Pregnant With Possibilities

Scripture:  2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16,  Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26

       Romans 16:25-27,  Luke 1:39-55

Today’s gospel reading picks up where last week’s reading left off.  Remember last week, we read of the angel’s announcement to Mary that she would bear a son, who would be great. (expand on this)  The angel also told Mary that her relative Elizabeth, who was long past the age of childbearing and had previously been unable to bear children, was now in the sixth month of her pregnancy.  In today’s gospel, Mary sets out to visit Elizabeth.  “Old Elizabeth six months pregnant?  Now I’ve heard everything! Could the angel’s words be true?” she may have said to herself.   She arrived, and we’re told that the baby Elizabeth was carrying – who would become John the Baptist – leapt in her womb at Mary’s arrival.  

Each of the four gospels has its own unique features, because they were written for different audiences.  The early part of Luke’s gospel reads like the script for a musical, because there are four canticles or songs – Mary’s song, called the Magnificat, Zechariah’s song, called the Benedictus, the song of the angels, called the Gloria, and Simeon’s song, which we’ll read next week, called the Nunc Dimittis.  These names are from the Latin for the first words of each song.  And so today we read Mary’s song, the Magnificat.

And what a song!  Mary begins by praising God – “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior” – and giving thanks to God for remembering her – “For he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.”    But then she starts looking to the future – “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.”  As she looks ahead to what her child will accomplish, she speaks of great change, and speaks as if this change has already happened:  He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the imaginations 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, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”  Whew! What a mouthful!  A picture of a world turned upside-down – or maybe turned right side up  – and the baby hasn’t even been born yet!  And yet Mary speaks of all these things as if they’re already a done deal!  So Mary’s song is not only a song, but also a prophecy.

Our Old Testament text from Samuel seems a little out of place in his Advent season, but it’s there for a reason.  The backstory is that King David, having been established on the throne of Israel, recognized that he dwelt in a palace while the Ark of the Covenant, where God was thought to dwell, had no permanent resting place.  David thought of building a Temple, and told the prophet Nathan of his plan.  At first Nathan encouraged David to go ahead, but was later told by God that David would not be the one to build a house for God, because on his path to the throne, David had gotten a whole lot of blood on his hands.  Moreover, Nathan said, God would build David a house.  This is a play on words – David meant to create a physical building for God, but God meant to create for David a house in the sense of a dynasty that would rule over Israel.   Jesus, a descendent of David, would be a further fulfillment of this prophecy.  This further fulfilment of God’s promise to David was one of many things that Mary celebrated in her song.

Some of us look at the world around us, and see what is.  Some look and only see what isn’t there, what’s missing, what’s broken, what’s lacking.  But God looks on people and on the world with different eyes.  God looked on old, barren Elizabeth, and saw a mother for John the Baptist.  God looked on young, unmarried Mary, and saw a mother for Jesus.  The same is true of God’s people.    Mary was able to consider the baby Jesus – to whom she hadn’t even given birth – and see what could be, the amazing possibilities of her baby.  Indeed, in the birth narratives, every character looks on Jesus with different eyes. Joseph initially saw a baby out of wedlock and the likely end of his relationship with Mary, until the angel opened his eyes to greater possibilities. Elizabeth saw Mary, and saw the child within Mary as her Lord, just as Elizabeth felt the movement within her own expanding belly and sensed the joy that the unborn John the Baptist felt. Elizabeth’s husband Zechariah saw a sign of God’s favor, a mighty savior for Israel from the house of David.  Simeon and Anna, whom we’ll meet next week, saw a light of revelation to the Gentiles and the glory of Israel, saw one who was destined for the falling and rising of many in Israel – and saw one who would cause a sword to pierce the soul of Mary.  The Wise Men, whom we’ll meet in two weeks, saw a new ruler to whom they paid homage.  And Herod, whom we’ll also meet in two weeks, saw a rival to his throne, whom he tried to have eliminated.

When we consider the Christ Child, what do we see?  Two thousand years after the coming of Christ, can we still feel the hope that made Mary sing?  Or is this yesterday’s news?   Is it maybe like an empty box and some crumbled wrapping paper after presents are opened, something that held something that was  precious to us once, but comes up empty for us now. Perhaps we feel some nostalgia for hopes we held at one time, but have lost sight of as life has beaten us down.  Sometimes it can be hard to hold on to hope – as we look at the world around us, the powerful are still on their thrones, the lowly are still feeling low,  the rich are richer than ever, and the hungry are hungrier than ever.  Can we look past the world as it is to envision the world Mary saw, the world Mary knew her son would bring about?

As we read the words of Mary’s song, the Magnificat, we can join Mary in looking to Jesus with hope.  The hopes we place in Jesus can change how we look at everything else….how we look at our lives, and how we look at our church, Emanuel Church.  We’re an old congregation, a small congregation, a struggling congregation.  But over this past year, I have seen new life here.  Over this past year, something has shifted, in a very positive direction.  Something is happening.  Members who hadn’t put themselves forward in the past are stepping up to take on new projects, to try new things.   I’m hearing more and more often, “No, Pastor Dave, you don’t have to get involved with that, we’ve got it covered.”  Music to my ears….though I struggle sometimes to let go of responsibility ….that will be one of my New Year’s resolutions for 2018, to stay out of the way and keep my mitts off things when you’re on a roll. And there’s a good spirit between members here, as I see you checking in on each other, praying for one another, calling and texting to encourage one another through difficult times.  We’ve seen prayers answered and seen healing take place, and Millie saw a miracle with Albert having returned to health.   And people from the neighborhood are starting to find their way here.  Over my first 9 years here, I did one wedding, and that was in my first summer here.  Before that wedding we had gone ten years or more without a wedding, and afterward we went eight long years without a single wedding.  This year I did four weddings…people are starting to learn that yes, Emanuel Church is still open and yes, we do weddings here. Two weeks ago we had a social hall full of children, so many children, in a church that ten years ago had none.   And there’s more to come in 2018!   Something is happening.  God is in this.  God is at work here.  And what God will do with us, I have no idea….as the hymn says, “God is the potter; we are the clay.”  But just as God looked on the aged and barren Elizabeth and saw a mother for John the Baptist, just as Mary looked on Jesus and saw a world of possibilities, God is looking at our old congregation and seeing new possibilities...possibilities for bringing uplift to the lowly and food to the hungry……and I pray we can catch a glimpse of God’s vision, for Emanuel Church and for our own lives. 

Are we willing to join in Mary’s song?   Do we want a world where the powerful are dethroned, the lowly empowered, those who are hungry – for food, shelter and clothing, for love and connection, for meaning and purpose – filled, and those who hoard wealth made to share, like the story of Zacchaeus, also found in Luke’s gospel along with Mary’s Magnificat, a story in which a dishonest and very wealthy man after meeting Jesus promised half his possessions to the poor and fourfold repayment to anyone he had defrauded?  And truly, even though much poorer at the end of the story, Zacchaeus was blessed, as Jesus helped him break his addiction to wealth to embrace a way of life that was truly lifegiving to himself and his community. Zacchaeus is what the words of Mary’s song look like when put into action.    But is this a dream for us, or a nightmare?  Is it a Christmas present, or a lump of coal?  What do we think of Mary’s song? Are we willing to sing along, and having sung, to act as midwives to help give birth to Mary’s vision?

May God grant us ears to hear the beauty of Mary’s song, and to join in.  May God grant us eyes to see that just as the angel of the Lord showed up in out of the way places like Nazareth and Bethlehem,  among shepherds and in a manger, God shows up in Bridesburg as well.  May God give us eyes to see that Emanuel Church is pregnant with new possibilities, and that our own lives at whatever age are pregnant with possibility.  May we all help to midwife and birth those possibilities into a world seemingly overwhelmed with impossibilities.   And at the end of it all, may we join the angels in singing “glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace and goodwill to all.” Amen.