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LAKEWOOD UNITED CHURCH OF CHRIST
TRINITY UNITED CHURCH OF CHRIST
2601 54th Avenue South  St. Petersburg, FL  33712
On land originally inhabited by the Tocabaga
727-867-7961
lakewooducc.org
lakewooducc@gmail.com

Date: Dec. 17, 2023 Third Sunday of Advent
Scripture Lessons: Luke 1:26-38 and Luke 1:46b-55
Sermon: Star Power
Pastor:  Rev. Kim P. Wells

The James Webb telescope continues to give us stunning images of the magic and mystery of space.  Ethereal.  Enchanting.  But of course the mission of the telescope is about more than captivating images that mesmerize and delight the human eye.  The telescope is helping scientists to better understand space and thus own very own planet Earth home. 

We see these glorious images of the stars but what really is a star?  I have read a number of scientific descriptions and I still find it mysterious and enigmatic.  Apparently dust cloud swirls of elements like hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen coalesce through self gravity and ignite through thermonuclear fusion forming powerful balls of fire that emit light that travels 5.88 trillion miles per year.  The light from Polaris, the North Star, takes 320 years to reach Earth.

There are more technical ways of saying it, but stars are swirling balls of explosive energy radiating incinerating heat and light.   They have tremendous energy that transforms molecules, gases, and elements.  They are powerful, and uncontrollable.  And, of course, as we know from our sun, a star is needed to create conditions supportive of life as we know it.  

And yet we see stars as little glimmers of light shining in the night sky.  Far away pinpricks.  Like glitter strewn across the heavens.  Sparking much contemplation, poetry, philosophy, and wisdom. Japanese Manga artist, Natsuki Takaya reflects:

 “I love the stars.
Because they can’t say anything.
I love the stars.
Because they do not judge anyone.”

Yes, the stars can appear as passive and simple in their illuminating beauty. 

And when we think of Mary, we can see this heavenly aspect to the way she is portrayed.  Often with stars.  There are stars on the cloak of the Virgin of Guadalupe and she stands on the moon.  Other images of Mary also involve stars.  And she is seen as calm, pensive, steady.  A willing servant.  With an ethereal glow.

Recently a 15th century painting of Madonna and Child by Sandro Botticelli was rediscovered in a private home in the south of Italy.  It was moved there for protection during an Earthquake in 1982.  It is thought to be worth about 100 million Euros.  In the painting, Mary is sitting in a gilt chair, more of a throne really, holding the baby Jesus who tugs on her clothing.  Mary looks at the viewer, still, calm, composed, beatific.  Mouth closed.  Eyes open.  Benign.  [“Baker’s family hands back 100m Euro Botticelli they had for decades,”
Matthew Campbell, Santa Maria La Carita, The Sunday Times, 12/16/23]

We are used to seeing Mary this way.  Pondering things in her heart.  A serene maternal figure.  A source of comfort like the silent stars.  

But what about Mary’s song, the Magnificat?  It is anything but serene and still.  This hymn of the early Christians associated with Mary does not convey the peaceful reverie that we see in so many images of her.

Yes, she has submitted to God.  She has agreed to ‘Let it be.’   But this song does not portray serenity.  It portrays upheaval.  Reversal.  Energetic transformation.  Mary sings of the overturning of society, culture, and religion as we know it.  No more hierarchy.  No more patriarchy.  No more discounting of life.  Those who were on the bottom are lifted up.  The ones who were on the top are pegged down.  There is equality.  No more abuse.  No more hunger at one intersection while there is feasting down the road.  Mary’s song portrays a peace achieved as the result of tumultuous upheaval.  This is the manifesto of a revolutionary.  An insurrectionist.  Mary is the accomplice of a radical powerful God of transformation.  We hear it in these phrases:

         Strength with your arm
         scattered the proud
         deposed the mighty
         raised the lowly to a high place
         filled the hungry
         sent the rich away empty

It is not surprising that this sweeping manifesto is associated with a woman and not a man.  This was so subversive.  It could get a man in trouble.  But I imagine no one was worrying about what a woman was saying.

The magnificat presents a drastic, seismic disruption.  This is powerful imagery for the dynamic reversal of accepted life and culture.  This isn’t tinkering.  Or fixing a bug.   Or making a slight adjustment.  This is a cataclysmic reorientation of reality.  And notice that the past tense is used.  This is a song of praise to a God that has done these things.  Has created this reality.  There is no doubt.

I am imaging a world where the salary scale in a company is set up so that the person at the top can make at most 10 times what the lowest paid worker makes.  And if there is a profit at the end of the year, it goes into upgrading production and facilities and the work place.  Or the profit is equally shared as a bonus to all the employees.  The same amount for each one.  Or the company is encouraged to give the profit away to social service projects and the arts.   Things to uplift the community.  Or maybe there is no company, but a collective.

I am envisioning a world where there are no pan handlers at the end of the exit ramp.  At the busy intersection. In the parking lot at the shopping center.  Anywhere.  Ever.  And there are no houseless people or refugees.  Anywhere.  Because all people have enough to eat and a safe place to sleep.  And comprehensive health care including all reproductive healthcare.

I try to imagine a world without white male privilege.  Without the elites expecting exceptions and accommodations and to be served.  Where working people, and people with physical challenges, and people who have accents, are treated with respect and dignity. 

We’ve all seen it.  A clerk at the Social Security office is terse and dismissive with a person who has come for help.  Then someone like me is called and I am treated in a friendly manner, all concessions made to accommodate my need.  There is an eagerness to be of service. 

In the magnificat, the lowly are lifted up.  There is no more degradation for there are no longer any people who are considered ‘less than.’

This morning we want to remember that Trinity Evangelical and Reformed Church, later, Trinity United Church of Christ, was founded on Dec. 21, 1952.  In advent, a new beginning.  How appropriate!  We can well imagine those involved in establishing this new congregation being committed to equality and justice in that time.  The founding pastor, Rev. Bob Frey, was a member of Lakewood for many years after his retirement and he served as an interim minister at Lakewood.  Bob and Beth were very dear to many in the Lakewood congregation.  And Bob shared some stories about his time at Trinity.  He told of how a clergyperson from the national staff of the church was invited to preach at Trinity for a special occasion.  The person came and was hosted by the congregation and preached for the Sunday service.  After the service there was an impromptu meeting of the board the purpose of which was to entertain a motion to fire Bob Frey for inviting this guest from national.  That doesn’t sound right — until we learn that the national staff person was Black.  But the board voted to retain Bob and he did not recoil from his commitment to ending racism.  We can imagine that Bob and those who supported him had paid attention to the Magnificat.  There is no room in the song of Mary for any kind of bigotry or racism.  A church founded at Christmas knows that everyone is welcome at the manger.

The Magnificat is a radical stirring of the pot, challenging the status quo.  It is revolution.  It is disruption.  And it is re-creation.  And yet the images we see of Mary are so serene and passive.  It’s like the stars.  They look so peaceful and calm in the night sky and yet they are raging balls of fire.  The Mary of the Magnificat is hardly benign.  She is aswirl with passion for justice. 

I am thinking about Sojourner Truth and the other people who were enslaved who made their way to freedom guided by the stars.  Those glimmering lights of the night sky.  The stars were powerful guides to those seeking freedom.  They gave courage, hope, and direction to those who were seeking another world.

We are drawn in by the serene, calm images of Mary in part because we are seeking more serenity and peace in our lives.  But the witness of Mary shows us that we experience that solace and comfort and peace as a result of the passion and power of radical transformation.  To experience the calm and peace, the world needs to be changed so that peace can thrive and flourish.  This disruptive reconstruction is necessary if we are to know peace. 

This advent, let us seek this deep peace of the shining stars.  May we trust that like the power that transforms swirling clouds of dust into gleaming orbs with the power to shine light for eons, the power of Divine Love is seeking to work in our lives and the swirl of our world leading us to the freedom of peace with justice.  This advent season, may we let ourselves be drawn into the revolutionary vision of the song of Mary, the calm, blue clad passive young mother of our imagining.  Who trusts the power of the God of Love to re-create reality for all.  Mother Mary, come to us!  Speak your words of wisdom.  Amen.
___________________________
On stars, see:
https://skyandtelescope.org/astronomy-resources/what-is-a-star/
and
https://science.nasa.gov/astrophysics/focus-areas/how-do-stars-form-and-evolve/


A reasonable effort has been made to appropriately cite materials referenced in this sermon. For additional information, please contact Lakewood United Church of Christ.