Advent 4A + God's Heart of Stone + A & M C-L+ 12.18.22
God’s Heart of Stone
M. and A. Campbell-Langdell
All Santos, Oxnard/St
Paul’s Emmanuel, Santa Paula
Advent 4A + 12.18.22
(Isaiah
7:10-16; Psalm
80:1-7, 16-18; Romans
1:1-7; Matthew
1:18-25)
Recently, I (Alene) discovered and
downloaded some of the music from the Broadway musical, SIX. The premise of this musical is to tell the
story of the six wives of Henry the Eighth, beyond the childhood rhyme for
remembering what happened to each of them: “divorced, beheaded, died, divorced,
beheaded, survived.” Usually, history
focuses so much on the men in power that the women are relegated to the
background as ornament or side facts. “SIX” tries to tell the story of the
wives as full human beings, albeit in a modern pop style. In the story of Jane
Seymour, the story turns to her persistence in loving Henry despite their
struggles. Her song is called “My Heart of Stone,” and the refrain goes like this:
“You can build me
up, you can tear me down
You can try but I'm unbreakable
You can do your best, but I'll stand the test
You'll find that I'm unshakeable
When the fire's burnt
When the wind has blown
When the water's dried, you'll still find stone
My heart of stone”[1]
This is a fascinating image because
usually the term “heart of stone” usually refers to someone who is cold,
heartless. But instead, Jane Seymour expresses her devotion through these
words.
In the same way, I wonder if we sometimes look at God and think God has a heart
of stone- that God is cold and heartless to let us suffer as we do sometimes.
But what if we are the ones with traditional hearts of stone at times, too cold
to see God’s constancy with us always, even when things get tough?
We see a glimpse of this in the
story of King Ahaz today. King Ahaz is
facing a war that looks insurmountable.
Into the midst of his fear of his own and his people’s destruction,
comes the prophet Isaiah practically begging King Ahaz on God’s behalf to ask
for a sign, to ask for symbol of God’s presence and action in the midst of this
tragedy. We don’t know why Ahaz
refused. Perhaps it was own guilt—he
hadn’t been the best of kings. Perhaps
he was afraid of what God might say.
What he tells Isaiah rings a bit too pious, “Oh no, I couldn’t ask God
for a sign. I wouldn’t presume to put
God to the test.”
One of the things that I love about
the music from the musical “SIX” is that it gives a voice to the women in the
story. They are not portrayed as perfect. They are human beings, with desires
and flaws and schemes. But they are also people with hearts to be broken and
who are trying their best to live authentically in a world that often sees them
as property, not as individual human beings.
In the genealogy of Jesus, which
comes before today’s passage in Matthew, we hear that Jesus has a pretty
interesting heritage, especially when it comes to the women in the story. Tamar
and Rahab and others make up this list of women whose stories, when told, have
painted them in a colorful light. But as one commentator I listened to this
week pointed out, the women in Jesus’ story that are sometimes gossiped about
don’t have colorful stories due to character flaws, but because they were
trying to survive in a world wherein the men treated them badly.[2]
And what do we see in today’s
gospel, but another man trying to sort out what to do with a woman! Joseph is
engaged to Mary, and has learned that she is pregnant. Well, that would be
unexpected! So, he is deciding how to respond. His first response may seem
honorable--sending her away quietly. But we can imagine how even that would
cause tongues to wag! Especially when a baby showed up later! So, God
intervenes! Not willing to let Joseph pass up this opportunity for grace, God
convinces Joseph to take her in. And to take the child in as his own. God had
already begun the process of dwelling with us in that decision, helping Joseph
to make a truly righteous decision, beginning to unwind the years of women’s
hurt and mistreatment by men in Jesus’ lineage.
But this goes deeper still. For the
Greek word that is used for both the “genealogy” of Jesus in Matthew 1:1 and the
“birth” of Jesus in Matthew 1:18 is genesis. I don’t think this is a
mistake. It is trying remind us of the book of Genesis, where humanity is
united with God in a garden and then experiences separation from God. And what
is Jesus here to do? The angel tells Joseph that Jesus’ mission will be to save
us from our sins. One of the possible definitions for sin here comes from the
Hebrew Bible’s understanding of sin as “the power that deceives humanity and
leads it to destruction.”[3]
What if humanity, following the events of Genesis, fell victim to the lie that
God was not with us? What if the sin that is so often seen as original is a
perception that God has a heart of stone? Jesus comes among us and reminds us
that the distance between us and God all these years was not on God’s part. We
are the ones with the hearts of stone that are cold, but God’s heart of stone
has been there with us, constant all these years.
When King Ahaz refuses God’s offer
of a sign, God gives one anyway. God
says to take a look at a new baby and know that the baby won’t be old enough to
eat solid food before the armies that seem so threatening now are gone. What stands out in this passage is the
miracle of the ordinary. A young woman
giving birth to a baby is hardly news, and yet, none of us who has a new baby
born into our family or into our broader circle of friends thinks it is
anything but news! We call and text and
email and post to Facebook and send out pictures in the Christmas
newsletter. We make special trips to see
this new little one and welcome them into the family.
For every spring, every new life,
every day that the world continues to turn is a reminder that God is with us,
that we have not been abandoned. For as
the Psalmist points out in Psalm 104, if God were to hide God’s face and take
away our breath, all creation would die (vs. 29). But the miracle goes beyond that. God doesn’t just keep the world going,
although that would be enough. God loved us enough to break through time and
space, to come and dwell among us in Jesus. God persists in giving us sign
after sign of God’s presence even when our human failings might get in the
way. God persists with King Ahaz. God persists with Joseph. God shows up with our human skin on, so that
we can be saved from the power that leads us to our destruction whispering lies
in our ears that God has abandoned us.
And as prepare to celebrate Jesus’ birth once again, may the far off
gurgle of laughter and the smell of newborn hair tear open for us once more the
veil of sin blinding us to God’s presence.
May we hear through the years God’s voice singing to us:
“You can build me up,
you can tear me down
You can try but I'm unbreakable
You can do your best, but I'll stand the test
You'll find that I'm unshakeable
When the fire's burnt
When the wind has blown
When the water's dried, you'll still find stone
My heart of stone.”
When the worst of life has come and gone, God’s love will
still be there. Unbreakable,
unshakeable, from birth to death to resurrection.
Amen.
[1]
Toby Marlowe, Lucy Moss “My Heart of Stone” from SIX: The Musical, 2017.
[2]
Joy J. Moore’s comment in: #876:
Fourth Sunday of Advent (A) – December 18, 2022 - Working Preacher from Luther
Seminary.
[3] Walter Bauer, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament
and Other Early Christian Literature, rev. and ed. Frederick W. Danker, 3rd
ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000), 51.
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