Mary and Joseph and the cry of a tiny babe

Advent 3 Talk at St Bride's By Jon Jelfs

The Canadian singer/songwriter Bruce Cockburn has a great advent song Cry of a Tiny Babe who chorus goes:

Like a stone on the surface of a still river Driving the ripples on forever Redemption rips through the surface of time In the cry of a tiny babe

This ripple, the continuing impact of Jesus, is what Brian McClaren calls “perpetual advent” and this is my theme today – perpetual advent through the cry of a tiny babe, nurtured through the relationship between Mary and Joseph.

I love advent, I find this time of the year so inspiring. It may be cold, wet, grey, freezing, the deciduous leaves have fallen – brown crumpled aerofoils of energy spent – but at advent we enter a time of waiting – a pregnant pause containing a growing gestating expectancy of newness and change in the new year and spring to follow.

But what of Mary and Joseph? However we understand the gospel writings, literally or not, as with all sacred texts that have come to us through history, they are full of meaning and carry wisdom. As I read these advent verses again recently I thought of Joseph – in some ways an almost insignificant character in the story. And yet he portrays some remarkable qualities. What qualities does it take to nurture a child who will drive ripples on forever? When I think of the role of Mary and Joseph in bearing and nurturing that child I am filled with admiration and thankfulness.

In the case of Mary an extraordinary willingness to align herself with the purposes of God: “be it unto me according to your will”. In the case of Joseph and extraordinary “waking up”.

Notice the words in Matt 1:24: “when Joseph awoke from sleep he did as the Lord commanded him”. You see, I think sacred texts work on many levels. On the one hand Joseph simply had a dream at night and woke up in the morning. He ‘awoke from sleep’. But if we have ears to hear, we may realise that Joseph ‘woke up’ in a deeper way too. He had an awakening in which he realised that he and Mary were part of a bigger story, a bigger picture, a continuing unfolding purpose. This dream (and similarly with a total of four dreams that Joseph had, I think) and the awakening that followed led to at least 3 things in Joseph’s life: trust, willingness, obedience. I wonder whether the spiritual path can nurture the same things in us: an awakening to a bigger story and purpose, and the presence in us of trust, willingness and obedience.

Of course we progressive modern people may not give much credence to dreams. But in the ancient world and in the sacred texts, key moments in history are marked by dreams. The modern way is to question everything and to believe that that which is real is limited that which can be researched by the instruments of science and gain a robust evidence base. This scientific approach is something to celebrate as it helps to guide us from hearsay to truth.

 But then when we go to sleep at night we enter a whole new world. We become subject to stirrings that we may not welcome, the wild events of another less rational state of consciousness in which state we spend about a third of our lives. The nice controlled rational world gives way to words, images and dramas that come unbidden.

I am so glad that Joseph was open to his dreams. Have you noticed how you can be receptive or unreceptive to dreams? At various times in my own life, especially when I have trying to understand my own psychological and emotional life, I have consciously allowed myself to take note of dreams. At those times dreams become more memorable and can take on quite a significance.

Now of course, in the case of Joseph it may be that these dreams are useful constructs of the gospel writer that help to fit the life of Mary and Joseph into a particular interpretation of the prophetic scriptures. But what if? What if Joseph was actually a man, a remarkable man, who was able to listen and willing to respond to inner promptings in the form of dreams? What if he was a man who discovered that the state of consciousness we call sleep is one in which we can sometimes be receptive to the sacred? Perhaps he realised that dreams can occasionally be ways in which the Divine can intrude into our lives displacing the usual order of things. Dreams are notable because they contain not reasoned discourse, but appear to bypass the rational mind perhaps speaking the language of the heart and soul. Maybe dreams can be one of those subtle ways of the Spirit that may not be so welcome in a rational culture.

Let us give thanks for Joseph who, because he was open to the language of dreams, did not abandon Mary and perhaps saved the life of Jesus. Jesus was able to grow and be nurtured with parents who had woken up and accepted their role in the dream of God for a better future for people on earth.

And so now we can speak of a perpetual advent. In advent in which we celebrate the birth of Jesus, a pioneer of a new humanity and a new consciousness. A human being, one with God, born at the right time to initiate a new movement and a new vision. Not so much a religious movement but one that transcends religion: a way to be, a way to live in this world in harmony with each other, the planet and with our awareness of the creative Presence behind the purposeful evolution and unfolding of all things. This is the perpetual advent, the continuing possibility in every generation and in every life, to align ourselves with a bigger story, a bigger purpose, the dream of God. This is the good news of advent and Christmas. In the ‘cry of a tiny babe’ we are reminded that in our own weakness, vulnerability and inadequacy there is always the possibility of new birth and new creation. Through trust, willingness and obedience Christ can be born in us, and among us, and throughout the world eventually. Jesus the Christ, the Prince of Peace, born to two ordinary remarkable people just like you and me, Joseph and Mary. Jesus, the firstborn of a new generation of humanity characterised by love, non-violence and solidarity with all. Jesus the Saviour – come to save humanity from what it has become and guide it by example towards what it will be.

Like a stone on the surface of a still river Driving the ripples on forever Redemption rips through the surface of time In the cry of a tiny babe

Poem - Walter Brueggeman Dreams and Nightmares from his book Prayers for a Privileged People (Nashville: Abingdon, 2008) slightly adapted.

Last night as I lay sleeping,
    I had a dream so fair . . .
    I dreamed of the Holy City, well ordered and just.
    I dreamed of a garden of paradise, well-being all around and a good water supply.
    I dreamed of disarmament and forgiveness, and caring embrace for all those in need.
    I dreamed of a coming time when death is no more.

Last night as I lay sleeping . . .
    I had a nightmare of sins unforgiven.
    I had a nightmare of land mines still exploding, and maimed children.
    I had a nightmare of the poor left unloved,
                        of the homeless left unnoticed,
                        of the dead left ungrieved.
    I had a nightmare of quarrels and rages and wars great and small.

When I awoke, I found you still to be God,
    presiding over the day and night
    with serene sovereignty,
    for dark and light are both alike to you.

At the break of day we submit to you
    our best dreams
    and our worst nightmares,
    asking that your healing mercy should override threats,
    that your goodness will make our
    nightmares less toxic
    and our dreams more real.

Thank you for visiting us with newness
    that overrides what is old and deathly among us.

Come among us this day;
dream us toward
    health and peace,

we pray in the name of Jesus
    a child born to Mary and Joseph,

a perpetual advent among us.