“Living Between the Already and the Not Yet”
December 22, 2024
Luke 1:26–45 [46–55]
In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. And he came to her and said, ‘Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.’ But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. The angel said to her, ‘Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob for ever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.’ Mary said to the angel, ‘How can this be, since I am a virgin?’ The angel said to her, ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.’ Then Mary said, ‘Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.’ Then the angel departed from her.
In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leapt in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud cry, ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leapt for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfilment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.’ And Mary said:
*** “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”
You have heard it said that timing is everything. However, often this is true only in hindsight. In the moment, the purpose of time in which we find ourselves is hard to adjust into view. Like the months of the pandemic when time was blurred as we waited for vaccines and the end of confinement, it seems that we are living Advent 2024 in a similar time when it is hard to adjust our focus.
Advent tells of and anticipates the coming of Christ. But how do we await the coming of Christ and focus on his teachings when they seem so lost among millions in this country? The new political order that will soon be upon us in America relies on the rhetoric of a Christian nationalism which is totally contrary to the gospel teachings of Jesus. All the unresolved conflicts around the world causing brutal human suffering seem without realistic hopes for peace. Can you focus on awaiting the coming of Christ again amidst all this?
Yet, the expectation of Jesus is always the Christian hope through the ages. Perhaps especially when least expected. Those times may be the most important times for that expectation to be lifted up and, most importantly, the life of Christ being lived out among us and in the world by faithful believers. And that hope often precedes the changing of history.
As Christians, this is time we understand as the “already” and the “not yet” of the kingdom of heaven. The time between “God so loved the world” and waiting for it to come true. The kind of time that Mary understood. Wrapped with the tension between her question and affirmation: “How can this be?” and “Nothing will be impossible with God” (Luke 1:34, 37).
Mary sees the coming of the one in her womb as putting the hungry and most vulnerable first. The wealthiest who now rule are literally sent away. Somehow, Mary sees it clearly — a world of justice and mercy, where every wrong has been made right. She rejoices in a glorious future, but one that has, at the same time, already been secured. She sings of the endless possibility of God, even while knowing the truth of the cross long before we did — that empires silence the protesters, dictators speak lies for their own gain and the powerful crush those who stand in the way of their privilege.
Maybe that is why Mary asked the angel bringing word of her pregnancy: “How can this be?” as she pondered the forces that stifle love with hate.
It seems to me as Christians, we have forgotten the immensity of her song, especially in our Christmas observances. We have forgotten the radical truth of God’s coming in Jesus. Instead we have turned this annual remembrance into a cheery, even self-indulging reminder of divine comfort serving up feel-good spirituality. We have lost sight of the kind of time we are called to keep.
God sent Jesus into a confused, conflicted and needy world for such a time as this. The song of Mary is the one we need to sing this Christmas. Her song reminds us to live firm in faith and bold in action when we think of these days, asking ourselves “How can this be” and yet hear again “Nothing will be impossible with God.”
Maybe what will be born from these times in which we find ourselves are new possibilities for how we imagine God’s presence — a presence that inspires a bold and brave witness of Christians who name and stand for radical mercy and love for the powerless, while against the powerful who oppress and disenfranchise people
In times like these, when conspiracies, lies and distrust grow ever stronger while truth, decency, tolerance and working for the common good of all people dwindles between races, religions and nations — we must be dialoging and deliberating about meaning. For us finding meaning always involves asking “What is God up to in all this?”
Might it be that what God is up to in these times is what Mary sang about. A gentle revolution, not some grand show of power. God chooses the margins of society, where God will be born in dire circumstances, to an unwed mother without a proper roof over her head. To an embarrassed new dad, forced to scoop up his family and flee the country from a powerful and vengeful king. This is the world that God chose to enter at Christmas. Our world. So God could be the difference we didn’t know it needed.
Today, Mary’s song would make our world a place where we might even catch a glimpse of the kingdom of God. It is a song that trusts in God’s future, and it is sung to insist on making God’s future present for all people.
The consequences of crumbling democracies and rising dictatorships, the untold continuous suffering of so many around the world, put the people at the bottom of our societies last. And yet, Mary sees the coming of the one in her womb as putting the hungry and most vulnerable first, and the wealthiest who now rule are literally sent away. The belief in that “promise” of Mary will always be the spark of imagination that can turn things around.
What if, this Christmas, we sang Mary’s song? A song to sing instead of tolerating or speaking words of hate and fear. A song to sing instead of closing our mouths, unwilling to speak up for or speak out against.
Christmas is this very promise and perhaps one that can be easy to forget. Before Christmas became parties and presents, reunions and happy carols, Jesus’ birth was a threat to those in power. It was a threat to those who, in no uncertain terms, would not allow their privilege to be taken away and to those who had become gods of their own making. Christmas was, if you will, unprecedented.
I encourage you to sit down in someplace quiet and take some deep breaths. Then read Mary’s words slowly, and perhaps several times. Then maybe go for a walk thinking about what the coming of Christ was promised to mean for history. And about what they might mean right now, for you, and for all of us who would be followers of Jesus.
Keep these words with you this season. We all need them this Christmas.
Images: 1) The Magnificat, Linda Donlin 2) Unknown
Prayer: We only have the broadest strokes of the story– A census, a donkey, a long journey– And I wonder if that’s deliberate, An invitation to fill in our own details. To flesh out the story of God becoming flesh.
This journey–it is our journey, too. This story-it is our story, too. Every year that we take these steps. We pass by the landmarks of years gone by. The year we got the job, the year we lost it. The year we held loved ones close, the year we lost them.
The footprints on the path from the hardest year are deep, Our feet pressed mercilessly into the dust by the weight of all we carried.
In some years we have the strength to walk, and in some years, we need to ride the donkey.
Our hearts are heavy, our bodies are weak. Lord, give us hope like Mary’s, hope that something new will yet be born.
– Adapted from a prayer by Cameron Bellm
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