O Emmanuel

O Emmanuel, our Sovereign and lawgiver, the desire of all nations and their salvation: come and save us, O Christ our God.

1 Samuel 1:19-28; Psalm 113 or 122; Luke 1:46-56

“The LORD will give you a sign.  Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel.” (Isaiah 7:14)

Come and save us.  Come and save all the people I left out yesterday.

Today’s Gospel reminds me that my picture of salvation may not be God’s.  I may be thinking that salvation will look comfortable, affirming, restful.  Mary’s song says that salvation is more likely to bring overturning, chaos, reversal.  And that is indeed my experience.  Every growth period in my life is also, necessarily, a time of struggle and surprise and challenge.  It’s beautiful, but it ain’t pretty.

It can be challenging to sing this song when you are - when I am - one of the rich, the mighty, the sated.  (And don’t give me that American “I’m just getting by” stuff.  If you have access to this blog, you’re in good shape.)  But we need it, we need to sing this.  We need to hear that God is challenging us.  We can be part of the dream of God, pushing and helping, or we can get in the way and be swept away.  Either way, God is coming and dreaming - and God is bigger than I am, even with all my money and education and connections.

One of the great gifts of my life in community is that six days a week I get to sing this song with other people.  We sing it to traditional plainchant tunes, but you can sing it to anything you like.  You can make up a tune, or sing it on one note.  You can yell if you don’t like to sing.  You can bang a drum or shake a tambourine.  You can dance.  This is not a gentle lullaby.  This is a song of triumph.  My gentle liberal soul doesn’t like to want to triumph, but my Gospel heart knows there’s plenty that needs vanquishing - including my gentle liberal soul!

I want to hear feet stomping and voices chanting, people!

Send me a note telling me how you participated in Mary’s song today.  Tell me who you invited to join you and what you did.  Then tell me how it felt.

If you think this is over the top, tasteless, too embarrassing - imagine how Mary felt. 

Do it for Mary.