Sermon for 3rd Sunday in Advent ("Joy Sunday") -- 14 December 2014

December 15, 2014

Sermon for 3rd Sunday in Advent ("Joy Sunday") -- 14 December 2014

Sermon for Sunday, 14 December

3^rd Sunday in Advent

Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem

The Rev. Carrie B. Smith

Luke 1:47-55; 1 Thessalonians 5:16-24

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Yesterday, a pastor friend from the United States posted on Facebook a picture of her Advent wreath. It features three purple candles and one pink, in keeping with the tradition of many churches. However, tied around the pink candle in her wreath is a black ribbon. “Because it’s just this kind of Advent for me” she wrote, adding the hashtags #Icantbreathe and #blacklivesmatter. The pink candle represents Gaudete Sunday, or “Joy Sunday”, as this 3^rd Sunday in Advent is often called. And the black ribbon represents my friend’s pain and sorrow at the intense racial unrest in the United States right now after the killing of several unarmed black men at the hands of police. For her, this Advent’s “Joy Sunday” is conflicted, a paradox: How is it possible to rejoice, given the current reality in her community?

Photo by The Rev. Angie Shannon

We too may feel the paradox of Gaudete Sunday, as well as of our upcoming Christmas celebrations. How can we celebrate, when so many of us are here to serve those most affected by the occupation, and the wall, and the conflict in Gaza? How are we to sing for joy, when so many of us are far from home and from family? We may not be tying black ribbons on our Advent candles, but we know what it means to hold in tension both Joy for what is, and Longing for what is yet to come. We rejoice because Jesus, the Prince of Peace, is coming soon. And we long for the day when God’s kingdom of peace, justice, reconciliation, and wholeness will be fully realized in Palestine and Israel, and in every place. O Come, O come, Emmanuel! Come and set your people free!

Technically, we don’t recognize Gaudete Sunday on our church calendar. As you can see, we have four blue candles in our Advent wreath here at Redeemer, in keeping with a recent liturgical movement meant to emphasize a “hopeful blue” rather than a “penitential purple”. Since we have “hopeful blue” all four weeks, we don’t switch to a “joyful pink” on the 3^rd Sunday. I’ve been asked several times the last few weeks about why exactly we are blue when the Germans (and the Finns, and the Norwegians) are decorated in purple. I honestly don’t know who makes such decisions, but if I were to guess, I’d say it was an American. Americans, after all, seem to value positivity over almost anything else. We love to say things like, “If life gives you lemons, make lemonade!” In other words, make the best out of what you’ve been given. Be blue, not purple! Purple is just too…heavy.

I asked some of my Palestinian co-workers here in the church if there is a comparable “lemons and lemonade” phrase in Arabic. They thought and thought. They even conferred with friends. Finally, it was determined that there really isn’t anything similar in Arabic. “But,” said my coworker Yacoub, “what we do often say is that God is always giving nuts to the man with no teeth.”

Not quite the same! But this is perhaps more honest than some cheerful nonsense about lemonade that no one wants to hear. Sometimes, it does feel like God is always giving nuts to the people with no teeth. Sometimes, it feels like we can’t catch a break, or that nothing will ever change. And while we want to believe that the arc of the moral universe may be long but is bending towards justice, the reality of what we see around us can make such sentiments seem, well….sentimental.

Thankfully, whether we’re blue, purple, or pink on this 3^rd Sunday of Advent, as people of faith our rejoicing is not the same as having a positive attitude or overcoming our difficulties “with a smile and a song.” Our joy springs from faith and hope, not from optimism. If we look again to Mary’s song (which Anne-Marieke sang so beautifully for us today) we hear how Mary rejoices, not in what she knows about her life, but in what she knows about God. In spite of the overwhelming evidence that her life is falling apart—unexpected pregnancy, no husband, strange visions of angels– Mary sings because she knows God to be faithful.

“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.”

Have you noticed that Mary sings in the past tense about what God is about to do through the baby she is carrying? “He has scattered the proud…brought down the powerful…lifted up the lowly…filled the hungry and sent away the rich.” Last time I checked, the powerful were still on their thrones, and the rich were still getting richer. Last time I checked, the wall was still standing. Last time I checked, people were still getting killed because of their race, or religion, or gender. But Mary, the one we call “Theotokos”, the God-bearer, insists “the Mighty One has done great things for me.”

Making sense of this forward-thinking past tense requires some mental gymnastics for the hearer, but perhaps we understand it more than we realize. This way of thinking is what we do all the time as Christians. We rejoice, not only because God did something amazing a long time ago in Bethlehem, but because that singular event is still happening today. God is come near. Jesus is born. The kingdom is come. And while we still wait to experience the completion of God’s good work in the world, we believe it is not only going to happen but has already happened. The virgin has conceived and has borne a son, and this means God’s peace, justice, and reconciliation have already defeated all evil, hatred, and violence. The wall has been brought down. The checkpoints have been opened. The peoples of this land have been reconciled—already, and not yet. This is why we can sing “Joy to the World, the Lord is come”—during Advent, while Mary is still pregnant!

Dear friends, on this Gaudete Sunday—or the 3^rd Sunday in Advent, or the Sunday of the Christmas play, or whatever we wish to call it—we are joyful. We rejoice in blue, because our hope is in the Lord. We rejoice in purple, because weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning. We rejoice in pink, because Mary said “yes” to God, and shows us what it means to “rejoice always, pray without ceasing, and give thanks in all circumstances.”

We rejoice at all times, and in all places, because as the Apostle Paul wrote to the Thessalonians, “the one who has called you is faithful.”

The one who has called us to this place, and to this community, at this time, is faithful. Can you say it with me? “The one who called us is faithful.”

An unmarried teen has become Theotokos, the God-bearer.