Isaiah 35:1-10, Luke 1:46-55 “Rejoicing in God our Savior”
Dec. 16, 2007 By Rev. Kathy McDowell
Today is the third Sunday of
Advent, and the candle we have lit on our Advent wreathe is the candle of
joy.
You may have noticed that this
third candle is rose or pink colored.
This tradition for the third
Sunday of Advent dates back to the middle ages,
when a rose colored candle would be lit as a reminder of
joy - a bit of brightness -
during the dark winter season of Advent.
Joy is not necessarily the
same as happiness, as we have already heard in the children’s message.
There are little joys in life
and this time of year we experience many of these.
Like when school finally lets
out for Christmas break. Taking a walk with your child around
the neighborhood to look at lights. Giving a special gift to someone we
love and watching them open it up.
Hearing from friends and
relatives we don’t talk to very often.
But the Joy we are talking
about this third Sunday of Advent,
and the joy our scriptures point to today is a different
kind of joy.
This is a deeper sense of
joy. It includes a sense of peace, and hope.
There is a comfort and
assurance to this joy. It is a joy that
comes from a deep trust that God is with us.
In today’s gospel reading
from Luke, Mary’s joy pours out in what has become known as Mary’s Song,
or the Magnificat, which is
the Latin word from the first word of this text.
“My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my savior,”
Mary sings. And then she goes on to sing about the
saving acts of God.
But what Mary sings about is
surprising. Even
revolutionary.
Mary’s song is a song about
reversals. God reverses the status quo, the expected order of things.
God knocks down the powerful
and the proud, and pulls victims out of despair.
The hungry will be fed and
the rich will go away empty handed.
The Isaiah text celebrates
the same kind of reversals:
The eyes of the blind will be
opened, the ears of the deaf unstopped,
the lame will dance even, and the speechless will sing
for joy.
To understand Mary’s Song we
need to understand more
about what was happening to her. By the time Mary sings her song, she has
just been told by the angel Gabriel that she would conceive and bear a Son, by
the power of the Holy Spirit.
And this son would be no
ordinary child - this child would be the Son of God.
It’s easy to overlook just
how shocking this news must have been to Mary.
When she gets the news from
Gabriel, she is dirt poor, unmarried,
a young teenage girl, and she’s just been told she’s
going to have a baby out of wedlock.
Now even today, such an event
sentences young mothers and their children to poverty. Back in Mary’s time, getting pregnant before
you were married usually sentenced you to stoning.
This should have been bad
news, not good news. Despite any fears
she might have had, still Mary sings.
Mary sings because she recognizes and trusts that God
is with the least likely people in the least likely places. She has seen it in her own life, remembered
it in the history of
and is anticipating it for all time.
Mary’s joy will endure
sorrows. When she and Joseph bring the
baby Jesus to the temple to be presented,
the prophet Simeon tells Mary “ and a sword will pierce
your own soul too. “
(Luke 2:35) The journey ahead
for Mary will not be easy. But Mary
sings for joy because she trusts that through it all God is with her - God with
us is what Emmanuel means.
What does this have to do
with us?
Most of us are not hungry, or
poor, and we’d rather not admit we’re proud or
powerful.
But every one of us has been
- or will be - where
Mary has been. In a situation that seems impossible.
Alone. Afraid. Not knowing what the future holds for us.
Faced with
a serious health issue, a diagnosis of cancer.
Trapped in
a dead-end job. Stuck in a damaging relationship.
Struggling
with a destructive addiction. Sick
with worry
about a son or daughter and the choices he or she is
making.
When we walk into the
unknown, like Mary did,
that’s how we learn that God keeps his promises to be
relentlessly faithful. Even in situations that seem impossible.
That’s who God is. That’s what Emmanuel means.God
with us.
There’s a deep joy that comes
when we trust God even in situations that seem impossible.
We don’t always see outcomes,
but like Mary, we can trust who God is.
Recently I talked with
someone, who on the day we talked,
told me he’d been in recovery for 167 days. He was experiencing the deepest joy, the
greatest peace,
the most hope he had had in 15 years. But what really
struck me about his story
was that he had been trying to get there for 15
years.
This was no overnight
fix. He had prayed - begged God really -
for years for relief.
Now don’t misunderstand me. God didn’t just decide to come and fix
everything one day after 15 years.
No, he had to do a lot of
hard work. But he had hung on to his faith - a thread of faith sometimes -
and trusted that God really could work in situations that
seem impossible.
God doesn’t always work in
the ways we expect. Christ didn’t come
to us as a king or world leader.
And he didn’t die a hero’s
death or even a martyr’s death.
He came as a baby born in a
crude shelter for animals.
He died a criminal, accused
of political troublemaking, and crucified on a cross.
His birth and his death point
to a God who chooses to work in ways that seem impossible.
His birth, life, death and
resurrection reveal a God
who chooses to be Emmanuel - God with us.
Here at this table we
remember Emmanuel - God with us.
Here at this Table we give
thanks for God who
comes to us even in impossible situations.
Here at this table we rejoice
in God our Savior. Here at this table we
take the bread and cup and know that God is with us. All are invited to share
in the joy of this table.