Advent 4: The Response of Elizabeth
Sermon Preached by Reverend Michael Hillier on Sunday, 22 December 2024.
Luke 1.39-45
Where have we reached in our story? The angel has now visited both Mary and Joseph, and they have resolved their issues. Now, we hear about Mary’s visit to her relative, Elizabeth. So, what happened when they met? Let me read to you the story. Luke 1.39 –45.
I have omitted Mary’s response to Elizabeth, known as the Magnificat, also recognised as the Song of Hannah in the Old Testament. In this context, it pertains to Hannah’s son, Samuel, whom she never expected to have and who she viewed as God’s blessing. That is an aside, though. I don’t want to focus on the Magnificat, which is an Address in itself. Here, I want to focus on Elizabeth’s response as it has traditionally been understood. Let’s look more closely at our text.
We are first told that Mary hurriedly set out to a Judean town in the hill country. The angel Gabriel had said to her that Elizabeth was pregnant. Why set out with haste, though? Was it that she and Joseph feared repercussions from the other villagers about Mary’s pregnancy? We shall never know, but again, as I said previously, if we think about some Middle Eastern societies today and what can happen to women, fear for their lives or fear of disfigurement was a real possibility.
At the end of the Magnificat, in verse 56, we are told Mary stayed three months before returning home. Things had now settled down. People now knew that Joseph intended to marry her, and thus, they were comfortable with the outcome. It is very different to our individualistic society.
The community was of primary importance then, not the individual.
Was Elizabeth expecting Mary? We don’t know. What we do know is her reaction to Mary’s arrival. She was an older woman, married to the priest Zechariah, and therefore part of the establishment. There is, I think, a profound humility in Elizabeth. Unlike Mary, you might expect her to be ‘full of her own pregnancy’ and that she was married.
But there’s no condemnation of Mary, only understanding. It’s not sympathy—‘you’re pregnant out of wedlock; I’m sorry’—but understanding. She knew something bigger was happening here.
She recognised it related to her pregnancy in some way.
I believe Elizabeth suffered deeply due to her inability to conceive. In Jewish society, having children was vitally important; it was the reason for a woman’s existence. Had she committed some sin that caused God to do this? I think she had moved beyond that feeling of alienation from God, even if it still lingered with the community. There was profound depth to her relationship with God.
So why do I say that? Mary arrives, and the baby in Elizabeth’s womb leapt in recognition of the child Mary was carrying. Elizabeth intuitively understood this was more than just an unborn child giving a little kick.
Scholars see a link here with the twins, Jacob and Esau, in the Book of Genesis (25.22), for these two were also inextricably linked in the history of Israel. The younger Jacob was to be greater than the older Esau, even if only by a few moments, just as the younger Jesus would be greater than his older cousin, John the Baptist.
It would be so easy for Elizabeth to be ‘full of her pregnancy’ and what mother-to-be wouldn’t be! The sheer delight that you are having your child. And perhaps even resentful – here you are, finally pregnant and having a special child, and it seems another is usurping your position of honour!
But no, we are told Elizabeth was filled with the Spirit and uttered praise and thanksgiving. And there was profound humility there – why would the mother of this One who is to come visit her, Elizabeth?
We notice a profound relationship with God between these three people, Mary, Elizabeth, and Joseph, but particularly with the women. This is a far cry from simply seeing our relationship with God as going to Church and saying a few prayers, even if those prayers are said each day.
Let’s stick with Elizabeth. There is a profound relationship with God. So when she praises God, it wells up from the depths of her heart. She has lived this relationship; it informs all aspects of her life.
I think Elizabeth’s experience of and relationship with God came, as I have said, from a profound humility. Humility has nothing to do with feelings of inferiority, nor of the inverted pride of Uriah Heep, ‘I’m ‘umble I am’.
Humility is not so much an attitude towards oneself as an attitude towards God. It is recognising one’s dependence on Him in a healthy and mature sense. It is recognising that we are deeply loved by Him, not because of anything we have done, but simply because each of us is unique and a part of His creation.
This humility then flows over into the attitude we reveal towards other people who, likewise, are God’s unique creations. We see this when Elizabeth speaks to Mary.
Humility is about self-honesty, recognising my identity and place in the universe. Humility is realising that I cannot control life and my life in particular, nor am I in control of the world around me. It is allowing God to be in control, something the modern world, with its mania to be in control, cannot do.
The other thing we see with Elizabeth is her grateful heart. We live in a society where enough is never enough. Rockefeller, one of the world’s wealthiest men, was once asked when he would have enough money. ‘Just a little more,’ came the reply.
So many do not stop to give thanks for all they have but anxiously look over their shoulder to see what their neighbour has, in case they have a bit more. If we take this approach, we will never have enough, never be satisfied, and consequently never have a grateful heart.
So, how do we develop this grateful heart? I remember reading a story about a tribal elder who described his inner struggles. He said, ‘Inside of me, there are two dogs. One of the dogs is mean and evil. The other dog is good. The mean dog fights the good dog all the time.’ This tribal elder was then asked which one won. He reflected momentarily and then replied, “The one I feed the most”.
Applying this story of the two dogs to the matter in hand, if you want to have a grateful heart, you need to feed that particular dog, to put it that way. You and I need to constantly look for opportunities to thank God, even, perhaps particularly so, when things are going badly for us.
Benedict Groeschel told this story many years ago in a course I was doing, and he was leading.
His brother had been an atheist and had then come to believe in God through a compelling personal experience and then developed a terminal illness.
Groeschel had been visiting him, said goodbye, and left. Then he realised he had something else to say, so he returned. As he walked into the room, his brother had his back to him and didn’t realise he was there. Benedict Groeschel overheard him saying quietly and repeatedly, ‘Thank you, Jesus, thank you, Jesus.’
To the outsider, the non-Christian, that doesn’t make sense. After all, he was dying! What have you got to give thanks for? And yet, as we know, there’s so much to give thanks for. It wells up from a full heart that overflows with the goodness of God.
Such an attitude doesn’t happen by chance. Like a tree by the sea that points away from the breeze over the years, our heart begins to point in a particular direction because we have allowed the Spirit to give it shape.
David Steindl-Rast says that there are two parts to gratefulness. First, there is a sense of gratuitousness and wonder for all that exists. This means that when we grow in wonder, we grow in gratefulness.
Second, says Steindl-Rast, gratefulness has a sense of fullness about it. It wells up from a full heart. We have all experienced that sense of a full heart at times. It feels full to overflow like a dam that will soon burst.
But there is something else, says Steindl-Rast. Gratefulness is not merely passive, like saying ‘thanks’. In Latin, it means ‘to give thanks’ or ‘to act gratefully’. It’s not passive, it’s dynamic.
If we focus on saying ‘thank you’ many times during the day and feeding the right dog, we will start to find a shift in our thinking. We will develop a grateful heart, which will help us create a deep compassion for all that exists.
Of course, our thanks go beyond the material things, experiences, and gifts of life. Our thanks point to God, the giver of all. Bit by bit, we move to a deeper stage where we thank God, not for what He does for us but for who He is in Himself. We find ourselves thanking God and being grateful just for who He is in Himself.
So, back to where we began. Elizabeth lived her life this way. She was a woman deeply grateful to God, and this had emerged from a thankful heart. This was her response to the news that Mary was pregnant with a special baby.
Neither Elizabeth nor Mary fully comprehended the depth of meaning of what was happening at this stage, but they could see God’s hand at work in their lives because they looked for it. Both felt their hearts overflowing with thankfulness and gratitude, expressing themselves joyfully.
That special joy that comes to a mother-to-be expecting her first child.