Temple of flesh and blood
By Debbie Blue
Gospel Reading: Luke 1:26-38
For Sunday, December 18, 2011: Year B—Advent 4
I’m never sure how a story as wild and pagan sounding, a story that resonates with myths way older than Christianity, a story with traces of fertility goddesses, Egyptian sun gods etc., etc., makes it into our Christmas celebrations so calmly that we hardly blink.
Patriarchal fundamentalist households admit the pregnant mother, birthing god into their households at Christmas. So do syncretistic Brazilian jungle cults and uptight Swedish Lutherans. It’s so outrageous, and beautiful, and somehow unifying.
A Bold and Remarkable Narrative
In terms of the religious institution: The earliest followers of Yahweh (as both Biblical and archeological evidence suggests) worshipped both male and female aspects of their divinity. The Queen of Heaven was especially popular—the “Consort of Yahweh," the “Beloved Mother,” the “Companion at Birth.”
But she really bothered the folks that were trying to solidify monotheism. Early editors of the scripture much maligned her and fairly successfully rid the official Hebrew religion of her presence. The Deuteronomists were pretty adamant about cleansing the temple of her worship. Her traces, however, remain throughout the Biblical texts.
A Temple of Flesh and Blood
It’s astonishing that in the story of the gospel of Jesus Christ right off, first thing, God becomes incarnate through the womb of the mother. The purists would be going crazy! Though they tried and tried to keep the “Queen of Heaven” out of the purified Temple, in this story Mary’s womb becomes the Temple out of which Yahweh will emerge clothed in flesh. Is is a very shocking turn for the Scripture to take. Shocking and beautiful.
Read Luke 1:26-38 side by side with the 2 Samuel text. I’m not sure how the lectionariers meant it, but it seems like a meaningful juxtaposition of texts. The Samuel text is all men and kings and structures and power—they want to build a house for God? They imagine it is amongst these things. Mary becomes the “house” that will build “god” out of her cells and blood—in her womb, with her breast milk. Solomon (the King) does build the temple and keeps it close to the heart of empire (locking God in if you will). Mary (the peasant girl) births God into the world and then lets go.
Putting Down the Mighty
In the story of Mary, God has really put down the mighty from their thrones, both in terms of political and religious institution. The High Priest loses his place. The righteous King is a baby. It’s not through the system that runs the world that God comes at Christmas.
The system confines our imaginations in shopping malls and power struggles. This story is about something new being born. God hovers over the water in Genesis and creates life. The spirit of God hovers over Mary and grace comes into the world. Sorting out precisely or systematically what it means might not be quite the way to get at it, but surely the story certainly suggests that God is not an objective distant observer.
The Hardest Question
The mythical qualities of this narrative are enormous. Are facts just too sterile to embody the Word?
Debbie Blue is one of the founding pastors of House of Mercy in St. Paul, MN, the author of Sensual Orthodoxy and From Stone to Living Word. She lives on a farm with her family, friends, and animals
