Showing posts with label Mary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mary. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 18, 2024

4TH SUNDAY OF ADVENT | MARY


Traditionally, the 4th Sunday of Advent is Mary Sunday. It is also called Rose Sunday, not only because Mary is associated with roses, but also because the colour of the Advent candle lightens from purple to rose. 

On that day Mary’s song is sung. The Magnificat, (Luke 1:46-55) is perhaps the earliest Advent hymn. In it Mary “magnifies” what God has done and will do. Like an aria in an opera, like a soliloquy in a play, the action almost stops and her message alone is centre stage.

The fourth Sunday of Advent is also called “stir-up Sunday”, the day when Anglicans gathered to stir up the Christmas pudding, which had to sit for several weeks. It also reflects the first two words of the collect (prayer): “STIR UP, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people…” 

The “stir up” theme is so appealing, because it is so easy to resort to predictable pattern of behaviour and thinking at Advent season that keep us in a comfortable but stunted state of spiritual growth.

Mary stirs things up — she is a stirrer!

The first part of the Magnificat is Mary’s joy and praise of God and God’s action in her life:

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord: my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour…”

But it’s not the first part of the Magnificat that has caused it to be banned in several modern countries. It’s the second part:

      “He has scattered the proud in their conceit
       He has cast down the mighty from their thrones
       And has lifted up the lowly.
       He has filled the hungry with good things,
       And the rich he has sent away empty..."

During the British rule of India, the government prohibited the Magnificat from being publicly recited in churches. In the 1980’s, Guatemala’s government decided that Mary’s words about God’s preferential love for the poor were dangerous and revolutionary, in fact were stirring up the country’s impoverished masses, inspiring them to believe that change was possible. 

In 1983, the military junta of Argentina outlawed any pubic display of Mary’s song after the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo placed the Magnificat’s words on posters throughout the city – the same mothers whose children all had disappeared during the blood-soaked days of the Dirty War. In the 1930’s, Mary’s song was banned in Mexico and in Franco’s Spain.

Before being executed by the Nazis in 1933, the German Lutheran Dietrich Bonhoeffer said this: “The song of Mary is at once the most passionate, the wildest, one might even say the most revolutionary Advent hymn ever sung. This is not the gentle, tender, dreamy Mary whom we sometimes see in paintings. This song has none of the sweet, nostalgic or even playful tones of some of our Christmas carols. It is instead a hard, strong, inexorable song about the power of God and the powerlessness of humankind.” 

Once stirred up, the picture of Mary is far different than it seems first.

The Advent journey of Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem from Nazareth, was probably part of a caravan for safety, walking 112 kilometres miles through rough and dangerous terrain. Mary with a full-term pregnancy may not have had a donkey for her to ride.

The Smithsonian website says: “Some 20 years before the birth of Jesus, King Herod, the Roman-appointed governor of Judea, built a huge palace for himself near Bethlehem. The ruins still exist. It sits atop a slave-made mountain some seven stories, high. It became known as the Herodium and was the largest palatial complex in the Roman world. It is still accessible from any point in Bethlehem and was about three miles across the flat desert from the supposed site of the birthplace of Jesus.”

Mary and Joseph certainly were aware of this imposing structure as they entered Bethlehem. On a clear night, perhaps they could look up and see the light from the torches atop the hill. They would have seen the wealth and arrogance of the aristocracy looming over the poor peasants in the Bethlehem hamlet.

Sunday, March 31, 2024

Mary on Easter Morning


We were weighed down, walking to the tomb.
We knew the way, for we had 
walked it two days before.
We had followed Joseph of Arimathea 
and his servant,
down the hill from Golgatha,
their arms straining with the 
dead weight of Jesus’ body.

We saw where they laid him, how they 
wrapped him in linen.
We saw their shoulders pushing that stone in place,
the sound of it grinding shut.
And though our eyes streamed tears
we marked the place,
for we knew we would come back.

And on the first day of the week,
we came, arms full of aromatic oil and spices;
cinnamon, cassia, myrrh.
All our resources pooled in a fragrant offering,
one last service for Jesus.
We walked the dark path,
the sky just beginning to lighten.

What we saw in the semi-darkness
was not the closed tomb we had expected,
but a gaping hole!
Alarmed, we looked inside,
seeing that Jesus’ body was gone.
Someone had been there before us.
How could this be?
Grave robbers?
Some final act of blasphemy against our Saviour?

Had Pilate changed his mind,
and was Jesus’ corpse now hanging 
somewhere for all to see?
I dropped all I was carrying and ran to find the other disciples.
Peter and John came racing back,
entering the tomb:
Jesus was not there.
I stood with them, our hands on the giant stone,
confusion written on our faces.
They left, but I remained, gathering up all those spices,
my tears dropping on the ground,
would this suffering never end?

I turned and looked again in the tomb,
but this time, there was not darkness, but light!
Two angels sitting where Jesus’ body should be;
and they asked me why I was weeping!
Why was I weeping?
And then another man, the gardener,
suddenly there behind me,
also asking about my tears.
All I wanted was Jesus’ body,
so I could do what I came here for,
mourn properly, anoint him with these spices in my arms.
“Where is Jesus, tell me if you know!” I cried.

And then he said my name, and I suddenly recognized him.
Jesus! Not dead, not cold, not lifeless, not gone forever!
Jesus, alive, before me, talking, looking in my eyes!
My heart about stopped as I reached out to hold him,
to see if he was real, touchable, Jesus in the flesh.
He talked of My God and Your God,
and suddenly it was real to me.

It was not God far away, not God not listening,
but God present, God doing impossible things,
God making morning miracles out of death’s darkness.
Jesus asked me to go and tell the others.
I threw the spices on the ground,
(no need of them now!) and I started running,
my feet moving faster than they’ve ever moved.
beautiful with good news,

I have seen the Lord!
I have seen the Lord!

Source: Carol Penner