The paradox of blessedness

Mary Visits Elizabeth

 

39At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, 40where she entered Zechariah's home and greeted Elizabeth. 41When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. 42In a loud voice she exclaimed: "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! 43But why am I so favoured, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? 44As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. 45Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished!"

William Barclay discribes this passage as as a "lyrical song on the blessedness of Mary". In the life of Mary we see the paradox of blessedness. Mary was granted the blessedness of being the mother of Jesus, the Son of God. And her heart

was filled with a wonderful, trembling joy at such a great privilege. Yet that privilege and that blessedness was to be the sword to pierce her heart. It meant that one day she would see her son hanging on a cross.

To be chosen by God so often means at one and the same time a crown of joy and a cross of sorrow. I suppose brother that the piercing truth is that God does not choose us for a life of ease and comfort but for a task that will take all that the task throws at us - good or bad. God chooses us in order to use us. When Joan of Arc knew that her time was short she prayed, "I shall only last a year; use me as you can." When that is realised, the sorrows and hardships that serving God may bring are not matters for complaining; they are our glory, because all of it is endured for God.

This paradox of blessedness is something we do not often think about. We instinctively think that when bad things happen, God has abandoned us or our faith has let us down. Dear old William Barclay tells of when Richard Cameron, the Covenanter, was caught by the Dragoons. They killed him. He had beautiful hands and they cut them off and sent them to his father with a message asking if he recognised them. “They are my son’s” he said. “my own dear son’s. Good is the will of the Lord who can never wrong me or mine.”

The shadows of life were lit by the sense that they too were in the plan of God. A great Spanish saint prayed for his people, “May God deny you peace and give you glory”. A great modern preacher said, “Jesus Christ came not to make life easy but to make men great.” “It is the paradox of blessedness”, says Barclay, “that it confers on a person at one and the same time the greatest joy and the greatest task in all the world”.

Then we move to the passage which has become one of the great hymns of the church – the Magnificat. It is full, saturated with the Old Testament; it’s a bit like Hannah’s song of praise in 1 Samuel 2:1-10. Brother, we know that some people still say that religion is the opiate of the people; but, as Stanley Jones said, “the Magnificat is the most revolutionary document in the world.”

It speaks of the three revolutions of God.
1. He has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. That is a moral revolution. Our faith means that we must put pride to death, difficult as that is. When we put our lives beside Jesus’ life it sucks the last vestiges of pride from us. Barclay mentions a short story by O. Henry about a boy who was brought up in a village. In school he used to sit beside a girl and they were fond of each other. Then he went into the city and fell into evil ways. He became a pickpocket and a petty thief. One day he snatched an old lady’s purse. It was clever work and he was pleased. And then he saw coming down the street the girl whom he used to know, still sweet with the radiance of innocence. Suddenly he saw himself for the cheap, vile person he was. Burning with shame, he leaned his head against the cool iron of a lamp standard. “God”, he said, “I wish I could die.” He saw himself. Jesus Christ enables us to see ourselves as we really are and it is the deathblow to pride. The moral revolution has begun.

The next revolution in the Magnificat is referred to in the phrase, "He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble." That is a social revolution. Christianity puts an end to the world's labels and prestige. Barclay tells of Muretus, a wandering scholar in the Middle Ages. He was poor. In an Italian town he took ill and was taken to a hospital for waifs and strays. The doctors were discussing his case in Latin, never dreaming he could understand. They suggested that since he was such a worthless wanderer they might use him for medical experiments. He looked up and answered them in Latin, "Call no one worthless for whom Christ died."

 Brother, when we are reminded of what Jesus Christ has done for us it is no longer possible to speak about class distinctions. All distinctions have gone.

  

The final revolution in the Magnificat is contained in the words " He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty." This is an economic revolution. A Christian society should be the kind of place where no-one dares to have too much while others have to little. I wish I was more like that than I am. There is a loveliness in the Magnificat but there is also power - dynamite! Our Christian faith should trigger a revolution in each person and in the world but too often we loose sight of that message and get caught up in the daily grind of answering emails and attending meetings!

Mark