Step Out of Christmas

This sermon was given at our Advent Four service on Sunday 22nd December. The gospel was Luke 1:39-55. I hope you enjoy reading it!

 

Advent is a strange period in the Church’s year, if you think about it. We always say that it is about waiting. We’re waiting for Christmas Day, for Christ to be born.

But, of course, we know that Christ was already born. He was born over two thousand years ago. So, what are we waiting for?

 

What is Christmas Day, when it comes?

 

Are we just celebrating another birthday, maybe? Congratulations, Jesus! You don’t look a day over nine hundred! I think, though, that we really should get a bigger cake next year, what with all these candles. Oh, and a fire extinguisher might be handy too…

 

I don’t know about you. It feels more than that to me?

 

I think, each year that we go through Advent, we’re actually, genuinely waiting again – each year – for Christ to be born. Not waiting for another birthday, or remembering his birth, but genuinely, literally waiting for it.

 

And that makes Advent strange. Because, of course, Christ was only born once. But, every year, during Advent, we all step out of time a bit.

Every year, during Advent, we join the shepherds, and the angels, and the Magi, and – of course – Joseph and Mary themselves, and wait – with baited antici-… -pation, for Christ to be born.

 

Today, the fourth Sunday of Advent, we focus in on that holy family, on Joseph and Mary. Particularly on Mary. And we join her at her side this week as she goes through her own waiting journey; from Gabriel’s announcement of her pregnancy, through to the birth of Christ – nine months compressed into less than 96 hours. To quote one of the other staples of Christmas (in my house, at least), Dr Who, it really is all a bit timey-wimey.

 

And here’s the thing that blows my mind a bit. Back then, nine months before the very first Christmas Day, Mary understood this. She knew this. Because, when responds to the prophecy given over her birth by her cousin Elizabeth, she stepped outside of time herself.

 

We heard it this morning in her famous prayer; the Magnificat (which we will, of course, sing as our last hymn today too). Bear with me, as I read it out again, but this time in English-teacher mode…

 

“My soul magnifies the Lord,

and my spirit rejoices in God my saviour,

for he has looked with favour 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 promises he made to our ancestors,

to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.”

 

Did you hear it? Mary recognises the universe-shaking significance of the birth of Christ, and what that will mean to generations to come, but she says it’s already happened. The forth-coming birth of Christ means God has already ensured her righteously rebellious prophecy has come to pass – already!

In her prophetic prayer, Mary steps out of time to look back upon the miracle that God has already wrought. She looks back on that fact that God has – in the words of that famous primary school hymn – already turned the world upside down.

 

Ben Wildflower's depiction of the Magnificat - taken from this article in the Washington Post

 

 

Mary’s prophecy is exactly what we wait for each Advent; for the proud to be scattered, for the powerful to be brought down, for the lowly to be lifted up, for the hungry to be fed, and for the rich to be sent away empty. This is what Christmas does. This is what Christmas will do. This is what Christmas has already done.

 

The world may look bad. Things may look uncertain. It may look like hatred, and greed and evil are winning. But they won’t. They don’t. They haven’t. In our last few days of Advent, instead of joining Elton and stepping into Christmas just yet, let’s take our place alongside Mary, and join her in stepping out of time. Let us, with her, continue to wait. Because we know what will come to pass. We know that God and goodness and love have already won. And those are things worth waiting for.

Amen.