O come, O come, Emmanuel. Amen.
What would it take to get you up on your feet and dancing in the aisle? What news could fill you with such joy that you couldn’t contain yourself? Maybe news that there are no new Coronavirus cases and that the pandemic is over? Perhaps learning that your loans have all been forgiven, that you’ve been accepted into your dream school on a full scholarship, that the last scan shows no signs of cancer, that the family member that you haven’t spoken to in a decade wants to find reconciliation, that your favorite team has won the championship?
Today’s
text from Luke, often referred to as the Visitation, is one that beckons us
into the joy of God. We heard Elizabeth say to her visiting relative, Mary,
that when she heard her voice that the child in Elizabeth’s womb, John the Baptist,
leaped for joy. That word joy means so much more than happiness. We all know that
happiness comes and goes, fluctuating more than the stock market does.
Happiness is a perspective we have when things are working out as we would like.
And there’s nothing wrong with being happy – I hope that each of you are filled
with moments of happiness all day long. Joy though is something deeper and lovelier.
The
word that Luke uses for “joy” means something like “to adorn” or “to make resplendent.”
Joy is about exulting with our whole being. Joy is something that can’t be
contained – it’s in our faces and speech. You’ve seen joy before in what some
people call the “glow” of an expecting mother, or in the giddiness of a couple
that is newly engaged, or in the tears of joy that grandparents have in holding
their grandchildren. Joy is not dependent on outside factors, rather joy is a
gift from God, the gift of trusting that God’s love will make all things well.
And this is why joy can happen in situations in which happiness cannot. Joy can
be found in school cafeterias, in a courtroom, during a pandemic, or in the
middle of a hymn at church.
Understanding
joy as coming from the linguistic root of adornment instead of as an emotion, helps
us to recognize joy as something like a wonderfully warm and comfortable coat
on a cold winter day. It is not something that we have to summon from within
us, but rather something from outside of us that we are given to wear. This is
why Scripture sometimes speaks about wearing the “robes of righteousness” or
the “garments of salvation.” Joy is something that God has given us to wear. And
this means that joy cannot be taken away – sure, the cold can get colder, the
winds can blow fiercer, but the cloak of joy remains with us. Joy is grounded
in this abiding trust and hope in God to redeem, restore, and reveal love in all
things.
So
those seemingly trivial things can remind us of joy. When you get a good
parking spot, is that really joy? I don’t know, I’m not in the judging
business, I’m in the declaring grace business. But whatever that feeling is,
whether it’s joy or happiness, at its best, it reminds us of the blessing and
joy that God intends for us. When your team wins a game, it’s not about God
wanting your side to be joyful and the other to be sad, it’s that exuberance that
you feel can be a reminder of the joy that is to come. And what happens when
you feel it? You jump, you shout, you dance, you might even start to sing in
the words of a song you’re making up on the spot.
This
sense of sheer joy that leads to extemporaneous singing is what we find
happening between Elizabeth and Mary. Elizabeth begins with a song and Mary
responds with perhaps the song that has been sung more than any other in world
history – the Magnificat. The song of Mary is one of those parts of
Scripture that I think every Christian should have committed to memory and
should pray with regularly. I’ve preached on that text several times on the
Fourth Sunday of Advent, so this time around, I want to focus on this holy
encounter between two pregnant relatives because it brings us into the fullness
of the joy of Christ’s coming.
As
a reminder, Elizbeth was an older woman, well beyond normal child-bearing years,
as was her husband, Zechariah. God though had chosen this couple to have a
child who would be the prophet to prepare the way for the Messiah. This child
is John the Baptist. An angel of the Lord then came to Mary to tell her that
she would conceive a child by the power of the Holy Spirit and that this child
would be called “the Son of the Most High” and would inherit the throne of
David and reign over a kingdom that will have no end. As evidence of God’s
power to do this, Mary is told that her relative, Elizabeth, who had been
considered to be barren, was now in her sixth month of pregnancy. Then, as our
text this morning opened, Mary set out with haste on the roughly 90-mile journey
from Nazareth to the small town of Ein Kerem, just outside of modern-day
Jerusalem.
Mary
entered the house and, upon hearing Mary’s voice, the child in Elizabeth’s womb
leapt. The sound of Mary’s voice, which undoubtedly carried the grace, love, and
joy of the Christ-child that was in her womb, stirred something in the ears of
Elizabeth and in-utero John. I wonder what sounds and words stir you? Maybe it’s
a particular hymn or piece of music that gives you goosebumps. A few years ago,
I read the Narnia series to Ellie and I’ve just started reading it to
Rowen – every time I read through that series, I’m struck by just how profound
an allegory for faith the series is. Fairly early in The Lion, the Witch,
and the Wardrobe, the children are newcomers in Narnia and don’t know
anything about this land in which they now find themselves. They know nothing at
all about the Christ-figure in the novels, Aslan. They don’t even know that he’s
a lion, and yet when they hear his name mentioned, something tingles within
them. A joy without explanation is summoned in merely hearing the name “Aslan.”
The word signals possibility and hope. Maybe it’s words from our liturgy that
stir something in you: “Almighty God have mercy on you and forgive you all your
sins,” “This is my body, given for you,” “The peace of the Lord be always with
you.” The prophet Malachi wrote, “But for you who revere my name the sun of
righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings. You shall go out leaping
like calves from the stall.” What words or sounds make your heart leap for joy?
In
the recounting of the Visitation, Luke connects this leaping with being filled
by the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is a good way of understanding the joy that
we are gifted with; that we are given to put on. Through the power of the Holy Spirit,
the Word of God swept over the waters at Creation. Through the power of the Holy
Spirit, the dead bones that Ezekiel saw in a valley sprang to life. Through the
power of the Holy Spirit, the couple that had been unable to conceive were
given a child. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, an unwed young girl finds
herself carrying God Incarnate. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, the downtrodden
leap for joy, the fearful find courage to act, and powerful, in encountering something
bigger than themselves, find humility. Through the Holy Spirit, a rag-tag bunch
of disciples spread the Good News of salvation and we are here today because of
the Holy Spirit’s continual work in the world. Through the power of the Holy
Spirit, all things are possible with God: and that includes you. That very same
Spirit that caused John the Baptist to leap is gifted to us all, and that’s as
a good a reason to shout and dance as there is.
Which
is exactly what Elizabeth does next. Our translation this morning says that she
“exclaimed with a loud cry.” The word here that Luke uses to describe Elizabeth’s
song is a word that is used in the Old Testament to describe what people do
with instruments, with cymbals, and with shouts of joy when they came into the
presence of God. It’s a word that conveys a worshipful response to being in the
presence of the Ark of the Covenant or the Temple of the Lord. When she says
that she has come into the presence of the “mother of my Lord” she is telling
us what is at the root of her joy.
Last
Sunday, we heard Zechariah’s song which spoke about the promises of God to come
to his people and set them free, to forgive their sins, to shine on us who live
in darkness, and to guide our feet into the way of peace. Elizabeth offers
praise because she now sees that God is making good on these promises through
the child in Mary’s womb. The proper response to being stirred by the Holy
Spirit is praise that reminds us that we are in the presence of God. However
you do it, this is why prayer is so important – prayer creates the time and space
for us to be reminded that we are held secure in the promises of God. Without
taking this time, it’s far too easy to be swept up by all distractions and
busyness of our lives. For some, Morning and Evening Prayer is a great way to
structure a prayerful life. Maybe using the shorter one-page devotions in the
Prayer Book for morning, noon, evening, and bedtime are better for your
situation. Perhaps you find walking a labyrinth to help be centered in God, or
you might find the rosary to be a good tool. Sunday worship is certainly a part
of it, but Sunday worship simply isn’t enough – we were created to praise God
more than once a week because we were created to experience the joy of God all
the time.
Later
in Luke, Jesus will speak of the blessings in the Beatitudes, but here,
Elizabeth speaks the first Beatitude – “blessed is she who believes.” As I’ve
said many times, a belief is not a hypothesis, not an idea, not thought. Belief,
at least when it comes to faith and Scripture, is about a relationship of trust
and allegiance to God. Blessing and joy come not as a result of the good things
that we do or the bad things that we refrain from doing. Not at all. Rather,
God wants nothing more than to fill us with joy and lavish us with blessings from
the riches of his love. When we are able to trust God’s love as the truest
thing about ourselves, when we put our confidence not in our talents but in God’s
mercy, when we seek first not our own priorities and projects but rather the
Kingdom of God then we are doing what the Bible calls “believing.” And in this
nearness to God, we enter into the joy that the Holy Spirit stirs up within us.
All of this is what this week’s Collect helps us to pray for – that God would purify us so that we can receive with joy the daily visitation of Jesus. Yes, we are anticipating the celebration of Christmas when we remember that Jesus was born in Bethlehem and we await the day on which he shall come again in clouds descending, but it is also true that, through the power of the Holy Spirit, we are visited daily by Jesus Christ. Our prayer is that he finds a mansion prepared in us – so that just as God took up residence in Elizabeth and Mary, that God will also dwell in us. My brothers and sisters, there is a reason to dance, a reason to shout, a reason to sing, a reason to be joyful: God is with us, the love of Christ is ours, the Holy Spirit dwells within us, nothing is impossible with God and we can be secure in our belief that all shall be well in the love of God. Rejoice!
