I think it’s a fair question to ask, why on earth did Mary and Joseph make the trip to Bethlehem so close to her due date?  When it was decreed by the Roman authorities that a census would be taken, and everyone must report back to their family town to register, Joseph had to go.  The penalties for failing to comply with the census registration were stiff, including property seizure or imprisonment.  Joseph had to go.  The situation reminds me of Lucy on the Peanuts.  When she tries to boss Linus into doing something for her, he says give me a good reason why I should.  Lucy holds up her hand and says, “I’ll give you five good reasons!”  And then she curls her fingers one by one into a fist.  The Roman Empire had a heavy fist.  They gave Joseph plenty of reasons why on earth he would make the 80-mile trip at such an inopportune time.

But why take Mary along, too?  Only the men counted and needed to register.  Why on earth would Mary take that five-day (at least!) trip on a donkey in the late months of her pregnancy?  Well, maybe the reasons for that were heavenly.  In our Old Testament lesson today, we read from the prophet Micah, who wrote that out of Bethlehem would come a future leader.  Even though the people of Bethlehem were small in number, it was from this clan that Israel’s savior would come.  As we’ve talked about already this Advent, Matthew takes great care to connect for us that Jesus’s earthly father Joseph was a member of this family line.  The Christmas story contains many wonders, including the idea that God leveraged the circumstances of the time, arranging for Jesus to be born in Bethlehem so prophecy made four hundred years before could be fulfilled.

Which just goes to show, God has a much longer-term perspective than we do!  I can’t even plan ahead four months, let alone four centuries!

Today is the fourth Sunday of Advent, the week we focus on love.  The Bible has a lot to say about love, including that God is love, and that it was because God loved the world so much, God sent his only Son Jesus to show us what love is like.  But I wonder if Joseph and Mary were thinking about love as they made the difficult trek from Nazareth to Bethlehem.  We know it took at least five days, and likely longer because Mary would have needed to rest frequently.  We know there were no roadside comfort areas with bathrooms and snacks available. But apparently making that trip together, as difficult as it was, was a better option than leaving Mary in Nazareth and Joseph going to Bethlehem alone.  They were married, they had committed to each other, and Joseph had committed to the baby Mary carried.  So off they went, not really on a honeymoon, but on a trip propelled by love just the same.

What does that tell you about what love is really like?  Doing what is required, well that’s not usually the stuff of romance.  I’ve never seen a greeting card that says, “To my dear husband, thank you for doing what is expected of you.”  Have you?  When we think of love, we often think of doing the un-expected, going above and beyond what is required.  We think of surprises and special gifts and dramatic gestures.  That’s how we show love, right?  Well sometimes, sure.  But day in and day out?

I think we know intuitively that the way we show love day in and day out is to honor our commitments. A few years into our marriage, I was frustrated because it seemed like Phil was always at work.  I felt neglected and unseen, and my lack of loving feelings for him showed up in unloving words and actions toward him.  I was not the wife I promised to be, and I didn’t know how to make things better.  One day I was talking to my friend Melody about it, and she said, “You know, it’s not the feelings of love that matter most.  It’s the commitment you made.  That’s what matters most.”  She had a college professor who said the secret to a happy marriage is to honor your commitments.  That sounded like the most unromantic thing I ever heard!  But the next day I drew a paper flower and wrote, “I Love You, Phil!” on it, covered it with contact paper, and hung it in the shower where he would see it.  It was my way of trying to once again honor the commitment I made to cherish him.

That was almost thirty years ago, and what I have learned about love is, often love is a slog.  It’s like a five to nine day trip from Nazareth to Bethlehem:  boring yet nerve-wracking at the same time, uncomfortable yet filled with expectation, sometimes downright scary, yet mostly marked by good humor and generosity.  Love is the day in and day out habit of honoring our commitments.

On this fourth Sunday of Advent, we honor love as the primary reason God sent Jesus.  When God created the world, and humankind, God made a commitment to life.  God commanded Adam and Eve to be fruitful and multiply.  God wanted the earth to be TEEMING with life.  God committed to TEAMING with humankind to make that richness of life possible.  Even when we sinned and our love failed, God’s love remained steadfast.  God is so committed to abundant and everlasting life, God sent Jesus.  God is committed to TEEMING life, and to TEAMING with humankind to bring about that life.

So it is from God’s commitment to life that love flows, and vice versa.  It’s like asking which came first, the chicken or the egg.  Which came first, God’s love for creation, or God’s commitment to creation?  They cannot be separated from one another.  Love and commitment go hand in hand.

But love expressed in the form of commitment is often underrated.  Consider this poem by Robert Hayden, “Those Winter Sundays”:

 

Sundays too my father got up early

and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,

then with cracked hands that ached

from labor in the weekday weather made

banked fires blaze.  No one ever thanked him.

 

I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.

When the rooms were warm, he’d call,

and slowly I would rise and dress,

fearing the chronic angers of that house.

 

Speaking indifferently to him,

who had driven out the cold

and polished my good shoes as well.

What did I know, what did I know

 

 

I love this poem because it reminds me of myself.  The poet looks back on his life and confesses, that because things weren’t perfect in his house, he failed to see the love that was there.  He failed to appreciate that his father showed love by going to work every day.  By getting up early and building the fire so everyone else could leave their warm beds and be surrounded by a warm home.  By polishing his son’s shoes.  The father was not able to provide a perfect home.  There was anger there.  But despite not being appreciated for all he did, the poet’s father did his best to show love.  I wonder how many times I too have failed to see the love around me because things weren’t as perfect as I’d like them to be.

And so I would like to say it again:  love is often a slog.  But love is what propels us.  Love is why God sent Jesus.  Love is why God sent all of us!  Love is the reason for our Advent journey, just as it was the reason for Joseph’s and Mary’s journey.  Love has its moments of candlelit beauty, of course.  But most of the time, love looks like honored commitments.  Right foot.  Left foot.  Step after step, traveling in the right direction, sticking to the path despite bad weather, rough terrain, and discomfort.

Love is not only what propels us.  It is what sustains us through our challenges.  And miraculously, it is what transforms us, turning our most difficult challenges themselves into new and abundant life.  Laurens van der Post, a South African writer put it this way:

 

There is nothing in your life

too terrible or too sad

that will not be your friend

when you find the right name to call it,

and calling it by its own name

Hastening

it will come upright to your side.

 

I love that word, hastening.  Moving quickly.  Could it be that the terrible and sad things in our lives are God’s way of moving us more quickly toward wholeness?  God doesn’t cause all of our circumstances.  But God can USE all our circumstances for good!  We know that God’s love is a force so powerful, it makes forgiving our enemies possible. We know God’s love is so powerful, it can raise the dead to new life.  We know that!  Nothing can separate us from God’s love.  Not discomfort, not hardship, not frustration—nothing can separate us from God’s love.  But remember, God’s planning is much more long-term than ours.  Just because we can’t see progress or transformation in the moment doesn’t mean it’s not happening.  Which is why love comes back to honoring our commitments.  It’s not glam.  But it is true.

Every time I do a wedding, I try to read a new book on marriage.  One had a particularly odd title, “The Zimzum of Love” by Kristen and Rob Bell.  I don’t remember what the zimzum of love is.  But I do remember that they talked about love being a cycle.  First there’s the spark.  Right?  You know that instant feeling of attraction and interest.  The spark makes us want to move to the next stage, which is substance.  Two people need time to get to know each other better, to see if they have enough in common and enjoy being together enough, to keep going.  And if they do, eventually they will get to the third phase, which is sacrifice.  If they are going to deepen their relationship, at some point, someone will have to make a sacrifice.  Maybe one will need to move so they can be near each other.  Maybe one or the other will have to give up a bad habit or issue that is getting in the way of the relationship.  If they decide to marry, they will both have to sacrifice—forsaking all others, to be true to their spouse.

Spark, substance, sacrifice.  Makes sense.  But what makes this so wonderful is, the sacrifice ultimately reignites the spark! And the cycle of love begins again, each time deepening intimacy and strengthening connections.  The spark, substance, sacrifice pattern leads to places of great joy.  But along the path will be many days of simply honoring our commitments.

Today on the fourth Sunday of Advent, we light the candle of Love.  Remember, it only takes a spark to get a fire going!  God sent Jesus to be a spark of love, to attract us, to come and see what God is all about.  Jesus’ ministry gave us the substance we need to know God enough to move into the next phase of love:  sacrifice.  Otherwise known as commitment.  As we approach Bethlehem this week, I pray you will set an intention for yourself.  Maybe it will be to notice the ways love is shown by people who do what is expected and required, and hasten to find a way to say thank you.  Maybe it’s to sacrifice your wishes for a “perfect” life, and accept the hastening that wants to come alongside you.  Maybe it’s to make a new commitment to God, or honor a commitment you’ve previously made.  Use these last few days of Advent to act quickly!  Whatever journey you find yourself on, may it hasten you toward the abundant and everlasting life Jesus came to bring.  Amen.