Advent 4C (Luke 1:39-45(46-55))

For this fourth Sunday of Advent, I invite us to read silently and then recite aloud the poem Annunciation by Scott Cairns. Here's the link where Malcomb Guite reads the poem: 
​https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/2016/12/04/annunciation-by-scott-cairns-2/
 
Annunciation by Scott Cairns
 
Deep within the clay, and O my people
 very deep within the wholly earthen
 compound of our kind arrives of one clear,
 star-illumined evening a spark igniting
 once again the tinder of our lately
 banked noetic fire. She burns but she
 is not consumed. The dew lights gently,
 suffusing the pure fleece. The wall comes down.
 And – do you feel the pulse? – we all become
 the kindled kindred of a King whose birth
 thereafter bears to all a bright nativity.
 
“Deep within the clay…the wholly earthen compound of our kind” takes us back to the essence of being human. It recalls the scene in Genesis:
 
“...then the LORD God formed man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the man became a living being.” (Genesis 2:7)
 
Malcolm Guite offers insight into the key verb ‘arrives’ from the poem’s first sentence. He writes, “Advent is a season that looks for a coming, for an arrival, and ‘arrives,’ in that present continuous tense, sees its fulfillment. And what arrives is ‘a spark igniting once again.’ The Incarnation, which begins with this annunciation to Mary, is about arriving once again at the place where we started—the whole, good, original blessing of that Genesis moment, evoked by the poem’s opening.” (Waiting on the Word, p. 20)
 
This poem beautifully leads us into today's Gospel lesson, which gives us the original context for the Hail Mary prayer. These words are taken from Elizabeth, the mother of St. John the Baptist:
 
“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.
 Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
 Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners,
now and at the hour of our death.”
 
While this prayer is traditionally directed to Mary, seeking her intercession, it holds a deeper meaning that reveals the mystery of Jesus’s coming. But it also extends to each of us. Mary embodies what it means to be a Christian—bearing God’s presence within. Rather than viewing Mary as the only bearer of God—Theotokos—we might consider this a call for all of us to carry God’s presence within. We, too, bear the breath of God and feel that divine pulse within us. Like Mary in the poem, and like the Burning Bush, we burn with God's presence but are not consumed.