Beloved of God, I invite you now to listen to
the Holy Gospel according to Luke, the first
chapter. Glory to you, O Lord. And Mary said,
My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices
in God my Savior. For he has looked with favor
on the lowly state of his servant. Surely from
now on all generations will call me blessed.
For the mighty one has done great things for
me, and holy is his name. Indeed, his mercy is
for those who fear him from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm. He has scattered
the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones
and lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry
with good things. and sent the rich away empty.
He has come to the aid of his child Israel in
remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise
he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his
descendants forever. This, beloved, is the gospel
of the Lord. Praise to you, O Christ. You may
be seated. So first, grace to you and peace from
God who calls unlikely people. Christ who unsettles
unjust systems and the Holy Spirit who keeps
singing through truth, through our human voices.
Amen. Beloved friends, what do we hear about
Mary in this text? Well, we have heard about
her obedience, her faith, her humility, and her
willingness to say yes. And all of that really
does matter. But today, as we end this Quality
of Call Summit, I want to linger with Mary, not
just as a symbol of quiet submission, but with
Mary, Mary who I see as the prophet. Mary is
a truth teller. Mary is the one who sings out
loud about God's disruptive justice. Because
Luke does not place Mary's song in a sanctuary.
It's on a doorstep. And Mary does not sing the
Magnificat from a position of safety or a position
of authority. She sings from a position of vulnerability.
She is young. She is poor. She is pregnant. She
is living under imperial rule. And she is unsure
whether the systems around her will protect her
or punish her. And yet, and yet, she sings anyway.
My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices
in God my Savior. Now before Mary names any injustices,
before she imagines the mighty falling, the Mighty
Falling, the MIGHTY FALLING, and the lowly lifted,
she claims joy. Not just shallow optimism, but
joy. Not denial. but JOY. Joy that's rooted in
trust that God is present and God is active.
Beloved, God is present and God is active here,
right now. So for all of us who have gathered
here over these past couple days, these things
from Mary really do matter. Because we lead in
a church that is shaped by fatigue, anxiety,
institutional change, and deep questions about
sustainability. Many of our colleagues and our
siblings in Christ carry more responsibility
than they get support. Many feel scrutinized
more than they are trusted. And many have learned
the hard way that joy, Joy can feel risky. But
what Mary reminds us of is that joy is not a
reward for everything working out. Joy is the
decision to believe that God is still at work
in the midst of all of these complicated realities.
So I ask you today, beloved, what would it mean
for our systems, of call, if joy, JOY, not endurance,
but joy is the baseline expectation. So Mary
continues, God has looked with favor on the lowliness
of this servant. Mary imagines God, at least
in my own holy imagination, she imagines God's
gaze not as judgment, but as delight. I think
that this matters deeply for us as leaders. Because
many leaders, especially women, our non -binary,
siblings, leaders of color. We experience the
church's gaze as conditional. We experience the
church's gaze as evaluative or maybe even suspicious.
Mary insists, though, that God's favor rests
within her loneliness, not despite her loneliness.
So for those of us who are going to continue
to shape these systems of call that we live with,
that raises some hard questions. Do our systems
communicate trust or constant assessment? Do
our leaders feel seen as whole people? Or risks
that need to be managed? Do we treat difference
as a gift? Or as a complication? You see, beloved,
quality of call begins with the conviction that
leaders are already worthy of dignity. But here's
where Mary's song sharpens. God has brought down
the powerful from their thrones and lifted up
the lowly. God has filled the hungry with good
things and sent the rich away empty. Now these
are verses that history has tried to silence,
even in the church. And these are verses that
have been banned in many places. And these are
verses that truly unsettle leadership. Because
Mary names what systems rarely do on their own.
Power, beloved, is not neutral. And hierarchy
is only holy by default. And God, I believe,
is not invested in preserving unjust arrangements.
For church leaders, this is not abstract theology.
This is theology that asks us to examine who
is consistently overworked in our systems? Who
is consistently undercompensated in our systems?
Who is encouraged to stay and who is quietly
pushed aside? Whose leadership is trusted instinctively
and whose leadership seems to always be in question?
Beloved Mary's song refuses to separate spirituality
from structure. Quality of call is not just about
care for leaders. It's about whether our systems
reflect the character of God that we so boldly
proclaim. You see, beloved, Mary imagines a reordered
world, right? where the hungry are fed with good
things, where power is not hoarded, and where
dignity is restored. Now this is not naive hope.
This is what I like to call disciplined imagination.
And it's precisely the kind of imagination that
we as leaders are called to cultivate. Because
to love the child Mary is carrying within her
womb is to love the Christ who will later overturn
tables, confront religious authority, and proclaim
good news to the poor. Beloved, the Magnificat
does not invite the church to be polite. It invites
the church to be faithful. So what does this
song ask of us? today, in the here and the now.
I believe it asks for us to believe that systems
can change. We can do that work. I believe it
asks us to listen to the voices from the margins
of leadership. I believe it asks us to measure
success not by survival, but by flourishing.
And lastly, I believe that it asks us to trust
that God's justice is not a threat to the church.
It truly is the salvation of the church. Beloved,
the Magnificat is not a solo. It's a song that's
communal. And we as leaders decide every day
whether the church will sing it LOUDLY or not
at all. So I invite you as I close, because Mary
ends her song by trusting that God will be faithful
to God's promises. Not because the world is ready,
but because God is ready. So I leave you with
these questions, and these are not accusations.
They are simply invitations. What would it look
like for our systems of call to magnify the Lord?
Where might joy become an act of resistance?
Whose voices need to be trusted more fully? And
what kind of church are we willing to become
so that EVERYONE can flourish, not just those
on the inside? Beloved, Mary did not wait for
permission to sing. So may we have the courage
to listen and the faith to join Mary's song.
Amen, and God bless you all.