Sermon: "Welcoming the Mystery"

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"Welcoming the Mystery"

By Rev. Julie Yarborough

December 19, 1999

en Mary said to the angel Gabriel, "Let it be with me, according to your word," she couldn't have possibly known how her life was going to change, and what an impact on the world her decision would make. Mary was a person of deep faith, but even so, she could not see into the future. As a young woman who had never given birth before, she couldn't have known what the experience of childbirth would be like, even though others may have shared their own stories. She couldn't have known that throughout his life, there would be times that her own son would reject her claiming, "Thats not my mother - My mother and my brothers are those who know the will of God and do it." And she couldn't have known the pain that she would endure as the mother of one who would be condemned to death.

We know that Mary would have been familiar with the Hebrew Scriptures in her time. She would have certainly been familiar with the prophesies of Isaiah, such as the one we heard earlier today that foretold of the coming Messiah who would save his people, establish a kingdom and rule it with justice and righteousness. Living in a time of Roman occupation and oppression, she would have known that the coming of the Messiah had been predicted for hundreds of years, and she may have thought that God's choice to bring the Messiah to earth through her womb was an incredible honor. Marys song of praise, known as the Magnificat, indicates that she had some idea of the magnitude of this pregnancy. "Surely from now on all generations will call me blessed," she sings. Mary couldn't have fully understood the implications of her decision, but still she welcomed the mystery of God into her life, into her very womb.

Ann Johnson explores the life of Mary, the mother of Jesus, in her book Miryam of Nazareth. She explains that the name Mary is a derivative of the Hebrew word Miryam, meaning "Rebellion." Although Mary isn't generally thought of as a rebellious sort, the Magnificat suggests that she was quite aware of the social ills of her time and proud to take part in bringing forth a savior who would right the injustices of her day. Mary was excited to take part in the plans of a God who "has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty."

In her poem Annunciation, Johnson captures the spirit of a young woman who was willing to say yes to Divine Mystery, even though she didn't fully understand how everything would take place.

In those days when the people of Judah were oppressed
in the reign of King Herod
in the town of Nazareth there was a woman named Miryam.
In prayer Miryam watched.
Eyes of her soul turned inward, she watched.
Ears of her spirit stretched out, she watched.
Watched for Yahweh in stillness.
In awe Miryam listened.
With the firm beat of her heart, she listened.
With the deep stroke of her breath, she listened.
Listened for Yahweh in stillness.
In the stillness Miryam reached out.
Mind alive, she reached out.
Memory reflecting, she reached out.
Inviting her God to inspire.
The Shadow streamed into her being.
Greeting the core of her soul.
Hearing, she stretched for the life source.
Embracing the quickening call.
"How is this? I know not!" she responded.
Stumbling in God's desert of time.
But you speak and all things come together.
"I will
as you say
let it be."
Her lifetime of shadowy knowing was
confirmed in the quieting joy.
Summoning cadences, ancient and deep,
Echoed the call of God's peace.
Miryam arose and went out.
Holding the knowledge of change, went out.
Accepting the newness of challenge, went out.
Went out to begin the task.
Miryam embarked on the journey.
Her mind precise for the journey.
Her soul enflamed for the journey.
Journeyed to the arms of Elizabeth.
In the warmth of those arms she knew.
Ancient pathways opning before her, she knew
Words of her people streamed from her mouth, she knew.
Knew that her God lived within her.

In my top desk drawer is a card that I bought to send to someone a couple of years ago, but I've never been able to part with it. I pull it out every once in a while and read it to remind me of its truth. On the front is a saying by the 13th Century mystic Meister Eckhart, "We are all meant to be mothers of God, for in God is always needing to be born." What might it mean if we were all mothers of God, allowing God to be born in and through us at all moments? Mary gave birth to the Divine Mystery, who came to live and dwell among us in human form. Theologian Wendy Wright notes that "Mary is seen not simply as an historical personage, the young Jewish wife of Joseph, who was the mother of Jesus. She is also, in the shared understanding of our heritage, the archetype of all humankind. She is humanity responding to the breath of the Spirit, assenting to the indwelling of God."

Like Mary, we too have been invited to take part in birthing the Mystery. "We can refuse. Or we can assent and let the most intimate recesses of our lives be inhabited, transformed, made new by God. But the divine action is neither manipulative nor invasive. It requires our conscious cooperation. We must nurture the Spirit into maturity in our lives"

Saying yes to Divine Mystery doesn't mean that we have to fully comprehend what that will mean for our lives. Like Mary, we can't fully understand the implications of a decision to bring God into being, but through faith we can welcome the Mystery and allow it to bloom in and through us. As the Christ Child is born into our midst again this week, let us welcome that mystery with open arms.

Amen.