Sermon preached by Anne M. Watkins

St. Paul’s on the Green, Norwalk, Connecticut

Feast of St. Mary the Virgin, August 15, 2004

In the name of God, who chose a poor, unlikely young virgin to bear Himself into the world, in the name of Jesus, God with us, descending from on high to take on human nature and form, in the name of the Holy Spirit, who blessed Mary’s life and continues to bless ours. Amen.

Today, we celebrate the Feast Day of St. Mary - and we remember Mary in our liturgical year not once, as we do most of the Saints, not even twice, but three times. She is known by many names: the Mother of Jesus, the First among all the Saints, the Mother of God, the Queen of Heaven and Earth, Our Lady, the Mother of the Church. There is so much that could be said of her that it is a little bit overwhelming to know where to begin. She is an extraordinary and overwhelming figure. As I said, today is but one of three times we take special notice of Mary, honoring her intentionally. The first being the Feast of the Annunciation - when the Angel Gabriel brings her the news that she will bear the Son of God into the world. Next, the Feast of the Visitation, when Mary travels to see her relative Elizabeth and where the Magnificat - this Song of Praise we heard today -is also a central part of the Gospel. Elizabeth recognizes her as one truly blessed by God; something Mary has also realized and which she expresses. And remember that Elizabeth has also been greatly blessed; with an unexpected, miraculous pregnancy, but she realizes that Mary, this younger woman, lowliest of the low in their society, has been even shown even greater favor. Both Elizabeth and the babe in her womb, John the Baptist recognize Mary, because of who she bears within her womb and because of her own being. And finally this Feast Day, commemorating what is called the Assumption in the Roman Church or the Dormition in the Eastern Church - that day when Mary passes from life on earth to life in heaven, taken up body and soul together; ascending to be reunited with her Son, Jesus the Christ. This special favor - ascension, not totally dissimilar to our Lord’s - a special favor not afforded to any other Saint, but reserved for special woman.

So yes, there is much that can be said of Mary; much that is overwhelming. But as with any of the Saints, it seems to me that the miracle and mystery of her death and assumption into heaven is not what makes Mary an example for us to honor. Rather, it is in the example of how she lived and the mystery and fruits of faith she reveals through how she lived.

There are a couple of things I particularly notice when I hear Mary’s voice singing this Magnificat. Certainly, one is Mary’s recitation of all the God is doing and will do through the child she carries. Once again, we witness God’s intention to turn conventional mores and values on their head. She praises a God who is concerned with the poor, who raises up the lowly, not a God showing preference for the proud or rich. She rejoices in a God who does not focus on the power of the mighty; indeed, the proud, the rich and the mighty would do well to look upon this God with some real trepidation! But, she praises a God who focuses on mercy and compassion.

What draws me the most, though, are not the majority of verses in this Magnificat. What draws me is the tiny first phrase. “My soul magnifies the Lord.” It is the one time that Mary speaks of herself in a way that conveys some of her own power. She has indeed been blessed. She knows it, Elizabeth knows it, the fetus, John the Baptist, still being formed in Elizabeth’s womb knows it. But Mary’s “yes”; her willingness to believe in God’s promise and God’s blessing is a blessing in return. Mary, in giving consent to that blessing, is an equal part of the equation. Her “yes - let it be as you have said” magnifies God …enlarges God. God’s blessing on her life only happens if she consents to let it happen.

We would do well today and in the days to come to pause and notice the myriad of ways God is blessing our lives. We would do well to understand that blessing us is what God wants to do and what God wants for us - that we might live lives filled with meaning; blessed, worthwhile lives. Because in living those lives, we magnify God for the world that very much needs to see Him. And so, of all the names that Mary might be given, it is Mother of the Church that is appealing to me right now. She is the example for what the Church must be - a partner with God, willing to say “yes, I am being blessed; we are being blessed and we will stand up as partners with God so that that blessing is seen by all. When we do that; when the Church has done that, we do indeed magnify God making His presence ever more noticeable and effective. Like Mary, we bear Christ into the world - taking God’s blessing, consenting to it and becoming a blessing in return.

There is an irony here, though, that I think we need to note. Mother Louise and I were talking briefly about it before last night’s evening Eucharist. The irony is this: the Church has long given its assent to the blessing of Mary - we have honored and exalted and revered her, recognized and celebrated her as the First among all the Saints for thousands of years. And it is fitting that we should do so. Think about who she really is and all that she really did. It is Mary whose life and blood mingled with Jesus’ in birth; Mary who held him in her arms and nourished his body with her milk; Mary who helped him take his first steps, taught him the ancient stories at her knee, picked him up, wiped his tears, cleaned his cuts, when he fell and scraped his knees, as certainly a little boy must have done. It was Mary who shared his joy as he discovered the world around him, and then was the first, or at least among the first, to hear his insights and teaching about the Kingdom of God. Mary, a lowly woman has done all that. And yet for thousand of year’s the Church struggled - still struggles - to legitimize the place of women as full and equal partners in God’s blessings. We still struggle for the place of women at the altar, for their place in the Church, in the world, in business, in all those places traditionally dominated by men. We struggle to live into Mary’s understanding of God’s promise - that the lowly, whoever the world considers to be lowly, have been shown favor by God.

The struggle is not easy; living blessed lives is not easy. Let’s make no mistake here. The life of blessing to which God calls us is seldom comfortable. For all its blessings, Mary’s life did not become easier. She did not birth her baby in a beautiful, well-lighted, antiseptic hospital room with a staff of nurses and doctors helping her along the way, offering her ice chips, rubbing her back, covering her with warm blankets. She birthed her baby in a dark, smelly stable. And as the child grew, I suspect Jesus wasn’t the perfect child, making the grade, winning all the awards in school, earning the sports letter and breaking world records. He lagged behind in the Temple, neglecting to tell her where he was or what he was doing, causing she and her husband, Joseph, great alarm over his disappearance. He challenged learned rabbis and scholars; he did not follow the rules or join the established structures and power echelons of the day. Instead, she found herself watching - probably with increasing anxiety - as he stirred up more and more controversy. And the natural order was not followed. Mary watched her child as he was crucified - dying a painful and shameful death.

No, God does not call us to easy lives. God calls us to lives that matter; blessed lives; lives worth living. And God has called others - some known only to you - willing to follow Mary’s example of consent; others who lived uneasy, but blessed lives. Some are more widely known. Mother Teresa, for example, called to pick up dying people from the streets of India and give them a decent place to die - and sometimes a decent place to live. Lorince Taylor, who upon finding that prostitutes in Monrovia, Liberia had no other way to make a living taught them sewing and secretarial skills. Albert Schweitzer, a physician and concert organist, living a glamorous life in Paris, called and blessed by God to leave it all behind for Africa where he started a medical clinic for people who otherwise would have no health care; his first hospital a converted chicken coop, an old cot his first operating table. When Schweitzer later visited the United States, he was asked by a reporter if he had found happiness in Africa. His reply was this: “I have found a place of service, and that is enough happiness for anyone.”

Jesus taught his disciples that to be first meant to be last, to be exalted meant to humble oneself and take on the role of servant. Mary understood that from the first; she gave consent to being God’s servant. We, like Mary, bear that servanthood into the world in our time. We, like Mary, enlarge God - magnify the Lord - when we recognize and give consent to the blessings he is bestowing upon us - to the blessed lives he calls us to live.

There is great promise in our lives; not the least of which is commemorated on this Feast Day. For we, like Mary, taken into heaven to be reunited with her Son in everlasting life, look forward to the same end … reunited with our brother, Jesus … with Mary, who is our mother, too. But first, the question we are to ask is this: Where am I being called to bear Christ?” Where is God blessing me, waiting simply for me to say, “Yes, I will. For in my assent, my soul magnifies the Lord.”