Christmas Eve, 2014
Luke 2:1-20
“But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart”.
O Mary, such
words to treasure in your heart – a
heart that is no stranger to fear and darkness – a heart which has been taught
that apart from your father, and now your betrothed, you have no identity; A heart that has been filled with the
enslaving notion that you are more property than person; a heart that has known
the fear of conceiving a child out of wedlock in a world that would kill you
for that. And now this?
Mary O precious
Mary, how could you have known that such a thing would happen to you? You, who have nothing. You, living in a community of migrant workers
called Nazareth. A place, like you, so
small, so inconsequential it shows up no one’s map; least of all Caesar’s.
Caesar
Augustus, whose very name means “revered”; the one who calls himself “son of
god”, the giver of royal edicts, so mighty, so god-like, whose soldiers pass by
your town everyday never even casting a glance in your direction; as if you were
invisible. As if you never existed.
But exist,
you do. Though just a teen, you are the
keystone connecting the history of God’s promised salvation to a future where
those promises are fulfilled for all the world. Though just a teen, your lips have responded
to God’s grace with scandalous trust and a wisdom that spans the ages, rejoicing
in your God, and proclaiming God’s reality of mercy where “the mighty are brought down… the lowly are lifted up and the hungry
are filled with good things.”
Your teenaged
heart and body have made room for God. Space: holy space has been created in
which you – you of all people Mary – have until this night kept God safe in
your womb. Your body has done the
impossible. Your body has nourished
God’s. Your body has kept God safe,
providing all that is needed for God to do this new thing; this new thing whereby God takes on our flesh
and blood.
“To you is born this night in the
city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord”
Words from
on high, as Heaven bends to touch the earth this night. Words of “great joy” yet words that cut like
a knife, interrupting that most intimate space between mother and newborn. Though filled with great promise, these words
are a painful reminder that this baby does not belong to you alone; that this
night does not belong to you alone.
For this is the One whom prophets of old foretold.
This babe in
your arms is the long-awaited Messiah who has been “anointed to bring good news
to the poor; to proclaim release to the captives; to let the oppressed go free”
This babe in
your arms is the long-awaited Messiah and yet he will never occupy palaces or
seats of power.
This babe in
your arms whom angels adore and shepherds flock to see this night will one day
enrage the religious and political powers-that-be by announcing that God looks
with favor upon and is found within the displaced, the marginalized, the
refugee, the persecuted, and the occupied.
O Mary, how
can you even begin to fathom what happens in the years to come? These eyes that gaze up at you in trust and
love tonight will one day gaze with compassion upon thousands who hunger on a
Galilean hillside. The eyes of an infant
fixated on your tender maternal face this night will one day look with pity and
love upon the face of a synagogue leader whose daughter is near death. The cries of a hungry newborn will one day
turn to laments over Jerusalem, who “kills the prophets and stones those who
are sent to it”. The coos and cackles
of your newborn this night will one day turn to words of forgiveness for those
who torture and execute him on the hardwood of a Cross.
Mary, O
precious Mary, your tears of joy this night will one day turn to inconsolable
cries of a mother who loses her child to violence and death.
And yet God
will not leave you there in the darkness and terror of grief. God will not leave you tormented in your own
personal hell. For not only do angels tell
shepherds in a field to “fear not”, but your own son, when he is raised from
the dead, will utter those same hope-filled words to those mired in grief,
despair, and fear.
Mary, the
babe in your arms though found with you here on this holy night, will one day be
found in other places. Wherever God’s
children are sleeping in the cold, fleeing from persecution and violence, or
being born as refugees, we find your child, our Savior proclaiming God’s good
news of great joy. “Do not be afraid little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure
to give you the kingdom”.
