“How does a weary world rejoice?”
The question for our Advent is as honest as it is challenging, looming large over heart, body, mind, soul, and spirit: How does a weary world rejoice, when everything in and around feels like it’s coming apart at the seams and flying off the rails?
It’s a confusing paradox of faith: God designs joy to abide faithfully in a house filled to the rafters with raw emotion, dashed hopes, and shattered dreams. By heaven’s grace, thrills of hope enter Creation’s brokenness to disturb our grief, rage, weariness, and hopelessness, and suddenly, a weary world really does find reason to rejoice.
The next line of the familiar carol explains why: “For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!” The first rays of that new day’s dawning begin to pierce our darkness only if and when we name our weariness.
And so it was last Sunday for Elizabeth and Zechariah, the long-suffering, childless couple who receive jaw-dropping word that Elizabeth will bear a son.
Atop that astonishing news, the angel Gabriel further announces that this child will prepare the way of the Lord. Thanks be to God, a new and glorious morning lies just below the horizon in the coming birth of Jesus.
As we re-enter the story this morning, the angel Gabriel again swoops down with more news of unexpected pregnancy. This time around, a teenage girl, Mary, discovers that she is God’s favored one – full of grace, “the Lord with thee.” Blessed among women, and “blessed is the fruit of thy womb”
Let a refrain of song quicken your attention to the advent of God’s Good News:
Listen to the word that God has spoken; listen to the One who is close at hand.
Listen to the voice that began creation; listen even if you don’t understand.
In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David.
The virgin’s name was Mary. And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.
And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”
Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.” Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.
In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.” (Luke 1:26-45)
When you’re weary, expressing joy is hard.
That, in turn, makes sharing space with others a heavy lift, because your weariness saps your joy, and you have no inclination to join the heavenly hosts in singing fa-la-la-la-la.
Sure, you can be joy-filled all by your lonesome, but the thing that gives joy its true delight is sharing the joy of the moment with another. Meaningful connection outside yourself magnifies exponentially the joy you experience within.
Joy is fundamentally rooted in connection, but those ties that bind expand beyond mere human relationship. Joy arises through feelings of deep connection to ourselves and our loved ones, to God and to nature, and to the whole cosmos that spins and swirls all around us. Shared joy thus provides another reason for a weary world to rejoice, and the uniting of Elizabeth and Mary offers but one example of that truth.
Elizabeth has spent five months in seclusion. Luke doesn’t explain why, so speculation is the best we can do. Perhaps Elizabeth’s isolation rises for the same reason that Zechariah is silenced. She, too, must be asking is disbelief, “Year after disappointing year we’ve wanted children, but a baby never arrives. And now, long past my years of child-bearing, NOW I am pregnant?”
The shame of Elizabeth’s barren womb delivers only weariness. So, just exactly how is she supposed to rejoice?
Though we hear not her agonizing, we nonetheless hear her resolve to move forward in faith, even if she doesn’t fully understand: “This is what the Lord has done for me, when he looked favorably on me, and took away the disgrace of childlessness that I have endured among my people.”
Into Elizabeth’s maternal weariness steps Mary.
She undertakes a long, arduous journey to seek clarity and understanding about her own encounter with the Gabriel. Mary questions the angel – wondering how this can be, because she is a virgin, but we hear nothing of her pondering while on the road to Elizabeth’s home.
Imagination suggests, “Does the Lord know how young I am? I’ve yet to marry, and NOW I’m pregnant?” The shame of being with child without first being married creates weariness, so Mary finds little reason to rejoice. Yet her determined resolve to visit Elizabeth – a force unto itself – is on full display.
That’s because, in community, our joy expands. When we can’t rejoice because of our own circumstance, we still can revel in each other’s joy. That’s what Elizabeth and Mary do for each other. The Good News begins to take shape in Elizabeth’s womb, but Scripture says she stays secluded, hiding her pregnancy from others – that is, until Mary arrives at her door, also unexpectedly pregnant.
The takeaway we’ve gleaned from the pulpit for years is Elizabeth’s provision of sanctuary for Mary.
But perhaps Mary’s arrival is what pulls Elizabeth from her seclusion, allowing her to experience the fullness of joy and delight. Even if neither can feel joy for herself, both experience joy for each other. And that mutuality of shared joy and spiritual connection gives rise to rejoicing. When the field of joy lies barren and fallow, joy blossoms and flourishes when another provides its sowing and nurturing.
Mary’s arrival is the inbreaking that changes everything for Elizabeth. For in that moment, her child leaps in her womb, and she is filled with the Holy Spirit. Elizabeth can’t help but rejoice. Her joy is contagious and wraps around Mary like the warm hug of a woolen blanket.
Through the Old Testament prophet Isaiah, God speaks such tender words of comfort. This is the same comfort we give to each other – and receive from one another, during seasons of Advent waiting and surprise:
“Comfort, comfort my people,” says your God.
“Speak tenderly to Jerusalem. Tell her that her sad days are gone and her sins are pardoned.
Listen! It’s the voice of someone shouting, ‘Clear the way through the wilderness for the LORD! Make a straight highway through the wasteland for our God! Fill in the valleys, and level the mountains and hills. Straighten the curves, and smooth out the rough places. Then the glory of the LORD will be revealed, and all people will see it together. The LORD has spoken!’”
A voice said, “Shout!” I asked, “What should I shout?”
“Shout that people are like the grass. Their beauty fades as quickly as the flowers in a field. The grass withers and the flowers fade beneath the breath of the LORD. And so it is with people. The grass withers and the flowers fade, but the word of our God stands forever.
“O Zion, messenger of good news, shout from the mountaintops! Shout it louder, O Jerusalem. Shout, and do not be afraid. Tell the towns of Judah, ‘Your God is coming!’ Yes, the Sovereign LORD is coming in power. He will rule with a powerful arm. See, he brings his reward with him as he comes. He will feed his flock like a shepherd. He will carry the lambs in his arms, holding them close to his heart. He will gently lead the mother sheep with their young.’” (Isaiah 40:1-11)
Listen to the word that God has spoken; listen to the One who is close at hand.
Listen to the voice that began creation; listen even if you don’t understand.
For the Lord has spoken!
Pastor Grant M. VanderVelden shared this message during worship on the second Sunday of Advent, November 26, 2023, at First Presbyterian Church in Waukon, Iowa, USA. “How does a weary world rejoice?” is the theme for this year’s Advent. It draws on resources from SantifiedArt.org. In the early Church, Advent, like Lent, lasted 40 days. Known as the “Nativity Fast” or “Winter Lent,” those 40 days began in early November. Drawing on that tradition, our Advent will last five weeks instead of the usual four.