The Fourth Sunday in Advent (Year B)
December 18, 2005
The Rev'd Dr. Clair W. McPherson
I.
There are tow basic traditions in painting this event. In the first, the Angel Gabriel looms over Mary from above, she shrinks, kneels, or twists below him. This expresses one important fact about angels–they are–or they used to be–formidable, serious beings, who often frightened people.
But Fra Angelico chose the second tradition. In Fra Angelico’s version, the angel Gabriel in his deacon’s vestments and his heavenly wings kneels down, on one knee, while Mary stands before him. And what does that posture mean? What do you think of when you see a young man down on one knee before a young woman?
This is a proposal. Very often in the past a wealthy suitor sent a messenger to propose: and here God has sent his envoy Gabriel to ask Mary to bear his child.
And according to a tradition that is almost as old as Scripture, she can say yes or no. God has given her that most dangerous and most divine of gifts, free will, a will of her own. At that moment the fate of humankind is all up to her. And that is why in the past when the Church was whole and the Church year was whole, the Annunciation was just as important as the Nativity.
Augustine finds a wonderful truth In this. God he reminds us could have arrived any way at all. But since he was arriving as a male–to fulfill prophecies–he made certain to enter via a female–to remind our kind of the equality of the genders and the dignity of women!
And as Ephraim the Syrite says, it was also only fair that since the first man produced a woman without aid of a woman, the second Eve should produce a man without the aid of a man!
But why now in late Advent?
For one thing, this is always the focus as Advent draws to its close and segues into Nativity.
Advent began with a very wide scope: the end of time and the second Advent of Christ.
Now the season draws to its close with a much closer focus: Mary, chosen and then asked to be the bearer of God wrapped in flesh.
But also, well, that same focus brings us individuals into the picture. As St. Gregory I says, Scripture is a mirror–in which we behold ourselves. Here’s what I mean. Our faith has certain themes it keeps repeating. One of those is this: in faith, the extraordinary becomes the norm. So we too, like Mary, are asked. Mary was asked to carry him in the womb; we are asked, every one of us baptized Christian persons, to welcome him into our souls.
Does that sound daunting? Of course it does. It’s supposed to. Christianity isn’t just about comforting you and saving you. It’s about challenging you and stunning you into growth in the Spirit.
But we are given a little help today. Both in imagining it and in carrying it out. Especially in this last segment of Advent, as the Wreath gets very bright and the time gets very short.
Today’s Collect states the theme, as always. And it offers a wonderful way of thinking about that: “purify our consciences that our Lord when he comes may find a dwelling place made ready for himself.” Hear that metaphor, that comparison? So often our greatest prayers like Scripture offer the most homely comparisons; this is one of the best: preparing your home for a visit from a beloved guest. This guest will arrive in one week. Is your spiritual household prepared?
Well, what do we do when we are waiting for a visit from a loved one? What do you do? What if you just received news that a long lost friend was arriving in one week for a visit? What would you really do?
1. First, or sooner or later, you would for one thing clean house. We know we have to do that when a guest is coming because we want to be able to say make yourself at home and give them the run of the house. As the Collect asks, “purify our hearts.” Some of you I trust have made this Advent a season for doing exactly that: sweeping out the inner person. But if you haven’t, I urge you to try a serious examen of your conscience this week. The week before a Festival Day is a classic time for such an examen.(It was trivialized for a while, then the Church left it aside for a while; and now, we are recovering it–like many an ancient practice).
So is there any residue of resentment, any grimy envy, any stain of guilt, any regret, any such impurity of soul you should deal with before the Guest arrives? Those are the kinds of things that tend to plague proficient Christians, church goers, serious ones such as yourselves. I doubt there’s anyone here who’s really tempted to anything horrible shameful or criminal. But those little spiritual sins–envy, resentment, sullen anger–those are the ones that we need to sweep out of the heart. One of the nastiest facets of that kind of sin is that we get used to it, like the nagging pain we become so accustomed to we forget what life was like without it. So make this fourth week of Advent work for you–open your conscience for God’s purification. If you need help, as Bp St John told you, there is always the classic Anglican form of confession–which all may have, none must–but some should. Ask yourself if you’re one of those who should. There’s no week like the present, I assure you.
2. IF you knew a good friend was coming in a week to visit, you would think about how you will spend your time together. You would make, find, save time for him or her. You would rearrange your schedule, busy though you no doubt are.
This could take two forms. First, just as you would do if a good earthly friend were coming to visit, think of some things for your loved one to do. Now, what does Christ like to do? Does it seem a silly question? Only if you don’t understand him as a person. What does the Gospel record show he liked to do?
Heal. Try that. I do not mean work a miracle–though we have it on Christ’s own authority that we could if our faith were strong enough. I mean take one evening one afternoon one noonday hour this last week of Advent and visit the sick. Quite deliberately, and do not wait for the spirit to move you. If you do this, the spirit will have done exactly that whether you feel it or not.
And Christ liked to teach. So teach someone. I don’t mean–again–lecture someone in a classroom. But I do mean explain your faith to someone. Or tell someone why you were here this morning, whatever it was that brought you here–it might open a door for them. Just some tiny aspect–like I did with Eve and Adam a moment ago.
Christ obviously liked to worship. And again obviously you are going to do that. But remember how he worshiped–always in the spirit of child to father. Try that. Try coming before God when you come to Church next week as a child–needy, frightened, thrilled, and above all thankful as healthy children really are. Think of how good, how really good, thankfulness feels. It doesn’t feel like obligation, it feels like privilege and it doesn’t feel like dependency it feels like freedom. Work on your thankfulness this final segment of Advent as preparation for midnight Mass next Saturday. Again do it quite deliberately, consciously, methodically. Do not wait for the spirit to move you.
Second, if you had a loved one coming from far away, you would schedule some peace and quiet for your loved one to enjoy. The last days of Advent are a wondrous time for this. Catch the spirit of the desert fathers, of Anthony who said to control your tongue is to know how to live and of Agatho who carried a stone in his mouth for years to learn the power of silence or Abba Pastor who said any trial can be conquered by silence or Abba Moses in Scete who said go to your cell and be silent and your cell will teach you everything you need to know or Abba Pambo who said nothing to a visiting church dignitary except if you aren’t edified by my silence you will never be edified by my words. All these were simply accomplished imitators of Christ. Who clearly liked silence; he sought it deliberately again and again.
Remember Mary’s reaction, once she said yes to God? She kept silent and pondered these things in her heart. It’s especially important right now, when the world gets dark but also a bit noisy. Don’t fight it, just make sure there is some silence in your world when Christ visits there.
I know you are busy. You are no doubt a responsible, industrious adult with all sorts of genuine duties. Good. But I have noticed and my friends have confirmed something strange–when you deliberately add things like visiting the sick and keeping silence to your already busy schedule, you suddenly feel less cramped, less rushed, more able to do what you need to do, you eve seem to have more time and not less.
3. Decorate. But the you don’t need admonishment there. The whole world seems to know it’s time to decorate. “Furnish and deck my soul that thou mayst have/ A better lodging than a rack or grave”–George Herbert. Let the outer decor work for you. Have a sense of humor about it.
Purify our consciences, we beseech thee O lord, that thy son when he comes may find a dwelling place made ready for himself.
There is one more echo in that prayer. And that echo I believe is its most powerful secret.
A dwelling place made ready for himself. Exactly what he did not find at his first Advent. Next week we shall hear great glad tidings and good news. But this 4th Lord’s Day in Advent braces us for the one very real mournful and sad note in the midst of that good news. At Christ’s first Advent, there was no room at the Inn: and of course that too became a mournful theme that sounded throughout his life. He came to his own say the fourth Gospel and his own received him not. His own, some think, means his own tribe or nation. But Johns Gospel never says that, it just reads “his own.” I believe it means “his own species.” Everyone he could lay claim to as his. I believes that includes every breathing human being–if not in the words of the last Psalm, everything that has breath.
The Collect asks you, invites you, urges you to reverse that story, to turn that theme into joyful noise, to welcome him.
Are you ready? Prepare a place. Sweep out your soul. Schedule a few of the corporal acts of mercy, and carve out some holy silence. You know, we have a special blessing this year: the longest Advent season there could possibly be. A full four weeks. And so you have a full octave left–the traditional Christian name for the span from Sunday to Sunday. It’s ample time to be ready.
The Angel Gabriel not only made Mary a promise; he asked her a question. You and I hear it now in our way: will you welcome God? Will Christ feel at home in your soul? Will it be a dwelling place made ready for himself? God is asking you that question. The answer is up to you.