Mary's Song - Jubilee Collective

Luke 1:26-38 

The Birth of Jesus Foretold

26 In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, 27 to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. 28 And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” 29 But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. 30 The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. 31 And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. 32 He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. 33 He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” 34 Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” 35 The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. 36 And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. 37 For nothing will be impossible with God.” 38 Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.

___________________________

This sermon was originally preached for a certain context and for a certain people, but we believe that God transcends time and space, so I hope that this sermon might speak to you here in this place as well. You can read the sermon below, or you can watch & listen to the sermon at this link. 

Let us pray. God, who was formed in the womb of a woman, give us the strength and audacity to repeat Mary’s song as a warning to the oppressive powers and as a reminder to ourselves what your presence among us truly means. Amen.

To put it plainly, the Church has a terrible history of not listening to the stories of women. From the very beginning of God’s people recording history, women’s stories have been truncated, left out, amended, and altogether ignored. This is especially true when the woman might put those who would call themselves God’s people in an unfavorable light. After all, it was the men who told and retold the stories, it was the men who began writing them down, and the men who read them aloud to groups of… other men. It is no wonder that the voices of women have been lost and purposely left out of most our religious history.

Especially the voices of young, unmarried women. Especially, especially the voices of young, unmarried, pregnant women. 

That’s what makes this Sunday’s story such an incredible one to me. It is an absolute wonder that we even know this part of the story of the incarnation. It is an absolute wonder that Mary’s story was even recorded in the first place and that we are able to hear it and tell it again every year at this time. 

Mary wouldn’t have recorded this story herself, and Mary seems to be alone when this episode with the angel happens… so how could this story be around today? When I tell you it is a miracle, I mean it. I have been part of the Church long enough to know that even when a woman holds certain types of power and privilege, she is still less likely to be believed than a man. Pick up any #MeToo or #ChurchToo books or blog posts and we will learn that this silencing has been happening for centuries and continues today. Even the most convincing and evidence-based stories are often dismissed or covered up if they might harm the powerful, most especially the powerful men. 

But… that doesn’t seem to happen here. Mary has this wild story of an angel visiting her and announcing the coming of a new king and presumably she tells others— her mother and father, perhaps? Her betrothed, Joseph? 

God is doing something new and interesting even at the first inklings of the incarnation. Despite the patriarchal world in which she was entrenched, in the very first flutter of becoming human, God gives Mary a voice. A voice that is heard. And believed. At least by enough folks to make it into Luke’s gospel account. 

This young woman, who comes from a no-where place like Nazareth, who is unmarried and now pregnant— this is on whom God places the hinge of all creation, to carry God’s very flesh and blood into the world. 

And we believe her. It is one of the core tenets of Jesus’ revelation— that Mary was a virgin and visited by an angel and became pregnant with our God. We believe this story that no one else witnessed, that she then goes and tells Elizabeth, her cousin. But then again, it doesn’t add up that the church would believe the testimony of this young unmarried pregnant woman about her own purity, when we know the Church today is so quick to place shame and guilt on the backs of the young pregnant women today. 

What changed? I don’t think we have to look far. I think Mary’s compliance changed. In the beginning of this story, we hear what sounds like a gentle, quiet, acquiescing Mary, who complies with the desires of the creator. An obedient woman, a good woman. But only ten verses later, Mary sounds less like an obedient girl and more like a revolutionary mother. Her famous song, sung in the presence of her aunt Elizabeth, calls down the powers that have pretended to align themselves with God for centuries. Suddenly this God-bearer, a woman, has found her voice and proclaims the greatness of God and the weakness of man. 

This Mary, who would likely go home to her family and friends and be shamed for being a pregnant, unmarried young woman, put those very same people to shame in her song. She proclaims the turning of the world from those who have long been in power, to the weakest, the hungriest, those that the empire have used, trodden, and forgotten. People who look like her. I don’t think the Magnificat is was sung in longing comforting lullaby voice or even to a jolly tune. It sounds much more to me like the beginning of a battle cry, a tune that would help steel herself up for the coming abuse from those around her. It is a warning, more than a hope. A promise, more than an anticipation. She is proclaiming what she knows to be true about herself and about the God who she carries within her very body. 

And as the empire has continued to lure the Church into compliance, wrapping its tendrils of white supremacy and power around this gospel, it is no wonder that the Church would shut its ears to Mary’s song. Because we know that Mary’s song is not just a threat to them— the folks in DC or the lobbyists or the Jeff Bezos of the world— but Mary’s song is a threat to the very institution of the Church under which we worship. It is a threat to whatever power and privilege we have been able to grasp through the years. And we don’t want to listen. 

So it really is no wonder that the church has some issues with listening to young women. When the song of this young woman is a threat to its cohabitation with the empire and the powers of this world. When we read it again, we can see the shift so naturally— from a compliant little girl to the truth-telling young mother of God. In God’s presence, in the knowing that comes from being intimately connected with God, she has a message for the most powerful and we don’t want to hear it. 

But we must. We must listen to the stories of young women, especially to the stories of young women who the church would say are defiled and impure, shameful or unworthy. We are called to hear the stories of the people who the Church would cast out and put aside. Because they are God-bearers. And they are the ones who have shown us, do show us, and will show us, with no embellishments, what the Kingdom of God is like. 

From the Magnificat to the resurrection, we have done a good job of not believing the women closest to our God, the women who showed up and worked hardest, the women who will continue to do the back-breaking work of labor and deliverance. Why? Because it’s easier that way. It’s easier to deny the truth that these women profess, instead of coming face to face with the reality that Jesus’ birth, life, death, and resurrection actually means something for us, right now today. It is easier to view Christmas as a neatly wrapped manger scene than the beginning of a revolution. But in the coming weeks, when we hear the story of a newborn king coming into this world in the most unexpected ways, I hope that we will remember that this is only the beginning of what God has in store for us, this is only the first fruits of the wild party that God will set before us in the coming of the Kingdom. For now, we wait and listen for the invitation, because it will come from the voices of the young women.