Just the other day I attempted to correct my daughter when she was telling someone about some event or activity, and she said, “Dad, the story works better when you tell it this way!” I don’t remember what the story was about, but I knew two things. She is definitely my child, and she was also right about the story!
I’m sure you’ve had a similar experience – or soon will– with family stories over the holidays. This is the season for storytelling, whether it’s personal or liturgical or cultural. It’s what we do to get through the end of one year and move into another. Sometimes these stories take on more life when we tell them together.
It’s no wonder that group storytelling – or at least sharing and sometimes even watching – has become the new frontier in social media. Perhaps that’s because it’s the way inspiration often works. Your story informs my storm and our story is born. It’s nothing new, even if it is happening in new ways.
In fact, the idea of group storytelling across the ages is the basis for our pairing of lectionary readings today. Sometimes it’s hard to see the relationship between the new and the old, but today is definitely one of those times when we hear theologians like Karl Barth say that the “Old Testament points to the New Testament, which points to the Old Testament, which points to Jesus.” [Not a direct quote, but you get the idea.]
Our story starts with a Prophet speaking the truth of God’s promises to a people who are conquered and scattered, and it reaches back to an earlier promise by naming Bethlehem “of Ephtrathah.” It’s a word that means “fruitful,” and it implies great faith. It’s also the name of the grandmother of Caleb, one of the two spies that entered Canaan and agreed that with God’s help nothing was impossible.
Out of Bethlehem of Ephrathah is where the promise of salvation is coming! Out of a place of great faith – and a people who symbolize great faith – is where the promise of salvation is coming. This much was known by Elizabeth, the wife of a Prophet whose mouth had been shut when her pregnancy was announced. This much was known by Mary when she came to see Elizabeth and tell her about the miracle inside of her.
In some ways, this text answers the question the popular song asks when we hear, “Mary, did you know? Did you know that your baby will give sight to the blind, calm storms, and kiss the face of God?” Of course, she couldn’t know, but she knew the promises of God. She couldn’t know how the treasure would pile up in her heart. She couldn’t know how pierced her soul would be when he was lifted high on a cross. Yet she must have known that God is a God of mercy. She must have known that this baby would grow to be a man who would fulfill God’s promises!
Now, we have to remember that, according to Lukes Gospel, Mary has already been told by an angel that she will have a child. Elizabeth’s husband has been told that her child will announce the coming of the Messiah of God. So, it is nothing less than the work of God’s Spirit between them that makes John leap in the womb at the approach of Mary. It is nothing less than the work of the Spirit that inspires Mary to sing about salvation!
That’s why I love the image on the bulletin cover of Elizabeth’s hand on Mary’s belly. I love the idea that it is through our human connections that we can be involved in the work of the Spirit. Mary is announced and Elizabeth’s baby jumps in her womb. Elizabeth touches and Mary is filled with songs about salvation!
Here’s the important part, though. Everything she sings points back to what God has done is doing and will do. Sure, people will call her blessed, but this is about God fulfilling God’s promises, even through her. The word used to describe Mary her is “Theotokos,” the mother of God. In her book, The Godbearing Life, Kinda Creasy Dean suggests that all of us, from this point forward, have become people who bear Christ into the world.
All of us are pregnant with the potential of bearing Christ into the world through our actions, in our devotion, and in the song we sing through the lives we live! I mentioned to you earlier about the work of the Spirit. That’s a big deal in Luke’s gospel. Over and over we see how God has taken the initiative to set course in motion to move toward the cross and the resurrection and the outpouring of God’s Holy Spirit!
That’s where you come in. We live in the time of the presence of God! We live in the echo of Mary’s song. The question for us is not whether or not we will sing, but how. How will we sing about God’s salvation and mercy? How will we tell the nations about God’s presence and peace? Well, I can give you some hints. Our Living Waters Partnership in Cuba is one. Our work in the community through meals on wheels, support of the Wesley United Campus Ministry, and our work in the Presbytery and throughout the world through the PC(USA) are just a few bars in the song we sing together.
Sure, we each have our own song to sing, but there is so much more than we can sing together than we can sing while we are apart. In many ways, we are looking at the coming year like children staring at presents under a tree, and I’m reminded of a line from a song by David LaMonte about a person who was stuck because she couldn’t decide what to do. He sang, “My mother and my brother used to laugh at me because I like my presents best when they’re underneath the tree and I can still dream about what each one might be.”
Dreaming is good, and we need to sing about what we expect and hope for. We also need to recognize the reason we are here. I’d like to share with you the words of Sarah Are, in her poem Draw Near To One Another, to explain what I mean.
When Adam saw Eve,
the first thing he said was, “At Last.”
And when I fell in love,
God became real faster than I could imagine.
the first thing he said was, “At Last.”
And when I fell in love,
God became real faster than I could imagine.
When my brother was born,
I learned the size of my heart.
And when my mom held my hand,
I knew the love that willed that heart to start.
I learned the size of my heart.
And when my mom held my hand,
I knew the love that willed that heart to start.
And without them,
how would I know love?
Without others, how would I learn grace or music, confidence or trust?
how would I know love?
Without others, how would I learn grace or music, confidence or trust?
And without the sun,
how could the earth grow life?
how could the earth grow life?
And without you,
how could I know God with green eyes, God with brown skin,
God with wrinkles,
God within.
how could I know God with green eyes, God with brown skin,
God with wrinkles,
God within.
So I have come to believe—
we belong to one another.
Families and friends, neighbors and strangers— We belong to one another.
we belong to one another.
Families and friends, neighbors and strangers— We belong to one another.
And I have come to see
the space between you and me
as nothing short of holy ground.
So take off your shoes and draw near. Together is where God is found.
the space between you and me
as nothing short of holy ground.
So take off your shoes and draw near. Together is where God is found.
When I first got here I remember being asked what my vision for this church might be, and I resisted answering that question. I’ve always felt that God’s movement between us is always different than my expectation of it, so I’ve always answered, “to be faithful to God’s promises.” A few years later I realized that there is a second part that comes with that, and that is to be bears of life.
On the Holy Ground that is between us, whether in this place or somewhere else, let us be faithful to what God has done, what God is doing, and what God will do. Let us bear the truth of salvation, and let us give glory to God in all we say and do. Amen!
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