Love, a sermon based on Luke 1: 39-55 preached on December 22, 2024

After preaching a sermon the week before last on a long-awaited answered prayer, I’ve been moved by a couple members of our church who encouraged me to preach a follow-up sermon on the reality that God doesn’t always answer our prayers in the way that we want Him to. In fact, sometimes we pray, and then we need to brace ourselves for God’s answer to our prayers because God’s answer may shock us, require something from us, or force us to change in uncomfortable ways. On this fourth Sunday of the season of Advent as we light the candle of love, let us recognize that loving God and trusting God with our prayers is so much like any other loving relationship: To love God means that we change. It means that we let go of control. We trust His will, have faith, and all kinds of other uncomfortable things. This morning as we light the candle of love, brace yourself for love, for love hurts. Right? This morning in our second Scripture lesson, we turn to Mary, who, in the presence of Elizabeth, sang the song of an unwed, pregnant, teenage mother filled with joy, anticipation, and the knowledge that her whole life and the fate of this entire world was about to change, and so she sang: My soul magnifies the Lord. He has scattered the proud. He has brought down the powerful. He has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry, and sent the rich away empty. What we’ve just read is one of the most beautiful and well-known passages of Scripture in the Bible. It’s been set to music and sung for thousands of years now. We call it the Magnificat. It’s the song of Mary, the mother of Jesus, whose soul magnified the Lord, and doing so required that she be willing to change everything. Think with me about Mary this morning. Mary, who was pregnant with the baby Jesus. While her song has been set to music for generations and sung in weddings and other such happy occasions, we don’t know to what tune Mary first sang these words, but if you’ve ever been in a situation anything like hers then you know that the tune to which she sang her song likely wasn’t the bright, happy tune of sappy Christmas music. I imagine that her melody was different because all the best love songs will lift your spirit but they might also break your heart. I googled “Best Love Songs of All Time,” and at the top of the list is, “I will always love you,” by Dolly Parton, which is so bittersweet a song that it will rip your guts out. Do you know that song? I’ll sing it for you. Hit it, Chohee… I’m just kidding. But listen to this. This is what Dolly sang in what’s considered to be the greatest love song of all time: If I should stay, I would only Be in your way So I’ll go, but I know I’ll think of you, each step of the way. And I will always love you When you think about the history of music and all the great music you’ve ever heard, isn’t it true that some of the music that we love best are the songs that help us put into words the strong feelings of our human hearts? Take the Blues, for example. Memphis, Tennessee claims to be the home of the Blues, yet the songs and the beats came up the river from the fields where enslaved men and women sang while they worked. Songs like: Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen. Nobody knows my sorrow. Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen. Nobody knows but Jesus. Think about Taylor Swift. One of her most well-known songs goes: “When you’re 15 and somebody tells you they love you, you’re gonna believe them.” She also sings of someone who is “so casually cruel in the name of being honest,” and, “Puttin’ someone first only works when you’re in their top five, and by the way, I’m going out tonight.” The best love songs put to words all the most complicated human emotions. The heartbreak and the joy. The excitement and the sorrow. And so when I ask you to imagine the tune to which Mary sang her song so long ago, this ancient song that came forth from her soul so many years ago, I ask you to think with me about the cost of loving someone and knowing that love is going to cost you something. That’s what she expressed. Was this child the long-awaited answer to her prayer? Yes. Had she, along with all her people, been praying for a savior? Absolutely. In fact, we know that so many hoped for a Messiah named Jesus that “Jesus” was the most common name given to boys at that time. We can imagine that there were so many named Jesus at the time that the Kindergarten teachers at the Bethlehem Elementary School had to call them by their first names and last initials. Surely, there was Jesus S. and Jesus T., and you all know Jesus of Nazareth. That’s a joke, but my point is an important one. Everyone was waiting for the Savior. Everyone was praying for the Savior. Mary grew up longing for the Messiah to come so that He would get the Roman soldiers out of her neighborhood, and her mother could finally come home from the market without being harassed. She longed for the Savior who would chase out the tax collectors who were shaking down her father for his profits. Everyone wanted the Messiah to come. Everyone was praying for His birth, maybe Mary especially, for she had this song ready to sing, the perfect one to sing at His coming, but did she expect to be His teenage mother? When she was already engaged to another man? When unwed pregnant women were stoned in her streets? My friends, we pray for miracles. We pray to God for help. Yet, do not think for a second that your answered prayers are going to be all gumdrops and marshmallow dreams. Do you know that song? It’s a marshmallow world in the winter When the snow come to cover the ground Dean Martin sang it, and it’s pure fluff, which is what so many of the songs that we sing this time of year are. Our theologian in residence, Dr. Brennan Breed, Old Testament scholar and professor at Columbia Theological Seminary, sent me a meme the other day that said, There are five types of Christmas songs: 1. Look, snow! 2. I want presents! 3. Santa is in love with my mom. 4. Pour me another drink! 5. The birth of Christ has ushered in a new age and no mortal shall taste eternal death. Mary’s song fits right into number five, but many in our world are singing about snow, presents, and mommy kissing Santa Clause, yet Mary didn’t know what her parents would say. She didn’t know what Joseph, the man to whom she was engaged, was going to say. She didn’t know how the gossips in the neighborhood would respond to this young, pregnant, unmarried woman walking through the streets. Surely, part of her was ready to hide or run away. Surely, there was a big part of her that was angry at God for calling her to play such a role. Why must I be the one to make a sacrifice? Why must I be the one to put my reputation on the line? And yet, she sang, From now on, generations will call me blessed. For the Mighty One has done great things for me, And holy is his name. That’s what Mary sang. Because there can be pain even with answered prayers, for there is sacrifice with every relationship. Why should our relationship with God be any different? A good friend of mine whom you probably know, Tom Clarke, when he met and fell in love with Marjorie, knew that being in a committed relationship with her would require him to give up his lifestyle as a bartender in Colorado. Do you know what it’s like to be a bartender in Colorado? It sounds like it was awesome. Tom lived in a cabin with a stream in the back that had trout in it, so he would flyfish during the day and bartend at night. What’s more, he had a horse, only he knew that in order to settle down with Marjorie, he’d have to give all that up. That was hard for him. It wasn’t easy to even consider the sacrifice, yet today, he can’t even remember that horse’s name because, while we must sacrifice for love, the gift we receive is far greater than the cost of what we’ve given up. Think with me about love. Love that requires sacrifice. Love that only the truly great song writers have ever been able to put into words. Love that hurts. Love that requires something of us. Love that lifts us up beyond where we are and who we are to transform us into someone new. That’s what Mary was singing about. My soul magnifies the Lord. God has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly. My friends, your prayers, like love, require us to give up something, and when they do, I hope you’ll sing. And I hope you’ll sing with this church, just as Mary sang in the company of Elizabeth. Sing about those hard feelings. Sing about God’s grace. May the world be transformed by what God is doing in you. Amen.