Sermon 12/21/08 - Fourth Sunday in Advent
Sing We Now of Christmas: Mary's Song - Luke 1:26-56
(view lectionary notes for this text)
I know it’s the Sunday of the Cantata. But a preacher can’t help preaching at least a little bit during worship in Advent. In fact, Russell told me he chose a slightly shorter Cantata because he knew I’d want to preach a little. Thank you, Russell! The Cantata fits right in with the theme we’ve been using this year – “Sing We Now of Christmas.” We’ve been thinking about the music we sing, what it means, and how it helps us prepare for the coming of the Christ-child. And with this year’s beautiful Cantata, I know you will feel today how God can speak to us and reach us and transform us through music and song. And so I want to bring another song to you this morning. Mary’s Song. It is hard to believe – it really has gone by so quickly for me this year – but it is already the fourth Sunday of Advent. Christmas is in just a few days. You can feel how close we’re getting – our texts today talk finally about something that sounds a bit like the Christmas story to us – we hear from Mary and Elizabeth, as they share with each other news of their respective pregnancies, and Mary ends up bursting into song.
Now, I’ll gladly admit to you that the books of the Bible that are considered poetry, like Psalms and Proverbs and Song of Songs, are not my favorites. And you’ll notice that throughout the scriptures, sprinkled here and there, most books of the Bible include poetry or hymns at least a little bit. Paul occasionally writes hymns. The prophets’ writings contain poetry, and so do the books of the law. And even occasionally in the gospel, like in today’s reading, you find some song, some poetry. And it’s not that I don’t like poetry. I do, I really like poetry. I even went through some times in my life where I tried to write poetry! Bad poetry, but poetry nonetheless. It’s just that I don’t usually find the poetry of the scriptures particularly moving. I know that many people love the Psalms in particular, and I do have a couple of favorites, but if I were in charge, I might have cut the collection down to about 25 instead of a hefty 150 entries. My tendency when reading poetry in the Bible is to skim – quickly glance over the words. But I’m not sure poetry is meant to be read this way. Poetry is meant to be savored, word by carefully chosen word.
But there is one song in the Bible I love – from Luke’s gospel – Mary’s song – today we call it The Magnificat –the first song in the New Testament – the first justice song of the gospel. I love Mary’s song. Our passage begins with an unlikely pair of pregnant women. You know the story. Mary had just been told by Gabriel, a messenger from God, that she was expecting a child, a child who would be called the Son of God. Mary accepted what the messenger told her, but she needed support and counsel, and so she hurried to see her cousin also-pregnant cousin Elizabeth. Mary was betrothed but not yet wed, and her situation was precarious at best. When Mary arrives at Elizabeth’s, Elizabeth feels her baby leap in her womb, and Elizabeth calls Mary and her baby blessed. She says that Mary is blessed because she believed that God will fulfill in her all that God had promised and spoken to her.
It is then that Mary responds in song – a song that today we call “The Magnificat” because Mary begins by saying that her soul magnifies the Lord. She sings about rejoicing in God because God has chosen her, even though she is lowly. She believes she will be called blessed by all generations because of what God is doing for her. Mary goes on to describe God as merciful and strong. She talks about God scattering those who are proud and powerful and rich in earthly things, and instead favoring those who are without all these earthly things. And she finishes her song by saying that God is helping her because God remembers the promise made to her people, the promise that lasts forever.
It is the word in the first line of her song that sticks with me – magnifies. Mary begins her song saying, “My soul magnifies the Lord.” The word in this context means to make great, to exalt, but we most often use the word ‘magnify’ when we’re talking about making something bigger. We use a magnifying glass to help us better see something that’s otherwise too small. Something magnified is something that has been enlarged, made bigger, easier to see. In Mary’s case, she is saying that her soul magnifies God. In other words, Mary, her soul, her spirit, is making God larger, more visible. I think these are pretty daring things for Mary to sing about. She can clearly see herself, even though she is a woman in a male-centered society, even though she is young, even though she is unwed, even though she is pregnant, she can clearly see herself as a powerful person – made powerful by God’s action in her life – and a person who has the power then to magnify God for others, to make God more visible by serving as a vessel for God, a disciple for God.
Mary trusts that God would choose someone like her because she sees that God is always using unlikely people. Throughout Mary’s song, she makes reference to God being a God who cherishes the weak, the lowly, the hungry, the otherwise overlooked. Mary understands that God who is her Savior is a God who turns the tables, giving power to those who are powerless, and humbling those who would exalt themselves. Mary believes that God has looked at her and seen faithfulness, looked at her, and seen a servant, looked at her, and given favor and blessing. Mary believes, trusts, that in her, God is fulfilling a promise long-spoken, a promise that God would redeem God’s people. Because Mary believes this, she doesn’t shrink or cower from the great, mysterious, practically unbelievable news that Gabriel brings to her. Instead, she rejoices in the news. She lives the news – sings it. Mary’s soul will magnify God – her actions, her carrying of the Christ child will make it easier for the whole world to see God, because through Mary, the whole world will have access to a God who is this close to us, close enough to touch, close enough to carry in our hearts. Mary magnifies God for us, and so we can see this larger-than-life God, contained in a tiny baby.
We, too, are meant to magnify God with our very souls. By our lives, by our witness, by our response to our experience of God, we are called to make God more visible to the world. That means that like Mary, we must understand the power that we have as human beings. We are God’s precious creations, known to God by name, uniquely made, uniquely called. When God calls us, we should boldly respond, because God knows us, and knows how very much we are capable of. It also means that we have responsibility and power given to us. Others, by our actions, can learn something about who God is, what kind of God we serve. What will people learn about God from you? You have the ability to magnify God – to make God larger for others, easier for others to know and see and draw near to. How big can you make God? How much can you let your life work to make God visible to others? And finally, it means that we must learn something about what can happen to the world if we really take Mary’s song to heart. As I was reading about the Magnificat, and discovered that during the 1980s, the dictators of Guatemala actually outlawed the public reading of the Magnificat because of its “revolutionary tones” – indeed, Mary talks about a change in the world order that would certainly upset the way things work. When we work together with God, when we let God use us, and when we trust that in us, God can fulfill promises, even in us – when we let others see God more clearly because of us, we can actually change the world. A powerful song indeed.
Amen.