Saugatuck Congregational Church, UCC
©Rev. Alison J. Buttrick Patton
December 20, 2015 – Fourth Sunday of Advent
Scripture: Luke 1:39-56
What did Mary expect, as she approached Elizabeth’s home, as she headed down the path toward the front door of her older cousin’s house, mind still whirling with the details of her encounter with an angel named Gabriel. Did she expect Elizabeth to embrace her and her wild tale, or did she expect – even hope – that the older, wiser Elizabeth would set her straight? Would help her to get her head out of the clouds and her feet back on the ground? Mary had had time to think it over, on her journey across the countryside. Re-examined in the light of day, the whole thing seemed preposterous. That God would ask her to take on such a monumental role… Maybe she had imagined it, after all. Except, of course, there was the physical evidence: the queasiness, and the stirring in her womb, the craving for figs. Surely, Elizabeth would help her to sort it out.
Instead, Elizabeth added miracle to mystery: cried out in wonder before Mary ever got a chance to describe her strange encounter. As Mary approached, she saw that her cousin was herself expecting, just as the angel Gabriel had foretold. “But that’s impossible,” thought Mary. Like a young Alice tumbled down a rabbit hole into Wonderland, Mary found her world turned topsy-turvy – again. “You’re pregnant? But I’m pregnant! But you knew that… How did you know that?” Whatever else Mary had expected, it surely wasn’t this: That her cousin, round with new life, would proclaim a word of blessing on Mary and on the life taking shape within her. That Elizabeth would pay tribute to the child in Mary’s womb, and call him “Lord!”
Surely, that is NOT what Mary expected.
Perhaps not what Elizabeth expected, either. There on the front steps of her home, two miracles collided; two women, impossibly pregnant, two women least regarded, one too old, the other too young to be accorded much voice or value. Mary might have been prized for her potential as a wife and mother, but now that she was pregnant, surely she would be turned out of the house, the engagement canceled. That was to be expected.
But in that moment, two profoundly vulnerable women stood on the threshold – feeling alive and oddly powerful – and confronted the breath-taking wonder of it all. Looked at one another as though looking into a mirror, and recognized the hand of God. Suddenly, their expectations shifted – expanded. If God can do this, than what else can God do? If God would choose old women and maiden girls as holy collaborators, than surely God can turn the whole world right side up – can bring down the mighty and fill the hungry with good things. God has conferred God’s favor where you’d least expect it. What will God do next? Maybe enlist a lowly inn keeper, or a few hapless shepherds? Maybe teach cows and donkeys to low a gentle “Silent Night”; or convince far-flung foreigners to put aside their differences to follow a single star to the inn keeper’s back yard… Anything is possible.
Some have regarded Mary as little more than an instrument in God’s hands, a maiden meek and mild.
But what if God chose Mary, despite all expectations to the contrary, to collaborate with God –not as a pawn but as a partner? What if God saw promise in Mary: enough gumption to withstand the neighborhood gossip; enough heart and wisdom to raise the Christ Child; enough courage to let him go, when the time came. What if God said, “I can get this ball rolling, but I’m going to need you, Mary, and Joseph, too. I need you to raise up this child to love me and my people; let him be steeped in the Torah; let his days be governed by the rhythms of pray and his decisions governed by compassion. Teach him the inherent worth of every child of God.”
Once he began his ministry, Jesus routinely overturned expectations: he invited the local tax collector to supper (a man generally despised); he broke Sabbath law by harvesting food and healing sick folks when he should have been at the temple; he rode on a donkey instead of a war horse; he hung out with women and engaged them in earnest theological discussion, as equals. Where do you think he got that? That disregard for status? Who taught him to expect that God is present in and with all people – not just in the privileged and the powerful?
That would be his mother: Mary.
This is Mary’s gift, the gift she received from the angel Gabriel: the capacity to expand expectations, to trust that God will achieve marvelous things. It’s a gift she passed along to her son. He, in turn, offered it to us.
So tell me, what – or whom – are we expecting, this Christmas? Do we expect angels – those terrifying angels, the ones that invariably come bearing news that may send us careening down a rabbit hole? Or do we expect that Christmas will come and go, like it does every year… Do we expect the usual dose of good cheer or disappointment… or are we expecting God in the flesh?
If we did, how would that change the way we move through the world? Maybe it would help us to navigate our most difficult relationships, if we truly believed that God will show up and do something unexpected, open up conversations that have grown stale, or allow a little grace to enter in. Maybe expecting God would give us the courage to speak up, or step out, or act with greater compassion.
Of course, how we respond to God’s coming might depend on what we hear in Mary’s song – whether we see ourselves as the ones who will be lifted up or the ones who will be brought low. Whether we expect to be fed or sent away hungry. And whether this is good news or bad… But here, too, our expectations could just be turned on their head. What if it’s ALL good news? The building up and the bringing down? The feeding and the turning away empty? Is it possible that being left empty could be a gift? Is it possible that we need that kind of upheaval in our lives, sometimes? When our heads are full of pride and our stomachs full of food; when we spend all our time with the people we already know and trust – well, then, might we miss the chance to mix with shepherds or meet wise young women?
Put another way: Is it possible that God wants to make space in our lives, so that we can birth something new? Like Mary, like Elizabeth, could we be expecting God?
The poet Jan Richardson writes,
“Not to one
But to many you have called:
Come on the dancing wind
Come from the deepest forest
Come from the distant lands
Come from the edge of darkness
Come from the depth of fear
And become the bearer of God…”[1]
Standing on the threshold, two miracles collided; Mary and Elizabeth regarded one another, pregnant with impossible possibility, and saw the hand of God. What about you? Might you also be pregnant with holy possibility this season? Called to be a bearer of God?
What might God see in you that She needs to help turn the world right side up? Enough gumption to buck social expectations and ignore gossip? Enough heart and wisdom to raise children who love God and God’s people? Enough nerve to speak up when someone – or a whole group of someones – is being abused? Enough imagination to allow space for mystery and miracles? Enough faith to trust in God who trusted in Mary? What if God is saying, right now, “I can get this ball rolling, but I’m going to need you…”
This I believe: We are all bearers of God, through whom God can work miracles. I also believe this: As we expect God, God also expects us: is waiting for us, like that Inn Keeper, with door swung wide; ready to welcome us as holy collaborators. God needs people with the audacity to sing songs of hope and promise, to sing about expectations expanded, and lives transformed. God has something in mind for you this season, for us. Emmanuel is about to be born into this world. That can only mean one thing: that we are expecting…
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Scripture
Luke 1:39-56 – New Revised Standard Translation
39 In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, 40 where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. 41 When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit 42 and exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. 43 And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? 44 For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. 45 And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.”
46 And Mary said,
“My soul magnifies the Lord,
47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48 for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
49 for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
50 His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
51 He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
52 He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
53 he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
54 He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
55 according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”
56 And Mary remained with her about three months and then returned to her home.
[1] Night Visions, by Jan Richardson.