It almost seems unfair to relegate the season of Advent to four weeks while granting the season of Lent the luxury of forty days. I mean, there is certainly a lot to unpack during the season of Advent. But that would push Christmas into mid-January and while the merchandisers wouldn’t mind having the extra days to remind us that life would be so much better if we just bought what they were offering, we will just have to settle for lesser days.
Every year at this time, Mary comes into the spotlight in a way that she does only one other time, at the foot of the cross. Depending on whether you find her in either Matthew or Luke’s gospel as these are the only two gospel writers who record Jesus’ birth in the traditional way that we think of, Mary is quite the interesting figure. In Matthew’s birth story, Mary never says a word. Even though she is mentioned five times, she is always identified either as the wife of Joseph or the mother of Jesus. It is just not so easy to get to know Mary if we rely only on Matthew’s take. You may assume that Mary was only a submissive and silent wife and a humble mother.
But don’t turn the pages over to Luke’s story if you find some sense of peace in Matthew’s story. Luke isn’t having any of that description. He gives Mary a major role in the birth narrative, naming her name twelve times. While Matthew’s angel comes to Joseph in a dream to announce the birth of the child, Luke’s angel appears directly to Mary in the light of the day. Mary receives and responds to the overwhelming news of her miraculous pregnancy by heading off to the Judean countryside to visit her cousin Elizabeth. Mary, in Luke’s story, has found her voice, and shares with Elizabeth her thoughts and feelings.
She then breaks out in song. At first, she begins with praise to God. But before long, as eavesdroppers to her music, we realize that this is not some sweet lullaby she is singing in anticipation of the birth of the baby Jesus. This is no quaint confession of a personal relationship with God. This is nothing less than a freedom song, a song that views the world much differently than it appears at the present. She sings a song of freedom for all who, in their poverty and wretchedness, still believe that God will make a way where there is no way. This is a song about who God lifts up and who God brings down.
Some might accuse the song’s lyrics as coming from the starry-eyes naïveté of a young peasant girl, but let us keep in mind what God is already doing in this story of her visit to Elizabeth. Elizabeth is no spring chicken. She is an old, barren woman, scorned for her in ability to bear children. And Mary, she is an unmarried, pregnant teenager living in poverty and facing shame. What in the world is God doing here?
And that is why we need more than four weeks to unpack this story of God preparing to birth a revolution. Mary has already begun singing her song! What will our response be? “Sing it, Mary, sing it out loud until your song becomes our song!” Or would we prefer Mary to be quiet as Matthew tells the story?
See you Sunday,