There's Something About Mary

This question comes from some of the fine folks who participated in our pre-Christmas Bible Study:

Dave,

During our Bible Study last time, we read about Mary's encounter with the angel and the news that she would be giving birth to the Messiah. We were all touched by her response! We have a question, though: She says in her song [Luke 1: 46-55] that:

“My soul glorifies the Lord
47     and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48 for he has been mindful
    of the humble state of his servant.
From now on all generations will call me blessed,
49     for the Mighty One has done great things for me—
    holy is his name...."

So the question is this: have we, as a church, forgotten about Mary? When the Protestants broke away from the Catholic Church, did we leave her behind? Is there a way to honor her more without being guilty of worshiping her?

Great question!  We'll try for a decent answer.

Mary has long been revered as the mother of Jesus.  As you've identified, the Roman Catholic church holds her in high esteem.  Truth be told, we Lutherans do too.  The hows and whys of that are determined by one question:  Are the reasons to call Mary "blessed" distinct, peculiar to her over and apart from the rest of us, or are those reasons for blessing more communal?

The "distinct" angle is pretty easy.  Mary was the Mother of Our Lord.  Ain't nobody else ever done that!  That distinction makes her special.  As such, we should revere her above ordinary folks.  The distinction of Mary's calling is certainly behind the Catholic reverence of her.  It immediately calls to mind the questions, "Why her?  What about her was so different or special?  There must be a reason, right?"  That reason has to be internal.  After all, if the selection was just random there would be no reason to reverence her.  So you get a whole canon of descriptions surrounding Mary:  pure, noble, meek, mild.  (Hmmm...now that I read those my feminist leanings are causing me to itch.  Isn't it suspicious that the Ideal Woman keeps her mouth shut and doesn't offend you any more than Ivory Soap does?)  In 1854 Pope Pius IX formalized a long-held belief that since Jesus was untouched by sin, his mother, too must have been without it.  Otherwise he would have been contaminated by her.  Therefore you have the Immaculate Conception, which says that after Mary's mom and dad created her in the womb, all of her sin was wiped away.  What's more, Mary's Mother (Anne or Hanna depending on who you talk to) was made a saint, mostly because she gave birth to Mary.

That's some reverence!

It's fair to point out that we Lutherans don't go this far.  It's also fair to point out that this is how far you have to go if you regard the reason for Mary's blessing as being distinct and inherent in her.  If this is the answer then we should have statues, parades...more than just the occasional feast day we hold in her honor.

But what if there's another answer?

Look at the entire text of Mary's song:

46 And Mary said:
“My soul glorifies the Lord
47     and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48 for he has been mindful
    of the humble state of his servant.
From now on all generations will call me blessed,
49     for the Mighty One has done great things for me—
    holy is his name.
50 His mercy extends to those who fear him,
    from generation to generation.
51 He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;
    he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.
52 He has brought down rulers from their thrones
    but has lifted up the humble.
53 He has filled the hungry with good things
    but has sent the rich away empty.
54 He has helped his servant Israel,
    remembering to be merciful
55 to Abraham and his descendants forever,
    just as he promised our ancestors.”

About whom does Mary sing?  This song isn't about her, it's about God and all the mighty things he has done.  And for whom has God done these things?  6 of the 8 passages describing his work talk about things he's done for his people.  Only the first 2 talk about what he's doing for Mary herself.  Those acts for her as an individual are quickly put in context with the entire salvation story.  In other words, even though this particular thing (bearing God's Son) is happening only to Mary, it's not a wholly new thing.  Instead it's the continuation--culmination, really--of the work God has always done for his people...the work he's been about since the moment of creation and which he will continue to do until the very last day.

This song isn't about how great Mary is.  By her own admission, she's just a servant.  She's a servant that people will call blessed because of her particular task, NOT because of her particular internal, inherent qualities.  The task, God's mission, God's work, God's miracles for his people...Mary is praising those things, not herself.

This is also what we reverence.  We do hold Mary apart somewhat because of her unique job.  We tell her story at Christmas.  We sing about her.  She does have her own feast day as the church year progresses.  We understand and celebrate that she got to do this special thing, which is why we talk about the Virgin Mary and not, you know, just "Jesus' mom".  But all that is only about 10% of the story.

The real heart of the story--the cause for celebration--is that God worked this wondrous thing and Mary had a chance to serve him through it.  That story isn't peculiar to Mary.  It's true for all of us.  Mary gave birth to Jesus.  Jesus died on the cross and rose again to claim us, redeem our lives, make us his brothers and sisters.  We are now God's folk.  We are vessels for his Spirit.  We are servants.  We, too, bear God.  We hear his voice in the voice of our neighbors.  The REAL miracle in Mary's journey was her giving birth to the Messiah, the Savior who opened God's family to us all.  The miracle is not one of exclusive distinction for her, but the radical inclusion of all of us.  Take away that radical inclusion and you've lost the purpose of the story itself, and therefore all reason to praise Mary.

Every time we claim we bear God's Holy Spirit with us, we are honoring Mary.  Every time we fulfill our tasks as God's servant we honor her too.  Every time we, too, claim that God is merciful, powerful, transforms the world, feeds the hungry, and continues his story of salvation to this day, we show true reverence to Mary as well.  It's not in pointing her out and putting her on a pedestal that we truly honor her, any more than doing so would honor your own mom.  It wouldn't, at least in any permanent way.  How do you honor your mother?  You live out the things she showed and taught you.  You become like her, treating the world with the same love and care that she showed you.

We don't just honor and praise a removed Mary up on a wall.  Every time God's Spirit pours out of us to fill the world, we have become Mary...not the physical mother of Jesus, but the spiritual mother that gives the world the goodness of God's presence.

And that...is reverence.

We have to be careful in these matters.  Sometimes the kind of reverence that looks the strongest and most obvious actually pushes the figure we're revering away from us, breaking the whole reason for reverence in the first place.  No statue of your mom can ever take the place of living out her mission.  Even attempting the statue route is, in a way, a confession that you either don't want to do the "living out" thing or you just don't trust that this is "real" reverence.  But it is.  Ask any mom which she'd prefer?  She'll tell you to save money on the statue and do the daily things that reflect her life instead.  And this is what we do.  It's less obviously reverential but it's not any less reverential.  In fact it's more, because both embrace and remembrance are tighter.

So, now, go and do as Mary did.  Bear God to the world.  Help him lift up the poor and humble.  Fill the hungry, embrace the lonely, raise God's children.  In this you honor her.  Because of this people will call her, and all God's children, blessed.

Keep those questions coming!

--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)

All Things Working for Good?

I got a nice question in response to the Epiphany sermon right below this post.  The source was the following paragraphs:

As annoying and sometimes traumatic as [life's] journeys can be, they're the only way our lives grow beyond our own stunted vision and self-will.  They're also the only way we ever get to see and understand the Messiah who, in the end, is too large and glorious to be contained in the static understanding of any individual.

God is sending your Epiphany star in many ways every day.  Do you see and do you follow or are you in the business of shutting out, shutting down, and killing off anything that's going to change the life to which you have grown accustomed? 

Our life's journey ultimately leads to the Messiah. 

The gist of the question was, "Does saying that 'all life's journeys ultimately lead to the Messiah' mean that all paths in life are inherently good?"

Extending the metaphor of the journey of the Magi a bit further, we find that this is not so.  The journey from the East culminated in Bethlehem with the Messiah but that does not mean that every step of that journey was sweetness and light.  The Bible doesn't describe the trek, but one may assume that it was hard and long with plenty of missteps, pointy rocks, reluctant camels, inclement weather, and what have you.  Those things weren't inherently good in themselves just because the destination was right.

More to the point, the Wise Men took a rather unfortunate detour into Herod's arms in Jerusalem and then were warned against returning to Herod on their way back.  These events precipitated the murder of many young children.  The path to Herod wasn't "good" and we may assume a return path to him would have been even worse, since the Magi were warned against it.

Our lives (and deaths) ultimately lead us to the Messiah.  That is righteous and proper.  It does not follow that any path we take in this life is good any more than every step the Magi took to the baby Jesus was equally good.  We make mistakes, get lost, step on those sharp stones, wade in weeds, experience all kinds of detours and distractions.  That doesn't stop God from bringing us to him in the end, but that act is as much deliverance and rescue as it is a happy homecoming.

Therefore it's perfectly fine to look at a path we, or someone we know, is taking and to say, "This does not seem like a good one."  The knowledge of our ultimate destination frees us from the burden of considering that judgment infallible and all-powerful.  God will decide our fate, our conceptions of good and evil paths notwithstanding.  Because we know God has the final say no matter what we decide, we are free to converse and even critique in our search for the best path forward.  Indeed, sometimes we are called to do exactly this, even to the point of intervening in difficult situations.  If you suspect your child is addicted to drugs, "Oh well, all paths ultimately lead to God!" is not the called-for response.  Rather it's, "All paths ultimately lead to God and goodness so why are you so invested in heading down this evil and destructive one that's just going to end up empty and powerless?"

Our ultimate destination does make a difference in how we perceive the world irrespective of good and evil, though.  We may not always be able to see the right, best, or even good path forward.  Most of the really difficult situations in life obscure our vision to the point that discernment of a "right" way is impossible.  But if we know that we are headed towards God no matter what we also trust that God is present no matter what. Even when we can't see the path forward, we trust there is a path forward.  More to the point, we trust that God will accompany us as we take the next steps forward even if they ultimately end up being the wrong ones.

In this way we experience the truth of the oft-misused quote from Romans 8:28,  "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."  Not all things are good, but God will not let non-good things have the last word.  He will ultimately work goodness for us even when we're on the most misguided paths.

The more "experienced" I've gotten in life the more I've come to understand this truism.  There are two kinds of people in the world:  those who trust in God's presence--and thus see/experience/share him--even in the most desperate of circumstances and those who cannot bring themselves to trust in God's presence no matter how ideal the path they're on.  The first type of person believes, hopes, endures, and walks with his or her neighbor through trial and tribulation, bringing comfort.  The second type of person always finds something to complain about.  The first person finds the potential for God and goodness in every moment.  The second wouldn't know goodness if it bit them in the behind.

All of us fall into both categories somewhat.  We will all find strength and we will all find the capacity to complain and find wrongness.  But when push comes to shove, one or the other of those traits will win out and guide our lives, particularly our lives of faith.  Not all paths are equally good, but each path has the potential to teach us something about life, love, faith, and God if we are the type of person to regard it so.  We have no choice over our ultimate fate and destination.  We do have the power of interpreting the circumstances of our daily lives and paths.  Will we believe that God works in, with, and through them (that they lead us to him) or will we deny him at the end, beginning, and on each step in between?

--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)

Tuesday Morning Sermon: The Epiphany Star

This Sunday's gospel came from the second chapter of Matthew.  It told the Epiphany story, the tale of the wise men from the East visiting King Herod of Jerusalem and finding the baby Jesus, following a star to pay him homage.

2 After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem 2 and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”
3 When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. 4 When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Messiah was to be born. 5 “In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written:
6 “‘But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
    are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for out of you will come a ruler
    who will shepherd my people Israel.’”
7 Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. 8 He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search carefully for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”
9 After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. 10 When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. 11 On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. 12 And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route.

The rest of the story in the verses following is quite sad.  Herod, furious that he's been outwitted by the Magi, orders all boys in Bethlehem 2 years of age and younger killed.  Jesus' first welcome into this world came from cows and shepherds.  His second greeting was genocide.  Only a quick flight to Egypt let him escape...until he turned 30.  Then he was hunted once again and eventually killed.

We're familiar with, and accepting of, the story of the Magi themselves.  It's part of our Christmas pageant.  Everybody knows "We Three Kings".  The gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh foreshadow our own Christmas gifts of Hello Kitties, Hot Wheels, and iPads.   We're less sanguine about Herod, his kin, and their pronouncements.  We skip over that part of the story, never answering the clear and resounding question:  WHY?

Why in the world would Herod and the people of Jerusalem, upon hearing news of the long-awaited Messiah, be disturbed (frightened)?  Why did they react the way they did?

The obvious answer, for Herod anyway, is that any new king threatened his power.  Heavy weighs the crown, as they say.  Kingship is only good if you can hold it.  Any number of people, including some of his closest family, would have been more than happy to depose Herod and take his place.  Between internal schemers and having to answer to the ruling Romans, Herod's lofty perch must have seemed quite tenuous.  Now news of a new king arrives?  No matter who sent him--even God himself--this guy has to go!  He threatens the structure.  He confuses the issue.  He makes everything unsafe, at least by conventional definition.

Therefore it's not surprising that Herod reacted the way he did.  Eliminate the threat!  Preserve life as you know it.  Stay in control, keeping your eye on the outcome you desire and not letting anything get in your way.  Is this not the very definition of strength?

The historical event is disturbing enough.  The sad lesson here, though, is that the gospel reveals far more than just history.  It shows us something about us, about our relationship with God and the world, that isn't pretty.

As we've mentioned several times before, most of us draw the circles of our lives very small.  Especially in this day and age when technology has given us power and choice over nearly everything, we only associate with the people and things we select.  Once upon a time we had to listen to 82 songs on the radio before the one we were waiting for came on.  Now it's 99 cents at a downloading service and the exact song is on our .mp3 player, repeated to our heart's content.  We never have to hear anything else.  Once upon a time we had to socialize in groups, often of semi-random makeup.  Our familiar friends would bring their annoying spouses and distant cousins to dinner parties. Now we have Facebook friends, private messaging, and the rest of the world on "ignore".  What purpose do the walls of our houses have, let alone the slats of our fences, except to define who is in our inner circle and who is out, what is ours and what is beyond our concern?

We allow people and things into our lives based on three criteria:

1.  That which we can control.
2.  That which we love and/or are interested in enough that it appeals to us despite our lack of control over it.
3.  Things we've gotten used to over time so that we don't feel the need to control them, as they don't threaten our basic way of life.

Consider your spouse or anyone you've had a long-term relationship with.  Serious reflection will probably tell you that at different times they've fit into all three of these categories.  When you first met them you had to decide if you were compatible, which is another way of asking if the edges of their life fit with the edges of yours well enough that getting together wouldn't disturb you in a way beyond your control or desire.  After a while you progressed to Category 2, wherein you discovered that you loved the person enough to find their differences and faults appealing in an odd way.  After 10 years of marriage that changed and you once again found those faults annoying, but by this time you've become so used to them that they don't threaten to spin you out of control anymore.  When you pick up dirty socks off the floor for the 632nd time you just sigh, you don't run in fear.  You'll never change this, but it's not going to change you either.  Had those dirty socks been a prominent feature of Stage 1 of your relationship, however, you probably never would have gotten married!

Most everybody and everything in our lives goes through this process.  If at any point something doesn't fit--if the changes are too great or the differences too dramatic--we simply leave and find something else more acceptable.  We shop at a different store.  We attend a different church.  We get some new Facebook friends.  Welcome to modern life.

Here's the problem:  God doesn't fit any of these stages.  God can't be controlled.  God doesn't always do things in ways that we expect or that appeal to us, ways that leave our lives untouched and bother-free.  And God won't settle for us getting used to him, packing him away in our little, closed lives.  Instead his whole purpose is to open up our lives, to transform them, to transform us.  God's grace doesn't await our convenience.  God's grace shakes the world in a most inconvenient way, revealing how little of it we've seen and understood so far.

Knowing God is like having the most amazing, annoying friend ever...the kind that shows up on your doorstep without warning and says, "We're going to that new Guatemalan restaurant that just opened!"

"But I had spaghetti warming on the stove."

"Well turn it off!  My car's running!"

"Wow," you say.  But also, "WOW!!!"  You know?  That's God.

The question is, how will we react when God sends us a message unexpectedly?  How do you respond when your child says, "I'm not going to Law School, I want to be an artist"?  How about when your spouse says, "We've been married 20 years and I've always had this dream.  I know it's going to change our lives, but I want to pursue it"?  Sometimes best friends say, "I feel very differently about this issue than you."  Other times you read a passage in scripture that you have a hard time agreeing with, or meet somebody in church you just don't get along with.

We know how Herod and the people of Jerusalem would react.  "No, son, you're going to Law School.  Too bad, honey, we can't disrupt the family.  Goodbye, best friend, I'm going to find someone who agrees with my point of view.  I don't care if the Bible says this, I make up my own mind.  And by the way, I'm finding a different church because I can't stand that person."  They would view these things only through the lens of their own comfort, prerogatives, privilege, plans, and will.  Too often that's what we do too.

You know what we're supposed to see instead?  The Epiphany Star, taking us on an wholly unexpected journey.  It's hard to see such inconvenient things as a message from God, let alone a guiding light from him.  It would be much nicer if he only spoke to us in ways we could easily accept.  But then we'd never move.

Our reaction to the unexpected, inconvenient, and even (from our view) occasionally wrong-headed is not supposed to be, "No!  Stop!  Get this out of my sight!"  Rather it's, "Grab the frankincense and camels, honey.  We're going on another journey."  (Memorize that phrase now, those of you who have teenagers.)  As annoying and sometimes traumatic as these journeys can be, they're the only way our lives grow beyond our own stunted vision and self-will.  They're also the only way we ever get to see and understand the Messiah who, in the end, is too large and glorious to be contained in the static understanding of any individual.

God is sending your Epiphany star in many ways every day.  Do you see and do you follow or are you in the business of shutting out, shutting down, and killing off anything that's going to change the life to which you have grown accustomed?

Our life's journey ultimately leads to the Messiah.  The only question is whether we'll walk it with eyes open, enjoying and marveling at the strange and lovely trip, or whether we'll shut our eyes tight and deny we're taking it at all.  Which world will you walk in, the safe and confining one you create for yourself or the glorious, infinite, and somewhat scary one into which God is calling you?

--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)

We're Back!

It's a new year and time to renew writing on-site.  I needed a break for a few months to recharge and to spend more time with folks in person.  Now we're back and ready to go.

We'll talk about this week's sermon tomorrow, but first...three announcements.

1.  Theology on Tap will be at Eric and Amy Peterson's place on N. Pine St. in town this Saturday at 7:00 p.m.  Join us for all the usual fun and discussion!

2.  We're looking for a couple of people to help enrich our Lenten experience this year.  You'd meet for an hour with me talking over the season of Lent, it's meaning and purpose, etc.  Then you'd go home and think about ways to enhance our Lenten journey inside and outside of worship.  You wouldn't have to think up stuff whole cloth (though you sure could if you were inclined).  We have helpful materials, especially for the in-worship stuff.  Then we'd meet and figure out one or two special things to do for Lent this year, which you might also help organize.  Let me know if you want to delve deeper into the meaning of Lent before it gets here.

3.  I'm going to do my best to post every day here to keep up interest.  You can help me with that.  Over the years I've learned that theology (i.e. "God Stuff") is a cooperative endeavor.  It doesn't do much good for one person to speak in a vacuum all the time, even if that person is good at speaking.  To discover God you need back and forth, two or more gathered...even if that gathering is in virtual space like this one.

I've also had plenty of experience with online community.  That other blog I write totaled 21 million page views in 2012.  That's a lot of eyes.  But those eyes come not just because of what I say, but for entertaining and intriguing questions and discussion.

Part of the reason I needed recharging is that it's hard to write every day here without much response.  I don't mean that I need the gratification of knowing people are reading.  People do read here.  Also I get plenty of that kind of gratification at the other place.  I don't need to be a superstar with billions of followers. But occasionally I do need some good questions or thoughtful conversation to keep me going, to feel like I'm not under pressure to come up with something all on my own every single day.

If you like reading here, if you missed it while I was on break (which several folks said they did), leave a comment every once in a while.  We don't have filters up anymore so you can just leave it and see it right away, as far as I know.  (If that's not happening, e-mail me and let me know.)  Either talk with me or talk with each other, but just provide another voice from time to time.  That'll restore my energy for the work here.

Looking forward to chatting with you about all things theological!

Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)