Have you
ever had the experience of giving a gift to someone, or offering to do
something for another person? Perhaps
you planned an event for them you are certain they will enjoy? Maybe you have worked for many days on a
project or spent a lot of money on a gift that you hope will delight them. When you present your offering, or your idea
of a way to help or honor them, you are met with a less than enthusiastic
response. Perhaps they even refuse your
offer and you are left confused and disappointed. If not, I am certain the next several days
might offer you the opportunity to engage in this unsettling experience.
This is
sort of what happens to David in today’s first reading. He’s relaxing in his palace, after his
enemies have been defeated, and the nation is at peace. He probably is feeling quite content with
himself; and, hopefully grateful to God who has highly favored him. In a reflective moment he realizes that while
he lives in palatial splendor, the ark of God, which the Israelites believed to
represent God’s presence among them, is housed in a tent.
Out of
love and gratitude, no doubt, David decides to build a more fitting house for
the Lord. We may wonder about his
motives to do so, but I don’t think we would doubt his sincerity. Judging by an
archeological excavation in July of 2013, which claims to have discovered King
David’s Palace, no doubt, David had impressive plans for God’s permanent
dwelling among His people. He shares
something of his plan with Nathan, the prophet.
As David
dreams of how best to honor the ark, God is having a talk with Nathan, and has
some surprises for David that will pale in comparison to what David has in
mind.
You can
almost hear God chuckling a bit when Nathan relays His words to David: “Should
you build ME a house to dwell in”
Really!” No doubt God appreciates
and respects David’s desire to construct a magnificent dwelling, but that isn’t
at all what God has in mind. It’s as if
God is saying to David, “So, you want to build me a house. Well that’s nice, but just listen to what I
am going to do for YOU!” What ensues is a
reminder to David of how God has raised him from lowliness to power and how He
will continue to be with His people, bringing justice to them, and establishing
along David’s bloodline a kingdom, which will endure forever. This is known as the “Davidic covenant” whose
promise is fulfilled with the birth of Jesus.
The drama
of that fulfillment is played out in today’s gospel. We’ve heard this story so often that it loses
something of its magnificence, its power to fill our hearts with unspeakable
joy. We often miss the significance of
this fulfillment of God’s promise to David, because when we hear these words,
when Luke’s gospel of annunciation is most often proclaimed, we are usually
distracted with our own details of building a house for the Lord, in the form
of a Christmas celebration to honor God and delight our loved ones.
We often find
ourselves, (at least I do) on this fourth Sunday of Advent, wrapped up in the
details of preparing for Christmas. Many
of us are scurrying around buying and wrapping gifts, decorating our homes,
entertaining or attending parties, baking, cleaning, and cooking. There are holiday concerts and other events
to attend. Some of us may even still
send Christmas cards. So much to do.
Many of us, hopefully, are trying to find time to read our daily reflections in
the Advent booklets Bonnie provided, perhaps seeking the sacrament of
reconciliation. Maybe we are performing
acts of charity, and trying our darndest to be patient and cheerful; and, if
even for a moment in our harried lives, to reflect on the birth of Jesus and
what it means for us, and for our world.
Sometimes;
however, we get so caught up in the details of trying to honor the great gift
God has given us in the incarnation of His Son, we defeat the purpose of what
we are doing. It’s so easy to do, given
the high expectations we have of ourselves and of each other. Our culture doesn’t help either with the
images of idyllic holidays with smiling and delighted children, grateful
recipients of our thoughtful gifts, perfect holiday feasts laid out on cleverly
decorated tables.
As my
children and husband will tell you, I have, at some point in Advent, or even
earlier, cancelled every Christmas celebration I ultimately managed to pull off
(no matter how shabbily.) I’ve taken those Facebook quizzes, which determined I
am more a Grinch than an elf, more Ebenezer Scrooge than Mr. Fezziwig. Maybe some of you are too. And that’s okay. Sometimes that grouchy exterior hides a heart
that isn’t three sizes too small or made of coal. Perhaps it hides a heart that is broken by
loss, or disappointment. Perhaps it
hides a heart that is weary of the relentless challenge of living in a world
that continually denies its need for a Savior.
Perhaps it is bursting with a love that is never acknowledged or
returned. What Christmas reveals to us,
more than anything, is our own poverty, our damaged, but priceless,
hearts. The good news the angel Gabriel
announces is that God, because He desires our damaged hearts and our all too
imperfect lives, has become poor like us, helpless like us, stripped of power
and dignity. The manger beckons us, not
just to gaze at the marvel of incarnation, but also to look at each other, and
ourselves and see the face of God.
When we do
so, like David, we will see that while our God dwells in the splendor of
Christmas, He also dwells in a tent, much like the woman who died on Karluk
Street and Third Avenue last week--with not much more than thin fabric walls to
keep out the cold and bad weather. Like
David, perhaps embarrassed by the splendor in which he found himself, we will
be moved to attain more fitting structures to not only house our human bodies,
but our human souls as well.
As we
light the fourth candle of Advent, traditionally the Candle of Peace, let us do
so with the knowledge that God will always trump our preparations and good
intentions with the covenant He makes with David and his people, the promise he
fulfills in Gabriel’s announcement to Mary.
Unlike the recipients of our gifts who are sometimes less than grateful,
God acknowledges every act made in His name, even those that have their root in
obligation and reluctance. He takes the
joy that is the best part of our preparation and He multiplies it, times
infinity and gives us The Gift, that cannot disappoint and can never be any
less than our wildest expectations. He
give us Himself.
May you
find peace in these last days of Advent and welcome the Christmas season with
an open and loving heart.
