13 January 2018

Sermon, Advent IV, Year B, Luke 1:26-38, 24 December 2017

         Finally we’re getting to the Christmas story. But no, it’s not Christmas yet. About every six years, the fourth Sunday of Advent falls on December 24. This means during the day that Sunday is Advent. When evening comes, so does Christmas. So if by chance you came expecting a Christmas service, please do come back tonight.
For those of you who have been here every Sunday, you’ve listened patiently to three weeks of weird lessons. The first Sunday of Advent brought us Jesus speaking about the end times. The second and third Sundays told part of the story of John the Baptizer. Now, in this final Sunday of Advent, we get to hear about Jesus. A nice safe gospel reading about how Jesus came into being.
Except it’s not so safe as we might like. It does, after all, stretch the bounds of our contemporary credulity by asking us to believe in things like angels and virgin births. But still, the story is, at least, familiar. And it is, at least, finally about Christmas, more or less.
         Yet today’s Gospel story still places us squarely in the anticipation and waiting of Advent. While today’s gospel may sound like Christmas, no birth has yet occurred. Before conception can take place, belief must enter. Both for Mary and for us, believing and conceiving are strongly entwined. The prophecy of the birth and the belief in the birth itself are things for our hearts to dwell on in this last Sunday of Advent.
Today’s gospel is yet another story about prophesy and prophets, just like the last three weeks.
The first Sunday of Advent we heard Jesus speaking of the end of all time. The second and third Sundays of Advent we heard John the Baptist’s prophecy about Jesus. This final Sunday of Advent we hear the prophecy of the birth of Jesus.
         Biblical prophecies often have common themes. In birth prophecies, for example, the couple is beyond childbearing age, or the woman is unable to bear children, or there is some impediment to having children.
In addition, the stories of those whom God asks to become prophets have certain elements as well. And Luke’s Gospel tells us how insignificant Mary is.
The angel visitation happens in an insignificant part of the country: Galilee, in the most insignificant of towns: Nazareth. Mary was a young girl, probably twelve or thirteen, and girls were insignificant people in her time.
Never in scriptural history has an insignificant young girl in an unimportant town been asked to do the most significant thing of all: to bring forth the Messiah, the Christ, from her own body.
         To this insignificant girl in this unimportant town comes an angel. The angel calls Mary “favored one.” Mary must have wondered about this. Here she was, like thousands of other young girls in hundreds of other towns and an angel came to her? An angel did not come to Mary because there was anything that made her particularly favored. Instead an angel came to her and that was why she became the “favored one.” Yet this is exactly the kind of reversal God has in mind: the poor and lowly are lifted up and the proud and the rich are brought down. In Mary herself, begins the reversal Jesus the Messiah brings to the world.
         The angel says to Mary: “The Lord is with you!”[1] This also is a reversal. These words are said throughout scripture to warriors and prophets such as Moses, Gideon and Jeremiah. These words have never been said before to an insignificant girl in an unimportant town.
         Mary is asked to bring her body to the prophecy of God. This also is something God has not done before. There are other women in the bible, most notably Elizabeth, the mother of the John the Baptist, who bore children for God with special roles or lives. But never in human history had any woman been asked to use her body to bring the flesh of God into the world as human flesh.
         Finally, in Mary’s acquiescence to bring God’s flesh into the world, Mary does a new thing as well. Mary responds, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.”[2]
         “Here am I” is a typical response to a call from God. What is new about Mary is that she responds after she is told the enormity of God’s plan.
Most of us are willing to respond, “Here am I” when we don’t know the details. How many of us have said yes unthinkingly before the entire proposition was explained to us? Yet here is Mary, knowing what God has in mind for her to do, and she responds, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.”[3] Mary, an insignificant virgin in an unimportant town, does the most significant act of all. She says those words knowing what God has in store. Martin Luther put it this way:
…most amazing of all is that this maiden should credit the announcement that she rather than some other virgin had been chosen to be the Mother of God….had she not believed, she could not have conceived.

May we also, as we celebrate Christmas, believe so we may conceive: Christ in our hearts, and in our hands, and on our lips. AMEN.


The Rev Nicolette Papanek
©2017



[1] Luke 1:28b (NRSV)
[2] Luke 1:38 (NRSV)
[3] Ibid.

Sermon, Advent III, Year B, John 1:6-8, 19-28, 17 December 2017


“Nagging is the repetition of unpalatable truths.” Thus said Baroness Edith Clara Summerskill. Born in 1901, she was a physician, feminist, Labour politician, and writer. The quote about unpalatable truths was in a speech given to the Married Women’s Association in the House of Commons on 14 July 1960.
Now if there were ever someone who repeated unpalatable truths, it’s John the Baptist. He bursts on to the scene in his camel’s hair tunic and leather belt, the first promoter of trail mix, made of locusts and wild honey. And his cry is that he is not the Messiah, but the one crying out in the wilderness to prepare the way for God.
The unpalatable truth John keeps repeating is to prepare the way. I wonder this morning, what unpalatable truths have we heard lately? Who are the John the Baptists in our lives? Who are the truth tellers who call us to prepare the way of the Lord?
Most of us have someone in our lives who is an annoyance. This is the person who refuses to let us off the hook. He or she is the person who urges us to change. This is who believes we can do things differently. This is the person who wants us start something or start over.
And yes, this morning is a good morning to talk about this with John the Baptist for our example of a nag. And if nagging is the repetition of unpalatable truths, perhaps we could find out about those truths.
As we move toward Christmas, let’s pause for a moment and think Advent: a beginning, a time to repent and reflect, to anticipate and recreate.
Think for a moment: Whom is the person telling you unpalatable truths? Who is the person who repeats those truths? Who has nagged you by repeating an unpalatable truth?
It helps to tell the story of that person and the unpalatable truth you learned from them to someone else. This morning I invite you to do this. Turn to the person next to you, or go and find someone near you, and tell the other person what unpalatable truth you’ve been told. You don’t have to say who told you that truth unless you want to do so. Just tell the other person these things:
What is the unpalatable truth?
How has learning that your unpalatable truth made a difference in preparing the way for God?
And when you have told your story of an unpalatable truth that made a difference to you, listen to the other person’s story.
(I gave everyone about 5 minutes to talk about this.)
Now let’s pause for a moment and thank the truth tellers in our lives. Silently thank the person who told you an unpalatable truth that made a difference. And when you have a moment with that person some time soon, you can thank them in person and see if they want to share some trail mix with you. AMEN.

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2017