Rev. David Horton

Luke 1:46-55
46 And Mary said,
‘My soul magnifies the Lord,
47   and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48 for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
   Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
49 for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
   and holy is his name.
50 His mercy is for those who fear him
   from generation to generation.
51 He has shown strength with his arm;
   he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
52 He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
   and lifted up the lowly;
53 he has filled the hungry with good things,
   and sent the rich away empty.
54 He has helped his servant Israel,
   in remembrance of his mercy,
55 according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
   to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’

Reflection:
I know, I know. It’s not Christmas yet. But we’re talking about worship this month and I couldn’t resist the GOAT* of all worship songs. (*GOAT means Greatest Of All Time. Now you know.)

The angel Gabriel interrupts Mary’s boring teenage life with the worst and most thrilling news possible. It’s the worst news because it means Mary will be a young mother out of wedlock. Mary will be shunned, whispered about by holier-than-thou religious types, her fiancé’s family will chase her out of town, or worst-case scenario-—she could be punished by death.

And at the same time, Gabriel’s message is thrilling. Compelling. Gospel in its purest form—untainted good news. There’s a neonatal Savior in Mary’s womb. That child will save the world. He will pick up where his ancestor, King David, left off and make God’s ways the only ways.

So Mary spontaneously combusts into praise and worship. She sings her heart out. She can’t contain her joy, which is surprising because this is terrible news. She’s in mortal danger. And it’s also good news. She’s the mother of the Christ. So which is it? Is it time to worship, or is time to run?

In quieter times, the oldest wing of my church building would buzz with the sound of adults learning how to speak English. The county-sponsored ESL and GED classes in the morning and evenings and most of the students were first-generation immigrants from the four corners of the earth. It was a morning in December when I heard what sounded like an angel’s voice coming down the hallway. She was singing “Little Drummer Boy” in mixed English and Spanish. I followed the song down the hallway.

The ESL classes had taken a break from their studies and were having a little Christmas party in one of the classrooms. I forget the singer’s name. I know she was a student and, no exaggeration here, she could have played Mary of Nazareth in any Jesus movie. She was young and had the most bittersweet voice. I watched her and knew the odds of a prosperous life were stacked against her. I couldn’t have known what awaited her in sixth months’ time—a pandemic that would shut down her English training and job prospects, and most certainly would land her in the food lines. Everything was uphill for this young girl. She was one of the lowly whom God, I’m sure of it, will raise over me (v. 52).

And she chose to worship. “Come, they told me. A newborn king to see.” She made a choice in that moment to worship. “I have no gift to bring that’s fit to give our king.” She was gritty. She knew the long, hard road ahead of her. “Then he smiled at me. Me and my drum.”

Be like her. Be like Mary. These are the worst times, and these are the most thrilling times, full of hardship and full of gospel. This month, this day, this hour, I hope you don’t choose to run. I hope you choose to worship.

Prayer:
Loving God, you fill the hungry with good things. So instead of asking for good things, I ask you to make me hungry. Make me hungry for you, your presence, your love, and your ways. Help me to choose to worship. In the name of Jesus, Son of Mary, I pray. Amen.