December 24, 2023
Advent 4
Friends,
Many years ago, I was given a cup that was given to my grandfather at the time of his birth in anticipation of his baptism. I have since passed the cup on to my grandson, Calum, Bedstepapa’s great-great-grandson. The cup had been repaired at the handle with a band of silver as was the custom a long time ago. On the outside, it bears the legend, in Norwegian, “Snil Gut”. When I was a kid, the received meaning –I don’t remember where-from– was “good boy” and I never gave it another thought.
When I was turning it over in my hand a couple of years ago, a lifetime on, I realized that the translation I’d been given was wrong. It wasn’t “good boy”. It was “kind boy”. The hope attached to my grandfather’s birth and baptism was not goodness but kindness. Kindness is other-directed and only self-directed by exception. Kind boy. In baptism we are invited to take on the likeness of the most kind.
“… To be converted in the way that Advent preaches is to be entirely unmade by the Lord of the Cosmos and all the heavenly powers, only to be remade again in the likeness of the most kind.”
With these words, our rector urged us into our Advent journey. And with these words, in these moments, we conclude our Advent journey for tonight, this very night, it is Christmas. And we are invited to contemplate our being remade in the likeness of the most kind. But what is the likeness of the most kind? What sort of kindness might we expect this night.
The kindness of a mother giving birth?
The kindness of someone midwifing the Holy Child into this world? …catching the baby?
The kindness of a child without guile or reason?
The kindness of an innkeeper affording the warmth, the bed of straw, and the privacy of his stable?
The kindness of the Ox yielding his feed-trough to the Holy Child?
The kindness of a jenny donkey nuzzling close to share her warmth?
The kindness of a father claiming someone not his own?
The kindness of a husband affording a child his lineage –the House of David?
The kindness of shepherds come-to-see and making something of the night?
Yes. Yes. Yes. All of these.
I want to tease out three images in particular for us to carry into this night and beyond. Three things worthy of note. Three things worth pondering in our hearts. I want to have us mark the gift of Mary, the birth of Jesus, and the character of Joseph.
The gift of Mary has a multiple senses, doesn’t it? We are at once in touch with Mary being the gift, and Mary bearing the gift, Jesus. When we think of Mary being the gift, we are contemplating the gift of Mary’s womb, a place of nurture and promise for Jesus, a place where Jesus gets to listen to motherly conversations and the sounds of singing, and music, “My soul renders great, the Holy One, and my whole being rejoices…”
But we are also contemplating the gift of childbirth itself, with all of the pain and muck and un-certainty attached to a first-born, born on the road away from home, born in a stable –the best place at an inn for warmth and seclusion.
So, the gift is Mary and is of Mary. And Mary is to us an example, an exemplar of the most kind. Mary is kindness. Mary’s gift of herself is kindness of the most extreme and sincere sort and she will bear kindness of kindness, Jesus. Now, Jesus wasn’t always kind. He was truly human, after all, and sometimes lawyers and the thankless got under his skin. But love your God and love your neighbour was his motto and for a world of such a fabric he strove even to giving his life. So tonight, we celebrate the gift of Mary, she who is gift and harbours gift.
And we celebrate the birth of Jesus in whom one and all are “entirely unmade by the Keeper of the Cosmos and all heavenly powers, only to be remade in the likeness of the most kind.” Kindness of kindness. We celebrate the gift of Mary and the birth of Jesus, but there was another piece, wasn’t there? We celebrate the character of Joseph.
The character of Joseph refers at once to his whole person, as in a character in a play, but it also alludes to what sort of character is this character. The character of Joseph refers to his whole person but also to what sort of character the character is.
In most Orthodox iconography featuring the Holy Family, Joseph is pictured variously depressed, his head cradled in the palm of his hand, as if the whole universe had just imploded, or drifting off to sleep, seemingly oblivious to the drama. He looks tired. And he looks old. And one could be forgiven for overlooking this character as peripheral to the drama, for after all, he was not one of the main characters. The shepherds and magi all got higher billing and more lines than Joseph.
Moreover, if you pay attention to the Scriptures, you come to realize that Joseph disappears from view entirely and when all is said and almost done: Joseph is gone, and Mary is commended to the care of John while John is commended to the care of Mary. There is no Joseph.
If we’re going to treat lovingly this story of Mary and Joseph and the infant Jesus, we should note that the first hearers of this story probably didn’t immediately think of Mary and Joseph as a couple of impulsive teenagers. This is not Romeo and Juliette. Oh, Mary would have been conjured as a young woman, early teens, as was the time, but Joseph, not likely so. He would have been conjured as older, maybe 20 or 21. Closing in on the life expectancy of the time, somewhere in the 30’s. This Joseph is more a protector figure than kid next door. These aren’t kids on elopement. It just wasn’t that kind of picture.
Joseph, at this juncture likely didn’t know Mary well. Falling in love before marriage, that’s a modern luxury. And not even among all moderns. Joseph might well have been Mary’s protector at first, and only later a lover in the fullest sense of that word, and the father of Jesus’ brothers and sisters. But as people died young, Joseph is gone before Jesus is gone.
So tonight, I invite us to celebrate the character of Joseph, with just a little regard, the man and the measure of the man. Carpenter by trade, protector, adoptive father by choice, of the House of David, husband, and lover at length.
Tonight, if you will, I would have you anticipate the gift of Mary, in all her fullness, the character of Joseph in all his fullness and the birth of Jesus, kindness, incarnate kindness. They are all of kindness, incarnate kindness.
Blessed Advent. Merry Christmas.
Silence
May the words of my lips and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in God’s sight. And may the church say “Amen.” R/ Amen.
André Lavergne CWA (The Rev.)
Honourary Assistant,
Church of St. John the Evangelist, Kitchener