Father Thomas Welbers' Homily	Jump back to Homily Index
Fourth Sunday of Advent, December 22, 2002 Luke 1:26-38	Listen to Audio

For the past three Sundays, the first reading has been from the book of Isaiah, and I have been reflecting on the message of the second and third parts of Isaiah, speaking to the Jewish people exiled in Babylon 500 years before Christ, or returning from exile to a homeland that was in ruins, trying the rebuild their lives and their spirits.

I have reflected on the fact that the situation of the Jewish people returning from exile is not unlike our situation today, facing so many fears and dangers, conflict and violence in our society.  Isaiah’s message continues to speak hope, assuring us that God is our savior in surprising ways, and calling us to place our trust in him, not in our own desires, plans, and resources.

Today, the scene of the first reading shifts to a story about King David, which took place nearly 500 years earlier than the events we have been considering.  What is their relevance to the message of the Old Testament anticipation of the Messiah that we have been exploring?

The point that the history of King David that we find in the two books of Samuel and the prophecies of Isaiah have in common is that they were both written or compiled about the same time, during the restoration from exile, when the Jewish exiles needed all the encouragement they could get to keep up their faith in God and hope for the future.  While Isaiah looks to the future, the stories of King David look to the past, and in painting a very nostalgic and somewhat romanticized portrait of David, they give a model for what the future Anointed One – or Messiah – would be like.

In the reading we heard today, David has recently unified the twelve tribes of Israel as one people under himself as their king – no easy task, one that had never before been done, and wouldn’t last very long either.  But for the moment, they were united and at peace, and David wanted to set out to build a Temple to house the Ark of the Covenant, symbol of God’s presence.  God, through the oracle of the prophet Nathan, tells him “no” – and for a surprising reason.  God does not want David to build him a house; God wants to build David a house!  By “house” God did not mean a building, but a dynasty—descendants in which his spirit would live on forever.

After the Babylonian exile, the returning inhabitants of Jerusalem looked back on these stories of David with bitter nostalgia: it didn’t happen as expected at all!  Things began to fall apart because of the infidelities of Solomon, David’s son, and afterwards things only got worse with the kingdom splitting in two, yielding to idolatrous worship, and entering into unholy alliances with pagan neighbors –resulting eventually in destruction and exile.

But they could still recall the supposed glories of the past, and it gave them hope for the future.  When we read this today, we can see Jesus Christ prefigured here, but we have to admit that Jesus is not what they expect – in fact, he was far beyond what they could possibly imagine.

There is one word that makes it clear that God was not promising simply a human restoration of the way they thought things were under King David, but something altogether new.  This word is repeated in each of our readings today, as well as the responsorial psalm – the word is “forever.”  The reign of the new King, the Anointed of the Lord, would be without end.

We have a problem with “forever”; we simply cannot conceive what it really means.  Everything of our experience has a beginning and an end.  Even the universe itself, scientists say, had a beginning some ten to sixteen billion years ago, and will end in cold darkness billions of years from now.  A billion years is an inconceivable length of time – and yet it’s not forever.  Only once in my nearly 35 years as a priest did I officiate at the funeral of someone over 100 years old.  Quite a few were over 90, including both my parents.  You see how much anything in our limited experience falls short of “forever.”  Yet that’s what God promises.

Even though “forever” is not in our experience, it is in our desire.  We want good things never to end, even though we know they must.  And we often feel pain or sufferings goes on forever, even though we know that it too has an end.

As human beings, we are in an impossible situation: we are limited by the beginnings and ends of things, including our own earthly life, yet we desire “forever,” we desire eternity but we can’t achieve it.

That’s where the simple statement of the angel to Mary takes on such wonderful significance: “Nothing is impossible for God.”  If we truly believe that, it transforms our lives.  We follow the way of Christ not in order to win some reward, but because God has already given the promise of unending life.  We live the life God wants in order to open ourselves to the gift that God so passionately want us to receive.  And Jesus has shown us, in word and action, how to live the life that has no end.

© 2002 Thomas Welbers