December 20, 2009
Grace Church
Rev. Robert E. Hensley

Micah 5:2-5a; Canticle 15; Hebrews 10:5-10; Luke 1:39-45[46-55]

      Let us pray.  Almighty God, the time of waiting is almost over. Like new parents eagerly awaiting the birth of a child, we impatiently wait with you for the birth of your Son. We stand in awe, knowing what the birth of this particular baby means for our lives yet unable to fully comprehend the depth of your love for us. We come before you in worship this morning, hoping that our thoughts, prayers and songs of praise are pleasing to you. We pray in Jesus’ name. Amen. 

      Many Grinches threaten to steal our joy and peace at Christmastime. For example, we think that we are buying just the right gift for someone, but it receives a cool reception. But the rush of the season, long lines and slow traffic replace our joy with frustration. Some relatives try our patience. After the season passes, unmet expectations dampen our spirit, and the holiday blues move in. With the arrival of the New Year, we are relieved the Christmas stress has passed instead of our being refreshed by the promise of Christ. 

      More than most of us would like to admit, we allow the craziness of the Christmas season to be the Grinch that comes into our hearts to steal our joy. However, with a new perspective, God can give us a transformed heart so that our circumstances don’t dictate our attitude. 

      The heart of the Christmas message can give you a new perspective. In essence, God says to you, “I have stepped into the world to satisfy your soul and bring you joy. That is why I sent Jesus. Circumstances and people may disappoint, but your joy, hope and expectations can be filled in me.” This is what the Christmas story is all about.  (Elizabeth Greene. “Is the Grinch stealing your Christmas?” Just Between Us, Winter 2008, 13.) 

      God is an image-breaker who sees things differently, shatters human traditions and makes contributions that are creative and constructive. In other words, God is a true iconoclast. Christmas is all about seeing things differently. Breaking all of our traditional images and getting outside the box. 

      For example, Mary’s visit to Elizabeth isn’t just a meeting between two pregnant women. It’s the introduction of a Messiah named Jesus to a prophet named John (Luke 1:39-45).  And the kick of an unborn child isn’t simply a sign of fetal vitality. It’s the muscle-flexing of John the Baptist, leaping for joy (v. 44).

      Mary’s unplanned pregnancy isn’t really a problem for her. It’s a reason to rejoice in the great things God is doing (vv. 46-49).  And the child that Mary is carrying: he will be a mighty king but not a traditional one. Instead, he will be the Messiah God uses to bring down the powerful from their thrones and lift up the lowly (v. 52). 

      Christmas shatters all of our human expectations and pushes us outside the box; including our beautifully decorated holiday box. It blows away our understandings of what usually happens when two women gather to support one another. It helps us see things differently; to see a hug between Mary and Elizabeth as a meeting between Jesus and John, a kick in the belly as a fist-bump jump of recognition, a song of praise as a celebration of God’s ability to turn the world upside down. 

      Christmas should and does turn us into iconoclasts. Yes, iconoclasts 

      That’s what the word means, literally. To be an iconoclast is to be a person who attacks traditional images, ideas or institutions. We celebrate an Iconoclastic Christmas when we accept the fact that God “has shown strength with his arm; has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. God has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; God has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty” (vv. 51-53). 

      Fundamentally, to celebrate an Iconoclastic Christmas is to worship an Iconoclastic God. 

      But don’t get the wrong idea:  image-breakers aren’t devoted to destruction, as violent as the word iconoclast might sound. In fact, the work they do is usually quite creative and constructive. According to the magazine Fast Company (October 2008), iconoclasts do what tradition-minded people say cannot be done, and they do it by seeing things differently. 

      AS an example, consider Walt Disney, a decent illustrator who could have made an easy living drawing cartoons on pieces of paper. He realized animation’s full potential when he saw his little drawings projected on the big screen. That is an example of seeing things differently. 

      Think of other people such as Bill Gates or Steve Jobs.   Or David Filo and Jerry Yang, buddies at Stanford and Ph.D. candidates in electrical engineering. They preferred tinkering with the World Wide Web instead of completing their dissertations. By attempting to organize all the Internet sites that interested them, they developed a whole new concept called “Yet Another Hierarchical Officious Oracle,” or YAHOO. They claim they were more intrigued by the definition of a “yahoo,” that is, someone who’s rude, unsophisticated and uncouth.  

      And consider Pierre M. Omidyar, who started eBay in 1995. Or Amazon’s Jeff Bezos. Or Craig Newmark, who was working as a financial analyst for Charles Schwab when he started Craigslist.  

      Then there’s Larry Page and Sergey Brin, who began a service in the mid-1990s called BackRub.com. They changed the name to Google, which is a play on the word googol, a term used to describe the number 1 with 100 zeros behind it, or, 10,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000, 000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. In other words, Google, according to the vision of Page and Brin, is a Web tool that can organize an infinite amount of information.  

      These are all our modern-day iconoclasts – image-breakers. They see things differently, shatter traditions and make contributions that are creative and constructive. 

      Which brings me to Mary and Elizabeth, who see things not for what they are but for what they might be. The conventional wisdom of the first century would trap these women in the box of second-class citizenship, with the extra constraint of shame placed on Mary, an unwed mother. But what does Elizabeth say when Mary greets her and John gives her a kick in the womb? “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb,” she says. “And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me?” (Vv. 41-43). With the help of the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth sees that God is breaking tradition and doing things differently, by sending the Lord Jesus into the world through a young girl named Mary. 

      And then there’s Mary, who, because of her knowledge of simple biology, is a total iconoclast when she believes the angel Gabriel about having a baby without a human father. That takes some thinking – or faith – that’s beyond the conventional. In our text, however, Mary responds iconoclastically. Breaking into song, she exclaims, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant” (vv. 46-48). She praises God for looking with favor on her, although she has done nothing to earn or deserve God’s attention. The gift of Jesus is a pure gift – all that she needs to do is accept it in faith and trust God to continue to work for good in her life.  

      “His mercy is for those who fear him, from generation to generation,” she sings, going on to predict how God will turn the world upside down – scattering the proud, bringing down the powerful, lifting up the lowly and feeding the hungry (vv. 50-53). She knows that God isn’t trapped by traditional ideas or institutions and will show favor to those who respect him instead of those who have the most earthly power or possessions.  

      That’s  definitely an image-breaker. Back in the first century, it was assumed that material wealth was a sign of God’s favor, while poverty signaled divine displeasure (Proverbs 14:11; 15:6). And if we are being totally honest, we do the same today, whether we practice prosperity theology or simply pass judgment on people who ask us for handouts. But Mary questions this, saying that God’s mercy is “for those who fear him” – not for those who have the biggest bank accounts.  

      Bringing her song to a big finish, Mary sings that this surprising work of God isn’t entirely unexpected. “He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy,” she belts out, “according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever” (vv. 54-55). God might appear to be a true iconoclast, to a world accustomed to the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer. But, in fact, God’s desire to turn the world upside down is grounded in “remembrance of his mercy” and “according to the promise he made to our ancestors.” The icons that God destroys are all earthly, not heavenly. 

      So what could it mean for us to celebrate an iconoclastic Christmas? Let’s get creative and constructive, seeing things not for what they are but for what they might be. You know what we’ll seethis Christmas: presents (both given and received), decorations (both understated and eye-popping), parties (both tasteful and over the top), visits from family members and friends (both enjoyable and stressful). That’s just the way things are. But Mary invites us to see things differently and to find true joy in a new place – to find it in the gift of God’s favor.  

      God really and truly loves you, and God’s affection has nothing to do with your education, your achievements, your job security, your bank account or your marital status. In fact, the surprising insight of Mary’s song is that God “has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant” (v. 48). She announces that God favors us in our lowliness, in our humility, in our simple willingness to lean on the divine. 

      That’s good news for all of us, especially in a year of economic turmoil, layoffs, investment losses and personal instability. When the world around us doesn’t seem to care, God favors us. When the future seems uncertain, God promises to do great things for us. Mary announces that God’s “mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation” and that God will never let God’s people down. 

      That’s image-breaking, expectation-shattering, and radically reassuring. And even more than that, it also happens to be true. 

      But that’s not all. According to Mary, an iconoclastic Christmas cannot be limited to new insights into our personal relationship with God. It must also include participation in what God is doing in the world. This means signing up to work with Mary’s son, Jesus, to bring down the powerful from their thrones, lift up the lowly and fill the hungry with good things (vv. 52-53). 

      Mary’s words “are a declaration,” writes Scot McKnight in Christianity Today, a declaration “from a voice at the bottom of society. It is a voice crying from the depths that God’s Messiah was finally bringing justice for the poor.” It is a voice proclaiming a new order – an order centered on Mary’s son, the One who was coming to save his people from their sins. 

      So part of our Christmas iconoclasm also has to involve taking our heads out of our holiday boxes and looking around. When the wrapping paper is cleaned up and the decorations are put away, we need to join Jesus in working for a better world, one in which the powerful are held accountable and the powerless are given support and opportunity. Each of us has a role to play, whether we’re expressing our values in the voting booth, helping a poor family find affordable housing or tutoring an immigrant in English. 

      Yes, the vision of Christmas is all about seeing what might be, instead of what is. That’s what Elizabeth did when she welcomed an unwed mother with joy. That’s what Mary did when she rejoiced in God’s favor. That’s what Jesus did when he entered the world to save us from our sins and bring justice to the poor. 

      Jesus wants us to know that we are favored by God. But he also wants us to share that love and acceptance with others, by reshaping our communities along the lines of God’s new order, with opportunity and justice for all.  Amen.

       
Sources: 

Burns, Gregory. “Iconoclasts.” Fast Company, October 2008, 54f. 

McKnight, Scot. “The Mary we never knew.” Christianity Today, December 2006. christianitytoday.com.