4th Sunday
of Advent
December 21, 2014
Luke 1:46b-55; Luke
1:26-38
For almost 50
years now the jewelry store, Helzberg Diamonds, has had the same slogan, “I Am
Loved.” This by itself is remarkable in
this day and age when every company seems to need to have a new soundbite every
year, if not even more frequently change up their marketing campaign to attract
the public to their company. “I Am
Loved” came about in 1967 when the third generation president of the jeweler,
Barnett Helzberg, Jr., proposed marriage to a young lady named Shirley Bush.[1] Barnett was so excited that she accepted his
proposal that he wanted to tell the world about how loved he was. He drew up a design and started it first as a
lapel pin that simply said, “I Am Loved.”
Helzberg quickly ran out of pins as it became not just a national trend,
but even international when “I Am Loved” pins were sent to soldiers overseas
serving in the Vietnam War. For
Christmas of 1967, Helzberg offered to send a pin to any soldier free of
charge. This phrase is still found at
Helzberg’s today, and it is the message I want you to know and hear and feel this
morning: you are loved. I am loved. Say it with me: “I am loved.” Whether you feel loved or not, I want you to
know that you are loved.
Our Gospel story this
morning begins with the angel telling Mary
that she is loved. And a good thing the angel began there,
because how else would Mary take the news that she was about to become an unwed
pregnant teenager whose fiancée would probably leave her when he found
out? It’s a good thing the angel began
by essentially saying, “Mary, God loves you”!
His actual words translate as: “Rejoice!
Peace be with you! The Lord is
with you! You are favored!”[2] The sentiment is: “You are loved!” Mary is confused by this greeting, and
understandably so. It’s kind of an odd
way to say “hi.” The angel continues,
“Don’t be afraid, Mary. God is honoring
you. God has been gracious to you.”[3] The angel continues to remind Mary that she
is loved, and that’s good, because Mary will need those reminders in the months
ahead. We’re condensing the nine months
of Mary’s pregnancy to just a few days, reading about its beginning now, and
Wednesday, when we’ll read about Jesus’ birth, but in the tough times in
between, Mary will probably frequently recall the angel’s words. Joseph does, in fact, want to divorce her
after he finds out she’s pregnant. And
then in the last trimester of pregnancy she has to travel from Nazareth to
Bethlehem in order to be counted in the census.
Mary may be pregnant with Jesus, but that doesn’t mean it’s an easy
pregnancy or that everything falls into place perfectly after this. Jesus is, after all, born in a stable. Mary needs this reminder, this extraordinary
event of an angel coming to see her, as a firm reassurance that she is
loved.
Soon after this
conversation with the angel, Mary goes to visit her cousin, Elizabeth. And then we have the reading that we read
responsively this morning, what our hymnal calls the “Canticle of Mary,” or
more often called the Magnificat, the first word of the poem in Latin. For centuries of church history the Bible was
only read in Latin, and where in English we say, “My soul magnifies the Lord,”
in Latin it’s “Magnificat anima mea Dominum.” Each Scripture passage was known by the first
word, which in this case is “magnificat.”
The Magnificat, the Canticle of
Mary, is Mary’s way of saying “I am loved.”
It’s Mary taking on and accepting what the angel told her and
putting it in her own words, in the form of a song.
“My soul proclaims
the greatness of the Lord,
My spirit rejoices
in God my Savior;
for
he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.
From this day all
generations will call me blessed:
the
Almighty has done great things for me,
and
holy is his name.”[4]
This is Mary’s version
of Helzberg’s lapel pin: “I am loved.”
God loves me. He has looked with
favor on me. He has done great things
for me. He has compassion on his people. He has come to the help of his servant. God loves me.
I am loved. And with that
statement you can feel that Mary is calm and at peace. “I am the Lord’s servant. Let it be with me just as you have said.”[5] The knowledge that I am loved brings about a
certain peace, a certain calmness. The
knowledge that I am loved enables us to face whatever may come our way. It enables us to quit worrying, to quit
struggling, to just be content and rest in God’s love. “There must have been times when Mary was
frightened, worried, fearful, and sad. She may not have felt very peaceful as
she considered her future. Yet her words help us see the peace that comes when
we trust in God.”[6] She knew God loved her. She knew she could trust him. And being able to say “I am loved” gave her
peace.
How do we say “I am loved”? How do you put it in your own words? What do you say or what event do you remember
that is a reminder to you of God’s steadfast love for you? What gives you peace when you’re feeling
anxious and stressed? Perhaps it’s a
scripture verse, such as the one where Jesus says, “Come to
me, all of you who are tired from carrying heavy loads, and I will give you
rest.”[7] Or a particular event in your own life where
you know for certain God was present and promised to never leave you. Maybe there is a particular item, something
you were given perhaps, that reminds you of God’s love for you and to trust him
even in the face of troubling circumstances.
Or perhaps singing a hymn like “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” or “How Great
Thou Art” is your favorite way of saying “I am loved.”
One
of the commentaries I read for today suggested that perhaps having a personal
relationship with God “is simply to feel less afraid and more secure.
Maybe it is to trust and to be filled with a sense of great calm and to be able
to find enormous strength in the face of that which we might otherwise have
feared.”[8] The assurance that you are loved gives you a
certain quiet strength and calmness, that otherwise might not make sense. However, Paul tells us in his letter to the Philippians that God’s peace is far beyond understanding.[9] It is being calm at a time
when it would be perfectly normal and understandable to not be calm.
We as a people are
hungry for hope and love and peace and we look for it as much during the
holiday season as at any other time, as things seem to pick up the pace and
there’s the stress of finding the perfect gift and being the perfect host and
the pressure of being around family we’re not always around very often. I pray that as you prepare for Christmas your
hope is indeed renewed, that you have the reassuring knowledge that you are
loved, and that you may know that peace that passes understanding. If you’re having trouble finding it, I
suggest you come tomorrow night for our Longest Night service. Today marks the beginning of the Winter
Solstice and the darkest day of the year.
The service tomorrow recognizes that while many are
ready to sing “Joy to the World” in a few days, there are others of us who are
hurting, whether from loss, or longtime suffering, or for whatever reason just
not excited to celebrate. It’s a
gathering in the evening, as darkness comes, to worship God in the midst of
mourning. We gather to shed tears if they come, to hold hands if they are
available, and to join our voices with one another and our forebears in the
faith who still cry out, “How long?” I
encourage you to join us, to find healing in the midst of pain, light in the
midst of darkness. Come as you are. And I pray that you know this season that you are loved. I love you.
More importantly, God loves you. Please
know you are loved.
