1 Samuel 2:1-10; Isaiah 35:1-10; Luke 1:46b-55
Like most of you, I have many favorite pieces of music. The Holden
Evening Prayer [Marty Haugen] version of Mary’s Song, otherwise known as
the Magnificat, is one of those at the top. I am so glad we got to sing it
today.
This lyric has Mary proclaiming God’s praise with her whole
being. That’s what soul means – the whole being. With her whole being, Mary
envisions the world – the kosmos – as it will become, now that Emmanuel is
coming. She doesn’t say, one day this will happen – as some young girls dream
that “One day, my prince will come.” Mary says, it is happening right now! Mary
is so filled with excitement she can’t help but sing.
The whole world order is changing before her eyes. Wealthy
people are now bankrupt. The prince some girls dream of is being toppled from
his throne. There is plenty of everything for everyone. Poverty is gone. Hunger
is no more. Power is shared, justice reigns for all people, and the poorest
people are proud to be who they are. Most of all, God’s love is known and felt
everywhere.
Now, I suspect that Mary didn’t make up the song in the
moment. We can’t be sure it was even she that created it. Perhaps it was the
author of Luke. The song Mary sings is based on several Hebrew Bible texts, including
the Isaiah passage that is the First Reading for today. Her song is also
similar to Hannah’s song.
Hannah was a woman who couldn’t have children, but she
longed for one. She prayed with her whole being for a child. Finally, her
prayers were answered with the birth of Samuel. When the boy was weaned – perhaps
at age 5 -- she left the boy at the temple with Eli the priest, and envisioned similar
reversals of the social order in her song.
Whether Mary wrote her song, or Luke did 70 years later
doesn’t matter. Mary and Joseph were chosen by God to be the earthly parents of
Jesus because they had a vison of the future that matched God’s vision. They
were faithful people who were ready to challenge the status quo and raise a
child with that same vision. Still, just imagine what Jesus’ childhood was
like, if Mary sang this song to him every night at bedtime!
… I pass the time in the car between home and here listening
to books. Right now, I am listening to The Good Left Undone, by Adriana
Trigiani. Yesterday on the way home, the book gave a wonderful example of doing
something with one’s whole being.
I was surprised to learn that the British people had rounded
up foreign people and sent them to internment camps the way the US did with
Japanese folks. Churchill ordered that all Germans, Italians, Fascists, and
Nazis needed to be interred in camps to keep the larger population safe.
The Italians were hated and mistrusted in the same way that
people from Central America and Mexico are mistrusted in the US today. So, it didn’t
surprise the British Italians when warrants for their arrest started appearing.
They decided to go peaceably, cooperatively, packing a suitcase for a few days
away, until they could be evaluated as safe, and sent back home.
In one such family, Maria insisted that Frank take a whole
loaf of bread. “You never know who will have forgotten to pack some, and you
can share.” In the same group of Italian detainees was a priest. Their
temporary home was a vacant factory, now home to 3,000 men.
Some men cleaned the floor, making room for this large number
of people. A chef looked for the kitchen, which didn’t exist. Father Joe had
been allowed to bring a set of communion ware, and decided that what the men
needed was a mass. So, he began to lead the service. But he realized he had no
wafers to offer them. The men were prepared to receive the blessing without the
bread, a spiritual communion.
Frank opened his suitcase and took out the loaf of bread Maria
had put in there. He passed it to the man in front of him, who passed it forward,
and so on until the loaf reached the priest. The bread was consecrated, then
shared. Frank was the last person to receive, and it was barely a crumb placed on
his tongue. …
The story made me cry, it moved me so much. From the way
they humbly packed and allowed themselves to be arrested, to Maria insisting on
packing a whole loaf of bread, to the pastoral care offered by Father Joe in leading
a mass, to Frank offering the bread for the mass, everyone showed the
willingness to offer all they had to each other. They shared themselves, their
souls, with each other.
… So, I wonder, when have you shared yourself with others? I
know some of your stories, and I know some of you do this often. For others, it
may be difficult to make yourselves so available. Or maybe you don’t see it as
sharing your soul.
Let’s look at it this way. What excites you? Are you willing
to share those things that you are passionate about? It doesn’t have to be
God-things. It can be whatever turns your heart to beating so hard you want to
share it.
For example, in four weeks, we have had three funerals or
memorial services. The Hospitality Team has outdone themselves in offering what
the families needed.
Yesterday, we heard about how Gene had a love of fishing so
great he created custom rods and reels, and how he invited his son Ben to share
his passion for cars.
Sharing your soul doesn’t need to be a “churchy” thing. It
just needs to be your whole self that you share. Because, when we share ourselves,
Jesus comes along for the ride.
This week, as we continue to wait for Jesus to come, as we
shop and decorate and wrap and ship and cook and bake, remember that one reason
we do all this is because Jesus shared his own soul with us. And Mary has
taught us why it matters. Amen
