Annunciation by Denise Levertov Hail, space for the uncontained God From the Agathistos Hymn,Greece, VIc We know the scene: the room, variously furnished, almost always a lectern, a book; always the tall lily. Arrived on solemn grandeur of great wings, the angelic ambassador, standing or hovering, whom she acknowledges, a guest. But we are told of meek obedience. No one mentions courage. The engendering Spirit did not enter her without consent. God waited. She was free to accept or to refuse, choice integral to humanness. Aren t there annunciations of one sort or another in most lives? Some unwillingly undertake great destinies, enact them in sullen pride, uncomprehending. More often those moments when roads of light and storm open from darkness in a man or woman, are turned away from in dread, in a wave of weakness, in despair and with relief. Ordinary lives continue. God does not smite them. But the gates close, the pathway vanishes. She had been a child who played, ate, slept like any other child but unlike others, wept only for pity, laughed in joy not triumph. Compassion and intelligence fused in her, indivisible. Called to a destiny more momentous than any in all of Time, she did not quail, only asked a simple, How can this be? and gravely, courteously, took to heart the angel s reply, the astounding ministry she was offered: to bear in her womb Infinite weight and lightness; to carry in hidden, finite inwardness, nine months of Eternity; to contain in slender vase of being, the sum of power in narrow flesh, the sum of light. Then bring to birth, push out into air, a Man-child needing, like any other, milk and love but who was God. This was the moment no one speaks of, when she could still refuse. A breath unbreathed, Spirit, suspended, waiting. She did not cry, I cannot. I am not worthy, Nor, I have not the strength. She did not submit with gritted teeth, raging, coerced. Bravest of all humans, consent illumined her. The room filled with its light, the lily glowed in it, and the iridescent wings. Consent, courage unparalleled, opened her utterly.
Nativity Chatter Luke 1: 39-55 So, at the end of the day, if we are going to visit the holy family and wonder all over again at the mystery and miracle, we are going to have to consider the age-old story in some new way in order to make it real for us in the waning days of 2018. A year that has been fraught with constant turmoil, even more this weekend, as we ponder shutdowns and walls and what seems to be the unraveling of all we know to be orderly about the running of a democracy. In Bob Woodwards book Fear, he quotes from an interview with our current commander in chief that: Real power is, I don t even want to use the word: Fear This year, above many others, demands of us extra work. We come to the nativity with a certain chip on our shoulder. Ok, God, go ahead, get under my skin this year. I dare you to try. We are skeptical of anyone with power, and God is supposed to be the grand poo=pah of power, so that makes God equally suspect. We want to throw God under the bus of every other tyrant who uses position in arbitrary ways; that easily would leave stranded little ones with no place to stay in a hot desert, and who would easily call out forces at the border and order them to kill all newborns because they couldn t find the infant king who might threaten to topple the fear mongerer to the ground. We believe this possible because it has unfolded before our eyes in recent weeks. So getting geared up for an encounter with the holy at manger side is a prerequisite on this day, less than 48 hours away from the blessed event. We start with Mary, because, well,
its obvious, it starts with Mary, right? But maybe not. It s starts with a stunningly similar backdrop. A despot leader has caused fear to be prominent in all hearts. Injustices have become systemic; oppression is no longer questioned, just assumed. The world, from their vantage, could get no more uncertain. Into that setting, when hope sat just on the edge of a cliff teetering, about to fall into an abyss.into that setting, Gabriel visits a teenager, Mary, and tells her fear is no longer her watchword, that hope has been rescued from the edge, and that a new day will come in the most remarkable of ways. Denise Levertov, wonderful poet, captures this encounter so beautifully. Our text from Luke is stingy with words. So she fills in, as any good midrash would do, the gaps that make Mary so warmly human. Does she think about it? Does she ponder the consequences? Does she say yes and then have second thoughts. I know all about second thoughts. In the past 6 months I ve been asked to make many decisions from everything as mundane as where a light switch should go to negotiating the terms of a loan on behalf of 265 people! Yes is the expedient, easiest answer. No comes when you have time for second thoughts, careful consideration. So I love the way Levertov stretches out the seconds between the angel s message and Mary.s answer..leaving a pause for her consent to develop, giving up precious space, so that Mary s commitment does not seem coerced. And then the lovely way Levertov makes this seem an ordinary occurrence that any of us might need to be prepared to take..this saying yes to God with the promise that the world will be saved through our actions. It is a lovely grace-note to suggest that God won t hold it against us if we don t believe we have the right stuff to say yes.
It starts with Mary. And next comes Zechariah and Elizabeth. Zechariah who has already had his encounter with the angel without quite the same outcome. If you remember Zechariah has been struck mute during Elizabeth s pregnancy because he dared to question how this could happen, that his elderly wife might yet bare a child. So angel visits have some variation, we learn. It isn t always gentle. It isn t always patient. It isn t always voluntary. You are going to give me lip, God says? Well, I ll close them. My purpose will move forward. There is no room for slackers in this angel visit. Do not fear, but don t think there isn t a consequence. That s the message from Zechariah. Elizabeth, however, seems unphased by her condition. Pregnant at an advanced age, she meets her relative Mary, and knows what s happening immediately. Pregnant women do have a certain kind of language that they speak, I ll give you that. Walk into an OB/GYN s office and rarely is it a quiet place. If there aren t a bunch of baby number one s running around the office, there are at least pairs of heads pulled together (sometimes random strangers) comparing notes, sharing stories, gearing one another up for the big day, the irregularities, the fears, the excitement, the readiment that must happen. Do you have your room ready? No I haven t even started? Car seat? Well, yes, I have to have that. But I m afraid I ll put it in wrong. Did you know they will help you with that at the fire station? Really? I didn t know. Useful information. And so it goes, that pregnant woman chatter---the antidote to fear and the sisterhood of courage builders. Mary and Elizabeth are related. That cranks up the notch of sisterhood in some families, meaning they don t even need to worry about translation---no cultural, no emotional,
no genetic translation needed---of course my baby is speaking to yours already. They will be comrades in arms, in our arms, and know one another intimately from the get-go. And those lines were hard to hear, right? That s an ideal. It doesn t happen like that in all families or between all women. But the point I try to make is that Elizabeth and Mary are soul sisters. Even if they weren t related, they have this pregnancy in common, and that doubles their strength, and doubles their courage, and doubles their ability to move to the next stage. Under ordinary circumstances, its why humans live in packs that bolstering we need to take on the big events of life good and bad and this is far from ordinary. Mary goes on to sing her heart out. Strengthened by her encounter with Elizabeth, she sings the faith with the words she s always known, passed down to her across generations of people who, even in the face of great fear, were able to stop what they were doing, and sing about God Almighty, who would scatter the proud and lift up the lowly----(lift up folks like Mary and Elizabeth).would fill the hungry with good things this God s mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.and this isn t fear like they have been experiencing, this is fear like awe, like wow oh wow oh wow.you would do that for me, kind of fear. there is a god out there who doesn t view power as a commodity, as a transaction between the rich, as a way to feed an ego, as a way to divide people into submission. Oh my God, awesome God, down on my knees in gratitude kind of fear.that s the origin of this word fear. Well, the rest of the characters aren t in our text for today, but I think we need to teach the test a bit today. Tomorrow night, we need to be ready. We won t have all night, we ll be
here for just a few minutes, so we all must be ready. There s Joseph, of course, stalwart, perhaps the most under-rated and over-performing person at the stable. He could have run for the hills and he didn t. He has to go down to the local watering-hole for the rest of his life and take a ribbing for what he did. We know about that Mary, yeah. we know. He had choice. He didn t have to put himself through this. The angel convinced him it was a good idea and he signed on to the promise with Mary. And then he gets them to Bethlehem, and then he gets them safely to Egypt. And we never hear from him again. Crucial role. He s like the stalwarts we know right now.grace under pressure, these are the ones who aren t freaking out at every crisis or stock market dive or climb..they just keep at it, they keep protecting their loved ones, and providing as best they can, quietly showing up at rallies, and voting with regularity..whose essence screams a calm assurance that there is more to play in the world than stock markets and insane government officials. God promised. God delivers. Get up. Go to work. Stay calm. There are the shepherds..these guys are pretty remarkable too. I picture them heading back to their flocks and they are telling the story to the one they left behind.i know it doesn t say that, but have you seen what happens to sheep untended? It isn t pretty. Somebody stayed behind..and these guys who followed the star come back with actual stars in their eyes and the one left behind says: what have you been smoking? A little baby in a barn did this to you? And the shepherds nod their heads in a kind of dumbstruck, I think I just won the lottery but don t know how I ll ever spend all that money kind of way. And they build up the fire, and huddle around to compare notes, and get their story straight and nod off with
visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads for all times. Gotta love the shepherds---they too, are not affected by any elected official, I d like to note. Not even their boss, the guy who owns their sheep! Then the kings.there are the kings.they come and go mysteriously. they know evil and they know love and don t need a lot of encouragement to do the right thing. they fund the next leg of the holy family s journey with gifts that would have made their heads spin, except Mary and Joseph s head were already spinning. The kings are our ballast, they are that part of our sinking ship that keeps us steady, that give us hope that all those in power are not alike. We can t paint a single stroke across them all. And we certainly can t align our God with any of them. Definition of ballast? to give stability to (a ship) by putting a heavy substance in its bilge. That s the role of the kings..they are the ballast, the heavy load, the heavy hitters, the ones who will keep us balanced and working to elect them the next time we have a chance. They don t do business with despots, they are generous to the poor, they are trustworthy to a fault. Yes, they are the ballast to what otherwise might feel like a sinking ship. That only leaves the little one and the one who sent him. The main event and the main event s producer. The holy is the wild card in this review. The baby doesn t do a thing, just lays there, wrapped in swaddling clothes..the clothes that newborns like the most because they give them comfort and mimic the close quarters of the womb. But a baby typically doesn t have to do much to create a stir out of people, to make a tear drop, or a gut punch, or a cynical thought evaporate. A baby s job is holy in and of itself. And this one is no different.
Barbara Brown Taylor has written a new children s book, I m not using it tomorrow night, but in it she has Mary give the baby to the kings to hold before they leave. It is a precious moment where crusty old road-weary kings, hold the most innocent thing they ve probably ever touched, and they are moved. to get back on the road and back on the trail of justice. Baby s do that. This baby did that, and then grew up..that s a story for another day. All the Christmas story really has to do is get you hooked on the main event so you ll keep reading to the end. A story that starts with a baby is fairly ingenious. And one who is in danger, who might die at the border of dehydration without water, who needs protection from a God who will shout down tyrants, well that baby is pretty provocative without ever saying a word. And the one who produced this whole show? Well that one watches our reaction, muses that it really was a brilliant plan, incarnation, that is.and opens the door for us to come through. There s a light on in the stable, and the door is opened a crack. And if you have the nerve to lay aside all the rest of this junk that constitutes our day and age? and step across the threshold into this God s holy arms? Well, this God invites us all and welcomes us all and has capacity for such good when we step into the nativity chatter and lend our open=throated, song-filled hearts to the choir of God s own making. I picture a one-sided grin, a knowing look of love, a tender majesty, that radiates warmth, acceptance and love like we ve never known. I picture a God who watches the tear in our eye, or the conviction on our heart, or the warmth we can show one another and who says to Godself---these humans really were such a wonderful creation===and with them, all things really are possible.
You are ready. Come back tomorrow night and watch it all unfold. The light will be on for you. And the door will be open. Amen.