Mary’s Song of Joy
December 17, 2023
Year B; 3rd Advent
Isaiah 61: 1-4, 8-11
Canticle of Mary
John 1: 6-8, 19-28
The Song of Mary Magnificat
Luke 1:46-55
My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior; *
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.
From this day all generations will call me blessed: *
the Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name.
He has mercy on those who fear him *
in every generation.
He has shown the strength of his arm, *
he has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, *
and has lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things, *
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has come to the help of his servant Israel, *
for he has remembered his promise of mercy,
The promise he made to our fathers, *
to Abraham and his children for ever.
Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: *
as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be for ever. Amen.
Homily by Rev. Megan Limburg
Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our
hearts be acceptable in your sight,
O God, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
A friend noted recently that in years past, she got the boxes of decorations down from the attic and did all the decorating in one day. But now, she has to pace herself. The boxes stay down for several days, and the work is done in several shifts.
Well, our boxes have been down for a couple of weeks, and I’m finally getting a little decorating done, though at the pace I’m going, all will look beautiful and Christmas-y by about mid-February.
Though I love the decorations and lights, I find my experience of Christmas has become less holly jolly, and more, well, gently heart-rending.
I know of churches that have services especially for those who are grieving or struggling with the holidays; these services are often called Blue Christmas services, though I liked another name I heard recently from a colleague, Tidings of Comfort services.
But I figured, we all need a bit of comfort in this season, and we all may feel blue at times in December, so why not talk about it on a Sunday?
As I wrote this sermon I took a break periodically to add a few more ornaments to our Christmas tree. And I find this both comforting and heart rending. Some ornaments evoke joyous memories of travels Tim and I have taken, and places that are dear to us. And some were given to us by folks we love so deeply, and see no longer.
When I was at St. Christopher’s, we had a glorious and deeply exhausting service of Lessons and Carols that involved about 80 boys, ages 10-18 years. My fellow chaplains and I had only a few things to do in the service, so our main job was riding herd on the boys in our age groups. When the lights finally went down for the opening of the service we would heave a great sigh of relief, and enter into the joy of the worship. My task in worship was to do the opening prayer that concludes:
Lastly let us remember before God all those who rejoice with us, but upon another shore and in a greater light, that multitude which no man can number, whose hope was in the Word made flesh, and with whom we for evermore are one.
This third Sunday of Advent is often referred to as joy Sunday or Mary Sunday, as we light the joy candle, and our readings include Mary. Today instead of a psalm we heard the Canticle of Mary. After the Angel Gabriel has visited Mary and she has said yes to the invitation to bear the Christ child, Mary goes to see Elizabeth, now six months pregnant, despite her advanced age.
After the two women embrace and greet one another, Mary offers this song of praise and thanks for God’s presence with her. But her song quickly turns from herself, to God’s work for the world that focuses on the poor and lowly and God’s love for them, and the justice he brings for those who are looked down on by the world.
You will also notice that Mary sings these words in the past tense:
“…has scattered the proud, has brought down the powerful, has lifted up the lowly, has filled the hungry…”
Why the past tense? One commentor explains:
“…….(O)ne of the ways the faithful express trust in God is to speak of the future with such confidence that it is described as already here.”
(Preaching Through the Christian Year B; Craddock, Haye, Holladay, and Tucker; page 17)
Oh, that my faith were anywhere near as strong as Mary’s!
In our grief-soaked world, with wars and fighting, betrayals and cruelty, I lose my faith sometimes and wonder, especially in this season, what I can do, and often think there is nothing I can do.
And then I hear Mary, so young, so courageous in her yes to God, doing her piece.
And as we know, her yes will lead her to a complicated, purpose-filled, dangerous, grief-soaked life, bearing the Christ child and watching him die, standing at the foot of his cross.
The commentor goes on to say that without the song, without the joy, our work, our ministry as Christians can falter and fall.
“Without this song of praise, the noblest efforts to effect justice in society become arrogant projects, messianic moves by one group against another, competing for camera time. God’s people parade before they march; for history teaches us without the parade, the march may soon become lockstep, and perhaps even goose step. Who, then, will remain to say, ‘My soul magnifies the Lord’?” (Preaching Through the Christian Year B; page 18)
So, what are we to do? What are you to do? What am I to do?
First, I say again: Oh, that my faith were anywhere near as strong as Mary’s!
But it is not, so I start where I am, with the humble and wandering faith I have and today, I watch Mary.
Knowing she sang and she felt joy, and knowing she worried and was frustrated, and knowing she wept and she grieved, I look for one of her footsteps and place my foot there.
Amen.