Lesley and I were looking after one of the Children’s liturgy groups
on the first Sunday of Advent.
We started by asking the young people
what the Advent season is about.
Of course we were told it was the time of preparation for Christmas.
Practically, there is a lot of truth in this.
Liturgically, following the renewal after Vatican II,
there is there is quite a lot more to Advent than that.
Yes, ministers wear purple throughout Advent
and switch to white for the Christmas season.
This might suggest a dislocation –
marking a distinct division.
As we become more attuned to the liturgy,
we see this is too simple, too black or white,
well too purple or white, really.
The fourth Sunday of Advent acquired a very different feel
when the liturgy was renewed.
Prior to that, this Sunday had the repentance gospel:
Prepare a way for the Lord,
that we heard two weeks ago.
So, in that older rite,
there really was a dislocation between Advent and Christmastide.
In contrast, today’s gospel, from Luke, concerns the Visitation.
Mary, recently pregnant,
goes to see her cousin Elizabeth,
heavily pregnant.
Mary greets Elizabeth and
Elizabeth’s unborn child gives her a good kick,
causing her to cry out.
Then Elizabeth, inspired by the Holy Spirit,
interprets the encounter:
in words familiar to us from the ‘Hail Mary’
‘blessed are you among women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb’:
and later
the child in my womb leapt for joy.
The Visitation has its own feast day (on 31 May)
when we can, and should,
reflect on the numerous facets of this encounter.
However, on the fourth Sunday of Advent
we should attend to the central mystery.
That central mystery is that:
the Word of God is flesh in the womb of Mary.
This mystery, ‘the taking of flesh’, is called the Incarnation.
The same mystery occurs in the gospel on this Sunday
in the other two years of the cycle
and our attention was already directed to it
by the opening prayer of today’s Mass.
Pour forth, we beseech you, O Lord,
your grace into our hearts,
that we, to whom the Incarnation of Christ your Son
was made known by the message of an Angel,
The Latin word (caro, carnis) for ‘flesh’ or ‘meat’
lies behind the English words
carnivore and carnage,
both of which have a very ‘red’ feel to them.
We should not be afraid of that wholly material, messy, sense
when we find the same word within the name this mystery.
Incarnation.
This fleshiness goes to the heart of our understanding
of the fundamental communication of God with us,
not as Word appearing to be flesh,
but Word made flesh,
flesh able to be battered and bruised.
Humanity like ours,
offered, as the Letter to the Hebrews says,
to make us holy,
to draw us into the life of God:
for that is what God wants, that is his will.
A few weeks ago, on the feast of Christ the King,
we heard Jesus say to Pilate
I was born for this,
I came into the world for this:
to bear witness to the truth
I hear a distinction here,
a distinction between Jesus being born
and Jesus coming into the world.
On Tuesday, on Christmas Day,
we will celebrate Jesus’ birth, His nativity.
Today, on the fourth Sunday in Advent,
we celebrate His coming into the world, His Incarnation.
Before the baby in the manger, we have the baby in the womb.
We still wear purple,
but we should not let that obscure the fact that liturgically,
though we are waiting for a birth,
we are already ‘in the know’, with Mary, Elizabeth and John.
The momentous coming of Immanuel, God-with-us,
dates not from a birth
but from the Holy Spirit overshadowing Mary.
In every Mass we are visited by God-with-us.
Not in the virgin’s womb,
but in the assembly of the priest and people,
in the scriptures,
and, most especially, under the appearance of bread and wine.
In this Mass, as we pray, as we approach communion,
let us take our lead from Elizabeth and John,
by knowing how honoured we are to be visited,
and by being full of joy.