As I read through this Gospel text and the accompanying verses from Luke we heard in place of the psalm, I couldn't help but hum along. It is as if a playlist starts in my head, of favorite hymns and other songs that amplify Mary’s words.
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| Mary & Elizabeth, by Lauren Wright Pittman |
I think of the Annunciation song from a liturgy called Holden Evening Prayer. The movement from single voice to rich harmonies fills my ears, and the swell of sound as additional voices are added to sing Mary’s words: “My soul proclaims your greatness, O God, and my spirit rejoices in you, you have looked with love on your servant here and blessed me all my life through…” Hearing that version brings with it warm memories of my college chapel services and year of internship.
I think of the hymn called “the Canticle of the Turning,” a protest anthem, if there ever was one. Lest we think of Mary as meek and mild, the refrain draws us back to her bold, prophetic words: “My heart shall sing of the day you bring. Let the fires of your justice burn. Wipe away all tears, for the dawn draws near, and the world is about to turn.”
I think of the song “Mary, Did You Know?” and of how Mary’s Magnificat, sung in response to her relative Elizabeth’s blessing, is a glorious “yes” – she knew that God was a God who upends the expectations of the world, working miracles and doing the impossible.
I think of a song that’s new to me this Advent, from a band called The Brilliance, called “Open Up”, and especially these lines: “May your love cause us to open up Cause us to open up our hearts.” We celebrate Mary’s openness to God’s Word – her openness to hearing the word spoken through the angel and her openness to receiving the Word – the Living Word – that would begin gestating in her own body. And, we consider our own openness to God’s call, only possible through God’s love.
It’s fitting, I think, for Mary’s song to bring to mind connected refrains. Fitting, because her response to the angel and her song of praise are themselves connected to the stories of God and God’s people that took place long before she was born. God had always looked with favor on the lowly, like Hagar, and scattered the proud, like Saul. God had always filled the hungry with good things – remember Elijah and the widow? God had always helped his servant Israel; God was always faithful even when God’s people were not. Mary’s song re-tells the story of God’s faithfulness and mercy from generation to generation.
We celebrate Mary when we hear this text because she was courageous to say yes to God, courageous to stare straight back at the angel and announce, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”
She was courageous, yes, but we do well to also remember that her courage did not stem from a lack of fear or from some supreme confidence in herself and her ability to bear the Son of God into the world. No, Mary’s courage came instead from love – God’s love.
Love is a transformative and empowering force. It is powerful to hear, as Mary did, that we are seen, and known, and favored. It is powerful to hear, as Mary did, that the Lord is with us – Us! Of all people!
Like Mary, our courage to answer God’s call comes from God, and not from us. It is because of God’s presence with us that we are able to say yes. Transformed by love, we join in the song of generations past, the song of God’s mercy and God’s promise to make things right.
The angel was right – nothing will be impossible with God. The distance between our current circumstances and the things we know to be true about the Kingdom of God may seem impossibly far apart, but nothing will be impossible with God. God can and does bring forth life from destruction and death, and reality from impossibility. Along with Mary, we give thanks for God’s continuing faithfulness, and for the gift of love opens us to so many wonderful possibilities.
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