December 20, 2020

First Lutheran Church

December 20, 2020

Luke 1:26-38; 46-55

“Mary, Anything but Meek and Mild”

 

This year, on this last Sunday in Advent, the liturgical calendar turns to the incredible Advent story of Mary.   Mary, young and insignificant from lowly Nazareth, is God’s choice to give birth to Christmas. Despite having no credentials, no wealth or power, and no social status status; she is the chosen one.  She is the one who is able to hear the word of God and discern the advent of the kingdom. She boldly and courageously responds in faith, "Let it be to me according to your word."  And just as the prophets promised, she gives birth to the Christ child.  It is - in with and through – Mary, as unlikely as it might seem, that God comes into the world.

 

We don’t really know too much about Mary.  We know that she was young, scholars guess that she was maybe 13-15 years old, and that she was engaged to be married to Joseph.  They were of the lineage of David, connected to the city of Bethlehem, but they lived in the oft maligned and disparaged town of Nazareth.  (In the Gospel of John, Nathaniel will remark upon first hearing of Jesus, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”)  We also know that Mary was a relative of Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist.

 

Tradition tells us that Mary was “meek and mild;” in art and music she is often portrayed as gentle, sweet, and demure, a sensitive princess, someone who quietly and reverently ponders life.  In every picture, statue, or stain-glass window she embodies all these “saintly” qualities.  Yet I can’t help but wonder if “that” was the real Mary?  Once you begin to unpack her story, once you get a sense of what it must have been like for Mary, I can’t help but believe that she was anything but “meek and mild?”  In fact, I suspect she was probably the exact opposite!  Mary must have been incredibly strong, unusually confident, perhaps sassy, even street-wise.  And most likely someone you probably didn’t want to mess with!  Theologian Kathleen Norris exclaims, “Mary is almost always presented as a teenage beauty queen, forever eighteen years old, and perfectly manicured - when in fact she was more likely an olive-skinned, muscular Judean Hill Country woman with calloused hands and feet.”  Mary was anything but meek and mild! 

 

Mary’s Advent Story begins with the incredible news that she is somehow - pregnant!  And that Joseph, her fiancé, is not the father.  This is not a circumstance that any young woman wants to be in, especially 2,000 years ago, when and where, “adultery” was a capital offense.  And all Mary has to defend herself in this situation is an implausible “story” about an angel and a wispy “promise” from God.  She has no tangible proof regarding her condition, no credible witnesses, nothing to be back up her story; and undoubtedly, she must know that nobody is going to believe her.  Yet somehow, she “hears” the angel say, “Do not be afraid,” and from a deep and faithful, strong and confident place, she is able to set fear aside and respond, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”  With great courage Mary opens up herself and boldly steps into the story of God’s advent into the world.  She will endure the perceived shame of her situation, she will remain faithful amidst certain accusations of infidelity, and with nothing but the dream of God’s Kingdom she will hold fast to the promises of Advent.  And let us not forget, Mary will make the journey from the manger - all the way to the cross.  Mary was anything but meek and mild! 

 

And then there’s the song that Mary sings, “The Magnificat,” a powerful song about the coming of God’s kingdom, the coming of peace and justice, and the power of God’s love.  And no matter how much we might want to domesticate this song, no matter how much we might want to make God’s advent into our world - just a spiritual thing with no social political consequences, no matter how uncomfortable we are with her song; it can only be understood as revolutionary!  It is song that calls for the world to be turned upside down!  Mary was anything but meek and mild! 

 

In 1976 a military junta took power in Argentina.  Thousands of men, husbands and sons, who opposed the coup were kidnapped and never seen again.   In non-violent protest, the spouses and mothers of these missing men would gather every day in the Plaza de Mayo to march and to dance with portraits of the missing men- and to sing Mary’s song.  So powerful was their protest, so powerful was their dance and song, that the military generals imposed a “ban” on the words of “The Magnificat.”  They made the words spoken by a young first century peasant woman - illegal!  A military junta, powerful enough to overthrow a nation and cause thousands of dissidents to disappear, was shaken to the core by the Song of Mary – the promise of a compassionate and just God breaking into human history and leveling the playing field for the poor and disenfranchised of the world.  Mary was anything but meek and mild! 

 

Lutheran Theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who would eventually be executed by the Nazis in World War II, also recognized the revolutionary nature of Mary’s song.  In an Advent sermon he wrote, “The song of Mary is the oldest Advent hymn. It is at once the most passionate, the wildest, one might even say the most revolutionary Advent hymn ever sung. This is not the gentle, tender, dreamy Mary whom we sometimes see in paintings.…This song has none of the sweet, nostalgic, or even playful tones of some of our Christmas carols. It is instead a hard, strong, inexorable song about the power of God and the powerlessness of humankind.” 

 

Once again, Mary was anything but meek and mild!  She was indeed, “revolutionary!”  Her strength, confidence, and sure and certain hope in God was sung aloud for all to hear, emancipating all who felt crushed, defeated, and powerless.  Mary was anything but meek and mild! 

 

So where might your Advent story connect or intersect with Mary’s Advent story?  Where do you feel compelled by God to sing out about injustice?  Where do you feel called to align yourself with those who suffer, those who are hungry, those who are marginalized; those who dance when they hear Mary’s song?  Where do you find yourself walking in the shoes of Mary, hoping to lift up the lowly, sharing your gifts, talents, and resources with those in need?  How might your story be a reflection of Mary’s story, calling for and causing a disruption in “the way things are,” “preparing a way” for a kingdom in which all things might become new, - a kingdom of hope, peace, joy, and love?

 

What if we had just a little portion of the faith and courage of Mary?  What might we give birth to if we were able to set aside our fears?  How might God come into the world in, with, and through us, if we could only begin to believe and trust in God’s great dream for the world, the Kingdom of God.

 

Hear this good news, I see Mary’s Advent Story unfolding almost every day here at First Lutheran.  Every time we open our doors to live out our mission statement, “Called to be the Heart of Christ feeding our neighbors with Grace, Mercy, Justice and Love,” the song of Mary is heard, and hearts dance with hope and joy.  The kingdom comes in unexpected and humble ways, and so it is that comes through you and me, and our work together here in this place. 

 

The scriptures tell us that Mary “pondered all these things in her heart,” that she had a dream for the way her life would intersect with the Kingdom of God, that she had a passion that literally wanted to come out and make a difference.  What do you dream about?  In the words of Frederick Buechner, “Where does your deep gladness meet the world’s deep need?”  Where does your joy and passion, your unique gifts and talents, come together in a way that makes a difference in the world around you? 

 

What’s that “something” that you’ve always wanted to do, wanted to try, wanted to give birth to; that one special thing you feel like God is calling you to do?  No matter how old, or how young you are, what is it that you want to do with your one precious life?  God is the one that planted that seed within you, God has nourished that seed in love, and God is the one calling out to you – now is the time!  It’s the season of Advent!  Now is not the time to be “meek and mild” but rather “wild and free!”

 

As this Advent season continues, as we await the coming of Christ at Christmas, let us hear the words spoken by the Angel Gabriel, “Do not be afraid,” and let us remember Mary, anything but “meek and mild,” a woman of great faith and even greater courage.  And in doing so, may we be able to humbly and confidently join in her response, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Amen.

 

 

December 6, 2020

First Lutheran Church

December 6, 2020 + The Second Sunday in Advent

 

Isaiah 9:2 “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness - on them light has shined.”

 

John 1: 6-8 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2He was in the beginning with God. 3All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4in him was life,* and the life was the light of all people. 5The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

 

6 There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. 7He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. 8He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. 9The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

 

“Advent Begins in the Dark”

Pastor Greg Ronning

 

Last Sunday we began the season of Advent by singing, praying, and reflecting upon the “The Great O Antiphons,” - “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.”  In this ancient liturgical prayer, we joined in with “the saints of all times and in all places” expressing the deep human desire for God to break into our world.  Prayers for hope, peace, joy and love.  Prayers for freedom, wisdom, and guidance.  Prayers for new life, new possibilities, and a new day. Prayers for justice. Prayers that God’s kingdom might come, that God’s will might be done, that Christ’s reign might begin, “on earth as it is in heaven.”

 

In the season of Advent, we are called to prepare ourselves for this coming of Christ; we are called to prepare our hearts and our minds in order that we might faithfully embrace the coming of Christ; and we are called to go out and prepare the way of the Lord, to be an active part of the coming of Christ.  In the season of Advent, we are called not only to pray but to put our prayers into action.  “In – with – and through” the liturgical traditions, the appointed biblical texts, the stories, and the practicing of the spiritual disciplines of Advent; we become active participants in the coming of Christ; learning from the past, looking to the future, and becoming fully engaged in the present.

 

So, how do you prepare for the coming of Christ in the season of Advent?  How do you make yourself ready to participate in the coming of Christ in the season of Advent?  What’s your favorite tradition?  What rituals hold significant meaning for you?  What spiritual practices keep you focused on the true meaning of the season?  What makes your heart, your mind, and your soul, - open and ready to play your part in the coming of Christ?

 

My favorite Advent tradition, or spiritual practice, is the lighting of the candles in the Advent Wreath.  That’s always the first image that comes to mind when I think of Advent.  In particular I remember our family tradition growing up.  Mom and Dad would call us to dinner, we’d all take our places seated at the table, a few words would be spoken, and then Mom would turn out the lights.  And in that moment, we would sit in the dark - anxiously waiting.  Mom took her place at the table, and then she would strike a match, and a small spark would create a flame.  And as she lit the first candle, as that candle came to life, the shadows around us pushed back, and everyone’s face would take on that glow that only candlelight can produce. 

 

On the first Sunday in Advent, we lit the candle of hope, and though it was only one candle, hope burned bright in our hearts. The candle revealed the excitement in our eyes, the excitement that was welling up deep within us, as we began to anticipate the coming of Christmas. With each passing week another candle was lit; the candle of peace, the candle of joy, and finally the candle of love.  Each week the flames grew brighter and brighter and brighter.  As I think back, these times were perhaps the holiest times we shared as a family, Advent time, waiting and preparing for the coming of the Christ Child.

 

Light is one of the primary images of Advent, however what I want to share with you today, what I want to unpack with you, what strikes me as perhaps even more significant than the “light,” is that moment just before the first candle is lit, that moment spent in “darkness.”  Because Advent does not really begin with the lighting of the first candle, - Advent begins in the dark.  As the prophet Isaiah noted, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness - on them light has shined.” (Isaiah 9:2)

 

I have come to believe that Advent is just as much a season about darkness as it is about light.  As I mentioned last week, in the season of Advent the darkness actually increases, each winter day becomes shorter and each winter night becomes longer.  As the day of Christmas grows nearer, more candles on our Advent Wreath are lit, however only days before Christmas we must yet endure the longest night of the year.  So it is that Advent is not just about lighting candles in the dark, it is also about living in, and wrestling with, the deepening darkness that surrounds us.  Light is only half of it, the second half of it.  If we want to truly prepare for Christmas, the coming of Christ, we must also be willing to step away from the light and spend some time in the darkness.  We’re really good at lighting candles in hope, but we’re not so good at facing and embracing the darkness of the season. 

 

Advent begins in the dark because that’s where we often find ourselves in this life.  In the darkness - stumbling around; In the darkness - wondering which direction to go; In the darkness - afraid to venture out; In the darkness startled by strange sounds and suspicious whispers; In the darkness - not sure who to trust; In the darkness - confronted by our own broken-ness; In the darkness - longing for light.   This is the human condition, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness - on them light has shined.”

 

As fate would have it, this year I was “blessed” with the opportunity to begin Advent by sitting alone in the dark!  This year Advent officially began six days after my hip replacement surgery.  And one of my recovery struggles has been sleeping at night.  Part of the problem is that I have a really hard time sleeping on my back, and that’s really the only position that was, and still is, available to me after the surgery. Sleeping on my side hurts.  So last Sunday, as the season of Advent began, I spent almost all of that night, lying flat on my back, all alone, and in the dark. (Melissa was in Sacramento helping our daughter move into her new apartment). Thus, I found myself flat on my back, wide awake, all alone, and in the dark. 

 

And as it turns out, at least for me, that was the perfect time, place, and position for me to become obsessed with the meaning of life, - in particular with the meaning of my life.  There’s something about sitting alone in the dark that invites all those existential questions of life, for better or worse, to run wild and free in your head, the perfect opportunity for the Holy Spirit to get your attention.  Wide awake I found myself wrestling with all the big questions in my life.  What is it that I value; what do I want to do with the rest of my life; where do my passions, my ultimate concerns, and my faith intersect - and what does that mean?

 

So it is that in a strange, ironic and powerful way, the darkness that surrounds us, the darkness that we fear and seek to avoid, actually helps prepare us for the coming of Christ!  It has a way of jump starting our holy conversations. Theologian John Navone explains, “Darkness provides us with a therapeutic limit-experience, illuminating the meagerness of human resources for experiencing, understanding, and communicating the divine. … When darkness induces modesty, humility, faith, and trust, it leads to a communion with God …” 

 

In other words, darkness, the experience of darkness, makes things real, (very real.) Revealing our need for God, our need to be able to trust in something more than ourself, our need for a vision to sustain us, our need to live with purpose, our need to love and be loved, our need to be in a relationship with the divine.  Only such darkness, the profound experience of such darkness, makes us aware of our desperate desire and need for God.  This “darkness” sets us on the Advent journey in search of the light, the light that is Christ, the light that is our life and salvation, the light that is Christmas.

 

The only problem is – we’re afraid of the dark.  We’re afraid of the very thing that can save us!  We’re afraid of the dark, both literally and figuratively.  We don’t like being in a physical situation where we literally can’t see what’s going on, where our limited perceptions become distorted, and our imaginations become inspired by our irrational fears.  And we don’t like being “kept in the dark,” the loss of control, the disorientation of uncertainty, not clearly being able to see the answer. 

 

So, we avoid the dark, and when the winter days get shorter, - we just turn on our artificial lights!  And rather than do Advent in the dark, we go straight to Christmas, we step outside in the night only to string up the brightly colored house lights.  And suddenly, Advent becomes more about preparing our house for Christmas, and less about preparing our hearts for Christ.  That’s human nature, by default we tend to avoid darkness.  It’s just too risky.

 

And this year it’s going to be twice as hard.  2020 has been such a long and difficult year – we really want and need to get to Christmas ASAP!  And I get that, so it’s ok to put up your lights and decorations, and dip early into the Christmas spirit.  More than ever, we really do need to experience the joy and love of the Christmas season.  However, we must try to resist the temptation to totally skip over Advent in our quest to have Christmas as soon as possible.  I believe the joy and love of this Christmas will only be made richer and deeper if we can figure out a way to sit in the darkness of Advent first.  And this year may just provide us with this opportunity.

 

One of the things that’s going to be really different this year is our Christmas calendars.  This year, sadly and regrettably, our calendars are not going to be nearly as full as they have been in the past.  Most of our Christmas parties, concerts, luncheons, and other special events are not going to happen this year.  And for many of us, there will not be those hectic holiday travel days.  This year, like it or not, we’re going to have more “free time” on our hands!  So it is I invite you to consider, maybe some of this “free time” can be “time spent” practicing Advent.

 

This past year, the infamous 2020, the year of the COVID 19 Pandemic, has impacted everyone in so many ways, it has touched every part of our lives, from the ordinary moments to the moments that have touched our essential core being. Perhaps it would be wise to take some Advent time, some time alone in the dark, reflecting on the experience, considering how we have been shaped by it all, and praying about what it means going forward?  How have we been changed?  What have we learned about ourselves? In what ways have our values and ultimate concerns been challenged and shaped, re-formed, made new?  How has Christ been present in this pandemic?  How will Christ be present on the other side of this pandemic?  Perhaps we can find the time to sit alone in the dark and ponder these things!

 

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness - on them light has shined.”  We are in the midst of what many people are describing as a “dark winter;” May God grant each of us the faith and courage we need to spend some time in the darkness of Advent; trusting that it is in this darkness that Christ will meet us, trusting that it is in this darkness that Christ will calm our fears and give us peace, trusting that it is in this darkness that Christ will make all things new, trusting that it is in this darkness that the true light of Christ will shine, trusting that it is in this darkness, through this darkness,  that we will be finally led to the joy and love of Christmas.  As we enter into this challenging season let us be reminded, let us be comforted, let us give thanks, that Advent begins in the dark.  Even now Christ is coming, coming into the darkness that surrounds, that darkness that has prepared us, - to be drawn into the light of God.  May God bless our Advent journey.  Amen.