We Need a Little Peace
We Need a Little Christmas • Sermon • Submitted
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· 6 viewsIn these challenging times, we all need a little hope. We need a little peace. We need a little joy. We need a little love. We need a little Christmas... now!
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One of my favorite places in the world is Nazareth, Israel. I’ve been there twice now, leading pilgrimages, and had planned to take another group over in June 2021. The COVID pandemic put the kibosh on that (we’ve rescheduled for October 2022), but I’m yearning to return. Because there are few things that bring the Christmas story more to life than actually being there where it all happened.
In Nazareth, we always stay at the convent of the Sisters of Nazareth.
From the guest rooms on the top floor of the convent, you can access a rooftop area, overlooking the city below. At night it is particularly gorgeous.
From that rooftop, you can look across the street to the Church of the Annunciation, which commemorates the moment when the angel came to young Mary to give her incredible news.
When I was there last, in 2019, late in the dark of a cold February night, I shot a Facebook Live video that I’d like to share with you today.
[2:32 VIDEO - from Nazareth - Church of the Annunciation]
The church has several levels to explore. At the lower level, you can see the cave area that likely formed the home where Mary and her family lived and where our scripture today likely took place.
Worship services today take place just outside that area throughout the day, with local Christians and pilgrims worshipping alongside each other. It is usually very, very busy, but last February I was able to snap a rare quick moment with not another soul in the picture.
In that carved out area, fenced off from public access, there is now an altar where five words are inscribed in Latin:
“VERBUM CARO HIC FACTUM EST.”
It’s from the Latin version of John 1:14: “Verbum caro factum est.” “The Word became flesh.” But there is one little additional Latin word here — “hic” — that changes the verse from “the Word became flesh” to “the Word became flesh… HERE.”
… Here, in Nazareth, was where God broke into human history to do something brand new. Here, in Nazareth, was where God entered in to bring healing and wholeness to a broken world.
This is the second Sunday of Advent. Last week we lit the first candle on our Advent wreath representing hope. This week, we lit the candle of peace.
Peace.
We long for it.
We crave peace in our world,
in our country, in our communities,
in our churches, in our spirits.
Peace.
On my first trip to the Holy Land in 2017, I picked up this little mug. On it is the Hebrew word for peace: shalom. Shalom is far more than just an absence of war or conflict. Shalom is completeness, health, harmony. It is about being the same inside and out. It is about being whole.
Peace is what makes it possible for us face with confidence and hope whatever the world throws at us.
Peace — shalom — is what makes Mary’s story possible.
Last week we looked at the story of Elizabeth and Zechariah, an aging couple who had longed for years for a child of their own. In the culture of their time, being childless was seen as a punishment from God. They prayed that their shame would be lifted, but no longer really believed it was possible. So, when Elizabeth becomes pregnant with their son John, they rejoiced, and everyone around them did, as well.
Contrast Elizabeth’s story with Mary’s. There are lots of similarities: an unexpected visit from an angel, who gives astounding news of a miraculous birth. There’s a question about how this could be possible, followed by a sign being given to the questioner. And, then, the fulfillment of the promise.
But there is where the similarities end. Elizabeth is a long-married woman who had prayed for a child. Mary is a young teenager, engaged, but not yet married. Her father would have arranged the marriage to Joseph. For a year following the engagement, Mary would continue to live with her parents, and after a year, Joseph would take her home with him, and the wedding would be celebrated.
Mary knew that she would soon be married. She may have prayed for the children she would eventually have, but she certainly wasn’t praying for a child right now.
All those around Elizabeth would have celebrated this amazing, surprise gift of a child to her and Zechariah. The people around Mary would have clucked their tongues in judgment of this unwed mom-to-be. In her culture, an unmarried pregnant woman could not just be shunned by her family and ostracized by her community, she could be stoned to death for the pregnancy.
It’s also interesting to see the differences in Mary’s and Zechariah’s reactions to the angel’s astonishing promise of a child. Zechariah immediately voiced doubt (and then lost the ability to speak for nine long months). Mary’s reaction is fascinating! All she says is: “How will this be, since I am a virgin?” The tense of the verb she uses is future indicative, which looks forward to an act that is completed in the future.
That’s a little hard to get our minds around, isn’t it? An act that is done, accomplished, fini… in the future!
Do you remember last week, when we looked at the Greek word we translate as hope? Elpis, which means to look forward to something with confident expectation that it will happen. Well, this is the grammatical corollary to that word. The way Mary phrases this question assumes that although it hasn’t happened yet, it definitely will happen.
You see, Mary’s question “how will this be?” isn’t one of doubt — she fully believes the angel’s words. Her question is simply one of wonder and curiosity.
“How — HOW — will this be?”
The angel answers: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the baby to be born will be holy, and he will be called the Son of God. What’s more, your relative Elizabeth has become pregnant in her old age! People used to say she was barren, but she has conceived a son and is now in her sixth month. For the word of God will never fail.”
Can you imagine the thoughts running through Mary’s head in this incredible moment?
She must have wondered what her family would say. Would they believe her when she told them that her child was divinely conceived?
What would Joseph do? Would he throw her aside? He certainly had that right! What would her life be like when the angel’s promise came true?
She must have wondered why she had been chosen, out of all the women in Israel. Mary is poor, unmarried, from an obscure village and a common lineage. Why not choose someone married? Why not someone among the religious leaders of the time? Why not someone more powerful, more wealthy, more connected? Why her?
She must have experienced some pangs of anxiety about the pregnancy itself. She was so young. Growing up in a small village, she would have seen what pregnancy does to a woman. She would have been there beside family and friends who were pregnant. This wasn’t something she expected to have to deal with at this point in her life.
And note that the angel gives Mary no assurance that these obstacles would be swept away from her path. Not one.
But as all of these thoughts — and surely many more — race through her head, Mary responds with the most amazing, simple statement:
“I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.”
Her acceptance of the angel’s promise was not a small act of faith. “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God,” the angel had said.
You have found favor with God. And yet Mary knows that this favor will likely result in serious difficulties in her near and distant future.
But she trusts her God. She knows that God has been faithful in the past, and will be faithful to her, as well. She knows what an honor it is to bear the child who will grow to save the world, to hold in her womb the long-awaited Messiah. Because of this, her heart is full of God’s peace.
It is God’s peace — shalom — that makes the birth of Jesus possible.
It is God’s peace — shalom — that makes it possible for Mary to say yes to the angel and to God’s promise. She knows at her core who she is. And she knows who her God is: a God of love and grace, a God of power and possibility, a God of endless creativity and compassion. And so she says yes.
It is God’s peace — shalom — that comes into the world on that first Christmas morning, bringing the hope of redemption and healing.
It is God’s peace — shalom — that makes it possible, just three decades later, for Jesus, at the end of his life, to sit with his friends around a borrowed room and to share a meal that would be a gift to them for all time.
It is only because Jesus was whole, complete, divine and human joined together with perfect love — it is only because of this peace that Jesus could offer himself so fully.
Like his mother Mary years before, he could face what he knew was coming and give himself over to his Father God’s will. As he prepared to give himself up for his followers, he gave them an amazing promise:
“I am leaving you with a gift — peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid. Remember what I told you: I am going away, but I will come back to you again. If you really loved me, you would be happy that I am going to the Father, who is greater than I am. I have told you these things before they happen so that when they do happen, you will believe.”
May we all this Advent season, like Mary, proclaim with God’s shalom, God’s peace in our hearts:
“I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said… come true.”