Difference between revisions of "Sermon for December 4th, 2016"

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Luke 1:46-55

46 And Mary said,
“My soul magnifies the Lord,
47     and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48 for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
    Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
49 for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
   and holy is his name.
50 His mercy is for those who fear him
    from generation to generation.
51 He has shown strength with his arm;
    he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
52 He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
    and lifted up the lowly;
53 he has filled the hungry with good things,
    and sent the rich away empty.
54 He has helped his servant Israel,
    in remembrance of his mercy,
55 according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
    to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”

Mary's Song of Praise: Holy Is His Name

Little Bobby was having a rough year. But he really, really, really wanted a new Playstation 4 for Christmas. He sat down to write his annual letter: Dear Santa, I've been a good boy this year. He thought of Santa's list, and all those elves keeping lookout for naughty behavior. "This isn't going to work," said Bobby to himself. "He's not going to buy it. I need someone more forgiving."

So he crossed out Santa's name and started again: "Dear Jesus... I really, really want a playstation 4 for Christmas this year." He thought about what he'd learned about Jesus in Sunday School--about being kind to your neighbor and turning the other cheek. "Jesus, if you can make that happen, I promise I won't fight with my brother for a whole month!" Then he thought about it some more, and crossed out "month" and wrote "for a whole week." Then he crossed out "week" and wrote "for a whole day." Then in frustration, he put down his pencil, said "This isn't going to work. He's not going to buy it, either."

Bobby went downstairs, to the nativity scene in the living room, and there he found the little figurine of Mary kneeling by the manger. He gently picked her up, and carried her back to his room upstairs. There, he carefully wrapped her in tissue paper, and put her inside a little cardboard box. He put the box underneath his pillow. Then he went back to his desk and started writing a new letter. "Dear Jesus: If you ever want to see your mother again..."

Sometimes I think we, as protestant Christians, also take Mary, throw her under the pillow after Christmas, and then forget about her until Easter.

But it wasn't always like that. For the first thousand years of Christianity's existence, Mary was exalted among all women; she was considered first among all the saints. Why is that? Well the usual answer is that she's the mother of Jesus. Jesus, as one third of the Holy Trinity, is God; therefore Mary is, in a sense, the mother of God. It's a striking statement, but I think we focus on the wrong part of it. We focus on the "God" part more than the "mother" part, and then we see Mary through the lens of God. As in, God is omnipotent, amazing, beyond our comprehension...and Mary is God's mother.

But I think we can flip that around, too: We can see God through the lense of Mary. Let me explain:

Raise your hand if you've ever walked on water, turned water into wine, raised someone from the dead, created the universe? No? It's hard for us to relate to God, isn't it?

Ok, how about this: Raise your hand if you have, or have ever had, a mother. That's more like it, right? So did Jesus. So did God. It's hard for us to relate to Jesus the son of God, but it's easier to relate to Jesus the Son of Mary; Jesus the human being who, like us, came into this world as a small, vulnerable child, loved and protected by a mother who held him, who fed him, and who watched him grow. We get that, we understand that.

And in understanding God, through the lens of Mary, we are more able to approach God in a personal and meaningful way.

Last week, we began to work our way through the Magnificat, Mary's song of praise. It is the song attributed to Mary, which, according to the gospel of Luke, she sings when her cousin Elizabeth greets her and acknowledges Mary's miraculous pregnancy.

Which, to us, may seem like kind of a strange thing to do. Hey Mary, you're pregnant... and then Mary bursts forth into a song that doesn't really have anything to do with being pregnant. Or does it?

I said last week that Mary's song (though it comes to us in Greek, the language of Luke's gospel) is actually in the tradition of Hebrew poetry, like the Psalms. And there is one Psalm in particular--Psalm 113--that may have a connection. It's short, so I'll read it to you--if you have your Bibles open, keep them opened to Mary's song so you can compare the two.

Psalm 113: "Praise the Lord! Praise, O servants of the Lord; praise the name of the Lord. Blessed be the name of the Lord from this time on and forevermore. From the rising of the sun to its setting the name of the Lord is to be praised. The Lord is high above all nations, and his glory above the heavens. Who is like the Lord our God, who is seated on high, who looks far down on the heavens and the earth? He raises the poor from the dust, and lifts the needy from the ash heap, to make them sit with princes, with the princes of his people."

So far does it sound familiar? Listen now to verse 9, the last verse: "He gives the barren woman a home, making her the joyous mother of children. Praise the Lord!"

There's another song in the Old Testament that follows the same pattern: It's found in 1st Samuel, chapter 2, and it's the song of Hannah. Hannah was the mother of the prophet Samuel, who prayed for many years that God would grant her a child, and when that finally happened, she sings a song of praise that is similar to Mary's, and to Psalm 113.

So this seems to be a "thing" in ancient Jewish custom--just like we throw baby showers, or send out birth announcements, perhaps it was considered appropriate, customary, for an expectant mother to pause and give thanks to God in this way, in this time.

It's also worth noting that Mary sings her song in the company of her cousin Elizabeth, who is much older, also pregnant, and who had waited a long time for a child. In a few ancient manuscripts, the song is actually ascribed to Elizabeth, not Mary.