St Aiden’s
Thank you for the opportunity to share with you this advent
service.
The lectionary readings this morning from 2 Samuel and Luke
are very interesting; especially in the way that they can be connected. The key
connection is the word dwell. In Samuel God comes to dwell among us in an ark
and temple, in Luke he comes to dwell among in the person of Jesus.
Israel was a nomadic nation. They were always on the move
constantly in danger. They had no roots, no land, and no security. What they
did have was superficial and temporary. In this passage King David has finally
secured for the nation of Israel land, security and wealth. It is David’s
desire to offer God the same. After all an ark within which God dwelled could
be stolen, as it had been in the past. David wanted to build God a house, a
temple in which Yahweh could dwell.
It is interesting that we can have similar lives; constantly
living in fear of financial loss, placing our hope, our roots in superficial
things that can be taken away in an instant. We too seek security and ways in
which we can feel rooted. It is interesting that we seek to place God as an
object of our religion into our boxes, our buildings, restricting faith and
religion to a specific time, a specific place, and a specific ritual. It is
interesting that God should dwell in man-made structures. It is interesting
that the priority is to house our God where we are (God comes to us on our
terms) rather than ensuring we are where God is, among the poor and
dispossessed. It is interesting in the Christmas birth narratives, that Joseph
and Mary are homeless, nomadic, looking for a place to dwell for the birth of
Jesus.
The Hebrew word for dwell here is the word shakan which means ‘to no longer be a
nomad, to rest, reside’. It has resonance with the word abide as used in John
15 (the vine and branches passage), ‘abide in me and I will abide in you’. It
has a sense that we do not go in and out, away and towards, we abide, we remain,
we reside, we stay. In that there is a different kind of security and
stability. Faith becomes something more than just Sunday religion or temporal
belief that we seek to protect, housing God in our religious convictions,
creeds or doctrine. The Luke passage about the virgin birth is an example of
this point.
There is a legend that Mary was not the first young woman to
whom the angel came. But she was the first one to say yes. This legend would be
offensive to the Roman Catholic for upon this virgin narrative and other Marion
doctrines we have the Immaculate Conception, the perpetual virginity and the
bodily assumption of the virgin. In Protestant circles this offensive because
the very claim of divinity for Jesus and his status as the Son of God required
the literal historicity of the virgin birth stories not to mention the
doctrines around sin and atonement.
Luke writing this narrative around 58-63C.E. was writing in
a very specific context. Just like David, he was influenced by his context in
the way he formulated his understanding of his faith and his God. The first
writings we now have in our bibles came from the pen of the apostle Paul, a
companion of Luke. Luke, a gentile, would have been shaped by these writings
particularly as most biblical commentators agree; by Pauls view of the birth
narratives which were more about adoptionism i.e. God adopted Jesus into heaven
as God’s agent of salvation. Bear in mind the doctrine of the trinity was only
fully formulated by the 5th century C.E.
Incorporating half of the gospel of Mark into his narrative,
it was Luke’s task to show that Christianity, far from being subversive, was a
natural development within a recognised and respected Jewish religious
tradition. Christianity, Luke was asserting had simply grown past the Jewish
limits and had become a worldwide religion. A religion that would later under
the crusades justify murder and under apartheid justify racism. This is what
happens when religion or faith becomes something we house, dwelling in our
confounds and walls. It gets messy.
It is interesting that Christianity now understands God
dwelling in fullness in the person of Jesus, and through the Holy Spirit
dwelling in fullness in us as living temples.
In Luke, we have a heavenly host in the sky as a herald for
all to see the arrival of the Christ child. Simeon, the old priest, announces
that this child would be ‘a light for revelation to the Gentiles’ as well as
‘for glory to the people of Israel’ (Lk2:32). In the genealogy of this Jesus,
Luke traces the heritage not back to Abraham, the father of the Jewish nation
(as Matthew had done), but to Adam, the father of the entire human race. This
God, this faith is bigger than the temple David built to house Him in. He
dwells among humanity.
This faith we celebrate is bigger than we think, broader
than we think, more inclusive than we think. As Paul Tillich the theologian
said, He is the very ground of being.
From 'And it was good: reflections on beginnings' by Wheaton (1983)
Are you sure you mean -
but I'm unworthy -
I couldn't anyhow -
I'd be afraid. No, no,
it's inconceivable, you can't be asking me -
I know it's a great honour
but wouldn't it upset them all,
both our families?
They're very proper you see.
Do I have to answer now?
I don't want to say no -
its what every girl hopes for
even if she won't admit it.
Bit I can't commit myself to anything
this important without turning it over
in my mind for a while
and I should ask my parents
and I should ask my -
Let me have a few days to think it over.
Sorrowfully, although he was not surprised
to have it happen again,
the angel returned to heaven.