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St. Charles Episcopal Church

December 19, 2010 – Advent 4A

Isaiah 7:10-16; Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18; Romans 1:1-7; Matthew 1:18-25.

The Rev. Elizabeth Meade

So today, it’s the fourth Sunday of Advent. Advent: that quirky time of waiting and expectation. A time to wonder how God might more fully enter our lives; a time to assess where we are with God, and whether Jesus is being born again, this time in our hearts.

I went over to our place in Galena this week for three days. I did it to settle myself, to carve out some time to sleep,

to ignore the phone and the Internet, and to put my mental and spiritual house in order. And it was wonderful.

It was a perfect setting for prayer and reflection – a time of quiet and retreat and stillness.

I made one mistake in going to Galena; I brought Christmas music with me. Three CDs actually….. because we don’t have TV reception over there. Two of the CDs were the normal fare: Hark the Herald Angels Sing, the First Nowell, O Come all Ye Faithful. They were fine, but then I put in one called:“Bing Crosby Sings Christmas.”

As I listened to Bing’s familiar crooning, I noticed that “Silent Night” was the only song on Bing’s CD that was Christmas focused – in the Christian way of being Christmas focused. All the other songs were old chestnuts like: “Silver Bells,” “White Christmas,” “Jingle Bells,” & “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” Listening to Bing’s CD got me thinking – and just a little bit cranky – which shows you just how tired I was! I mean, Hollywood Studios have decided for us what is iconic about Christmas. What do silver bells, city sidewalks, Frosty the Snowman, Dasher and Dancer, or even grandpa watching football after grandma got run over by a reindeer have to do with what we are anticipating on this fourth Sunday of Advent? I really don’t want to be accused of being the voice of Scrooge crying out in the wilderness, but Bing’s album left me seriously befuddled.

I kept asking myself, what does all this “Stuff” have to do with what we are supposed to be watching and waiting for?

Remember the first Sunday in Advent? The Gospel ominously told us we don’t know the day or the time the Lord is coming – just that we must get READY. And the 2^nd Sunday in Advent, where John the Baptist called us a “Brood of vipers” and talked of an unquenchable fire. (Not to mention, Fr. Bill scaring me half to death by yelling, “WAKE UP,” at the end of his sermon!) And just last Sunday, John the Baptist calling out from prison, asking if Jesus was the Messiah. These messages have nothing to do with Silver Bells, City sidewalks, Frosty the Snowman, or chestnuts roasting on open fires, so it’s no wonder many of us find this whole Christmas and Advent thing confusing. Advent, begs us to consider who will be the Lord of our lives. The Church asks us to reflect upon God’s coming to us in the form of a baby: the birth of a new way of being – within ourselves.

Yet Bing……. Bing’s selections are lovely, iconic images of Christmas in America, but not based in Truth; based in sentimentality. They are, simply, constructs; songs written for a world yearning for happiness, stability and safety. And yet, we know songs and sentimentality can’t give us those things; Only God can. God, born as a baby in the person of Jesus, came to give us that peace the whole world years for. Candy canes, Christmas stockings, busy sidewalks, and silver bells are nice images, but they can’t deliver what we really crave. They distract us; they dull the pain, but they simply cannot bring us everlasting joy. That can only come from God, through Jesus Christ.

So, how do we link these Galena reflections of mine with today’s Gospel? Today, in Matthew’s Gospel, we hear the story of Joseph, a man as human as any of us, who had a problem. Listen again to part of the Gospel passage:

                      “ When …Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together,

                           she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph,

                           being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.” 

Joseph must have known Levitical law and the punishment for adultery. The girl who had been promised to him was pregnant – and he knew HE wasn’t the father. Being as human as any of us, Joseph was probably disappointed and angry, and yet he, in his righteousness, modeled exemplary restraint and compassion.

What can we learn from Joseph – who, from here on out, plays no further role in the Gospels?

What can we learn from this simple carpenter from Nazareth, about living with Christ?  

The Gospel invites us first to look at Joseph’s response to betrayal. What if we were Joseph? How do we react when we feel betrayed? If we feel wronged or cheated, how do we respond? What if Jesus had publicly accused Mary of adultery; what was the punishment? Death by stoning. But Joseph was a righteous man.

In the face of public humiliation, betrayal, hurt feelings and broken contracts, Joseph dared to dream and was given Truth. The Gospel urges us to take note of what or who we might be dismissing: what or who we might be writing off, and begs us to ask: Is God present with me now?

Are there miracles waiting to be born?

In the end, Joseph put aside all his own stuff, his own feelings, his own pain, and dared to hope that the reality of his dream would bear fruit. He defied convention, risked humiliation, and moved ahead in obedience – to model for us what a God centered life would look like. In this brief passage, we are given a template for righteous living.

Joseph models living with the ambiguity and uncertainties that life throws our way.

He lived with the strange story Mary told.

He chose not to dismiss her quietly and not to write her off.

He listened. He accompanied. He remained faithful.

Joseph didn’t know about Dasher and Dancer, about mistletoe, about Christmas cards or one horse open sleighs.

Christmas, for Joseph, was not comprised of these things. Nor are they for us.

Silver bells and candy canes and visions of sugar plums cannot prevent what is very real in our lives from happening. They cannot stop hunger and famine nor can they achieve world peace.

Using these things to “create” a Christmas mood is fine, but they cannot be what defines Advent and Christmas for us. We are challenged to go deeper than these things.

The Gospel’s message will comfort us as we face the clouds of unknowing we all face:

              waiting, listening, and anticipating the presence of God right now – right here.

Are we willing to suffer the tension of not having all the answers?

Are our eyes open wide enough to see, and to expect, the miracles all around us?

In Galena, I saw the miracle of two bald eagles swooping down over my lawn Tuesday morning.

 I saw the miracle of life abundant in sub zero temperatures: turkeys and deer, and chickadees and cardinals,

and the snowy lawn covered with paw prints.

The miracle of life in the frozen stillness.

Joseph invites us to pay attention: to listen to the still small voice of quiet, in the face of a lot of distractions.

He invites us to pay attention to our dreams; to be abounding in steadfast love.

Joseph lived, literally and figuratively, with Jesus at the center of his world, and asks us all to do the same.

In not dismissing Mary, Joseph allowed God in, and was entrusted with the care and feeding of the Savior of the world. And so are we.

And that’s the Truth of Christmas:

that the baby whose birth we await is none other than the voice of God whispering into our hearts:

              Come. O Come Emmanuel.

Amen.