Sunday, December 20, 2020

Sermon: Joining Mary in Her Yes

 Luke 1:26-38
Joining Mary in Her “Yes”
James Sledge                                                                                       December 20, 2020

Annunciation to Mary, stained glass, Cathédrale de Chartres
from Art in the Christian Tradition,
a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library

There’s a banking commercial where a spokesperson walks through the bank, holding up his phone and says, “With a top rated app that lets you deposit checks and transfer money anytime, anywhere, banking with (our bank) is like the easiest decision in the history of decisions. Kind of like…” and the scene then shifts to an outdoor basketball court.

Two children are choosing players for their teams. Opposite them are four possible teammates to choose from: three children about their size, along with college and NBA great, Charles Barkley. The little girl who chooses first takes, not surprisingly, Sir Charles, who proceeds to celebrate saying “Yes! I still got it.” And looking down at the boy next him continues, “I told you she’d pick me first!” as the boy looks disgusted.

When I was a kid, we called this “choosing up sides.” It was a familiar ritual in the PE classes and playground gatherings of my youth. Basketball, softball, football, and more; two captains took turns picking teammates. It was great to be picked first, awful to be last.

Even if choosing up sides wasn’t part of your childhood experience, we’ve all dealt with versions of it. High school students take SATs and ACTs, send out applications to colleges and universities, then wait to see if they get chosen. Those graduating from college interview with employers and hope they get chosen. A supervisor position opens up at the plant and some of the workers apply and wait to see if they get chosen.

These adult choosing rituals may be a little more sophisticated than their playground cousin. For the most part they don’t include the public humiliation of being chosen last, but they still function in much the same way, trying to pick the best person available. 

This process is deeply ingrained into American culture. Traditionally, we are strong believers in meritocracy, in people being able to become and do all they are able to. We have little use for the rigid class systems of some other societies, where no matter how hard someone works, she can never advance beyond the status into which she was born.

Our system often serves us well, but it also shapes our understanding of what it means to be chosen. Whether it’s being able to shoot a basketball, close more big deals, design better software, and on and on, in our minds, being chosen means being judged superior or preferable to some other possible choice. 

And so we come to our gospel reading where the angel Gabriel shows up to say God has chosen Mary. “Greetings, favored one!”  Now we Protestants have never been quite sure what to do with Mary. A distaste for Roman Catholic practices of venerating, even praying to Mary has often led to dismissing her as much as possible. “She  had a baby, and she was a mom, nothing more,” said the men who ran the church.

Even so, we have tended to assume that there was something about this young virgin that qualified her for the job. She must have been very religious, very devout. Clearly there was something about her that made God choose her. After all, God got first pick and could have chosen anyone. But God chose Mary.

Except there is nothing in Luke’s account to suggest that Mary had the best résumé. We’re told nothing about Mary other than she was a virgin and engaged to Joseph. Not one word about her character, her personal attributes, whether she could shoot a basketball, or anything. We may presume that Mary has found favor with God because she’s the best qualified, because of some virtue on her part, but if so, it’s strange that Luke says nothing about that. And God’s favor, or God’s grace—it’s the same Greek word—is typically not a matter of merit, but of God’s graciousness and love, of God’s desire to embrace us.

______________________________________________________________________

In the Old Testament book of Deuteronomy, Moses makes a final address to the people of Israel just before his death. He recalls the history of the Exodus and the Israelites’ 40 years in the wilderness and says. “It was not because you were more numerous than any other people that the Lord set his heart on you and chose you--for  you were the fewest of all peoples.” A more literal translation says the Lord set his love on Israel, and one scholar suggested “was smitten with love.” Israel wasn’t very impressive, but it didn’t matter. God loved them and chose them.

But no matter how merited or unmerited God’s choice may be, Gabriel’s announcement to Mary of an impending pregnancy and birth is highly problematic. Mary states the obvious. She’s a virgin. But there are other, unspoken problems. Who is she to give birth to the Son of the Most High, the one who will ascend to the throne of David? How can she be expected to raise this Son of God? Mary has all sorts of reasons to exclaim to Gabriel, “How can this be?

Many of us have heard the story before and know the answer, for nothing will be impossible with God. This will happen, not because Mary is well prepared, devout enough, or good enough, but because of God. Oh, and also because Mary decides to say, “Yes.”

That’s the odd thing about God’s choosing. When God chooses Israel, when God chooses Mary, when Jesus chooses disciples, when God says to the Church, Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it, turns out that’s only half the equation. Those chosen must respond, must say “Yes” and then do their part.

Mary does say, “Yes,” and she is all in from that point forward, so all in that she sings prophetic words when she goes to visit her relative Elizabeth, so all in that she can already glimpse the new day, the kingdom that Jesus’ birth will herald. Mary’s all in is not much like what too often passes for faith in our day: believing in God or Jesus. Mary does much more than I believe. She’s been enlisted in the work of God’s coming new day. She’s been chosen, and she answers, “Yes. What do you need me to do?”

God chose Mary. God has also chosen you. God’s heart is set on you, smitten with love for you. God’s choosing doesn’t come because of your qualifications. Not because you’re smart enough or accomplished enough or good enough or any other sort of enough, but because God is so loving, so smitten with humankind. And God can work wonders through you because nothing is impossible for God. Oh, and also because you decide to say, “Yes.”

I should warn you, though. Saying “Yes” often seems like a terrible idea. It may well ask you to let go of things you treasure. It does ask you to follow the way of Jesus rather than the inclinations of your own heart. It asks you to put Jesus and his gospel ahead of even your own life. Why would anyone do such a thing?

The angel said to Mary, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you… for nothing will be impossible with God. Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” And just look at what happened.

May you and I join Mary in her “Yes,” in her “Here am I, the servant of the Lord.” And when we do, I wonder what just might happen.


No comments:

Post a Comment