The Light to Come

For those of you who pay attention to these things, you may have noticed that I am not following the lectionary texts this year. Our church was working through the parables in Luke (the lectionary gospel readings for most of the fall) and it felt appropriate after struggling through their meanings to return to the beginning. So, for Lent I'll be following the texts we'll be using at Sojourner Covenant Church from the first chapters of Luke throughout this season. This past Sunday we focused on the promise of John's birth to Zechariah in Luke 1:1-25. This Sunday we'll be reading from Luke 1:26-38, the announcement of Jesus' birth to Mary.

My reflections for this particular day bridge both stories... the promise of a child. Two children really. One a long awaited answer to prayer. The other an answer to prayer before its time. God can be so frustrating like that. Moving too early or waiting too long. If only the world operated in our timing... And if only the things we hoped for turned out just like we pictured them... I suppose what struck me most today from the readings was the phrase from Luke 1:14-15: "You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord." It seems obvious at first. Of course Zechariah and Elizabeth will be ecstatic having a child after all these years of waiting. Of course the entire community will rejoice, knowing that the shame has been removed, that their priest has been justified. And yet, that is not the reason for the rejoicing. Instead, they will rejoice because John will be "great in the sight of the Lord." If I could just manage to be joyful in the things of God...

To be honest, it terrifies me to think about having a child who will be "great in the sight of the Lord." Such a child is not my own. I cannot protect such a child. Such a child will be different from others, will likely be a bit of an outsider. Such a child may face persecution. Such a child may suffer. How in the world were Zechariah and Mary able to rejoice at the news they were receiving? That their children would walk difficult paths and face much suffering?

We say that to walk with God is to be in the safest place possible. We profess that a life of faith and witness is the highest ideal. But do we really believe it? And are we willing to seek that for our children? This Advent season, will you rejoice in those who are becoming great in the sight of the Lord?

(By the way... thank you to Ileana Garcia-Soto for creating this beautiful manger that sits in front of the Bethlehem scene that will grace the altar at Sojourner throughout this season.)