Our Sunday Message

Living Out the Not Quite Yet: Luke 1:39-45, 56
Rev. Dr. Kenneth A. Corr
December 24, 2006
Fourth Sunday of Advent

   Frederick Buechner, the Presbyterian preacher and author, once wrote, “It is Advent: the time just before the adventure begins, when everyone is leaning forward. . .”1 That is certainly the way it feels today on Christmas eve.
    The candles are all lit.
    The presents are all bought, wrapped, and placed under the tree.
    The turkey is ready to bake and the pecan pie is in the refrigerator.
    The family has arrived and Santa is on the way.
  And here we are, leaning forward, waiting for the adventure to begin. So hurry up and finish this sermon!
  But wait. It’s Advent and we are waiting. Like the children waiting for this sermon to end, waiting is one of the hardest things that we do.
  The lab results are not back yet. You must wait. Please call back next week.
  The earliest appointment I can get you is the first of February. Should I schedule it?
  The package was shipped on time. It should arrive soon. That’s all I can tell you.
New job openings will be released some time after the first of the year. We will call you. Please don’t call us.
  Test scores will be posted when they are recorded. It’s not something that we can hurry. You will just have to wait.
  Advent is our annual reminder that we are living in the not quite yet. Advent is our annual reminder that this is not all there is. Advent is our annual reminder that life is moving towards God’s ultimate purpose. And we so wait with sweet anticipation, heightened expectation, restless excitement, anxious longing, and pregnant hope. We wait leaning forward. But that is hard because waiting means living with uncertainty. Uncertainty means not knowing. Not knowing means not controlling.
  “The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness comprehended it not.” What the darkness cannot abide is the inability to comprehend, understand, know and control the light. “Tell me your name,” Moses said to the voice in the burning bush. “Give me your name,” Jacob said to the angel with whom he had wrestled all night. To name is to know and to know is to control. When the doctor is able to diagnose and name the disease, we somehow feel better, even if there is no cure. Naming is knowing and knowing is control.
  Waiting without knowing, waiting in uncertainty, waiting with mystery, is the hardest thing that we do. And that is exactly what faith calls us to do. Faith is the ability to wait with hope while we live in the not quite yet. That is what Mary models for us in this story. “Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what the Lord said to her.” What does Mary teach us about living in the not quite yet?
  Some years ago, I was trying to preach on this text and I admitted to Denise that it was hard and she said, “Of course it’s not easy for you. You’re a man.” I protest. I recognize that the male voice is silent in this text. Zacharias is sitting in time out because he did not believe the angel’s report. There is no word about Joseph. We can assume that he is still trying to decide what to do about Mary. It was probably a good time for Mary to be away. We don’t get to hear the masculine perspective on this story. But this is not just a woman’s story. It is a story for all of us, but it requires a different way of reading the text.
  This story requires a kind of undemanding, uncritical, unstructured, reflective, contemplative, spiritual approach that is open and not judging. The story illustrates something about what it means for us to wait in the not quite yet.
  The story begins “in those days.” “In those days,” Elizabeth was six months pregnant. She had spent the first five months of her pregnancy in seclusion. Pregnancy, at her age, was something too wonderful to have to talk about and she knew that she was being talked about. So she went into a time of seclusion. But now, she was out of seclusion ready to face the scandalous inquiries and looks and beginning to show.
Mary came in “haste.” My guess is that she could not get there fast enough. We don’t know a lot about the relationship between these two women, but it was obviously very special. The Bible never mentions Mary’s parents. My guess is that Elizabeth was more than a cousin, something more like a surrogate mother.
  Cousin Elizabeth was pregnant! What was going through Mary’s mind? All these years, her barrenness had been the family scandal. And now this! It was too amazing to be true. How would Mary tell Elizabeth about her own pregnancy? What would Elizabeth believe about her incredulous story? Would Elizabeth share her joy or would she judge her like Joseph had done? What kind of advice would Elizabeth offer about being pregnant? There had to be so many questions, so much uncertainty. It is easy to see why Mary could not get there fast enough.
  “Hello. Is anybody home?” We don’t know what Mary expected, but certainly, she never expected what happened next. “When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud cry, ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me?”
  Nothing else had to be said. They both knew the unknowable, the unexplainable, the incomprehensible. They were a part of mystery. And Elizabeth said, “And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.”
  Mary remained three more months. That means that she stayed until the end of the pregnancy. She was there when Elizabeth gave birth to John. Belief did not mean that life would be easy for Mary. Elizabeth was not there for her when she gave birth in that stable. We don’t know if Elizabeth lived to see it, but we do know that Mary lived to see both of these boys executed and buried. How horrible!
  What does this story teach us about our lives of waiting? Mary models for us a kind of waiting while we live in the not quite yet. It is Advent and we are waiting for the adventure to begin, leaning forward.
  This morning we are waiting for cures for AIDS, Alzheimer’s, cancer, heart disease, kidney disease, diabetes, and sickle cell. We are waiting for politicians who are not ethically compromised, but will lead from integrity and with justice. We are waiting for the kind of radical racial reconciliation that allows us to live together in peace in a truly multicultural, multiethnic, multireligious world. We are waiting for non-violent solutions to the international problems that plague our world.
  We are waiting, but not in despair, not in cynicism, not throwing our hands up in frustration. We are waiting in hope.
  Last month, we heard Dr. Tim McCall talk about the tragic civil war that is going on today in Uganda and the children that are being kidnapped and traumatized. It is a horrific story.
  But what Dr. McCall told us was not how perplexing the problems are but about the hope-filled future that awaits the people of Uganda. He told about the community center and the medical clinic and the educational site where the children will be educated and learn to live in peace.
  Look at your life. What do you see? We are waiting.
  “And blessed is (the one) who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken by the Lord.”
  “It is Advent: the time just before the adventure begins, when everyone is leaning forward. . .”2

1 Frederick Buechner, quoted in, A Guide To Prayer For All Who Seek God, p. 37.
2 Frederick Buechner, quoted in, A Guide To Prayer For All Who Seek God, p. 37.