Expectations

Homily for the 4th Sunday of Advent

In the holiday classic, “The Bishop’s Wife,” Dudley, an angel sent to assist a struggling, newly-appointed bishop, helps a blind man cross the street by simply raising his hand and stopping the traffic. The blind man cannot see what is happening. He simply feels protected and secure as the angel guides him across the street. Once they cross the street, the blind man thanks Dudley and tells him that he is on the way to see his eye doctor.  “You see, I have expectations,” he says to the angel whom he cannot see.

If one word can sum up the season of Advent, it is the word “expectation.” At this time of the year, almost all of us have some expectations about the forthcoming celebration. Some of us are expecting to see our family. Others are expecting a certain gift for which we have been hoping. At the very least, most of us are looking forward to a pleasant day. Unfortunately, for some the day will bring some heartache because it is the first Christmas without a certain loved one or because their son or daughter is serving abroad.

The Scriptures that are chosen for today’s liturgy, particularly the reading from the prophet Micah, speak to us of the expectations that the children of Israel had about the promised Messiah. Micah proclaims that salvation will come from an insignificant village rather than from the royal city. Rather than being a mighty ruler with a powerful army, his power will come from God. In addition, a time of trial will be followed by a time of security and peace. The prophet explains that this message can be trusted because it has come directly from God.

The insignificant village was Bethlehem of Ephrathah. There were at least two Bethlehems in Israel so the prophet is specific about which of the two he meant. The Bethlehem to which he refers is of the clan of Caleb and located in Judah. Because it is the place of David’s origin, the reference is rich in early royal importance that is quite distinct from any association with Jerusalem, the dynastic capital of the reigning royal family. The ruler promised is not to be understood as the successive Davidic king but a new Davidic king, fresh and totally committed to God as the young David had been. Bethlehem means “house of bread” and Ephrathah means “field of fruit.” It was not militarily significant, in contrast to Jerusalem, but it represented fruitfulness. We look back at this oracle and realize that the king it produced was far more fruitful than any king of Israel had ever known.

This new ruler will be called forth for God and strengthened by God to rule. The image used to depict his rule is that of a shepherd who leads, protects, and provides for those in his care. Again, as we look back at this characterization, we realize that for those who accept Jesus as king, he was and is indeed a leader, a protector, and someone who provides for our daily needs.

The oracle also speaks of a time of trial, or distress. The very familiar allusion to labor pains and childbirth reminds us that the joy of new life, of realizing life with God, is preceded by a time of suffering. This process reflects the struggle involved in letting go of one form of existence in order to emerge into a new one. Despite the agony, once the tribulation of birth is over, the joy of new life blots out the pain involved in delivery. Every mother understands this part of the oracle.

The joy of new life is very present in our Gospel reading for today as the greeting of Mary causes a profound effect on the child in Elizabeth’s womb. The child is said to leap for joy. The description is reminiscent of the joy that filled David as he leaped before the Ark of the Covenant, the symbol of God in the midst of the people. Elizabeth’s response to this movement within her body is a proclamation of faith that God has indeed fulfilled his promise in the child that Mary was carrying. The joy comes from the realization of being in the presence of God. Mary is the new Ark and the child within her is the glory of God. In joy, then, Elizabeth sings of the blessedness they both possess, a blessedness derived from the dignity of this child to whom Elizabeth refers as her Lord.

Today we stand before this mystery and proclaim our own experience as blessed as we realize that God is in our midst just as surely as God was present in the hill country of Judah when Mary visited her cousin Elizabeth. The joy that they experienced can be ours if we allow the Lord to take possession of our lives after the example of Elizabeth and Mary. Our expectations, like the expectations of the children of Israel, are for a life spent with God for all eternity.