NRSLuke 1
46And Mary said,
"My soul magnifies the Lord,
47and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
49for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
50His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
51He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
52He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
53he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
54He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
55according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever."
May the Lord grant you the grace and peace of this Advent season, for the sake of Jesus. Amen.
When I was a student at LSU, I took a course on Louisiana history taught by the late, great Professor Mark T. Carleton. He was at that time a very popular teacher on campus, mainly for his ability to combine sharp wit with deep insight. In one memorable lecture, Dr. Carleton summed up the history of Louisiana politics thusly: “The lean cats turn out the fat cats, whereupon the lean cats get fat and the fat cats get lean, whereupon the lean cats turn out the fat cats, and so it goes, forever and ever, amen.”
The tragi-comedy of Louisiana politics is by no means the only historical stage where fat cats and lean cats play musical chairs. The Bolsheviks who overthrew the tyranny of the Czar became themselves the bloated bureaucrats who imprisoned their own people behind a curtain of iron. Following World War I, the protest of aggrieved German patriots, who sought only to restore their country’s honor, would eventually morph into the monster of Nazism. Mao-Zedong would rally the Chinese people to transform their country from a feudal state into a world power, only to become the most infamous mass murderer in the history of the world.
The same story has played itself out hundreds of times across Central and South America, the Caribbean basin, and Africa. A charismatic leader arises to inspire the masses to armed revolution that, once successful, thereupon ensconces the former rebel leader as the strong man who, thereupon, plunders land, people, and heritage for the sole purpose of staying in power. The former states of the U.S.S.R. threw off the shackles of Moscow and have – mostly – become prey to the same corruption and oppression they knew all too well under their former masters. The whole world is watching whether the patriots of Egypt’s Tahrir Square have given birth to a new democracy or another old dictatorship. Who knows what will transpire in Syria, whether more terror or more freedom?
Way back in 1971 Pete Townshend wrote and The Who played:
I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around me
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
And I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again.
The sad fact, though, is that we’re constantly getting fooled, not just once or twice, but over and over again. We throw the bums out, but before we know it, the new boss is the same as the old boss, “And the men who spurred us on / Sit in judgment of all wrong / They decide and the shotgun sings the song.”
Is there any way for the world to take even one step forward without taking two steps back? Is there any chance that we can ever get beyond the eternal tussle of fat cats and lean cats? Does the ship of hope have a chance against the sea of cynicism that threatens to engulf us all?
Yes, yes, and again I say, yes. While I am an incorrigible optimist, and if you’ve sat with me on a budget committee, you know that I’m always seeing the glass half full, but there’s more backing up this hope than my own good cheer. The Word of God, exemplified in today’s psalm of Mary’s hope, insists that no matter how we might run the world into a ditch, God will not leave us stuck. That’s not to say that we don’t have to do anything, or that we can glibly drive creation off a cliff without any consequences. But rather, the hope grounded in God’s promise is the leverage we have for turning the world around.
Today’s psalm is the victory song of Mary that she offers up in response to the blessing bestowed on her by her kinswoman Elizabeth, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb,” who is, of course, Jesus. As baby John the Baptist plays drum on the lining of his mother’s uterus, Mary exclaims:
"My soul magnifies the Lord,
47and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant."
But some of what follows might, to untrained ears, sound more like Che Guevara than Mary the Mother of God. Mary sings of the proud being scattered in the thoughts of their hearts, the mighty being cast down from their thrones, the rich being sent away empty, while the lowly are lifted up and the hungry are filled with good things. It sounds like she’s singing about revolution, which she is, but then again, not exactly.
Mary is giving voice to what God will do, not a revolutionary hero, not the will of the people, not the unstoppable forces of history, but what God will do. God is, according to Mary’s prophecy, going to turn the world upside down and inside out, but in God’s scenario, it’s not just lean cats turning out fat cats. The new boss won’t become like the old boss, because the new boss will be the Lord Almighty, and the Lord’s goal for creation is best captured in the Hebrew word, “Shalom.”
Shalom, like its English translation peace, is a state of being that includes all the dimensions of life, as individuals, families, communities, and finally encompassing all humanity. Negatively defined, shalom is, of course, the absence of conflict, the cessation of war, whether in our bodies, minds, spirits, or collectively, in our societies and cultures. In human relations, it means the end of exploitation, whether that’s me taking you or you taking me, be it economically, politically, socially, or sexually. Shalom means no more master and slave, no more pecking orders, no more predator, no more prey. Think of the wolf living with the lamb, the leopard lying down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, with a little child in the lead (Isaiah 11:6). But positively defining shalom, just consider the Christmast story. A poor virgin handmaiden is blessed from generation to generation as the mother of our Lord. A wavering husband becomes a Rock of Gibraltar for his wife and her child. Angels summon marginal field hands (shepherds!) to come and worship at the cradle of their newborn King. Wise men from afar are called out of their old regimes to lay their gifts before the Prince of Peace. And salvation comes not with the rattle of war drums, but with a baby’s cry from his gentle mother’s lap.
This is shalom, and this is God’s sworn plan for all creation, no matter how we might try to hijack it. God’s will will be done, and our calling, our job, if you will, is to be agents of that shalom whatever our condition in life. Young or old, male or female, rich or poor, educated or uneducated, God has claimed you-me-us to be makers of peace, crafters of understanding, respecters of difference, embracers of otherness, pilgrims of hope, signs of the Kingdom that will not devolve into another form of tyranny because Jesus and not Herod, not Caesar, not the fat cats or the lean cats, but Jesus is our Lord. In the sign of the Son’s cross, God has marked us for shalom, and God knows this world needs it.
Much of the nation is still in shock from the massacre of the Newtown innocents, but already you can see a fight brewing. Lines are being drawn in the sand, people are taking sides, the lean cats are looking to turn out the fat cats, and before you know it, we’ll be hip-deep in a battle royal over how best to protect our children from gun violence. Now hold in your minds the irony of what I just said. We’re going to have a big fight over how to make peace. How can more fighting bring peace to our cities, schools, and neighborhoods? How can we fashion a civil society by being uncivil toward one another?
The answer is not in more animus, or more vitriol, or more ire. The way forward is shalom, tender, gentle, like the child born of Mary, shalom.
In the Name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
