A Sermon preached in
The Fourth Sunday of Advent, Year C
20 December 2015
20 December 2015
Take our lips, O Lord, and
speak through them, take our minds and think through them, take our hearts and
set them on fire for you. Amen.
My
mother always had a tune under her breath.
She was constantly humming
and
occasionally breaking out in song. As a
music major, she studied all the major composers and practiced diligently on
the piano, modeling for us how to be disciplined and faithful towards a
passion.
My
mother always had a tune under her breath – maybe to change the subject
away
from a difficult situation, or maybe to lighten up the mood when things were
tense, or maybe just to express her joy.
I thought about her singing habit all week as I would occasionally sing
out, “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord…” Which is, of course …the
first line of The Song of Mary, one song in a series of songs offered in the
Gospel of Luke.
Mary
sings when Elizabeth greets her, Zechariah sings when his son John is born, the
angels sing with the multitude of the heavenly host when they bring good news
of great joy, and Simeon sings his song of release once he realizes that God
has kept God’s promises in Jesus, the Christ child. Jesus might have even sung his first sermon as
he read from Isaiah, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has
anointed me to bring good news to the poor.”
It
seems that many people have a tune under their breath, but why?
Pastor
David Lose[1] suggests
that it is because singing is an act of
resistance.
singing is an act of resistance.
While singing is
an act of joy and a way to share companionship, it can be, and is often,
an act of resistance.
Scientifically
speaking, Psychology Professor John Lennon suggests
that
singing is an inborn response that fulfills a need to communicate
with
the larger Self.[2]
(with a capital “S”) Singing is a way to push against, or
to
resist the world as we see it from our small self and to bring to bear the
More, what is beyond us, the community’s whole Self.
In
other words, singing is a body-mind-soul response to re-member our little selves with a larger community – and all of
creation. This act of resistance, of pushing against our reality, serves to
remind us who we are and whose we are.
American
slaves knew this.
The spirituals they sang praised God and gave voice to their protest. They sang
a protest against their masters who kept them from worshiping, but could not
keep them from deliverance as promised in the Bible.
Civil
rights leaders knew this
too – singing “We Shall Overcome,” when many people did not allow a
movement of justice or a triumph of equal rights.
Protesters
in Leipzig, Germany (1989) knew this as well, “…for several months
preceding
the fall of the Berlin wall, citizens gathered by candlelight …to sing.
Over
two months their numbers grew from a little more than a thousand people to more
than three hundred thousand (over half the citizens of the city), singing songs
of hope and protest and justice, until their song shook the powers of their
nation and changed the world.
(Later,
when someone asked one of the East German secret police why they did not crush this
protest like they had so many others, the officer replied, “We had no
contingency plan for song.”!)”
And
Mary and Elizabeth knew this.
They must have known how absurd their situation was: Elizabeth, too old to bear
a child and Mary too young and not yet married. Yet, (in the hill country of
Judea, a long way from any place of power and influence) they were both called to
bring God’s promises through their little selves to their larger community, the
people of Israel – and all of creation.
When
they looked at the situation squarely in the face, they did not retreat. They
did not apologize. They did not despair.
They believed that nothing would be impossible with God. And what did they do? They sang.
And
the Magnificat – Canticle 15 – (which we say every day at Evening Prayer, here
in the chapel, 5pm [won’t you join us?]) The Magnificat is Mary’s answer
to
the blessing she received from Elizabeth.
When
Mary sang, she did not do so under
her breath. She sang out, affirming God’s greatness. She sang out, proclaiming good news for the
poor. She sang out, declaring freedom from systemic injustice. She sang out, announcing the end of
oppression by political rulers. She sang out, beholding God’s redemption of her
and her child.
She
sang of God’s redeeming work not as future, but in a voice of prophets, that
God’s work was already fulfilled. Such is the confidence of faith in the face
of darkness. Such is her prophetic word of liberation, with authority, from her
soul. That is how she responded to her lived darkness, of fear, humiliation,
oppression.
That
is how we can respond to our lived darkness, the darkness that we have faced in
recent weeks – the threats of terrorism, the violence to innocent people, the
unkind words expressed by politicians, the unexpected death of loved ones –
given this darkness that we have faced in recent weeks, what do we do?
We
sing. We sing songs of hope that resist
current darkness. Sing songs of hope that
require us to look beyond ourselves for rescue and relief. Songs of hope that
give us clear voice and fresh ears for God’s promises God’s promises made to
Abraham and all God’s people that God will come among us and be with us, forever.
When
the world seems dark, we sing. When God seems distant, we sing. When it seems
the powers & principalities are winning, we sing. Why do we sing?
Because
through God’s goodness we resist our small selves in favor of the Self who is
More, the Self who is Love, The Self who connects us to each other, to all of
creation, in community.
We
sing because we believe in God’s ultimate scandal – that God would enter human
life with all it’s depravity, violence and corruption. We sing because it is our song.
And
in our song, we breathe together. For God’s breath fills our hungry hearts with
good things, God’s breath lifts up our vocal cords, God’s breath strengthens
our whole being. God’s breath arises from our soul to proclaim the greatness of
the Lord. God’s breath fills us with light and love to resist the present darkness.
That is why we sing. That is why Mary
sang.
My
sisters and brothers, this week you might find yourself humming a tune under
your breath. Share that tune with your friends and family. Breathe together in
joy and love and resistance. And when you do, you will be proclaiming the
greatness of the Lord in your life.
Keep
this song under your breath, and resist the darkness of our lives.
God
has – and will – do great things for us, and Holy is God’s name.
Amen.
[1] Inspired by http://bit.ly/1QI0cQJ cited on December 19,
2015
[2] Reported at http://bit.ly/1m63hO4 cited on December 19,
2015
