sermons
Advent | inspire us | The Spirit Stirs
Mary’s Shoes
Ivy Anthony
Dec 22, 2024
Yesterday was the first day of Winter and today we are here on our last Sunday of Advent. The light of our days — actual sunlight — is diminishing and *at least today’s temperature* suggests we are on a colder trajectory. I don’t know about you but I’ve noticed this in my spirit too — a little bit of dimness, a little shiver of chilliness.
Our invitation this Advent has been to explore two words, “Inspire Us.” Over the past few weeks, this short phrase has taken on the form of an embodied plea for me. “Please God Inspire me…” Sort of a catch all prayer for all the goings-on-of- life. The weeks after the election “inspire me,” was a physical prayer–
“Help me get up off the living room floor when I feel so sad and distraught…”
“Inspire Me” has been a tearful cry for some hard stuff on the home front. “Help me stay in this, help me to not give up God.”
Our cat has had 26 teeth removed over the last month?! And oddly, “Inspire Me” has been a way to hold patience and compassion for even the smallest creatures among us — in the midst of everything else.
Inspiration hasn’t felt easy — and yet I think it’s the very reason that this “Inspire Us” title and prayer has felt so timely.
“Inspire Me” is a protest prayer — to proclaim the truth that we are not meant to just endure and step into disappointment & discouragement over and over — like ill-fitting shoes. We are meant to step into goodness and hope and peace and joy — this is after all what Jesus’ arrival offered and continues to offer us.
Advent of course prepares us for the arrival of Jesus — which is a whopper of an inspiring story. But it’s inspiring not only because of Jesus’ birth, but because of the inspiration it took the generations who came before him to keep believing in the prophecies and promises that foretold a Savior’s birth. Ones that proved to hold God’s people upright over time, that kept them walking in the shoes of the Spirit — even as their own spirits were weary in a weary world.
In many ways we are still waiting for the arrival of these promises and prophecies — for their fulfillment. For “Peace on Earth”, for “Joy to the World.”
And this is the scandalous thing about Advent: it invites us to step into the legacy of those who came before us — to slip into the shoes of our ancestors of faith and walk in those footsteps — unearthing the inspiration they left behind. As we do, I think we can find again that our birthright is to be fully inspired by the Holy Spirit, not just as passive recipients, but as active co-creators with God. Jesus’ arrival wasn’t a quaint, one-time Christmas story — it’s a scrappy one that disrupts the holy order of the Roman Empire and turns this world upside down. And we are meant to be the ones who continue to fulfill these promises — to bring about the change this world desperately needs, both now and in the future.
And we need HOLY INSPIRATION to do so. We need this prayer, “Inspire Us, God!”
Today, we’ll spend some time stepping into the shoes of the faithful that have gone before us — like Mary the mother of Jesus. And we’ll wonder together just how God can Inspire Us.
Dear God, Inspire Us. And honor where we are at. Inspiration might look like rest for us — for our weary souls in a weary world, or a smile, or a quiet moment of noticing that all is not lost. Whatever inspiration looks like for us today, usher in that newness that spark just where we need it most. — Amen.
One of my favorite things to do when I was little was getting into my mom’s closet and trying on her shoes. Some were the typical “dress-up” shoes with heels and fancy buckles — but others were just ordinary shoes, sneakers — some of them smooshed from years of living underneath everything in that closet. But I didn’t care, I wanted to try all of them on because they were my moms.
I would open her sock drawer and put on sock after sock after sock — in hopes that I could layer enough, make my foot long enough to fit into those shoes — you see, I didn’t just want to flop around in them, I wanted them to fit.
We lived in an unfinished house in central Maine. I remember reaching for those shoes through the rough 2 by 4s that framed out the shelves not quite completed — as far as I could against those uninsulated walls — often with success in turning up a pair of shoes to slip into. My favorites — that got tucked away for the winter — were her favorites — a pair of Dr. Scholl’s slip-ons. Bought at a local department store — and worn through all five of her pregnancies — “the most comfortable,” she’d claim — tried and true.
Of course what made it so fun was that I was SLIPPING INTO the stories, imagined and real — of my mom’s life. Informed by photos and vignettes I’d overheard her share… I could be like her dancing on top of a table in some sort of club with a flapper costume on — or I could be gathering the little bits of this and that — that we had and we didn’t have — and magically cobbling together a meal — or tackling a stack of wood to be chopped, or twirling through the kitchen with a baby on one hip and 4 more encircling me…I could be the expressive, free-spirit she was — as well as the hard-working hustler, creative — holder-of-all-things-and-people that she always was… and is.
I’d march into the kitchen where the warmth of the wood stove and my mom’s laughter and attention would greet me.
And many times she’d say something like,
“oh you remind me of aunt so-and-so or your great-grandmother June…”
Not really a dismissal of her own likeness — but an acknowledgement that her likeness was an inheritance of many great women that had come before her.
The connection my mom makes to the generations that came before her, is not unlike the story of Mary, the mother of Jesus. The origins of Jesus’ birth story begin centuries before He arrives on the scene, in a long line of ancestors. In fact, in the Gospel of Matthew, the first 17 verses are an introduction to the genealogy that traces Jesus’ lineage through David and all the way back to Abraham (Matthew 1:1-17). This legacy also shaped Mary’s story.
Now scholars often note that when it comes to Jesus’ birth story — Matthew’s emphasis is on Joseph rather than Mary. It is to Joseph that the annunciation of Jesus’ birth comes. It is Joseph whom the angel directs to flee from Herod, and then later, to return again. In fact, in Matthew — Mary is silent. She speaks not a single word, and no one speaks directly to her. There are no emotions attributed to her, no judgments, no opinions expressed.
*Now this version of a ‘silent Mary’ falls in line with what I knew of Mary from my faith upbringing. As best I can remember Mary’s appearance was only as a mute figure in the yearly Christmas pageant. Demure. Submissive. Domesticated.* Correspondingly these values were to be embodied if one was to be a ‘good’ Christian woman in the eyes of my faith tradition.
And yet, even in this silence, *if we look closely at the genealogy* we learn a lot about Mary. What makes this genealogy unusual is that it contains the names of four women — four unusual women. These are not the exemplary and well-known women such as Sarah and Rebecca, but they are the stories of Tamar, Rahab, Ruth and Bathsheba — where each of these women *if we had time to go into each of their stories* …in some way threatened the status quo, and each in turn was threatened by that status quo. When Matthew introduces Mary’s name at the end of the genealogy, we know that she’s linked — with these other women. (thanks to Beverly Roberts Gaventa, “Mary, Mother of God” for her work on this).
These women were not just passive figures in history; they were active disruptors, challenging the established order and norms of their time — making a way for their rights and lineage to survive — and Mary is no different. Like them, she steps into a narrative that defies expectations.
Mary is from a non-descript town of Nazareth, a common girl, with a common name — yet she receives the “favor of God.”
And in Luke’s Gospel Chapter 1 we read how those words begin the birth story,
“God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee… and the angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”
Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel (again) said to her,
“Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God.”
Favor. Favor. Favor. Now this stands in stark contrast to the story we might expect in Luke, because earlier in this chapter we read of the other miraculous conception — of John the Baptist — which is preceded by the high status, priestly bloodlines, and holy virtues of his parents, Elizabeth (who’s Mary’s cousin), and Zechariah. Yet Luke says not a word about Mary’s righteousness, her faithfulness to the Law or family of origin. In fact nothing in the introduction of Mary qualifies her for this role — apart from God’s own favor given to her.
God looked with favor on Mary just as she was.
There is an unspoken value in small impoverished towns on “getting out” — on “making it!” And there’s a way (as subtext) — that if you “stay” — you are kind of a failure, you’ve amounted to nothing. My mom stayed (in the town she was born and raised in). And she raised us in that same town — my basketball coaches were her classmates — and I knew the stories of who had left and who had stayed — and the glaring value assigned to those choices.
There’s a way my mom could have felt trapped and depressed by her circumstances, many that she could not change. She could have taken on “lowliness” or “common-ness” as her identity — casting herself into a pre-written narrative — one that would seek to define her by the limiting factors surrounding her…
She never seemed to subscribe to those limits- likely in part it was the long line of women that she drew strength and wisdom from — who were creatives in their own rights — pushing against the need for a resume full of qualifications labeling them as “worthy-enough.”
And likely in great part she drew encouragement from the Spirit of God every day. As Nikki Giovanni the poet and activist who died last week says,
“the state of the world we live in is so depressing… and this is not because of the reality of the men who run it, but because it just doesn’t have to be that way. The possibilities of life are so great and beautiful that to see less wears the spirit down.”
I know my mom’s spirit was worn down at times, life was hard — but she just wasn’t interested in staying Uninspired.
She spoke a new narrative into being for her life. Often speaking against the “ways things had always been” (in churches, in schools, and a marriage) — unto a free-er future for the next generation for me — for my kids — for so many. She prayed, she went to church — but she mostly lived with the Spirit-envisioned possibility that there could be something more.
**In these recent weeks I’ve gone back to slipping into my mom’s shoes — those Dr. Scholl’s — the good ‘ole standbys of faith…. Where possibility is birthed. I’ve been on my knees in prayer, asking God specifically for the things I long for and hope for — for mercy to triumph — for goodness to win out… And I wait expectantly for some of those unseen promises to come to be … I do so in the good company of my mom and Mother Mary — and so many of you…
Understanding that Mary is part of this lineage of women who were daring and willing to defy the culture narratives written for them — makes her “favor” not just a divine blessing, but a divine subversion of the status quo. Being “chosen” by God, is a radical one, turning upside down the world’s values. This context makes the “favor” she receives even more profound — it’s not just about being chosen; it’s about how God’s favor disrupts the world’s sense of worth and power. It’s about how there’s an inheritance implanted at the core of US too — by the Holy Spirit and available to all of us.
God’s Spirit and LOVE takes up residence in our human hearts – we are the temple also of the Spirit — where something new mysteriously miraculously is birthed within us. EVEN AS WE STAND IN towns, and pre-written narratives — in a nation — that we are all done with – that we have no patience for anymore.
Mary’s reality is somewhat akin to our reality too, hers is not a blissful, copacetic existence. She is a marginalized young Jew living in the midst of a land occupied by the Roman Empire. She is disadvantaged in a world that would neither notice nor protect her. She lived in the time of Herod the Great – full of terror – “babies — innocents were being killed”. People were hungry, shelter was scarce and people lived in fear for their lives and their children’s lives.
Mary’s setting — MUCH LIKE OURS — is not a quick roadmap to inspiration.
And yet if we continue in Luke’s gospel, we see Mary speak. It’s her feminine voice that begins the Jesus birth story and she shares the longest set of words spoken by a woman in the New Testament.
Inspired by the love and favor of God, she breaks out into song and here’s the first part of her song:
(Luke 1: 46 – 50 Common English Bible)
46 Mary said, “With all my heart I glorify the Lord!
47 In the depths of who I am I rejoice in God my savior.
48 He has looked with favor on the low status of his servant.
Look! From now on, everyone will consider me highly favored
because the mighty one has done great things for me.
Holy is his name.
50 He shows mercy to everyone,
from one generation to the next,
who honors him as God.
The beginning of this song – is a song for all of us… and especially for those who like Mary – are discounted by society, pushed to the edges, invisible …It’s a song for when we think God has forgotten just how long we’ve been waiting and longing or discouraged! It’s a song that invites us to join in the ancient chorus – that sings,
“We are meant to be inspired, to be loved, and know that we are favored.”
This song was born long before Mary – she joins the ancient singers of Deborah, Miriam, Hannah who sang of their own struggles and God’s love – a song inherited by Mary.
“When Mary sings of God here — she didn’t say that God looked with favor on her virtue. She didn’t say that God looked with favor on the fact that she had tried so hard that she finally had become the ideal version of herself. No. God looked with favor on her just as she is.” (Nadia Bolz-Weber)
She says, “let it be” – and God fills HER shoes with God’s Spirit, love, encouragement and inspiration.
INSPIRATION comes from the gift of knowing God’s deep LOVE for us.
The trick of course is that it’s hard to BE, no less STAY inspired when life just crushes upon you. When you are told again and again that you actually aren’t “making it”…. When the threshold of “enough-ness” is far out of reach — whether that’s in a capitalist culture, a patriarchal society, or an unhealthy religion (not to mention the intersection points of all of those).
It forces us to clomp around in shoes that are too big for us — trying and trying to slip into other people’s shoes —- that will never fit.
AND YET ALL THE WHILE — the Spirit of God is trying to walk us right back to the birthplace of love — and FILL US — us— God’s temple of the Spirit — God is trying to fill our shoes with God’s Spirit.
A love that fits just right.
When I layered sock upon sock on my foot — trying to fit into my mom’s shoes — I hadn’t factored in that with each layer of sock — my foot was also getting progressively wider — and I actually busted out the sides, before I filled in the length.
I think it takes our hearts a little practice to be convinced that this kind of love — doesn’t waver. That it is an inheritance that knows no bounds.
My mom just turned 70 years old in September and as I joined so many others in celebrating her — I reflected on my way home of the greatest gifts I’ve received from her. Her selflessness, her merciful listening ear (I talk to her almost every day and talk relentlessly about myself) — but most of all the gift I realized, is that I know that I am, and have always been lavishly loved by her.
Can you imagine what we could imagine, create if we believed we are totally and fully loved by God?
We are co-creators with God, our lives are a canvas entrusted with the beauty and power of divine imagination.
It’s why in the Advent Guide this year we included murals from the Boston area. When I think of divine inspiration, prophetic voices — truth-telling – I think of street artists. When art is made for the community, by community members — powerful conversations and change can be afoot. I want to show you this mural, “A Legacy of Color” — it’s in Roxbury and made by two Roxbury/Boston born artists, Genaro Ortega and Luis Taforo. *I’ll give you a second to take it in.
When I went to see this mural and take pictures of it — I saw this boy putting on big shoes — thinking,
“Oh, he’s trying to fit in the shoes of someone he looks up to — but he’s got some growing to do — it’s about possibility, this next generation coming up..”
But the artist’s statement informed by the community was this —
“As we, the community, capture the essence of its own rich tapestry, we step into our own history. (The genealogy/the inheritance from which we come)…. Each of us, symbolically slipping into the well-worn shoes of those who have paved the way before us. In this moment, we embrace the stories and struggles of our past, witnessing a dynamic transition unfold; a journey of identity and empowerment. With every step, we carry the weight of our shared history, each worn path etched into the mural serving as a visual homage to the challenges we’ve overcome and the victories we’ve achieved together. This becomes a powerful metaphor for embracing our unique paths while honoring the roots that anchor us. A community of pride and honor, strides boldly into its future. Let us take pride in the footsteps we follow and the paths we create. Together, we paint a story of strength, unity, resilience, and a boundless future.” (GoFive)
A boundless future — where newness is around every corner — where blank walls and canvases are emboldened with charges of empowerment and encouragement and truth.
Mary’s song builds with this same energy, an embodied boldness, here are the last few verses:
Luke 1:51-55 (Common English Bible)
51 He has shown strength with his arm.
He has scattered those with arrogant thoughts and proud inclinations.
52 He has pulled the powerful – taken princes – down from their thrones
and lifted up the lowly.
53 He has filled the hungry with good things
and sent the rich away empty-handed.
54 He has come to the aid of his servant Israel,
remembering his mercy,
55 just as he promised to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to Abraham’s descendants forever.”
This is a powerful, wild, resilient protest song! It lays out a boundless future for the kin-dom of God to come — and Mary is speaking of it so surely, so expectantly –it’s as if she embodies and births this way of being herself…..
When Mary sings this song — she participates in this kind of maternal thinking *which goes beyond being a mother, or a parent even*, she embodies this maternal way of being that expresses concern for the protection, the well-being, the good will of not just THE CHILD OF GOD — but is a way of regarding EVERYONE as a child of God.
And we are invited to inherit (*not imitate*) Mary’s story as our own.
And some days this is all we can do, to keep trying to see the world as God sees it -even if the powerful are still on their thrones (AGAIN), and have their hands full of riches – and even as the poor and powerless are still in the trenches… Some days all we have is the legacy of those who have gone before us — holding up the promises of God’s love and presence – potential etched on the walls of our streets and in our hearts.
Mary doesn’t have the things that would make this an easier go of it for her — she has a little bit of this and a little bit of that… Priest Barbara Taylor says, “and she has the willingness to believe that the God who loves her will be part of whatever happens next—and this apparently, is enough to INSPIRE where it is her feet will tread.
Mary teaches this tiny baby Jesus – about the love of God. Her inspired song may have been the first song Jesus heard in the womb – his ear tuning to this melody.. And maybe it was the song sung throughout their home while Jesus toddled and shuffled about in Mary’s shoes …perhaps it was the lullaby she sang to him each night … and maybe this song, was the clarion call that Mary sang through the streets when Jesus went missing for three days in the temple. . . Maybe it’s what inspired the first words of his public ministry to be,
Luke 4:18-19
“The Spirit of the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the prisoners, and recovery of sight to the blind, to liberate the oppressed”.
Maybe it was the ravaged, sobbing song he heard his mom sing – or the one he hummed himself – as he died on the cross… Nevertheless it is a song he heard again and again throughout his life. And maybe one that inspired him …
Mother Mary’s song continues to be sung to us this Advent. It’s a reminder for whenever we find ourselves prone on the living room floor — or vacant of spirit — that our birthright arrived on the scene long ago —
Titus 3:4-7
“when God our savior’s kindness and love appeared,
5 when GOD saved us because of God’s mercy, not because of righteous things we had done. That God did this already through the washing of new birth and the Holy Spirit,
6 which God poured out upon us generously through Jesus Christ our savior.
7 Because of this, we are made right with God by God’s loving-favor.”
Today in our time and in our culture, we get to have our shoes filled with this goodness — with this disrupting, inspiring, reckless love of God. … and this is deeply rooted joy.
JOY TO THE WHOLE WORLD
So may we repeat,
And repeat, and repeat,
This sounding joy.
Let me pray for us:
“Maternal God, come close to us now. Keep singing to us. Show us how to love. Show us how to wait, — inspire us — so that we can deliver YOU into this world again and again.”