December 15th, 2019 - Download a Worship Bulletin Above Luke 1:39-55
In those days, Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, where she entered teh house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the child leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud cry, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the moth of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord." And Mary said, "My soul magnifies the Lord, And my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; He has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever." When I was in school in Boston, one of my favorite ways to unwind from long days of classes was to explore all that the city had to offer: from restaurants to concerts, museums and sporting events, I loved being immersed in the culture and art of Boston. The city is a bustling place with tons of energy and endless ways to spend time. In the midst of all of this movement, one of my most cherished spaces to slow down and reflect was at the Museum of Fine Arts, close to Northeastern University and about a ten minute drive from Boston University. As a student, I had free access to the museum, and I visited at least once a week, wandering through the corridors of paintings and sculptures. I often had favorite galleries in which to simply be present to the art around me, and I loved visiting the museum. From time to time, the city of Boston didn’t exactly love me visiting the museum - there were only a few parking tickets stuck to my windshield during my time in Boston - but I loved the place nonetheless. One day I was visiting the museum, just wandering through the galleries, and I was stopped by someone who asked where the restrooms were located. “Oh, they’re just outside of the New American Cafe; just go down the side staircase and they’re on the righthand side,” I answered. They thanked me, and I continued on my way down the corridor, heading toward the Ancient World Art wing. Another woman stopped me, asking if I knew where the painting of the two girls next to the blue vases was located; she apologized, saying that she couldn’t remember the name of the artist. “Oh, that’s okay! Is it the one that has the blue vases from the painting standing upright next to the painting itself? I think it’s a Sargent painting - one of my favorites, and it’s in the Art of the Americas wing, just head back from where you came and it’s the gallery on the right.” She thanked me and moved on toward her destination. At this point, I was a little bit confused because normally, people in Boston aren’t that open to conversation, but I figured they just might not be from around here. Nonetheless, it was nice to help folks who just needed some assistance getting around. It’s a big museum, after all. But when someone else stopped me not even five minutes later, I knew something was up. He asked if I liked it here at the museum, and I said, “Of course! There’s just so much to see. And it’s so quiet; it’s nice to get away from the bustle of the city sometimes.” He then asked how long I had been working here. I looked down and realized that I was wearing all black - black slacks, blouse, and black boots. During my last year in seminary, I was working at a winery where our work uniform consisted of all black, and I would be headed to work that afternoon. Little did I know, I had been bearing the image of someone working at the museum, and I had carried with me the knowledge of all that the museum had to offer. I laughed and explained that I didn’t work here; I had just made the mistake of wearing all black to a museum, but that it might be fun to work in this field one day. This morning’s reading comes to us from the Gospel of Luke, where we hear the narrative of Mary and Elizabeth recognizing the Divine within themselves and one another. Prior to our reading, we hear that Mary, a young girl, has become pregnant through the blessing of the Holy Spirit, and she decides to travel to see her relative Elizabeth, a much older mentor who is also pregnant, to share the news. But Mary didn’t have to say a word for Elizabeth to know what was happening, for her son, who would later become John the Baptist, leapt within her womb in joy, a divine recognition of the Christ child. Elizabeth blesses Mary through a beautiful prayer of encouragement and wisdom, and Mary responds with what is often referred to as the Magnificat, or Mary’s Song. Mary offers praise to God for all God has done, and she sings that her soul magnifies God - a beaming source of love and light, made ever more apparent as the Christ child’s appearance draws closer. “This very human-sized story prepares us for the grand, history-changing birth that is yet to come,” states one commentary. The One who is to come comes with mercy and grace, exalting the lowly and encouraging the wealthy to share their resources for the sake of those without. This is the Christ for whom we’ve been waiting. Ultimately, our passage this morning depicts two women mutually encouraging one another in the midst of exciting, unexpected, and perhaps scary blessings. The sheer fact of each of these pregnancies - Mary, who was a young virgin, and Elizabeth, who was advanced in age - is a miracle inofitself. But both benefited from the other’s ministry, expanding the miracle toward connection and community. As one commentary puts it, “God removes [the women’s] isolation and helps them understand themselves more fully as part of something larger than their individual destinies. Together, they are known more fully and begin to see more clearly than they do as individuals.” You see, these two women are not only linked by their shared pregnancies; they are also linked by the ways in which they are bearing the image of the divine to the world: Elizabeth through John the Baptist, who will prepare the way for Jesus, and Mary through bearing the Christ child himself. Mary, in a sense, is a Godbearer - bearing the human Jesus who is the divine Christ. She carries within herself the potential for the blind to see, the lame to walk, the poor provided with good things, the dead to rise. She “contains the uncontainable,” and she bears God to the world through her unique motherhood and her faithfulness to God in raising her son in his earthly needs and encouraging him in his divine nature. And she does so in joy, reveling in God’s providence in gifting her and all the earth with salvation through this tiny baby boy. As we reflect on Mary, we also recognize that Jesus himself is the ultimate Godbearer, Emmanuel, God with us. Jesus bears the image of the invisible God, bringing forth all love and grace from God the Creator. Jesus walked this earth as fully human and fully divine - an overlay of the earthly and the heavenly - and his ministry brought joy to all whom he encountered. He gave sight to the blind, who joyfully experienced the beauty of the earth once more. He lifted people from their afflictions, who joyfully responded in dance and a new life. He multiplied the blessings of food for all those who were hungry, and they joyfully went on their way, bellies full and empowered to bless others and keep the miracles going. He raised the dead, who were joyfully reunited with their loved ones and went on to live lives of gratitude and generosity. Through it all, Jesus’ ministry was about restoring lost joy, bearing the image of the Divine to the downtrodden and lonesome. And what about us? What image are we bearing to the world? Aren’t we, too, called to be Godbearers to the world around us? “Godbearing is about the manner in which we participate in the giving and receiving of life in its fullest,” says scholar Elaine A. Robinson, who recognizes that our mission begins and ends with Christ. We are the Body of Christ, called to live with open hands, hands ready to give joyously - whether through our time, gifts, or talents - and open hands ready to humbly receive the grace we have through Christ and the ministry of others. Ultimately, our Christian story isn’t that Christ died for us; rather, it’s that Christ lived for us - lived life abundantly so that we too, might live as Godbearers in the example of Jesus’ ministry on earth. As we close this morning, I invite us to reflect on what it would mean for us to bear God to the world this week. Maybe it’s wearing all black to a museum that you love and helping people along the way. Or maybe it means dropping a card in the mail for someone who could use a little extra joy this time of year. Or maybe it means making a phone call to someone with whom the relationship has gone sour and seeking reconciliation. Godbearing can be something as simple as a smile to the person bagging your groceries or allowing someone to go ahead of you in line at the store. It is a life of generosity and joy, of grace and love, poured out for many through the ministry of Elizabeth and John the Baptist, of Mary and Jesus, and of God our Creator. May we experience the joy of Mary’s song this week. May our souls magnify God in our actions and through our prayers. And may we fully embrace our call to be Godbearers through Christ, the original Godbearer. Amen. - Pastor Christy Wright
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