The Rev. Joseph Farnes
Longest Night Service
At Redeemer Lutheran, Boise
“Mary”
My name is Mary. To be the mother of the Messiah is an impossible task. To say yes to an angel, knowing full-well that things are never easy for the ones God chooses. God wants a world of justice, love, and peace – and the world strongly resists those. The world proclaims that this world of God is impossible. Where there is God’s justice, then where would profitability and wealth be? Where there is God’s love, then where would contempt and power be? Where there is God’s peace, then where would hatred and falsehood be? The world seems to cling too much to profit and power and falsehood to welcome the kingdom of God.
And so I still said yes to the Angel Gabriel when he announced that God had chosen me to be the mother of Jesus Christ, the Messiah, the Lord. If the world rejects justice, love, and peace, then surely the world would reject my son, too.
And I was right.
The world too busy to let a woman give birth in safety – and so my baby was born and placed in a manger.
King Herod was so wrathful that we had to flee to Egypt as refugees – turning for safety to the land where my ancestors had been enslaved by the Pharaoh because my homeland was trying to kill my child.
Returning and watching my young child grow up into a teacher, a sage, a prophet, a healer and wonder-worker – and knowing that soon the world would work to snuff out his light.
And it did.
Betrayed by a disciple, denied by his friends, convicted by council, and condemned by the governor to be crucified. And so I followed him, my baby, to his final breath.
I was there at his first breath, and I was there at his last. Mothers aren’t supposed to suffer such grief. But I had an inkling, once the angel spoke. I had a feeling. And when that sage approached me in the Temple – that this child I held in my arms would cause upheaval and make the truth to be told – and that a sword would pierce my own soul, too. He wasn’t telling me something I didn’t already feel.
If you have grief, sit next to me. I, too, know the long shadow of grief. If you have no one whose heart is broken over your suffering, sit next to me – I’ll be your mother, and my heart will break over your suffering.
I said yes to be the mother of the Messiah – and I’ll say yes to you, too.