Mary: Beyond the Manger
First Congregational Church of Wauwatosa, Wisconsin
Second Sunday of Advent
~ December 4, 2005
Rev. Steven A. Peay, Ph.D.
[Texts:
Romans 16:25-27/Luke 1:26-38]
“For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed…” The cover story in the March 21st issue of Time magazine was devoted to Mary, the mother of Jesus and why those words from her magnificat, her song of praise, have not been true for a large segment of Christianity since the Reformation. The article quotes popular spiritual writer, and Presbyterian layperson, Kathleen Norris who said, “We dragged Mary out at Christmas . . . and . . . packed her safely in the crèche box for the rest of the year. We . . . denied (her) place in Christian tradition and were disdainful of the reverence displayed for her, so public and emotional, by Catholics.” Her experience, I would venture to say, fits that of most folks in this church when it comes to “Mother Mary,” as my own Free Methodist mother used to call her, but that seems to be changing. John Buchanan, who occupies the prestigious pulpit of Chicago’s Fourth Presbyterian Church and is editor of The Christian Century, preached to his people: “We’re inclined, you and I, to think about our faith in terms of ideas and propositions and truth claims. [Yet] Mary reminds us that our faith is a response to a love that was expressed not in a carefully reasoned treatise, but in a human life.” Buchanan went on to say that Mary is “a reminder to the mother whose son was killed in Iraq last week . . . [to] children and wives and husbands who wait in fear and in hope. Let her be a reminder of the mercy and compassion and nearness of God.” What we hear in that is a call to see Mary as a paradigm of faithful life, Mary beyond the manger.
Paradigm. An interesting word; a word once used primarily in academic circles now dropping all over the place. Paradigm ]] what is it? I remember trying to introduce the concept to my students at the seminary; asking, innocently, "What are paradigms?" To which a wag responded, "Twenty cents!" His concept of 'pair' was not far off, however. The word comes from the Greek for "to show side]by]side" and means “example or pattern: especially an outstandingly clear or typical example or archetype."
Twenty or more years ago an historian and philosopher of science, Thomas Kuhn, published a book on paradigms and their 'shifts' that shocked the scientific world, changing its very self]concept. Kuhn argued that modern science is not the result of a slow, steady evolutionary process from one theory and theorist to the next. Rather, modern science is the result of a series of revolutions, with one paradigm taking the place of another, often in the face of great resistance. The book, The Structures of Scientific Revolutions, has also changed the way many other disciplines think about themselves as well.
The notion of the paradigm ]] the best case example ]] is not new to the theological world. Nor, is the concept of revolution. Over the centuries Christian doctrine has also developed as one paradigm has given way to another. A classic example is the shift that occurred in Western Christianity that resulted in what we now call 'the Reformation.' We can see paradigm shifts in the Bible, as well. I think we will soon discover that our God is a God of surprise, one who does things in ways we least expect, by means which don't fit our paradigms.
That God works in unexpected ways is certainly clear from the people through whom he has worked. Think about it. None of the 'great people' of the Bible started out as great. Abraham was an idol maker somewhere in Mesopotamia. Moses was a fugitive. And the paradigm of kingship, David, was a little shepherd boy. But what a shepherd boy!
David was the "man after God's own heart." A man who could charm and cajole, who could fight, who could rule, who could worship. Some have described him as "God's rascal." Whatever he was, he was used to getting his own way. When he decided that the God who had lived among his people in a tent, moved with them in their nomadic ways, should start to live in a house like David did, God's prophet Nathan said: "Do it." God, though, had other ideas and sent Nathan packing back to David to say, "You're not going to build me a house, little man. I'm going to build you a house, a kingly dynasty." In that moment the role of the Messiah, the coming savior, would be forever linked to David and his line.
David wanted to build, but he heard the word of the Lord and obeyed it. As a result, God kept his promise and established his throne forever, but not in the way David or the people of Israel expected. At a time when it seemed God would not keep his promise, especially in the face of the Roman conquerors, the God who had dwelt among his people in a tent "pitched his tent" in a most unlikely way. He became one of us. Thus, John would write, "the Word became flesh and dwelt [the Greek here literally means "to pitch a tent"] among us." God shifted the paradigm of how he would relate to us making plain, as Paul says, "the mystery which was kept secret for long ages but is now disclosed . . . made known to all nations."
When he chose to "pitch his tent" in taking our flesh he did so not through someone highborn or exalted. She wasn't even from the right tribe; she was a Levite betrothed to a man of the house of David. Yet, as the angel Gabriel said, she had found favor in God's sight and it would be she who gave birth to the child who fulfilled the promise made to David. All she had to do was say: yes.
She did. Her response to God's messenger, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done unto me according to your word" now amplify and define the paradigm for what a Christian disciple is. Mary is the paradigm of the true disciple. Let me explain.
In all three of the synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) Jesus is shown teaching when he's told, "Your mother and brothers are here." He asks, "Who is my mother and brother? The one who hears the Word of God and keeps it is mother and brother to me!" In several other places he lays out that same pattern of what constitutes discipleship: to hear the word of God and to keep it. Yet, think of what Mary has done. She heard the word and kept it, as Luke says "in her heart." When we consider, too, that the disciple is to point to the master she accomplishes that as well. At Cana she tells the servants, "Do whatever he tells you." She is there at the foot of the cross. And she is there on the day of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit gives birth to the Church.
The early church understood Mary's place as an example of discipleship. Augustine, more than once, points out that "she conceived the Lord in her heart, before she conceived him in her womb." The emphasis is not on her motherhood, but her faith. It is in the loving act of union through faith in God that Christ is conceived and, as the song says, "love came down at Christmas."
During the medieval period Mary's role in the history of salvation got confused with all sorts of other influences. For example, the courtly love tradition which developed during that time raised her to be 'the Madonna,' (my lady) making her an object of veneration and leaving the door open to calling her 'co]redemptrix' (co]redeemer with Christ). Slowly but surely, she went from being the humble disciple to almost godlike status ]] all because Jesus was perceived as unapproachable, he was no longer the good shepherd, but the judge seated on the rainbow. Mary became the approachable one and the people, and their preachers, thought that one got to Jesus through his mother. In other words, the paradigm of Christ as savior got transformed to that of Christ as king and judge. (Even today there are those who are more concerned with relating to Mary than to Jesus ]] something even Pope John XXIII opposed when he said, "Mary doesn't like it when we esteem her more highly than her Son!" He said that we shouldn’t forget that Mary was a Jewish mother, “Listen to my son, the Rabbi.”)
It was against this mistaken understanding of Mary's place in God's plan that the Reformers rebelled. While she was exalted in Roman Catholic circles, she was given a small role in the Nativity pageant by most Protestants. Now through studies like Mary in the New Testament, undertaken by Protestant and Catholic scholars, we're beginning to recover the Biblical understanding of where she fits. The Time article I referenced earlier chronicles the work of Princeton Seminary New Testament scholar Beverly Gaventa, and the work of Lutheran theologians Robert Jenson and Carl Braaten on Mary’s role in faith and life among those who are not Roman Catholic or among the various Orthodox Christian Churches.
It is as the model of discipleship ]] even to the point of wondering what it all means ]] that we can now appreciate her.
I like what Soren Kierkegaard wrote:
Certainly Mary bore the child miraculously, but it came to pass with
her after the manner of women, and that season is one of dread, distress, and paradox. . . .She is not a fine lady who sits in state
and plays with an infant god. Nevertheless, when she says, "Behold
the handmaid of the Lord" ]] then she is great, and I think it will
not be difficult to explain why she became the mother of God. She
has no need of worldly admiration, any more than Abraham has
need of tears, for she was not a heroine, and he was not a hero, but
both of them became greater than such, not all because they were
exempted from distress and torment and paradox, but they became
greater through these.
What we hear in Kierkegaard's words is that God has worked in and through ordinary human beings ]] in all of the stuff that humans go through. Those who have heard God's will and kept it, done it, haven't accomplished the fact because they were special. Abraham, Moses, David, Mary were simply open to hear what God had to say and then responded in the midst of the world as they knew it.
What does this say to us as we try to understand the meaning of the Advent and Christmas season, apart from the customs and the kitsch that have gathered around them? Just this, our God still works in wondrous, surprising ways and keeps God’s promise. God can take individuals who are willing to hear and keep his Word and do things which are beyond our comprehension. Those of us who strive to hear God's Word don't have to be 'super saints' or extraordinary. We just have to be ourselves and be open, transparent to the working of God's Word in our lives.
Ultimately, each of us who seeks to be a Christian seeks to do what Mary did. We are to conceive God in our hearts by faith and give birth to him in our lives; like the old carol says: "be born in us today." It begins when we hear and respond, "Behold the servant of the Lord” that we understand the truth of Mary’s role beyond the manger, and ours, too.