Jesus’ Midwives

As you probably know, in the Episcopal Church we do not sing Christmas carols before Christmas. Advent is that important. Yet there is one of the most celebratory of Christmas hymns that for me inevitably comes to mind during Advent. And, although we will not sing it until our Christmas celebrations, maybe we might sneak in a consideration of just the words today. "Joy to the world, the Lord is come: let earth receive her king; let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing." Let every heart prepare him room. It’s a wonderful phrase and it speaks to our Advent calling. In this morning’s collect we prayed that Jesus might find within us a mansion prepared for his coming. Let every heart prepare him room. Let each of us, during this Advent season, heartfully prepare room in our lives, for the most wondrous guest whose arrival we so eagerly await.

The gospel reading for this fourth, this last, Sunday in Advent is about preparing room. It is the story of the Annunciation… the great archangel Gabriel’s annunciation, announcement, to Mary that she will be the bearer of Our Lord Jesus Christ. And Mary says, "yes", she will prepare room in her heart, in her life, for the baby who is to embody God’s will.

This image of preparing a room is a wonderful one for Advent. It challenges us to make a space in the obscene busyness of our lives, our homes, our hearts for the holy one. It reminds us to cherish the special gift of Christ’s birth by making special arrangements for his coming. We have yet a week to create hospitable hearts, to prepare him room in our lives.

Hang on to that image; remember that piece of our Advent calling. I do not want you to abandon it. We do need to prepare ourselves. "Joy to the world, the Lord is [coming]: let earth receive her king; let every heart prepare him room."

And yet this morning’s reading from the Second Book of the prophet Samuel prompted me to reconsider the role, the responsibility, that is ours during Advent and as Christmas comes. In the verses just before the portion of Second Samuel that was read this morning, King David has just defeated the Philistines and triumphantly brought the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. The ark is the very symbol of God’s presence with God’s people. For the early Hebrew people, the ark represented "God with us," not unlike Immanuel, "God with us." King David is concerned that the ark is being kept in a mere tent, and he resolves to "prepare a room," to build a wonderful edifice where the Lord, in the ark, may dwell. The Lord replies to David, "Are you the one to build me a house to live in?" Then in the passage we heard today, the prophet Nathan says to David, "the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house."

This passage is not about David or about what David can or should do. Just look at how many sentences begin with "I." That’s the Lord speaking. This passage is about what the Lord does. The Lord builds the house. The Lord builds the house where the Lord will dwell on earth. And, although the passage is complex and the syntax a bit obscure, it seems that David—and his offspring—are to be the house. David, and the faithful people of Israel, are to be the house where the Lord dwells on earth.

This suggests a somewhat different way of looking at the story of the annunciation. Mary certainly seems to be the main character in the story of the annunciation. The spotlight is on her. And it should be. If Mary had not accepted God’s plan for her, God only knows what would have happened to the world. But the annunciation story is not really primarily about Mary. It’s about God. It’s about God’s desire to come into the world. God desires to come physically into the world. God yearns to become a part of and redeem human life. So God sends Gabriel to announce the plan. Mary could have refused. But it’s God’s plan, not Mary’s. God, the Holy Spirit, conceives a son.

And Mary brings that Son into the world. Mary gives birth. That’s the part of the story where Mary is the main and indispensable character. Mary gives birth. Mary is the means by which Jesus physically comes into the world. This story isn’t about Mary preparing a room so that Jesus may come dwell with Mary. It is about Mary bringing Jesus into the world so that Jesus may dwell in the world. And if we are to look for a role for ourselves in this Advent and Christmas time, although we cannot take on Mary’s special role, perhaps we should think of ourselves less as hosts welcoming a guest at holiday time and more as midwives or Labor and Delivery nurses bringing this baby into the world. Our are the hands to hold and bear and bring Immanuel into this world today.

There is already room for him. We do not need to build or prepare a room. We don’t need to create emptiness or open space in our hearts and souls. It’s there. No matter how busy we are. The emptiness is there. Augustine (I think) said that we all have God shaped holes in our hearts, a God shaped empty space within us that can only be filled by God. From the very first beating of our hearts, the room is there for God. We just have to say, yes, to let God into our emptiness. It’s not about making room; it’s about bringing Jesus into the empty room that already exists.

And looking beyond ourselves… beyond the walls of our own hearts, our own homes, our own parish community… Out there in the world, we don’t need to work to develop a market share for a savior. We don’t need to create a need for Jesus in the world. We do not need to build or prepare a place for Jesus. The need, the space is there. Everywhere. Our role is to bring Jesus into that space. As midwives, or obstetricians, or nurses, we are to be the hands that bring, that offer, this baby, Jesus into the world.

Listen to this prayer by Abbe Michel Quoist. It is written, Quoist says, for that person who stands on the brink, at the transition point, the transformation point… someone who has just tasted, just experienced, the love of God, but who is looking ahead with some uncertainty towards the life of a really committed Christian. "I have loved you, Lord… I gave myself for you…" this person says, "What more do you want?"

The Lord replies:

My child, I want more for you and for the world.
Until now you have planned your actions, but I have no need of them.
You have asked for my approval, you have asked for my support,
You have wanted to interest me in your work.
[You have offered me room around your Christmas tree, we might add.]
But don’t you see, child, that you were reversing the roles?
I have watched you, I have seen your good will,
And I want more than you, now.
You will no longer do your own works, but the will of your Father in heaven.

Say "yes", my child.
I need your "yes" as I needed Mary’s "yes" to come to earth,
For it is I who must do your work,
It is I who must live in your family,
It is I who must be in your neighborhood, and not you.
For it is my look that penetrates, and not yours,
My words that carry weight, and not yours,
My life that transforms, and not yours,
Give all to me, abandon all to me.

I need your "yes" to be united with you and to come down to earth,
I need your "yes" to continue saving the world!

For us to say this "yes" is to take on this role of midwife, or physician, or nurse… for us to become the hands that bring Jesus into a world that deeply needs him.

In some Christian traditions there would now be an altar call. An invitation for those who wish to say "yes" to stand up and come forward and claim their role as Christ bearers to the world.

Or here’s another, more Episcopal, place to start for those who wish to be the means by which Jesus is born on earth. We cannot bring, or bear Jesus into our world unless we know him, who he is, what he offers, beyond thinking of him as a baby of rather vague and general promise. How well do you know Immanuel, God with us? How well do you know Jesus?

You must know him before you can offer him to a world that needs him. One way to come to know Jesus is in prayer, in our weekly corporate worship, but also in your daily, personal, passionate prayers. But it takes study, too. Seize and create every opportunity you can to learn and to teach about Jesus. So that you and those around you and the whole wide world may come to know what Jesus offers into the emptiness that is everywhere around us. If we know who Jesus is, what a joy it will be to sing out "yes" when he comes, and he is coming, to dwell with us.