“This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” And sudden;y there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven,  and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” (Luke 2:12-14)

            The shepherds were on the hillsides not far from Bethlehem. When you visit Bethlehem, one of the places you may be taken is the “shepherds’ fields”-two hillsides separated by a valley. The ruins of ancient churches dot one hill, as well as two chapels and an interesting cave that gives you a glimpse of what a cave dwelling may have looked like at the time of Jesus. You’ll also likely see, down in the valley, a shepherd or two grazing some sheep.

After the messenger of the Lord had explained that the Savior had been born, he encouraged the shepherds to leave behind their sheep and go to Bethlehem to see the Christ Child. They were to look for a newborn child, wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a feeding trough for animals (a manger). What a sign! They would find the Savior of the world not by a star-that was the sign for the magi-but by finding a child laid to sleep in a makeshift crib!

And then, suddenly, as if the heavens could no longer keep quiet, a host of strangers appeared singing and praising God. I wonder if you’ve seen the video of the “flash mob” singing the Hallelujah Chorus is a mall food court. An unsuspecting crowd of people are eating their lunch in the food court when one woman begins to sing, “Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hal-le-lu-jah!” Then another joins her, and another, and another, until several dozen people are singing together in perfect harmony as a stunned crowd watches. This is how I picture the angelic chorus appearing and breaking into song that first Christmas night.

In the shepherds’ fields, the heavenly chorus sang, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors.” The order of these two ideas may be important. First come praise, and then comes peace. Glory to God. Peace on earth. I find in my own life, as I praise God, I begin to experience God’s peace. When I’m frightened or anxious or feeling down, I sing hymns and choruses. Sometimes, when I remember the tune but not the words to the hymn, I make up my own words. But the act of singing God’s praise to others often gives them peace.

Years ago, while I was serving as the youth director of a church in Texas, I took the youth to do repairs at the homes of two elderly women living in a blighted south Dallas neighborhood. Some of the other homes in their neighborhood were boarded up. Some had been torn down. Some were drug houses. These women had lived in this neighborhood for decades, but the world seemed to have forgotten them.

The women were excited when we arrived. As we scraped and caulked and painted their homes, they prepared cookies and lemonade and told us stories of their lives. These women knew they were teaching the youth that day. When we left their homes they were so grateful, and our youth were filled with joy.

The following Christmas, we decided to take the kids back one night to carol for these two women. Our youth took up an offering among themselves to give the women, and from their own money they collected two hundred dollars for each woman. They all signed Christmas cards for the women and tucked the money inside.

I’ll never forget what happened at one of these homes. We emptied the bus, and forty-five youth stood around the doorstep of Miss Violet’s home. We began to sing, and as we did it seemed the whole neighborhood came outside to see what was happening. It had been a long time since any of them had seen a caroler on that street. Miss Violet turned on the front light and slowly opened the door as we sang. Then one of the youth stepped forward and presented her with gifts and the cards. The young woman said, “Miss Violet, we came to remind you that God loves you. These gifts are a sign of his love and ours, too. Merry Christmas!”

Miss Violet stood there, dumbfounded. Her hands shaking, she opened the card and read it, then looked at the money that fell into her hands. Tears began to roll down her cheeks, and she said in almost a whisper, “Ever since my husband died, I thought God had forgotten me. Tonight, you reminded me that he still remembers I’m here.” It was one of the most moving experiences in my ministry at that church.

I wonder if this is what the night-shift shepherds felt that night, as the heavenly host sang carols to them.

 

Lord, help me to be one of your angels, reminding others of the “good news of great joy” that is Christmas. Help me, with my words and deeds, to be a visible sign that you love those around me.  Amen. 

            In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see-I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.” (Luke 2:8-11)

   

            While the shepherds were watching over their flocks, a messenger from God appeared to them. The sight of a complete stranger in the middle of the night on a hillside in Bethlehem would have been enough to startle these shepherds, but Luke also tells us “the glory of the Lord shone around them.” What is the glory of the Lord? Sometimes in Scripture the expression is synonymous with God’s presence, sometimes his character, sometimes his attributes. There are times, however, when God’s glory refers to something visible, and this seems to be the case here. What did it look like? Luke doesn’t tell us, but Exodus 24:17 notes that “the appearance of the glory of the Lord was like a devouring fire.” Ezekiel, when he saw the glory of the Lord, described “something that looked like fire, “followed by a rainbow (1:27-28). Whatever the shepherds saw, their response was to be “sore afraid” (Luke 2:9 KJV).

But the angel told them not to be afraid, for he was bringing them “good news of great joy for all the people.” I love that phrase. What is the good news? It is the fact that a Savior had come to rule the earth.

The Greek word for savior, soter, means one who offers help and deliverance for those in trouble. Warriors, rulers, even some of the Greco-Roman gods were considered saviors. In Luke’s story, the night-shift shepherds were being invited to see the newborn Savior, King, and Lord.

Christmas celebrates the birth of the one who came to save the human race from sin. Remember, sin is the propensity to do, and the actually doing of, those things that are counter to God’s will in our individual lives and collectively as a race. Jesus came to save us from judgment, from separation fro God, from guilt and shame. But he also came to show us a different way to live-to show us what it means to be human and what God’s will is for our lives. He came to invite us to follow him, to be changed by him, and thus to be saved by him.

A group of former prostitutes and drug addicts arrive at our church by van each week for worship. They come from one of our urban ministry partners called the Healing House. I love this ministry and the women, and some men, who are a part of it. Bobbi Jo is the founder. A former prostitute and addict, she describes her life before she came to faith in Christ: She had been on the streets for years, during which time she had been raped sixteen times and had twenty-four broken bones. Ultimately she ended up in detox, and about that time Bobbi Jo finally asked God to help her, deliver her, and save her. And God did. She found hope and strength, and her heart and life began to change. When her mother died, Bobbi Jo was left with a small inheritance that she used to start the Healing House.

Today, seventy people live in the three buildings that are part of this ministry. These women and men have come to a place where they, too, are asking God to save them. They are seeing him change their lives. In turn they seek to live as followers of Jesus, and the world is changed by this. Each of their lives is like a stone cast into a pond: the ripple expand in every direction.

Every time I see this group in worship, I feel as if they are living, breathing testimony to the good news of great joy to all the people, that at the first Christmas a child was born to be the Savior, the Messiah, the Lord.

Christ still saves us. He forgives, heals, and changes, us. He is still Lord, calling us to follow him each day of our lives. Take a moment today to invite him to continue saving you form the ways in which you stray from God’s path, and pledge to follow him as your Lord.

Jesus, save me. Save me from the guilt I sometimes feel for my past sins and mistakes. Forgive me. And Jesus, save me from my tendency to turn from God’s path today and every day. I wish to follow you as my Lord. Lead me on your path. Amen.

            It’s likely that Mary and Joseph had remained in Nazareth so Mary could give birth in her hometown before moving to Bethlehem. But just weeks before Mary was to give birth, a Roman census make it necessary for the young couple to make their way from Nazareth to Bethlehem.

            Most scholars say there were two routes Mary and Joseph might have taken to Bethlehem. The first route would have taken them to the east along the Jordan River, then west to Bethlehem. The second route, and the one I think likely, is shown on the map as a solid line and was the more direct route. It went through the Jezreel Valley and along the Way of the Patriarchs, right through Samaria and the heart of the country.

The first part of their trip would have taken about three days, over sloping mountains and hills, with nothing really difficult in the terrain. They would have traveled past hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of olive trees. It certainly was fitting, for olive oil was used to anoint the high priest and the king, and Jesus had been chosen by God to lead his people and rule forever on the throne of David. The very word Messiah, or Christ, means anointed one.

Soon they would have come to the village of Sychar, in the heart of the ancient Samarian countryside. After leaving Sychar, their journey would have become more difficult. After perhaps nine days, the holy family would have found themselves in the beautiful but treacherous Judean wilderness.

How do you think Mary felt when, just a day and a half short of their destination, she and Joseph arrived at the wilderness? I can almost hear to say, “I can’t go any farther, Joseph. I can’t do it anymore.” This was a trip that she was Joseph didn’t want to make. Yet, in the midst of the exhausting journey, amid the deferred dreams and the dashed hopes, God was working to redeem the world.

After a difficult day and a half, they reached a stable in Joseph’s hometown of Bethlehem. In hindsight we can see what Mary couldn’t as she entered that stable, her contractions getting closer and closer together. She couldn’t hear the angels sing, couldn’t see the shepherds run to the stable, couldn’t know that the magi were on their way with gifts to the little king. But she had hope.

Hope is a decision we make, a choice to believe that God can take the adversity, disappointment, heartache, and pain of our journeys and use these to accomplish his purposes. This is precisely what happened in Mary’s story, where, on the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem and then in a stable among the animals, we see hope born in the midst of disappointment. We want to whisper to Mary, “don’t cry. God is here, even among the animals. People will draw hope from your story until the end of time.”

I invite you, regardless of where you are on the road, to choose hope, to have faith, to trust that your difficult journeys will never be the end of the story because God is by your side. Hear the song that all heaven and nature sing as the Christ-child is born. Invite God to use your disappointments to accomplish his purposes.

It was just such hope, I believe, that kept Mary going on that long, difficult journey to Bethlehem.

            In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. (Luke 2:8)

                       

            Garrison Keillor writes the following descriptions of shepherds in his foreword to Ron Parker’s The Sheep Book: A Handbook for the Modern Shepherd: “They are gentle and attentive people and good company…shepherding is an ancient scientific culture and teaches people more than they intended to learn and brings out qualities in them they might not attain directly through moral ambition.”

In Jesus’ time, shepherds were absolutely essential suppliers of wool, milk, meat, and sacrifices; but they were not held in high esteem among the townsfolk. Some people considered them backward and simple, and they were often seen as uneducated, unsophisticated, and unclean. In speaking with Palestinians in Bethlehem during my recent trip, I was surprised to learn that this is still how shepherds are seen among many people to this day. Perhaps this is the very reason that God had an affinity for shepherds. God, like Garth Brooks, seems to enjoy “friends in low places.”

What else do we learn about the shepherds in our story? We know these men were the night-shift shepherds named Ibrahim and his family, who make their living by keeping a dozen or so sheep in and around Bethlehem. Their humble state was evident as we talked. I asked Ibrahim why God chose to invite the shepherds to be the first to see and celebrate the birth of Jesus. He responded instantly, “Because Jesus was humble, and shepherds are humble.”

It may be that some of you reading this are thinking, “This author is like a broken record-in nearly every reflection he mentions God’s choice of the humble in the Christmas story.” But I don’t believe this is my theme; it seems to be God’s theme. The theme plays out over and over again in the story-from the choice of Mary of Nazareth, to the choice of a simple tekton in Bethlehem, to the song that Mary sang about the way God fills the hungry with good things, to the birth in a stable, to the choice of night-shift shepherds as the first people invited to celebrate the birth of Jesus.

James captures this idea when, quoting Proverb 3:34, he writes, “God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6). The response that this idea is meant to evoke is captured in James 4:10: “Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you.” The apostle Paul offers similar words of admonition in Philippians 2:3: “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves.”

Among the people I know who exemplify this spirit is a physician in Kansas City named Gary Morsch. Gary is one of the founders of Heart to Heart, an organization that delivers medical supplies and more to impoverished countries and disaster areas. One of Gary’s lessons in humility came when he went to visit Mother Teresa’s mission in Calcutta, India. He and his team arrived to deliver medicine and to care for patients at the Home for the Dying and Destitute. Gary, stethoscope around his neck, introduced himself to Sister Priscilla as a physician from the United States who was ready to help the sisters. She said, “Follow me please,” and proceeded to escort him through the wards of dying people to the kitchen, where there was a large pile of putrefying garbage. She said to him, “We need you to take this garbage to the dump. The dump is several blocks down the street.”

In an instant, doctor was demoted to garbage man. As Gary made trip after trip to the dump, he began to feel sorry for himself, resenting the fact that he had come all the way to Calcutta, delivered millions of dollars in medicine, was a physician with a stethoscope in his back pocket to prove it, and yet was hauling garbage. After having done this for several hours, he noticed a small sign with Mother Teresa’s famous words: “We can do no great things, only small things with great love.” It was then that he understood why he had been assigned garbage duty. It was God’s way of teaching him humility, servanthood, and love.

If God chose night-shift shepherds to be the first to celebrate the birth of Christ, what might that tell you about the attitude of heart that God is looking for from you and me?

            Lord, thank you that you humble the proud and give grace to the humble. Help me to humble myself before you and to do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility to consider others better than myself. Amen.

            While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. (Luke 2: 6-7)

   

            After ten days of travel, Joseph and Mary finally arrived in Bethlehem. But upon arriving, the young couple found the local inn overcrowded, so Mary was forced to give birth in a barn. Right? Maybe, but maybe not.

The word translated in most English versions as “inn” is the Greek word kataluma. This word can also be, and perhaps should be, translated as “guest room.” The word appears in two other places in the New Testament, in Mark and Luke, when Jesus tells his disciples on Thursday of Holy Week to find the owner of a particular house and ask, “Where is the guest room (kataluma) where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?” The word referred to an extra room in the house.

I’ve suggested that Joseph was from Bethlehem. Why would he need an inn if his family lived there? He would not. Many scholars also suggest it is unlikely that there was an inn in Bethlehem. A better translation of Luke 2:7 might be that she laid him in a manger because “there was no place for them in the guest room.”

Joseph’s entire family would have been required to return to Bethlehem for the census. Most would have arrived before Mary and Joseph, so the guest room likely would already have had two or three families staying in it. But there also would have ben a stable or barn in the house-tradition says it was a cave like the one at Mary’s home in Nazareth. It makes sense to think that Mary and Joseph would have been afforded greater privacy, and would have avoided making the rest of the house ceremonially unclean, by staying in that stable or barn. Therefore Mary laid her son in a manger, because “there was no place for them in the guest room.”

Luke doesn’t explain all this to us. That is not his point. What he wants us to notice is that Mary gave birth in a makeshift shelter, and Jesus’ first bed was a feeding trough. The King of kings was born to a young couple whose income placed them on the lowest rung of society, and he was born homeless.

Christianity speaks of Jesus’ birth as the “Incarnation”; that is, in Jesus, God came and lived among us. Jesus’ birth, life, teachings, death, and resurrection all show us God’s heart and character. In Jesus’ birthplace, we see that the God of the universe identifies with the lowly. This leads me to love him even more. This is the glory of God that we see in Jesus Christ-humility, compassion, mercy, tenderness, and lowliness.

Today, as many as 3.5 million Americans are homeless at some point during the year. Of these, thirty-nine percent are under the age of eighteen. A surprising number of homeless women are pregnant. Part of God’s message in Christmas is intended for those who are homeless or nearly so. In Christmas, God says to them, “When I came to walk on earth, I was born in a stable, to two teenage parents who had nowhere else to stay.”

As you prepare for Christmas you’ve likely been shopping, trying to buy gifts for people who already have all they need. What if this year you gave gifts in honor of your friends and family to help people who really are in need? My friend, Pastor Mike Slaughter, likes to remind his congregation, “Christmas is not your birthday!” He challenges everyone in his congregation to give to the poor each Christmas an amount equal to what they will spend on their family. My wife LaVon and I began doing this several years ago. Our decision acts as a governor on what we spend for our family, keeps us focused on what Christmas is really about, and fills us with the joy of knowing we are helping others.

I challenge you to consider doing this in your own life or with your family. Your local church likely has suggestions for you of projects to serve those in need this Christmas.

Lord, I am humbled that you came to us as a child born in a stable and laid to sleep in a manger. Help me to see those in need as you see them, and this Christmas to serve as your hands and voice to bless them in your name.  Amen.

In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went  from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom be was engaged and who was expecting a child (Luke 2: 1-5)

       

            We come to the journey Mary and Joseph made from Nazareth to Bethlehem, when Mary was “great with child.” This certainly was not a journey that Mary and Joseph wanted to take. They undoubtedly had planned to have the baby in Nazareth. The midwife would have been chosen and the birthing room prepared. But when the Roman emperor commanded that a census be taken, he wasn’t concerned about a Jewish family preparing to give birth. He was interested in assessing taxes.

In the fall of 2010, I retraced the journey of Mary and Joseph by following the most direct route from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Along the way I was struck by how difficult the journey must have been for Mary, and how disappointing. I was also reminded that this was only the first of several journeys she did not want to take with Jesus. She would also flee as a refugee to Egypt when Herod sought to kill the child. And years later she would make the same journey from Nazareth with Jesus, as he went to Jerusalem where he would be nailed to a cross.

Like Mary, all of us find ourselves forced to take journeys we do not wish to make. These journeys are not prescribed by God but by life’s circumstances or the will of others. In the midst of them we may be disappointed, wonder if we’ve been abandoned by God, or simply feel confused as to why we’ve had to travel such roads. Perhaps Mary felt some of these same emotions on the journey to Bethlehem.

But here’s what we find in Scripture and what is echoed in our won lives: God does not abandon us while we’re on these journeys. Somehow, in ways we never anticipated, he even works through them. We look back years later and can see how God took adversity, disappointment, and pain and used these very things to accomplish his purposes.

Ann was five months pregnant when she senses that something was not right. After an amniocentesis, doctors diagnosed her unborn baby with a genetic condition called “Chromosome 22 Ring.” At the time, very few other cases were known. The doctors told Ann and her husband, Jerry, that their child would likely be stillborn. When she asked about delivering the child early so doctors might have a chance to perform a surgery that might save his life, the doctors came back and said, “Ann, this will not be a life worth saving.” Ann and Jerry would remember those words many times over the years.

Matthew was born in January 1984. Ann and Jerry chose the name Matthew because it means “gift from the Lord.” Matthew was born with several serious birth defects, but he lived. This was not a journey Ann and Jerry had anticipated or would have desired to make, but it was the journey life had dealt them, and they were grateful for their son.

I first met Matthew when he was eight. His mom and dad visited our church, and out of that visit our church started a ministry for Matthew and children like him,  a special-needs ministry that we named about him: Matthew’s Ministry. Later, when Matthew needed surgery, knowing he would need blood, his surgery prompted us to start an annual blood drive.

Matthew died at the age of twenty-one. His life shaped Ann and Jerry into two of the most remarkable people I know. And Matthew changed thousands of other lives. Today, over 140 special-needs children and adults are a part of our Matthew’s Ministry. Annually in our blood drives we collect over fifteen hundred pints of blood for people in the Kansas City area. Our church and community were changed as a result of this child whose life “wasn’t worth saving.”

God’s greatest work often arises out of the journeys we don’t want to take. God has a way of wringing good from disappointment, suffering, and pain. This is what Ann and Jerry found. It is what Joseph and Mary came to see again and again. Look back over your life. Can you see how God brought good from adversity? If you are on such a journey right now, trust God to walk with you and to bring good from it.

            Lord, thank you for the way you bring good from suffering. Please help me to remember that you promised never to leave me nor forsake me. Bring good from the adversity in my life, and grant me your peace when I take those journeys I don’t want to take. Amen.

 All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee. (Luke 2: 3-4)

    

            In Matthew, we last saw Joseph in Bethlehem. In Luke, Mary was with Elizabeth. Matthews tells us that when Joseph awoke from the dream in which he was instructed to wed Mary, “he did what the angel of the Lord commanded him” and took Mary home as his wife. The text presupposes, I believe, that this took place in Bethlehem. Yet Luke tells us they ended up in Nazareth; for, as Mary’s pregnancy drew to a close, a census required them to travel to Bethlehem. So, were they married in Bethlehem or Nazareth? My reading of Scripture suggests that after spending three months at Ein Karem with Elizabeth, Mary returned to Nazareth, Joseph joined her, and they were married in Nazareth in a “hurry up” wedding.

I officiated at the wedding of our oldest daughter, Danielle, a couple of years ago. It was an exciting and emotional time. She invited us to join her in picking out flowers, planning the menu for the reception, and selecting her dress. Invitations, reservations, and a thousand other details went into planning of the wedding, most of which were carried out by my wife and daughter. I had the joy of writing the check! The night of rehearsal I was a wreck. I kept thinking back to the times when Danielle was little, and I would dance with her in my arms, or the time she told me I was her hero, or the way she said she would love me “form here to Jupiter and back again.” And now I was giving her away. I still get emotional thinking about it.

We can be sure that Mary and Joseph’s wedding did not take place the way anyone had planned. The original plans would have been canceled and a hasty wedding and reception put together. Guests would have understood why the wedding date was moved up. They would have believed that Joseph had taken advantage of Mary or that Mary and Joseph had been unable to control their passions. This would have been the gossip of the town and perhaps a source of embarrassment to Mary’s parents.

Yet Mary and Joseph had done nothing wrong. In fact, they were models of faithfulness and devotion to God. They were obedient, and their obedience came at great personal cost. Yet others could not understand this.

Have you ever done something that you felt God was calling you to do but caused others to question your motives, integrity, or actions? Or perhaps you’ve had people gossip about you. If so, you are in good company. This surely would have been a part of Mary and Joseph’s story.

The truth is, it is human nature to pass judgment on others, to share “juicy” gossip, and to assume the worst about others. Perhaps this story, and our won experiences, might lead us to recall the words of Jesus when he taught his followers to “take the log out of your own eye” before taking the splinter out of your neighbor’s eye. He taught them to “do not judge, so that you may not be judged.” And he told them, “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.” Is it possible these words of Jesus were shaped in part by the way people whispered about his mother when was just a child?

Lord, help me not to judge others nor participate in gossip. And help me to forgive when others have questioned my motives, my actions, or my heart. Amen.  

And Mary remained with her about three months and then returned to her home. (Luke 1: 56)

                   

            On the approach to the Church of the Visitation in Ein Karem, Israel, the hillsides are covered with olive trees. The church itself is built atop an ancient cistern where it is claimed Mary drew water for Elizabeth. The church celebrates the role these two women played in each other’s live. Frescoes, mosaics, paintings, and sculptures abound showing Mary and Elizabeth together. Elizabeth was probably in her late fifties or early sixties when Mary came to visit and was in her sixth month of pregnancy. (She was beyond natural childbearing years, and it is implied in Luke that she only became pregnant by the miraculous intervention of God.) Mary was likely thirteen and was just beginning her first month of pregnancy.

Mary stayed with Elizabeth for the final three months of Elizabeth’s pregnancy. One can imagine Mary helping with things around the home, doing all the things Elizabeth may typically have done. Elizabeth undoubtedly found Mary a help both physically and emotionally. The two women shared in common unusual pregnancies that could only be explained as the act of God.

Mary found great joy an comfort in being with her older cousin Elizabeth. Here was a motherly (or grandmotherly) figure who loved Mary, encouraged and mentored her, and helped her through those first three months of pregnancy. Each needed the other. Each was blessed by the other.

The Church of the Visitation is a celebration of women’s friendships, their sisterhood, and the close bonds that are possible when women care for one another. Those themes can be seen in the art adorning the building, such as a bronze sculpture of the two women, one barely showing her pregnancy and the other well along, that sits in the courtyard outside the church. I found it interesting to stand watching the pilgrims and tourists coming to visit. The vast majority were women. I observed a bus full of African women as they arrived, dressed colorfully and filled with laughter. They would look at the statue and then take each other’s hands, or embrace, and you could see the love and friendship they shared. I was asked to come and take their pictures as they stood-smiling, laughing, sharing together-next to the statue of Mary and Elizabeth.

It struck me as I stood there that Elizabeth and Mary’s story points to the importance of having friendships that span generations. The older mentor the younger, and the younger encourage and bring vitality to the older. The older bring wisdom, the younger energy, dreams, and fresh perspectives.

This is not important just to women, but to men as well. I have had several older mentors through the years, men who encouraged me, invested in me, and counseled me. I have had the privilege of seeking to encourage, befriend, and bless them as well. As I moved into my forties, I found myself being approached by younger pastors who were looking for mentors, and I became conscious of the fact that at some point our task is to invest in and encourage a new generation.

Among the women I know who have been amazing Elizabeths is a woman named Marty Mather. Marty is in her early eighties but shows no signs of slowing down. She teaches multiple Bible studies and corresponds with dozens or even hundreds of people. She is constantly pouring wisdom and encouragement into the lives of others.

Among Marty’s gifts is baking the most delicious homemade bread you could ever eat. She invited groups of younger women to join her bread-baking classes. After handing out her recipe and teaching her pupils how to prepare the dough, she has them leave it to rise, and during that time she gathers them in a circle and invites them to share their stories. Then she shares her own story, including the story of her deep Methodist faith.

Marty’s boundless energy comes from these younger women (and men) whom she mentors and encourages. She is blessed by friendships. And those who sit under her tutelage find that they have an amazing treasure in her love, encouragement, and wisdom.

We all need an Elizabeth we can turn to for advice, wisdom, and encouragement. And we’re all called to be an Elizabeth for someone else-to invest in that person and pass on what we’ve learned. Do you have an Elizabeth? And who is the Mary you are mentoring?

            Lord, thank you for those older than I am who have invested in my life. Help me to encourage and bless those who are my seniors. But help me too, Lord, to bless and encourage those who are younger than I.  Amen.

For he had looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty one has done great things for me, and holy is his name. his mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful form their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. (Luke 1: 48-53)

                    After hearing Elizabeth’s blessing, Mary broke out into a song of joy. She cried out, “my soul magnifies the Lord!” But many stop at the opening line and fail to realize how subversive, even revolutionary, Mary’s song really was. Remember, Mary was a thirteen-year-old peasant girl from a town of people who were on the lower rungs of the socioeconomic ladder. It was Herod and his supporters, along with the Romans and those of the upper class who were allied with them, who ruled the land. Yet God chose Mary to give birth to the messianic king.

I think back to the wedding of Prince William and Princess Kate in the spring of 2011. Now, there was a princess of a respected family. But Mary? She was from Nazareth. She was a nobody. But she understood that this was God’s way. He chose as the mother of his Son a lowly peasant girl form a working-class family. Can you feel her utter amazement, her joy?

Mary’s psalm began to take on a revolutionary note when she sang, “He has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly.” As I read these words I think, “Yes, that is how God works. ‘He humbles the proud but gives grace to the humble.’” The proud had it coming. I immediately think of the tyrants in the Middle East who were overthrown in what was dubbed the Facebook Revolution in the spring of 2011.

The next two lines of Mary’s song always leave me feeling disturbed: “He has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.” It is one thing to speak of God humbling the proud, but sending the rich away empty? This begins to fell uncomfortable. Today, many would read this line to be suggesting a redistribution of wealth and might accuse Mary of the “s-word”: socialism.

Mary’s words should make us uncomfortable. They point to a concern God has for the poor, and a sense that the rich have received theirs already. Since the income of the average American puts us in the top five per capita income in the world, most of us are “rich.” Here’s how I read these words in Mary’s song. They are a reminder of something Jesus said later: “To whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded.” Jesus’ words are a reminder of the call upon Abraham, who was “blessed to be a blessing.”

To the degree that we earn our money unjustly, or hoard it without being willing to share, we do have reason to be anxious about the day when we give an account of our lives. Nut we have a choice. We can choose to “do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with {our} God.” We have the obligation and the calling to be used by God to “{fill} the hungry with good things.” When we do these things, we need not fear being sent away empty.

When I think of Mary’s song, I’m reminded of a young woman named Gracie. At the age of eleven she heard me preach about the people in southern Africa and our church’s plans to build fish ponds in rural African villages, so the hungry could be fed. Her heart was touched. Gracie had been taking voice lessons and, at age eleven, was already writing songs. She asked her parents if she could record a CD and sell it to her friends and family to raise money for fish ponds. God blessed her efforts, and Gracie had the opportunity to sing in various churches and events. As of the writing of this book, Gracie is thirteen, about the age of Mary likely was when she went to Elizabeth, and so far Gracie has raised twenty thousand dollars to build two fish ponds in Africa and to support an orphanage with twelve boys in Haiti.

Gracie’s songs, and what she’s done with the proceeds of her CD sales, are a picture of what Mary’s song looks like lived out. How might God be calling you to use your gifts to send the hungry away filled?

            Lord, help me to see how I might use the gifts you’ve given me to “do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly” with you. Help me, like Gracie, to send hungry away filled.