Sermon: Mary's Song

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Mary's Song

By Caroline Dean

December 13, 2009

[ Audio (mp3, 5.0Mb) ]

r text this morning is from Luke Chapter 1: Mary has just received the news from an angel that she will give birth to a son. And so she hurries off to be with her relative Elizabeth, who will also give birth to a son. They celebrate together and Elizabeth proclaims, “Why is this that the mother of my Lord comes to me? Blessed is she who has believes that God would fulfill God's promises.” And then Mary sings a song...

Let us pray: May the words of my mouth and the pondering of our hearts be acceptable unto you, Our Rock and Our Redeemer.

During my time at Duke Divinity I served as a chaplain intern at the Murdoch Center in Butner, North Carolina. The Murdoch Center is a state-run facility where people with acute mental and developmental disability live and receive care. During my internship, I visited two of their cottages on a regular basis and I got to know a few of the residents. They called us the “Monday Preachers” because we came on Mondays. It was a challenging experience to build relationships with people who often have difficulties communicating verbally and who are, on the surface, so different from the average person with whom you interact.

One of my assignments during my time there was to preach a sermon in their chapel service. Needless to say you cannot preach a typical sermon in this environment because you have to be sensitive to how Murdoch's residents engage with the world. My weekly interactions with some of my closer friends in the cottages taught me some simple things that were invaluable to me in the sermon-writing process. And so, learning from these friends, I preached a sermon on the different ways that we can worship God, featuring David dancing in front of the ark.

I began the sermon with a scripture from 1 Samuel, and after a few seconds, suddenly, a song interrupts, and my friend Colin comes down the center aisle in a “bible-times” robe, with a plastic jeweled crown on his head, dancing in front of the Ark of the Covenant. The atmosphere was electric. Everyone clapped their hands and a few folks even danced along with David. This impromptu dance session communicated more about worship than any other illustration or anecdote from the sermon that day.

In this advent season, I am reminded by our classic Christmas Carols that music communicates something that words alone cannot express. Song is a language that extends beyond words and bridges communication difficulties.

In our scriptures today, we get a glimpse into the excitement and joy of the interaction between Elizabeth and Mary. They have both had miraculous encounters with God, resulting in the birth of new life and new hope. And so they get together to celebrate! After the miraculous news from an angel that Mary will give birth to a child, she hurries to the town where Elizabeth lives. And Elizabeth exclaims, “blessed is she who has believes that God would fulfill God's promises!” And then suddenly, surprisingly, Mary bursts into song.

I have had a few chuckles to myself imagining a literalist reading of this passage. I imagine Mary and Elizabeth hugging and chatting like old friends do, and then suddenly “Sound of Music-Style”, Mary bursts into song. I often joke with Brantley that I want to peak over the wall of the convent that runs along our back yard to spy on the nuns. I have some sort of fantasy that they are dancing around fountains and whistling in unison while they garden. But anyway, I digress…

In this passage, Mary's Song interrupts the narrative much like the song and dance of King David in the Murdoch Center Chapel.

In Jesus' birth narratives, there is a lot of journeying and a lot of hurrying. Mary runs to visit Elizabeth. Mary and Joseph have the baby “on the road.” The shepherds hurry off to find Jesus. And then in Matthew's account the Magi journey from afar and Mary and Joseph hurry off into the night to hide from Herod, who is planning the mass murder of the newborn sons of Bethlehem. And every time someone turns around an angel interrupts with exciting news! The story is action-packed and fast moving.

In our season of Advent, we do a good job communicating the energy and excitement of this season. We are good at rushing and packing in the action. But on the other hand, we are often so overwhelmed by the chaos of this season that we are happy to just to emotionally, and financially survive until January 1st.

In the midst of the busy story of Jesus' birth, there are also several moments when key characters interrupt with a song. Zechariah, Elizabeth's husband mirrors Mary as he sings a song of joy in response to the birth of his son. Even the angels interrupt the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks with a song. In key moments of this frenetic narrative we are pleasantly surprised by moments of poetry, and song. A few characters get a chance to stop and vocalize how they are processing this experience. They hit the “pause button” on the story and wonder, “what is going on?” And so in the midst of the frenetic excitement, these songs provide us space to explore the meaning of the story.

In our advent season, more of us could use a “pause button.” In Luke 2, after Jesus' birth and the shepherds travel to meet him, the author writes that “Mary treasures these things and she ponders them in her heart.” Advent is meant to be a time of energy and excitement paired with pondering and treasuring. Advent is meant to be an interruption from our every day life; however, this interruption is usually only characterized by busyness and chaos rather than pondering and treasuring the larger story and the meaning of Christmas.

And so when Mary gets a chance to stop, what does she ponder about; what does she treasure?

First, we find that Mary sings a song about God. More specifically, Mary sings a song of worship. Mary's “soul magnifies” God, which is why this text is called the “Magnificat” in Latin. Mary declares that God is great. Her song illumines God's character and makes God “magnified” for the rest of us to see. Advent is a time when explore and celebrate who God is; advent is a time of worship.

Secondly, we find that God “magnifies” Mary! God lifts up the lowly and considers the humble. God's “magnification” is the opposite of ours. In our society we hold a magnifying glass up to those who are rich and powerful, not to those who are homeless, marginalized and oppressed. God reverses this magnification and God says “I consider and even favor, the lowly and the humble.” This is why Jesus is such a threat to Herod and to the ruling systems of his day, because Jesus' message empowers those who are suppressed and ignored. In the 1980s the government of Guatemala banned Mary's song because it was considered subversive and politically dangerous. Much like the rulers in Jesus' day, they were concerned that this message would incite riots against those in power.

So, when we get a chance to stop and ponder the meaning of this season, we find that we can enter into this story most fully by worshipping God and by participating in the great reversals of Mary's Song. How can we make it a Christmas tradition to magnify and lift up the lowly, the humble and the marginalized? (PAUSE)

Lastly, when we get a chance to ponder this advent season, like Mary, we wonder, “who is God?” And, “how is God connected to all of this?” And when we do, we also discover that God remembers us, just as God remembers Mary. Somehow in this busy season of Christ's birth God is mindful of us. God's love breaks through the chaos. God's love interrupts like a song, communicating peace, love and hope beyond words.

Sometimes I find that it is difficult to hear from God. And when I hope to “hear from God” I do not mean that I literally hear God's voice. Rather, I mean hearing God's peace, being inspired by God's calling, and remembering that God remembers me. When I get the chance to preach, it is my job, like Mary, to ponder and treasure these things. But that job often comes with doubt and difficulty as I struggle to “hear” from God.

During my time at the Murdoch center I developed a wonderful relationship with a woman name Vicki. She lives in one of their elderly cottages. Vicki is in a wheelchair, and her disability is located in her body. Mentally she is sharp, but physically, her body will not allow her to express herself easily. She communicates with body language and short shaky whispers. And this always made me uncomfortable and I felt awkward because Vicki would often try hard to tell me something and I simply could not understand her. But she was gracious and patient with me and my frustrated attempts to repeat back what she was saying.

During one of my first visits with Vicki she was holding onto one of those tiny orange New Testament Gideon Bibles that people hand out. And one of the staff mentioned that Vicki loves having someone read her Bible to her every night. And so the staff person mentioned that she would love a Bible with larger print. And so I mentioned it to Jim, the staff chaplain and he gave me with a Bible with pictures and large print for Vicki. And so during my next visit with Vicki I delivered this gift from Jim. Vicki was thrilled; she communicated that clearly with her hugs and her smile. I blabbed on for a bit and showed her the Bible, and then she motioned for me to get something out of her bag on the back of her wheelchair. I pulled out a few things and she shook her head, no, and then finally I pulled out a plastic rose and she shook her head yes. Last week I learned from a staff person that Vicki was the homecoming queen at the spring dance. I asked her if she won this rose at the dance for being “the queen.” And she nodded enthusiastically. The dance is a big deal around Murdoch. I congratulated Vicki on being the queen of the dance, but she kept interrupting me, trying to tell me something. I was confused and embarrassed, but she kept repeating herself despite the difficulty. I said, “Vicki I am sorry but it is hard for me to understand you” (like she needed me to remind her of that…). Finally I leaned in close and she tried one more time. And for the first time, I heard Vicki clearly say, “You take it.” I was suddenly humbled and taken off guard; she wanted me to take her treasured rose. She was reciprocating my gift with her own. I thanked her and gave her another big hug. It was like all of our communication issues broke down in this display of affection and gratitude for one another. Despite the struggle, and perhaps even because of it, that interaction is very meaningful to me.

This is what advent means to me this year. It means trusting that God breaks through despite our impatient, bumbling effort to communicate and understand the story of Jesus' birth. It means that God breaks through the broken lines of communication with a gift of peace for all nations. Advent means that God remembers us. And that God's affection for us is deep despite the difficulty that we often experience in knowing and understanding God. In order to interrupt our difficult lines of communication, God came to be with us. This is what the word “advent” means “to draw near, to approach.” And this is why Mary sings, because God has broken through, and God is with us. And so even when words fail and communication seems daunting, let us draw near to God in song and in spirit. Amen.