For 17 months, you have heard me refer to the Rev. Fleming Rutledge as “The Beyonce of the Episcopal Church.” The comparison is a playful yet effective way to highlight her greatness as a preacher and theologian. I first met Fleming in 2015 as I was navigating a call to ministry and Fleming took the time to mentor me as a preacher and theologian with the challenge (mandate?) to ensure that every person in the congregation should feel that “a promise has been made to them”[i] by God.
While most pastors I have had throughout my life have been men, the most influential people in my faith journey have been women. On All Saints Sunday, I told the kids about one of my first Sunday School teachers, Mrs. Frank. But there was also Mrs. Crum, Lori, Billie, Rev. Gaye Smith, and Rev. Katherine Woodrow. Let’s not forget my mom, Glenda, and my grandmothers Sarah and Lucille. Two of my three favorite professors in seminary were women – Dr. Shively Smith and Rev. Dr. Valarie Bridgeman. If not for women taking the time to ensure that I understood the promise of God’s grace and the hope attached to that promise, I would not be here today.
The same is true for the Church. Dr. Jennifer Powell McNutt asks, “Who was among the last at the cross and the first at the empty tomb?” The answer is Mary Magdalene. Yet, as Dr. McNutt points out, Mary Magdalene’s story is often overlooked, misunderstood, or even scandalized by the Church. Without her faithfulness in going to care for Jesus’ body three days after the crucifixion, we would not have the Good News of Easter.
Similarly, in Advent and Christmas—distinct yet connected liturgical seasons—Mary, the mother of Jesus, stands as the central figure. Her faithful "Yes" to God allows us to experience both the longing of waiting and the joy of celebrating the Incarnation.
At first glance, Mary’s story appears straightforward: a young woman chosen by God, a mother caring for her newborn, and someone who will eventually fade into the background as Jesus steps into the spotlight. Mary is more than a supporting character in the life of Jesus. Despite the risks and uncertainties, Mary was the first to say “Yes” to God’s plan. Mary cared for the Savior of the World, nurtured him, lost him in the temple, taught him, and witnessed his miracles. She was there for the joyful moments, like the wedding at Cana, and she was there at the foot of the cross when all hope seemed lost.
Church tradition has given Mary the title of Theotokos – the God-bearer. The title affirms that the child Mary carried and gave birth to was fully God and fully human—a mystery at the heart of our faith. This title was not just an honor for Mary but a declaration about who Jesus is: the eternal Word of God who became flesh for our salvation.
God chooses to bring light into our darkness, strength in our weakness, good news in the midst of a world full of despair. The darkness of the last place anyone would expect the messiah of the world to hail from. The weakness of a womb. The despair of a world that has forgotten how to love God and one another.
As Theotokos, Mary becomes a bridge between heaven and earth, embodying God’s willingness to enter into the fullness of human experience. Her “Yes” to God’s plan made her the vessel through which the Incarnation took place, demonstrating that God chooses to work through human beings to accomplish divine purposes.
Each week of the four weeks of Advent traditionally carries a theme – hope, love, joy, and peace. As the bearer of God, Mary embodies these themes, bringing the hope, love, joy, and peace of God into the world. Throughout Advent, we will reflect on Mary’s faithful response and see how Mary illuminates the heart of Advent – a season filled with hope, love, joy, and peace. It is a time of longing for God's promised messiah and witnessing the fulfillment of that promise in the birth of her son, a time of great anticipation and joy.
We begin with the Annunciation, the moment the Angel Gabriel announces to Mary that she will be the bearer of the Son of God.
Engaged to Joseph, Mary is greeted by the Angel Gabriel, who says, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” “You will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom, there will be no end.”
God often disrupts our routines in transformative ways. Rev. Susan Robb, the author of The Angels of Christmas: Hearing God’s Voice in Advent, notes that Gabriel appeared to Zechariah during his daily priestly duties, and Catholic tradition suggests Mary was drawing water when she received her divine message. These interruptions remind us that God’s plans often emerge unexpectedly, turning ordinary moments into extraordinary ones.
The Angel Gabriel tells Mary that through her, the Savior of the world will begin his reconciliation and healing work. And Mary’s response?
“Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”
“Let it be.”
For many, Advent truly is a season of waiting and hoping.
As the days grow shorter, many wait and hope for daylight's return and the sun's warmth on their skin.
Children are waiting and hoping for gifts under the tree.
Pastors and church staff are waiting and hoping that the printer, paper folder, and coffee maker can hold on for a few weeks of an increased workload.
Others are waiting and hoping in more dire circumstances.
Some are waiting and hoping for a faster recovery from surgery.
There are parents waiting and hoping that this will be the last year their children go to bed hungry with the sounds of war echoing in the night.
Some will wait and hope for a different diagnosis than the one they received at their last doctor’s appointment.
While others are waiting and hoping for one more Christmas with their parent or even a child.
While the bright lights of inflatable snowmen can provide a brief relief from the darkness that looms, the darkness of the world is precisely where Mary’s boy steps into. Rev. Rutledge writes, “In the church, this is the season of Advent. It’s superficially understood as a time to get ready for Christmas, but in truth… Advent is the season that, when properly understood, does not flinch from the darkness that stalks us all in this world. Advent begins in the dark and moves toward the light—but the season should not move too quickly or too glibly, lest we fail to acknowledge the depth of the darkness. As our Lord Jesus tells us, unless we see the light of God clearly, what we call light is actually darkness: ‘How great is that darkness!’ (Matt. 6:23). Advent bids us to take a fearless inventory of the darkness: the darkness without and the darkness within.”[ii]
It is baffling that Mary is often only remembered during Advent or what could be described today as cameo appearances throughout the gospels. The tradition of the Church tells us that after Jesus’ Ascension, Mary settled in Ephesus, in a home in the hills above the city. In the ancient city, ruins of The Church of Mary remain—a standing monument to the Theotokos.
After the Protestant Reformation, the veneration of Mary and other saints held less significance for those outside the Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches. This is why, traditionally, Protestant churches do not have icons of Mary or other saints in our sanctuaries. Still, Mary’s “Yes” to be the bearer of the Incarnation, the bearer of the hope of God for all creation, remains good news despite our tendency to reduce Mary to a supporting role.
I promised Fleming that every sermon would carry a promise, so here it is: Mary’s “Yes” came in the face of danger and uncertainty. We know her fiancé considered ending their engagement, jeopardizing both Mary’s life and her child’s. With the darkness of the world before her, Mary said “Yes” to the hope of God. This is the same hope the church carries into the world's darkness. Hope rooted in the promise of God to renew every corner of creation, the promise of peace that comes as a response to the grace of God and not the tip of the sword, and the promise that when the darkness of the world feels like it is too much that we can cling to the hope of God. The promise that shines a light into the darkness and steps into the darkness. The hope of our God, who promises to return and make all things new.
[i] Rutledge, Fleming. Advent: The Once and Future Coming of Jesus Christ. Page 27.
[ii] Rutledge, Fleming. Advent: The Once and Future Coming of Jesus Christ
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