Readings for the Fourth Sunday of Advent (Year B)
This sermon was preached at Christ Episcopal Church Eureka on Sunday December 23, 2018.
My heart shall sing of the day you bring.
Let the fires of your justice burn.
Wipe away all tears,
For the dawn draws near,
And the world is about to turn.
Tomorrow evening, we will celebrate the feast for which we have been waiting expectantly and eagerly ever since the first Sunday of Advent, 22 days ago. Tomorrow, we will celebrate the birth of the Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. The dawn will appear and the world will turn, literally. Starting tomorrow, we will be able to notice a gradual increase in daylight. Although the winter solstice took place this last Friday, we don’t actually notice an increase in daylight until three days later, which is tomorrow. Solstice means “sun standing still” because the sun appears to be standing still for about three days. Of course, thanks to modern science, we know that the sun is essentially always standing still, at least in relation to the earth which revolves around it. However, even with this knowledge, haven’t we all still experienced much longer nights these past few weeks? And doesn’t it kind of feel like the sun has been slowly receding and fading away, even dying? Just imagine what these days must have felt like to our ancient ancestors; this season of coldness and death and darkness, which was increasing every day. We know that our ancient ancestors who lived in this Northern Hemisphere experienced this season of increased darkness with great anxiety and fear. Many of them were actually deeply concerned that the sun would eventually disappear completely, which would mean the end of the world. This is partly why we have apocalyptic readings from Scripture, readings about the apparent end of the world, during this season of Advent. In many ancient cultures, rituals were enacted and sacrifices were made in order to try to bring back the sun or help give birth to a new sun. This may sound absurd to us today, but just imagine what these dark days must have felt like to our ancient ancestors. They were terrifying.
And this fear of the end of the world persists today. In fact, this year, because winter solstice coincided with a full moon and a meteor shower, there were once again predictions about the end of the world, just as there were back in 2012 at the end of the Mayan calendar, which ended on winter solstice. It is in our human DNA to fear the end of the world at this time of year.
So when these long dark nights eventually stop growing in length and start to actually diminish a bit as the daylight increases, humans throughout history become overjoyed and enraptured with great hope, which grows every day along with the light. This time of year (soon after the winter solstice) has always been a season of joy and hope for humans living in the Northern Hemisphere. The pagans celebrated the winter solstice as the birthday of the unconquered sun, the sun which resists the conquest of the darkness. So when the church decided to celebrate the great feast of Christ’s Nativity at this time of year, it was not because the church believed Jesus was actually born on December 25th (we don’t actually know when Jesus was born) and it was not because the church wanted to imitate the pagans because the church had no original ideas (as many critics of the church like to pompously suggest). Rather, it was because the church, in her great wisdom, knew that Jesus Christ was the perfect fulfillment of that human longing for light and hope in the midst of ever-increasing darkness and despair. The church knew that Jesus Christ was the truly Unconquered Son.
Although we today might not feel that same primal fear that our ancient ancestors did during this season of long nights, we all still feel a sense (don’t we?) that our world has indeed been shrouded in some sinister darkness. Doesn’t it feel like things have been falling apart? Like the center cannot hold? Like those apocalyptic words of the Irish poet William Butler Yeats are ringing more true today than ever when he said, “The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere / the ceremony of innocence is drowned; / The best lack all conviction, while the worst / Are full of passionate intensity”? “Surely some revelation is at hand…”
The Christmas message is that in the midst of overwhelming and ever-increasing darkness and chaos, God not only gives us the light of the sun to restore our hope, but God also gives us the light of his Son, Jesus Christ, who is the perfect fulfillment of all human longing for hope and life and love.
It was this promise of light in the midst of darkness that made baby John the Baptist leap within his mother’s womb and it was Mary’s fierce trust in this promise of light that made her cousin Elizabeth say, “Blessed is she who believes in God’s promise.” German theologian Romano Guardini said, “If anything voices Mary’s greatness, it is this cry of her cousin Elizabeth”: Blessed is she who believes in God’s promise of light in the midst of darkness. It was this belief in God’s promise of light that inspired Mary to compose and sing those beautiful words of the Magnificat: “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my Savior. He has shown me favor according to the promise he made.” And it was this promise of light in the midst of darkness that inspired the Irish Catholic musician Rory Cooney to expand on these words of the Magnificat in a song titled the Canticle of the Turning. I invite you to listen to these poetic words inspired by the Magnificat and let the seeds of hope inherent in them grow within you today and in the days to come, just as the light of the sun grows outside and as the light of the Unconquerable Son Jesus Christ grows within your heart.
My soul cries out with a joyful shout
that the God of my heart is great,
And my spirit sings of the wondrous things
that you bring to the one who waits.
…
Though I am small, my God, my all,
you work great things in me.
And your mercy will last from the depths of the past
to the end of the age to be.
Your very name puts the proud to shame,
and those who would for you yearn,
You will show your might, put the strong to flight,
for the world is about to turn.
From the halls of power to the fortress tower,
not a stone will be left on stone.
Let the king beware for your justice tears
every tyrant from his throne.
The hungry poor shall weep no more,
for the food they can never earn;
These are tables spread, ev’ry mouth be fed,
for the world is about to turn.
Though the nations rage from age to age,
we remember who holds us fast:
God’s mercy must deliver us
from the conqueror’s crushing grasp.
This saving word that our forbears heard
is the promise that holds us bound,
‘Til the spear and rod be crushed by God,
who is turning the world around.
My heart shall sing of the day you bring.
Let the fires of your justice burn.
Wipe away all tears,
For the dawn draws near,
And the world is about to turn.
DANIEL DeFOREST LONDON 