In late November we marked the life of my Grandpa Shenk. On that Saturday, I, with my cousins and siblings, carried his coffin to the grave on a hill overlooking Lancaster County farmland and not a mile from where he lived much of his 86 years. Since it was late fall and the leaves were off the trees, the house and barn were visible across the fields. Earl Eugene Shenk was born in 1935 and I met him soon after I was born in August of 1982. He was a person of deep and practical faith.
As a grandchild, I mostly piece together memories but the picture is one sincere faith and straightforward following of Jesus. While Jenn and I were in college in Chicago, he and Grandma came to visit us the whole way from Pennsylvania—for just a few hours. His need to get back to work at E. E. Shenk and Son’s, -the family business grinding and hauling company was, at least in my experience, just something he did—he worked, and with joy.
He had one of those read-the-whole-Bible-in-a-year editions. I remember it as extremely worn from use. (I learned at the memorial service that at age fifty he started to read through the Bible once a year and continued this until recently). At his memorial most who spoke remembered his commitment to and joy in his family, work, and faith. His faith was often embodied in his service to the church.
In this church he had served as a deacon for 40 years and as far as I knew sat in exactly the same spot for much of that time. As a child, I would go to this spot every Sunday after the service to say hi and get a mint. On November 18th my family rushed to see him since we knew his time was short. As we said goodbye, my aunt told me he had been telling everyone in the hospital that he was ready to see Jesus.
Jesus. The coming baby, the coming again risen Christ. The one demonstrated—made manifest—by the cloud of witnesses—regular saints, embodying in some way the extraordinary reality of Emmanuel—God with us.
We recently celebrated Advent—Waiting for the coming of the Messiah. We waited, again, for the coming of the sweet baby Jesus. The one whose mother celebrated his coming by a radical song of the rich being overthrown and the powerful brought low. The one, who later writers see hinted at and described throughout the Hebrew Scriptures—what churches have often called the Old Testament.
Mary’s song in Luke chapter one—the Magnificat—is not specifically or explicitly a call to action, for us to join in the struggle for justice and turning the world around. It is an exclamation and celebration of praise for what God will do. A divine turning the world around and inverting our assumptions of power and prestige. That God is the actor in this hymn of praise does not make it safe (for some) or detached from worldly matters. The implications will be seen on earth—and this is the work of God.
That this particular passage is not quite a call to action does not diminish the work we’ve been given. The broader witness of scripture certainly invites and calls us to the action of redressing inequality and injustice, of caring for those in need. From the individual to the global, this is vital ministry. Additionally, there is strong support and currents of the idea that we are called to join with God in God’s work. While there are specific things that only God can do, in a general sense we join in this. For example, though Jesus reconciles in the ultimate sense, we are given a “ministry of reconciliation” and are ambassadors of this reconciliation. In 2 Corinthians 5:17-20, we read,
So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.
The Church of the Brethren has even embedded this model of co-ministry with Jesus in the long-standing tagline—“Continuing the Work of Jesus, peacefully, simply, together. And this is not in just one part of the Bible but throughout. Argentinian biblical scholar, René Krüger, names the Gospel of Luke as one of the New Testament examples of a “deeply rooted social message” and these verses as a core passage.
However, in this specific passage with the specific song of praise and rejoicing, Mary is pointing to the action of God. Divine action. Yahweh showing up again. Mary is clearly involved as a participant with agency in a larger story, history, and future. However, her focus is on God’s action through and on behalf of her and her community. Kruger observes that this passage starts with the individual and community and expands to the community. “What God does to one humble person is projected onto all humble.”1 God will lift up and cast down.
I often worry that to say “God will act” leads us to a passive waiting. If God will take care of it, might we feel comfortable in inactivity? My job in the Office of Peacebuilding and Policy (which could probably be characterized as being a staff activist), my own internal agitation, and a Church of the Brethren service focus plus my Lancaster county working roots, seem to push against waiting. I want to do something. Get others to do something. While I’m not going to recant on this, I do notice a gap in my spiritual life. Being truly biblical invites us into the fray and the struggle but also to deep prayer and waiting and trusting in God’s presence. Mary understands that God’s presence and acting is past, present, and future. God is high above but also among the people.
Not only will God act in a world-turning and rending way, but this is for healing, restoration, and redemption. Not only is God getting things done but in Christmas God comes close. Jesus—in the words of the Gospel according to John—is the Word of God, is God, having been present at creation now enters into the neighborhood—into a geography occupied by the Romans. Coming face-to-face brought confrontation and conflict. There is a shaking up—of expectations and theological assumptions alike.
This is the great mystery. One that theologians and preachers have sought to understand and describe for centuries. An elusive mystery but at the same time curiously straightforward and comforting. That the Almighty came close, joining in humanity and suffering and joy. That the Creator of all things experienced suffering and loss and met the needs of everyday folks with compassion and care. This makes sense. God is not far-off but intimately with us. We hold both the mystery and the common—straightforward, simultaneously. It may feel like these are in tension or that they are contradictory. However, I, at least, have felt this tension more acutely when I tried to be in control. I notice my discomfort when I try to be in control by having a definitive answer or understanding. While God is not beyond the possibility of description, God is also not contained or controlled by our descriptions and understanding.
Jeremiah and other prophetic and poetic books in the Hebrew scriptures stretch between events of their time and those yet to come. Writers in the New Testament and throughout church history readily interpreted these Messianically—that is, as pointing to Jesus, the Messiah.
Our passage in Jeremiah reads,
The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: “The Lord is our righteousness.
There is an expectation of renewal in that moment but the Messiah, from the line of David, will bring the ultimate renewal.
In Luke, we have the other end of expectation and waiting. There was waiting and expectation for the coming of the Messiah and then, upon his departure, a waiting for the return. In the Gospel of Luke we read,
There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.
At all times in history, one could have said such signs of turmoil and disruption were evident. I won’t recount a litany of woes, but I imagine your mind jumps to any number of present realities when you hear these words. When we read of this roaring, fear, and foreboding it is easy to imagine this is written about now. Many days and much of my day in the Office of Peacebuilding and Policy seems to revolve around these events. At this moment we are in the midst of setting up another meeting with other faith-based advocacy, humanitarian, and peacebuilding organizations on Afghanistan. As a follow-up to an initial call yesterday, a colleague just sent an article outlining possible responses to stop the complete collapse of Afghanistan. As soon as I finish writing this post I’ll read and incorporate this thinking. Tomorrow, we have an event on the deteriorating security situation in Nigeria. Just before this a communication concerning ongoing work in racial justice. It seems clear that Luke was writing about now, right now.
However, Luke asserts that there will be no doubting once these arrive. This is not a call to theorize and postulate the ETA of Jesus but an exhortation to readiness. Like the buds on a fig tree (for those who know the timing of such things), it will be evident and a clear signal.
That this coming of the Christ is coming quickly requires that we be ready. No dilly. No dally (to quote a kid’s book about a little bear and the coming of winter). Though this coming is of the born, grown, having ministered, crucified, risen, and ascended to heaven Christ, the theme of anticipation and waiting aligns with the season of Advent. Eager expectation. Preparation. These things mark this season.
Luke concludes, “Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.”
In Hebrews 12:1-2, we read, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith…”
The coming Jesus brings the Divine presence close. The great cloud of witnesses—those who have gone before and those still with us—demonstrate, show the way, embody—what it means to be with God, close to the heart of the one who brought this world to life. This wondrous world of wildebeests and glowing red maple trees.
In Job 38:4-7, God asks the book’s namesake,
Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
Tell me, if you have understanding.
Who determined its measurements—surely you know!
Or who stretched the line upon it?
On what were its bases sunk,
or who laid its cornerstone
when the morning stars sang together
and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy?
This great wisdom and power, mysteriously present in a coming baby. Mysteriously made manifest in the lives of Jesus’ followers. Regular folks filled with the Spirit. Clearly, we aren’t perfect, and neither was Grandpa Shenk nor those in the great cloud of witnesses. Nonetheless, they bear witness. Luke urges us to be alert. Prayerfully alert, keeping watch for the coming Christ, the baby Jesus. The Almighty again comes near.
There is a second dynamic tension present here, beyond the questions of immanence and transcendence or mystery and straightforward understanding and God’s action versus our action. I noted that Mary’s song—the Magnificat—is not a specific call to action. While primarily about God making the world right, it does provide a glimpse of what this world looks like. This leads back to an earlier point, though God is at work, we are still called to join in the work of proclaiming and embodying the Gospel of Peace. In this too there is a dynamic tension. The call and vocation to address large “system” level need such as climate change, militarism, mass incarceration, and massive food insecurity. There is also a call and vocation to meet the immediate needs of individuals and communities around us.
Given my own sense of call and employment with the denomination, I lean heavily towards the former and find individual interactions or needs easier to pass by. The other day, someone asked us for money for food as we passed by in our vehicle. Our three-year-old child asked what happened and we said we didn’t have any cash. While this was true there is also the uncertainty of the best and appropriate response to this real state of need. A few days later he was thinking about this and remembered that he had found a penny in his room. He said, “I have some coin-money cash, they can have that.” While his understanding of macroeconomics and supply-chain disruptions may have been minimal, this three-year-old had a genuine impulse to share and help in the way that he could.
As we continue into the new year, may we explore and live into these dynamic tensions of faithful discipleship. May we live well in action and trust in God’s action. May we discern rightly and live boldly in witness to the many and varied needs we encounter immediately next to us and globally.
- René Krüger, “Luke’s God and Mammon, A Latin American Perspective,” in Global Bible Commentary, eds. Daniel Patte, J. Severino Croatto, Nicole Wilkinson Duran, Teresa Okure, Archi Chi Chung Lee, (Abingdon: Nashville, 2004), 396.
“The Magnificat presents God’s option for the humble and God’s inversion of the relationship between power and property as reflecting God’s mercy and promises. God’s action in favor of Mary and all the poor announces the authentic alternative based on Jesus as the only savior, instead of (and inverting) what is offered by the powerful and the rich who do not save and whose reigns will be destroyed.”
- All biblical references are to the New Revised Standard Version.
Nathan Hosler is a pastor at the Washington City Church of the Brethren. For his employment, he directs the Office of Peacebuilding and Policy (the Washington Office) for the Church of the Brethren denomination. He has a BA in Biblical Language, MA in International Relations focusing on religion and peacebuilding, and a PhD in Theological Studies (working in theological ethics). Nathan likes to run long distances, bike commute in Washington DC, cook and try foods from around the world, and create and/or collect art.