Learning from Mary Luke 1:26-38 Dr. Christopher C. F. Chapman First Baptist Church, Raleigh December 21, 2014 On December 20, 1992 I was dumb enough to preach a sermon entitled What to Expect When You Are Expecting. The title was taken directly from a book Dana was reading at the time because she was expecting. Ian was born on March 14, 1993 in a snowstorm. And I say I was dumb enough to preach a sermon by this title not because it was a bad sermon but because the premise was flawed, that of a man trying to imagine what it was like for a woman to be expecting a child. I m not sure any of us ever knows what another feels, but I am certain that men do not understand pregnancy. If the continuation of our species depended upon men in this way, extinction would be a reality within one generation! To make matters worse, in a special Advent service Dana already had been asked to read the part of the Christmas story where it says that Mary was great with child (Luke 2:5, KJV). She was feeling great enough without having to read that text and without me pondering the feelings of pregnancy. So, there was a personal component of the dumbness of this sermon. Over the years I have been smart enough not to attempt a dramatic presentation of Mary. I have portrayed just about every other character in the story but with Mary I have drawn the line So you might think I would have known better... But Mary is a central figure in the biblical story, especially the part of it we have read today, and there is much we can learn from her. So, while it may be unwise to try to get too far into Mary s head and heart, especially for a man, it does seem appropriate that we try to learn what we can from her. One thing we learn from Mary is the value of being honest, especially in regard to matters of faith. When the angel Gabriel 1
shows up and tells Mary she is favored and God is with her, she doesn t simply nod her head and say, Thanks for the update, Gabe, I thought so. Rather she is perplexed and she wonders what sort of greeting this is. We might think just seeing an angel would be perplexing enough, but people in this time were more accustomed to holy visitations, as people were in many times. According to legend, when Joan of Arc was on trial, the archbishop asked her, Do you claim to hear angels? She replied, Why yes. Don t you? No, I don t, he replied in amusement to which Joan replied, What a pity that you are an archbishop and you cannot hear the songs of angels (from Christmas According to Luke, Brett Younger, Lectionary Homiletics, December 2014/January 2015, p. 25). Simply seeing an angel might not perplex Mary, but the message the angel brings does, that she is favored and God is with her. She is a simple peasant. There is nothing special about her life. This is an unexpected revelation and so, rather than responding with a casual nod of the head, Mary is perplexed, and she makes no attempt to hide her feelings. When the angel tells her not to be afraid, because she will give birth to a special child who will be called Son of the Most High, Mary at first ponders the incongruity of this message - don t be afraid but you are going to have a child, even though you are not married; and the child will be royal in some way, even though you are not. And then, she wonders just what kind of news this is. How can this be, since I am a virgin? she says. Finally, Gabriel talks about the Spirit coming to conceive a child and of Mary s cousin, Elizabeth, having a special child too, and in the end, Mary embraces the angel s message, saying, Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word. But it takes a while to get there, probably much longer than the pace of the narrative seems to indicate. So, no matter what else we might want to say about this story, it seems clear that Mary is honest in her responses to God s messenger. She doesn t spend much time worrying about how she 2
will come across or calculating her words. She simply says what is on her mind. No, you can t be serious! God has what in mind? How will that look? And are you sure you have the right Mary? In the end, this honesty helps her to embrace the good news. In like manner, honesty helps us on our journey. I think about the great saints of our faith like Henri Nouwen and Mother Teresa, both of whom named their questions very honestly in their journals. Henri confessed to feeling nothing in his times of prayer and Teresa sensed the absence of God in the suffering of the masses. But I also think about the great saints of this church I have been privileged to know. Their gifts and interests varied, but one thing they had in common was honesty. Zua Moore and her willingness to speak her mind about whatever and whoever was the subject matter at hand; and of course, she knew everybody anyway John Matthis who was willing to name his faith struggles late in life and then publically renewed his faith at the tender age of 90! Gene Puckett and Ed Vick - one a pastor/scholar/journalist, the other a prominent lay leader who spoke out about a denominational takeover and spoke up in helpful ways to create what has become the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship Elmo Scoggin and John Hiott, two of greatest minds I have ever known, two of the finest Jesus people who have ever lived, yet two men who talked more about their questions than their answers at the end of life, men who had the courage to be honest. All of these dear friends were honest with God and everyone else, including themselves, and because they were, they grew. We would do well to follow their example. Yet, rather than being some kind of new lesson, this is actually a very old one, one of the first things we learn. In fact, it just seems to come naturally for children to be honest. They say what they think and ask for what they need, and as a result, they process grief faster, learn more naturally and grow so much more. Tell a child the Christmas story and you will get more questions than any theologian will pose and in a more direct fashion, 3
questions about what animals were in the manger, how God was in a life that makes a messy diaper, and what in the world a virgin is. But in the end, not in spite of but because of these questions, the child will remain engaged with the story. Honesty is a virtue in all of life and especially in regard to faith. This we learn from Mary. We also learn from Mary something about the need for courage if we are to be associated with this particular child who is born. Mary moves from fear and confusion to faith and a willingness to embrace the good news of God s work in and through her life. Some have interpreted her statement, Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word, as a weak kind of submission not to be copied especially by women who have been put in a submissive role far too long. I share the concern but Mary is not submissive in a weak, self-denying way. She does cooperate with God s plan for her life but she does so in a bold, courageous way. In Barbara Brown Taylor s words, she takes part in a thrilling and dangerous scheme with no script and no guarantees. She agrees to smuggle God into the world (from a sermon entitled Mothers of God referenced in Lectionary Homiletics, December 2005, p. 27). And the words of her song, the Magnificat, as we call it, make clear the reality that Mary understands something of the risks she is taking. For this child will bring down the powerful and lift up the lowly, feed the hungry and send the rich away empty. This Jesus will not leave things as they are, honor the status quo, proceed carefully. This messiah will turn the world upside down, speak radical words of justice and love, welcome and inclusion, and in the end, they will kill him. Mary will know the pain beyond all pains, losing a beloved child. Yet she will be among those with the courage to stay with him until the end. So, whatever we do, let us not speak of Mary as weak or passive, submissive in the worst sense of the word. She is a model of courage and faith, an example of unrelenting love. She is just a child now having a child, yet at the same time, so much more. 4
If we choose to associate with the child who is born, we will need some of this courage too. The writing is on the wall from the very beginning of his story. He is born in a nothing town to a poor unwed mother in a rough animal shed; revealed first to shepherds, then to outsiders, heathen, magi. He is a messiah, but not a conquering political warrior, rather a suffering servant. He calls followers to love enemies and forgive injuries and pray for persecutors. In short, his way is not for the timid. It is for those who have courage like Mary. The CBF missionaries we heard from last week, Chaouki and Maha Boulos, display this kind of courage as they give witness to their faith in their native Lebanon and minister to refugees, many from war-torn Syria. Chaouki talked about the distinctiveness of our faith where we are called to turn the other cheek and love our enemies. We are doing that as we care for these refugees, he said, as Lebanon and Syria have had many conflicts. What he did not say was that when he was 18, his father went to the store to purchase medicine and was shot and killed by a Syrian soldier. It s not just that the two nations have had conflict. His own father was killed. To love this enemy, as he does, takes courage. It is the kind of courage we are called to display if we are to follow this child who is born. From Mary we learn the value of honesty and the need for courage, and then we learn something about how we embrace the divine will. After all the fear and confusion, after asking her questions and considering the angel s answers, Mary finally says, Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word. How do we do that, how do we embrace God s will? Sometimes kicking and screaming, sometimes willingly. Sometimes joyfully, but often with an element of struggle. Sometimes in a way we expect and sometimes in a way that takes us by surprise. Mary does not seek out this role of playing mother to a suffering messiah. God seeks her out. And so it goes very often for us with God s will. By definition it is God s choosing. 5
The key is discernment, doing our best to see that it is God s will that we are following. It can be challenging enough to follow what we believe to be God s will, but if we are unclear about our calling, the challenge is much greater. And the truth is there is no way to know for certain, but if we are willing to seek God s will with all our heart, we can get to the place where we have a much higher level of confidence. In his book Thoughts in Solitude Thomas Merton says this. My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore, I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone (p.79). There is no such thing as certainty in discerning God s will, but the desire to please God does indeed please God. If we genuinely long to know God s will for our lives, we will somehow find ourselves moving in the right direction. And once we do this, we will be able to deepen our trust in God, which is what we need most of all to embrace the divine will. Trust, in the end, that is what it is all about, trust. That s how Mary is able to say, Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word. Honesty helps Mary get there and courage is required, but trust is what makes it possible, trust in the goodness and mercy of God, trust that God always wants the best for us. If we learn nothing else from Mary, this much is worth knowing, that we can trust God with our lives. 6