Sowing Seeds of Joy
A sermon for the third Sunday of Advent, based on Isaiah 64:1-4, 8-11 and Luke 1:46-55.
I have a friend, Pastor Nick, who I talk to maybe once a week, sometimes more, about life, ministry, and all sorts of things. In addition to one-on-one conversations, we have a group message chat with another one of our friends, Ethan, who's doing a PhD in theology, Nick’s wife, Angie, my partner, Ian, and, funnily enough, one of Nick's youths, Justin. I usually save conversations with youth for face-to-face interactions, but I make an exception in this case, especially since Justin’s parents approve of this online theology chat.
And Justin is quite the kid. He's smart and pays attention to everything around him. He’s fascinated by God and he's been faithful in his Christian journey. He asks great questions. Most of the time, he uses the group as a sounding board for his thoughts and ideas and we’ve all come to delight in our discussions. I can't speak for anybody else, but I feel a real sense of purpose and holy work, in these conversations on Facebook messenger. They're fun and full of jokes, sure, but they're also deep and important. You can see that these talks are an important part of Justin's spiritual growth. It's an honor to get to plant seeds that you know we're going to bear fruit someday. Plus, as a member of Gen Z, he constantly makes fun of us millennials, as younger generations are wont to do. It keeps me humble.
These conversations with Justin make me wonder what the conversation between Mary and Elizabeth must have been like when Mary came to visit her much older cousin. Our gospel reading is a recording the song Mary sings when she visits Elizabeth, and in this song, you have all of the bright righteous idealism of youth, the wisdom and inspiration that can come from a young person waking up to the world around them and noticing that it is not yet what it could be. It’s a conviction that the world is about to turn and honestly, it's the kind of thing that suited to a youth. Before age and hard experience wear them down and make them more practical, or maybe more tired, teenagers are full of fire and potential. Mary’s song rings out with that fire and her pregnant belly speaks to that potential.
Elizabeth, though, must be smiling to herself as she listens to her cousin, because Elizabeth has been around the block. She's heard these kinds of ideas before, maybe even spoken them herself in the past. I can picture her sitting and listening to Mary, with one hand on her improbably pregnant belly, settling in to do what she does best in this scenario: nurturing.
Now, I don't mean to portray Mary as naive. I think Mary is exactly right and I think that our text from Isaiah backs that up. These cries for justice, this conviction that God is on the side of the poor and the oppressed, these are fundamental parts of the biblical story, parts of our Christian faith, and we can't ignore them. We can't just shake our head and say, “Oh, those kids. They'll learn one day.” No, Mary speaks the God’s honest truth right here and we have to listen to her. Her words are seeds that are planted into her son, seeds that grow into glorious fruit in his ministry. Mary’s song is important to Jesus and so it must be important to us.
But Elizabeth's role here is holy too, just as is the role Nick, Ian, Angie, Ethan, and I play in our conversations with Justin. That kid is going to go move mountains and right now, that kid needs support. That kid needs nurturing. That kid needs someone older, who has been through some of this before, to talk to and to work out ideas with. And here's the beauty of both of these stories: at no point did we or Elizabeth need a fully funded, well-attended youth group to make this nurturing happen.
Don't get me wrong. I was a faithful member of my youth group and, later, youth group counselor, and I have seen how much good work is done in a youth group. But I want for us to open our minds and our hearts to the ways that God can use us just as we are, because the truth is that we have a lot to give.
Over the summer, I took an online class about rural ministry and rural churches. The thing is, small rural churches have gifts that large suburban and urban churches don't have. We have the gift of togetherness, of church community, regardless of whether we’re meeting in person on Sunday or not. We also all know people out in the community. It's changed a little bit and recent years, but not all of our neighbors are strangers. And we know the history of our community. We can see the big picture. We have wisdom, knowledge, and patience.
But the gift that sticks out most to me is the gift of prayer. They don't do joys and concerns at big churches. Prayer is not just a spiritual discipline, it's a ministry, and rural churches are experts at this ministry. Rural churches are the storehouses of hope, faith, and joy for the Church. We're the seed banks that those other churches can visit over and over again when they need help planting.
Now, you may not be feeling like you have much stored up at all right now, I know, but I promise you that you have it. Y'all have story after story of church meals and bazaars and homecomings. You have witnessed over and over again in your lives the faithfulness of God. You have seen life come into this world and go out of it. You have witnessed so many holy things in your time. These stories, these memories, this witness is what makes y'all unique amongst all the different type of churches out there. What you have stored up in you are seeds. Each memory, each story is a seed that will flower, if we plant it right.
I know how often it seems like the world is just passing us by here in these small churches. So often we feel like Elizabeth, left out and forgotten while God's great story continues on without us. But the truth is, we are vital parts of the church and the community. We have to remember that about ourselves, even when it feels like the world around us is dark and there's not a way forward for our little church. We are vital, even if the metrics and the measurements the church uses don't exactly show it. Each of you, whether you know it or not, are out here planting seeds in the hearts of others both inside and outside of the church walls and those seeds will grow. God has promised it. Our seeds were given to us by God and that wherever God leads us to plant them, no matter how unlikely the place, they will grow. If we're faithful and true, God will turn this whole world into a garden. What a glorious day that will be.
I invite you this week to set aside time for prayer and reflection so that you can see for yourself the seeds you have stored up. What wisdom do you have that you can plant in another? What stories do you have to share that might spark joy in another? What prayers have you seen answered? What prayers do you still pray? Then, once you’ve found your seeds, go. Share them with all who will listen and watch them bloom.
Amen.