Dec. 20 sermon by Michelle

What is stirring inside you?

For years, I believed that Mary sang the Magnificat during the visit of the angel Gabriel. I think I got that impression from a children's Bible somewhere. The angel Gabriel visits Mary, and gives her the news that she will conceive and bear Jesus, and he will be called great, and the son of the Most High. And, she instantly says yes, and begins to sing of the wonders of God. At least, that's what I thought.

That's not accurate, though. As we heard this morning, Mary waits. She hears the news. She accepts it. And then - she goes off, on a journey.

Presumably, she has told noone about her heavenly visitor, or her great mission. We don't know if she travelled alone to Elizabeth's home - it would be highly unlikely, given the hazards of travel. Mary walked eighty miles to see her relative. Presumably, this gave her lots of time to think. To think about the implications: having your first child is anxiety-provoking, even in the best of circumstances. Giving birth at a tender age is risky. Being pregnant and being engaged - those are major turning points in a young life. It marks a transition - leaving girlhood behind, starting a new family, a new set of priorities. There were things to mourn - leaving her family. And things to expect.

What things to expect! She pondered the promise of the angel as she walked. Her child would be son of the Most High. Her child would be powerful, famous. Her child would save the people of God. What could it all mean? Could it all be true? Was it maybe a dream, a hallucination? What of the danger of being pregnant? And, what would Joseph think when she told him?

There's a lot that can go through a mind on an eighty-mile walk.

And then she arrives. And before she can even walk through the door, Elizabeth greets her with the miraculous insight. Not only does she know that Mary is expecting - let's not forget that Mary is probably only a month or two along at this point. She knows what Mary is expecting. She knows that Mary is expecting the one that everyone is expecting - the Lord. At the sound of Mary's greeting, Elizabeth's baby stirs inside her. And a wonderful affirmation leaves her mouth.

Those words of encouragement, then, those prompt Mary's song. Mary's song has probably been stirring inside her for some time. She had probably been pondering them for much of her journey. But it took the affirmation of Elizabeth to override her doubts and fears, to give her the courage to sing her own song.

Today, in the news, we often hear of the people who believe they are "spiritual but not religious." Often, they find religious communities - churches, synagogues, and so on - restrictive or limiting. There are rules, they say, and expectations. God doesn't do rules.

But, Gospel stories like this make me wonder if those spiritual people might not be depriving themselves of something, something important and wonderful and holy. Because one of the things that jumps out at me from today's Gospel is the importance of community, to help encourage whatever is stirring inside you.

We've done a lot at St. Paul's, to encourage people to listen for God. We've had a video series - which will conclude this Sunday - to help us understand the true meaning of Advent. We've had a contemplative Taizé service, to give us the space to listen for God, like Mary on her journey. We held a Quiet Day, and a Wednesday night series to encourage us to contemplate the meaning of Advent in our hearts, and to share our hopes and visions with others. But, what I've learned is that too often, we're afraid to reach out, we don't get the affirmation of community. The fact is, each of us has something to offer. Each of us is a valuable member of our community. And, just as Mary's visit stirred something in Elizabeth, and Elizabeth's affirmation prompted Mary to share her wonderful song - so our working together as a community can stir and provoke something beautiful. Many of you know that we built our stewardship campaign around the them of "connect." But it's not just a fundraising mantra. Connection - real, personal connection - is one of the most valuable things a worshipping community can offer, as witnessed by the interaction of Mary and Elizabeth.

So, I'm going to pause, and do a little demonstration. My guess is that each of you probably came here with your own set of mental preoccupations: hopes, dreams, but also unpleasant fears and stresses. I get it.

Now, I'm going to ask you to look at the person in the pew in front of you, and the person in the pew behind you. I'm going to ask you to greet each of those people, those members of your parish community. And to affirm something about them. Maybe its something as simple as "I appreciate hearing you sing the hymns, it gives me confidence." It might be something more personal, like "I never got a chance to thank you for the card you sent." Or even more personal, like "I'm new, and I want to thank you for helping me find the right page in the prayer book."

The fact is, we are a community, and so I will begin by telling you that we wouldn't be a community if each and every one of you weren't here right now. So I thank you for coming today. But now, go on, turn around, and greet the person in the pew behind you. And the person in the pew ahead of you.

Pause.

So, what is stirring inside you now?

If you read through Mary's song, the Magnificat, you will find that it is revolutionary in its way. I think we lose sight of that sometimes, between the beautiful words and the fact that we hear it so often. She begins so meekly, "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices." So we are lulled into a false sense of security when she gets to the radical reminders - God brings down the powerful from their thrones, and sends the rich away empty. These are the words of radical justice, of dismantling oppression. They are, in short, the words of revolution.

My guess is that all of us, at some point, have yearned for this kind of justice. We look at the world, and we see something that is not quite right. But, we are weighed down with our own doubts and fears. Like Mary, we ponder many beautiful possibilities, but we don't utter them. Until we know we are safe. Until someone greets us, and tells us we have an important role to play. And then we can respond.

This Advent, we have been bombarded with news of injustice in the world, and pain. And, it is too easy for us to say, "I am but one individual. What can I do?" It is too easy for us to say, "God came straight to Mary, and we celebrate Mary's yes." But the fact is, Mary didn't do it alone. Mary had Elizabeth. Mary had Joseph. Mary had countless untold people who sustained her and the dreams and hopes stirring inside her. Just as her hope sustained others.

This Advent, we celebrate hope and expectation. Let's not store those up, and hide them away in fear, as Mary did on her journey. Rather, let us be like Elizabeth, and join together to proclaim that God does marvelous things, and blessed are we who believe that there will be a fulfillment of God's promises. And, let respond like Mary, proclaiming our faith, and sharing our hope for a world without fear or want, in which the lowly are lifted up, and the poor are filled with good things.

There are a million ways we can share God's love with others, this day and all days. There are a million ways we can lift the lowly, or change the world. So listen, and share what is stirring inside you.