Second Sunday in Advent
Penelope Bridges
The story of Hannah is about a woman who is abused, persecuted, and falsely accused. This is a woman who is seeking reproductive justice. She is regarded as a second-class citizen because she has not produced a child. Her husband loves her dearly, but he doesn’t understand the depth of her grief; he doesn’t protect her from the abuse of his other wife; and he leaves her to seek a remedy from God on her own, as if this suffering has nothing to do with him.
To recap the story: Hannah was one of Elkanah’s two wives; she was the love of his life, but she had no children. The other wife had a number of children, which gave her social status, and she didn’t hesitate to taunt Hannah for being “barren”. Elkanah was clueless, telling her she should be happy because he loved her. In desperation Hannah turned to God. She went to the temple and prayed to God, speaking inaudibly of her pain and promising God that if she was given a son she would dedicate him to God. The priest saw her lips moving and assumed she was drunk, forcing Hannah to defend her right even to lament her situation.
This is an ancient story, but it resonates strongly with today’s culture, as we read stories of women being turned away from hospitals when they are in need of reproductive care; as we hear of women dying because treatment for pregnancy or miscarriage was refused; as we hear prominent national leaders imply that the only value of a woman is as a bearer and nurturer of children. The story of Scripture is our story.
Hannah is ultimately granted the blessing of a son, Samuel, and her experience prompts her to burst out in a song of resistance, exulting in God who alone is just and merciful, and calling down retribution on all those who would oppress and silence her. This is the song we read in place of the Psalm this morning. Hannah reminds us that when it seems like the whole world is against us, God is still in charge; that when we cannot trust any human source, we can trust in God to make all things new and to bring about the kingdom, in God’s own time. As Dr King wrote, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.”
It’s uncanny how these ancient writings of Scripture can take on renewed significance for us in our own time. In Mark’s Gospel, we are now in the last week of the earthly ministry of Jesus. He is at the great Temple in Jerusalem, a gigantic edifice, seemingly indestructible, the center of power for God’s chosen people. A Roman historian of the time described the temple complex as a mountain of white marble adorned with gold. In addition to the temple itself there were courtyards, balconies, breezeways, huge staircases. King Herod had built it as a monument to his own glory and wealth. The Jews believed that God resided in the holiest part of the Temple, abiding among God’s own people and watching over them. To suggest that it might be torn down must have sounded like blasphemy to the disciples. Do you hear a parallel to mighty edifices of American culture that have seemed indestructible to us, structures of power that are now wobbling dangerously on their foundations?
After predicting the fall of the Temple, Jesus goes on to describe an apocalypse, a time of chaos, confusion, and violence. He warns the disciples of those who claim to speak for God and whom many people will follow. He paints a frightening picture of war and natural disasters. Today’s conflicts in Sudan, the Middle East, and eastern Europe, coupled with the extreme weather generated by climate change, again offer a contemporary parallel to his words. Are we now living in the end times of democracy, of America’s global dominance, even of the earth’s ability to sustain life?
We can look at this Gospel from another angle, seeing the Temple as a metaphor for Christianity as it has evolved in our time. We are hearing some pastors proclaim that the teaching of Jesus, to love our neighbors and care for one another, is outdated; that Scripture justifies genocide and cruelty, that material wealth, and especially the wealth of the pastors themselves, is a sign of God’s favor. We are seeing people who call themselves Christians support leaders who demonstrate the very opposite of Christian behavior. We are seeing the younger generations fleeing from organized religion, in the belief that religious institutions are all centers of hypocrisy, homophobia, and corruption. We are seeing a weakening of commitment to the church, even by faithful people, as it becomes just another good cause to be donated to along with the Opera, the Zoo, and the ACLU. Is the Church about to be thrown down, stone upon stone?
It is hard to read this Gospel today and NOT feel like the end times are upon us. And what if they are? What is our response to be? We are not called to despair, or to give up doing justice and loving mercy. We are not called to buy into the violent rhetoric that is being used in the media. We are not called to answer lies with lies or contempt with contempt. Structures may fall, whether physical, cultural, or political; but our baptismal promises remain the same, and God is still among us. The resurrection assures us that death is never the end of the story. The birth pangs of something new may be agonizing and take longer than we want to contemplate, but God will bring new life out of what seems dead or dying. We can continue doing what we have been called to: we will nurture this cathedral community of love and inclusion; we will work together to relieve the suffering of those who are in need; we will proclaim the Gospel by word and deed; and we will continue to tell the world that God is love and that there is room for everyone in the Kingdom.
It can be hard to maintain confidence in a future we cannot see, especially when we are still dealing with grief and fear. But we can put our trust in the God who loves us. We are still here, and our mission to Love Christ, Serve Others, and Welcome All remains our guiding light.
The letter to the Hebrews exhorts us,
“Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful. And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.”
The promise of this Advent season is the promise that the day of salvation will come; that we will indeed see the Son of Man coming in glory; that temples may be toppled and heaven and earth may pass away, but God’s promises will be fulfilled. Our King and Savior now draws near: come, let us adore him.
Amen.
