"Quarantine Songs" A sermon for the 3rd Sunday of Advent: Sunday 13 December 2020

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13 December 2020

Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem

The Rev. Carrie Ballenger

Luke 1:46b-55

"Quarantine Songs"




 

“Let’s pray together” I said to Marge, who lay in her hospital bed propped up by many pillows. “How about the Lord’s Prayer? Do you remember how it goes?”

“Yes of course” said Marge. She sat up a bit in her bed, clasping her frail 90-year-old hands together in prayer, and began:

“I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America.”

I could hardly control my face, so I just bowed my head to look at my own folded hands as Marge continued:

“And to the republic, for which she stands, one nation, under God. And give us today our daily bread. Forgive us our sins.”

I nodded heartily in approval, thinking we were going the right direction. But then:

“What a friend we have in Jesus!”

There was a long pause. Was she done? I wondered.

Then, suddenly: “Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her King! For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.”

I looked up, and Marge had rested her head back on her pillow. I sat on the bed next to her and offered her communion wine and a wafer. Soon after, she fell asleep, and I slipped out of her room and onto the rest of my day.

I remember that as I got into my car, headed to my next pastoral visit, I thought to myself: “Wow. Just wow.” I mean, that prayer was a hot mess!

But most of all I was moved that Marge, at the end of her life, alone in a nursing home, away from her family and friends, and struggling to remember even my name, was SINGING. Marge was praising God. She was lifting her voice to the Lord. As a much younger person than Marge, I wondered: How could that be? How is it that she was still singing praises to God when she was so lonely, so old, and so sick? My thoughts turned to Psalm 137, in which the psalmist says: How can we sing the songs of the Lord in a foreign land?

As I read Mary’s song this week—the song we call the Magnificat—I had a similar thought. It occurred to me that Mary…had tested positive. She was positively going to be the mother of the Savior of the world! Her life had changed dramatically because of a momentary interaction. Nothing would ever be the same, and she didn’t know how it would end. How familiar that story feels today!

How do we, in 2020, sing the songs of the Lord in this foreign land of COVID and quarantine, in this new world of Christmas without family and without parties, of remote school and remote church and remote work? How do we sing songs of praise as we await vaccines and governmental change and a return to something resembling normal? How do we praise God when we’ve lost so many people we love, and so much of the life we love?

In the early days of the pandemic, I remember seeing a video posted by a music teacher in the US. In this video, she announced she had written a song expressing her joy and love of teaching remotely. She picked up a ukulele, played a few gentle chords, and then looked directly at the camera and just screamed at the top of her lungs! I laughed out loud, as did many others. This teacher’s silly video went viral because it so perfectly echoed the “song” many of us have had in our hearts the last 10 months, the lyrics of which are mostly:  “Why? What next?” And “When will it be over?”

Holy Scripture tells us that after the angel Gabriel visited Mary and told her she was positive, Mary went to visit Elizabeth. And there, in the home of her cousin and friend, Mary sang a song.

“Magnificat anima mea Dominum—my soul magnifies the Lord” she sang.

Her song echoes the song of Hannah from 1 Samuel: “My heart exults in the Lord, my strength is exalted in my God.”

Her song echoes the psalmists and the and the prophets of old.

Her song proclaims, in a powerful way, the goodness, strength, and mercy of a loving God: in the past, in the own present, and in the future. In spite of her challenging and unexpected circumstances, Mary sings praises to the one who was, who is, and who is to come. Like my church member Marge, Mary found her voice and used it to praise God. Today, 2,000 years later, in the midst of our own challenging and unexpected season, we can find great strength and courage in Mary’s song of praise and promise. Amen!

But even so, I notice that when Mary arrived at Elizabeth’s home, it was Elizabeth who sang first. The Scriptures say Elizabeth gave a “loud cry” and the baby in her womb danced when she saw Mary. I imagine Elizabeth jumping up from her chair on the porch of her home, dancing and singing with joy. Blessed are you! She sang. God is so good! She sang. I can see the two of them, these two women literally embodying miracles that probably didn’t feel like miracles at the time, embracing one another, giving each other strength.

In that moment, Elizabeth’s song gave birth to Mary’s song.

Which makes me think:

Often, we need others to sing with us, and sometimes even for us. We need others to sing praises to God when we can’t quite do it on our own.

In my experience, funerals are an excellent example of this. Families choose hymns very carefully for these events, and then most of the time they themselves cannot sing them. But when we cannot, the community sings. When we gather to lay loved ones to rest, our people raise their voices, singing hymns of praise and comfort and promise, reminding us of God’s goodness and mercy.

And this is the beauty of a faith community. Community gives us a foundation to stand on—and often something to push against—but it is always a place to come home to.

Sometimes that community is a church. Sometimes it is a group of friends.

Sometimes it is one friend.

And sometimes, it is Mary and Elizabeth, embracing each other on the front porch, dancing for joy.

As Jesus said, “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am there among them” (Matthew 18:20)

Our ancestors in the faith have often spoken of the blessing of community.

Our brother Henri Nouwen writes that the story of the Visitation of Mary and Elizabeth teaches him the meaning of friendship and community. “How can I ever let God’s grace fully work in my life unless I live in a community of people who can affirm it, deepen it, and strengthen it?”

Our sister Dorothy Day wrote: “We have all known the long loneliness and we have learned that the only solution is love and that love comes with community.”

And our sister Audre Lorde said: “Without community, there is no liberation.” Amen!

In other words: we need each other.

We need each other, because there are many days when songs of praise don’t just leap from our lips. There are days, especially these days, when we may not feel like praising God or thanking God or singing “Joy to the World” at the top of our lungs, not matter what time of year it is.

But as several sisters in the faith have taught me over the years, there are two times when we are to praise God: When we feel like it, and when we don’t.

Or, as the Apostle Paul said it: “Rejoice always: Again I say: rejoice!”

Even when you’re waiting. Even when you’re doubtful. Even when you’re afraid. Even when it seems things will never be the same again. Even then: Rejoice. Give thanks to God! O come, let us adore him! Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her king!

And on those days when the songs aren’t on your lips: dear friends, call on your people. Call them up. Tell them you need a holy Visitation—by Zoom. By text. By phone. Maybe write a letter with good old pen and paper! We need each other!

And, above all: Call on the Lord.

Call on God, who knows we cannot do it alone.

Who knows we need each other.

Who sent us Jesus, our brother, to walk with us. To live like us. To love like us.

To suffer with us and for us.

This God does not watch us, detached, from on high,

But has come close.

This God sits on the edge of our bed,

Offers us bread and wine,

Embraces us on the porch,

Sings with us…and sometimes for us.


For this reason, we sing together this Advent:

Our souls magnify the Lord!

God has done great things for us!

And through Christ, born in Bethlehem, crucified and risen in Jerusalem, God will be with us tomorrow, and the next day, and to the end of the age. 

Thanks be to God…Amen.


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