Community Church Sermons
Year C
December 9, 2012
The Second Sunday of
Advent
Joy to the Earth
Luke
1:68-79
Rev. Rhonda
A. Blevins
Associate
Pastor
By the
tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.
(vv. 78-79 NRSV)
This beautiful
prose is traditionally called The Benedictus, after
the first word of the song in Latin. “Blessed” is the word we use in English.
This is
Zechariah’s Song. You may remember old Zechariah. He was a temple priest
married to a lady named Elizabeth. The two of them were getting along in years,
and to their great sadness, they were unable to have children. But one day,
Zechariah—while performing his solitary duties at the temple—had an encounter
with the Divine. There in the temple the Angel Gabriel appeared to him, and
told him his wife would give birth to a son—a son who would be important in the
sight of God—the forerunner of the Messiah.
Now, if you’re
ever in the temple and the Angel Gabriel appears to you and tells you
something, just a word to the wise, here’s what you should say. “Yes, sir, Angel, sir. Whatever you say,
Angel sir.”
Unfortunately,
old Zechariah didn’t get that memo. Instead, Zechariah’s response was more
like, “You’re one crazy Angel, you know that? My wife give birth? Have you seen how old she is? Put it this
way: when God said, “Let there be light?” She was there to flick the switch if
you know what I mean.”
That was about
the moment when Gabriel struck him mute. Shut him up for about nine months. Left him literally speechless.
Now, that may
seem quite a hefty punishment for just a little bit of doubt. But I wonder if
being stricken voiceless was as much gift as punishment?
·
I wonder if he listened to his spouse
a little more.
·
I wonder if he became a little less
enamored with his own opinions.
·
I wonder if he shifted his brain power
from pontificating to understanding.
Oh, for a world where
people talked less and listened more. I think it would be a fun study! We’ll
call it the Zechariah experiment. Or maybe instead of 40 Days of Thanks like we
just did, we’ll call it 9 Months of Silence! Who wants to sign up? Anybody want
to sign your spouse up?
I’ve never gone
very long without talking, no surprise there. But I have kept secrets. The
hardest secret I ever kept was my own. You see, unlike Zechariah and Elizabeth,
it’s usually the woman who finds out about a baby on the way before the man. I
found out about a baby on the way two weeks before my husband’s birthday. This
was something we wanted and planned for, and I knew he would be overjoyed with
the news. I thought it would make it that much more special to find out on a
birthday—but not just any birthday—his 40th birthday. Those were the
longest two weeks of my life. But I did it. And when his
birthday came, and he read the message on his big cookie, “Happy Birthday.
You’re going to be a Daddy,” I could barely contain myself. The joy erupted out
of me. Like walking out of a prison cell into freedom, sharing my secret felt
more like singing a song at the top of my lungs.
So nine months
later Zechariah and Elizabeth return to the temple for the circumcision of
their 8-day-old baby boy. Zechariah is still mute, so he has to write the
baby’s name on a tablet. And bam! Right there in the same place where Zechariah
lost his voice, it comes back. His words are words of praise to God. After 9 months of silence, joy bursts forth
into song—Zechariah’s song. The Benedictus:
By the
tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.
Have you ever
experienced so much joy that you could barely contain it? For me it was two
weeks, for Zechariah it was nine months. And when the silence is broken, it’s
as if the whole creation joins you to share the good news. Joy bursts forth into
song. That must have been what Sir Isaac Watts had in mind when he penned the
second verse of Joy to the World.
Would you sing it with me?
Joy to the earth! The Savior reigns;
let me their songs employ;
while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains
repeat the sounding joy, repeat the sounding joy,
repeat, repeat the sounding joy.
Even the fields,
the floods, the rocks, the hills, the plains cannot contain the joy experienced
at the coming of the Messiah. Joy to the earth!
But we need to
stop for a moment. If the only reason Jesus came was to elicit feelings of joy
in us, then he’s just a narcotic. If Jesus’ purpose in our lives is simply to
make us happy, then Karl Marx was right, and religion—Christianity—is indeed
just the opiate of the masses.
So let us not
miss the crux of Zechariah’s song. Even though the emotion behind the song is
joy, the song is not about a feeling. It is about a healing. The
healing of our nations. The healing of our planet.
The healing of our selves.
By the
tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.
Even though
Zechariah’s song—The Benedictus—is named for the
first word in the song, it is the final word that captures its essence. Peace.
God’s shalom. God’s shalom which ushers in healing in the
way of peace, wellness, and wholeness in the context of right relationships
with people, with nature, and with the Divine.[1]
Peace. It’s the same word the angels
will use in a couple of weeks when they tell the shepherds,
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will
toward men.
Luke 2:14
Joy to the earth! Why? Not because it makes us feel good, but
because the kingdom of God is the kingdom of peace, the kingdom of shalom.
Creation yearns for this kingdom. Joy
to the earth, the savior reigns! Long live the king, the author of peace!
God is the author of peace; we are the scribes. We are the
ones who must translate God’s peace for the world to understand. This is the
work of advent. Last week, I asked you if there was room in your heart for
hope. This week I ask you, is there room in your hands for peace?
It’s easy to speak peace to those who speak your language.
The difficult part of being the scribe of peace is to find a way to offer peace
to those who speak a different language. In the scriptures, the enemies written
of are national foes, enemies of the state, so to speak. The work of advent is
to promote peace internationally. To pray for peace in the
world. To encourage our leaders to work tirelessly for
the cause of peace around the world.
But we have many enemies
closer to home, don’t we? In fact, perhaps our greatest enemy is the person who
looks back at us in the mirror every day. Have you been kind to yourself
lately? You are God’s dwelling place you know. The work of advent is to promote
peace internally as well as internationally. To pray for
peace within. To foster peace with others, with
nature, and with God.
[1] Enoch Wan, “’Mission’ and Missio Dei” in MissionShift: Global Mission Issues in the Third
Millennium, ed. David J. Hesselgrave, and Ed Stetzer (Nashville: B&H
Publishing Group, 2010), 46.
God is the author of peace; you are the scribe. How will you
write God’s peace into the world this week?
Break
upon us, dawn from on high!
Help us become your light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow
of death,
Guide our feet into the way of peace with people, with nature,
and with your Divine Presence within.
Amen.