Organ

Being a parent is mostly about modeling relationships and sleep.  Wasn't ever really about what I was being shown, but what I saw.   We had a big church when I was a kid.  The building is still the same size but there where more people here.

There was no room at the inn in a real sense.  There was little elbow room as each family was in their, I assumed, assigned row.  Our row was assigned by my Granny.   She was shrewd.  We sat down front on the left.   In a half circle church you can see everything from there.  A corner of the choir loft out of sight but little happened on that side.   Most forget the choir was originally made to be closed. It was the protestant reform that opened them in all the churches.  We were half old school.

My Dad might have enjoyed a closed choir as there was more than one morning we could see him sleeping on the Organ.

A church in the round is meant to include all the saints in the other half of the circle. They actually planned their building around marriages as the most important function. One aisle is wider as the couple departs together.  If we were to build a new church tomorrow at Nottingham I think that is the last thing we would build our building around.

Everybody departed fairly fast most Sundays. There was one thing I watched my dad do more than anything else.  He would quickly go to say goodbye to the elderly organist who was sneaking out the back.   He would sometimes chase her down the hall.   In ten years I do not remember anyone else saying goodbye to her.

As I remember this today I asked some people there then if I had remembered her correctly.   She had no family here.  Well she had my Dad.   That's the guy I take with me.  Racing like the wind through the canyons of California.

Luke 4:14-21 our scripture for today I read from the Amplified Bible, the start of Jesus’ Public Ministry.  Is also a story about home.

14 Then Jesus went back to Galilee in the power of the Spirit, and the news about Him spread through the entire region. 15 And He began teaching in their synagogues and was praised and glorified and honored by all.

During the time of Jesus, Galilee was a region of cultural and economic diversity, marked by its fertile lands and proximity to major trade routes. It was under Roman rule, which brought both opportunity and oppression to its inhabitants. Known for its rural villages and thriving agriculture, Galilee was home to fishermen, farmers, and artisans. Yet, it was also a place of political tension and social disparity. The heavy taxation and exploitation by Roman authorities and local elites created widespread discontent, particularly among the lower classes. Galilee's population was a mix of Jews and Gentiles, and its culture reflected this blend, fostering debates about purity, identity, and religious practice. It was in this setting—amid poverty, resistance to Roman rule, and the hopes for a Messiah—that Jesus began his ministry, preaching a message of liberation, justice, and the nearness of God’s kingdom, resonating deeply with the struggles of ordinary Galileans.

16 So He came to Nazareth, where He had been brought up; and as was His custom, He entered the synagogue on the Sabbath, and stood up to read. 17 The scroll of the prophet Isaiah was handed to Him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written,

18 “The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me (the Messiah),

Because He has anointed Me to preach the good news to the poor.

He has sent Me to announce release (pardon, forgiveness) to the captives,

And recovery of sight to the blind,

To set free those who are oppressed (downtrodden, bruised, crushed by tragedy),

19 to proclaim the favorable year of the Lord [the day when salvation and the favor of God abound greatly].”

The Jubilee Year, rooted in Leviticus 25, is a biblical concept that called for a year of rest, restoration, and renewal every 50 years. During a Jubilee, debts were forgiven, slaves were freed, and ancestral lands were returned to their original families, embodying justice, mercy, and equality. This sacred time emphasized dependence on God rather than human systems of accumulation and inequality. In 2025, some traditions observe a Jubilee year, reflecting on these ancient principles in modern contexts. It is a call to reflect on economic justice, environmental stewardship, and societal reconciliation, encouraging a reevaluation of priorities and a renewed focus on restoring balance in communities and creation.  As we engage with this idea today, it challenges us to ask how we can embody the spirit of Jubilee in our lives and systems.

20 Then He rolled up the scroll [having stopped in the middle of the verse], gave it back to the attendant and sat down [to teach]; and the eyes of all those in the synagogue were [attentively] fixed on Him. 21 He began speaking to them: “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing and in your presence.”

This moment is charged with significance, as all eyes are fixed on Him.   In the cultural context, sitting down was the posture of a teacher preparing to explain the text, signaling that Jesus was about to speak with authority.   The silence and anticipation reflect the weight of His actions—He has just read a prophecy about liberation and God’s favor, and now the crowd waits to hear how He will interpret it.  Jesus’ next statement, proclaiming the fulfillment of the scripture, marks a radical declaration: He is the embodiment of Isaiah’s prophecy, bringing the good news to the poor and oppressed in their midst.  This verse serves as a pivotal moment in the Gospel, introducing Jesus' mission and the profound tension it will create.

Gospel in the flesh—

justice, love, and truth collide,

hearts and systems change

Jesus is a direct challenge to the status quo, advocating for a complete restructuring of societal and economic norms.  We tend to enjoy our bad habits.

"Good news to the poor" is a call to address systemic poverty and inequality, not just through charity but by dismantling exploitative systems.  

"Freedom for the oppressed" a declaration against all forms of oppression, including colonialism, racism, and sexism.

"The year of the Lord’s favor" where debts are forgiven, slaves are freed, and land is redistributed—an economic reset.  Something so foreign to us as God is to this world.

Jesus aligns Himself with the marginalized and demands action from His followers to transform unjust systems. A Rejection of Nationalism and Exclusivism. By reading Isaiah 61 and declaring its fulfillment, Jesus claims a universal mission that transcends Jewish national expectations of a political Messiah.

Later in Luke 4, Jesus angers His audience by pointing to instances in their scriptures where God’s miracles extended to non-Israelites, challenging their sense of exclusivity.  He mentions the widow in Zarephath, a foreigner in Sidon, who was sustained during a famine through Elijah’s intervention, and Naaman the Syrian, a Gentile commander healed of leprosy by Elisha.  These examples emphasize that God’s grace and power are not confined to Israel but are available to all people, regardless of nationality or status.  This message confronts the audience’s deeply held assumptions about their privileged relationship with God and their expectations of the Messiah.   Rather than affirming their superiority or catering to their desires for nationalistic deliverance, Jesus highlights God’s universal mission of compassion and justice.  This radical inclusivity incites rage among the listeners, revealing the tension between human exclusivity and divine generosity—a recurring theme in Jesus’ ministry.

There is often no room at the inn.  We like our elbow room.

Jesus' declaration is both spiritual and political, fusing the two in a way that was—and still is—radical. By refusing to separate spiritual renewal from practical, earthly liberation, Jesus upends the compartmentalization of faith and politics.

For those who believe the gospel is unconcerned with issues of justice and systemic change, both Jesus' proclamation in Luke 4 and Martin Luther King Jr.'s Letter from a Birmingham Jail expose the absurdity of such a notion.   The gospel is not a disembodied, otherworldly message that ignores the realities of human suffering; it is deeply rooted in the call to bring good news to the poor, to set the oppressed free, and to transform the world here and now.  As King so poignantly wrote, “Any religion that professes to be concerned about the souls of men and is not concerned about the slums that damn them, the economic conditions that strangle them, and the social conditions that cripple them is a spiritually moribund religion.”  Jesus’ ministry embodied this truth, showing that to preach the gospel is to confront poverty, oppression, and injustice with divine urgency and transformative love.

To claim otherwise is to ignore the radical, world-altering implications of His first sermon and the entirety of His ministry.

"I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of the hunger for life that gnaws in us all."

Richard Wright’s reflections, particularly his declaration in Black Boy of “hurling words into this darkness,” capture the prophetic urgency echoed in both Jesus’ proclamation in Luke 4:14-21 and King's Letter from a Birmingham Jail. Wright’s hunger for life and justice, born out of his own encounters with systemic oppression, reveals that the human spirit craves not just survival but liberation.   His story The Ethics of Living Jim Crow, from Uncle Tom’s Children, exposes the brutalities of injustice while highlighting the absurdity of separating spirituality from the material struggles of life.  Both King and Jesus challenged the status quo, demanding that faith be lived out in ways that address suffering and oppression directly.  Both would walk this world less than 40 years.

Before his assassination, Martin Luther King Jr. faced significant challenges, including intense opposition from political leaders, segregationists, and even some members of his own community.  His leadership in the Civil Rights Movement led to constant threats on his life and the lives of his family, as well as widespread public criticism.  King also endured physical and emotional exhaustion from leading marches, protests, and sit-ins, particularly in the face of violent resistance.  Despite his nonviolent stance, he was imprisoned multiple times, and his calls for justice were met with hostility, especially when he expanded his focus to include economic inequality and opposition to the Vietnam War.  These difficulties, however, did not deter him from his mission of justice, equality, and peace.

James Baldwin’s words in Nobody Knows My Name resonate deeply with these themes, emphasizing that real change demands the painful breakup of the world as one has always known it.   Baldwin writes, “It is only when a man is able, without bitterness or self-pity, to surrender a dream he has long possessed that he is set free.”   This echoes the call of the gospel and King’s plea to the church: to surrender the comfort of old, familiar ways and embrace a higher calling. The gospel is not merely about maintaining safety or tradition but about taking risks for justice, tearing down barriers, and reimagining a world aligned with God’s vision of equity and freedom.

Wright’s and Baldwin’s works both highlight the tension between the human desire for stability and the radical upheaval necessary for liberation.   Baldwin’s description of surrendering old dreams mirrors the way Jesus calls his followers to leave behind worldly securities in favor of a greater, divine promise.   It is in that surrender—both personal and collective—that true freedom is found.   This truth echoes in Wright’s portrayal of the resilience of those who endured oppression, illustrating that faith, courage, and action are essential for building a just world.

The challenge for us today is to embrace this call to transformation.   As King pointed out, some may believe the gospel is unconcerned with justice, but that view is absurd.   Jesus’ proclamation of good news to the poor, freedom for the oppressed, and release for the captives is inherently political and deeply intertwined with the realities of the human condition.  Faith that does not address suffering, inequity, and injustice is incomplete.   Baldwin, Wright, and King remind us that the gospel compels us to step out of complacency, risk discomfort, and imagine a world made new—not out of bitterness, but with hope for higher dreams.

In Luke 4:14-21, Jesus boldly proclaims a mission that is both spiritual and political, declaring liberation for the oppressed and freedom for the captives.   This fusion of spiritual renewal and earthly justice finds a modern echo in Martin Luther King Jr.'s Letter from Birmingham Jail.  King, like Jesus in the synagogue, confronts a complacent audience that prefers the comfort of gradualism over the urgency of justice.  He challenges the "white moderate" of his time, who prioritizes order over righteousness, reminding them that "justice too long delayed is justice denied."  Similarly, Jesus, by invoking the Jubilee and Isaiah’s prophecy, demands immediate and transformative action, rejecting the status quo and the passive waiting for change.

Both Jesus and King call for active engagement in the work of liberation, understanding that true justice cannot remain abstract or deferred. King writes, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere,” a statement that mirrors Jesus’ radical insistence that God’s kingdom is not confined to a future hope but is breaking into the present.  For King, the church is called to be the "thermostat" that sets the moral temperature of society, not a "thermometer" that merely reflects its injustices.  Jesus’ inaugural sermon embodies this prophetic thermostat, proclaiming a justice so comprehensive that it demands systemic change.  A return.  Together, their messages challenge us to fuse faith and action, recognizing that spirituality divorced from justice is an empty promise.

A deeply personal interpretation sees this passage as a challenge to individual followers of Jesus:

Are you bringing good news to the poor in your community?

Are you actively working to free those oppressed by unjust systems?

How are you embodying the "year of the Lord’s favor" in your relationships and financial practices?

We need to take an active role in God’s justice in the world.

It may seem like we are so far removed from the concept of Jubilee.  The key verses come from Leviticus 25.  Verse 10: “You shall consecrate the fiftieth year and proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you; each of you is to return to your family property and to your own clan.”

We have become fractured and our families have grown smaller.  I am not sure we can even comprehend.

Verse 23: “The land must not be sold permanently, because the land is mine and you reside in my land as foreigners and strangers.”

I have never known anyone but a refugee to think like that.

To close I would like to share a few things.   First these words of James Baldwin:

Any real change implies the breakup of the world as one has always known it, the loss of all that gave one an identity, the end of safety.  And at such a moment, unable to see and not daring to imagine what the future will now bring forth, one clings to what one knew, or dreamed that one possessed.   Yet, it is only when a man is able, without bitterness or self-pity, to surrender a dream he has long possessed that he is set free, he has set himself free for higher dreams, for greater privileges.

Second, that I may not know where I am going, but I know how and with who.   I take with me a few pieces of the Song of the Open Road from What Whitman's Leaves of grass:

Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,

Healthy, free, the world before me,

The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,

Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,

Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,

Strong and content I travel the open road.

Whoever denies me it shall not trouble me,

Whoever accepts me he or she shall be blessed and shall bless me.

Allons! the road is before us!

It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well—be not detain’d!

Let the paper remain on the desk unwritten, and the book on the shelf unopen’d!

Let the tools remain in the workshop! let the money remain unearn’d!

Let the school stand! mind not the cry of the teacher!

Let the preacher preach in his pulpit! let the lawyer plead in the court, and the judge expound the law.

Camerado, I give you my hand!

I give you my love more precious than money,

I give you myself before preaching or law;

Will you give me yourself? will you come travel with me?

Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?

As Baldwin reminds us, 'Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.'  And as Wright challenges us, the work of transformation begins with a clarity of vision rooted in hope.

So, as we leave this moment of reflection, I ask you to consider:  What will you face today, in your life, your community, or your world?  And how will you be part of the change that hope makes possible?  Let us leave here not merely inspired, but committed to act with courage and purpose.

Let Us Pray:

Holy and eternal One,

You who bring light to our paths and strength to our steps,

we come before You with open hearts and humble spirits.

May we be vessels of Your justice,

carrying freedom to the oppressed and good news to the weary.

Grant us courage to see beyond comfort,

wisdom to embrace Your vision of equity,

and love to bind us together in compassion and service.

Shape us into agents of Your grace,

transforming this world through faith and action.

Amen.

Benediction:

Go now in the Spirit of freedom and renewal,

carrying the light of justice, the strength of love,

and the hope of transformation.

May your steps echo grace,

your hands build peace,

and your hearts remain steadfast in faith.

Amen.

Nottingham UMC 1/26/2025

Organ

 Being a parent is mostly about modeling relationships and sleep.  There are some times and places I remember.  Wasn't ever really about what I was being shown, but what I saw.  We had a big church when I was a kid.  The building is still the same size but there where more people there.

There was no room at the inn in a real sense.  There was little elbow room as each family was in their I assumed assigned row.  Our row was assigned by my Granny.  She was shrewd.  We sat down front on the left.  In a half circle church you can see everything from there.  A corner of the choir loft out of sight but little happened on that side.  Most forget the choir was originally made to be closed.  It was the protestant reform that opened them down in all the churches.  We were half old school.

A church in the round is meant to include all the saints in the other half of the circle.  They actually planned their building around marriages as the most important function.  On aisle is wider as the couple departs together.  If we were to build a new church tomorrow at Nottingham I think that is the last thing we would build our building around.

Everybody departed fairly fast most Sundays.  Once a month we would Inger with donuts.  There was one thing I watched my dad do more than anything else.  He would quickly go to say goodbye to the elderly organist who was sneaking out the back.  He would sometimes chase her down the hall.  In ten years I do not remember anyone else saying goodbye to her.  

As I remember this today I asked some people there then if I had remembered her correctly.  She had no family there I guess.  Well she had my Dad.  That's the guy I take with me.  Racing like the wind through the canyons of California.

Mary

A young girl, barely in her teens, standing in a quiet corner of her home.  She’s just been told something extraordinary—something that would terrify most of us.  She’s going to carry the hope of the world in her body.  The stakes couldn’t be higher, and the risks are overwhelming.  Yet she doesn’t run, she doesn’t argue.  Instead, she simply says, ‘Let it be to me according to your word.’

Mary’s ‘yes’ to God has echoed through generations, not just because of what it meant for the birth of Jesus, but because of what it tells us about courage, faith, and trust.  As theologian Karl Rahner observed, Mary’s fiat ('Let it be to me according to your word') represents the perfect human response to divine grace—an openness that enables God’s transformative work in the world.

Today, I want to talk about Mary—not as a distant figure in a nativity scene, but as a young woman who faced unimaginable challenges with strength and grace.  What can we learn from her? And how does her story invite us to see the overlooked and underappreciated roles in our own lives differently?

The story of Mary and Elizabeth is not just a tale of shared joy—it’s a radical declaration of how God moves through the unexpected and the overlooked.  Mary, a young girl from a humble village, carries the hope of the world.  Elizabeth, long considered barren, becomes the mother of the one who will prepare the way, continuing a legacy of faithfulness that stretches back through three generations.  Together, they embody a truth that shakes the foundations of power: God’s greatest works often begin in places and people the world disregards, weaving a legacy where every detail is intentional and transformative.

Here we are, in the fourth week of Advent, often called Mary Sunday.  For the second year in a row, it falls on the fourth Sunday.  I hadn’t preached about Mary before last year, and to be honest, I’m not sure I fully appreciated her story until recently.  My work with Catholic Charities in the past gave me a new perspective on her, especially on the prominent role she plays in the Catholic Church.  I say "outsized" because it’s a role I wasn’t familiar with, and it’s one that often goes unnoticed in my own tradition.

What stands out to me most is that this role is deeply gendered.  Often, we elevate figures or concepts to the point where we forget their true significance.  As Protestants, we may be particularly prone to glossing over some of these traditions entirely.  In my own faith journey, my relationship with God has always been central.  I’ve often felt skeptical about organized religion.  In fact, that’s something my big sister once said to me.  When I invited her to Nottingham, I told her, "We’re not all that organized."

Maybe I get some of my skepticism from my first role models; my sisters.  Women in this world really are in a more complicated situation.  Science researchers certainly have agreed over the last century.  Most medical research has been done on men because they are so much simpler.  I don't know that I have ever been afraid.  Most women know a type of fear that I will never know.  One thing we can say about Mary she knew this fear. 

Several years ago, when I started giving these messages, I made a point to write them down.  There were a few reasons for this.  The first was practical: creating a message is no small task, and it seemed wasteful to use one only once.  The second reason was more personal.  I have sermons my grandfather took the time to type out, and through those words, I got to know him even better after he died.

When my daughter passed the bar, he helped me with the gift I gave them.  The doctor in Serbia seemed to know more than anybody when he looked at the ultra sound and said, "I don't see anything of his."  Being human can be tough enough.  It is more important that you work than how.  You either believe in creation or you don't.

I passed on one of the clocks I had inherited from my grandfather—a very special wall clock.  This clock, designed by Seth Thomas and manufactured by the Ball Watch Company, carries with it a world that my grandfather knew well. 

On the Ball

The Ball Watch Company was more than just a name.  Clocks were among humanity’s first computers.  Agreeing on what time it was unlocked a whole new level of order and possibility.  You Might even argue the beginning of the modern world.  

That phrase—"on the ball"—is a gift from this era.  To us, it’s a simple expression, but back then, it carried the weight of a world synchronized and in motion.  If you were on the ball, you weren’t just punctual—you were aligned, reliable, and ready.

It makes me think of my Sara.  They have always been “on the ball,” and I believe this will continue to serve them well, though the world changes around us.

God Is On the Ball

Debbie two weeks ago spoke about how God is “on the ball,” actively working for good in ways we can’t always see. We don’t know what’s coming, but we know it will be good.

Something curious has happened.  I’ve discovered something surprising.  I haven’t repeated a message.  Huh?

The context might be the same—the scripture unchanged—but the message is singular.  It evolves because we evolve.   A message, like Mary, is always singular.  Mary, in her visit to Elizabeth, shows patience and trust in divine timing.  Mary's acceptance and Elizabeth’s affirmation model community support and solidarity.  Traditions, skills, and faith are passed through generations.  A simple story from an old world.  Mary this new start can feel very modern.  Her strength we recognize.  The threes we take notice: community support and solidarity -  traditions, skills, and faith.

Mary’s story is a profound invitation to all of us, regardless of gender or background, to see our own lives reflected in her journey of faith and trust.  She was an ordinary young woman called into an extraordinary purpose, yet her response—“Let it be with me according to your word”—resonates as a model of courageous surrender to God’s will.  In her story, we find the universal human experience of facing uncertainty, wrestling with doubt, and ultimately stepping forward in faith.

This old world straining to be modern.

Established systems of power and social order are failing, while alternatives have yet to fully materialize.  Mary the first modern woman?  Mary’s story transcends the ancient world, offering timeless lessons for our modern struggles.  Her willingness to embrace the unknown, despite the enormous risks, mirrors the courage seen in today's leaders who confront uncertainty with faith and resilience.  Whether it's the young women challenging oppressive systems or individuals taking stands for justice in their communities,  Mary’s ‘yes’ to God calls us to examine how we respond to the divine invitation in our own lives.  Her journey isn’t just about motherhood or gender—it’s about discipleship, trust, and the power of saying ‘yes’ to God’s call, even when the path ahead is unclear.  In this way, Mary’s example continues to inspire all of us—regardless of gender or background—to trust in God’s plan and take courageous steps toward justice, compassion, and hope.

Today, as we reflect on Mary’s visit to Elizabeth, we see not just a meeting between two relatives but a profound moment of affirmation and trust.  Mary, carrying the promise of the Messiah, finds solace and support in Elizabeth, whose own miraculous pregnancy is a testimony to God’s faithfulness.

Luke 1:39-45 I read from the Amplified Bible

39 Now at this time Mary arose and hurried to the hill country, to a city of Judah (Judea), 40 and she entered the house of Zacharias and greeted Elizabeth. 41 When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, her baby leaped in her womb; and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and empowered by Him. 

-The best thing about being pregnant is feeling a deep connection to new life growing inside you.  What we have here is even more remarkable.  I doubt that these are the only two women to have this experience, but I mean wow.

42 And she exclaimed loudly, “Blessed [worthy to be praised] are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! 43 And how has it happened to me, that the mother of my Lord would come to me? 44 For behold, when the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. 45 And blessed [spiritually fortunate and favored by God] is she who believed and confidently trusted that there would be a fulfillment of the things that were spoken to her [by the angel sent] from the Lord.

This encounter is a bridge between generations—a younger woman seeking confirmation from an elder who understands the weight of the divine.  I’ve come to appreciate the human precision it takes to trust God's plan, especially when the path ahead is uncertain.

Mary’s visit reminds us that faith is not a solo journey.  It is enriched by community, by those who walk with us and remind us that we are part of something far greater.

In Mary and Elizabeth, we see the power of shared faith and mutual support—a timeless reminder that God’s promises are never late but arrive with perfect precision.  Beverly Roberts Gaventa, in Mary: Glimpses of the Mother of Jesus, notes that this meeting exemplifies the deep bonds of kinship and covenant, recalling the Old Testament narratives of faithful women like Ruth and Naomi, who found strength in solidarity.

The Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55 AMP)

46 And Mary said, “My soul magnifies and exalts the Lord,

47 And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior.

48 “For He has looked [with loving care] on the humble state of His maidservant;

For behold, from now on all generations will count me blessed and happy and favored by God!

-We all would like to leave a legacy, but this simple woman is right as we think of her primarily blessed and happy.  Some go as far to say that Mary had no pain with pregnancy.  But I think of her

49 “For He who is mighty has done great things for me; And holy is His name [to be worshiped in His purity, majesty, and glory].

50 “And His mercy is upon generation after generation

Toward those who [stand in great awe of God and] fear Him.

51 “He has done mighty deeds with His [powerful] arm;

He has scattered those who were proud in the thoughts of their heart.

-Mary had experience with those people she is telling us clearly here.  She did not come through life without complications, but she has seen the work of the Lord in her very presence.    

52 “He has brought down rulers from their thrones,

And exalted those who were humble.

- In the Magnificat, Mary speaks words that bridge the infinite and the immediate.  She is singular—chosen to bear the Word made flesh—and yet isolated, holding within her a truth no one else can yet see or fully understand.  Her song is an act of both expression and faith, words given shape to magnify what is otherwise beyond human comprehension.  My soul magnifies the Lord. It is a phrase that carries the weight of paradox: humility and exaltation, isolation and connection, the finite body holding the infinite God.

53 “He has filled the hungry with good things;

And sent the rich away empty-handed.

- Mary had experienced hunger and wanting.

54 “He has helped His servant Israel,

In remembrance of His mercy,

55 Just as He promised to our fathers,

To Abraham and to his descendants forever.”

56 And Mary stayed with Elizabeth for about three months, and then returned to her home.

Abraham reminds me of Sara and her own miraculous birth here.  In Genesis 18:12 from the Amplified Bible:

12 So Sarah laughed to herself [when she heard the Lord’s words], saying, “After I have become old, shall I have pleasure and delight, my lord (husband) being also old?” 

(Gen 17:17)  17 Then Abraham fell on his face and laughed, and said in his heart, “Shall a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? And shall Sara, who is ninety years old, bear a child?”

It is not a straight path but it goes through Sara and Mary.  Mary was like an answer to the laughter of Sara.  Progress would come slowly, but it would come.  People go to great lengths to say that Mary did not suffer and how that is important.  They talk of special grace.  I think that Mary must have suffered not the least when her child was killed.

Instead of believing that God makes it easy for a chosen few, it seems to me a chosen few make it easier for all of us. 

It is hard to look on Mary without are modern eyes.  That perhaps is not always a terrible thing.  We imagine a world that Mary did not live in, but Mary lives in this world.  There are many things we know that Mary knew.  It is easy to dismiss the role of women in the church.  It is easy to dismiss the complications of women in health research.

But we create a world out of balance.  Knocked off the ball we run on satellites.  We run faster but we get nowhere fast.  It is hotter.  !.5 degrees Celsius to be precise.

Women’s contributions are still often overlooked today. From unequal pay to the lack of women in leadership roles, society continues to undervalue their skills and perspectives.  Yet, examples of their resilience and excellence stand out—whether in movements like climate activism, with leaders like Greta Thunberg, or in healthcare and education, where women often play vital roles in their communities.  Even in faith settings, where traditional roles can persist, women lead with strength and wisdom, reflecting the virtues praised in Proverbs 31.  By sharing these stories, we can connect ancient teachings with modern life and encourage everyone to support full participation in building a better world.

Greta Thunberg, a young Swedish environmental activist, has been pivotal in raising global awareness about climate change.  Her work highlights the often-underestimated role of youth, particularly young women, in shaping global discourse on environmental justice. Her activism challenges the status quo, showing that even a single individual can spark global movements.  Much like Mary, who was young and from a humble background, Thunberg’s voice was not one that the world initially expected to make an impact, but her courage and dedication have reshaped how we think about climate activism.

Throughout his ministry, Jesus demonstrated a deep love and respect for his mother, Mary, while also using moments involving her to teach profound spiritual truths.  At the wedding in Cana, Mary’s trust in Jesus led to his first public miracle, transforming water into wine.  Her quiet confidence—“Do whatever he tells you”—reveals her understanding of his divine purpose.  Yet even in this intimate moment, Jesus subtly reminds her, “My hour has not yet come,” pointing beyond the immediate need to the greater mission ahead. This balance of care for his mother and focus on his divine calling is a recurring theme in their relationship.

Jesus also challenged traditional notions of family, broadening them to include all who follow God’s will.  When told his mother and brothers were seeking him, he responded, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?  Whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”  This wasn’t a dismissal of Mary but an invitation for all to see themselves as part of a larger spiritual family.  Similarly, when a woman praised Mary from the crowd, Jesus shifted the focus to obedience:  “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and obey it.”  In these moments, Jesus honored Mary’s role while emphasizing that faith and action bind us to God’s family more deeply than biological ties.

At the cross, however, we see the tenderness of a son who never forgot his mother.  In one of his final acts, Jesus ensured Mary would be cared for, entrusting her to his beloved disciple, John: “Woman, here is your son.”  Even as he bore the weight of the world’s sin, Jesus’ concern for Mary was deeply human, a reminder that divine mission and personal love coexist in God’s kingdom.  Together, these moments paint a picture of Jesus as both the Son of God and a devoted son to Mary, expanding our understanding of family and faith while never neglecting the bonds of love.

Mary’s Magnificat, her song of praise, is remarkable not only for its theological depth but for its revolutionary vision.  It speaks of a world turned upside down, where the humble are lifted, the hungry are fed, and the powerful are brought low.  These are not mere words of comfort—they are a proclamation of God’s justice and mercy, a declaration of hope for all who feel unseen, unheard, or forgotten.

Mary’s story, her song, and her faith, all three, are timeless reminders that God’s work often begins in the most humble and unexpected places.  Through her, we see learn these three: how faith transforms fear, how trust in God’s promises brings strength, and how the ordinary can carry the extraordinary.

As we move through Advent, let us reflect on Mary’s legacy—not just as the mother of Jesus but as a model of discipleship, courage, and unwavering trust in God.  Her story invites us to see our lives as part of a greater narrative, to trust in divine timing, and to magnify God’s presence in all that we do.

May we, like Mary, carry God’s promise into the world, even when the path is uncertain.  May we find strength in community, as Mary did with Elizabeth.  And may we remember that God is always “on the ball,” working through us to bring light into the darkness, hope into despair, and love into the world.

There are more women in Mary's community.  Starting from the most humble of places and the only two people to laugh directly at God in the Bible.  Do you think that is significant who the two people in the bible are who laugh at God?  The Christian community that developed from Abraham and Sara told themselves a story of three women.

The stories of Lilith, Eve, and Mary can be radically reinterpreted as a triad exploring humanity’s evolving relationship with power, freedom, and transformation.  Lilith, often cast as a villain in traditional folklore, represents a primal demand for equality and autonomy, rejecting both hierarchy and submission.  In her defiance, she becomes a shadow figure—a reminder of what humanity exiles when it fears the unyielding call for justice and self-definition.  Eve, positioned as the archetypal "fallen" figure, is not merely a symbol of weakness but of curiosity and risk.  Her decision to eat the fruit can be reframed as a courageous step into the unknown, a necessary rupture that sets the stage for human growth and the pursuit of wisdom, albeit through pain and toil.  Together, Lilith and Eve embody the paradoxes of rebellion and consequence, revealing that creation’s truest challenge lies in negotiating the boundaries between freedom and interdependence.

Mary, in this radical lens, emerges not as a docile counterpoint but as the harmonizer who reclaims the power of choice on her own terms.  Her "yes" to God is neither passive nor predestined but an act of radical trust in the possibility of transformation.  Unlike Lilith and Eve, who grapple with systems of exclusion and consequence, Mary transcends these cycles by offering a vision of integrated humanity—where autonomy and surrender coexist in a creative tension.  In her, the divine meets the human not in domination or judgment but in partnership and grace.  Seen through this lens, Lilith, Eve, and Mary together form a continuum of human striving: from raw independence, through the struggle of brokenness, to the redemptive embrace of purpose and renewal.  Their stories invite us to confront not just the roles we are given, but the ones we can choose to redefine.

Mary reminds us that greatness often begins in humility and faith, not in power or privilege.  Her story challenges us to recognize the overlooked and honor the contributions of those often dismissed.  Like Mary, may we respond to God’s call with courage, trusting that even our smallest acts of faith can be part of something extraordinary.  As we await the coming of Christ this Advent, let us also prepare our hearts to magnify the Lord through our own lives, lifting up the lowly and filling the hungry with good things

This week, I challenge you to take a moment to recognize and uplift someone whose role often goes unnoticed—whether it’s a caregiver, a volunteer, or a colleague working behind the scenes.  Let them know their work matters, and in doing so, reflect the love and recognition that God shows to all of us, no matter how small our part may seem.

Like Mary, may we recognize the power and dignity in every role we play, embracing our callings with faith and courage, knowing that even the smallest acts of trust can echo through eternity.  Let us go forward, inspired by Mary’s example, not only to trust in God but to actively build the community, justice, and hope that this world so desperately needs.  And as we do, may we find courage in the knowledge that the work of the Lord, though often unseen, is always at hand.

Let Us Pray:

God of infinite love and timeless precision, we come before You with hearts open to Your guiding light.  You have called each of us into a life of purpose, woven with faith, courage, and trust in Your promises.  In Mary’s story, we see our own call to surrender to Your will, even in uncertainty.  Strengthen us to walk paths of compassion, justice, and humility, always seeking to uplift and support one another.  Fill us with Your Spirit so that we may magnify Your name in our words and actions, carrying Your hope into the world. Amen.

Benediction:

Go forth into the world with hearts attuned to the call of grace.  In every encounter, may you bring kindness, in every challenge, perseverance, and in every moment, peace.  Go now, carrying the light of hope and love to all you meet.  Amen.

Nottingham UMC 12/22/2024

Words

We put our faith in words
The reason they exist is not what we use them for

In the beginning was the word

A unified theory of expression

I would like to say something helpful

We live on different planets

The many worlds interpretation of memory

If we all remember in slightly different ways

Billions of planets right here

How much does the universe contain?

None of the words will tell you

Mary

 The story about Mary is about Marry.  You know several years ago when I started giving these messages I wrote them down for several reasons.  I have been preaching now mostly the third week of the month for longer than I can remember.  We were all on zoom I know that.  

The first reason I wrote them down was maybe I could re-use them.  Making a message is hard enough it seemed silly to use it once.  Another reason: I have sermons my grandfather took the time to type out.  I want my children and grandchildren to have that.  I got to know my grandfather even better after he died,

He was an incredible man and even more if you know him then he ever showed you.  He is still providing for his family.  When my daughter passed the bar he helped me with my gift for them.  I gave them one of the clocks I had got from him.  It is a very special wall clock.  Designed by Seth Thomas and manufactured by the Ball Watch company.  This comes from a time when everything was made in Cleveland.  My grandfather knew this world well.  When he wanted to buy an instrument for his son to play he went to the local manufacturer of trombones.  

Yes we used to make trombones here in Cleveland, but before I get too far off track I want to tell you the story of the Ball Watch Company.  This was a time before computers as we know them.  Clocks were our first real computers.  We don't appreciate the world we create when we all just agree what time it is.  Time pieces allowed ships to chart their course with increasing accuracy leading them round and round the world.  Everything in that world ran on the Ball.

That expression on the Ball.  It is like the context we lose from the scriptures.  The things people just knew.  To my modern ears being on the ball is just a simple expression of someone like my Sara who has always been on task.  Will this strategy continue to serve them well?  I believe it will.  Well now to the story of The Ball Watch Company of Cleveland, Ohio.  If you were on the ball you were on time.  As Debbie discussed two weeks ago God is on the Ball actively working for good.  We don't know what is coming, but we know it will be good.

A funny thing happened these last years even as I arrived to the same spot on the liturgical calendar.  Now this takes years for it to happen that the third Sunday of the month is the same scripture in the calendar, but now it has happened many times to me.  I find myself not repeating even one message.

A message is singular as is Mary.

Won

The more you win the harder it is
When I think of what we were

Champions of everything

Where battle cries tears of joy

Victory forever elusive

When we won

We are playing by different rules

When I sum the result non-zero

You may count different yet one answer

We can change our definitions

Were always ours

At home with victory 

Trophy hunter wins fade

Something to endure is  the winning

Loss

The more you lose the easier it is

That first one maybe sixth grade

Gone were my football cards

42 years later I am an old pro

Loss leads you to places you were not going

Some are larger than others

When certain people go it is like living on a different planet

I have lost more than I remember

My victories is what is around me

Not where I was going

No where I would rather be