Full of Grace – sermon on December 13, 2015

Luke 1:39-55 It was now the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius, the Roman emperor. Pontius Pilate was governor over Judea; Herod Antipas was ruler over Galilee. Annas and Caiaphas were the high priests. At this time a message from God came to John, son of Zechariah, who was living in the wilderness. Then John went from place to place on both sides of the Jordan River, preaching that people should be baptized to show that they had repented of their sins and turned to God to be forgiven. Isaiah had spoken of John when he said, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all people shall see the salvation of God.’”

Sermon: Full of Grace                  by Reverend Doreen Oughton

There are just a few things I want to say about this passage, things I wonder about, things I imagine. You heard last week how the angel Gabriel visited Zechariah to tell of the coming of his son, John, even though his wife Elizabeth was getting on in years. When Elizabeth is 6 months pregnant, Gabriel makes his next stop – to Mary, a relative of Elizabeth’s. He gives her the news that she has found favor with God, will conceive a child through the Holy Spirit, will name him Jesus, and Jesus will rule over Israel forever – a kingdom without end. He also tells her that Elizabeth is well along in her pregnancy. And Mary declares that she is a servant of God, and may things happen as the angel said.

I love the scene Jan Richardson imagines: Having received her courageous yes, Gabriel turns and takes his angelic leave of Mary. A shimmering rush of wind, and he is gone. The light returns to normal, the objects in the room resume their familiar shapes. And Mary—young Mary, unmarried Mary, soon-to-be if not already pregnant Mary—looks around. Finds herself quite alone. Places her head in her two hands and thinks, “It seemed like a good idea at the time…” Who knows where her mind went then. Did she imagine the look on her parents’ faces when she tells them she is pregnant before wedding Joseph? Is she trying to work out the conversation with Joseph? Is she imagining the whispers or outright antagonism of her peers or community elders? It makes sense that she would want to get out of town

She grasps at last to something the angel said, which maybe didn’t sink in the first time, what with all the talk of her mothering the eternal ruler of Israel. Elizabeth is pregnant, and this angel knows about it. Elizabeth is part of the plan. So Mary hastens to go to her. Now as far as we know, Gabriel did not mention Mary and her role to Zechariah. What was Mary expecting as she traveled to Judea? Did she want to ask if Elizabeth was also visited by an angel? Did she hope Elizabeth might have more information about how everything was supposed to unfold? Maybe she was just bursting to tell someone what had happened to her, someone who was distant enough not to get caught up in worrying, and someone faithful enough to get caught up in the mystery.

I’m guessing that Elizabeth’s reaction surpassed Mary’s greatest hope. Elizabeth knew upon sight that something special, something holy, was happening in and through Mary. Blessed are you, and blessed is the child that grows inside you. She talks about how her own baby leaped inside her, and it was a leap of joy, she is sure. And she blesses Mary for her belief. What did those words mean to Mary? Were they like a warm drink and a blanket on a cold day, like a comfy chair and hassock after being on your feet all day? Faced with the possibility of being shamed, Mary received blessing instead. Worried that she would disappoint or worry those close to her, she was called a blessing, her faith lifted up.

Rick Morley says we need more Elizabeths in the world – people who don’t concern themselves with judgment but seek to find and name God’s blessing. We need more people who don’t get caught up in worry, or how things might look to others; people who won’t focus on how hard things are bound to be, but instead will look to see how God might be at work even in places we don’t expect. Who in your life needs an Elizabeth? Where can you offer a blessing instead of judgment? Where can you lift up the faithfulness of people who walk a difficult path? Perhaps if there were more people like Elizabeth, there would be more people bursting into joyful song, like Mary.

Mary responds with overflowing joy to Elizabeth’s affirmation of her. “My soul magnifies my Lord,” she sings. My soul magnifies my Lord. Scholar Mark Davis found this statement remarkable. He said it implies that God is an object that is changed by something Mary does. Can that be so, he wonders. But I think he’s got that wrong. When you magnify something, do you change it? When I hold this lens against something, or put a dab of something under a microscope, am I changing anything about it? No, only my perception and perspective of it. I am able to see more of its nuance and complexity. Its not just that it looks bigger, I can now see things I wouldn’t notice otherwise. What does Mary see and understand now about God that she didn’t see before? She sings about her lowliness, and how God has lifted up the lowly, and will bring down the powerful. Perhaps she sees more clearly how much God cares for the lowly. Perhaps she has a deeper understanding of what it means to be saved. What experiences have you had that have magnified our Lord? There have been books that I’ve read and conversations that I’ve had that have magnified God for me – deepened my understanding of who and what God is, where God is, what God cares about and wants for us. I have not changed God in this, but I have changed myself and how I act in the world. How long has it been since you’ve had an experience of God being magnified? I wish for you that it would happen regularly, that you continuously grow in your understanding, that you are frequently blown away by a new understanding of God’s work and love.

Mary sings about how God has done great things for her. And how? By working through her. Finding favor with God doesn’t mean you get an easy life, riches, health, love. It means God works through you. Would that be enough to understand and accept God’s favor? I confess it’s not what I think of when I think of being favored, or disfavored by God. When I say that I am blessed, it is usually because I feel grateful for good things in my life. But what an expansive understanding of blessedness – God working through you and in you. It makes trials and hardship a blessing, because these are wonderful ways for God to work through us. Even in messing up, we might provide a powerful example of what not to do, and this might be God working through us. We can’t possibly predict how God will work through us, as Mary, I am sure, never expected her role. I love the words of Christian mystic Meister Eckhardt: We are all meant to be mothers of God. What good is it to me if this eternal birth of the divine Son takes place unceasingly, but does not take place within myself? And, what good is it to me if Mary is full of grace if I am not also full of grace? What good is it to me for the Creator to give birth to his Son if I do not also give birth to him in my time and my culture? This, then, is the fullness of time: When the Son of Man is begotten in us.

And finally, I want to say a few words about her song. She sings about the strength of God, and how God has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. God has brought the powerful down from their thrones and lifted up the lowly. God has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. Now I learned in seminary that the gospel of Luke is the gospel of the great reversal, the upending of the social order, and Mary’s song fits right in. But what strikes me is it is not really a reversal. A reversal would be the same system, just with different ones throned and different ones hungry. As the rock band the Who would say, “meet the new boss, it’s the same as the old boss.” But perhaps God is not bringing the powerful off their thrones so other people can take their place on thrones, but because there is no need of thrones in God’s kindom. Love reigns. The lowly are lifted up so that all have equal power, equal regard, equal opportunity and self-agency. Perhaps when Mary sings that God will fill the hungry with good things and send the rich away empty, that does not mean that the rich are stripped of all that they have. Maybe it just means that they ought not get in line with the hungry looking for more for themselves. God knows they have enough food. They don’t need more, and in fact, perhaps God invites them to part of the work of filling the hungry. Because in God’s kindom there is enough. No one has to stockpile. There is no call for taking what you do not need, especially when there are those who have gone without. Everyone, working together, ensuring that everyone has what they need, in food, in power, in mercy, in love. Isn’t that something to sing about. God remembers God’s promise. God made this world. God loves this world, and God is redeeming this world. Just wait, with grace. Let us sing.