The theme of change is prevalent in Isaiah 35:1-10 and Matthew 11:7-10.  Both passages speak of the transformation of the able-challenged as those who cannot see or hear. The Isaiah passage also speaks of the transformation of the environment, a theme not adopted in the Gospel reading.

The admonition to “be strong, fear not” (Isaiah 35:4a) encourages one to hope that even the most difficult transformation, where deserts are changed into fertile land, is possible.  That message is encouraging to LGBT people, who know on a daily basis that in a culture both fixated and fearful about sex, the world is neither safe nor hospitable.  This is especially true for those who “flaunt” their difference, question conventional wisdom, or challenge social privileges constructed on the basis of wealth, whiteness, maleness, heterosexuality or Christian religious identity.  By the same token the promise of return from exile, suggested in Isaiah 35, raises questions for LGBT people who have been exiled from churches and are left wondering whether return will ever happen and on whose terms.

	When does it become necessary, for the sake of justice and the wholeness of the community, to stop being patient?  What particular transformative action is possible for your faith community to embrace and advocate for this Advent season?

The questions John’s disciples pose to Jesus in Matthew 11: 3 about whether he is the one hoped for suggest contrasting readings.  One way to read Jesus’ response is to affirm that Christ is disclosed by the goodness we see in the lives of those who have been touched and healed by him.  Accordingly, it would be wonderful to point out the ways LGBT folks have brought new life into every arena of society, including the church.   In the similarities found in Isaiah 35 and Matthew 11, we see Jesus standing firmly within the justice tradition of the ancient prophets and adopting “the view from below,” asking whether impoverished and other oppressed people are empowered to live dignified and full lives.

On the other hand, there is a troubling aspect to Jesus’ response in Matthew 11: 4-6.  The society in which Jesus lived labeled people who had physical challenges with negative labels and treated them as castaways, similar to the ways our society often treats LGBT people.  Instead of Jesus challenging the society on the ways they treat the “other,” Jesus performs miracles that allow the other to fit into the society as “normal” in the eyes of the society. We might ask, if this is the best hope for LGBT and same gender loving people? 

	Where are there signs of God’s healing and action in the world around you?  How is God’s own presence known in the bodies and lives of those too often judged “not normal”?

This sense of uneasiness is strengthened in James 5:7-10 which stresses that the oppressed should suffer through and be patient for change.  Against this “long suffering” theology, Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail” explicitly challenged local clergy who suggested that the Civil Rights Movement was going too fast.  Similarly, the “in your face” advocacy for national AIDS/HIV research and healthcare by ACT UP demonstrated, time and again, that pressing for societal change is necessary for saving the lives of those crushed by oppression.

Similarly, the Song of Mary (or the Magnificat in Luke 1:47-55) which replaces the psalm reading for the day, presents an equally challenging model. One way of hearing Mary’s song is as a song of liberation – where one who has for too long been overlooked and oppressed, the lowly, is chosen by God.  The song declares God’s radical reversal where the powerless bear within them the very powerful presence of God.  In this hearing, LGBT are invited to join with all those who God lifts up for God’s liberating good news.

In the song, however, one may also hear Mary’s self deprecation as lowly and a slave (verse 48) and of the function of a woman’s body to achieve a male objective.  Mary’s willingness to be used is extolled as the reason she will be praised.  Notice also how the end of the song speaks of the descendants of Abraham, not of Sarah or Hagar.  This interpretation encourages the oppressed to “cool it” for a while, to fit in, and let themselves be used; we hear here a cautionary warning about how a hoped-for transformation can backfire on LGBT people, racial groups or able-challenged individuals.

Both Mathew 11 and Luke’s Song of Mary are rich, complex texts that ask us to go deeper as we seek to explore how they speak to our lives.  Our authentic hope is for personal and societal transformation that will make life abundant for all and celebrate the varied gifts of all who come to the table.  This Advent hope excites those of us on the fringes.  Don’t use us, rather engage and embrace us, and struggle with us to transform those institutions and practices which crush us.  The hope for transformation yet to come can be empowering, so much so that even the absence of positive models provides an opportunity to create something new out of our pain and in hope for “impossible possibilities” where deserts do become fertile and life giving for all.

	Following a time of prayer, what is God doing with you during this season of Advent?