There is a line in Psalm 23 that speaks of fear, danger, and
loneliness. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I
will fear no evil…” In commenting on this verse, Max Lucado tells of a young
friend of his who worked for a pharmacy while attending the University of Texas
in Austin. His job was to deliver supplies to nursing homes and local residents
who could not get out to retrieve these items.
One delivery occurred every four days. He would pick up a
large jug of water and place it on his shoulder. From there he’d walk about
fifty feet or so, behind the pharmacy, to a building on the other side of the
alley. The customer was an older woman, perhaps in her seventies, who lived
alone in the dark, sparce, and tarnished apartment. A single light bulb hung
from the ceiling. The wallpaper was stained and peeling. And every four days
Lucado’s friend would knock on the door, enter the apartment, and place the
large jug of water on her kitchen counter and remove the empty one. He’d
receive the payment from the woman, thank her politely, and then leave.
Over the weeks he began to wonder about the purchase. Why
would this woman buy water in large jugs every four days when city water was
available at a fraction of the cost? The answer? She was lonely. Indeed, she
was so lonely that she opted to spend considerably more money just to have a
regular visitor.
As we implied last week, our culture today is wedded to
rabid individualism. It affects every area of life, including our faith. One of
the first lessons in the great Bible study curriculum – The Bethel Bible Series
– is to “Think Hebrew”. Bethel makes it clear that there is a striking contrast between the way we
(Greek thinking people) think and the way the Hebrew mind processes information.
To the Hebrew the corporate is far more important than the individual. And so
it is throughout the Scriptures.
Now think of Mary and the aftermath of her divine exposure.
Gabriel, the angel most associated with divine judgment, appears to her and
remarkably dispenses divine grace. In the first four words he uses the word “grace”
twice. He announces God’s intentions. “The power of the Most High will
overshadow you. The child born to you will be called holy – the Son of God.”
Imagine her sense of fear, danger, and loneliness at the announcement. And yet,
instead of basking in her solitude, she surrenders to the urgings of the angel
and makes haste to see her equally pregnant cousin, Elizabeth. And it’s here in
the presence of Elizabeth that the full measure of God’s exposure to Mary is
realized. Simply put, without her visit to Elizabeth, there’d be no song. There’d
be no proclamation of the Gospel by Mary. There’d be no justification for her
statement in verse 38, “Behold, I am a bond slave of the Lord…”
This week in a message entitled, “The Song”, we will be
examining the aftermath of Gabriel’s visitation to Mary in Luke 1:39-56. In
preparing for Sunday’s study, you may wish to consider the following:
- What is the distance that Mary travels from Nazareth to the house of Zechariah?
- What would that journey have been like for her?
- Why does she go?
- What does the location of Zechariah’s house tell us about Gabriel’s visitation to him earlier in chapter 1?
- What does Luke mean when he says that Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit when she heard Mary’s greeting?
- How does God expose Himself to Mary through Elizabeth?
- Why is Mary’s song – the Magnificat – called the greatest Christmas carol of all time?
- What is the great shift that occurs in Mary’s song?
- How does the message of this song perfectly reflect Micah 6:6-8 and the essence of Jesus’ signature?
- What is the difference between Mary’s song and most of the Christmas carols we sing?
