Sermon: Love.

First Presbyterian Church

December 24, 2023, Advent 4B

Isaiah 7:10-16; Romans 16:25-27; Luke 1:26-38

 

Love.

 

 

One might conclude, after hearing today's scripture readings, that "love" - the presumed theme of this fourth and final Sunday of Advent - seems kind of absent. Between what seems like a tense scene between a prophet and a king, a big flowery elaborate farewell salutation from an epistle, and what must have seemed a terrifying scene of an angel bringing challenging or even terrifying news to a young girl, there isn't much here that suggests "love" as a major part of the story. 

Or is there? 

Isaiah's account comes in a time when the nation had not yet been dragged off into exile, but threats loomed all around. Two of its neighbors had made an alliance with each other, amplifying the threat against the kingdom ruled over by Ahaz. The prophet Isaiah challenges Ahaz to receive a sign from God about what is to come, but Ahaz, for whatever reason, refuses. Of course, that's not going to stop God or God's prophet, so the sign is given. Book-study participants will recognize this one right out of the oratorio Messiah that we've studied this month: "Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Emmanuel: GOD WITH US." 

From there Handel goes off in different directions in his composition, but Isaiah fills in the picture a little more, culminating in the promise that the two kings threatening Ahaz and his people wouldn't even last as long as it takes for the child to learn the difference between good and evil. Even to a stubborn rebellious king like Ahaz, God is acting out of love. 

Now it isn't clear to whom Isaiah is referring when he speaks of the woman who will conceive and bear that son. In some studies of this passage, it is suggested that the woman belongs to Ahaz and the child she will bear will be Ahaz's successor, Hezekiah, who would become one of the most favored kings in the history of Israel/Judah, maybe even second most favored (no one was going to beat King David). Of course, as years continued to pass and the desire for a messiah continued to grow, this passage began to be interpreted as a prophecy of just such a figure coming. From there it was only a small step for Matthew to quote from his gospel this very passage for that very purpose. 

Compared to God loving a recalcitrant king anyway, maybe it seems easier to find "love" in the reading from Luke's gospel, the immediate predecessor to last week's reading. This love, though, is coming in a way that is going to be awfully challenging for the young woman chosen to be the vessel for that love's coming. 

It sure looks like Mary is alone when Gabriel shows up with his big proclamation. One curiosity about how this account is treated is that, in their haste to elevate Mary as something almost not human, some readers of this text overlook the fact that, far from meekly accepting her fate, Mary questions the angel. "How will this be?" she asks. Even if you are an angel, it still doesn't explain how exactly this is going to work.

In Gabriel's previous visit, to the old priest Zechariah, he had been charged to announce the birth of a son to the priest and his wife Elizabeth, who in her long life had never been able to bear a child. Maybe it was understandable that Zechariah had questioned this news, but Gabriel's reaction there was a bit harsher; he essentially hit the mute button on Zechariah and announced he would not be able to speak again until this child was born and given the name John (as in the Baptist). Here, though, Mary's question is met with ... well, an answer. I wonder sometimes what we miss in scripture readings when we can't hear the tone of voice, as to why Zechariah got muted and Mary did not.

Gabriel does answer, no mute button this time, and then comes the moment of (forgive the pun) pregnant pause, as so much hinges on the answer Mary gives. Luke is much more eloquent in his account of Mary's answer, but one could easily summarize it with any one of a number of different modern vernacular sayings. "Let's do this ... bring it on ... make it so." She answers the call, and the rest is gospel.

One could argue that the presence of "love" here is fairly obvious. In another gospel it is flat-out stated that the coming of this child is an act of love; remember "...God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son..."? How this might look to Mary, one could wonder. This seems like a lot for a young woman, betrothed but not yet married, to bear. Social stigma was as real back then as it is now, and being pregnant before being married was going to carry as much, if not more, of that social shame for her as it would for someone in that situation today. Knowing this, Mary stepped up anyway. 

It seems like the news that Elizabeth was carrying a child might have helped, and again, perhaps it's not an accident that Mary spent six months of her pregnancy with Elizabeth for solace from the stigma. And perhaps in a situation where love wasn't going to be apparent, finding family, finding someone else in a very different but also similar situation probably helped keep Mary from feeling cut off from God's love. At the very least, Mary and Elizabeth could be there for each other. 

One more time, an epistle reading helps us pull it all together. This is a bit more florid than Paul's usual final benediction to his readers. This one, though, besides being an extremely effusive salutation, sums up in its own way just what this Advent we've been waiting through is all about. Paul has proclaimed gospel, opened up what had been a mystery for ages, and now sees this gospel no longer confined to the land of Jesus's birth and ministry but spreading to "all the Gentiles," out into the whole world. Again, harkening back to the famous verse from John's gospel, when it says "God so loved the world," it really does mean the whole world, no exceptions. 

Yes, it's good to see signs of hope, promises of peace, and occasions for joy in the weeks of Advent, but love - God's love for us, which hopefully ends up in love for one another - is, in essence, why we're even here. The God that loved his chosen ones so much even when they rebelled against them, the God who so loved the world, the God whose love was meant for all the world, is the God who loves us. One could even say that's what Advent is all about. 

Thanks be to God. Amen.

 

Hymns (from Glory to God: The Presbyterian Hymnal): #---, When Isaiah spoke a word; #83, Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus; #88, O Come, O Come, Emmanuel (verses 1-4); #88, O Come, O Come, Emmanuel (verses 5-7)