“In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the
hill country, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth.
When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting,
the child leaped in her womb.” –Luke 1:39-41
On this Sunday before Christmas, and in all these days
before Christmas, I am touched by the miracle of relationship. I am touched by
holy relationships, holy families, holy communities.
It starts with the touch of the gospels themselves. According to Matthew and Luke, the news of Jesus’s birth touches families first. The birth of Jesus is announced locally first.
For instance, today, when we hear the story according to Saint Luke, we hear who Mary visited when she learned she was pregnant. She went to visit someone in her extended family: her cousin, her relative, Elizabeth.
Like so many of us, cousin Elizabeth had had a hard time
getting pregnant. That experience had been so wrenching for her, and for her
husband, Zechariah, that Zechariah couldn’t even talk about it. He would be struck speechless, until the day
John was born. Then there would be some consternation about John’s name (surely
many couples know that situation!); Zechariah would not be able to speak until he
had named the child, John.
Such is just one example of the tangled difficulties of
relationships. This is just one example, from scripture, but we all know
others. Family homes can be difficult places. You have all heard my old joke
about families; it’s actually from my own cousin, who returned from time with
his own family one summer. And he asked, “Do you know the biggest oxymoron in
the world? The biggest self-contradiction around?” Then he said, “It is the
phrase, ‘family vacation.’”
Even this time of year, when the world plays out delightful
images of happiness and delight, everywhere we turn, we see that times can be
tough. Households are arguing, too; and pain and disappointment also raise
their anxious heads among us.
This is why I am touched, every year by this day, the Sunday
before Christmas. I see how Jesus appears, not just in the miracle of an
angel’s announcement, but in the miracle of community – in the miracle of
relationships – holy relationships.
Let’s start with Mary. Mary’s journey toward a holy birth is
much like the journey of each of us. We are familiar with her demure and deep
faith. When she learns that she is pregnant, she is afraid and perplexed. But
she finds the faith to reply, “Let it be. Let it be to me according to your
word.”
Her response is the response of so many women, generation
after generation in this world, all over the world. Even unexpectedly,
pregnancy happens; and it takes faith.
And this day is about Joseph, her husband. The gospel of
Matthew tells the story completely from his point of view. In Matthew’s version
of the story, the angel appears not to Mary but to Joseph. And talk about fear
and perplexity! Joseph, too, ends up having to have faith in something beyond
himself. He has to have faith in what is going on inside another person. That
is a miracle, too, to have faith in what is going on in another person.
And this day is about still another person in Mary’s circle
of family relationships: Elizabeth, the cousin of Mary. She is an extended
family member; and she, too, is familiar with the miracle of childbirth. She
adds her own story of patience and perplexity.
How does it happen? How does the miracle of life happen?
Well, it happens in all sorts of ways. In dreams. With angels. In the daylight,
in happiness. And at night, when we feel speechless and abandoned. But however
conception occurs, however it occurs, it is usually a miracle. Mothers,
fathers, lovers, know this. It’s a miracle.
The Sunday before Christmas, then, is about miracles. And these
miracles always develop out of relationships, family relationships, community
relationships. It is not just one woman who carries and bears the birth of
Jesus. It is a household, a wider family, a broader community. The incarnation occurs in community.
Each of us needs holy community. Today, what I want the
world to know, is that each of us needs holy community. Holy community is where
our husband or wife has faith in us. Holy community is where our lover has
faith in us. Holy community is where our confused cousin greets us. Holy
community is where someone we don’t even know, another baby in a womb, leaps
for joy at our presence.
And holy community is where we go when the world seems
violent and erratic. For instance, last weekend, after the horror of the school
shooting in Connecticut, another amazing and dramatic thing happened. It was
reported to some extent, but it would have been impossible to report on every
detail.
Last weekend, after the shooting, millions of people across
our country made their way to holy communities of faith. We journeyed to
mosques on Friday, to temples on Saturday, to churches on Sunday. We went to
these holy communities out of holy routine, for sure, but we also longed for
some word, for some presence, for some holy miracle that would remind us of
life even in the midst of death. We wanted to touch each other We needed to
touch life-giving community.
I was not scheduled to preach last Sunday, and I prayed for
local pastors and priests and ministers last weekend all over the world. Most
of their words will never be reported in the big time press. But their words
were where the action was last weekend. Every faithful pastor and minister was
leading and comforting a holy community. Personally, I was looking forward to
hearing my colleagues; I was needing to hear them! And I was not disappointed;
I was proud of them.
I salute every one of those unrecognized and faithful pastors
– and preachers and rabbis and imams—who gathered local holy community last
weekend. That kind of holy community takes time and patience and strength to
develop, and it is a miracle.
Finally, this Sunday before Christmas is also fun for me,
because today is a great example of our Cathedral holy community. On Christmas
Eve and Christmas Day, we will have all sorts of people here. We welcome
visitors –and I so like to do that!
But on this Sunday, most of the people here are regular
community members. This is like a homecoming Sunday. This is a bit like a
family reunion, our household dinner before all the rest of the people show up,
where we can hug each other. We’re missing some people, for sure, and we do
like all the guests who will show up later. But I am touched by something holy
and miraculous here now.
This is a holy day. This is a holy community. It began years
ago when God dared to touch the world. God chose to be real, to touch us, to
become incarnate. However, God did not touch only Mary. God touched, and
became, community. God became family and household member.
God became not just your child, but also your mother and
your father, your brother and your sister. God became your cousin and your
forgotten friend. God became that stranger who will be sitting beside you in
the next few days somewhere.
God is in those neighbors and strangers who are sitting
beside you right now. God is touching you in holy community. Today is the Feast
of Holy Community, and our souls magnify the Lord. Our spirits rejoice in God
our Savior.
AMEN.
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