Note: This sermon borrows heavily on "Mary’s song--and ours," an article by James Kay in the Dec. 10, l997, issue of CHRISTIAN CENTURY. Another source used here is an article on "Mariology" in the August 25, l997, edition of NEWSWEEK.)
Today is the Lord’s Day, of course, but it is also Mary’s Day--the one Sunday in the Christian year where our scripture readings focus on the handmaiden of the Lord. Fact of the matter is, it has been quite a year for the Blessed Virgin. Back in August, she made the cover of a major, weekly news magazine, the ultimate symbol of fame in our culture. The NEWSWEEK magazine story reported on a popular movement within the Roman Catholic Church to elevate Mary to the status of co-redeemer with Christ, as mediator--along with her Son--between God and humankind.
Vatican experts say the Church is unlikely to go quite that far in official veneration of the Virgin. Even so, that will not stop the faithful masses around the world from continuing to exalt her. Instead of dismissing them out of hand, I propose today to take a "second look" at Mary. Because I believe there is something here in Mary’s story, and in her enduring, even growing influence in the hearts of millions---something here that even a Presbyterian congregation might learn!
And so we begin where Protestants always start, with Holy Scripture, where surprising little is said of and by this woman who has been called "the dominant female figure in Western culture." St. Paul, writing first among the New Testament witnesses, seems to know nothing about her, save that Jesus was born of a woman. Mark, the first of the three Gospels to be written, skips the birth altogether, starting right in with the preaching of John the Baptist. In Matthew’s gospel, Mary is there, but she never says a word. In the Gospel of John, there is no Christmas story at all, but John does have the mother of Jesus present for his first miracle--turning water to wine--and at the crucifixion, showing her to be a faithful disciple to the end.
Mary finally comes to center stage in the Gospel of Luke. Here she is given both speaking and singing parts at the outset of the divine drama. Luke grounds his story of Mary, as with his entire gospel, in Older Testament prophesy.
"Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign," Isaiah had prophesied,
"Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son,
and shall name him Immanuel" (Isaiah 7).
For Luke the Evangelist, Mary is the "young woman" and Jesus is Immanuel, God with us. In Luke’s story, Mary experiences what’s called a theophany, that is, a divine visitation, or revelation. Luke describes Mary’s experience with the angel Gabriel as comparable to the revelations given to Abraham, Moses, and other ancient prophets, putting this young woman in an exclusive club, indeed.
Mary not only shares experiences with the prophets of old, she takes up their refrain in the song she sings. Mary’s song, which we read responsively just a few minutes ago,
is a "freedom song on behalf of all the faithful poor in the land." That is the description offered by James Kay of the Presbyterian seminary at Princeton. Professor Kay points out that when Mary describes herself as a lowly servant of the Lord, she is not referring to her humility. He says the Greek behind the word translated "lowliness" in verse 48 means poverty. "Mary is poor, dirt poor," Kay writes.
She is poor and pregnant and unmarried. She’s in a mess. But Luke the evangelist has her singing. It may seem like an unlikely response, but Luke and his faithful readers know how the story will proceed. This lowly, wretched woman--daughter of a people despised by the world--is favored by God, and will bring the Messiah to birth. And so, she sings. She sings a song of freedom for all those poor souls who still believe that God will make a way where there is no way. Like John the Baptist, Mary prophesies deliverance; she prophesies about a way that is coming in the wilderness of injustice. She sings of a God who "has scattered the proud" and "brought down the powerful" and "lifted up the lowly;" who has "filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty." God has done this before, and Mary says God will do it again.
Mary’s song is called the Magnificat, and surely it does magnify the Lord. That is to say, Mary’s song gives us a blown-up picture, an enlarged snap-shot revealing God’s purpose in the world. God’s intent is nothing less than turning the world upside down-- that the first shall be last and the last shall be first.
I wonder if Mary would be as popular if the earnest people who see her image in cornfields, and on doors and windows, could also hear her song. I mean, this woman sings like a revolutionary. Nothing in these verses suggest the Madonna of the Renaissance masters, or plaintive voice of Schubert’s "Ave Maria." Instead, here is a model for the modern Christian woman. In fact, the NEWSWEEK story on Mary says women theologians see her today as a ‘free woman’ who chooses to say "yes" to God at the Annunciation where Eve said "no" to God in the Garden of Eden--and thus Mary makes "salvation history," as we know it, possible. What’s more, theologians serving the impoverished masses in Latin America and elsewhere find in the humble Mary an appropriate symbol of God’s apparent preference in favor of the poor and the oppressed.
No wonder church establishment restricts this woman to one Sunday a year! She is dangerous. Her song is revolutionary--a threat to the status quo. A threat to us. Think about it. We, here at Edgewood, are not rich by Western standards, but most of us fervently defend the status quo. We are not so naive as to claim that there are no deficiencies in the present economic system. We are aware of the growing disparity between the rich and the poor; we see the effects of ignorance and poverty on crime, drug addiction, and abuse of women and children. We’re not blind to the fact that the system of taxation in our state especially, favors the rich at the expense of the poor. And yet, we--ourselves--feel like we have such a tenuous hold on our own economic status, we’re not about to rock the boat. We may not feel like we’re on the way up, but heaven forbid we might fall down. So, for the most part, we support the status quo. As the late, never-great, mythical Senator Foghorn of Mississippi would say, "If we all work together, put our nose to the grindstone, and our shoulder to the wheel, maybe things will gradually stay the way they are."
All of which is to say, we desperately need Mary. The world needs this woman’s courage and faith. We need her song, her plea for justice. For we all know there can be no "peace on earth" without God’s justice. There can be no good will among all people until "the hungry are filled with good things;" until the powerful share power; until the rich share their wealth.
Ah, too much to ask, you say. Too much to dream! Too much to sing! And you are absolutely right. We cannot celebrate Mary’s day, we cannot sing Mary’s song without help. We have too much invested in the current regime. But we still have Mary. Protestant and Catholic alike, we still have Mary. And she may be a sign for us that the Holy Spirit, who visited Nazareth so long ago, is not yet finished with us. Perhaps, through the power of the Holy Spirit, "the church will come to realize," professor Kay writes,
that every song of the future apart from Mary’s song is simply off key."
Every future projected apart from Mary’s God has no future---
it is doomed, and it is damned.
With Mary’s song is our Advent song--our song of hope and joy--comes the reassurance that Mary’s God has a future. We believe that her God is our God, that this Holy One will bring us to see "more than we have yet seen." After all, this hope is the point of Advent--the turning point, not only for Mary, but for us all.
So, sing Mary, sing! Sing to us your song of God. Sing on, Mary, sing on, till your song at last becomes our song. Sing till all the world shares your hope.. And when your Son returns with his angels in power, may we join them and you and the whole company of heaven, singing, "Glory to God in the highest!" Glory to the God of Mary, the woman whose freeing Son, and freedom song, will someday be our own.
Blessing and glory and wisdom
and thanksgiving and honor
and power and
might
be to our God forever and ever. Amen.