Mary treasured all these things, and pondered them in her heart.

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1 CHRISTMAS EVE 2016 PONDER AND PUSH Mary treasured all these things, and pondered them in her heart. I like that. I like the word PONDER. Are you a ponderer? I'm guessing you are. Ponderers are people who among other things choose, out of all the ways you might spend a night like this, choose to submerge in a mystery: they offer themselves to the story, the candlelight and the music; to the faces they know will be here, to the smell of candle wax and wet boots and the smiles of people they've never met. Ponderers do this even if they don't exactly know what to make of it if any of it fits with who they are right now. Kind of a crazy thing to do, if you think about it rationally. But ponderers have a taste for the slightly off; a capacity for wonder, and a lot of questions. Sometimes they sit quietly with those questions, holding them gently womb-like, until something is born. Sometimes they shout those questions to what seems a cold and empty sky, and sometimes they live those questions; live compassionate and brave lives in spite of...or because of them. I think you're a ponderer. Ponder this. It's Luke who likes that word. Mary, he says more than once, ponders what is happening. To me this is an invitation leaping off the page just as sure as the baby leapt in Elizabeth's womb. An invitation for us to do the same. To think. To wrestle, and wonder and chew on things...like Mary, not to passively just accept, that's not the Mary we see here, Christmas cards, old Sunday school lessons and bad preaching notwithstanding. No. This Mary wonders, considers, and then she chooses. And invites us to do the same. To ponder. What is this story? What is happening here? What does it mean? How does it touch you? How will it form your mind and heart? Some old church father I can't remember who, said that Scripture is the wine cellar of the Holy Spirit. Ponder that! This story is...earth shaking and habit forming and life giving and...just plain holy. Maybe, one day in a galaxy far, far away, someone will be searching the skies for meaning and for life. And maybe they will be able to see light from here. And maybe

2 those lights will be the ancient lights only reaching that galaxy now...from this very moment in the Bible. Ponder that. And maybe, they'll see lights and they'll think at first they are seeing stars but in fact they will be the campfires of the shepherds, and the faint light from the stable, and from the manger within, and a young girl's eyes. Wouldn't that be something? And maybe they'd see her, this young ponderer, and she's lying on her back in the open field, resting on the way to Bethlehem, and she has her hands on her bulging belly and her swollen ankles resting on her pack...and maybe she's taking a moment, because she's 14 and pregnant and scared and she wants her mom. But then she gets to looking at the night sky, and wondering...what's out there? What's happening to her? To what has she given her passionate assent? Did she feel...accompanied? In her pondering, in her fear? Did she know she was not alone? Mary pondered. AND Mary pushed, Because sometimes pondering just isn't enough Her world was hard. It was politically brutal. She lived in a country occupied by an oppressor; a brutal regime. The Roman government was bad enough, but the puppet king Herod he was volatile and paranoid, cruel. And not exactly brimming over with IQ points. This is the man who had his own sons murdered so they would not usurp his throne. Brian is going to sing Home By Another Way later in the service listen to what it says about the man. A king who would slaughter innocents will not cut a deal for you. He really really wants those presents, and he'll comb your camel's fir, 'til his boys announce they've found trace amounts of frankincense gold and myrrh... (James Taylor is a genius) Mary's world was harsh. Politically volatile and violent. Religiously, it was increasingly arthritic. The religious law would have stoned her to death. Her world was harsh in every way. Neither Mt nor Lk keeps this from us. This story is not for the faint of heart. She is in an untenable position. Her pondering must have been much like our own. She must have seen the pain, the injustice, the suffering of so many...and she must have asked. Why. Why? Warsan Shire wrote a poem...perhaps you know it....later that night I held an atlas in my lap Ran my fingers across the whole world. And whispered...where does it hurt? It answered - everywhere, Everywhere. Everywhere

3 When it's like that, and God bless us, maybe it's always been like that? When it's like that, you ponder. And then? You push. You could ponder yourself into paralysis Or a cheap and easy throwing up of your hands in resignation Or - it's too complicated, you say. As one Christian ethicist says: The appeal to complexity is the last resort of the moral coward. You COULD do any or all of those things OR... You could push. For Mary, she chooses to push. When the invitation comes, when Gabriel steps out from among the numberless ones to reach out the hand of God in invitation She chooses. Yes she says. Let it be with me according to your word. Let me see the world differently; let my pondering imagination fuel my resolve not to buy the status quo. Let me imagine and live a new reality. Peace. Good will toward all people. The unity of heaven and nature singing as one. And let me offer my whole self to this holy undertaking. She chooses. Yes. Yes let's do this thing. Let new life, a new world, be born in me. She seeks the company of an older woman Who is doing her own share of pondering and pushing And from their meeting there is a leaping of life in both of them. One pregnant too late One pregnant too early It becomes clear that our ideas of time and appropriate circumstances are not God's. Life leaps in both of them and from Mary's lips, A poem...a song of revolution. READ IT And by the time she reaches Bethlehem And her water breaks And the midwives arrive...surely there were midwives? The French call them sage

4 femmes...wise women how cool is that?? But I digress By the time she's in labour there is no time nor inclination for pondering. She begins to push As her body does what female bodies have done forever She labours and sweats and cries out and swears she can't do it And then she does it And she pushes again She pushes Jesus into the world. At great risk to herself. Her body. Her social standing. Her life in fact. And when it's over and the shepherds arrive (they're used to helping with birthing...and sheep aren't so different really...maybe they helped clean up, who knows?) When it's over and it's time for pondering again The world has changed. THEIR world has changed most certainly And ours? It's been the witness of millions upon millions that yes, the world changed. We're heading into What lies ahead of us is as yet a mystery But I believe I speak for most of us when I say that we are less confident, more anxious, and...well...scared...of what the year will bring. But with Mary I say What's to come is more than we know in our own hands. We are not helpless and without power. Herod rules over Mary's world, but not forever. He dies. They go home. Mary on the one hand the whole Roman Empire on the other It's SHE it's Mary we are talking about tonight. The odds seem overwhelming But we have a choice We can say yes or no. Yes or no to tyrants who rule by division and fear Yes or no to those who still seek shelter and a safe place for babies to be born Yes or no to those who would deny them Yes or no to the hubris of those who commit or endorse heinous acts against the poor, the unguarded, the helpless. Yes or no to the invitation to rise up against this. To push and push again, and let a new world be born in us.

5 Tonight I ask you please - When you leave here tonight Do not break faith with your awakened heart and the new life kicking within you. Ponder Ponder and push Ponder deeply. Push hard. And God, who is always pushing to bring about a new creation Is inviting you to treasure these things And ponder them in your heart. Let heaven and nature sing. Amen.