Luke 1:47-55

Listen! Shhh! Can you hear it? Coming from over there...or is it over THERE...or perhaps its coming from some other location? Do you hear the sound of someone...singing?

Not the singing of carolers, mind you. There's lots of that going around these days - folks trying to bring the Christmas spirit to others. Singing "Deck The Halls With Boughs of Holly", and "Silent Night", and "I'm Dreaming Of A White Christmas". But listen! Shhh! This is not the music of carolers. Its a different sound. Can you make out what it is?

Maybe its the sound of angel choirs, singing in the Christmas sky! "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace - good will - toward all!" Angelic music is so much a part of the Advent season! But - shhh - listen carefully! No, this is not the sound of angels.

Why, its the distant sound of a young girl...singing.

Fourteen, maybe fifteen years old. Her voice is sweet, but full of expression, almost as if - at her young age - she knows something about life. And there are some things about Advent that you and I can never understand until we listen to this young girl sing.

The girl is Mary, and the song she sings is called The Magnificat because magnificat is the first word in the Latin translation of the song. "My soul magnifies the Lord...!" And, as with all songs, Mary's song tells a story. Its a story about some of the deepest meanings of Christmas. And yet, they are meanings we sometimes carelessly overlook.

Please note that this is a song of great joy - a joy-song that tells of God reaching out to a person on the very bottom of life's totem pole, and lifting that person to the heights of exalted blessedness! And the person who is singing this magnificent magnificat - happens to be a woman! You see, one of the oft-overlooked messages of Christmas is that God is restoring women to their intended place in life!

Who could be lower on the social register of that day than a woman? Women had no status, no rights, no place in the Temple except in the outer courts. Women had no voice. They could not speak in the religious services, and they could not speak in public with men. Women were valued only in terms of the services they could provide for men. And when the men were through with them, the men could say, "I divorce you. I divorce you. I divorce you." And with these three recitations, that was that. No provisions for support. No responsibility for children. This abusive practice was literally called "putting away", and Malachi 2:16 describes it as something God hates. Women so discarded by men were often left in the position of needing to provide for themselves and their children by turning to things like prostitution. This is probably why Jesus said that whoever puts away his wife and marries another causes her to become an adulteress. And women caught in adultery, as we well know from the 8th chapter of John, were frequently put to death by stoning.

Women were blamed for Adam's fall. Their menstrual cycle was seen as a sign of uncleanness, a part of a curse placed on Eve. And every morning, religious men would attend to the morning prayers, reciting together, "Lord, I thank Thee that I was not born a woman."

And yet in the awesome stillness of the Advent season, a young woman sings a song about a God who values women so highly that he intervenes in human history to break the evil patriarchal chains! A lowly woman is lifted higher than any man has ever been lifted - and she becomes the co-"begat-ter" of the living Word of God! Imagine that!

And its important in our day for Christians to take seriously the high calling God has given women. God depended upon Mary to bring about Christmas, and God depends upon women still for some of the most important ministry, for healing and for preaching of the Word made flesh. And the Christian Church needs to foster and encourage these new female roles, even though it sometimes feels unusual and strange! But, you see, that's what sin does. Sin makes what's right and good and godly seem uncomfortable. And in our Christian families, the voices of wives and daughters need to be encouraged and listened to and given equal standing with the voices of husbands and sons. Decision-making needs to be opened up so that the insights of Mary will be able to complement and deepen the insights of Joseph. And you and I must work diligently to ensure that women are set free from ungodly social systems that pay them and treat them and hire them and use them as though they are something less than what Christmas makes them - which is blessed. And we even need to resist those within our own Christian fold who are quick to quote Scriptures about a need for women's quiet submissiveness to men, but who always conveniently leave out the more central story about the young woman God exalted over every man, and who preached in song the very first Christmas sermon.

Mary's song still needs to be sung! Will you be one who joins the chorus?

One of the great joys of my life occurred a number of years ago when one of the young women in my youth group announced that she felt called to enter the ministry. Megan even said that my ministry had inspired her in that direction, and I was humbled to think that God could use me in such a way in a young person's life. And this past Fall, Megan - who also happens to be my daughter-in-law's sister - entered seminary. And I see God at work in her life - and in her preaching - and in her work with young and old alike. And when I close my eyes and carefully listen, I think I can hear Megan singing Mary's song!

A new day has come for women in the world! In the birth of Christ, God has exalted women! That's part of what Christmas means! And you and I must be at work in the church and in society, to see to it that every woman who's been given a song gets to sing it to the glory of God!

But that's not all. Mary's song continues:

You see, this amazing woman, Mary, identifies in her own exaltation by God the exaltation of ALL the lowly people of the world.

Christmas is for the left-out people of humanity. The hurt. Those who are grieving. The lonely. Those who wrestle with doubts. People who are ill. People who have gotten lost in the shuffle of life.

Christmas is for people like Tommy, the 8-year old son of a woman who used to show up on the doorstep of one church I served looking for permission to charge food at a local grocery store. When his mother had abused the privilege to the point that we knew we were not helping her by giving her handouts, we told her enough was enough. But a few days later, there was Tommy knocking at the church door. Scraggily dressed in clothes much too light for winter. A look of hunger in his eyes. And only eight-years old. "Mr. Singley, I was wondering if you could help us get some food."

Those of us who are from the middle classes do not fully appreciate the systemic causes of poverty in which whole generations of people - like Tommy - grow up knowing no other way than the way of the streets. There are some people who never have a chance in this world.

But Mary's Song tells us that part of what Christmas means is that God is at work in our world lifting the lowly, exalting those who are left out! And to join that effort is what it means for us to celebrate Christmas and to live Christmas all year long! To actively involve ourselves in the exaltation of the lowly!

Its sort of like what happened one day in Brooklyn to the son of a Jewish couple. The boy attends a school for learning-disabled children, and in a speech before the school, his father said he cannot resolve in his heart why his son cannot be like other children. Everything God makes is supposed to be perfect, the father said, but where is the perfection in Shaya? The audience was shocked by the question, and pained by the father's anguish. Then the man spoke again. "I believe," he said in answer to his own question, "that when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection he seeks is in the way people respond to the child." And then he told them what had recently happened.

One afternoon, Shaya and his father walked past a park where some boys Shaya knew were playing baseball. Shaya asked, "Do you think they will let me play?" Shaya's father knew his son was not at all athletic and that his disability stood in the way of his playing a meaningful part in any game. As much as it would be a wonderful experience for Shaya, the father realized the boys knew about Shaya's limitations, and he was sure they would not want Shaya to disrupt their game. But he took a chance anyway, and approached one of the boys in the field. "Would you be willing to let Shaya play - even if just to get up to bat?"

The youngster looked to his teammates for guidance. Getting none, he took matters into his own hands, saying, "Look, we're behind by six runs and its the last of the eighth inning. I suppose it wouldn't hurt if Shaya got to bat once we have two outs in the ninth." The father was ecstatic, and Shaya was grinning broadly.

But then, a problem. In the bottom of the eighth, Shaya's team scored a few runs, cutting the gap to three. Then, in the bottom of the ninth, Shaya's team scored again, and with one out, loaded the bases. The next batter struck out. Now there were two outs, with the potential tying and winning runs on base. And Shaya was supposed to be up. The father knew the boys had every right to change their minds. After all, the game was on the line.

But, miracle of miracles, his teammates handed Shaya the bat. He strode up to the plate with a nervous smile on his face, holding the bat reverse-handed. His father started to say something, but then decided not to. He hid his face.

When he looked up, he saw something amazing. The opposing pitcher - who was very fast and very good - stepped down from the mound and got closer to the plate. Then, very gently, he lobbed the ball toward Shaya. He swung. Clumsily. And missed.

Then one of Shaya's teammates went to the plate and showed Shaya how to hold the bat, reaching from behind to hold it with him. The pitch came in, and together they swung. And they hit the ball - a slow roller right back to the pitcher. The pitcher picked up the ball and started to throw to first for the final out. But all at once he stopped. Instead of throwing to first, he took the ball and sent it soaring way out to right field, far over the fielder's head. Everyone started screaming, "Run, Shaya, run!"

Never in his life had Shaya run to first. He scampered down the baseline wide-eyed and startled. By the time Shaya rounded first and headed for second, the right-fielder had the ball. He could easily throw the ball to second for the out. But he didn't! No, the right-fielder took the ball and threw it as far as he could - over the third-baseman's head! "Run to second, Shaya, run to second!" everyone screamed.

And Shaya did. But as Shaya reached second base, he couldn't remember where to go next. So the opposing shortstop ran over, turned him in the direction of third, and hollered, "Run, Shaya, run to third!"

And he did. And when Shaya rounded third and ran for home, the kids from both teams ran behind, scooping him up to their shoulders once he'd touched home plate, cheering wildly.

"That day," said Shaya's father to the audience at the school, tears rolling down his face, "those 18 boys brought the reality of God's perfection to my little Shaya's life."

That's what Mary's song says. And it is a call for you and me to concentrate our lives on lifting up others. And its a promise to each of us that God is already present in the midst of our own hurt and lostness, working overtime to lift us up. You see, Mary's song is meant to be sung together - by all who know the joy of Christmas.

How magnificent is this God! Who among us would not choose to follow him and become like him? Lifting the lowly! Filling the hungry with good things! Singing with Mary a song that fills the world with the living Word of God!

In the words of Mary, "Blessed be God's holy name!"