December 21, 2008 at Saint Mark Church in Norman, OK
2 Samuel 7″ 1-5 8-12, 14-16 + Psalm 89 + Romans 16: 25-27 + Luke 1:26-38
I am not sure if it is totally the fault of our “television world” or if there are other factors at play, but there are few facts to contradict a claim that we have become a spectator people. Too many of our children watch sports and so too many are overweight, and that continues into adulthood. It is not just about sports, however. We have become a people who watch at the cost of action. Half of the people in this church watch what is going on and think that watching is what they came for. The hymnals stay in the pews, arms are folded, while they watch others at worship or withdraw into silent reflections as others lift their hearts and voices in the action of worship. We have watched the rich and powerful loot the retirement funds of people whose honest and hard work have made them rich and powerful. We have watched women and children become homeless while we rummage around for weapons of mass destruction, and we shake our heads helplessly in the face of genocide in foreign places whose names we cannot pronounce. The enormous complexity of a shrinking world that is always in our face not only leaves us sitting still but often sitting on our hands fearful and confused about what to do, so we just watch.
The consequence of this has a spiritual dimension which today’s Gospel subtly and quietly addresses. The spectator will know the story but not know what to do with it. The spectator will likely turn the story into a Christmas pageant, a move, or a wonderful painting to look at. It makes for an easy life, uncluttered by questions, demands, and expectations. The Gospel is not entertainment. It is not news like “Five Live” or “20-20” that we watch from an easy chair before supper. The Gospel is a call to action, a plan for life in the Kingdom of God.
Spectators will hear this Gospel and wonder what angels look like, how a woman might conceive by the power of the Holy Spirit. It is all very fine to build from this story a huge tradition and spirituality surrounding the Blessed Mother. But to stop there in wonder and admiration is to be like the disciples who stood on a hill and heard a voice say, “Why are you standing here looking up into the sky?” There is no point other than entertainment and pious admiration in standing in awe before the details of this story. At some point, at some time, every one of us must ask the question, “What does this mean?” “How am I different because of it?”
This is not just a story about the beginning of our salvation. It is our story. A virgin in Nazareth is not the only person who has been visited by an angel. A woman betrothed to a man named, Joseph is not the only person graced and favored by God. A woman named Mary is not the only person who has been afraid and faced with difficult, life-plan changing decisions. What is ultimately revealed to us in this Gospel is the mystery of how the Word takes Flesh every day. What is revealed here is the path of Spiritual conception: hearing a transcendent Word, struggling to understand it, and finally uniting our will to that Word. That Word awakens us to our identity – it speaks of who we are as God’s beloved and chosen. We began this liturgy with the words of the angel speaking to us and about us: The Lord is with you.
An eastern Bishop reflects upon our awakening to this wonder and suggests that we all have a “virgin point” within us. The secret center of our hearts, a deep sub conscious point that is walled up and unformed until God visits. It is the place where God meets each of us, a place to which only God has access, and when God enters that place, we are totally God’s own and alive only with the Spirit of God. We are not accustomed to thinking of ourselves this way, and we need to ponder a greeting that names us in this way. When willing to do so, a profound transformation takes place, a profound personal truth is realized. We are no longer physical and social beings struggling to promote and protect ourselves and provide for our children. We will know what it means to be sons and daughters of God. We will then be struggling to change physical and social reality to reflect our common innate dignity. Our little plans and self-centered ambitions will have to be integrated into a more comprehensive vision. It does not happen fast, and it does not happen without questions and more pondering. It does not happen without some fear. Playing it safe is a strong habit to break. Risking all is dangerous territory.
This is what this story is about my friends: you and me with a God who seeks access to that hidden place within us still to be formed into an image of God. This is what the annunciation is ultimately about: an annunciation that speaks of our identity and what God wishes us to become. What unfolds in this story is the suggestion that finally, after pondering we come to understand, and then with a courage that can come only from the Spirit, we consent to the Will of God and say “Yes” to a Spirit that will bring to life what is hidden deep within us from the beginning.
There are annunciations of one sort or another in each of our lives. Some of these result in great destinies undertaken unwillingly. Some of them result in a refusal or denial or perhaps in a teeth gritting reluctance. Some of them lead us embrace the radical agenda of a Gospel that insists that the meek will inherit everything and the powerful will come tumbling down. Either way, once we consent, we are no longer spectators.
There is a difficult truth here. Many would point to the privilege of Mary and in doing so, take themselves off the hook. Angelic visits are for special people after all, they think. I think otherwise because of Luke. Every life is visited by revelations and calls to commitment. We either agree reluctantly becoming joyless people cursed by our own call, or we turn away in weakness and say, “Not me.” Some would think that when this happens, God closes the gates and rescinds the offer. I think Luke tells us this story because God sends another angel and still waits for our understanding and our consent.