FIRST SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS, YEAR B

December 27, 2020

St. Matthew and St. Mark, Barrington, R.I.

Psalm 147:13-21

Isaiah 61:10-62:3

John 1:1-18

It is once again a great pleasure to share with you—both the few here in the church and all those participating remotely at home—in offering worship to Almighty God on the Lord’s Day. 

The readings appointed for this first Sunday after Christmas present a wonderful array of images of light, warmth, and life dispelling the dark, cold, and dead of winter.

These closing months of 2020 have turned out to be a wintry season in ways that go well beyond climate and weather. So, this morning’s scriptural promises are particularly welcome not only when we’ve just marked the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year, but also at this particular time in the history of our communities, the nation, and the world.

The verses of Psalm 147 that we’ve just prayed together describe a freezing winter storm: “[God] gives snow like wool; he scatters hoarfrost like ashes. He scatters his hail like breadcrumbs; Who can stand against his cold?” But then, in the immediately following verse, comes the thaw: “He sends forth his word and melts them; he blows with his wind and the waters flow.”

Such a psalm can be read as depicting not only material but also spiritual realities. God’s word is capable of thawing not only a frozen landscape but also our frozen hearts. God blowing with his wind so that the waters flow calls to mind the breath of the Holy Spirit and the waters of Baptism.

Today’s reading from the Prophet Isaiah uses similar springtime imagery to portray the effects of the Lord’s coming: “For as the earth brings forth its shoots, and a garden causes what it sown in it to spring up, so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all nations.” Then the prophet continues to describe light driving out darkness: “For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not rest, until her vindication shines out like the dawn, and her salvation like a burning torch.” 

And today’s Gospel takes up these images of light and life to describe the Incarnation of the Divine Word, the eternal Son of the Father, whose life is the light of all people: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it … The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

In the children’s story, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe—a spiritual classic which I highly recommend to readers of all ages—C. S. Lewis deploys the metaphor of winter to portray a fallen world. The alternate-reality land of Narnia, accessed by a group of school children through a magic wardrobe, lies frozen under a curse, blanketed by snow. As Lewis puts it, it’s always winter, and Christmas never comes.

But when the lion Aslan, the story’s Christ-figure, arrives in Narnia, the thaw begins. The snowing ceases, the ice begins to melt, shoots of plants and flowers start poking through the ground, the leaves begin to bud, and, to cap it all off, Santa Claus arrives with his reindeer and sleigh to distribute gifts to one and all. (Of course, as a British writer of a certain generation, Lewis calls him not Santa Claus but Father Christmas.) Aslan’s arrival in Narnia wonderfully symbolizes Christ bringing light and life to a world that has lain for centuries under the curse of sin and death. In short, Christmas has come.

Over the past few years, I’ve discovered that the Collect of the Day often provides a helpful interpretive key to the readings and psalms appointed for that day in the Church calendar. Since we have yet to read the Collect of the Day in this service of Morning Prayer, let me read it to you now by way of anticipation: “Almighty God, you have poured upon us the new light of your incarnate Word: Grant that this light, enkindled in our hearts, may shine forth in our lives, through Jesus Christ our Lord …”

Notice how this Collect describes a three-step process. First, God has poured upon us the light of his incarnate Word. Jesus Christ has come into the world; his birth is what we’ve just celebrated on Christmas Day. But second, this light is not meant to remain external, illuminating us from without. So we pray that it may be enkindled in our hearts, enlightening and warming us from within. Then, third, with our hearts thus set on fire, we pray that this light may shine forth in our lives, bringing life and warmth to those around us—our families and friends, our homes and workplaces, and, further afield, among people and communities across the nation and throughout the world.

A tension sometimes arises in the Church’s life between two tendencies that are sometimes called “personal religion” and “the Social Gospel”—or, in some traditions, “the contemplative life” and “the active life.” That is: between those who want to emphasize the Christian relationship with God in worship, prayer, and meditation, and those who want to emphasize the Christian calling to go out into the world and participate in the Church’s mission and ministry. (As a visitor and guest, I hasten to add, I have no idea whether or how this tension plays out in this parish—but I’ve certainly seen it in many other parishes and congregations.)

In any case, today’s Collect suggests that this is not an “either/or” but a “both/and” proposition. That is, the light of Christ cannot truly shine forth in our lives unless it’s first enkindled in our hearts. Conversely, when that light does warm our hearts, we can’t help but want to let it shine forth by acts of kindness, words of encouragement, works of mercy, and lives of service.

Above all, we need to remember that Jesus Christ, the Word Incarnate, is the true source of all light, warmth, and life. As today’s Gospel says of Saint John the Baptist, we are not that light, but are sent to bear witness to that light. And so, during this twelve-day season of Christmas, we might profitably meditate on that Collect, and then reflect on what steps we can take now to invite Christ into our hearts, so that he may set us on fire, and make our lives a beacon of his light to the world.

ADVENT IV, YEAR B

December 20, 2020

St. Matthew and St. Mark, Barrington, R.I.

II Samuel 7:1-11, 16

Luke 1:26-38

The readings appointed for this Fourth Sunday in Advent reveal that our God is a God of surprises! In the Old Testament reading from Second Samuel, God surprises King David; and in the Gospel reading from Saint Luke, God surprises the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Finally enjoying the peace of his kingdom, King David tells the Prophet Nathan that he wants to build a house for God—that is, a Temple to house the Ark of the Covenant which up until that time has had only a tent for shelter. We remember that the Ark was the chest containing the two stone tablets, engraved with the Ten Commandments, which Moses had brought down from Mount Sinai; it was also considered God’s throne on earth: the appointed meeting place between God and humanity. 

But God tells Nathan to go and say to David: “Are you the one to build me a house to live in? I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt until this day, but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle.”

Then in a wonderful play on words, God basically says, “No, you don’t build me a house; I build you a house!” Here the word “house” means not a physical building or material edifice, but rather a royal dynasty. And God makes David an amazing promise: “Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure for ever before me; your throne shall be established forever.” It’s not what David is expecting to hear; but God is a God of surprises!

Approximately nine centuries later, God sends the angel Gabriel to tell the Virgin Mary that she’s been chosen to be the one through whom God will fulfill this ancient promise to David. Coming literally out of the blue, Gabriel addresses Mary with the mysterious words: “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” Mary’s shock and surprise are apparent as Luke tells us: “She was much perplexed by his words and wondered what sort of greeting this might be.”

But the most surprising part is yet to come. Gabriel explains to Mary that even while remaining a virgin she will conceive and bear a son who will inherit the kingdom of his ancestor David, and of whose kingdom there shall be no end. 

Gabriel’s answer to the question, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” effectively describes Mary as a new Ark of the Covenant. We remember that David’s son King Solomon finally did build that Temple in Jerusalem, and placed the Ark in its inner sanctum, the Holy of Holies. But when the Babylonians destroyed the Temple in the sixth century BC, the Ark disappeared, and to this day nobody knows what happened to it. By New Testament times, the Holy of Holies in the rebuilt Jerusalem Temple stood empty.

When Gabriel says to Mary, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you,” he’s using the same language that the Old Testament used to describe the glory of the Lord filling the Tent of Meeting (and later the Temple) when God would descend from heaven upon the Ark. Similarly overshadowed by the divine glory, Mary becomes the Ark of a New Covenant, the new dwelling-place of God on earth. It’s probably the last thing Mary is expecting to hear; but God is a God of surprises!

In Luke’s Greek, the grammatical form of Mary’s answer, “let it be with me according to your word” expresses not merely passive acquiescence but enthusiastic affirmation and active cooperation. It’s not like she’s saying, “Yeah, right, whatever,” but rather, “YES! Let’s make this happen!” And that assent is the critical prerequisite to the Word taking flesh and dwelling among us that we shall be celebrating this week on Christmas Day.

The great gift that Mary receives at the Annunciation, the great favor that she’s found with God, does not mean in any way that her life will be easy. There will be moments of inexpressible joy, like the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem. There will also be times of danger and hardship, such as the flight into Egypt to escape King Herod’s massacre of the Innocents. And eventually that sword of unbearable sorrow, prophesied by old Simeon in the Temple, will pierce Mary’s own soul as she stands at the foot of the cross watching her Son suffer and die. But in the end, her faithful obedience will turn out to be infinitely worthwhile as she’s among the witnesses to the divine surprise of all surprises, her Son’s resurrection from the dead and ascension into heavenly glory—into which she also will be taken up at the end of her earthly life.

Today’s readings invite us to be receptive to whatever surprises God may still have in store for us—as individuals, as families, as communities, as the Church. It’s been a hard year, and I think that we’re all ready for some Good News. The question is how we can ready ourselves to say yes to God with willing consent and active cooperation, as Mary did. The answer, I think, is fairly simple. We need to remain constant in prayer, open to the unexpected, and reliant on God’s grace and strength to do in and through us what we could never do for ourselves. 

Notice that in today’s Old Testament reading King David does nothing to earn or merit the promises he receives from God. On the contrary, David is not that exemplary a character, and God’s pledges to him are sheer gifts of undeserved favor—made according to God’s goodness and faithfulness and not necessarily David’s.

By contrast, the Church has traditionally taken the Blessed Virgin Mary as the highest model and example of Christian discipleship. Even so, God’s grace is everything. Gabriel’s initial address to Mary, “Greetings, favored one!” might be translated better as “Rejoice, O highly-graced one!” Or even: “Hail, full of grace!” This greeting suggests that God has already prepared Mary for her unique mission. All that’s required is Mary’s willing assent, which is in turn made possible only by the special grace with which God has filled her from her beginning.

While Mary’s vocation to be the Mother of God Incarnate is unique and unrepeatable, we each of us have our own calling to serve God and our neighbor in our own distinctive way. The good news is that God has also been equipping us with his grace all along, at least from our Baptism (if not before). He continues to strengthen us daily, as we turn to him in prayer, and weekly, as we keep the Lord’s Day by whatever means are available to us even in this wretched time of pandemic. So, we trust in God’s promises, rely on his grace, and stand ready to say yes when God surprises us—as he will—with his calling and with his gifts.