The stories proclaimed within the Advent liturgies of the Christian tradition recount situations when humanity is most lost in its own greed, tribalism and violence and the victims are those most outside, vulnerable, and powerless These stories include a remarkable cast of very human characters who played pivotal roles in God’s extraordinary interventions into human history.
They are us. The sacred texts hold a mirror up to the hearer not only urging us summon the courage the be faithful servants, but also challenging us to recognize the villain within ourselves. These stories call us not only to be watchful and alert, but also to be proactive in the divine plan. This week, The Unlikely Liberator.
They are us. The sacred texts hold a mirror up to the hearer not only urging us summon the courage the be faithful servants, but also challenging us to recognize the villain within ourselves. These stories call us not only to be watchful and alert, but also to be proactive in the divine plan. This week, The Unlikely Liberator.
When King David settled in his palace, the Lord had given him rest from his enemies on every side, he said to Nathan the prophet, “Here I am living in a house of cedar, while the ark of God dwells in a tent!” Nathan answered the king, “Go do whatever you have in mind, for the Lord is with you.” But that night the Lord spoke to Nathan and said: “Go tell my servant David, thus says the Lord: Should you build me a house to live in?”
the Second Book of Samuel
the Second Book of Samuel
Sacrifice
oil on canvas
Sr. Mary Grace Thul, OP
2008
We treasure the memories and events that shape our lives and our ethical outlook. They come to form the core of our tribe’s identity. We seek to preserve them for ourselves as well as pass them on to later generations. They become the honored stories retold at family gatherings, and mementos find places of honor in our homes.
Regrettably, the love and reverence we have for these stories can become misshapen in our enthusiasm to preserve them. We see this in the frame shop all the time. Folks bring in memories of people or events or places that have shaped their lives and formed their identities. At the heart of the client’s desire for preservation is to have a tangible and visible expression to keep the memory an ever-present reality in the complexities of a life well lived in this generation and hopefully in the next.
But too often the well-intentioned embellishments of this conservancy can misshapen the memory. The memento, the photograph, the article of clothing, or the letter is placed behind glass and surrounded by a decorative frame. This new presentation often shifts the memory from a living event to an object of veneration. We physically remove the memory from its engagement with its tribe. We look at it, but we do not touch. We admire it, but we do not participate. A wall of separation is built between us and the memories that shape us.
The same wall is built with the ornamentation, embellishment, and gloss bound to the stories of the season of Advent. Like us, the ancients embellished their memories in their enthusiasm to preserve them. Tales of royal courts of great kings and queens, generations of hereditary leadership, a people set apart for favor, and mighty and ever-lasting kingdoms become a decorative frame that can literally remove us from the foundations of our tribe’s story and identity. At their core, the Advent stories are so much more unpretentious, and filled with a very real, and a very ragtag cast of characters. When we side-step theses embellishments, we get the true heart of the memory that past people of faith desired to pass on. These characters are us, and like them, we are called to be more than onlookers in the divine plan for humanity.
It might seem strange to spotlight Sr. Mary Grace’s image Sacrifice when so many churches are placing the baby Jesus in the manger on this Sunday in Advent. I appreciate this image because it is about memory and memento without any embellishment or gloss. Like the unwed teenage mother from last week, or the outsider mystic from the previous week, or the angry rants of an ignored and misunderstood prophet that underpins the entire season, Mary Grace’s Jesus is stripped bare to the raw essentials of the story of salvation. This unlikely liberator is the reason for the season. He is not separated from his tribe. Emmanuel is touch-able. This is a real memory/moment in time, and we can have first-hand experience of God’s intervention in the beloved creation. A new kind of ruler has come to live (and die) among us and remind us of our required participation in the work of salvation.
oil on canvas
Sr. Mary Grace Thul, OP
2008
We treasure the memories and events that shape our lives and our ethical outlook. They come to form the core of our tribe’s identity. We seek to preserve them for ourselves as well as pass them on to later generations. They become the honored stories retold at family gatherings, and mementos find places of honor in our homes.
Regrettably, the love and reverence we have for these stories can become misshapen in our enthusiasm to preserve them. We see this in the frame shop all the time. Folks bring in memories of people or events or places that have shaped their lives and formed their identities. At the heart of the client’s desire for preservation is to have a tangible and visible expression to keep the memory an ever-present reality in the complexities of a life well lived in this generation and hopefully in the next.
But too often the well-intentioned embellishments of this conservancy can misshapen the memory. The memento, the photograph, the article of clothing, or the letter is placed behind glass and surrounded by a decorative frame. This new presentation often shifts the memory from a living event to an object of veneration. We physically remove the memory from its engagement with its tribe. We look at it, but we do not touch. We admire it, but we do not participate. A wall of separation is built between us and the memories that shape us.
The same wall is built with the ornamentation, embellishment, and gloss bound to the stories of the season of Advent. Like us, the ancients embellished their memories in their enthusiasm to preserve them. Tales of royal courts of great kings and queens, generations of hereditary leadership, a people set apart for favor, and mighty and ever-lasting kingdoms become a decorative frame that can literally remove us from the foundations of our tribe’s story and identity. At their core, the Advent stories are so much more unpretentious, and filled with a very real, and a very ragtag cast of characters. When we side-step theses embellishments, we get the true heart of the memory that past people of faith desired to pass on. These characters are us, and like them, we are called to be more than onlookers in the divine plan for humanity.
It might seem strange to spotlight Sr. Mary Grace’s image Sacrifice when so many churches are placing the baby Jesus in the manger on this Sunday in Advent. I appreciate this image because it is about memory and memento without any embellishment or gloss. Like the unwed teenage mother from last week, or the outsider mystic from the previous week, or the angry rants of an ignored and misunderstood prophet that underpins the entire season, Mary Grace’s Jesus is stripped bare to the raw essentials of the story of salvation. This unlikely liberator is the reason for the season. He is not separated from his tribe. Emmanuel is touch-able. This is a real memory/moment in time, and we can have first-hand experience of God’s intervention in the beloved creation. A new kind of ruler has come to live (and die) among us and remind us of our required participation in the work of salvation.
In speaking about Exodus, midrash scholar Avivah Zornberg says, “I think one of the important issues is…the need for those who have to be liberated to achieve in themselves some sense of the possibility of change…the story of the Exodus is one in which… one of the most important themes for liberation is the need for a process of growth within the persecuted if they are to have a history.” In this powerful anthem from The Greatest Showman, the “sideshow freaks” from P.T. Barnum’s circus imagine the possibility of change when they find their voices, take a stand for their humanity, and proclaim their self-worth.
In the Liturgy of the Hours, evening prayer on the final days leading up to Christmas features a series of antiphons preceding the Magnificat. These short verses bid the coming of God’s liberating action with a rich use of imagery addressing each character with the vocative expression “O” – O Root of Jesse, O Key of David, O Radiant Dawn, and so on. Thus they are known as the “O” Antiphons. These texts are most familiar in the Advent song, O Come Emmanuel. Here is a setting by Sufjan Stevens. Find a comfortable seat and settle as you listen and reflect on the lyrics and music.
The promises of the Lord I will sing forever.
Through all generations my mouth shall proclaim your faithfulness.
For you have said. “My kindness is established forever”;
in heaven you have confirmed your faithfulness.
the unnamed lyricist of the 89th psalm
Through all generations my mouth shall proclaim your faithfulness.
For you have said. “My kindness is established forever”;
in heaven you have confirmed your faithfulness.
the unnamed lyricist of the 89th psalm
How do you experience God as liberator? What is your role in the work of salvation? How will you respond?
Suggestions for further exploration:
Suggestions for further exploration:
- Read and meditate on the lectionary readings for this week.
- Explore the myth of the Exodus by listening to this interview with Avivah Zornberg. Her work reframes the roles of the characters in the story – Moses, Pharoah, and the Israelites.
- Honor the Winter Solstice with restorative meditation or movement. As we mark the shortest day/longest night, it is helpful to explore ways to intentionally tune into winter.
- Pray the O Antiphons in the final days of Advent.
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