Sermon for Advent IV: The Blessings and Challenges of God’s Call

     This Gospel account of Mary’s Visitation to her cousin Elisabeth has to be

on my Top Ten List of favorite stories in sacred scripture. Anyone who has had a

best friend, or a “BFF” as my high school students say, has an idea of how the two

women felt when they met on this occasion. My best friend’s name is Libby, and I

met her when I was a junior in college. We became roommates my senior year, and

have never lost touch with each other since that time over thirty years ago. I was

the Eucharistic Minister at her wedding; she was my matron of honor.  Libby is

godmother to my two children; I was present when her mom was dying at Mary

Black Hospital in Spartanburg. Today, we have each other on the “short chain” of

text messaging because the one place we are very different is that she does not use

technology. When I get to visit Libby in Tennessee, I understand how wonderful it

must have been for Mary to lay eyes on Elisabeth, a cousin as well as a kindred

spirit. Of all people, Elisabeth would sympathize with what was happening to

Mary.  Elisabeth understood this business of being called by God—both the

blessings and the challenges that come with God’s call. Being understood by

someone else is an immeasurable blessing.

     In addition to the deep understanding that Elisabeth and Mary share with

each other and the pregnancies for which they are known, Mary and Elisabeth are

women of promise. Each woman carries a special child, and those children are part

of the promise of God to God’s people. In the Old Testament reading, we heard,

“And they shall live secure, for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth.”

Mary made room for the child, Jesus, who would become the Christ and Elisabeth

welcomed his cousin John, the prophet who announced Messiah’s coming.

     In first century Palestine, life could be a challenge for anyone especially

those who were not Roman citizens. In Palestine, there was an atmosphere of

mistrust toward the occupying army, and these soldiers, governors, and tax

collectors were literally hated by the local residents. Only those in the upper class

of society could own land or hold political office. Everyone else worked for the

wealthy landowners causing most people to live at a subsistence level, constantly

in danger of hunger. Many of these workers did not have steady work, but hired

themselves out for a daily wage.

     In Luke’s story, Mary and Elizabeth are heroines because of their faith and

humility and their willingness to do their part to usher in God’s kingdom. Since

women were very restricted in what they could do, it is especially important to note

how seriously these women take their roles in the prophetic work they have been

asked to undertake. When Mary enters Elisabeth’s house, Elisabeth says (1:43),

"And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord would come to me?" At

that point, the baby in Elisabeth’s womb gives his mother a good stiff kick! This

experience of the baby leaping in Elisabeth’s womb is a visceral reminder that God

is present in each of us and through the Holy Spirit connects us to both God and

our human community.

     Recently I discovered the teacher, author, and speaker Brenè Brown,  who has spent the past

thirteen years studying vulnerability, courage, worthiness, and shame. In The Gifts of

Imperfection her comments about courage sum up the relationship that Mary and

Elisabeth had with each other. She says, “Practice courage and reach out! We have

to own our story and share it with someone who has earned the right to hear it,

someone that we can count on to respond with compassion. We need courage,

compassion, and connection—right now! Mary and Elisabeth model those three

“C’s” for us in the story of The Visitation.

      Perhaps you’ve had that experience of your own child kicking you, or

you’ve had a family member or friend take your hand and place it on her abdomen

when the baby is kicking. Elisabeth says, “As soon as I heard the sound of your

greeting the child in my womb leaped for joy.” Already there is recognition of the

divine nature of Mary’s child and of the mission that will take Jesus from a lowly

birth to a humiliating death.  And Mary says (1:48): "The Lord has regarded the

low estate of his handmaiden." Both women—even though selected for a history

changing purpose—acknowledge their lowly estate before Almighty God.

     What follows this brief story of Mary’s visitation to Elisabeth is Mary’s

Song or The Magnificat. It begins with

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, and my

Spirit rejoices in God my Savior for he has looked with

favor on the lowliness of his servant.”

     In this short poem that praises God for the work he is doing through Mary,

we hear about the hungry, the poor, the class system, the treatment of women,

institutional religion, culture and local and world politics. But remember, God is

about to turn the world of First Century Palestine upside down. Elisabeth’s son,

John, is coming to prepare the way by calling people to repentance, and Mary’s

son, Jesus, is coming to spread the message of God’s love.

     Mary’s song of praise talks about a people who have feared God “from one

generation to another” and the God who has done amazing acts for his people. God

is strong and rejects the proud thoughts of those who would rely only on their own

strength. God is the ruler of all and has brought down the powerful from their

thrones. He has lifted up the lowly. God is on the side of the powerless.

     Here, I am reminded of stories of the Old Testament figure Joseph who was

sold into slavery only to be in Egypt at a time when his family so desperately

needed him to help them survive. When famine drove the sons of Jacob (Israel) to

seek food in Egypt, it was their brother Joseph who made sure they received

enough food for their family. God used Joseph to help his family, and eventually to

restore them to one another. God helps the lowly and the poor, and God provides

food for the hungry. Most of all, though, God is merciful.

     What strikes me as so important about Mary’s story and her song of praise is

that the Good News is for everybody who is on the underside; for everybody who

is on the outside; for everybody who is lost and feels unworthy. This news is

revolutionary news! And the basis of this revolution is love.

     Today, we are called to take that good news to everyone: to the

downtrodden, to the unemployed and the poor, to those working for less than an

appropriate wage, and to those who face the raw, dark moments of life. We are

called to practice compassion—the kind of compassion that Mary and Elisabeth

had for each other. Mary was blessed because she allowed grace and mercy to flow

around and through her, and we must be open to the same Godly grace and mercy

that heals us and sends us forth with our wounds bound up in order for us to share

the Good News with those who “wait in darkness.” My point is, and here I return

to the Collect of the Day, is that God is with us every day, and that we are God’s

home here in this world. The Collect says Purify our conscience, Almighty God, by

your daily visitation that your Son Jesus Christ, at his coming, may find in us a

mansion prepared for himself. God’s Spirit resides within to empower us to do the

work of spreading the Good News because we surely cannot do this work in our

own strength or on our own merits.

     In just a few days, we will celebrate the birth of the baby that Mary carried

in her womb, and that John the Baptist recognized while he was still in his own

mother’s womb. I encourage you to take time to quietly reflect on the events that

unfold this week, and as you ponder the upcoming holy days, ask yourself, “How

long has it been since you felt the babe leap for joy.”