Mary

 St. Paul’s, Malden                                The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

I must start with a confession. I didn’t always have the greatest relationships with my mother or my mother-in-law, may they both rest in peace, primarily because we didn’t share the same interests. For instance, my mother was a scientist and a master-gardener; and my mother-in-law was the queen of hospitality and homemaking. But we also had some similarities, most especially a fierce and undying love for our children. Being a parent is the hardest vocation in the world, and one that also brings great joy. No matter your children’s age, we never stop being the parents of our children.

My parents named me Anne Louise Eaton at birth. That’s Anne with an ‘E’ and Louise was the name of my mother. My parents, however, called me Nancy for many reasons. First, they didn’t like the sound of Anne Eaton and thought that Nancy Eaton sounded better. They were also afraid that people might call me “Annie Lou”; and so they wanted to give me many options for when I got married. Actually, in the baby book,‘Nancy’ is a nickname for ‘Anne’ with an ‘E’. Who knew? And so, after years of trying to explain this to my teachers, the government, and the motor vehicle department, I changed my name to Nancy Eaton Gossling after I was married.

St. Mary, of course, had a mother, whose name was Anne with an ‘E.’ Today, as you know, Mary is famous for being the mother of Jesus or as Christians, we know her as the Mother of God. When St. Gabriel appeared in Mary’s room one day, the angel told Mary that she would bear a child, even though she was not yet married to Joseph. After only a brief challenge, when she said to Gabriel, “How can this be?” Mary then responded, “Yes, let it be unto me according to your Word.”

When I first heard this story, every fiber of my being reacted negatively. I was suspicious when Gabriel said that “the Holy Spirit would come upon Mary and overshadow her.” As a young woman, I found these words unsettling. Cynically, I thought to myself, “That’s a likely story to cover up her own premature behavior with her soon-to-be husband Joseph.” Perhaps, I had heard too many stories about women being in love with one man and forced to marry another. And so Mary’s “yes” seemed to me to be an old-school, subservient response to whatever a man desired - or her family or society demanded of her at that time. I wasn’t having it. I couldn’t relate to Luke’s story about the beginning of Mary’s motherhood.

            In recent weeks, we’ve been hearing about the story of King David and Bathsheba, and how the king used Bathsheba for his own personal pleasure, and then when he discovered that she was pregnant, the king had her husband killed in battle. Like the story of Bathsheba, I wondered if the story of Mary was no different. How much choice did women really have over 2000 years ago? What kind of protest might they be allowed to scream? And who would listen? Must a woman’s answer only be a quiet but perhaps unwilling yes? Was “no” ever allowed to be spoken to men in power? Oh, and those consequences that might then follow!

            As a mother, I wanted to teach our children, both our daughter and our son, what it meant to be a strong and faithful woman; and yet I came to realize that I could not do this alone. It took both my husband and me to teach them how to be human beings with both masculine and feminine spirits, just as Joseph and Mary did with Jesus. In fact, I realized it takes more than two parents, but rather a whole community to raise a child. It takes a whole village of mothers and fathers, of strong men and women, to teach our children what it means to say “yes” and how to say “no” with equal strength, courage, and power.

            Janet McKenzie is a strong woman and a faithful mother who paints sacred art in her studio in Vermont. Last year, at our Cathedral Church of St. Paul, we curated some of her art work in the nave. In her book called Holiness and the Feminine Spirit, Janet wrote, “My sacred art speaks through the image of women, and often through Mary. She accepted God’s invitation to do something beyond human understanding, and it is her courage that touches my heart and inspires me. She is a constant reminder of the power of maternal love.”

“I see Mary in mothers and grandmothers who are raising children, and in mothers who have lost their children. I see her in women who fight for racial and financial inequality at great peril to themselves and in women who stand up for change within government. I see her in women who work every day to make a difference, however small. I see the mother of God in women of all races and ages.”

Today, I think of my mother, my mother-in-law, and my grandmothers, through a different lens. I think of my mother’s mother, Florence, who went to an all women’s college in the early 1900’s at age 19 and of my father’s mother who called herself “Moldy Mary.” Today, I think of St. Mary, and even myself, in a very different way than I did long ago, when I was more suspicious, less understanding, too literal about scripture, and still angry about many things. As I continue to uncover pieces of my own internalized oppression, I see my ancestors with new appreciation for their courage and faith. For their abilities to say “yes” and to say “no” despite all odds.

Today, I am grateful for the gospel of Luke and his emphasis on women even 2000 years ago. Today, I hear Mary’s song in a new way. I understand her “yes” as a choice that she makes on her own, with faith and trust in God. I hear her song as a song of liberation, and see her child, not yet born, as the One who liberates us. Jesus would become her child, my brother, and my Lord. Today, through Him, I believe that we are all God’s beloved children, graciously adopted by St. Mary, our mother, and God, our Father.

My husband Paul and I like to watch movies and have recently gotten into the habit of watching Netflix. Our latest pleasure has been watching the series called “Anne with an E” which is based upon the story of Anne of Green Gables. It begins with the life of Anne growing up in a home for unwanted children, where their sadness and their hopes for adoption are real. Someday each child imagines that he or she will be adopted by a loving family and leave the orphanage. When Anne finally gets her chance, she soon discovers that there had been a mistake. This family, a sister and brother living together on a farm, wanted a boy; and so they intended to send Anne back.

Today, we are all equal heirs, and beneficiaries of Mary’s “yes.” It isn’t a whispered, “OK, I’ll do it” kind of response, but rather a full-throated song of hope and joy. Not yet knowing the struggles and triumphs of Jesus that lay ahead of them both, Mary sings this song proclaiming the greatness of God. She sings this song with complete trust, despite the fact that her own reputation is at risk and she has no blessed assurance of her own personal survival. She sings this song because she has a song to sing, and it is magnificent.

Hail Mary, she is full of grace; and she is a model for all of us. Through her we hear about God’s justice and God’s mercy, that hungry mouths will be fed, broken hearts will be comforted, and the lowly will be lifted up. From this powerless woman came this most powerful song. From her body came one new life; and from His Body came ours.

Yes, inequalities and injustices remain for everyone. And so, Mary’s song is a song for all of us. In ‘Madonna and Child - Boundless Love,’ Anita Price Baird wrote, “Mary is a woman who believes in the power of God to right wrong. Rather than succumb to the burden of her ‘yes’, she rejoiced in prayer. She is the first among the disciples. First among believers, the first one to proclaim the Good News, and first among all women. Who is this mother and child? God’s perfect gift to an imperfect world.”

Our souls can proclaim the greatness of our Lord and our spirits can rejoice in God our Savior. For God so loved the world that God gave God’s only child, born of a woman, born under the law, to suffer death upon a cross and to redeem us, so that we might receive adoption as God’s beloved children and heirs of God’s eternal promise.

Our hearts will keep on being pierced with every injustice and inequality that remains, with every sorrow and heartbreak that we endure. And yet, pierced hearts are open hearts which can ponder the mysteries of God, and respond with magnificent songs of faith, hope, and love. And so we pray with Mary and through her and in her, with intercessory prayers, trusting that Mary’s Son is close by, listening to every word that we speak.

Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou amongst women,

and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God,

pray for us sinners,

now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

St. Mary, transferred from August 15

Galatians 4:4-7

Luke 1:46-55
Psalm 34 or 34:1-9