Fourth Sunday of Advent 2018

Luke 1:39-56

Today is the fourth Sunday of Advent. As we have journeyed towards Christmas, we have tracked God’s preparations through the patriarchs and matriarchs of the faith; through the prophets; through the fore-runner John known as the Baptiser; and now at last we come to the Virgin Mary, the Mother of our Lord.

Luke begins his account of the Good News with the miraculous birth stories of John and Jesus. We are introduced to Zechariah and Elizabeth, and to Joseph and Mary. Joseph is ‘of the house of David’ and to the child Mary shall bear ‘the Lord God will give…the throne of his ancestor David.’ But Joseph is not the child’s father; and one of the questions I am often asked at this time of year is, how, then, is Jesus to be considered a descendant of David? The first thing to say is that an adopted son is fully a son, and therefore Jesus is indeed a descendant or son of David through Joseph. But I want to argue, I think with Luke, that Jesus is doubly son of David, through his mother also. Let me explain why.

The story recounting Mary’s visit to Elizabeth is more than a factual record. Luke crafts it to resonate with the story of David bringing the ark of the Lord to Jerusalem (2 Samuel 6). Church tradition tells us that Mary was Luke’s direct source, and, judging by her song the Magnificat, I would suggest that Mary herself intentionally crafted the telling of her story to resonate with that old story.

In 2 Samuel 6, we hear that David sets out for the hill country of Judea (2); there is a celebration to honour the ark (5); and the Lord bursts forth against Uzzah (8). This occurs because they had not treated the ark with due respect; with the result that David is afraid to bring the ark of the Lord into his care (9). The ark therefore spends three months in the house of Obed-Edom, during which time the Lord blessed him and all his household (10-12). David then returns to carry out his intention to bring the ark to Jerusalem. This time, as well as rejoicing, he humbles himself (14). David then distributes food among all the people and sends them away full (18-19). However, he argues with his wife Michal, claiming that he will be held in honour, and sending her away empty, or, childless (20-23).

Compare this, then, with our Gospel reading. Mary sets out to a town in the Judean hill country (39), where there is a celebration (41: even the unborn child John joins in). The Lord bursts forth, not in anger this time but filling Elizabeth with the Holy Spirit (41). Elizabeth welcomes Mary into her home and recognises that this is a sharing in blessing; and Mary stays there for three months (39-56). Interestingly, this episode, mirroring David’s reluctance to bring the ark into his care, parallels Matthew’s explicit account of Joseph’s dilemma regarding whether to divorce Mary quietly or take her into his house.

And then there is Mary’s song. Mary humbles herself (41) even as she rejoices (46-47). She predicts that she will be honoured by all generations (48). She declares that God has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts (51) and brought the powerful down from their thrones (52)—compare Michal—and has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich empty away (53)—compare David.

At the start of our Gospel reading, Mary is the new ark of the Lord; the created container that carries the uncontainable Creator. By the end of our reading, while remaining the new ark, Mary has also become the new David. Or David has become Mary. By taking upon herself the identity of David, Mary’s son will be the son of David through his mother, in addition to son of David through adoption by Joseph. And the new thing God is doing is revealed to be deeply and lovingly rooted in what has come before, the centuries-long careful building to this moment.

Now, there is a sense in which Mary is not only blessed among women but unique among human beings. She is the Mother of God, who bore the incarnate Son. But there is also a sense in which Mary is a model for the Church, for all Christian women and men. If we forget the former, we lose the latter; if we ignore the latter, we devalue the former.

Mary is the new ark of the Lord: and we are called to carry the presence of Christ into the world. With reverence, but also with haste, and with expectancy.

Mary is the new David: and we are called to respond to God’s call on our lives with joy and humility. With singing and serving.

Each year as Christmas draws near, we return to the story, to hear again, as for the first time, our heritage and our calling. And as we hear these well-worn words, at once so familiar and so strange, so comforting and disturbing, where do you find yourself in the story? Are you bursting with praise like Mary? Leaping for joy with John? Will you be filled with the Holy Spirit, like Elizabeth? Or perhaps you feel more like Joseph and Zechariah, troubled, mute, off to the side looking on from a distance? Brought down, or lifted up? Filled, or empty?

More than likely, where we find ourselves in the story varies from year to year. But like a womb, the story is elastic. There is room for us all. The Lord has spoken, and has, and will, fulfil his word. Blessed are we who have believed.