Trinity Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

Sermons 

are often quite unsure what we should do with Mary.

We are mostly uncomfortable with

a lot of the tradition that has grown up around her

in our sister church, the Roman Catholic tradition.

It seems weird to us that anyone would pray to Mary …

light candles to her … have statues of her in church,

or pictures of her in your home.

The official doctrine that Mary was a "perpetual virgin,"

that is, that she and Joseph never consummated their marriage,

even after Jesus arrived,

seems to us not only odd but even abnormal, and certainly unnecessary.

Feminists have noted, rightly,

that she is an all-too-rare biblical portrait

of a woman who has her wits about her,

and makes good choices,

and follows the will of God on her own,

not just because of whose wife or daughter she is.

But she’s still a puzzlement.

And that’s not even taking into account

the whole mind-warping story of a virgin

becoming pregnant somehow by God’s power,

and giving birth to God in a human baby.

Would any of us have been brave enough

to have said yes to such a thing?

Or if we were in the place of Joseph,

to have agreed to go along with it?

We cannot simply write them off by saying, oh,

these were uneducated peasant types,

and it was more than two thousand years ago,

what did they know of science and biology and such matters?

They knew perfectly well where babies came from;

Mary knew that she hadn’t yet done any such thing,

or she wouldn’t have asked the angel "How can this be?"

Joseph knew very well that they hadn’t yet done any such thing,

or he wouldn’t have figured that someone else had,

and so determined to let Mary out of their commitment.

They weren’t ignorant.

Rather, they were open to God’s leading,

and courageous enough to say yes to God’s plan,

even knowing that it would upset their own plans completely.

They were wise enough to know that whatever God said,

no matter how impossible-sounding,

was nevertheless more true that what their own reason could tell them.

And this is where, perhaps,

we can begin to try to intersect our own story with Mary’s.

When Mary goes to visit Elizabeth,

who is herself somewhat unexpectedly pregnant,

what does Elizabeth say to her?

Among other things,

"Blessed is she who believed

that there would be a fulfillment

of what was spoken to her by the Lord."

In other words,

You are blessed, Mary, because you heard God speak,

and you chose to believe that God’s words were true.

You believed that what God said would happen,

would really happen.

You have to contrast, this, remember,

with how Zechariah, Elizabeth’s husband,

reacted when Gabriel came to talk to him, back in chapter 1.

Remember?

Gabriel shows up when Zechariah is doing his annual priestly duty in the temple,

and says, Hi Zechariah,

God is about to answer your prayer.

Even though Elizabeth has been barren up until now,

and you are both old, kind of like Abraham and Sarah,

she is going to have a baby,

who is going to do some pretty amazing things,

and by the way, you’re supposed to name him John.

Zechariah replies, "How will I know that this is so?"

Which isn’t really all that different from Mary’s asking,

"How can this be, since I have no husband?"

but his tone of voice must have been different or something,

because Gabriel doesn’t take too kindly to being questioned.

In consequence, Zechariah loses his ability to speak

until after John has been born,

and Zechariah won’t let them name John after him,

but writes down on a tablet, "His name is John."

Then, suddenly, he is able to speak again,

after nine months or so of silence.

So … not only is Mary blessed for believing what God told her would come to pass …

but also, apparently, woe to those who disbelieve what God tells them!

But, back to what it is

that we may have in common with Mary.

Regardless of whether we can wrap our minds around

the notion of a virgin birth, or not …

what I suspect we can agree on

is that Mary’s faith and obedience are worthy of imitation.

Whether it actually happened exactly that way or not,

is less important than the hearing, and believing, and response.

God spoke to Mary.

Mary heard it, chose to accept it even though it seemed ludicrous,

and adapted her life to respond to God’s activity.

And when Mary speaks in response to Elizabeth,

we begin to see where it is that we are asked

to believe some pretty impossible things,

and to act as if they are true.

I didn’t read you those words this morning,

but you sang them a few minutes ago:

The mighty are cast down,

And lowly ones are raised;

He fills the hungry with good things,

And sends the rich away.

In Luke’s text, Mary actually makes it even more forceful.

Her verbs are not in the present tense,

as if to say that God is in the process of doing these things …

Mary speaks in the present perfect tense;

that is to say, God has done these things already.

God has put down the powerful from their thrones.

God has lifted up the lowly, filled the hungry, sent the rich away empty.

Oh really?

And just where, Mary, do we see that?

Where did you see it in your own world?

Oh … wait …

blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment

of what was spoken to her by the Lord.

Blessed is Mary, who not only believes

this wild story about becoming pregnant by the Holy Spirit,

but who also believes the even wilder story

that God is at work among us right here and right now,

putting down what is powerful,

lifting up what has been put down,

exalting the valleys,

and making low the mountain and hills.

Did she see it? No.

Do we see it? No.

Does that mean it isn’t true? …

No.

So … If we believe that there will be a fulfillment

of what has been spoken to us by the Lord …

how do we live as blessed people?

Christmas isn’t so much about believing impossible things …

whether it’s about a big guy in a red suit

fitting himself down the chimney

and making his way all around in the world in just one night …

or whether it’s about a pregnant, unwed teenager

and a miraculous birth and a star in the sky.

Christmas is about God coming into our midst –

with Mary as the instrument for that, to be sure –

God coming into our midst to make the impossible happen.

The decision that is before us –

always, but especially at this time of year –

is whether we’re going to join forces with God,

or go about with business as usual.

If, in fact, God has put down the mighty and exalted the lowly,

are we doing the same thing?

If God has fed the hungry and sent the rich away,

is that our plan of action as well?

In a certain sense, those of us in the middle

are in the hardest place when it comes to whether we’re going to believe all this.

We aren’t the rich, at least not in our society.

We aren’t the ones being threatened with overthrow and hunger.

Nor are we the poor.

We’re not the ones to whom promises are being made …

at least, not directly.

If we believe, those of us in the muddled middle,

how will we act on it?

How will those who observe us,

whether they are high or lowly or somewhere else,

know what we believe, and why we choose to believe it?

Well, let me give you some "for instances"

that might get your creative juices going.

Most of the examples that come to my mind

have to do with lifting up the lowly,

I guess, because I don’t know enough rich or powerful people

to take part in pulling them down.

Although it might be fun,

but that’s all the more reason for me to leave that to God,

and not derive some warped pleasure from it.

Lifting up the lowly …

Did you read in yesterday’s paper

about the Dallas man who, every year,

pays for Christmas night and a banquet in a wonderful hotel

for 100 homeless people …

and this year, he’s upped that to 200, on faith?

For me, the most touching part of that story was

how they had trouble getting some of the men to come downstairs to the banquet,

because they were so thrilled about having a room with a TV,

and being able to watch the Cowboys play,

that they didn’t want to leave it?

Something so simple for us, that we take so for granted …

that was an incredible lift for those whom we think of as "lowly."

If you haven’t yet made it to the downtown library

to see the Stewpot’s homeless art exhibit,

it’s worth the trip.

It’s open through December 31,

just take the elevator up to the 4^th floor and take a left.

Certainly not everyone has artistic ability –

and some of the work there is much more professional than others –

but what a marvelous way of lifting the lowly ...

giving them a chance to exhibit their talents,

and even earn income from them.

You will be amazed, and humbled, by what you see.

How do you lift the lowly?

Perhaps by bringing a "gift for the Christ Child" next week …

something out of your closet

that a homeless person could wear for a job interview?

something from your kitchen

that could help an abused woman

to set up housekeeping on her own, in a new and safe space?

something from your living room,

that might furnish an apartment for a formerly homeless youth?

Perhaps you will lift the lowly by giving a gift to Presbyterian Housing Program

so that people who are poor

can have a safe, warm, decent place to live.

Perhaps you will lift the lowly

by spending part of Christmas with a friend

who lost their spouse this past year.

Perhaps you will literally feed the hungry,

by helping serve Christmas dinner at the Salvation Army,

or by taking a couple of bags of food 

to Oak Cliff Churches for Emergency Aid.

In God’s divine scheme,

these are the people who are already exalted, blessed, filled.

Can we believe that,

in spite of what our eyes tell us?

Can we live as people who are willing to be brave enough

to throw in our lot with God’s plan,

rather than with the proud and the rich whom we secretly envy?

More than anything else,

do we want to hear Elizabeth’s words, echoed by Mary:

"Blessed are you who believe that there will be

a fulfillment of what was spoken to you by the Lord." …?

May it be so,

at Christmas and always.

Amen.

© 2006 Julie Adkins (e-mail: DrJAdkins@trinitypresdallas.org)