Fourth Sunday of Advent: On the Porch with Lizzie

Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Advent - First Draft


(Please e-mail your reactions, suggestions, etc. to jms48@fuse.net. Your feedback is most helpful! Thanks, Fr. Jim)

You won’t see him pictured on any Christmas cards.
You won’t find him standing among the shepherds at a nativity scene.

I’m talking about Zechariah,
a priest in Jerusalem
and the father of John the Baptist.

His wife, Elizabeth, appears in today’s gospel,
but Zechariah’s nowhere to be found.
(Which, by the way, might be a blessing in disguise
since, in all likelihood, old man Zechariah could be nursing a grudge
from that incident in the Temple three months ago
when he doubted the good word of God
and an angel struck him dumb as a result.)

Since Zechariah is absent from today’s gospel passage,
there’s no need to spend a lot time talking about him.
I thought I’d give him a brief mention
for the same reason that the Bible gives him a brief mention:

Zechariah, you see, appears at the beginning of the Christmas story
for one reason and one reason only:

to highlight the contrast between
despair and hope;

his sorry example bring to light
the difference between a life lived in doubt
and a life lived with faith;

his dragging his feet
when it comes to responding to God’s plan
illustrates the sharp distinction between
trust in God and wariness of God.

If you compare God’s Word to a burst of light,
Zechariah’s nothing more than a sunspot.

If he’s the dark sunspot,
where’s the sun?

It’s shining down on his porch
and that’s where today’s gospel opens,
on the doorstep of Zechariah’s house
where his wife, Elizabeth, is overcome with joy
and Mary sings a song praise of the Lord.

What a contrast!

An old man who can’t talk
and beautiful young woman who can’t stop sining.

Compare Zechariah’s old covenant ritual and incense in the stately Temple…
compare that to the exuberance of pregnant women,
laughing on a front porch on a summer day!

Mary, on tip-toe, reaching up to embrace Elizabeth!
The young Mary, on the tip-toe edge of God’s shiny new plan…

a plan to fix up this broken old world;
a plan to coax the fearful into the light of day,to lure the Zechariah in each one of us
out of the cellar and basements of confusion and fear
into the sunlight streaming down on that porch
where Elizabeth and Mary are celebrating
something never happened before
and would never happen again:

God, taking on the flesh of a human being.
in the womb of Mary,
a young girl from a backwater town.

What a day that was!
No wonder Elizabeth was dancing.
Her callused feet suddenly as nimble as a ballerina’s,
her arthritic toes
boot-scootin’ across the wooden planks of that wrap-around porch.

Let old man Zechariah
mutter and stumble his way to salvation…
(let’s you and me fall in line behind Mary and Elizabeth!)

How?
It’s easy!

Sing along with the kids in the car
on the way home from church,

Let your eyes tear up
as the people you love
open the gifts
you’ve given with love…
your love…
the love that God has placed in your heart
and wants you to feel deep inside your heart.

Leave the darkness behind…

And, come Christmas morning,
take a step outside.
Go out onto you porch and offer a prayer of praise to God

The God who comes to the world in human skin
The God who makes old women dance
and young women sing.

No matter the weather,
go out on the porch
feel the sun,
feel the rain,
feel the frost,
open your heart in welcome to him
who opened his arms on the cross for you.

Open you mouth and say the word that Mary said.

Yes.

Say yes!

“Yes, Lord.
Be it done unto me according to your Word.”

Let me sing with Mary.
Make my spirit dance.

This Christmas, Lord,
make my soul to tremble.