ecember 20, 2009. This is the conclusion to my mini-series re: Mary for Protestants. It has been a lively and fun time to consider her charism for our generation, too. I look forward to going deeper with her - and other often neglected saints - in the new year. The various pictures and art works are from throughout the world with a special emphasis on the Black Madonna tradition.Sometimes I need a musical prayer to help me hear and embrace the startling words of God in scripture. So, before I share some of my insights and ideas with you this morning, I’ve asked Dianne to help me set the stage. Because, you see, the gospel of Luke makes abundantly clear this morning that we need a context to grasp the insights, challenges and promises of this beautiful song of Mary.
That is how I hear our sister in faith, young Mary, singing her tender and revolutionary praise to the Lord. Her song holds great wisdom for us – it is a bold call to listen for God’s new melodies in our ordinary and even mundane circumstances – an invitation to let God’s grace be born in our flesh by the Spirit
so that shalom might be embodied in our generation.
At the same time, Mary insists that the radically good news of Jesus Christ come to pass by saturating ourselves in the presence of God’s compassion not judgment. “My soul rejoices in God my savior… I am blessed… and God’s mercy and compassion is from generation to generation.” In the most unexpected way, says the prophet Micah, “from the runt of the litter shall come your leader and shepherd… who will gather the scattered together and welcome them home as a peace-maker.”
• Not as a traditional warrior; not as a hard line ideologue of either the Left or the Right; and not as one who is more interested in being right than strengthening love.
• No, the healing presence of God as proclaimed by our sister in faith Mary is about bearing fruit that deepens joy and nourishes hope – it heals what is broken within and among us – rather than remain addicted to keeping score or being immobilized by fear.
Such is the stage that St. Luke sets for us
in chapter one of his gospel. And as scholars have observed, it would be a mistake to listen only to Mary’s song without first noting the story of Zechariah. Because the dissimilarity between old Zechariah and young Mary offers us a clear contrast in faith, so let me remind you of what takes place, ok?
The old priest, Zechariah, is visited by the angel Gabriel and told that beyond all reason and evidence his aged wife, Elizabeth, will bear Israel’s final prophet: John the Baptist. And how does the old man respond? With joy? Or trust?
• Not at first – there is a much more doubt and mocking – so the story says he is struck mute as a consequence of his confusion.
• He becomes a priest of the Temple who cannot speak. What a fascinating symbol, don’t you think?
Now compare Mary to this silent priest: when the same angel or messenger of God comes to her and gives her equally troubling news about bringing God’s love to birth through her flesh, how does Mary respond?
• At first she is quiet – intentionally reflective but not struck mute – for she ponders God’s new way in her heart.
• Then
, in her own good time, she goes to be with Elizabeth – I see this as the meeting of aged and young in a way that overcomes the generation gap – and when they embrace – and the little baby John the Baptist jumps for joy in Elizabeth’s womb – Mary she breaks out in song.
Do you see the dramatically different pictures St. Luke offers in this opening overture of his gospel? There is Zechariah – old and rendered hushed – alongside Mary – young and filled with a song. There is a mature man of power and prestige forced into quiet watching and waiting; while the young and often overlooked woman is celebrated as God’s favored one. You might even say that in this story we begin to see how the first became last and the one at society’s bottom became the host for God’s banquet of love.
Let’s face it, writes United Church of Christ theologian, Kate Huey, women with babies were not at the top of the heap – especially gathering in the dust at the back door of a priest’s house:
“Zechariah, a professional, licensed and learned, knows-what-he's-doing expert in matters of faith… (is) without a voice, literally, which sets the stage for us to he
ar from the women and children” about God’s new blessings. (UCC, Worship Ways for December 20, 2009)
Am I making sense to you? Do you see the upside-down kingdom at work here in the very opening chapter of Luke’s gospel? And does anything strike or grab you here? Anything you want to share before I go on?
Ok, then listen to something Henri Nouwen wrote about this passage as I think it helps us go deeper into Mary’s wisdom. He tells us that for three months, Elizabeth and Mary lived together in the home of Zechariah the priest, new mothers trying to make sense of God’s new way in their very flesh.
“Who could ever understand? Who could ever believe it? Who could ever let it happen? But Mary said, 'Let it happen to me', and immediately realized that only Elizabeth would be able to affirm her 'yes'. For three months Mary and Elizabeth live together and encouraged each other to accept and celebrate the motherhood given to them." As Nouwen reads this story, neither woman had to wait alone for the extraordinary events to unfold, slowly, as pregnancies do: "They could wait together and thus deepen in each other their faith in God, for whom nothing is impossible. Thus, God's most radical intervention into history was listened to and received in community."
I suspect that Nouwen is
right: unlike John the Baptist heading out into the desert to figure all of this out on his own, Mary goes to Elizabeth. The novice goes to the wise – the young seeks the embrace of the experienced soul – so that together both might be strengthened.
Otis Moss, Jr., Pastor of Trinity United Church of Christ in Chicago, says that this was a Pentecostal moment – a moment filled with the Holy Spirit – where the older generation makes space for the younger as Elizabeth literally makes room for Mary in her house. “Mary shadows her older cousin in order to learn and Elizabeth includes Mary in imagining the future… welcoming her fresh ideas even as they share the core treasure of their faith.”
Is it any wonder that scholars of both the Protestant and Roman Catholic traditions tell us that Mary is the Biblical model for becoming the church?
In her story we see how she was open to the Spirit and gave birth to God’s presence. She and Elizabeth then model for us the value of building community. Eventually they even show us how young and old, rich and poor, learned and unschooled can learn the interdependence of creativity and experience together across generational lines. For isn’t that what happens on Pentecost according to the book of Acts – which is really just chapter two of Luke – because they were written by the same writer?
• In chapter one, Mary is open to the Spirit and gives birth to Jesus, ri
ght? In chapter two, the gathered disciples are open to the Spirit and give birth to Jesus in another form, yes?
• Am I getting through here? Does that make sense? Mary is our model for being the living, breathing, acting and dare I say singing church in our generation?
So let’s be clear about what her song has to say to us in 2009? The Magnificat – Mary’s song of radical hospitality and revolutionary grace – writes theologian, Elizabeth Johnson, “stands in the long Jewish tradition of female singers from Miriam with her tambourine in Exodus to Deborah the judge, Hannah (the mother of Samuel) and Judith (who questions the faith of Israel’s ruling class while under the domain of Greece) all of whom sang dangerous songs of salvation” that challenged the status quo. “Their songs are psalms of thanksgiving, victory songs of the oppressed…” and speak to us of two inter-connected truths. (Elizabeth Johnson, Truly Our Sister, p. 265)
First, God has clearly chosen a Galilean peasant woman to fill with mercy and honor: this is not an accident of history or a coinci
dence of time and must never be spiritualized. For you see, to select Mary as the one to bear Christ Jesus for the world is to embody the very presence of God wherever the poor, the wounded, the broken and neglected are being healed and cherished and liberated.
Mary’s song, you see, is a broad political indictment against any and all forces that keep humanity from living a full and vibrant life. Let us be clear that when Mary “rejoices in God her Savior,” this is not a sentimental or disembodied act: “This is messianic joy, paschal joy,” the joy realized in experience God amidst the horrible oppression that most of the world endures and suffers. And just so you don’t think I am off on some liberal or socialist tangent, please know that the very song of Mary states that God has looked with favor upon the lowliness of his servant.
• Lowliness – the English translation of tapeinosis in Greek – which “describes the misery, pain, persecution and oppression” of the poor.
• “In Genesis,” Elizabeth Johnson reminds us, “it describes the agony of the slave woman Hagar” who was abandoned in the desert. “In the Exodus story, it describes the severe affliction Israel experienced” as slaves in Egypt.
And never forget that Mary is not speaking metaphorically: “She is articulating her actual social position. Young, female, a member of a people subjected to economic exploitation by powerful ruling groups and afflicted by outbreaks of violence… this first-century Galilean peasant woman living in occupied territory, struggling for survival and dignity” (Johnson, p. 265) knows something about lowliness. And she rejoices – sings and dances and celebrates – because from deep within she knows that God has chosen her and filled with the Spirit so that compassion and justice might be born amidst the agony.
And that is what the second half of her song is all about: if part one is about her joy at being chosen by God – and
what that means for all the lowly of creation – part two heralds what God’s embodied promise in Christ will look like in the flesh.
• God scatters the arrogant and welcomes the humble; God upsets the status quo and honors the forgotten
• God fills the stomachs of the starving, heals the bodies of the wounded and refuses to be silent when the rich and powerful demand obedience because justice is what God’s love looks like in public.
How did Jesus describe his ministry during his first sermon in Luke 4?
God's Spirit is on me because God has chosen me to preach the Message of good news to the poor, to announce pardon to prisoners and recovery of sight to the blind, to set the burdened and battered free and to announce that: "This is God's year to act!"
What about when John the Baptist got cold feet in prison and demanded to know whether Jesus was the promised Messiah or a phony, do you remember the Lord’s reply? "Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor.”
As one wise feminist theologian said, “With the singer of the Magnificat as his mother, it should not surprise us that Jesus’ first words in the gospel of Luke… are also a mandate for radical change.”
• Think of the Beatitudes in Matthew: blessed are the poor.
• Think of his commitment to God’s mercy when he told the religious authorities of his day: Go and learn what this means – the Lord your God desires compassion not religion
Even his death and resurrection speak of God’s incredible reversal where compassion trumps cruelty and grace trumps karma. And, beloved, this great reversal in the Christian tradition begins with Mary…
God’s choice of Mary to give birth to the Messiah is typical of God’s (upside down) action… for just as God has chosen a female servant of low estate to bring the Lord into the world – and exalted her – so too will God overturn the proud, rich and mighty and exalt the faithful, poor, hungry and humble. (Johnson, p. 271)
That is the promise, that is the song and that is the good news for today: so let those who have ears to hear...
so that shalom might be embodied in our generation.At the same time, Mary insists that the radically good news of Jesus Christ come to pass by saturating ourselves in the presence of God’s compassion not judgment. “My soul rejoices in God my savior… I am blessed… and God’s mercy and compassion is from generation to generation.” In the most unexpected way, says the prophet Micah, “from the runt of the litter shall come your leader and shepherd… who will gather the scattered together and welcome them home as a peace-maker.”
• Not as a traditional warrior; not as a hard line ideologue of either the Left or the Right; and not as one who is more interested in being right than strengthening love.
• No, the healing presence of God as proclaimed by our sister in faith Mary is about bearing fruit that deepens joy and nourishes hope – it heals what is broken within and among us – rather than remain addicted to keeping score or being immobilized by fear.
Such is the stage that St. Luke sets for us
in chapter one of his gospel. And as scholars have observed, it would be a mistake to listen only to Mary’s song without first noting the story of Zechariah. Because the dissimilarity between old Zechariah and young Mary offers us a clear contrast in faith, so let me remind you of what takes place, ok?The old priest, Zechariah, is visited by the angel Gabriel and told that beyond all reason and evidence his aged wife, Elizabeth, will bear Israel’s final prophet: John the Baptist. And how does the old man respond? With joy? Or trust?
• Not at first – there is a much more doubt and mocking – so the story says he is struck mute as a consequence of his confusion.
• He becomes a priest of the Temple who cannot speak. What a fascinating symbol, don’t you think?
Now compare Mary to this silent priest: when the same angel or messenger of God comes to her and gives her equally troubling news about bringing God’s love to birth through her flesh, how does Mary respond?
• At first she is quiet – intentionally reflective but not struck mute – for she ponders God’s new way in her heart.
• Then
, in her own good time, she goes to be with Elizabeth – I see this as the meeting of aged and young in a way that overcomes the generation gap – and when they embrace – and the little baby John the Baptist jumps for joy in Elizabeth’s womb – Mary she breaks out in song.Do you see the dramatically different pictures St. Luke offers in this opening overture of his gospel? There is Zechariah – old and rendered hushed – alongside Mary – young and filled with a song. There is a mature man of power and prestige forced into quiet watching and waiting; while the young and often overlooked woman is celebrated as God’s favored one. You might even say that in this story we begin to see how the first became last and the one at society’s bottom became the host for God’s banquet of love.
Let’s face it, writes United Church of Christ theologian, Kate Huey, women with babies were not at the top of the heap – especially gathering in the dust at the back door of a priest’s house:
“Zechariah, a professional, licensed and learned, knows-what-he's-doing expert in matters of faith… (is) without a voice, literally, which sets the stage for us to he
ar from the women and children” about God’s new blessings. (UCC, Worship Ways for December 20, 2009)Am I making sense to you? Do you see the upside-down kingdom at work here in the very opening chapter of Luke’s gospel? And does anything strike or grab you here? Anything you want to share before I go on?
Ok, then listen to something Henri Nouwen wrote about this passage as I think it helps us go deeper into Mary’s wisdom. He tells us that for three months, Elizabeth and Mary lived together in the home of Zechariah the priest, new mothers trying to make sense of God’s new way in their very flesh.
“Who could ever understand? Who could ever believe it? Who could ever let it happen? But Mary said, 'Let it happen to me', and immediately realized that only Elizabeth would be able to affirm her 'yes'. For three months Mary and Elizabeth live together and encouraged each other to accept and celebrate the motherhood given to them." As Nouwen reads this story, neither woman had to wait alone for the extraordinary events to unfold, slowly, as pregnancies do: "They could wait together and thus deepen in each other their faith in God, for whom nothing is impossible. Thus, God's most radical intervention into history was listened to and received in community."
I suspect that Nouwen is
right: unlike John the Baptist heading out into the desert to figure all of this out on his own, Mary goes to Elizabeth. The novice goes to the wise – the young seeks the embrace of the experienced soul – so that together both might be strengthened.Otis Moss, Jr., Pastor of Trinity United Church of Christ in Chicago, says that this was a Pentecostal moment – a moment filled with the Holy Spirit – where the older generation makes space for the younger as Elizabeth literally makes room for Mary in her house. “Mary shadows her older cousin in order to learn and Elizabeth includes Mary in imagining the future… welcoming her fresh ideas even as they share the core treasure of their faith.”
Is it any wonder that scholars of both the Protestant and Roman Catholic traditions tell us that Mary is the Biblical model for becoming the church?
In her story we see how she was open to the Spirit and gave birth to God’s presence. She and Elizabeth then model for us the value of building community. Eventually they even show us how young and old, rich and poor, learned and unschooled can learn the interdependence of creativity and experience together across generational lines. For isn’t that what happens on Pentecost according to the book of Acts – which is really just chapter two of Luke – because they were written by the same writer?
• In chapter one, Mary is open to the Spirit and gives birth to Jesus, ri
ght? In chapter two, the gathered disciples are open to the Spirit and give birth to Jesus in another form, yes?• Am I getting through here? Does that make sense? Mary is our model for being the living, breathing, acting and dare I say singing church in our generation?
So let’s be clear about what her song has to say to us in 2009? The Magnificat – Mary’s song of radical hospitality and revolutionary grace – writes theologian, Elizabeth Johnson, “stands in the long Jewish tradition of female singers from Miriam with her tambourine in Exodus to Deborah the judge, Hannah (the mother of Samuel) and Judith (who questions the faith of Israel’s ruling class while under the domain of Greece) all of whom sang dangerous songs of salvation” that challenged the status quo. “Their songs are psalms of thanksgiving, victory songs of the oppressed…” and speak to us of two inter-connected truths. (Elizabeth Johnson, Truly Our Sister, p. 265)
First, God has clearly chosen a Galilean peasant woman to fill with mercy and honor: this is not an accident of history or a coinci
dence of time and must never be spiritualized. For you see, to select Mary as the one to bear Christ Jesus for the world is to embody the very presence of God wherever the poor, the wounded, the broken and neglected are being healed and cherished and liberated.Mary’s song, you see, is a broad political indictment against any and all forces that keep humanity from living a full and vibrant life. Let us be clear that when Mary “rejoices in God her Savior,” this is not a sentimental or disembodied act: “This is messianic joy, paschal joy,” the joy realized in experience God amidst the horrible oppression that most of the world endures and suffers. And just so you don’t think I am off on some liberal or socialist tangent, please know that the very song of Mary states that God has looked with favor upon the lowliness of his servant.
• Lowliness – the English translation of tapeinosis in Greek – which “describes the misery, pain, persecution and oppression” of the poor.
• “In Genesis,” Elizabeth Johnson reminds us, “it describes the agony of the slave woman Hagar” who was abandoned in the desert. “In the Exodus story, it describes the severe affliction Israel experienced” as slaves in Egypt.
And never forget that Mary is not speaking metaphorically: “She is articulating her actual social position. Young, female, a member of a people subjected to economic exploitation by powerful ruling groups and afflicted by outbreaks of violence… this first-century Galilean peasant woman living in occupied territory, struggling for survival and dignity” (Johnson, p. 265) knows something about lowliness. And she rejoices – sings and dances and celebrates – because from deep within she knows that God has chosen her and filled with the Spirit so that compassion and justice might be born amidst the agony.
And that is what the second half of her song is all about: if part one is about her joy at being chosen by God – and
what that means for all the lowly of creation – part two heralds what God’s embodied promise in Christ will look like in the flesh.• God scatters the arrogant and welcomes the humble; God upsets the status quo and honors the forgotten
• God fills the stomachs of the starving, heals the bodies of the wounded and refuses to be silent when the rich and powerful demand obedience because justice is what God’s love looks like in public.
How did Jesus describe his ministry during his first sermon in Luke 4?
God's Spirit is on me because God has chosen me to preach the Message of good news to the poor, to announce pardon to prisoners and recovery of sight to the blind, to set the burdened and battered free and to announce that: "This is God's year to act!"
What about when John the Baptist got cold feet in prison and demanded to know whether Jesus was the promised Messiah or a phony, do you remember the Lord’s reply? "Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor.”
As one wise feminist theologian said, “With the singer of the Magnificat as his mother, it should not surprise us that Jesus’ first words in the gospel of Luke… are also a mandate for radical change.”
• Think of the Beatitudes in Matthew: blessed are the poor.
• Think of his commitment to God’s mercy when he told the religious authorities of his day: Go and learn what this means – the Lord your God desires compassion not religion
Even his death and resurrection speak of God’s incredible reversal where compassion trumps cruelty and grace trumps karma. And, beloved, this great reversal in the Christian tradition begins with Mary…
God’s choice of Mary to give birth to the Messiah is typical of God’s (upside down) action… for just as God has chosen a female servant of low estate to bring the Lord into the world – and exalted her – so too will God overturn the proud, rich and mighty and exalt the faithful, poor, hungry and humble. (Johnson, p. 271)
That is the promise, that is the song and that is the good news for today: so let those who have ears to hear...
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