Joyful anticipation

 This is my homily for today, the 4th Sunday of Advent, Cycle C.  The readings for today are here.

“What does she look like?”  My wife Therese asked me that question, many years ago now.  “What does she look like?”  I’d like to take a few minutes to explain why she asked that question, and what it has to do with this story we just heard of the meeting of Mary and Elizabeth, and also with this season of Advent.

The story I’m going to share with you is the story of the birth of our oldest child.  It began on a workday when my wife Therese was in the ninth month of her pregnancy.  We both had come home from work.  She was feeling tired and went to lie down.  I was making some dinner for the two of us when she came into the kitchen and announced that her water had just broke.  

She hadn’t given birth before.  She was excited and nervous, and my nerves were jumping and jangling, too.  I drove her to the hospital.  For the first nine or so hours, she was in labor but seemingly didn’t make much progress.  Then, in the early morning, one of the nurses figured out the baby was facing the wrong way.  So they paged the obstetrician.  The doctor arrived, assessed the situation, and concluded that Therese needed an immediate C section.  I know most of you know that a C section, a Caesarean delivery, is surgery.  So the medical staff sprang into action: a nurse was sent to find the anesthesiologist who was on call, and my wife was wheeled into an operating room.  

To my surprise, the doctor asked me if I’d like to be present for the surgery.  I didn’t know they let civilians like me do that, but I quickly agreed, so they gave me a mask and I followed her into the room.

They must have used a local anesthetic on Therese because she was awake through the whole procedure.  But they put up a sort of visual barrier of cloth or paper between her head and abdomen, so she couldn’t see what was going on.  But I watched the whole thing.  The doctor cut open Therese’s abdomen, and after a good deal of business with scalpels and clamps, and lots of blood, the doctor reached into my wife’s belly, and pulled out our daughter.  I think my jaw dropped.  I’d seen a few things in life, but I’d never seen that before.  

I’m telling you this story because there was a particular moment that I want to highlight.  As I watched our daughter being lifted, naked and dripping, out of my wife’s body and into the world, my poor wife, lying flat on her back, still with the visual barrier in front of her, couldn’t see a thing.  So Therese asked me, “What does she look like?”     

“What does she look like?”  Such a simple question, but so much behind it.  Therese had lived in close communion with this other person inside her for more than eight months.  She had felt the baby moving inside her – she knows what it feels like to have an infant leap in her womb.  And she had experienced all the changes that happened in her own body during the pregnancy.  And she was diligent about all the care and precautions and doctor visits.  She got through all the discomfort and tiredness.

For nearly nine months, Therese had been anticipating this moment, when our little child would come into the world.  That was nearly nine months of joyful anticipation.  She wanted to see her little girl. 

“What does she look like”?  That’s what a person in that situation asks who is filled with joyful anticipation.  Of course, Therese didn’t want to just see the baby: she wanted to be with the baby, cuddle the baby close to her.  Hold the baby and love the baby.  We’d been waiting and waiting for this child to appear.  What does she look like?  What is she like?  What will she be like?  We can’t wait to find out.  That’s joyful anticipation.

That scene in today’s Gospel reading, with Mary and Elizabeth, those two expecting mothers, coming together, is a scene of joyful anticipation.  Even the child, John, not even born yet, is leaping for joy at the coming of Jesus.  With the help of the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth intuits that great things are happening.  She is reading the signs.

I learned recently that the name Elizabeth means, “God has solemnly promised.”  Her very name is a sign that God doesn’t forget his covenant with us – he keeps his promises.  And in today’s Gospel passage, those promises are being kept, via two pregnant women.  For reasons known only to himself, God gave Mary and Elizabeth the opportunity to play roles in his plan of salvation.  These two women are not only seeing, but experiencing and feeling, signs and wonders about them.    Angels appearing!  Becoming filled with the Holy Spirit!  Something great is on the move – something wonderful is about to happen.  No wonder these women are filled with joyful anticipation.

If you’ve ever journeyed with an expecting mother through her pregnancy, as a spouse or parent or sibling or child, or another friend or family member, then you’ve got a good idea of what this season of Advent is really about: joyful anticipation.   The excitement and expectation we feel about a baby coming into our lives – that echoes in some way, the joy and excitement of the Advent season.  

Or if a pregnancy isn’t in your life experience, there are other forms of joyful anticipation.  Waiting for your date to pick you up can be a time of joyful anticipation.  Carly Simon composed her hit song, “Anticipation”, during the 15 minutes she waited for Cat Stevens to pick her up for a date.

Standing at the head of the aisle, waiting for the music to start and your bride to appear – that’s joyful anticipation.  I can vouch for that.

Waiting for your son to come home from college for the holidays – that’s joyful anticipation.  I can vouch for that, too.

A young child in the month of December, waiting for Christmas to finally get here -that’s joyful anticipation.

Mary and Elizabeth share this moment of joyful anticipation: Mary is bearing the child that all of Israel has been waiting for – that all of us have been waiting for.  What will he be like? What will he do? What is going to happen?  They don’t know, but they have reason to anticipate that it will be amazing.

Jesus is on the way, so the thing to do is to get ready, and to get excited.  It’s a time to experience hope and great joy.  Jesus is coming.  Every day, he’s coming.  Are you excited?