Chances are, you have heard a wonderful
rendition of the Magnificat over the course of your life. It is one of those songs that many
non-Christians have heard that have made an imprint on their knowledge of the
Christian faith. Usually, the song is
sung by a soprano, reminding us of the voice we like to think young Mary the
mother of Jesus likely had. Why we think
her a soprano rather than an alto is a question for another time, but I see the
nods. It is a well-known and well-loved
song. Have you, though, paid close
attention to the song? Have you ever
considered how the song should be echoed in our own voices, even if a bit off
key? Have you ever thought that your and
my voice ought to be raised in that same song making a joyful noise unto the
Lord?
Luke’s reading today ends with the
Magnificat, so it is right that we take a moment this Sunday, when we remember
the significance of Mary His mother, and consider her hymn. Mary, as it turns out, is cousin to
Elizabeth. She heads over to the home
village of Elizabeth and Zechariah. We
are not told why she goes there. I would
like to think that maybe she goes to talk to Zechariah about the strange
greeting from the strange man she just received. Who better to speak with unusual events than
a priest, especially when the unusual event is that you have just agreed to
give birth to God’s Anointed? Maybe Mary
liked Zechariah. Maybe she felt safe
speaking with him about this encounter than she did her own parents or her
betrothed. We just are not told. Of course, given Zechariah’s muteness, which
must have begun working its way around the family, I find it doubtful she went
to talk to Zechariah. I imagine her real
target was Elizabeth. Elizabeth was
already dealing with the fallout of strange encounters. I’m sure she enjoyed the enforced silence of
her husband, but I am also equally sure that it made communication a bit more
difficult than it needed to be. To
refresh your memories, Zechariah had scoffed at the idea that his wife would
conceive the voice of one crying in the wilderness. For his lack of faith in the message of the
angel and of the One who sent the message, Zechariah was muted for the entire
pregnancy of his wife! Whatever the
reason that drove Mary to Elizabeth, we have this incredible encounter between
these two important, if normal, women.
Upon Mary entering and greeting Elizabeth,
we are told that the baby within her leapt for joy. To us men, such a description may seem
farfetched. Just how far was he going to
leap inside her womb? How could she tell
the difference? I cannot claim to understand
how women can feel what is happening within them, and I have watched my wife go
through seven pregnancies and deliveries.
Sometimes, Karen would describe the babies’ actions as stretches or
turning over. At other times, she would
complain about a baby’s elbow or foot hitting an organ uncomfortably often or
even in a painful jolt. Sometimes, my
wife would laugh at the hiccups of the baby, at least until the little spasms
got annoying. Every now and again, Karen
would wonder if the baby within her was having a dance party of some sort
within her. I see the nods and the
laughter on ladies’ faces today, and the same stupid look we men tend to get
around such things. Ladies know and we
are clueless, right? But Elizabeth
recognizes that the movement of the boy within her is one of excitement and
joy. More importantly to us, she is
filled with the Holy Spirit and proclaims that wonderful blessing upon her
younger cousin Mary. Blessed is she who believed that there would
be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord. Elizabeth understands the risk that Mary
took, perhaps better than anyone. They
share many of the same family members.
They do not seem to live too far apart, so they likely shared some of
the same friends. Mary would be at a big
disadvantage in her life relating her tale because of her youth. The older women would think she was crazy or
covering up an affair with someone.
Elizabeth at least has a reputation to which she can point in her own
defense, that and a husband who cannot speak.
And she rightly recognizes the some of the potential cost that Mary will
bear as a result of accepting the Lord’s invitation. How
will Joseph treat her and the baby? Will
people ever forget her story? Will the
Romans target her if her son grows up to be the military leader for whom they
have all longed. No doubt you can
think of other thoughts.
Mary’s response is amazing, too. We might be tempted to respond with false
modesty (aw, shucks, it’s no big deal),
were we in the same place. Mary simply
acknowledges the truth of Elizabeth’s words and, far more importantly, gives us
insight as to how we should respond to the knowledge that God is not only real,
alive and sustaining us, but that He cares for us and has worked to restore the
chasm of sin we created between us and Him.
Her words are well known. I will
not this morning spend much time discussing the nuances of the Magnificat. I want us, instead, to focus how all of God’s
acts, both in the world and in our own lives, ought to cause a Magnificat to
spring up in our own hearts.
In many ways, Mary’s hymn captures the
essence of the Gospel that will be told by Luke. Knowing God in the Jewish culture was
considered an honor, and it was treated with a deep sense of respect by those
who truly knew and feared Him. The
priests mirrored Moses in that they approached God only by reciting certain
prayers and hymns and by stepping in certain places. Forgetting a prayer, forgetting a line in a
hymn, and mis-stepping were considered disrespectful. Those who have participated in the Bible
Study at Advent led by Larry and Tom know this even better. High priests wore ropes and bells to let the
others priests know if they were still alive or to pull them out if they were
smited by God for dishonor or blasphemy.
By contrast, we think nothing of taking God’s name in vain. How many Christian leaders make a mockery of
God by ignoring His teachings? How many
Christians make a mockery of His love or His mercy by telling those less
fortunate, by example if not word, that they deserve what they have received? How many people today are quick to eschew the
God who revealed Himself in Scripture for the idol they call “my god”?
Ask many people why they fell away from
the Church and you will often hear versions of “they were hypocrites.” When people complain we are hypocrites, they
are not often complaining we are sinners.
No, more often than not, they are complaining that we do not repent when
we sin or, worse, we celebrate our sins as if they are acceptable to God. Knowing God, of course, should cause humility
to rise in our hearts. Instead,
familiarity seems almost to breed contempt of or for God in our hearts rather
than fear. It’s crazy. But it is true. Jesus warns us elsewhere to fear the one who
can destroy our soul, and yet we treat Him as a good luck charm or, if you will
pardon the pun, a Hail Mary. My favorite
meme on Facebook this week is the criticism that faith healers only work on
television and not in hospitals. Think
about that for a second. It’s a deep
criticism.
So many of us, though, take the idea that
God acted to save us, that God wanted us to know Him for granted that we find
ourselves unable to get out of a warm bed occasionally to thank Him. We find ourselves so unimpressed with what He
has done for us and for all humanity that we actively neglect to tell our
children, or the next generation, of His saving works. As a somewhat priestly father of seven (my
kids can speak against ontological change!), I can tell you that one drives me
the most nuts. If I had a dime for every
I want my child to choose for him/her
self when he/she grows up whether to worship God or not? If I had a dollar for every time I heard a
version of that, we’d need no stewardship campaign. Ever.
Our endowments would be flush with cash.
Think of the hubris such an idea conveys in opposition to Mary’s
hymn. You know what. I don’t think I
want to raise my child to believe that the Creator of heaven and earth, of all
that is seen and unseen, wants to be known intimately by my child. I would rather he/she grope about in the
darkness. We find ourselves so
ungrateful for the saving works He has done in the world and in our lives that
we cannot be bothered to feed the hungry in His name, to clothe the poor in His
name, to put our talents, given by Him, to His use. We go through life as if He is lucky we
choose to give Him any of our valuable time.
We go through life as if He is lucky we chose to worship Him at all,
rather than reminding ourselves He owes us nothing. In this relationship, we are the debtor. I see the squirms. I seem to have touched a nerve or maybe,
maybe, the Holy Spirit is among us giving us a much needed wedgie?
Consider our own thoughts and actions and
words in light of Mary’s. Luke will
spend much of his book explaining to us, teach us, reminding us that we must
take God at His word and that the proper response to His word of salvation and
redemption in the world around us and in our lives is amazement and joy. As faithful Episcopalians, we might say our
response is a joyful thanksgiving! In
many ways, Mary’s hymn describes us in worship.
In one sense, her willingness to accept God at His word has incredible
potential consequence for her. She has
not slept with her husband or any other man, yet now she is pregnant. How will Joseph respond? Her family?
The neighbors? More importantly,
we often speak of God’s faithfulness, mercy, love, justice, and whatever other
characteristics as abstract attributes. But
now Mary knows God relationally. He has
asked her to bear His child. His has
come upon her in the power of the Holy Spirit and caused her to become
pregnant. More incredible, He has
promised that all that He promised to her ancestors will be fulfilled in her
child. Can you imagine?
In truth, we all should. We should all be singing a Magnificat with
Mary every day of our lives. We do not
worship an abstract truth or collection of attributes, brothers and
sisters. We worship a God who wishes to
be known, who wants us to love Him, who wants nothing less for us than a great
Father wants for His children. Mary’s
hymn reflects that incredible understanding.
She starts off by wondering who she is, that God should notice her, but
she moves quickly to singing her understanding of that same relationship that
was offered to Abram & Sarai, to Jacob & Rachel, Moses, to Hannah, to
David, to Solomon, to Elizabeth her cousin, and to countless others, including
you and me! Mary’s hymn of praise
testifies to the fact that the she sees God for who He is, and she rejoices that
He has been mindful of her!
Mary’s song, though in the beginning quite
personal, is also universal. Everyone we
encounter is noticed by God.
Everyone. He knows their names;
He knows their situations; He knows their hurts, their hopes, and their
fears. And across the chasm He calls to
them. He may send you and me instead of
an angel, but He calls them and us all the same. Put in modern language, He changes the world
by transforming our souls and equipping us for ministry in His name.
Brothers and sisters, how is your heart
in your breast this morning? Did you
drag yourself to church only because you had to? Did you come to church because you were
working or because you needed to see some people or because you only wanted to
watch the youth put on their presentation?
Or did you come, echoing Mary, praising Him who noticed you, called to
you, and promised to redeem you, through the work and person of that baby whose
birth we celebrate later this week? Did
you come, a recipient of His tender mercy, led to Him by the Son whom Mary
bore, whom Pilate killed, and whom God raised from the dead? Or did you come merely because you were
dragged? In the end, brothers and
sisters, He wants us to know Him fully.
The beginning of the end of His plan of salvation for all of us began
with that little girl’s assent to His request.
If He can save the world through the faithful and joyful obedience of a
young girl, imagine what He could do through a congregation of believers, a
congregation that includes you and me!
Peace,
Brian†