Johnny Ace and Kali Verra: In the spirit of Ed "Big Daddy" Roth

 

 

During my pre-adolescent and adolescent years (early 60s) in the surf-drenched, Kustom Kulture of Southern California, my counter-cultural hero was Ed "Big Daddy" Roth. I had a fever for monsters and hot cars and  Roth was the cure. I sent for his free catalogs, order several of his shirts and prints, assembled his Outlaw car and Mr. Gasser by Revell, wore a Rat Fink "crash helmet" and even spray painted my own monster t-shirts in high school. Roth faded from the scene and I moved on to the hippie and psychedlelic culture of the late 60s.

 

In the succeeding decades not much was heard of Roth and his Kustom Kulture, until it all re-emerged in the public eye in the 80s (The first Rat Fink Reunion was in December 1977). Roth returned to my personal vision in the 90s and beyond through the whole re-emergence of Kustom Culture and Roth influenced artists. I could see Roth in such artists as the Pizz, Todd Schorr, Dirty Donny, and Jim Phillips. The Roth influence, and the further development of the Roth-image, was obvious in artists like Ed Newton and Robert Williams, who worked for Roth. Some artists took the Roth influence into a new time. Not many kept the look and feel of those early Roth years of custom airbrushed t-shirts.

 

Another artist who worked for Roth, Johnny Ace, has produced, along with his partner Kali Verra, the classic look of the Roth I remember from my adolescent years. Other artists have done Roth-style work, but not like the work of Johnny Ace and Kali Verra. The airbrush work, bright colors, and traditional Roth images of monster and rods of Ace and Verra reflect the spirit of Ed "Big Daddy" Roth like no other. Their work evokes images and feelings of the early emergence of my counter-cultural sentiments.

 

 



These are not photos: The Pencil Photorealism of Paul Cadden



Paul Caden, Scotland born, is a hyperrealist artist who works primarily in  pencil, but sometimes in charcoal. Each drawing takes 3-6 weeks each. His detail is amazing!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dirk Dzimirsky: Photorealist Graphite Artist

I have appreciated the tehnical skills of photorealist (or hyperrealist) artists going back to the beginnings of the movement in the 60s. I stood amazed before the large paintings of Chuck Close at a gallery on La Cienega in LA in 1968. My appreciation has grown over the years as photorealist artists have continued to exhibit techical skills that are almost unimaginable.

 

Artists are producing mind blowing pieces simply using graphite as a medium.The detail goes down to reproducing the very pores on human skin! Sometimes it sems like they use subjects that are an even greater challenge than a simple portrait, such as people covered with water! 

 

I would like to feature a number of these artists in some upcoming posts. One such artist is Dirk Dzimirsky, a German freelance illustrator. Of his work he says: "I work in a style that most people refer to as photorealism or hyperrealism. I use photos as references for my hyperrealistic drawings and paintings but I am not after a perfect reproduction at all. I use a photo very loosely once the proportions are established. I usually work as if I were drawing from a live model actually. I work with movement and expression, working fast on larger, more unimportant areas, and slowing down on parts that need more attention. I am actually improvising a lot. My main concern is to capture the essence and substance of forms in order to get close to a perceptible presence of the subject."

 

Disks blog and website: http://dzimirsky.blogspot.com/  http://www.dzimirsky.com/



 

Barry Moser: Book Illustrator

Barry Moser is an illustrator known for his print work. His prints are recognizable for their technical detail.  He illustrated Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass and over 300 other titles! Moser was awarded the Doctor of Fine Arts degree by Westfield State College, Westfield, Massachusetts (1999), the Doctor of Humanities degree by Anna Maria College, Paxton, Massachusetts (2001), and the Doctor of Fine Arts degree from Massachusetts College of Art, Boston, Massachusetts (2003). His most exquisite work are his illustrations of The Holy Bible, the first illustrator to do so, solo, since Gustave Dore in 1865. His magnum opus, THE PENNYROYAL CAXTON BIBLE. was published in October 1999.

 

 

M.U.S.I.C. Musicians Undermining Social Injustice Creatively: Stevie Wonder

A scratchboard I finished today for my M.U.S.I.C series. The series is posted on my art blog at: http://leosart.wordpress.com/

Jason D'Aquino: Miniaturist Illustrator

 

*Note- My posts over the past year and 4 months have been my weekly sermons while I was interim pastor at Zion Mennonite Church in Hubbard, Oregon. I some ways my sermons were my regular expressions of my artwork in words. Now that I have completed my verbal art I want to return to sharing my passion for the visual arts by posting more of my exploration into the world of art.

 

The other day I came across an artist that inrigued me with his style, medium, technique, and subject matter. Jason D'Aquino refers to himself as a miniaturist. He draws primarily using graphite and creates highly detailed renderings of icons of pop culture, common objects, and his own weird creations inhabited by smiling cartoonish children on old paper, ledgers, and pages from antique books. Most amazing are his detailed drawings on matchbook covers that are only a inch or so in size that he creates with high powered magnifiers.

The Hint Half-Guessed: Luke 2:1-20

*This sermon was preached at Zion Mennonite Church, Hubbard, OR on the fourth Sunday of Advent, December 23, 2012 and my last sermon at Zion.

In the womb of a mother I was molded into flesh. And my first sound was a cry like that of all. I was nursed in swaddling clothes. For there is for all humanity, even a king, one entrance into life (I).

The quote I just read sounds like a description from a familiar story. Immediately a scene pops into our heads. If I were to ask you----Who is this baby?----you could easily guess the person who is being described, right? The hints are all there. Mother. Birth. Swaddling clothes. King. A few words and our imaginations see the bright star overhead, smell the cattle, and feel the chill in the air. But, we had better be careful about jumping to such conclusions. Sometimes, we hear what we expect to hear.

It's like the Christmas story. We have heard the story repeated over and over so many times that we have trouble really hearing it. Hearing the story of the birth of the Christ child can be like having the answer to a riddle before it is told or knowing the punch line of a joke. And if you heard the plot of a mystery novel told over and over again, it would tend to lose its mystery. We are all too familiar with the Christmas story---census, Bethlehem, inn, manger, shepherds, star, magi, angels, baby, swaddling clothes. We know where the story is headed and that it is really a king who lies in the hay. And we come to the same conclusions each time we hear the story. Just like we probably concluded that the opening quotation about a king in swaddling clothes was describing the baby Jesus, when in fact the words are from a book known as The Wisdom of Solomon written about 30 BCE and is speaking of king Solomon. Who would have guessed?

In order to hear the Christmas story afresh, our preconceived notions need to be tossed out the window, if only for a moment; even if our conclusions are correct. We must approach the story as if with virgin ears. Only with a new hearing will the baby begin to stir once again from the inked pages of the Book.

Walk with me as we peek into the manger. Listen to the crunch of hay beneath your feet as you come to the manger, a room in the bottom of a home where the animals were kept. Outside the artist moon outlines the hills and cypress trees with a silver pen. Your hand touches the rough wood beams as you enter the manger room. There is a rustling of animals, skin to skin, as they notice you have intruded into their quiet sanctuary. The air inside is warm with animal breath. It smells of hay and cattle. You can hear the breathing of a sheep, whose bell clinks as she turns to look at you. You take another slow step closer.

The shades of light are brushed with the golden glow from an oil lamp, like in a Rembrandt painting. The silhouette of a person lies in the hay near the flickering light. It is a young girl. She couldn't be more than fourteen years old. Her lips are dry and stick together. Her breathing comes in short gasps. She looks exhausted. In her arms is a small bundle wrapped in strips of cloth. Next to her is a man with a peppered beard bending over the mother and child and speaking in a hushed tone. He turns to you and smiles proudly. The mother pulls back the strips of cloth to reveal to you the face of. ... a baby, just a baby, as earthy as the ground beneath your feet.

Who among us, looking into the fresh face of that baby, would have guessed that a king had been born? Who would have guessed that his squalling cry would one day proclaim words of hope to the hopeless? Could anyone ever have looked upon those tiny hands and guessed that they would touch the sick and make them whole? Given the hints, who would have guessed that this child born in the rags of poverty would someday be proclaimed the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords, a king who overturns all kingdoms?

Caesar Augustus never would have guessed that the Savior of the world was born. For he was the one proclaimed "Savior of the whole human race." He was the ruler to be honored as a god. Why would Caesar be looking for good news in a Jewish baby, seeing that it was decreed of Augustus in 9 BCE that "the birthday of the god ( Augustus) has been for the whole world the beginning of the good news." Emperor Augustus would never have guessed that this child in the manger was to become the Prince of Peace, when it was the Caesars who had brought the Pax Romana, the peace of Rome, a peace imposed by the might of an empire? It would be ludicrous to think: that a savior, a king who brings good news and peace, would be born under the thumb of Rome.

Caesar was too busy taxing his subjects to death, squeezing tribute from them like blood from a turnip. Tribute must be paid to the king. But, the real tribute will be rendered to another king by strange travelers from the East. Caesar never could have guessed that a poor Jewish child born under his oppressive reign would someday be a ruler mightier than all the Caesars.

How strange are the words spoken of this child: "He came unto his own, but his own received him not." Surely those who longed for the Coming One would have guessed that their hope lay in the hay. They had hints of the Messiah's coming inscribed in their papyrus scrolls. Their eyes squinted for signs of Christ's coming. This blessed hope kept them going as their bodies bent beneath the yoke of Roman oppression. But, no sage in his musings could have contemplated that such Wisdom would spring from a mother's womb. No prophet could have envisioned the reign of peace that was nestled in this child's bosom. No scribe could have deciphered that this baby would become a human scroll upon which God would write the Living Word. No Pharisee could have read in the eyes of this frail one and seen that he would speak to the deadness of the law and cause it to have new life. No zealot could have known that revolutionary words would come forth like swords from the tiny lips of the babe. No Essene, tucked away in their antiseptic, desert community, could have believed that this child would turn dining with sinners into an art. Who would have guessed from the hints given?

The most obvious hints came to some peasant shepherds and not to the power brokers of the day. They got the "inside line" on the babe. The hint was a shout from heaven. An angel brought the hint with these words:

I bring you good news of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is the Messiah, the Lord (Luke 2:10-11).

And if that wasn't enough to give it away, a whole platoon of angels came to announce, not the Pax Romana of Caesar, but to proclaim the peace this child would bring as they sang:

Glory to God in the highest. Peace on earth to those whom God favors (Luke 2: 14)

This blatant blast from heaven's horn sounds like a hint that no one could miss. But, let's remember that faith shouts what God has whispered. Remember the voice at Jesus' baptism? Some thought it was thunder. The light that struck Paul on the road to Damascus and the voice from heaven went unheard and unseen by those accompanying him. Angels are messengers who shout what God has whispered. They come to us like excited children telling us the end of the story. They trumpet what is only a hint.

Be honest. Who would have guessed that this was the Christ lying in the hay in a common home under an empty sky with a sweaty young girl and a newborn in a  feeding trough ? Where will the shepherds find this ruler of rulers? How will they recognize the promised Messiah? We are privy to the hint, the sign that is given to the shepherds. And the hint is as bare as the baby when he was first born.

You shall find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in manger (Luke 2: 12).

You who know the story have arrived at the manger even before the shepherds. There you are standing in the manger room squinting at the newborn, looking as if with a third eye. You look for something that might mark this baby as different from any other ordinary infant; maybe a golden halo around his head, like in a Renaissance painting. The sky outside with pinholes for light does not tip you off, even though one star seems a bit brighter than the others. This king has no royal bassinet, no kingly robe, no jeweled crown. You listen for the flutter of angels, but there is no sound of flapping in the air. Only the buzzing of flies around fresh cow dung. No flash from the heavens. No cracking apart of the sky.

All that you have to go on is the sign, a heavenly hint; a baby wrapped in strips of cloth lying in a feeding trough. With only those hints, could you have guessed that the glory of God was resident in that child? With only a whisper of God and a plain ol’ baby wrapped up tight in his humanity?

Finding God hidden within the human hints is the task of the seeker of the Sacred. Here is a most profound truth: there is nowhere else on earth that we will find God, except in what is utterly human. The pulse of God beats beneath the skin of human life. God’s voice speaks through human voices or earthy silence. God shows up on the pages of a Book with the marks of human hands. The timeless has intersected with time. Heaven is clothed with earth. It is there that we must peek for the hints and guesses of the Sacred. The divine is in the human. As it was in the baby in the manger.

Poet T.S. Eliot has movingly spoken of this truth in lines from his poem Four Quartets:

To apprehend the point of the intersection of the timeless with time something given and taken, in a lifetime death in love,

ardor and selflessness and self- surrender

a shaft of sunlight

the wild thyme unseen or the winter lightning
or the waterfall or music heard so deeply
These are only hints and guesses

hints followed by guesses; and the rest is

prayer, observance, discipline, thought and action
The hint half-guessed, the gift half-understood

in Incarnation

Here the impossible union (2)

The Word became flesh ... and dwelt among us. The theological term for this is Incarnation. Heaven wedded to earth in an impossible union. That is the mysterious plot of the incarnation. God in Christ. Christ in the world. The Holy in the mundane. The extraordinary in the ordinary. The Word become flesh. And we have been guessing about God ever since. For the hard lines between the sacred and the secular have been forever blurred. The Mysterious God of the eternity has come to us in this vulnerable Jewish baby within time. The divine has enfolded the human in an eternal embrace. That is why the hints of God's presence among us are stuffed in life, like fortunes in cookies, like leaven in bread, like God in human life; as the hints of God are all wrapped up tight in that child in the manger. Hints and guesses.

The hints of Mystery are all around us wrapped up tight in the swaddling cloths of the human. Even while the Caesars of this world oppress and make war, whispers of God's peace can still be heard by messengers with clipped wings. Even with the TV flooding our living rooms with the sewage of gossip, scandals, and violence, the good news of hope and forgiveness still trickles from human lips. Even though the news of tragedy in Newtown stabs our hearts and we wonder where in the world is God, we catch a glimpse of the sacred in the healers and helpers, the angels of assistance. The hints are there in the pulpits and in the streets, the stained glass and the graffiti on the wall, in the Bible and the newspapers. God is there in the old man rocking alone in the rest home, the laughing child, the homeless man in the park, the black teen mom nursing her baby. God is hope in the presence of hopelessness, light in the pit of night, the glue that holds us together when all seems to have fallen apart. God is there hidden beneath the skin of it all. As hints and guesses. Just as God was hidden beneath the skin of that baby born in the manger. A vulnerable God enters our world in the fragile skin of human life.

Jesus is born. The hint half-guessed. The gift half-understood in Incarnation. And life will never be the same. God will never be the same. God has dwelt among us. God still dwells among us….in the laughter and tears, the hope and despair, the triumphs and tragedies. There are hints of God's presence all around us, if we but listen; to those solitary moments when the silence screams; to the whispers of grace in the warmth of human compassion; to the outraged prophets who cry out for justice; to the simple story at Advent of a baby’s birth. The hints are there, human and vulnerable. As human and vulnerable as the baby in the manger. God is in the human. And who of us will dare to guess. No. More than that. Who of us will dare to believe?

(1) The Wisdom of Solomon 7: 1-6

(2) T.S. Eliot, The Complete Poems and Plays, 1909-1950. (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1955 ), 136.

Let It Be: Luke 1:26-38

 

*This sermon was preached at Zion Mennonite Church, Hubbard Oregon on the Third Sunday of Advent, December 16, 2012

 

The scripture text for today was painted by many artists during the Renaissance. One of those paintings of the annunciation, which was also painted as a fresco, is by the Florentine artist Fra Angelico. The painting contains the figures of the angel Gabriel and Mary. They are under the arches of a building painted like a blue sky spangled with stars. In the background are Adam and Eve being expelled from the Garden of Eden. Through these humans come the Fall of humanity, wheras through Mary comes the redemption of humanity in the birth of Christ. A golden beam with the open hands of God send the Holy Spirit as a dove to Mary, while God’s face, as a relief on the building, overlooks the scene. Gabriel and Mary’s heads are framed with a gold halo. The figure of the angel Gabriel with tan feathered wings has arms folded across his chest. On the other half is Mary looking toward Gabriel also with her hands folded across her chest. It is a sign of the cross and symbol of her submission to God's will in giving life, as Christ himself will submit to God’s will unto death.

 

The artist has captured that moment when the angel Gabriel announced earthshaking news to the virgin Mary. She will have a child by the Holy Spirit. His name will be called Jesus. He will be the Son of the Most High God and reign on the throne of his ancestor King David. Will Mary accept the calling to be the messiah’s mother? It is not a done deal. The angel awaits her response. In the painting there is naturally no movement. Everything is as still as death. No flutter in the angel’s wings. Not one eye blinks. The soft folds of their garments hold as if starched. The moment is frozen in time. As if the world had stopped on its axis. As if time itself were hinged on the answer of Mary. You can almost feel the question that hangs in the still air: "What will be her response?" In this motionless moment heaven and earth hold their breath.

 

Let's go back to the beginning of the story. The angel Gabriel was sent by God to Nazareth, a town in Galilee. Sounds similar to what happened in the movie "It's a Wonderful Life" doesn't it? An angel is sent at a turning point in someone's life. A life-saving message needs to be communicated. So God sends an angel. The biblical text talks about angels as if they were as common as houseflies. Gabriel shows up out of nowhere and greets Mary as if he were your typical mailman. The angel's voice probably didn't sound like Charlton Hesston speaking in King's English as if inside a cavern. Although in centuries to come the words, "Hail Mary, full of grace" will be uttered in prayer by millions of the devout, those words roll off the angel's tongue with an earthiness as common as "Hi, Mary, you lucky lady." But Mary is more perplexed by what might be behind such a greeting than she is about an angel showing up on her doorstep.

 

The angel says, "Don't be afraid." Nobel Peace Prize winner Elie Wiesel once said that whenever an angel says "Do not be afraid" then you can bet you’re in for a big assignment. And what was Mary's assignment? Oh, not much. Just to be the Mother of God's Son! Talk about big assignments! Mary doesn’t break out in a deep belly laugh, like Sarah did at the idea of giving birth to a nation while still in a rest home. Instead, Mary has a question to ask. Just a little question. If you were Mary, you would have at least one question, wouldn't you? "Just how is this going to happen, Mr. Angel, seeing that I’m a virgin, duhhh?" Mary is no naïve teenager. She knows the facts of life. What the angel tells her must have sounded just as incredible to Mary as did Sarah's news of giving birth in a geriatric ward. Mary's child would come to be through the Holy Spirit. Mary must have been thinking, "What other impossible things are you going to tell me." Could the angel Gabriel have overheard what the angel of the Lord said to a giggling Sarah near the oak trees long ago? For the final words of these two angels are practically the same: "Nothing will be impossible with God."

 

In the world of the Bible nothing is impossible. Angel's buzz around like common flies. A nation is born from a barren womb. Seas part before God's people. God steps into the world clothed in human flesh. Water turns into wine. A few loaves of bread and a fish feed thousands. A dead man comes to life again. Nothing is impossible with God. With his otherworldly message spoken the angel Gabriel awaits Mary's response to God's message.

 

Let's stop the action between the angel's last word and the first tremble of Mary's lips.Freeze that moment in the text between the words "God" and "Mary", like the moment frozen in Fra Angelico's painting. Let's brush into that small space in the canvas of time a hypothetical question. What if Mary said, "No"? I'm not being facetious. I'm serious. What if she refused to be the mother of God's Messiah? What if she didn't fold her arms across her chest? It was a real possibility. She had the freedom and the will. What if Mary told the angel, "Forget it, Gabe. Go ask some other teeny bopper"? What if when God spoke to Isaiah and said, "Whom shall I send and who will go for me", Isaiah responded, "Lord, you gotta be kidding. That's just too big of a job for me." Or what if Nikos Kazantzaki's novel idea were true, that Jesus could have refused the way of the cross and lived out an everyday life like everyone else. In the movie, based upon the novel The Last Temptation of Christ, at a crucial moment on the cross time stops. An "angel" appears to Jesus and he is presented with the choice of coming down from the cross, getting married, having children, growing old, and dying a natural death. What if Jesus had not chosen the nonviolent way that would eventually led him to the cross? What if Jesus had not folded his arms across his chest to God's will, but defiantly raised his arms with a sword against Rome, like so many Jewish rebels had done?

Now, in that frozen moment between the angel's announcement and Mary's response we ask, "What if Mary had said 'No'"?

 

Maybe we don’t face momentous decisions of such great significance as Mary faced. But maybe at times we do. Maybe our responses to God come in small steps, but added up they change our lives and destinies in indiscernible, yet significant ways. Our messages from God may not come from the lips of angels, but they come to us nonetheless. And we’re called upon to respond, to act upon that word. There are moments when God's message comes to us as clear as a bell on a Sunday morning and we can go one way or another.

 

Let's take some of those moments and freeze frame them. Paint on the canvas of your mind a man, named John, sitting in church on a Sunday morning in Advent. Beside John is his wife, who has a look of contentment on her face. She feels at home. In his childhood John was taken to church sporadically, but always on the holidays. Unlike his wife, church had never become much of a habit for him. Out of a sense of family duty he would show up with his wife on special Sundays to see his children perform or at Easter and Christmas services. John didn't tell his wife, but he thought church was for women and children.

 

Over the years John sat through quite a few sermons out of respect for his wife and children. On this Advent Sunday, though, something happened. During a moment in the service it seemed like time stopped. It was as if the preacher were speaking directly to him. No, it was more than the preacher. It was as if the preacher were merely a messenger conveying a message directly to him. The preacher was talking about people needing to have a faith of their own and not a faith of their parents or family. It seemed as if she were speaking in slow motion as she was inviting people to commit their lives to Christ and to be baptized into the fellowship of the church. John knows it would be a life changing decision. It would mean living a different kind of life, a life for Christ.

 

John’s wife, who sits next to him in the pew, is unaware that her husband is frozen in an eternal moment, which has broken in upon time. John is struggling with this life-altering commitment as if he were wrestling with an angel. An unseen finger is gently tapping him on the shoulder. He thumbs through the hymnal trying to avoid thinking about it. He folds his arms and bows his head. It's one of those moments that you feel you finally have to settle with a "yes" or a "no" answer. John opens his eyes and looks up. He must decide. What will be his response?

 

Fill in the details of this pencil sketch. Joan is very talented. Her skills of leadership are evident to everyone where she works. If she comes across a problem, she will meet it head on and with real creative solutions. There was no problem too big for her to wrestle. Her skills have caused many promotions and raises to come her way. Everyone at the company adores Joan, or maybe I should say, they adore her performance. She has it made. Or so you would think. Yet, when she's done with all the meetings and comes home to her empty, twentieth floor apartment, there is a hole inside her soul. Something's missing from her high-powered lifestyle. She goes to bed, clicks off the light, and stares at the red numbers on her digital clock until she falls asleep.

 

This morning a printed piece of paper sits on her desk waiting for Joan to arrive. She walks into the office and pulls back her desk chair. The plain piece of paper catches her attention, even amidst the piles of flashy, multicolored advertisements. She lifts the paper to her face. Where did this come from? Printed on the paper are the words: "City project for the homeless needs new director." Now, in her world of high rise and high finance, she was not one to think about such issues, except those found on the pages of the Wall Street Journal. But there she was with this job opening stuck to her hand like flypaper. She couldn't put it down. Something deep inside her seemed to be pulling. It was as if the plainly printed words on the paper had been inscribed in gold with an angel's pen. If there was ever the right person to creatively tackle such a problem, it was Joan. She looks out her office window at the skyline of the city as if searching for someone to help her make a decision. What will be her response?

 

We could fill a gallery with portraits of people who have been greeted by angels unaware and have been called upon to make crucial decisions. A voice speaks from a conference newsletter calling us to build a relationship with a church in another country. Images of working with people in a community ministry get painted on the ceiling of our brain from a slideshow in a church service. A service opportunity for retired persons somehow lands in our lap. An announcement at church, as common as a housefly, buzzes in our ear, “A teacher is needed for the fifth grade boy’s class.” And you thought someone called your name.

 

God speaks to us in many and diverse ways-----through the words of a sermon, through the reading of the scriptures in a quiet place, in the wind through the trees near the lake, in the comforting words of a friend, in the gravel voice of a gap-toothed man on the street, or as we stare off into the awe-inspiring life of someone named Jesus. God speaks. We can freeze those moments in time, when something, someone bigger than ourselves and our agendas calls us. What will be our response?

 

Let's go back to Mary. Let's unfreeze the moment held fast in Fra Angelico's painting. Let's read a little farther in the gospel story. Mary has heard the Word of God from the angel. What will she say? Put your ear up close to the Bible and listen. We know what she will say, even before she speaks the words. With arms folded she replies, "Here I am. The servant of the Lord. Let it be... to me according to your word." Let it be. Mary has spoken the words of a true disciple. Let it be. This is Mary’s “Amen” to God’s call. Amen. Let it be. As the Beatles put it, Mary is “speaking words of wisdom...Let it be." It is the wisdom of surrendering ourselves to God’s call. Let it be. It is the wisdom of turning over our broken hearts to the divine healer. Let it be. It is the wisdom of trusting, like a child, that God’s grace will see us through whatever future we face. Let it be. Let it be. Mary speaks words of wisdom to us on this Advent Sunday. Let it be.

 

We who sit here in this church building far away from Nazareth, beyond the shores of Galilee, on the far side of the cross, and the other side of the open tomb, can thank God that Mary said, "Let it be." For in her decision the divine and the human embraced in a earthshaking, history-making moment. In that moment when she said, "Let it be," God was also saying "Let it be." As in the beginning, when the womb of space was an empty void and God said "Let it be" and it was. Now, through the child born of Mary, God says to a world needing to be reborn, "Let it be." The world is born anew through our many responses of “Let it be.” When we say “let it be” to God’s call, the divine and human embrace.

 

The divine and human embrace when someone says “yes” to follow Christ. The divine and human embrace when an enemy is forgiven. The divine and human embrace when a congregation lets go of its disappointments and failures and moves on. The divine and human embrace when someone accepts an assignment to serve others. The divine and human embrace when wounds from harsh parents are healed. The divine and human embrace when we turn our future over to God. The divine and human embrace when new possibilities are born. When we say, “Let it be,” to God’s word and will the divine and human embrace. And we come closer to the birth of a new moment, a new path, a new world.

 

God calls each of us to go where God sends us, to do what God asks us, to be that person God has uniquely created us to be, to share in the birthing of a new world. What will be our response? That crack in time between God's Word to us and our response may be this very moment, when human words become the Word of God. God may be speaking a Word to you, calling upon you to be God's instrument of new life in some small way, wooing you toward a renewed relationship with God, leading us all by the hand to a new future as a congregation…. in this still moment….frozen in time..... while the angels hold their breath…. What will be your response? To God's call the true disciple responds, as did Mary, "Here I am. The servant of the Lord. Let it be. Let it be."