Carrying Christmas with us

The Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

St. James’s, West Hartford

Christmas Day II

Isaiah 62:6-12, Titus 3:4-7, Luke 2:1-20, Psalm 97

In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen. 

I was having a conversation with a friend recently about the busyness and stress of our respective lives. We talked about how this time between Christmas and New Years when our offices are closed and our email inboxes slow to a steady trickle rather than a daily flood, feels like the eye of the storm. Kids are off from school. There’s time for games and naps or simply lounging on the couch with a good book. There’s an ease and a peacefulness in the daily schedule that seems the polar opposite of our day to day professional lives. We know we will have to return to that life and that world. To the challenges we know are coming and those that will surprise us. 

And yet, I find myself longing to figure out how to carry the joys and the peace of this time with me. It’s just the same way I feel about our liturgy this morning. So often the holidays can feel harried and stressful. Did I get the right gifts? Will the dinner turn out okay? Maybe it wasn’t a good day to try a new recipe? Will everyone get along? What if someone brings up politics or the economy or religion? Will we go home mad at each other? Wait, wait - isn’t Christmas supposed to be about joy and celebration - why do I feel so stressed out? 

And then we come here. To this peaceful sanctuary (and if there are any small children here, know that their presence and their sounds do not disturb that peace, they merely add to the joy). We get to hear and sing beautiful music. We get to hear the familiar Christmas story. We get to be fed in Word and Sacrament. If we let the liturgy wash over us, we can, even if only for a few minutes find that peace that indeed passes understanding. 

And it can be fleeting. Our to do lists. Our anxiety about time with extended family or our sadness at being without those we love today. Or the heaviness of the news headlines. Something. Anything will creep back in and our brains will start going. And before we know it, we are miles down a mental road and the peace is gone. 

How do we hold on to it? Well, I think our Gospel today might have some wisdom for us. Pay attention to the last few lines. The shepherds have come to visit Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. They are in awe - full of wonder and excitement - telling the story of the angels’ appearance to them in the hills. Sharing all the angels said about who Jesus is and why his birth is so significant. And what does Mary do? Note what it says: “Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.” Hmm. Note that it does not say that Mary entertained the shepherds making tea and serving them. Note that it does not say that she debated with them about what the angels said nor did she dismiss their experience because she already knew that truth. No, she treasured the fact that others were affirming what she already knew about the baby in her arms. And she pondered their words in her heart. 

Oh. You mean she focused on the positive? On the gifts and blessings of the moment? You mean she took a few minutes for herself to think quietly? Hmm. For those of us who like to do, who like to be busy and productive and helpful this whole idea of pausing and slowing down and thinking quietly can seem anathema. 

And I am beginning to wonder if there isn’t something to Mary’s behavior that might hold the key to carrying a little of the peace and calm of this morning into the rest of our daily lives. Because no matter what, the demands of our daily lives and the world will come back to us, perhaps even as soon as we walk out the door this morning. 

So, how might we become more like Mary. What would it look like to “ponder something in our hearts”? Notice again that Mary does not get up to do a task nor does she start in on a monologue or a long conversation. It’s just a moment. The story goes on. The shepherds leave, and anyone who has ever been around a newborn baby knows that moments of literal peace and quiet are few and fleeting. 

So, the Gospel is not asking us to completely transform our daily schedules and meditate 10 hours a day. The invitation is to follow Mary’s example. To ponder things in our hearts. To take just a moment to reflect, to be grateful, to focus on the blessings even in the midst of the chaos and flurry of daily life. 

The peace we know in this place, in these days, need not be completely fleeting. We can find it again, for today we celebrate that God has come to dwell with us, to know the fullness of the human experience. So, no matter what the world may throw at us, we need only take a moment to pause and ponder, to remember that the love of God and the peace of God are right there if only our hearts are open to receive it. Amen. 

 

God in the unexpected

 

The Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

Christmas Eve, December 24, 2024

Isaiah 9:2-7; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14(15-20); Psalm 96

In the name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen. 

One of my favorite Bible professors in seminary frequently reminded us “Don’t confuse familiarity with understanding.” I think tonight’s Scriptures might be the easiest ones with which to do that. We know this story so well. There’s a census. Joseph and Mary travel by donkey. There’s no room at the Inn, so Mary gives birth in a stable. Angels come to the shepherds who are in awe, and go to visit the new baby. Mary treasures their words in her heart. 

It is a beautiful and familiar story. And with its familiarity we can lose sight of some of its most profound truths. We can forget the significance of how God chose to show up on this night. God did not make an appearance as a full grown man who could immediately begin his preaching and teaching ministry. God did not show up as a prince born in a palace. God did not come in any form that society would have recognized as powerful or influential. God came in the form of an infant. A helpless, innocent child who was completely dependent on those around him for everything - food, shelter, care, love, safety - everything. And God came to poor parents who were ostracized from their community for the scandal of Mary’s pregnancy. And God came precisely at the time of a census which meant Jesus couldn’t even be born at home or at an Inn. He was born in a stable. 

Any of you who have spent time on a farm know that barns are not always the cleanest of places nor do they have the freshest air. The peaceful tableau of a crèche scene or a Christmas card can sanitize out the muck, the smell, the close quarters, and the noise of the animals. 

So God came into the world in a messy way to the least likely of people. And then to whom did God announce this glorious event? The emperor in Rome? The local governor? The priests in the temple in Jerusalem? Anyone in a position of power and privilege? Nope. The angels showed up to shepherds grazing their flocks in the nearby hills. Poor laborers who had no social status to speak of. Again God showed up in an unexpected place, at an unexpected time to the least likely candidates. 

So what does all this mean of us? Other than hopefully helping us to feel a little more deeply the significance and the impact of the Christmas story - to not just nod and smile or stop listening because we know just how it goes. I actually think there is a profound lesson in this story for us, here, now, on this night in 2024. 

I learned a new word recently. It’s “Refugia.” Maybe some of you know it? It’s the natural phenomenon that occurs in the wake of a disaster where there are little pockets of safety, of refuge, where life clings on and from which new life begins. I learned it in a book entitled Refugia Faith by Debra Rienstra. She opens the book by talking about the eruption of Mt. St. Helens in 1980. At the time scientists thought it would be generations and generations before any life returned to the mountainsides. But within only a few short decades, the mountainsides were covered in grasses and flowers with trees growing and a vibrant animal life. That speedy return to health and vitality for the mountain was possible because of little pockets of “Refugia” - little nooks and crannies sheltered by rocks to tree roots or under moss that were protected from the shower of hot ash that coated everything for miles around in 1980. 

New life was possible. Transformation was possible because life clung on and sprouted in tiny and unexpected ways. Hmm. Hope and new life because of something tiny and unexpected . . .sounds a bit like our Christmas story doesn’t it? 

And that is indeed the message I hope we will carry with us from this night. Hope and new life are always possible. Always. It is just that we often have to look for it in the most unexpected places or the most unexpected ways. 

I have no doubt that there are many of you who are struggling (or who know people who are) on this night and in this season. Whether it’s the challenge of navigating a first Christmas without a beloved person. Or perhaps navigating unexpected health or financial challenges. Or maybe it is just that the needs of the world and the divisiveness of our political realm are weighing on us. Maybe we are just weary and anxious. We don’t know what the future holds. We are longing for a sense of peace and stability that seems elusive. 

No matter what it is that has made our hearts heavy in recent times, I hope we can hold on to the beautiful truth of our Christmas story. I hope that we can be on the lookout for the pockets and the signs of Refugia in our own lives. There is hope. There is light. There is possibility for us all. 

It is not likely to come neatly wrapped in a bow under the tree. It will come in messy and human ways that are unexpected. A surprising bit of good news. A call from an old friend. An extra few minutes to rest and breathe deeply. A conversation with someone whose wisdom and sense of humor always help us see our way out of our current struggles. The gift of time and connection, so that we can remember daily that we are loved, and that God has a long and glorious history of making God’s presence known in the world in the most unexpected ways. If we keep our eyes, our ears, and most importantly our hearts, open then we too can join the shepherds in awe and gratitude. Amen.  

Saying Yes to God

                                                        Mosaic from Hagia Sophia

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom

Nativity of Mary, September 8, 2020

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word, who is Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.

So today we celebrate the nativity of Mary. We honor the birth of Jesus’ mother. It is of course a great and glorious thing to honor Mary. A remarkable woman who rightfully has a profound and prominent place in our tradition. From our Scriptures, it could be easy to just think of today as a celebration of unexpected pregnancies and miraculous children. But I think that ultimately, both the story of Hannah and the story of the Angel Gabriel’s visit to Mary point to us even wider ideas and understandings. 

We are in good company when things are not going as we had hoped. That is exactly how Hannah spends much of our reading from Samuel today. In a place we have all been, and might be right now - a place of wishing things were different than they are. If we are feeling as though life is mixed up or out of order or things are not at all going the way we planned, we are not alone. Hannah had a very different life in mind for herself, but that was not how it went. Do you think Mary was planning on having a baby that year? Considering she and Joseph weren’t even married yet, it is not likely. She had not expected an Angel to appear to her and inform her that she was going to have a baby, and not just any baby, God’s Son. And she certainly wasn’t planning on giving birth in a stable miles and miles from her family.

And there is an invitation here, today, in our stories of Hannah and of Mary and the Angel Gabriel. It is an invitation to be faithful and to be open. It is an invitation to be alert to the ways God shows up unexpectedly in our lives, and to pay attention when that happens. An invitation to trust that there is more at work than we can know. An invitation to believe the Angels who show up in our lives and invite us to follow God on paths that seem far different from what we had planned. Perhaps we will be like Hannah and find a longer and more circuitous path to the realization of a long held dream and desire. Perhaps we will find ourselves like Mary to be invited to take a direction we never expected or even believed was possible, but which is more beautiful, challenging, and meaningful than we ever could have imagined. Through our Scriptures we are invited to be faithful like Hannah, and to be open like Mary. We are being offered an invitation to take a deep breath and to be present in the moment. An invitation to pay attention and to say yes when God shows up.  

We may all have our own ways of slowing down and paying more attention. And I would guess there are some similarities. I know I can’t pay attention well if my physical body doesn’t feel well. Enough sleep. Enough exercise. Enough water. Eating well (and in my case often - those who know me well will attest that if you don’t feed me regularly I get cranky.) That basket of snacks on my office table at 815 is absolutely for sharing, and I am glad it is enjoyed by others. It is also there, because I can’t usually go a whole day without snacks. So, taking care of our bodies matters. We also need to care for our minds and our souls. We need things that challenge our intellect and expand our mental horizons. We need time for reflection and prayer. We need to read things that are uplifting and inspiring. We need conversations that bring us joy. This may seem like a tall order. How are we supposed to do all those things and get our work done, our children educated, pay our bills, do all the chores around the house and so on and so on? Here’s the thing though. It is all about the order of operations. Remember middle school math? You only get the “right answer,” the whole problem only works if you do things in the right order. If you do the subtraction before the exponents the answer will be an order of magnitude off. If we do all the things to take care of ourselves first, we will be more productive at work, we will be more patient with our children, we will find more energy and creativity to deal with whatever tasks come our way. Start with the important stuff. That is how we can thrive, and it is how we can foster the kind of heart space needed to be open to God’s invitations in our lives - even the unexpected ones.

This day reminds us that  things will not always happen the way we would like. Sometimes it may feel as though things are moving far too fast or far too slow. Sometimes it will seem as though things are all mixed up. But that is okay. We are not alone. Some of the best stories started out in confusing and unexpected ways. Today’s readings are a prime example of that. And so we are invited to be like Hannah, to be like Mary, and to trust in the workings of the Holy Spirit. Even when we feel scared or uncertain. God is present. God is at work. We need to remain faithful and to be open to the Angels that show up in our lives. The ones who manifest God’s presence to us. The ones who invite us into new possibilities, to stretch beyond our comfort zone. The ones who remind us that the path will not always look the way we expect, but we can and we should trust that God is leading us. We are being led into a brighter future, one of light and life, always. It may not come on the timeline we had planned. It may not be exactly as we had imagined it. And yet it will be glorious and wonderful, because it is God’s future. 

AMEN.

Finding More Mary Moments

View from cliffs of Monhegan Island in Maine

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer

Feast of Mary and Martha

July 29, 2020

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

It is not possible for me to read this Gospel lesson and not think of my college roommate, Michelle. Truly you could just swap out Mary and Martha in this lesson for Michelle and Molly. I had always been the kid who had to do her homework before playing. I often worked ahead, starting a paper weeks before it was due. Michelle, on the other hand, could wake up early the morning a paper was due and crank out a brilliant piece of writing. I marveled at this ability. 

Multiple years of living together and decades of friendship have meant that both of us do a bit more of both. Michelle has become a successful lawyer and does a lot more advance work and planning. I have discovered that as a grown up it is not possible to complete your “to do” list first or do everything in advance. I have even written a sermon on the day I preached it! 

But the lessons that Michelle taught me are far more significant and powerful than just about when we do our work or how we manage our time. The important thing wasn’t about planning vs. procrastinating. It was about priorities. Michelle reminded me of that all important truth (which I have the tendency to forget when I get focused like Martha on all the tasks in front of me) that time and relationships are far more valuable and meaningful than achievements.  

The Holy Spirit has a way of showing up and providing the lessons when I need them, as long as I am paying attention, of course! I feel like I needed this Mary and Martha reminder this week especially. Perhaps it is that I am just back from vacation trying to hold on to that sense of peace and serenity I found sitting on the cliffs of Monhegan Island in Maine staring out at the vast expanse of ocean and sky. It is so easy to just dive right back into all the things, all the tasks. Particularly in the midst of a pandemic when tasks are so wonderfully useful for keeping the stress and anxiety of this time at a relative distance. If I just focus on my “to do” list - on sending more emails and writing more documents, making more phone calls, I can forget for a few minutes about all the headlines of rising infection rates and rising death tolls, I can stop thinking about all the what ifs for our work life, for our families, for our children - what are the next weeks and months going to look like? 

Now of course there is value in accomplishing tasks. There is a certain joy and creativity that comes with losing ourselves in a piece of writing or a project. And it is good to have things to keep our anxiety at bay. Of course, we all have jobs to do. We have important and meaningful work, which requires us to complete tasks. I am not dismissing our tasks or our work at all. 

I am just taking a cautionary tale from our Gospel (mostly because I need it today), and I hope it is a helpful reminder for you as well. There are dangers if we live on the Martha end of the spectrum, if we pour ourselves into work, something that is especially easy to do when we are all working from home. Our work is always right there. It requires a particular kind of self-discipline (and the blessing of compassionate and smart supervisors) to leave something “at the office” when “the office” is only a few feet from where we make dinner, play cards, read for fun, watch tv or do our morning exercise routine. It is all right there. We have to choose to be Mary. 

It takes work on our part. But my friends that “work” is so completely worth it. That is what we need to remember today. Jesus tells Mary that she has chosen “the better part.” Indeed. We need that part. We need those times where we sit, we pause, we reflect, we learn. We need to put aside the tasks and the busyness from time to time. We need time that feeds our souls and fills our hearts. 

It is becoming increasingly clear that we are going to be in this mode of living and working for the long haul, and so we need to sustain ourselves. We cannot rely on grit or willpower or the rewards of achievements. We need the kind of inner strength and fortitude that comes with having reoriented ourselves to God. 

That is the gift of today’s Gospel, that is the gift of having friends like Michelle in our lives. It is the gift of being reminded that being present to each other, that pausing to reflect, to learn, to listen is a balm to our soul in troubled times. 

Sitting at the feet of Jesus likely looks a little different to each of us, depending on our circumstances or our spiritual journeys. And also what time of day or day of the week it is. Whatever that might look like in your context today and this week, I hope you will carry Mary and Martha with you as you go about your life. I hope you will honor your Martha moments for the good and meaningful work you accomplish. I hope that you will also be sure there are plenty of Mary moments (at least one a day) where you find a way to sit at Jesus’ feet and receive the gift of his grace that is so abundantly offered to us. Amen. 

Visitation of Mary - Clothe yourselves in Love

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer

Visitation of Mary, June 1, 2020

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

“Above all, clothe yourselves with love.” Indeed. I don’t know about you all, but I needed that word today. I needed our whole passage from Colossians. I came to our Scriptures today carrying the anxiety, the fear, the deep grief of this time, which has only been intensified by the recent events. The truth of racism, that systemic sin which infects our society, has been brought to the fore by the terrible disparities of infection and death rates from COVID. And by the horrific recent deaths of innocent people of color in Georgia, Kentucky, and Minnesota. 

It is enough to overwhelm or unmoor us. It is enough to make us lose our footing. And so I am all the more grateful for our Scripture readings today, from Colossians and from Luke. We need to be reminded that we are called to peace, to love, to “compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.” That is what God desires for us. That is how God desires for us to be with one another. Now I think it is important to note that “meekness” and “patience” do not mean that we sit idly by in the face of injustice or sin. They do not mean that we just wait for someone else to fix the situation. They do not mean that we ignore the realities in front of us. Colossians goes on to remind us that we are to: “teach and admonish one another in all wisdom.” 

Indeed. We followers of Jesus are called to a high standard for how we live out our lives. Our passage from Luke today provides us the beginning of the Magnificat. That beautiful song of Mary that elucidates God’s dream for the world. A dream that is about filling the hungry and bringing down the powerful. A dream that is about scattering the proud and lifting up the lowly. Mary’s hymn is all about undoing the status quo. All about equality and justice. It is just as relevant to us in these days as it was 2000 years ago. God’s dream does not involve power and wealth being concentrated in the hands of the few at the expense of the many. 

Our Scriptures today paint a beautiful picture of the world as it could be - where love binds all things, where compassion and wisdom are our guideposts. And when we hold that picture up against the realities of our world, especially evident in these past days and weeks, the contrast is jarring. There is a call to action in that contrast. A call that is particularly meant for people like me. People whose skin color, class, and heritage mean that my life has been full of privilege in a myriad of ways. It is a call that asks me to learn, to listen, to pray, and to act. A call that asks me to always be challenging myself, what can I do today to bring about the transformation of the world? 

The violence and suffering of these times, and recent days especially, can be overwhelming. The work in front of us can seem insurmountable. And so we also need the reminder of Colossians to be thankful. To give thanks to God in all that we say and do. This is also reminder to be alert and attentive to the ways in which God is at work in the world. To all the ways that we are reminded that not only is transformation possible, it is happening in our world. 

We need to be reminded of the ways that the transformation of our own hearts, the small acts of kindness, the moments of humility and generosity, moments of care and compassion that we say, that we do, that we witness each day matter. Transformation of ourselves and our relationships is the beginning of transforming our structures and our systems. 

There is work ahead of us. Challenging and holy work. It will be hard. And yet the good news is that we do not do it alone. We are in this together. We have each other and the Holy Spirit is with us. May that truth grant us the courage to keep going, to incarnate the compassion and wisdom of God in all that we say and do. Amen. 

Annunciation and Magnificat

Embed from Getty Images

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD
DFMS Noonday Prayer, via Zoom
Feast of the Annunciation, March 25, 2020

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Today is the Feast of the Annunciation. It is the day we celebrate Mary, the Mother of Jesus, and her willingness to say yes to God. Along with the story of the Annunciation in our Gospel, we get Canticle 15, also known as the Magnificat in place of our psalm today. The Magnificat is one of my favorite pieces of Scripture. It is the song that Mary sings when she meets up with Elizabeth. Elizabeth tells her that she is blessed among women, and Mary responds with a song about what God has done and will do. And this song is not only beautiful and inspiring, it is a song that has a significant place in our tradition. If you pray Evening Prayer or attend Evensong on a regular basis, you will notice that the Magnificat is always said or sung. That tells us that basically the Magnificat always has something to say to us, no matter what day it is. No doubt that is true for us today as we struggle in the midst of a global pandemic.

What is it about the Magnificat that is so important, so meaningful for us as followers of Jesus?

I think it tells us three important things about God and about ourselves. It tells us about MERCY, CHANGE, and PROMISE.

First, we are reminded that God is merciful. That God loves us. That God cares for us. With so much fear and uncertainty in our hearts and our communities in these days, we could lose sight of that very important truth. We need that truth, and we need to remember what it means for Mary to have spoken the truth about who God is and how God cares for us. Mary was woman ostracized and possibly even shamed by her community. She was on the margins. She was a woman at a time when women were regarded as property. She had no rights, no power, no authority. And yet here she is in the Gospel of Luke, doing what men do, what prophets do, speaking truths about God with authority and conviction. Such important truths that they are written down and preserved for generations to come.

The fact that Mary is the one speaking of God’s favor, God’s love, and God’s mercy reminds us that our God is not just the God of the powerful. God’s mercy, God’s love are for all people, everywhere. Especially for those on the margins. Especially for those who feel unworthy of God’s love. And that my friends is an important reminder for each of us in this time when no doubt more and more people are feeling marginalized each day, as they face illness or death, as the unemployment numbers rise, as more and more people face a personally or communally unstable future. We, the Church, have a call to minister with, to serve, to care for those on the margins. The needs are great throughout our communities, and are going to be increasing in the coming weeks and months. May we remember that our God is a God of compassion and mercy. May we be generous with ourselves and with all those around us. May we be agents of mercy wherever we go.

Second, Mary talks about change. Aren’t we all learning a lot about change in these days. So much of what has been the status quo is changing. Mary and Jesus knew something about changing the status quo in their time too. Jesus’ whole life and ministry were about inviting people into a new way of being that was a transformation of the status quo. And as his followers, we too are invited to join in that transformation. It is worth remembering what an act of faith it is for Mary to say all these things about what God is doing and then to live into the path that has been set before her. Can you imagine it? Imagine knowing that your child would have an amazing impact on the world, would change the course of history and bring hope and salvation. Imagine knowing that before you have even held the child. And imagine knowing that would also it come with enormous cost. Imagine knowing all that and still saying yes? Mary had deep faith and profound courage. I think it is important to note here that my favorite definition of courage is being afraid and doing it anyway. I don’t doubt Mary was afraid. How could she not be? And yet she says yes to God. Yes to being Jesus’ mother, even though the road would be so very rough. What an inspiration for us in a time when we know the road ahead will be rough and full of uncertainty.

Mary’s courage also brings us to the third element of the Magnificat and why it matters for us. It matters because the Magnificat is about promises. It is about God’s promises and our promises. Mary reminds us that God keeps promises. God does not forget them. God is faithful, and we are called to be faithful as well. This does not mean that God’s promises will always be fulfilled in the time or manner in which WE would like. It is important to note that God does not promise us an easy road. God certainly did not promise Mary an easy road. What God does promise is to be faithful. God promises to be faithful to who we know God to be. God promises to be Emmanuel, God with us. And God invites us to be faithful to our promises, to be faithful followers of Jesus. We are called to be faithful and courageous like Mary. We are called to trust in God’s abiding presence, even when we feel afraid. This means stepping out and stepping up to do the right thing, even when we are not sure how it is all going to turn out.

So, I invite you to carry the Magnificat through the days and weeks ahead as we continue to live into the ever changing realities of this global pandemic. Carry the Magnificat with you each day. Carry its truth. Carry its hope. Carry its conviction. Carry the bold and comforting knowledge that God is merciful, that God is bringing about change in the world, and that God is faithful. May those gifts and truths in turn inspire us to be merciful, to join with God’s reconciling love at work in the world, and to have the courage to keep our promises, even when we feel afraid.

AMEN.

Life isn’t always orderly

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Rev. Molly F. James, PhD
Christ Church Cathedral, Hartford, CT
Advent IV, December 24, 2017
2 Samuel 7:1-11,16; Canticle 15; Romans 16:25-27; Luke 1:26-38

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word, who is Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.

When I was a kid I spent a lot of time at my grandmother’s farm house. One of our favorite evening activities was to watch old films, and yes I do mean films-  the kind that required a projector. Of course, she had family ones from when she or my dad were young, but our favorites were the Charlie Chaplin ones. We thought they were so funny, especially when we got to watch them go backwards. When the ice cream magically went up out of the women’s dress and back up on to Charlie’s cone on the balcony above. We also thought it was really funny when the projector was set too fast and everything happened in double or triple time. Today might feel a little bit as though someone set the projector on high speed and is running it backwards and forwards on us.

Here we are on the fourth Sunday in Advent, at least for a few more hours. In our Gospel reading today we hear of the Angel Gabriel telling Mary that she will be Jesus’ mother. But before we even heard that Gospel, in the place of the psalm, we said the Magnificat, that wonderful passage from Luke that is Mary’s song when she goes to visit her cousin Elizabeth during the sixth month of her pregnancy. For those of who return in about 12 or 14 hours, we will be celebrating the birth of Jesus. Feel like you have liturgical whiplash yet? Exhausted yet?

I don’t know about you, but I find myself wanting to know where the pause button is. Wait, I cry. How is it already the fourth Sunday of Advent. It feels like we have barely started. How can we possibly go from a not yet pregnant Mary to the birth of Jesus in a 24 hour period. Isn’t Advent supposed to be about contemplation and preparation? I find myself wanting to protest and argue with the lectionary committee and with our calendar. Why did we have to have two Sundays of John the Baptist preparing the way for Jesus’ ministry and then only get to hear about Mary and the Angel Gabriel the morning before we celebrate the birth of Jesus? But then I stop and take a breath, and I laugh. I laugh because it is like real life. How often have we had days or weeks or even months in our lives where things felt backwards and upside down or like they were moving too fast? Turns out it is far more like real life to have things a bit mixed up and out of order as they are today.

Ultimately, I find it comforting. If we are feeling as though life is mixed up or out of order or things are not at all going the way we planned, we are not alone. In fact we are in remarkable company. Do you think Mary was planning on having a baby that year? Considering she and Joseph weren’t even married yet, it is not likely. She had not expected an Angel to appear to her and inform that she was going to have a baby, and not just any baby, God’s Son. And she certainly wasn’t planning on giving birth in a stable miles and miles from her family.

We are in good company when things are not going as we had hoped. And there is an invitation here, today, in our story of Mary and the Angel Gabriel. It is an invitation of acceptance. Invitation to be alert to the ways God shows up unexpectedly in our lives, and to pay attention when that happens. An invitation to go with the flow and trust that there is more at work than we can know. An invitation to believe the Angels who show up in our lives and invite us to follow God on paths that seem far different from what we had planned. Today we are invited to be like Mary, and to say “Yes” to God. It is an invitation to take a deep breath and to be present in the moment. An invitation to pay attention.

There is another invitation in our texts today. It is an invitation to action. It is an invitation to be about living out lives that reflect the desires of God. It is the invitation to bring the world and our own lives more in line with the Magnificat. A world where the proud are scattered, where the mighty are cast down, and the rich sent away empty. A world where the lowly are lifted up, the hungry are filled and the mercy of God is known everywhere.

I don’t know how many of you regularly pray the Daily Office or have the privilege of regularly attending Evening Prayer or Evensong services, but if you do, you will notice that the Magnificat shows up with great regularity. I don’t think that is an accident. Hearing, praying, saying, singing the Magnificat is always a good idea. We need it to be a centerpiece in our lives and in our faith. We need to always be reminded of God’s desires for the world and for those of us who follow Jesus. We need to be reminded that filling the hungry, lifting up our neighbors in need and promoting the mercy of God are what we are to be about each and every day.

As this day reminds us, things will not always happen the way we would like or in the particular order we would like. Sometimes it will feel as though things are moving far too fast or far too slow. Sometimes it will seem as though things are all mixed up. But that is okay. We are not alone. Some of the best stories started out in confusing and unexpected ways. Today’s readings are a prime example of that. And so we are invited to be like Mary, and to trust in the workings of the Holy Spirit. Even when we feel scared or uncertain. God is present. God is at work. The question for us is, will we be able to live more fully in the present moment, so that we might join with God in that holy work? I sure hope so.

AMEN.