The Rev. Dr. Austin Leininger
Sermon of the 4th Sunday of Advent
24 December 2017
Readings:
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
Romans 16:25-27
Luke 1:26-38
Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26
We’ve waited. With bated breath we’ve waited! We’ve prepared… well, most of us might say we’re still preparing and that it can’t possibly be Christmas Eve already since it’s only just today the fourth Sunday in Advent! We’ve rejoiced and continue rejoicing in the anticipation of what is to come. And today, this Fourth Sunday in our Advent celebration, our readings recall for us the final layer of anticipation we’ll explore this season: Expectation.
While our reading from Roman’s this morning looks back on a Christ who fundamentally changed the rules of what Messiah was expected to be, our other readings look forward to the coming of the One who has been anticipated for centuries!
In the time of King David, the promises of God to God’s people were already firmly embedded in the history, culture, faith, and traditions of the people. Having wandered with the people in the desert for forty years, and carried by the people for what by David’s time was already another four centuries, the promise made to David in today’s reading from Second Samuel is the promise passed down for centuries that would come to rest on Messiah’s shoulders as the heir to David’s seat, legacy, and power.
By the time of Micah’s prophecy, two hundred years later, messiah was expected to look like Christ the King, the messiah who would come and rescue Israel from the persecutions it had been enduring from practically every side. Messiah would call all the inhabitants and children of Israel back from the foreign lands to which they had been scattered, and would stand victorious over Israel’s enemies to take back the throne of David—providing the security and prosperity for all time that we heard in God’s promise to David in today’s reading.
Mary and Joseph, nearly a millennium following David’s time, are still children of this same promise and expectation, only to Mary, a girl likely only barely a teenager, has come the angelic proclamation that she will conceive in her womb and bear a son, who will be called the Son of the Most High, and whom God will give the throne of his ancestor David to reign over the house of Jacob forever, and whose kingdom will never end. The long awaited messiah was to come into the world, not just in her own lifetime, but through her own mothering body!
And then, as we hear in the very different tone of Paul’s letter to the Romans, Jesus happened.
All of the expectations of centuries, the hopes, dreams, messianic visions of unparalleled peace, prosperity, and a ruler to sit on the throne of David for all time was laid at the feet of the Christ Child. Yet as Paul’s gospel in the letter to the Romans lays out the calling to follow in Christ’s footsteps, concluded in his closing doxology from today’s reading, Christ’s kingdom was not the one that had been expected for centuries, but a kingdom in which God’s inexhaustible and undying love was to become the reconciliation of the world—to each other and to God. The mystery that was kept secret for generations is disclosed in the person, teachings, life, ministry, death, and resurrection of Christ (to whom be the Glory forever! Amen!). The throne of David turns out to be that of the shepherd, rather than the one in Jerusalem. And suddenly we’re back to the mystery for which this season seeks to give us the space to prepare.
The incarnation of God’s love in the world in the person of Christ is a breaking through of God’s kingdom into the perpetual here and now of our lives and world. But it is a kingdom—and a messiah—according to God’s expectations rather than ours. The buildup of centuries of human expectation was met with a transformation of those expectations into God’s vision for us as God’s beloved children. Not the children of war, not the children of oppression, revenge, hatred, greed, or any other human vice, but the children of God. Children of peace, of love, of forgiveness, and of blessing. In Christ, it takes all the power of heaven to teach us that the might of centuries of expectation is fulfilled in the loving restraint to use our power to bring God’s kingdom to life through reaching out in that same divine love to those around us.
As we heard this morning in our candle lighting, the Fourth Sunday of Advent is not only the Sunday of Expectation, but the Sunday of Love. It is this Sunday when we hear of God’s promise to David, brought down through Micah to Mary and Joseph’s own time, where we hear the angel’s proclamation of bewildering news to Mary—that she will conceive and bear Messiah into the world, and that her cousin Elizabeth, thought barren, was also already six months into her own pregnancy. Mary’s response is one of trust, love, and expectation—let it be with me according to your word, which was expanded on last week in the Magnificat, “my soul proclaims the greatness of the lord, my spirit rejoices in God my savior!” This is certainly a Sunday of profound expectation, joy, and faith. But ultimately, it is all in anticipation of God’s love being born into the world in the tiny frail human body of the Christ Child. And it seems to me that nothing short of something this profound could call us away from the palpable anticipation of Christmas Eve, which we’ll celebrate in just a few short hours this very day—and could call us back to that inner quiet as we take these last few moments to contemplate the awesome mystery and miracle of Christ’s promised arrival.
This Love Sunday, the last Sunday in Advent, let us look with new eyes at the promises and expectations of Christ’s coming. Where we expected earthly power, let us reexamine our ideas of power and glory through the person of Jesus… In Christ we learn that true power and glory come from the healing touch that reaches out to the sick, the suffering, the oppressed, and the outcast, drawing them in and seeking their wholeness. True power and glory come from the abundant compassion that demands we share what little resources we might have in order that all might be fed, clothed, valued, and loved. True power and glory come from the willingness to reexamine and lay down our own selfish expectations and ambitions to re-center our lives and hearts around the relationships that sustain us. True power and glory come from the confidence and strength to stand up for what we believe in, even in the face of persecution from others. True power and glory come from faith. While we may have missed the point of Christ’s purpose as messiah, just as his own disciples frequently missed the point, we have the opportunity still to rejoice in this new coming of Christ—a cyclic new beginning that allows us, each year, to reflect anew on the awesome importance of Christ’s birth, life, ministry, teachings, death, and resurrection as the messiah God expected him to be.
As we process to the font in just a few moments to Baptize Magnus into our family of faith, and renew the promises we made in our own baptisms, the theme of expectation, love, promise, and hope goes with us. Here is a new life, full of all the promise, hope, love, and expectation that permeates the fullness of this Advent IV Christmas Eve! Here, in the living and breathing flesh of one who could live into nearly infinite possible futures, we see the light of the New Born Christ, rich with the reflection of God’s light, rich with the reflection of God’s love and hunger to be in relationship with us. And as we welcome Magnus into our family, our own hopes, dreams, and reflection of God’s love tie into the fullness of our joy in sharing this moment with Jordan, Marissa, and their families who join us this day to celebrate both Magnus’ birth and first Christmas, as well as his baptism into a family of faith that pledges to walk with him for as long as he allows us to be a part of his journey.
Expectation, as we look into the clear, searching eyes of a new life, takes on an incredible depth. Whatever we may hope for Magnus, whatever we may hope for any of the children that bless our families, it is a hope that brings with it an accompanying expectation that life will be as full of surprises and unpredictable possibilities as the future can hold.
Looking forward to Messiah, the ancient families looking for his coming could never have prepared themselves for the person Christ ultimately became. Hearing of the imminent approach of Messiah to actually come into the world through her own body, Mary’s own hopes and expectations could similarly never have prepared her for the life her son would lead, nor the surprising and unexpected Messiah he would be. Whatever Magnus’ life may hold in store, only God truly knows, but one thing we—as his faith family—can ensure is that he is surrounded by God’s love, is brought up in faith, and will have a family behind him that is there to love and support him no matter what his future holds.
These final few hours before we begin the celebration of Christ’s birth, I can think of no more blessed way to prepare than in the celebration of a new life, full of promise, full of hope, full of expectation, and full of God’s promise to walk this journey of faith and life with us–no matter what.
May the expectations of hope that we carry with us through these final hours draw us near to the manger with awe, wonder, and celebration of what is to come!
Amen.