Scripture
Luke 2:17-21 (Today’s New International Version, ©2005)
17 When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. 19 But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. 20 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
21 On the eighth day, when it was time to circumcise the child, he was named Jesus, the name the angel had given him before he was conceived.
Let us pray: God, go with us as we journey into Your word. Go with us as we are. In the name of Jesus. Amen
Scripture
Luke 2:17-21 (Today’s New International Version, ©2005)
17 When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. 19 But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. 20 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
21 On the eighth day, when it was time to circumcise the child, he was named Jesus, the name the angel had given him before he was conceived.
And when they had seen him, they spread the word. We love a good story! And this was just about the best story around—it had everything, a humble beginning, unexpected heros and heroines, miraculous appearances, great visual effects, and a feel good ending…who could ask for more? So now what?
Here we are, the day after Christmas—so where do we go from here? I believe that our scripture passage today tells us everything we need to know. On Christmas Eves past, we tended to end the story with the great line “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart”—the lights dimmed, the candles were lit, and “Silent Night” rang out. And we all went home to Santa and stockings, and years ago, to trying to figure out how to put together the toys that seemed like a good idea at the time. But, in reality, these words are just the beginning of the story.
Let’s take one more trip to Bethlehem before we move on this year. These little verses answer my “Now what?” question in 3 very important ways. Let’s look at each of them. First, the shepherds spread the word—they tell the story and all who hear the story are amazed. Mary, on the other hand, keeps the story in her heart—treasures it, and ponders it, perhaps for years to come. And finally, the shepherds return to the fields and glorify God—they give credit for the story where it is due—to God who fulfills the words of the angels in every way.
And so here we have it—tell, treasure and praise. It’s really quite simple... And quite profound. It’s about the priority of story, God’s story, Jesus’ story, Mary’s story, our story. Nothing takes the place of story and it is from story that share our truths with those who need what we have found and harvest what we need from the stories of others.
Here is what I think: I think that we do not celebrate our stories enough. I think that we move so fast that we speed right past the precious stories of our friends, our neighbors, and the strangers who meet us at every turn. Christmas is about story—the importance of story—the importance of remembering.
Hear an age old story from Jewish mysticism. Bal Shem Tov was a beloved rabbi and mystic at the middle of the 18th Century. It came to the time of his dying. He sent for his disciples. He told them, “I have acted as a go-between between you and God. And I am dying. Now when I am gone you must do this for yourselves.” He asked them if they knew the place in the forest where he stood when he went to talk to God. He told them to go there and to stand and call to God. He told them to light the fire as he had taught them and to say the same prayer as he prayed. He said, “Do all this and God will come.”
After he died, the first generation did exactly as Bal Shem Tov had told them and God always came. But by the second generation, the people had forgotten how to light the fire in the way they had been taught. Even so, they stood in the same place and prayed the prayer and God came. By the third generation, the people had forgotten how to light the fire and they forgot how to get to the place in the forest. But, they remembered the prayer. They prayed and God came.
In the fourth generation, everyone had forgotten how to build the fire, no one knew the place in the forest, and the prayer itself could not be recalled. But one person still knew the story about it all, and they told it aloud. And God still came. Now Jewish mysticism may indeed not have the same understanding of God’s revelation that we have today, but the emphasis on story is just the same. And in this focus on stories, we find some basic truths about ourselves.
We are a people of stories. We come together every week and we share where we are in our stories—we are sad, we are at peace, we are frustrated, we are relieved. But one thing remains constant—in the telling of our stories, we are human—reaching out to share who we are and to have who we are received and treasured, if you will, with love and compassion.
This is an interesting week—it is the week between hearing a very, very old story and exploring how that story is going to impact the “newness” of the year ahead. It is a week, where some of us wrestle with resolutions, and while most of us may have given up the formality of resolutions years ago; most of us, in one small or large way or another use this time to at least reflect on how the next year may be better or, at the very least, different. I would suggest that it is a perfect time to reflect on our stories—our stories personal and our stories communal. It is a grand time to hold our stories in our hearts, to treasure them, to ponder them, if you will…to see how our stories have evolved over the last year… and to chose to give God free reign over where our stories will travel in the year to come.
And it is in the end of the story told in our brief scripture story that gives us the clue to where our stories fit with God’s. All these things happened—journey, birth, angels, and shepherds—God came to earth as a tiny baby. At the end of it all, his parents followed faithfully what they had been told was God’s plan. At the time of circumcision, he was named “Jesus” just as the angel said even before he was conceived. Mary and Joseph were faithful, just as God calls us to be faithful to this story and to ours.
My very good friend in New York shares my love for reading and always goes out of her way to send me books that she somehow knows will speak to me. This Christmas was no different—so being the brat that I am, I didn’t wait for Christmas, but opened her present and dove right in. This year’s book is the story of Episcopal Bishop Gene Robinson. This is what he has to say about story—God’s story and our place in it: “the Gospel story is our story. We belong right in the center of things, and that is very good news. But we don’t get to stay there. We have to go out in the streets and find all the people who still think they’re not worthy, who still think God couldn’t possibly love them, and bring them inside the temple. We need to learn to run and leap and dance and laugh and sing as one of God’s own and invite others to dance, too.” And he continues, and I continue with him: “As ministers of the Gospel, ordained and lay, we’re all called to make the Gospel story—the Good News—our own and then to take it to people who don’t have the blessing of knowing and believing.”
And so, we move on in the right direction in the year to come. We talk and listen to our stories and to God’s story. Many of you heard the story of Open Circle—of what is happening out there in the Temple every Sunday—months before you came to see for yourself—we have all seen—we have all seen what it looks like when we come together to hear and celebrate God’s story of redemption, acceptance, and healing. We know what it is like to feel the love of God wrap around us and hold us just the way we are. But, our stories do not end here—just like the Christmas story—this is only the beginning! We have work to do—our stories will continue and grow in places we never thought possible. 2011 will be an historic year for each and every one of us and for Open Circle Metropolitan Community Church. Just as we spent all of Advent preparing for God’s first story, let us spend this week and next preparing our hearts and our hands for what is to come. “Emmanuel, Emmanuel, His name is called Emmanuel—God with us, revealed in us—His name is called Emmanuel!” God, You loved us and You came into our world and into our hearts—let us go forth with Your story and with ours. Amen and amen.
Welcome!
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
Advent 4--Hope Fulfilled-The Birth of All Things New 12-19-2010
Scripture
John 1:1-14 (Today’s New International Version, )
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The Word was with God in the beginning. Through the Word all things were made; without the Word nothing was made that has been made. In God was life, and that life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
There was a man sent from God whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.
The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from our God, the creator, full of grace and truth.
Let us pray:
Sweet little Jesus Boy they made you be born in a manger.
Sweet little Holy Child—didn’t know who you was.
Didn’t know you’d come to save us Lord, to take our sins away.
Our eyes was blind we couldn’t see, we didn’t know who you was.
Long time ago—you was born, born in a manger low—
Sweet Little Jesus Boy.
The world treat you mean Lord, treat me mean too,
But that’s how things is down here: we don’t know who you is.
You done told us how—we is a tryin’
Master, you done show’d us how, even when you’s dyin’
Just seem like we can’t do right, look how we treated you.
But please sir, forgive us Lord, we didn’t know it was you.
Sweet little Jesus Boy, born long time ago..
Sweet little Holy Child, and we didn’t know who you was.
I first prayed this prayer and sang this song more than 40 years ago, but never did I understand its truth the way I do today. Even so, I’m left with the question “Why?” Why didn’t they know then, and, certainly, why don’t we know now? We had God sending messengers, appearing in dreams; choruses of angels springing from the heavens on the hillside, wise men arriving on the scene, and yet, John says, in our scripture for today: “the world did not recognize Him. He came to that which was His own, but His own did not receive Him.” It kinda makes you wonder—what would it have taken then, and what does it take now? For Christmas, this year, I asked myself, would I have understood, would I have known who Jesus was? Would I have been one of the shepherds kneeling in reverence, or would I have been one of those busy, bustling folk passing by right outside the stall, and missing the wonder of what was going on inside?
And so, this week, I have spent considerable time reflecting on that very question—would I have missed Christmas? Now, let’s be honest, I can’t really know what I would have done or even who I would have been had I lived at the time—I like to think of myself, at the very least, as the Innkeeper—not sure of what was going on, but at least kind enough, to make room for the miracle to unfold. For the openness to miracle is the beginning of Christmas and the beginning of knowing who Jesus is—for your life, and for the world. The innkeeper made a start—the rest was up to God. And is that how miracles happen, even today. Have you ever wondered what the innkeeper thought as these shepherds came and the star shone down? I realize that for some of you, I’m asking you to stretch the limits of reasonable, logical thinking, and you are right, I am doing just that. For miracle also means that we grant some “grace” in the telling of the story—that the miracle is in the event of the birth of the Christ-child, not in the details of the distance from the hills where the shepherds kept watch and whether or not they could have made it to Bethlehem as quickly as the Christmas carols portray. The miracle is in the changing of the hearts of those shepherds—and the very fact that they looked up to see the angels at all. The miracle is that on the busiest night in decades, the innkeeper managed to think of a way to give a young girl a place to give birth.
We want bigness—bright lights, flashing stars, and huge cathedrals. But that is not miracle. The miracle is in the smallest of things. Why, think of the innkeeper. The innkeeper was tired. He had checked in people all day. All he wanted was some rest, tomorrow would be another busy day. And then came a knock. A knock—he had no room—why not just ignore it, they would surely go away. But something stirred in him, something said get up and answer, even though you have nothing left—no rooms and, certainly, no patience. But something stirred and the miracle began.
And, so it is in our lives as well—something stirs and the miracle begins. Let me tell you a story. There was once a painfully shy little girl. She wore coke bottle glasses and she was skinny—making her look very much like a baby bird seeking for its mother or so she was told. She was never very popular, never won a beauty contest or any other contest for that matter. She was terrified of speaking in public and she had no particular social graces and was often ignored. Her biggest claim to fame was that she could read books at lightning speed and could sing a note or two—but not nearly as well as some of the other kids. At 16, she announced to anyone who bothered to listen, that she felt called by God to serve the church. Even her relatives, all of whom truly loved her, thought her a bit “touched” in the head. But God knew better. And God knew, that if that painfully shy, introverted, timid, little girl would listen to the stirrings in her heart that God could and would do the rest. That, my friends, is miracle—miracle that took place over the course of 40 plus years and is still going on this day.
Did the innkeeper ever know the breadth and depth of the miracle that happened in his stable that night? Probably not. He is one of the many characters who appear briefly in the stories in the New Testament and then disappear—never to be heard of again. We don’t know whether or not he followed the life of that baby—more than likely not. But I’d like to believe that he knew that it was important for him to open that door that night and that he felt good for taking that young girl and her husband in. I’d like to think that when he heard the baby cry, that he smiled, knowing he had done a good and grace-filled thing.
So, this week, I invite you to listen to the stirrings in your heart: to write them down perhaps. Share them with someone, share them with God. This year, when Jesus comes again as a baby, be present to the awe and wonder. This year, let us not be among the millions of folks who don’t know who Jesus is—let us be among those who listen to those stirrings of love and gratitude. And, so, it is likely that this week, at least one person, a clerk in a store, the person in front of you in the long check-out line, your neighbor—someone will more than likely ask you if you are ready for Christmas. We have spent the weeks of Advent becoming prepared for Christmas. We have spoken of hope and light—the same light that our Gospel lesson heralds. We talked about the faith and trust of Mary and the joy of the shepherds. We have worked on opening our hearts to the completeness of Christmas. Here is my truth then, this year, I hope that when the question is asked of you, that you will stop a moment, think of what we have spoken of along the way, and say, “why, yes, I am ready for Christmas. This year, I’m really ready, and I’m glad I’m ready!” You’ll probably astound them with your answer, we are so ready to hear “no”. Let’s make it a “yes” Christmas this year. Let us go joyfully into the week saying “yes”! Yes, we are ready, come, Lord, Jesus, come! Amen and amen.
John 1:1-14 (Today’s New International Version, )
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The Word was with God in the beginning. Through the Word all things were made; without the Word nothing was made that has been made. In God was life, and that life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
There was a man sent from God whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.
The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from our God, the creator, full of grace and truth.
Let us pray:
Sweet little Jesus Boy they made you be born in a manger.
Sweet little Holy Child—didn’t know who you was.
Didn’t know you’d come to save us Lord, to take our sins away.
Our eyes was blind we couldn’t see, we didn’t know who you was.
Long time ago—you was born, born in a manger low—
Sweet Little Jesus Boy.
The world treat you mean Lord, treat me mean too,
But that’s how things is down here: we don’t know who you is.
You done told us how—we is a tryin’
Master, you done show’d us how, even when you’s dyin’
Just seem like we can’t do right, look how we treated you.
But please sir, forgive us Lord, we didn’t know it was you.
Sweet little Jesus Boy, born long time ago..
Sweet little Holy Child, and we didn’t know who you was.
I first prayed this prayer and sang this song more than 40 years ago, but never did I understand its truth the way I do today. Even so, I’m left with the question “Why?” Why didn’t they know then, and, certainly, why don’t we know now? We had God sending messengers, appearing in dreams; choruses of angels springing from the heavens on the hillside, wise men arriving on the scene, and yet, John says, in our scripture for today: “the world did not recognize Him. He came to that which was His own, but His own did not receive Him.” It kinda makes you wonder—what would it have taken then, and what does it take now? For Christmas, this year, I asked myself, would I have understood, would I have known who Jesus was? Would I have been one of the shepherds kneeling in reverence, or would I have been one of those busy, bustling folk passing by right outside the stall, and missing the wonder of what was going on inside?
And so, this week, I have spent considerable time reflecting on that very question—would I have missed Christmas? Now, let’s be honest, I can’t really know what I would have done or even who I would have been had I lived at the time—I like to think of myself, at the very least, as the Innkeeper—not sure of what was going on, but at least kind enough, to make room for the miracle to unfold. For the openness to miracle is the beginning of Christmas and the beginning of knowing who Jesus is—for your life, and for the world. The innkeeper made a start—the rest was up to God. And is that how miracles happen, even today. Have you ever wondered what the innkeeper thought as these shepherds came and the star shone down? I realize that for some of you, I’m asking you to stretch the limits of reasonable, logical thinking, and you are right, I am doing just that. For miracle also means that we grant some “grace” in the telling of the story—that the miracle is in the event of the birth of the Christ-child, not in the details of the distance from the hills where the shepherds kept watch and whether or not they could have made it to Bethlehem as quickly as the Christmas carols portray. The miracle is in the changing of the hearts of those shepherds—and the very fact that they looked up to see the angels at all. The miracle is that on the busiest night in decades, the innkeeper managed to think of a way to give a young girl a place to give birth.
We want bigness—bright lights, flashing stars, and huge cathedrals. But that is not miracle. The miracle is in the smallest of things. Why, think of the innkeeper. The innkeeper was tired. He had checked in people all day. All he wanted was some rest, tomorrow would be another busy day. And then came a knock. A knock—he had no room—why not just ignore it, they would surely go away. But something stirred in him, something said get up and answer, even though you have nothing left—no rooms and, certainly, no patience. But something stirred and the miracle began.
And, so it is in our lives as well—something stirs and the miracle begins. Let me tell you a story. There was once a painfully shy little girl. She wore coke bottle glasses and she was skinny—making her look very much like a baby bird seeking for its mother or so she was told. She was never very popular, never won a beauty contest or any other contest for that matter. She was terrified of speaking in public and she had no particular social graces and was often ignored. Her biggest claim to fame was that she could read books at lightning speed and could sing a note or two—but not nearly as well as some of the other kids. At 16, she announced to anyone who bothered to listen, that she felt called by God to serve the church. Even her relatives, all of whom truly loved her, thought her a bit “touched” in the head. But God knew better. And God knew, that if that painfully shy, introverted, timid, little girl would listen to the stirrings in her heart that God could and would do the rest. That, my friends, is miracle—miracle that took place over the course of 40 plus years and is still going on this day.
Did the innkeeper ever know the breadth and depth of the miracle that happened in his stable that night? Probably not. He is one of the many characters who appear briefly in the stories in the New Testament and then disappear—never to be heard of again. We don’t know whether or not he followed the life of that baby—more than likely not. But I’d like to believe that he knew that it was important for him to open that door that night and that he felt good for taking that young girl and her husband in. I’d like to think that when he heard the baby cry, that he smiled, knowing he had done a good and grace-filled thing.
So, this week, I invite you to listen to the stirrings in your heart: to write them down perhaps. Share them with someone, share them with God. This year, when Jesus comes again as a baby, be present to the awe and wonder. This year, let us not be among the millions of folks who don’t know who Jesus is—let us be among those who listen to those stirrings of love and gratitude. And, so, it is likely that this week, at least one person, a clerk in a store, the person in front of you in the long check-out line, your neighbor—someone will more than likely ask you if you are ready for Christmas. We have spent the weeks of Advent becoming prepared for Christmas. We have spoken of hope and light—the same light that our Gospel lesson heralds. We talked about the faith and trust of Mary and the joy of the shepherds. We have worked on opening our hearts to the completeness of Christmas. Here is my truth then, this year, I hope that when the question is asked of you, that you will stop a moment, think of what we have spoken of along the way, and say, “why, yes, I am ready for Christmas. This year, I’m really ready, and I’m glad I’m ready!” You’ll probably astound them with your answer, we are so ready to hear “no”. Let’s make it a “yes” Christmas this year. Let us go joyfully into the week saying “yes”! Yes, we are ready, come, Lord, Jesus, come! Amen and amen.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Advent 3: Hope for All: We Sing with Joy 12-12-2010
Scripture: Luke 2: 1-14 &Matthew 2: 1-9
In those days, Caesar Augustus published a decree ordering a census of the whole Roman world. And so Joseph went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to “the city of David”—Bethlehem, in Judea, because Joseph was of the house and lineage of David; he went to register with Mary, his espoused wife who was pregnant. While they were there, the time came for her delivery. She gave birth to her firstborn, a son; she put him in a simple cloth wrapped like a receiving blanket.
There were shepherds in the area living in the fields and keeping night watch by turns over their flock. The angel of God appeared to them, and the glory of God shone around them; there were very much afraid. The angel said to them, “You have nothing to fear! I come to proclaim good news to you—news of a great joy to be shared by the whole people. Today in David’s city, a savior—the Messiah—has been born to you. Let this be a sign to you; you’ll find an infant wrapped in a simple cloth, lying in a manger.” Suddenly, there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in high heaven! And on earth, peace to those on whom God’s favor rests.”
After Jesus’ birthd—astrologers from the East arrived in Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the newborn ruler of the Jews” We observed his star at its rising and have come to pay homage.” Herod spoke with them first. After their audience with the ruler, they set out. The star which they had observed at its rising went ahead of them until it came to a standstill over the place where the child lay. They were overjoyed at seeing the star and, upon entering the house, found the child with Mary, his mother. They opened their coffers and presented the child with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Let’s go back to our Gospel reading today…
This is the season of joy—joy to the world—blessed joy—baby in a manger joy—shepherds watching sheep joy—joy, joy, joy! But, it’s just possible, if we are really honest, that some of us, some of the time, want very much to walk beside good old Ebeneezer Scrooge and utter bah humbug! Sometimes the need to retreat is a healthy desire to flee the glee, quiet our minds, and turn our thoughts to simpler things. But, sometimes it is more. For some of us, some of the time, the joy is simply too much to bear in a world so full of sorrow and struggle. The shepherds, frightened out of their minds, must have felt some initial resistance to joy-- Good news in the midst of great tribulation…the very embodiment of what I often call “sacred contradictions”. Our lives are full of them and they are intertwined with our relationships, our loves, our passions, our very selves.
For a very long time, while I searched for some sort of cosmic and psychic peace, I simply mis-understood the concept of wholeness and I believe that I am not alone. Taking my cue from my simplistic reading of the many books on holistic spirituality that I devoured in my early attempts to come to terms with my ragged theological journey and work out my relationship with God, I believed that wholeness (or enlightenment, or inner peace) meant that everything simply came together as a whole and “made sense”. The more I searched for that holistic, cosmic harmonic “oneness”, the less I felt the wholeness I desired. And the farther away the very God I sought seemed to be.
Eventually, I ceased my seeking for the narrow kind of wholeness that I had previously viewed as imperative and opened myself up to the calling of God’s “sacred contradictions”. Leaving behind my either/or thinking enabled me to walk maturely into the blessed joy found in both/and awareness. And I believe that scriptures are full of the call of these apparent contradictions.
What then, of these sacred contradictions as we walk through the Advent Season—with Christmas so closely upon us, that we can feel the anticipation of waking up on Christmas morning and gathering with friends and family for a feast of joy! For those of you who bring no sadness, no turmoil, no “mixed feelings”, as we introspective folks like to say, into this season, I say “bless you and bless God for your good fortune”. For the rest of us, I invite you to consider the call to hold these “sacred contradictions” in your heart this Advent and Christmas and allow the Holy Spirit to give you the ability to fully experience all the feelings, thoughts, memories, sorrow, and joy that this season brings. For in doing so, I believe, that our hearts will be more able and willing to bring our whole selves to worship the Christ and receive the blessed joy that God has in store for us.
Embracing sorrow, struggle, and turmoil at this time of seemingly rampant happiness and gaiety seems almost sacrilegious. Kahil Gibran says this about sorrow and joy: “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?” This makes sense to me even in my simplest way of thinking: As I unite my sorrow and my joy in the embracing of both, the sorrow becomes meaningful, the joy becomes more abundant. And the apparent tension between the two disappears in the evolving “sacred contradiction” which leads to joy.
Look at the Christmas story itself—it’s full of these sacred contradictions—calling us to hold two “impossibles” in our minds at once. A virgin gives birth to the Savior of the world; Joseph is expected to love and care for a child who is not his own; shepherds, awakened by heavenly visitors are afraid for their lives and yet, eager to meet and pay homage to this child. Jesus is born in a manger—yet, destined to bring the reign of God’s justice to the earth.
And so I say to you today, embrace your complete experience of this season and the birth of the Savior—the sorrows and the joys, the pain and the gladness, the turmoil and the peace. I want to share a story with you. Last year was my first Christmas Season after a great loss in my life. And all of my sacred contradictions came to life in the three months between October and Christmas and God used every one of these in my own spiritual formation and growth. For me, my moment of truth last year, centered on decorating the Christmas tree. Now Terri and I have separate tasks in holiday decorating—she brings in all the boxes and then admires what I do with the decorations. It works for us and we began our decorating just as we did last year. Terri set up the tree and I decided to let the branches “air out”. A week later, even the dogs weren’t buying my story of why the branches needed air, and I had to come to terms with the fact that I couldn’t bring myself to put the ornaments on the tree. But as I opened myself up to hear the healing that God was holding out for me, I knew that it was time to “do the tree”. And so, I did. In spite of my telling myself that it would be painful to hang the shiny ornaments on the tree, as if each one reflected my then still raw grief back to me, it was a joy to behold when I finished it. Some ‘sacred contradictions’ are easier to hold than others, and yours this year may be mildly difficult or may feel like torture or somewhere in between. Whatever the case, I believe that God will grace with joy and peace your willingness to move from a dichotomous way of thinking that insists that you can only embrace one “truth” at a time to a “let me hold them all in my hands at once” way of being.
Let us return to the angels, to Mary and Joseph, to the shepherds and animals—let us open our hearts to the joy of a baby—not just any baby, but a baby that would bring in the reign of God’s justice and peace. Let us say with the angels, “Glory to God in the highest!” May we all have peace this Christmas season and may joy take us by surprise again and again. Amen and Amen
Reflection Question:
Questions for reflection and study--
1. The distance form Nazareth to Bethlehem was about 70 miles. What would it be like to be Joseph taking that weeklong walk from Nazareth to Bethlehem? For Mary?
2. What, for you, is the significance of the place and circumstances around Jesus’ birth?
3. In reality, shepherds were an outcast group. How do you see “sacred contradictions” working out in the angels’ message to them?
4. The Magi made a long journey to see Jesus. Reflect on your own journey. What have you experienced along the way?
5. Both the shepherds and Magi are fleeting subjects in the story of Jesus’ birth. What impact do you imagine this experience may have had on them?
6. What gifts would you bring or will you bring to Jesus this year?
In those days, Caesar Augustus published a decree ordering a census of the whole Roman world. And so Joseph went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to “the city of David”—Bethlehem, in Judea, because Joseph was of the house and lineage of David; he went to register with Mary, his espoused wife who was pregnant. While they were there, the time came for her delivery. She gave birth to her firstborn, a son; she put him in a simple cloth wrapped like a receiving blanket.
There were shepherds in the area living in the fields and keeping night watch by turns over their flock. The angel of God appeared to them, and the glory of God shone around them; there were very much afraid. The angel said to them, “You have nothing to fear! I come to proclaim good news to you—news of a great joy to be shared by the whole people. Today in David’s city, a savior—the Messiah—has been born to you. Let this be a sign to you; you’ll find an infant wrapped in a simple cloth, lying in a manger.” Suddenly, there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in high heaven! And on earth, peace to those on whom God’s favor rests.”
After Jesus’ birthd—astrologers from the East arrived in Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the newborn ruler of the Jews” We observed his star at its rising and have come to pay homage.” Herod spoke with them first. After their audience with the ruler, they set out. The star which they had observed at its rising went ahead of them until it came to a standstill over the place where the child lay. They were overjoyed at seeing the star and, upon entering the house, found the child with Mary, his mother. They opened their coffers and presented the child with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Let’s go back to our Gospel reading today…
This is the season of joy—joy to the world—blessed joy—baby in a manger joy—shepherds watching sheep joy—joy, joy, joy! But, it’s just possible, if we are really honest, that some of us, some of the time, want very much to walk beside good old Ebeneezer Scrooge and utter bah humbug! Sometimes the need to retreat is a healthy desire to flee the glee, quiet our minds, and turn our thoughts to simpler things. But, sometimes it is more. For some of us, some of the time, the joy is simply too much to bear in a world so full of sorrow and struggle. The shepherds, frightened out of their minds, must have felt some initial resistance to joy-- Good news in the midst of great tribulation…the very embodiment of what I often call “sacred contradictions”. Our lives are full of them and they are intertwined with our relationships, our loves, our passions, our very selves.
For a very long time, while I searched for some sort of cosmic and psychic peace, I simply mis-understood the concept of wholeness and I believe that I am not alone. Taking my cue from my simplistic reading of the many books on holistic spirituality that I devoured in my early attempts to come to terms with my ragged theological journey and work out my relationship with God, I believed that wholeness (or enlightenment, or inner peace) meant that everything simply came together as a whole and “made sense”. The more I searched for that holistic, cosmic harmonic “oneness”, the less I felt the wholeness I desired. And the farther away the very God I sought seemed to be.
Eventually, I ceased my seeking for the narrow kind of wholeness that I had previously viewed as imperative and opened myself up to the calling of God’s “sacred contradictions”. Leaving behind my either/or thinking enabled me to walk maturely into the blessed joy found in both/and awareness. And I believe that scriptures are full of the call of these apparent contradictions.
What then, of these sacred contradictions as we walk through the Advent Season—with Christmas so closely upon us, that we can feel the anticipation of waking up on Christmas morning and gathering with friends and family for a feast of joy! For those of you who bring no sadness, no turmoil, no “mixed feelings”, as we introspective folks like to say, into this season, I say “bless you and bless God for your good fortune”. For the rest of us, I invite you to consider the call to hold these “sacred contradictions” in your heart this Advent and Christmas and allow the Holy Spirit to give you the ability to fully experience all the feelings, thoughts, memories, sorrow, and joy that this season brings. For in doing so, I believe, that our hearts will be more able and willing to bring our whole selves to worship the Christ and receive the blessed joy that God has in store for us.
Embracing sorrow, struggle, and turmoil at this time of seemingly rampant happiness and gaiety seems almost sacrilegious. Kahil Gibran says this about sorrow and joy: “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?” This makes sense to me even in my simplest way of thinking: As I unite my sorrow and my joy in the embracing of both, the sorrow becomes meaningful, the joy becomes more abundant. And the apparent tension between the two disappears in the evolving “sacred contradiction” which leads to joy.
Look at the Christmas story itself—it’s full of these sacred contradictions—calling us to hold two “impossibles” in our minds at once. A virgin gives birth to the Savior of the world; Joseph is expected to love and care for a child who is not his own; shepherds, awakened by heavenly visitors are afraid for their lives and yet, eager to meet and pay homage to this child. Jesus is born in a manger—yet, destined to bring the reign of God’s justice to the earth.
And so I say to you today, embrace your complete experience of this season and the birth of the Savior—the sorrows and the joys, the pain and the gladness, the turmoil and the peace. I want to share a story with you. Last year was my first Christmas Season after a great loss in my life. And all of my sacred contradictions came to life in the three months between October and Christmas and God used every one of these in my own spiritual formation and growth. For me, my moment of truth last year, centered on decorating the Christmas tree. Now Terri and I have separate tasks in holiday decorating—she brings in all the boxes and then admires what I do with the decorations. It works for us and we began our decorating just as we did last year. Terri set up the tree and I decided to let the branches “air out”. A week later, even the dogs weren’t buying my story of why the branches needed air, and I had to come to terms with the fact that I couldn’t bring myself to put the ornaments on the tree. But as I opened myself up to hear the healing that God was holding out for me, I knew that it was time to “do the tree”. And so, I did. In spite of my telling myself that it would be painful to hang the shiny ornaments on the tree, as if each one reflected my then still raw grief back to me, it was a joy to behold when I finished it. Some ‘sacred contradictions’ are easier to hold than others, and yours this year may be mildly difficult or may feel like torture or somewhere in between. Whatever the case, I believe that God will grace with joy and peace your willingness to move from a dichotomous way of thinking that insists that you can only embrace one “truth” at a time to a “let me hold them all in my hands at once” way of being.
Let us return to the angels, to Mary and Joseph, to the shepherds and animals—let us open our hearts to the joy of a baby—not just any baby, but a baby that would bring in the reign of God’s justice and peace. Let us say with the angels, “Glory to God in the highest!” May we all have peace this Christmas season and may joy take us by surprise again and again. Amen and Amen
Reflection Question:
Questions for reflection and study--
1. The distance form Nazareth to Bethlehem was about 70 miles. What would it be like to be Joseph taking that weeklong walk from Nazareth to Bethlehem? For Mary?
2. What, for you, is the significance of the place and circumstances around Jesus’ birth?
3. In reality, shepherds were an outcast group. How do you see “sacred contradictions” working out in the angels’ message to them?
4. The Magi made a long journey to see Jesus. Reflect on your own journey. What have you experienced along the way?
5. Both the shepherds and Magi are fleeting subjects in the story of Jesus’ birth. What impact do you imagine this experience may have had on them?
6. What gifts would you bring or will you bring to Jesus this year?
Sunday, December 5, 2010
ADVENT 2: Hope Revealed: Mary Says "Yes"
Scripture: Luke 1: 26-53 (portions) (TNIV)
In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”
Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. “How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”
The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May it be to me according to your word.” Then the angel left her.
At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, where she entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. In a loud voice she exclaimed: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy.”
And Mary said:
“My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for God has been mindful of the humble state of this servant.
From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me— holy is God’s name.
Whose mercy extends to those who fear, from generation to generation.
God has performed mighty deeds and scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.
God has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble; filled the hungry with good things, but has sent the rich away empty.”
SERMON: HOPE REVEALED: MARY SAYS "YES"
Every time I turn to the song of Mary, I feel a certain honor at being allowed to share in her words of praise and acceptance—what a precious, private moment—almost painful with anticipation. And I experience, every time, a profound awe as I come to preach on these things. Come with me into the life of this simple Hebrew woman—so willing and ready—so wise and so young. Mary has so much to teach us as we prepare our hearts for the birth of the Savior. She is the first to know what God is up to and the first to say “yes” to God’s plan for the world. Here, in her simple song, Mary shows us the primary truth about God’s wonderful gift and the right and grace-filled response that we must make. Here, in this simple prayer, Mary calls us, as only the Mother of our Savior could call us to find ourselves in right relation with the giver of this great gift.
If Mary, when the angel told her of God’s plan, had responded the way we might respond in our busy-busy and somewhat self-centered world today, it might well sound like this. “Really Gabriel, I don’t have time to do this right now. I’m just 16 and I have my life ahead of me. You should find someone who is better suited, someone who wants to be the Mother of God, for goodness’ sake, someone who knows what they are doing. I just don’t think this is going to work out; it doesn’t fit with what I want for my life.” Or, on a more serious note, Mary could have asked God to release her from a fate that would surely render her an outcast, she could have focused on the trauma that was happening to her by saying, “God, please don’t do this to me—no one will stand beside me. This is too hard. It isn’t fair, it hurts too much. Please take this pain away from me.” But Mary did neither of these things. Mary said, “I am God’s servant, may it happen as you have described.” Mary said “yes!”
What does Mary’s song—or the Magnificat as it is called—say to us, today? We sit here, present to our own doubts and fears and we hear the song of the sweet 16-year-old. But Mary did not sing this song to the angel. After the angel left, the scripture tells us that Mary went to visit Elizabeth, her cousin, who was carrying her own child who would become John the Baptizer. Even in the womb, this baby appears to recognize Jesus, in whose name he would later baptize many. Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit and confirms everything the angel told Mary. Sweet community of two women—both called to bear children who would change the world. Mary, not to be distracted, immediately shifts the attention to what God has done in her life. God has remembered her, known her for who she is, remembered that she is a child of God. Mary knows that she has been chosen by God and says, “from now on all generations will call me blessed”. But lest we think that Mary thinks otherwise, she immediately clarifies she is blessed BECAUSE the Mighty one, Yahweh, has done great things for her and she proclaims “holy is God’s name.” Mary does not let us focus on her place or deeds—she constantly points us towards God. In the remainder of her song, she continues this recitation of God’s actions. In part, she states that Yahweh “has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. Yahweh has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. Yahweh has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.” All of these statements point us toward the need to be in right relation with this God who is doing a new thing, giving a new gift.
Mary places herself in the context of right relationship and accepts the blessing that God bestows on her because of that right relationship. What can we learn from the simple song of Mary about “right relationship” as we use what she is telling us to open our hearts just a little further this week. “God has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.” Could this not mean that the proud are so filled with boastful and selfish thoughts that they cannot think about the truly important things, the deep, substantial thoughts, those that cause us as God’s children to be in right relationship with each other and with God. No, the proud are scattered in their thoughts—disjointed, separated from God and from each other—too busy thinking about themselves to think about anything else.
“God has brought down the rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble”. Mary knows that God is in control and that God’s people will be saved and lifted up when they are humble. Mary continues along the same thought: “God has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty”. When we come before God, hungry for right relationship, knowing that we are dependent on that relationship, God will fill us with good things. The child Mary conceived, Jesus, our Savior, undeniably showed us the extent to which God would go to redeem and liberate us, but His mother, Mary, this young girl from Nazareth, must first show us the meaning of right relationship with God so that we are in a place where we can receive redemption.
Mary had every reason to reject God’s special call. She was young, engaged and had certain social, religious and communal expectations placed on her. As has been pointed out in many sermons, speeches, and writings, the situation Gabriel proposed for Mary would have been, at best, tenuous, and at worst, devastating. Rather than allowing herself to fall into a chasm of despair and doubt, Mary said “let it be according to your word”. Mary made what appears to be an almost instantaneous decision to accept God’s will for her life. In my time in the ministry, I have read many writings and completed several studies on “discerning God’s will for my life”. When I meditate on Mary’s immediate and unconditional “yes” to God’s call, I wonder when it all became so complicated.
Is it that we THINK too much? Need too many answers? Want it all spelled out in four or five easy steps? Madeleine L’Engle, in her brief and beautiful poem After Annunciation gives us this interpretation of Mary’s response:
This is the irrational season
When love blooms bright and wild.
Had Mary been filled with reason
There’d have been no room for the child.
Even so, we grasp tightly what we falsely believe to be ours. What if Mary had held on to the security of her tiny world in Nazareth? What then? Oh, for the grace to be so lost in worship and praise that we can say, as Mary did, “Yes, let it be according to your word”.
We spoke last week of preparing our hearts anew this year. And, if we are to fully receive and celebrate God’s greatest gift in the birth of Jesus Christ again in our lives and our world, we must ponder Mary’s words and learn from her great wisdom.
I want to leave you with another short poem from Madeleine L’Engle. She writes:
This is no time for a child to be born,
With the earth betrayed by war & hate
And a comet slashing the sky to warn
That time runs out & the sun burns late.
This was no time for a child to be born,
In a land in the crushing grip of Rome:
Honour & truth were trampled by scorn—
Yet here did the Saviour make his home.
When is the time for love to be born?
The inn is full on the planet earth,
And by a comet the sky is torn—
Yet Love still takes the risk of birth.
Will you take the risk that Love takes? The risk to be in right relationship with God, to say “yes” to whatever is asked? To discover at the deepest level that this relationship calls us to know at our core that “it is not about us”—that it is about the promise and gift of God—that our relationship with God is itself a gift—that we are blessed to be visited by God regardless of the nature of God’s request of us. Will you find the time this Christmas to proclaim, “My soul glorifies God and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior”?
O come, Lord Jesus, come…we wait in silence and humility for you to be born in our hearts anew. Amen and amen.
Questions for Sermon Circles:
1. Mary’s life is completely changed in one quick moment. Describe a time in your experience, or in the experience of someone you know, when life’s direction was changed by one event of decision.
2. What was the experience like for Mary—what are some of the words in the passage that help you get an idea of what Mary may have been feeling?
3. At the end of the visit from the angel, what does Mary know about the child she is to bear?
4. Mary and Elizabeth form a small but significant community of women who understand what God is doing. What role does community play in our own understanding of God’s will for us?
5. What does Mary’s song (the last paragraph) tell us about the nature of God?
6. What does Mary’s song tell us about the nature of the Gospel?
7. How do you think you would have responded to the visit from the angel? At 14? At midway through your life? Now?
8. What can we learn about responding to God’s call from the way Mary responded?
In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”
Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. “How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”
The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May it be to me according to your word.” Then the angel left her.
At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, where she entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. In a loud voice she exclaimed: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy.”
And Mary said:
“My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for God has been mindful of the humble state of this servant.
From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me— holy is God’s name.
Whose mercy extends to those who fear, from generation to generation.
God has performed mighty deeds and scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.
God has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble; filled the hungry with good things, but has sent the rich away empty.”
SERMON: HOPE REVEALED: MARY SAYS "YES"
Every time I turn to the song of Mary, I feel a certain honor at being allowed to share in her words of praise and acceptance—what a precious, private moment—almost painful with anticipation. And I experience, every time, a profound awe as I come to preach on these things. Come with me into the life of this simple Hebrew woman—so willing and ready—so wise and so young. Mary has so much to teach us as we prepare our hearts for the birth of the Savior. She is the first to know what God is up to and the first to say “yes” to God’s plan for the world. Here, in her simple song, Mary shows us the primary truth about God’s wonderful gift and the right and grace-filled response that we must make. Here, in this simple prayer, Mary calls us, as only the Mother of our Savior could call us to find ourselves in right relation with the giver of this great gift.
If Mary, when the angel told her of God’s plan, had responded the way we might respond in our busy-busy and somewhat self-centered world today, it might well sound like this. “Really Gabriel, I don’t have time to do this right now. I’m just 16 and I have my life ahead of me. You should find someone who is better suited, someone who wants to be the Mother of God, for goodness’ sake, someone who knows what they are doing. I just don’t think this is going to work out; it doesn’t fit with what I want for my life.” Or, on a more serious note, Mary could have asked God to release her from a fate that would surely render her an outcast, she could have focused on the trauma that was happening to her by saying, “God, please don’t do this to me—no one will stand beside me. This is too hard. It isn’t fair, it hurts too much. Please take this pain away from me.” But Mary did neither of these things. Mary said, “I am God’s servant, may it happen as you have described.” Mary said “yes!”
What does Mary’s song—or the Magnificat as it is called—say to us, today? We sit here, present to our own doubts and fears and we hear the song of the sweet 16-year-old. But Mary did not sing this song to the angel. After the angel left, the scripture tells us that Mary went to visit Elizabeth, her cousin, who was carrying her own child who would become John the Baptizer. Even in the womb, this baby appears to recognize Jesus, in whose name he would later baptize many. Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit and confirms everything the angel told Mary. Sweet community of two women—both called to bear children who would change the world. Mary, not to be distracted, immediately shifts the attention to what God has done in her life. God has remembered her, known her for who she is, remembered that she is a child of God. Mary knows that she has been chosen by God and says, “from now on all generations will call me blessed”. But lest we think that Mary thinks otherwise, she immediately clarifies she is blessed BECAUSE the Mighty one, Yahweh, has done great things for her and she proclaims “holy is God’s name.” Mary does not let us focus on her place or deeds—she constantly points us towards God. In the remainder of her song, she continues this recitation of God’s actions. In part, she states that Yahweh “has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. Yahweh has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. Yahweh has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.” All of these statements point us toward the need to be in right relation with this God who is doing a new thing, giving a new gift.
Mary places herself in the context of right relationship and accepts the blessing that God bestows on her because of that right relationship. What can we learn from the simple song of Mary about “right relationship” as we use what she is telling us to open our hearts just a little further this week. “God has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.” Could this not mean that the proud are so filled with boastful and selfish thoughts that they cannot think about the truly important things, the deep, substantial thoughts, those that cause us as God’s children to be in right relationship with each other and with God. No, the proud are scattered in their thoughts—disjointed, separated from God and from each other—too busy thinking about themselves to think about anything else.
“God has brought down the rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble”. Mary knows that God is in control and that God’s people will be saved and lifted up when they are humble. Mary continues along the same thought: “God has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty”. When we come before God, hungry for right relationship, knowing that we are dependent on that relationship, God will fill us with good things. The child Mary conceived, Jesus, our Savior, undeniably showed us the extent to which God would go to redeem and liberate us, but His mother, Mary, this young girl from Nazareth, must first show us the meaning of right relationship with God so that we are in a place where we can receive redemption.
Mary had every reason to reject God’s special call. She was young, engaged and had certain social, religious and communal expectations placed on her. As has been pointed out in many sermons, speeches, and writings, the situation Gabriel proposed for Mary would have been, at best, tenuous, and at worst, devastating. Rather than allowing herself to fall into a chasm of despair and doubt, Mary said “let it be according to your word”. Mary made what appears to be an almost instantaneous decision to accept God’s will for her life. In my time in the ministry, I have read many writings and completed several studies on “discerning God’s will for my life”. When I meditate on Mary’s immediate and unconditional “yes” to God’s call, I wonder when it all became so complicated.
Is it that we THINK too much? Need too many answers? Want it all spelled out in four or five easy steps? Madeleine L’Engle, in her brief and beautiful poem After Annunciation gives us this interpretation of Mary’s response:
This is the irrational season
When love blooms bright and wild.
Had Mary been filled with reason
There’d have been no room for the child.
Even so, we grasp tightly what we falsely believe to be ours. What if Mary had held on to the security of her tiny world in Nazareth? What then? Oh, for the grace to be so lost in worship and praise that we can say, as Mary did, “Yes, let it be according to your word”.
We spoke last week of preparing our hearts anew this year. And, if we are to fully receive and celebrate God’s greatest gift in the birth of Jesus Christ again in our lives and our world, we must ponder Mary’s words and learn from her great wisdom.
I want to leave you with another short poem from Madeleine L’Engle. She writes:
This is no time for a child to be born,
With the earth betrayed by war & hate
And a comet slashing the sky to warn
That time runs out & the sun burns late.
This was no time for a child to be born,
In a land in the crushing grip of Rome:
Honour & truth were trampled by scorn—
Yet here did the Saviour make his home.
When is the time for love to be born?
The inn is full on the planet earth,
And by a comet the sky is torn—
Yet Love still takes the risk of birth.
Will you take the risk that Love takes? The risk to be in right relationship with God, to say “yes” to whatever is asked? To discover at the deepest level that this relationship calls us to know at our core that “it is not about us”—that it is about the promise and gift of God—that our relationship with God is itself a gift—that we are blessed to be visited by God regardless of the nature of God’s request of us. Will you find the time this Christmas to proclaim, “My soul glorifies God and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior”?
O come, Lord Jesus, come…we wait in silence and humility for you to be born in our hearts anew. Amen and amen.
Questions for Sermon Circles:
1. Mary’s life is completely changed in one quick moment. Describe a time in your experience, or in the experience of someone you know, when life’s direction was changed by one event of decision.
2. What was the experience like for Mary—what are some of the words in the passage that help you get an idea of what Mary may have been feeling?
3. At the end of the visit from the angel, what does Mary know about the child she is to bear?
4. Mary and Elizabeth form a small but significant community of women who understand what God is doing. What role does community play in our own understanding of God’s will for us?
5. What does Mary’s song (the last paragraph) tell us about the nature of God?
6. What does Mary’s song tell us about the nature of the Gospel?
7. How do you think you would have responded to the visit from the angel? At 14? At midway through your life? Now?
8. What can we learn about responding to God’s call from the way Mary responded?
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