas come, which is to say we think we have to bring about the redemption of the universe on our own. When all God needs is a willing womb, a place of safety, nourishment, and love. "Oh, but nothing will get done," you say. "If I don't do it, Christmas won't happen." And we crowd out Christ with our fretful fears.
God asks us to give away everything of ourselves. The gift of greatest efficacy and power that we can offer God and creation is not our skills, gifts, abilities, and possessions. Mary offered only space, love, belief.
Try it. Leave behind your briefcase and notes. Leave behind your honed skills and knowledge. Leave the Christmas decorations up in the attic. Go to someone in need and say, "Here, all I have is Christ." And find out that that is enough....
The intensity and strain that many of us bring to Christmas must suggest to some onlookers that, on the whole, Christians do not seem to have gotten the point of it. Probably few of us have the faith or the nerve to tamper with hallowed Christmas traditions on a large scale or with our other holiday celebrations. But a small experiment might prove interesting. What if, instead of doing something, we were to be something special? Be a womb. Be a dwelling for God. Be surprised.
-- Loretta Ross-Gotta, "Ready For Christmas?" in Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas (Farmington, Pennsylvania: Plough Publishing House, 2001)
