December 14 Luke 1:44-55

Scripture: Luke 1:44-55

            Over the years, I’ve served many people from all walks of life and have noticed that people who struggle in their daily lives have a profoundly deep trust in God. I’ve heard it in the language they use when they talk about God. They speak with absolute conviction that God will deliver them.

            In October a few of us met on Saturday morning to learn about lay worship. Four people from Second Congregational Church in Pittsfield joined us. Second is the Berkshire Association’s only Black congregation. Its membership tends to be less economically well off than our other UCC congregations.

            During our work together, we had very rich conversations. I was struck by the faith language they used as they expressed a notably more profound implicit trust and reliance upon God than I’ve heard in other congregations I’ve served.

            The expressions of deep abiding trust in God that morning were consistent with the words Mary spoke. She had absolute faith that God would deliver her salvation.

            Realistically, though, Mary did not say or sing these words. Luke inserted this canticle, a song other than a psalm. Its form was a Jewish poem referencing Hebrew scripture, including some psalms and most notably, Hannah’s prayer in 1 Samuel 2:1b-10. Its sophisticated grammatical structure indicated an intentional construction rather than a spontaneous outburst. The grammatical structure touched on the past, present, and future, thus rendering it timeless using a Greek verb tense, known as aorist.

            Although the aorist tense has several forms, distilled to its essence, an aorist tense denotes a simple past action. If Mary said, “for he looked with favor on the lowly state of his servant,” it would convey a different meaning than “for he has looked with favor on the lowly state of his servant.” The former implies that God looked at Mary with favor at one time. The latter implies that God looked at Mary and continues to look at Mary with favor. The aorist tense, then, is not time limited.

            The Magnificat is the gospel in miniature. In the social construct of First century Palestine, Mary was among the lowest of the low. A pregnant, unwed, young woman, probably between the age of 13 and 16, was an anawim, meaning a humble and likely an impoverished person regardless of gender. The anawim trusted God for their deliverance. God chose her to bear his son, thus setting up the ongoing clash between the anawim and those who had power, wealth, prestige, and authority, which figured prominently in the gospels. God was her salvation.

            This canticle opened with Mary referencing herself:

"My soul magnifies the Lord,

        and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

for he has looked with favor on the lowly state of his servant.

        Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed,

for the Mighty One has done great things for me,

        and holy is his name;

            Then, the shift. The canticle broadened with Mary seeking mercy for those who fear the Almighty, and not only in the present moment, but in the future as well:

indeed, his mercy is for those who fear him

        from generation to generation.

            Then, a series of aorist tenses:

He has shown strength with his arm;

        he has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.

He has brought down the powerful from their thrones

        and has lifted up the lowly;

he has filled the hungry with good things

        and has sent the rich away empty.

            God, then, did and is doing these things, making no distinction between past and present. Coupled with Mary’s call for mercy for those who fear God from generation to generation, she did not limit that call to the First century. It was for an indeterminate time, which would include today.

            Finally, the canticle ends with a plea for the children of Israel, again noting the aorist tense,

He has come to the aid of his child Israel,

        in remembrance of his mercy,

according to the promise he made to our ancestors,

        to Abraham and to his descendants forever."

            This was a song of liberation, a manifesto in which an anawim called out the injustice inherent to the Empire’s economic structure with its extractive taxes taken from the anawim to pass that revenue up the economic ladder to enrich the people in power and authority instead of using the taxes to secure the lives of the anawim. This was a song to condemn peace maintained through fear with instruments of violence and destruction. This was a song of liberation for all people in First century Palestine. This was a song expressing not just hope, but faith that God would deliver the anawim from their lowliness. God would overturn the political and economic structure of the Empire. The powerful will fall as the lowly will rise. The anawim will receive their share. The rich, however, will receive nothing more because they had enough. God’s preference for the anawim over the rich and powerful would be undisputed.

            Though almost 2000 years old, the Magnificat’s implicit faith and trust in God’s deliverance is consistent with the faith language I have heard expressed by today’s anawim, people who struggle in their daily lives. A sociologist, Susan Crawford Sullivan, affirmed this in her book entitled Living Faith: Everyday Religion and Mothers in Poverty.

            She studied a diverse group of impoverished women. In a Christian Century interview Sullivan said, “Most of the women identified themselves as having no religion, yet 80 percent of those still said that religion was important in their lives. Most women offered theological explanations for the things that happened in their lives. A woman might say that she became homeless as a part of God’s plan, because now she was going to get better housing through the shelter than she could have on her own. One woman told me that her homelessness was part of God’s plan because now she had more opportunities to share her faith, including sharing it with me. They framed suffering in terms of character development.” [1]

            The women saw the church as place where their children could get a framework to navigate life’s hardships and re-enforce the lessons they were trying to teach their children. Yet, they also did not go to church themselves because they felt they didn’t belong. They felt stigmatized and unwanted, whether it was not having “nice clothes” or their past, which might include incarceration or drug use.

Sullivan also noted that though the women were reticent about church participation, churches did not undertake a vigorous effort to reach out to them either. She told of a pastor who educated her congregation in hospitality. Sullivan said in the interview, “She told about inviting some mothers from a nearby shelter to come to her church for a mothers’ gathering of some kind. When they came, no one was unfriendly, but people just didn’t know how to engage the visitors. She said, ‘I don’t think those women will ever come back. I can’t tell people: Come, you will feel welcome.’”

            What about Mary or anyone today who believes as she did, how will God deliver them? As disciples of Jesus who have the Holy Spirit, the third person of the Trinity in us, that is up to us. We are God’s hands and feet. We are God’s instruments of peace, shalom, the wholeness of life. How do we make God’s salvation real to people who look to God and look to the church for what it stands, but not for who it is?

            The time we spent with our brothers and sisters from Second showed us a possibility. Maybe a caravan from here to there to spend time and listen to one another through story sharing or Bible study. Or maybe doing something similar here in north county by being with the anawim among us. Who knows? We might hear a different expression of the Magnificat.

[1] https://www.christiancentury.org/article/2013-05/poor-and-unwanted