M. Campbell-Langdell
All Santos, Oxnard
Advent 4 C + 12.22.24
(Micah
5:2-5a; Canticle
15 (or 3); Hebrews
10:5-10; Luke
1:39-45, (46-55))
“My soul
sings of you O God
My spirit
delights in your presence
You have
cherished my womanhood
You have
honored earth’s body
All will
know the sacredness of earth
All will
know the gift of life…”
Thus begins “The Song of Mary” by Fran McKendree, may he rest
in peace, a fitting song for our scriptures today. In today’s gospel reading, we
see a most ordinary interaction that within it cloaks something entirely out of
the ordinary. Mary, having learned that she is pregnant, travels to see her
cousin. Does she go for advice from the older woman? Does she go to help her
out in her advanced pregnancy? It may have been a bit of both, but either way
Mary makes a long journey in her early pregnancy to see her cousin. She has
likely traveled this way before. I imagine her striding confidently to the hill
country to meet her relative. She likely had a lot of time to reflect upon the
way and to process the un-processable, that through her God would be welcomed
into the world in a new way in the birth of Jesus.
The two women meet with such joy, and this joy and love is
palpable in the scriptures. Our niece Michelle O’Neill, an extraordinary mother
herself, points out that the two women here represent different aspects of
atypical motherhood. Mary represents a mother who parents “the impossible,” and
Elizabeth, who conceives later in life, experiences unexpected parenthood.[1]
In this meeting, there is the power of motherhood in all its forms, especially
the unexpected forms parenting can take. As an adoptive mother, I relate! Here,
the women meet and their meeting feels momentous, a forming of community not
just for them but the basis of community between many types of parents.
And then something interesting happens, a quickening in
Elizabeth’s womb, the time when the baby begins to move! Perhaps the first time
when a woman of the ancient world would be fully sure that she had a real live
baby inside of her. Perhaps. Regardless, in this amazing moment, not only
Elizabeth but also her baby John recognize not only the coming of Mary into
their midst but also the coming of the presence of Jesus. This is a foretaste
of the coming week when we will honor Jesus’ coming into the world. The baby in
her womb leaped for joy!
In this scene I see so much solidarity, between women, and a
sense of the way in which Mary models not only care for others but also care
for herself in this moment when she is potentially vulnerable, carrying the
Christ child. She seeks protection and also helps her cousin. How can we both
seek help in caring for our own needs and seek to serve others using her
example? The two women show us such solidarity, such community, and I think
that in Christian community we can see faith in each other, too, and reflect
that joy back to each other. When Min and I visited Joyce last week, I thought
of how even though Joyce is experiencing memory loss, the two friends recognize
each other with joy. So many here see each other and feel joyous. That is the
beauty of Christian community. We encourage each other’s faith just by showing
up and praying together.
But lest we think this story is all sweetness and light, we
must remember that Mary and Elizabeth are prophets here. Elizabeth knows in her
spirit that it is not just her cousin who visits, but also the mother of
God-coming-into-the-world. She knows.
And Mary, moving from this moment into song, more fully
realizes and prophesies what God is doing in this moment. Something big is
happening. Mary is fierce. She knows that what God is doing is going to upend
the whole of creation as she knows it. Peter Carlson posted an image of Mary on
Facebook the other day that shows her in this dynamic light, suffering no
fools. She is not just a submissive and passive recipient and bearer of the
Word of God, but she is a prophet. She sees, before anyone else, what God is
doing in the world. And she proclaims it to be good. As Wilda Gafney puts it in
her Women’s Lectionary (Year B): “Yielding herself to God, Mary joins the ranks
of those deemed “servants,” or slaves of God: Moses, David, Paul, James.
Through her yielding, the first Advent comes to us.”[2]
And that
Advent is not without disruption.
Fran McKendree’s
“Song of Mary” continues:
“Your grace
is to those who are outcast
Your mercy
to the humble in heart
The dreams
of the proud crumble
The plans of
the powerful fade
You feed the
hungry with goodness
You deny the
rich with greed
The hopes of
the poor are precious
The birth
pangs of creation are heard
You have
been faithful to the human family
You are the
seeds of new beginning.[3]
With Mary and Elizabeth today, we lift up the seeds of a new
beginning. In this an ancient beginning, we remember that Jesus came into the
world all those years ago not to maintain the status quo, but to help us to see
God and the world in a new light. To shake things up. To renew us all.
As we prepare for Christmas and the New Year, how can we look for the seeds of
a new beginning? How can we seek to hush the louder voices of hate and division
and instead keep pointing to the lowly and bold mother who is willing to take
on the world? To those who, like Mary, would nurture and show love in the face
of adversity and hate? In the midst of hearing not only Christmas bells but
also reports of gunfire and cries of pain on the news, let us remember. Remember
that God is giving grace to the outcast and that it is exactly when the rich
and powerful feel they are at their height that their dreams are liable to
crumble into dust. And that we are invited with Mary into a dance with God in
the shifting of what has been.
Be heartened, this Advent, to know that those who are hungry
will be fed and those who are oppressed will be lifted up. That Mary and God
care for children and all those who are vulnerable, and cry tears for those who
cannot feel love or compassion.
At the same time, a challenge for many of us, me included, is
to remember the humbling flip side of the reversal Mary mentions. If I am fed
now, or experience relative power, I may experience hunger, or a dislocation of
power, or something else, and that is okay. It is okay to feel the ground shift
beneath your feet if you are a person of privilege. That’s how you know God is
doing something new, and bringing something and someone into the world who can
save us all. The good news is that despite the reversal of individual fortunes,
we are all seeking God’s nurturing grace in our lives, and in the solidarity of
Christian community, we can feel that grace together, even if it is just a
glimpse of what is to come when we are in God’s presence. We just have to be
open to saying a Holy Yes. Amen.
[1]
Michelle O’Neill, Facebook Post, December 18, 2024.
[2] Gafney,
Wilda C. A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church Year B (p. 73). Church
Publishing Incorporated. Kindle Edition.
[3]
Fran McKendree, “The Song of Mary” from Awake, The Song of Mary.
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