Week 3: Lifting Up The Lowly

(our guest blogger through advent is Rev. Hannah Hawkinson, child of the Church pastor of St. Timothy Lutheran Church in Skokie, Illinois. Her writing appears in the November/December issue of Gather magazine, published by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.)

Read Luke 1:51-53; 1 Samuel 2:1-10

There are few things I love more than “David and Goliath” stories. The little guy takes on the bully; the longshot athlete finally gets their moment of glory; a young shepherd defeats the mightiest warrior with nothing but a slingshot and some stones. Stories like these are just so satisfying. Almost like fairy tales, they offer an escape from the seemingly immovable power structures of the world.

I also love these stories because it’s so easy to imagine myself as the “David,” the little guy, the long shot. We’re all the heroes in our own stories, right? When we read “David and Goliath” stories, we don’t have to imagine ourselves in a more complex way. We are simply the hero, and that is that.

But Mary’s song invites us to consider that we have some “Goliath” in us too. Her words call us to embrace the reality that God’s reign of justice and peace will make us uncomfortable. Because God’s topsy-turvy gospel doesn’t leave any of us unchanged. “God has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly!” Mary sings. “God has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty!” These David and Goliath stories are the very core of God’s topsy-turvy gospel across all generations–including in the life of Mary’s ancestor Hannah.

Like Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel and countless women before and after her, Hannah is deeply grieved by her inability to bear children. Even though her husband is kind and loving, she feels the social pressures and shame of her barrenness. She cries out to God in prayer: “O LORD of hosts, if only you will look on the misery of your servant and remember me!” (1 Samuel 1:11)

Sure enough, God does remember Hannah and she bears a son, Samuel. Hannah, like Mary, lifts her voice in praise and thanksgiving for God’s mighty acts of justice and peace: “The bows of the mighty are broken, but the feeble gird on strength. Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread, but those who were hungry are fat with spoil.” God, Hannah declares, “raises up the poor from the dust [and] lifts the needy from the ash heap, to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor” (1 Samuel 2:4-5a, 8a).

God’s topsy-turvy gospel doesn’t leave any of us unchanged. The mighty will be brought down. The hungry, thirsty, feeble and lowly will be lifted up. But if we’re being totally honest, this radical, topsy-turvy, “David and Goliath” work of God makes many of us a bit uncomfortable, doesn’t it? We realize that we might not always be the “David.” We just might be among those rich and powerful who will be brought down.

In the face of this reality, we can certainly choose to cling to our comfort with closed fists. We can dig in our heels and refuse to join in the song of Hannah and Mary, Shiphrah and Puah, Sarah and Rebekah, Rachel and Hagar. But God calls us to a new way…a different way…a more joyful, life-giving way.

We can embrace our discomfort. We can choose to courageously give up our power and open our hands– even when it’s scary to do so. Making ourselves also vulnerable, we can join in the song. We can rejoice in the good news of God’s topsy-turvy kingdom, even when we’re not sure how we’ll get there. We can choose to join in God’s topsy-turvy work of justice and peace, even when we don’t have all the answers.

Reflection Questions

When in your life have you been “David” fighting Goliath? How has God lifted you up in moments of distress and need?

When in your life have you been “Goliath,” or part of Goliath-like systems of power? How might you begin to own this reality and step into the discomfort that comes with that?

In what ways does God’s topsy-turvy work of justice and peace make you uncomfortable? (It’s alright to admit it: turning the world right-side-up won’t leave any of us unchanged, and change is difficult!) Are there systems God’s topsy-turvy work might disrupt, or wounds it might uncover? What might it be like for you to embrace your discomfort and learn and grow, as we all participate in God’s topsy-turvy work in the world?

Hannah Hawkinson

Permission Granted

Today’s blog post is written by Pastor Jen.

I want to tell you today about the nicest phone call I’ve received in a long time.

It happened today, when a church member and friend called me about an event we were planning to attend together tonight. We had made tentative arrangements to drive together, and I thought she would be calling to either confirm or change them – but I didn’t expect what she said.

“You should just stay home tonight.”

I laughed, not really understanding, and asked her why.

“I came home,” she said, “and sat in my chair and fell asleep, and woke up without knowing what day it was or what time. And I figure if I’m that tired, then you pastors must be exhausted. So you shouldn’t even go out tonight.”

Friends, I say this with all seriousness: what grace.

I preached a sermon yesterday all about Advent, and the practice of waiting. Of being attentive to where God might be showing up in our world, and of keeping about God’s work even when we don’t see or feel God near us.

But the truth is that this season is perhaps the worst time to practice that kind of waiting. (Funny how that happens.) We are so busy, running between commitments on our calendars, rushing through long to-do lists, that we are perhaps less likely now than at any other time in the year to be paying attention like that. To be waiting.

Who has time to wait in Advent??

I recognize the hypocrisy of all of this, and I’m as guilty as the next person. So imagine my surprise and delight when this friend said: stay home.

The truth is, I’m going tonight anyway. I made a commitment to someone else to be there.

But her words gave me permission that I needed to slow down at other times today. To cancel a call, and take an hour to rest. To let a few other things slide. To make sure I took time to stretch my body and drink some extra water. To pray and to reflect on where God might be showing up in my corner of the world today.

I hope that you have someone saying those words to you as well. But if not – here they are: take time to wait. To pay attention. To listen and look for God. To be kinder and gentler to yourself this season.

Permission granted.

yours,

Pastor Jen

Permission Granted

Today’s blog post is written by Pastor Jen.

I want to tell you today about the nicest phone call I’ve received in a long time.

It happened today, when a church member and friend called me about an event we were planning to attend together tonight. We had made tentative arrangements to drive together, and I thought she would be calling to either confirm or change them – but I didn’t expect what she said.

“You should just stay home tonight.”

I laughed, not really understanding, and asked her why.

“I came home,” she said, “and sat in my chair and fell asleep, and woke up without knowing what day it was or what time. And I figure if I’m that tired, then you pastors must be exhausted. So you shouldn’t even go out tonight.”

Friends, I say this with all seriousness: what grace.

I preached a sermon yesterday all about Advent, and the practice of waiting. Of being attentive to where God might be showing up in our world, and of keeping about God’s work even when we don’t see or feel God near us.

But the truth is that this season is perhaps the worst time to practice that kind of waiting. (Funny how that happens.) We are so busy, running between commitments on our calendars, rushing through long to-do lists, that we are perhaps less likely now than at any other time in the year to be paying attention like that. To be waiting.

Who has time to wait in Advent??

I recognize the hypocrisy of all of this, and I’m as guilty as the next person. So imagine my surprise and delight when this friend said: stay home.

The truth is, I’m going tonight anyway. I made a commitment to someone else to be there.

But her words gave me permission that I needed to slow down at other times today. To cancel a call, and take an hour to rest. To let a few other things slide. To make sure I took time to stretch my body and drink some extra water. To pray and to reflect on where God might be showing up in my corner of the world today.

I hope that you have someone saying those words to you as well. But if not – here they are: take time to wait. To pay attention. To listen and look for God. To be kinder and gentler to yourself this season.

Permission granted.

yours,

Pastor Jen