A temple of flesh, not stone
by Jeremiah Bartram on 14/12/09 at 8:23 am
In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.” Luke 1, 39-45, Reading for 20 December, the Fourth Sunday of Advent.
Commentators
NRSV: “Elizabeth’s being filled with the Holy Spirit may also acknowledge the presence and the power of the Holy Spirit at work in relation to the unborn John in her womb.” V. 43: “Prior to his birth Jesus is designated as Lord.”
Hardy is more expansive. First, he explains that, in a manner consistent with divine promises received in the Old Testament, the angel of the Annunciation offers Mary a sign – the conception of John in her cousin Elizabeth’s old age (although Mary does not ask for one). So it is in response to this promise of a sign that Mary sets out “in haste” for the mountainous country around Jerusalem – a three-day journey.
The “coincidence” of Elizabeth’s baby stirring at the moment of Mary’s greeting “gave the scene a new turn,” he says. “’Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit’ – Luke’s way of indicating a sudden gift of prophecy – and declared that her baby had not merely stirred but had ‘leaped for joy’. The Greek word used here for ‘joy’ was rich with scriptural overtones: it suggested the joy of the people of God in the presence of the long-awaited ‘Lord’, the Messiah.”
Gospel for gays
The first striking thing about this story is the independence and courage of Mary. She makes a three day journey, on foot: a young woman, presumably alone and without protection in a land and that was far from safe. I think of Bernadette of Lourdes, I think of Joan of Arc or Catherine of Siena or Therese of Lisieux: those ardent virginal souls, who practise a radical freedom and are unafraid.
It is the same freedom that allowed her to say “yes” to the angel of the annunciation. It is the freedom that Jesus himself will practise – in his decisiveness, in his teaching, in his mission of healing and casting out – and in his choice to go to Jerusalem for the last time.
The second thing is the joy of Mary, Elizabeth and the unborn John. All the Advent readings are about joy, despite the apocalyptic language of the first and second weeks. Joy at the coming of Jesus, God-With-Us; joy at the end of waiting, the end of exile; joy at the ongoing presence of Jesus in our lives.
This reading is about joy shared.
These two women – one old, the other young – receive a treasure from God in private. By sharing that private treasure, isolation is broken; the moment of redemption is shared, and the act of sharing causes an increase of grace.
John’s conception was marvelous, perhaps miraculous; now the mystery deepens, as he is called, and responds to the call, even before he is born.
**
There is a long tradition in both the Eastern and Western church that portrays Mary as the Temple of the Holy Spirit, the Temple of the new Torah, the incarnate Word. One of the traditional icons of Mary shows her as a little girl, being presented in the temple, and the image is paradoxical: the true temple – Mary – is being received into the established temple of stone.
In this reading, the unborn John salutes the unborn Jesus and the mother of John is the first to recognize who Mary is: the new temple, a temple of flesh, not stone. Thirty or so years later, John the prophet will offer a path to God that is an alternative to the one offered by the temple of stone, soon to be destroyed by the Roman army. It will be a path of radical simplicity, accessible to sinners (specifically, tax collectors and soldiers), a path that does not involve the temple cult of sacrifice.
Rather, it will require a baptism of repentance for sin, and the practice of justice. And John’s path will prepare for the new dispensation, the new Way of Jesus that will replace the temple of stone.
This gospel tells us that John’s first and formative encounter with Jesus was here, right in the womb. Further, it is the lived experience of two women, Mary and Elizabeth, that prefigures that path.
And the implication of John’s witness has to be stated: just as God’s grace can, and did, bypass the sacrificial religion of the temple – indeed, it anticipated its destruction; so also God’s grace can bypass the certainties and authorities of current church structures.
Grace is not and cannot be confined. A virgin can conceive, as can a post-menopausal woman. A prophet can be called, and can respond to the call, before birth. Salvation can come to us, ordinary people, sinners all, outside the temple cult.
**
The gay perspective.
I see a possible parallel between the joyful sharing that lies at the centre of this gospel and coming out: the central experience by which we gay people understand to we are, accept that reality as central to our identities, and then act according to our understanding. Coming out is our response to God’s call to a life that is outside the norm.
Official church teachings would consider it a call to vice – indeed, not a call at all, a delusion, a temptation. We know differently.
As this reading demonstrates, grace is not confined or controlled.
For the gay Catholic, coming out is a call to authenticity, to a community of sharing. It’s a call to bear witness to the immense creativity of God in giving us different sexualities. It’s a call to participate in the transformative power of love by harnessing those very differences for the good of all: that is, to help build up the Kingdom of God.
