To listen to this sermon, click here.
New Testament Lesson—Luke 1: 39-55
The Harvard preacher Peter Gomes once said that a lot Protestants have trouble with Mary because they think she’s Catholic. He tells a story about a dean at a Protestant Cathedral who gives Mary very little of his time, and so when he eventually goes to heaven, Jesus greets him saying, “Ah, Mr. Dean, welcome to heaven; I know you have met my Father, but I don’t believe you know my Mother.” Well, this Sunday I thought we Protestants should try to get to know Jesus’ mother, especially in relation to Jesus’ birth, so this morning I have for you Three Reasons to Have a Mary Christmas!
The first reason is that Mary knows the importance of family. Of course, for some of us, it is not always one’s biological family that plays a vital role, but our non-biological family of choice. In the case of Mary, however, it was her biological family. During Mary’s pregnancy, she went and spent three months with her relative Elizabeth who also happened to be pregnant. I am not an anthropological genius, but have any of you ever observed that there often seems to be an up tick in sisterhood bonding when women are pregnant? I will continue to keep an eye open for pregnant women bonding, but I think that might be the case.
What’s interesting with the story told in the gospel of Luke is that Mary is portrayed as being rather confused and overwhelmed with this whole thing about being a virgin and being pregnant with the Son of God. So what is the very first thing she does? She goes to be with another woman who is pregnant and not only that but who has a rather miraculous pregnancy at an old age. In essence, Mary seeks out a family member who on a certain level is a kindred spirit. In my own house, I don’t know how many times we got on the phone with my sister Sonja who became pregnant four months before Eunita. “Hey, Sonja, did this ever happen to you? How do you deal with this? Do we need to call the doctor?” We would have been a nervous wreck without my sister.
In the case of the confused and overwhelmed Mary, Elizabeth did about the best thing one could do: she reframed the situation. For all we know, Mary was coming to her afraid of what Elizabeth might think of this out of wedlock pregnancy. She might have been taking a risk to go to her, but Elizabeth affirms and celebrates her pregnancy at first sight. With a loud cry, she exclaims how blessed Mary is. She lets her know that her pregnancy is so exciting that her own baby jumped for joy. With this reframing of her situation, it is easy to imagine Mary suddenly having this great weight lifted from her shoulders as her perspective begins to shift.
I find that Christmas is often a time when family members can help us reframe whatever we might be going through in life. I can’t tell you how many times I came home from college all stressed out for lots of different reasons like unrequited love…and… well, unrequited love. Fortunately, I had family members who helped me to enjoy life again and who helped me to realize there was more to my existence than unrequited love. I can tell you I wasn’t the only one who was relieved when I finally met Eunita. I was a romantic basket case, but that’s a story for another Sunday. The point here is that family at its best can help us go from being stressed to feeling blessed. Mary teaches us that.
Another reason to have a Mary Christmas is that Mary sings us into Christmas. One of the traditional ideas about Mary’s long declaration in today’s scripture is that it was a song, but it wasn’t just any song, it was a song about God being on the side of the oppressed. For this reason, I’ve come to believe that if Mary were alive today in the United States she would be a feminist punk rocker. I am going to google that and see if I can claim it as an original idea. I got the idea this past week when I was reading an essay that was actually written by a feminist punk rocker named Kathleen Hanna. What was interesting about the essay is that Hanna had become somewhat famous as a member of a band called Bikini Kill. She used her music to address the oppression of women and to help empower women, but eventually she got tired and burnt out with the hardships and stresses of her activist musical life, so she quit her group. She moved to Durham, North Carolina where she did a lot of soul searching, and what pulled her out of her funk was reading books on the history of women struggling for justice. She began to put her problems into a historical perspective, and she began to see that she was part of a tradition much bigger than her. She gained from the strength and wisdom of the women who had gone before her, so that she was more equipped and emboldened for life. As she puts it, she went from being “less like the crotchety, depressed chain-smoker” she “had started to become” to being “more like the skilled basketball-playing ballerina” that she is.
Mary’s song reflects a rejuvenating and bolstering historical perspective as well. What’s interesting is that right after Elizabeth tells her she is blessed she starts singing about all the ways God has blessed oppressed people throughout history. She realizes she is part of a tradition bigger than her. She sings about how from generation to generation God has shown strength of arm and has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. God has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly. God has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. I think Mary was definitely a feminist punk rocker. Maybe this might give the choir some ideas about their Christmas program for next year.
Incidentally, some of the best lyrics for recent Christmas songs I think come from feminist singers. Annie Lennox has a Christmas song called “Universal Child” that has lyrics I found especially meaningful after the recent shooting in Connecticut. She sings:
I’m gonna help you to find a way to keep you safe from harm.
We’re gonna build a special place, a shelter from the storm.
I can feel you, you’re ev’rywhere, shining like the sun.
I wish to God that kids like you could be like ev’ryone.
And I wish to God that kids like you could be like ev’ryone.
Mary and Annie Lennox make me think all of us could use some feminists to sing us into the true spirit of Christmas.
A third reason to have a Mary Christmas was best expressed to me in the writings of an Episcopalian priest in Washington, D.C. named John Beddingfield. Beddingfield recalls how a few years back he was given a nightlight of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Not something I would probably think to give someone, but it spurred Beddingfield to reflect upon the different attitudes people have toward Mary. The nightlight is small and gives off a blue color, so Beddingfield reflects on how Mary’s light today has in some ways been diminished. She has been “turned into the stuff of folk-magic and kitsch.” He notes that “her image appears on toast and on roadside underpasses just as surely as it appears at the holy sites of Lourdes and Medjugorje.” Yet, Beddingfield also finds there is much to appreciate about what the nightlight has come to symbolize for him. He talks of how the light represents her steady, reliable presence and “her willingness to be a soft light showing the way.”
When Mary lights our way to Jesus, she points us to the major themes of his life. He was a Savior for a people who knew hard times. He was the hope for the hopeless. He was more than a nightlight. He was the bright light that shined like a star in the night sky. As we head toward Christmas, Mary guides us on our way. She encourages us to draw close to our families, so that we might be embraced and lifted up by their love. She also sings to us. She gives us more than a catchy tune. She gives us lyrics with meaning. Lyrics that remind us of what the coming of Jesus is all about.
We have lots of reasons to be attracted to the light of Mary this Christmas season. In my own house, we have a nightlight. It isn’t Mary, but it does seem to have a special power, especially over Danalyn. When she wakes up in the morning, the first thing she often wants to do is run to the nightlight. As quickly as her wobbly and bobbly legs will take her, she heads straight toward it with an outstretched arm. Overcome with excitement, she looks transfixed by its magical glow. You would think she had never seen this light before. And I think to myself that is exactly how I want to approach this Christmas. It’s not just another Christmas. It’s a Christmas filled with a light that never fails to excite and energize my spirit. It’s a Christmas that makes me want to run toward it with an outstretched arm seeking its magical glow. Amen.