“How Does A Weary World Rejoice? We Acknowledge Our Weariness” a sermon on Luke 1:1-23, Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19

Luke 1:1-23
Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19
“How Does A Weary World Rejoice? We Acknowledge Our Weariness”
Preached Sunday, November 26, 2023

Today we are starting a new worship & sermon series called “How does a weary world rejoice?” It's based on a line from the first verse of the Christmas carol, “O Holy Night.” The first verse goes (And I’ll say it, won’t sing it):

“O holy night, the stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of the dear Saviour’s birth;
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
'Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn;”

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices.

How does a weary world rejoice?

There are very few people that I have talked to who don’t acknowledge that we live in a weary world: personal loss, short days and dark nights, war and rumors of war, gun violence, strained and broken relationships, poverty, hate crimes…and so much that wears us down, that weighs heavy on our hearts.

So how does a weary world rejoice?

It may seem almost antithetical to rejoice in the midst of our weariness and grief. Whenever I preach at funerals, I like to start my sermon by acknowledging the range of emotions those gathered may be feeling that day. I often say something generally like this:

“I think it is important to take a moment and address and validate the range of emotions you may feel today. Today you will hopefully laugh as you remember the good and funny memories. And those are good to share and to laugh over. Those same memories may make you cry. You may experience bursts of anger or frustration, grief, anxiety...Whatever today brings, know that it is okay to feel what you feel and that you are surrounded today by love - you are not alone.”

Normally when I mention memories that may make people laugh - several do, a light chuckle in the midst of their weariness and grief. They are remembering something that makes them laugh, they are thinking of a memory of joy. Laughing and crying and laughing again…and maybe crying again. The joy and the grief intermingle almost naturally.

Joy is more than happiness or elation - it goes deeper. I won’t go too deeply into my definition of joy this morning but I prefer to think of joy as a sense of a deep trust in God. A sense of hope. Joy is “that thrill of hope” that the hymnist writes about. Trusting that the God that was born into this world in the form of Jesus will come against to save and redeem us. And when we trust in this hope, we have joy - and that can present itself as the ability to laugh, even in grief.

This is what we focus on in the season of Advent, these four weeks of preparation before Christmas. We are remembering the birth of Christ, yes, and we are looking towards Christ’s second coming when the work he began will be completed - and that is the source of our joy, the source of our rejoicing.

That brings us to our theme for this week, our first answer to “How does a weary world rejoice?” We acknowledge our weariness.

I already said that I don’t think any of us would be in denial that our world is weary…for all those reasons previously listed, all that happens in our world that breaks our hearts and the heart of God. So let us look at our Scriptures this morning and how we see reflected in them weariness, hope, and rejoicing.

Zechariah is weary from years of wanting a child and not having one. Weary from the long journey of infertility. Month after month, year after year, not having your hopes fulfilled. Those who have walked this path know how particularly painful and hard it can be. And I want to recognize how the Scripture narratives surrounding Advent and Christmas, of Elizabeth and John, of Mary and Jesus, of miraculous pregnancies and births - how these Scriptures can be particularly triggering and painful for those who have experienced infertility. If this is you, please know that God meets you in your weariness. And, in discussing these narratives in church throughout this season, if you need to excuse yourself to use the restroom, to tune me out, it’s okay. Take care of yourself and your heart.

And so, one day Zechariah is in the temple, fulfilling his priestly duties, and an angel appears before him and tells him, “Your prayer has been heard.”

His prayer for a child. How many years has he been praying that prayer and feeling like it wasn’t being heard? He was in the temple praying when the angel appeared for him - was he praying for a child at the moment? Taking the opportunity while he was in the holy of the holies to lift up his personal petition? Had this prayer worked his way into his litany of prayers that he always offered up? Was he praying with any hope that his prayer would be answered? Or at this point was he just going through the motions - a prayer he had said many times but not a prayer that he felt he had any hope of being answered, praying without hope.

Because his response to hearing his prayer has been heard and is being answered, is not one of rejoicing or gratitude - it is disbelief. And for that, the angel makes him mute until the birth of his son.

How often does the world’s weariness, our weariness, keep us from hoping, from believing that our prayers could be answered? Our prayers for love, for peace, for restoration, for a better world.

How often does the world’s weariness, our weariness, keep us from seeing all the ways our prayers have already been answered? All the love we already have. All the ways in which seeds of peace are being sown. All the ways in which, day by day, small act by small act, our world is being restored, being made better.

How often does the world’s weariness, our weariness, keep us from being our own answer to prayers, being the agents of love, peace and restoration for a better world. Acting even as we pray.

I’m not saying that we can’t or shouldn’t be weary - it’s the reality of our world. If we weren’t experiencing the weariness of the world at all, I’d be worried we’ve closed our hearts off to the pain and suffering in this world. This weary world should break our hearts - break them open, where there can be an outpouring of love and care. Break our hearts open rather than hardening our hearts to the pain - but also to the hope that our prayers could be answered - as could have been the case with Zechariah.

In our other Scripture reading this morning, the psalmist prays over and over: “Restore us, O Lord God of hosts; let your face shine, that we may be saved.”

There are people in the world today praying this prayer. In Israel-Palestine, in Ukraine, in the Mahoning Valley, in our congregation. In the midst of a weary world praying to God for help, for restoration.

Let us not lose hope that these prayers will be answered.

In the midst of a weary world,
God is still acting;
God is still listening;

God will still hold true to God’s promises to come again, and restore us all.

And so, in the midst of a weary world,
We can acknowledge our weariness,
While still praying, still hoping, still rejoicing.
May it be so. Amen.