St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD
December 22, 2024
Year C: The Fourth Sunday of Advent
Micah 5:2-5a
Psalm 80:1-7
Hebrews 10:5-10
Luke 1:39-55
Women of Hope
So, a question: how many of you have a lot on your mind?
Yes, that’s what I thought.
I’m glad I’m not the only one!
There’s all the preparation for Christmas, of course, trying to come up with good gift ideas, trying to find the time and energy to purchase those gifts and make sure everything is ready for the holiday.
And there’s all the preparation for Christmas here at church.
So many faithful, creative, and dedicated people – parishioners and staff – have been hard at work, creating bulletins, rehearsing music, preparing the children for their “tableau plus,” planning for the greening of our beautiful church later today, and so much more.
And, amid all that joyful preparation, the sufferings of our community, our land, and the world have been on my mind, too.
I think of our parishioners facing what’s meant to be a joyful holiday without a loved one, or while enduring illness, while fearing the future.
I think of the teachers, students, and families at a school in Wisconsin with the now heartbreaking name of “Abundant Life” – an infuriatingly familiar story that has already faded from the headlines (have you noticed that?) but not from the hearts of parents who have to send their kids to school each day.
And the other day, as I was driving around, I listened to a radio program about just one child, a little girl, in Gaza – how she had lost so much – lost loved ones, lost her home.
Thinking about her suffering and the suffering of countless people in Gaza and Israel, Ukraine and Syria, and so many places around the world.
And, of course, together, we look ahead to an uncertain new year.
So, yes, like you, I’ve had a lot on mind.
And I’ve been searching – searching for distractions, searching for good news.
And, most of all, I’ve been searching for hope.
For the past two Advent Sundays, we’ve been reflecting on John the Baptist.
I made the smart decision to, ahem, “outsource” those two Sundays to Amelia and Sue.
So, we had the gift of hearing our two wonderful interns reflect thoughtfully and beautifully on that powerful and challenging prophet – John the Baptist – John the Baptist, who prepared the way of the Lord, calling people to be baptized and change their ways – to repent - before it’s too late.
And now today, on the Fourth and final Sunday of Advent, at last we turn our attention to the other main character of this holy season, the Virgin Mary.
This year we don’t hear the story of the Annunciation – the story of the Angel Gabriel appearing without warning to Mary – Mary, a young peasant woman from Galilee, from the countryside – Mary, a seemingly unimportant person from a poor and insignificant place – a place under Roman rule, a place that knew all about fear, suffering, and loss.
The angel appears to Mary with the earthshaking news that she has found favor with God, so much favor that she – in the eyes of the world a nobody – she has been chosen to carry the Son of the Most High God into the world.
We’re not told what thoughts must have raced through Mary’s mind in this moment, but we can imagine.
Maybe she briefly considered telling the angel that God got it wrong and should choose someone else for this monumental task, maybe that nice young woman who lived across the road.
Maybe Mary quickly began calculating the cost of saying “yes” to God, began considering the uncertainties and dangers ahead.
How to explain this pregnancy to her fiancée, Joseph?
How to explain this pregnancy to her family?
What will the neighbors think? In a small town, everyone’s going to talk.
And, as a faithful Jewish woman, she would have known the stories of the prophets. She would have known that there would be a high cost to saying “yes” to God – a high cost for her and an even higher cost for her child.
But, despite all of that, Mary says, “yes.”
Mary says “yes” to God.
Mary says “yes” to hope.
And that’s where we pick up in today’s gospel lesson.
After receiving this most extraordinary news, after giving her most hopeful “yes,” Mary does a very human thing.
She visits family.
All by herself, apparently, Mary travels to her relative Elizabeth, who is in the middle of her own miraculous pregnancy.
In her “old age,” Elizabeth is carrying John the Baptist – John, who doesn’t get a speaking part today, but he’s already on the move, leaping for joy in his mother’s womb at the presence of the Son of God and his mother.
And then, Mary does another, most human thing.
She sings.
Mary sings a song of hope.
Mary sings about her own blessedness.
And Mary sings about the powerful acts of God - God who has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly – God who has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty.
Mary, woman of hope, sings about the powerful acts of God.
Mary sings about what God has done in the past.
Mary sings about what she knows God will do again, in and through her son.
Mary knows that hope is not so much a feeling, but an action.
Mary, woman of hope, has acted – saying “yes” to God, doing her part in the downside-up revolution that is now underway.
Mary – and Elizabeth, too – were women of hope.
So, like you, lately I’ve had a lot on my mind.
But also like you, I’ve also been blessed by some women of hope – not only Mary and Elizabeth – but women of hope in our own time and place.
As I mentioned to some of you last week, I’ve attended a lot of church services in my day. But I can’t remember a service that was more joyful and more hopeful than the ordinations last Saturday at the Cathedral.
The place was packed with people of all ages but with a noticeable number of younger people.
There was a buzzing excitement.
And as I watched Amelia and the four others stand before the bishop and all of us and make some very big promises, I was in awe of their faithfulness and courage.
You know, in the old days, in the boom years of the middle part of the last century when new churches were being built all over the place, when most everybody attended church, when Sunday School classrooms were packed, back in those days, being an ordained person in the Episcopal Church may not have been easy but it was secure – there was a lot of job security.
It’s not like that now – and so it takes more faith, more courage, more hope, to sign on for this work than it did even when I was ordained 17 years ago.
So, it was deeply moving to see Amelia and the others stand before God and us and say “yes.”
Hope is not so much a feeling, but an action.
And Amelia our deacon is a woman of hope.
And then, if you were here last Sunday, I bet you’ve been thinking all week about Sue’s beautiful, challenging, and deeply vulnerable sermon.
I had read a draft of Sue’s sermon a few days earlier, so I had a good idea of what she was going to say, but I still wasn’t prepared for the power of seeing and hearing her stand up here in front of all of us, people she’s only known for a few months, and speak about the worst thing, and speak about it with raw honesty and deep faith, connecting her suffering to the Gospel message of hope.
Hope is not so much a feeling, but an action.
And Sue, our ministry intern, still in the early days of discerning her vocation, is a woman of hope.
In a hard time, long ago, Mary and Elizabeth both said “yes” to God.
Knowing that the future would be difficult for them and for their sons, they still placed their trust in God, choosing to be women of hope.
In our own hard time, as we complete our Christmas preparations, let’s all say “yes” to God.
Let’s all say “yes” to the God who, in and through Jesus, turns the world downside-up.
With God’s help, in this time and place, let’s be people of hope.
Amen.
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