26.08.2025
Saint Francis
The Two-Fold Gift of Mary, Mother of Jesus: Serenity and Courage
Sermon for August 17, 2025
The Feast of Mary, Mother of Jesus - Pr. Bea Chun, St. Francis Lutheran Church
Grace to you and peace
from the One who is,
and the One who was,
and the One who is to come.
Today we are taking a short break
from our sermon series on the Book of Revelation.
Today we are observing the Feast of Mary, Mother of Jesus.
The Church keeps this feast every year on August 15,
and we are celebrating it today, on the Sunday closest to that date.
But even though we are stepping away from Revelation for a week,
Revelation is still very much in the back of my mind.
I have been spending so much time
living with this amazing book recently,
that I can’t help but filter other texts through its lens.
And here is where I see the connection:
The Saints in Revelation
One of the most striking features of the Book of Revelation
is the role of the saints.
The saints are hugely important.
We know the book was written to a group of seven churches
facing hardship and even persecution under the Roman Empire.
Over and over, the saints are mentioned —
their prayers rising like incense before God,
their witness inspiring courage in those still in the struggle.
In Revelation, the saints offer comfort, encouragement, and solidarity.
It’s as if they are calling to us from heaven:
We see you! We see your suffering!
You are not alone.
We are on your side.
Hang in there! Don’t give up!
Your suffering is only temporary.
Have faith and endure.
There is another world — more real and more powerful
than all the horrors you are facing now —
and in the end, that other world will win.
This is not unlike the Letter to the Hebrews,
which also speaks to a church under duress.
Hebrews paints the picture of a “great cloud of witnesses”
surrounding us,
cheering us on,
their prayers giving us strength
to “run with perseverance the race marked out for us” (Heb. 12:1).
Turning from the Cloud to One Saint
But today we are not talking about the whole cloud —
not the multitude of saints —
but one saint in particular.
A very special saint: Mary, the mother of Jesus.
What Makes Mary Unique
Of all the saints, Mary is unique.
She is the one who carried Jesus in her womb,
the one who first held him in her arms,
the one who taught him to walk and speak,
the one who was there at his first miracle in Cana,
and the one who stood at the foot of the cross when he died.
She was chosen for an impossible task,
and she said yes —
not with full understanding,
not with a carefully mapped-out plan,
but with deep trust:
“Let it be to me according to your word.”
She is also the only saint named in both the Apostles’ Creed
and the Nicene Creed —
“born of the Virgin Mary” —
because her life is woven into the very mystery of the Incarnation.
In every age, Mary has inspired devotion:
expressed in beautiful art,
in countless prayers,
in music from Gregorian chant to Schubert’s Ave Maria.
She has inspired cathedrals and humble chapels,
pilgrimages and quiet moments of prayer.
And — interestingly enough —
she has even inspired a Beatles song.
When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be…
And in my hour of darkness
She is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be...
Mary and “Let It Be”
Paul McCartney’s Let It Be was written in 1970
during a time of personal and professional turmoil.
He explained that the “Mother Mary” in the song
was not the Virgin Mary,
but his own mother, Mary McCartney,
who died when he was fourteen.
In a dream, she came to him and said,
“It will be all right—just let it be.”
Those words became the heart of the song:
When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
So, no—it wasn’t about the Virgin Mary,
at least not according to McCartney.
And yet, the words fit perfectly with Mary of Nazareth’s story.
They echo her own “let it be”
after the angel Gabriel came with that astonishing announcement
that she would become the mother of the Messiah.
Mary as Comfort and as Challenge
Throughout history, Mary has been both a comforter and a challenger.
For those who have lost their earthly mother,
Mary has been a heavenly mother figure.
For those seeking a closer walk with God,
she has been a model of humble discipleship.
For those passionate about justice,
her Magnificat has been a rallying cry —
a song proclaiming the reversal of the world’s injustices:
He has brought down the mighty from their thrones
and lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
Mary is not only a gentle, tender figure —
she is also a prophetic voice
who announces that God’s kingdom
turns the world’s power structures upside down.
And history shows that her song still makes the powerful uneasy.
In the 1980s, the military regime in Guatemala
banned the public recitation of the Magnificat,
fearing that its words about lifting the lowly
and sending the rich away empty
would stir the poor to demand justice.
In Argentina, during the “Dirty War,”
the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo —
women protesting the disappearance of their children —
often drew strength from Mary’s fierce song of hope.
In South Africa under apartheid,
Christians singing the Magnificat
were watched closely by the authorities,
because they knew these words
were a declaration that unjust systems will fall.
Mary’s Song and Revelation’s Vision
And here is where Mary’s voice and the Book of Revelation
speak in perfect harmony.
Both proclaim that God sees the suffering of the oppressed,
that the powers of this world —
no matter how cruel or entrenched —
are not ultimate.
Both promise that the Lamb who was slain
will triumph over the beast,
that Babylon will fall,
that the tears of the saints will be wiped away.
Mary’s Magnificat is, in its own way,
an early echo of Revelation’s vision:
the day when heaven and earth join in a loud voice saying,
“The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord
and of his Messiah, and he will reign forever and ever” (Rev. 11:15).
Mary’s song, like Revelation’s prophecy,
is dangerous to tyrants because it declares in advance
that their reign will not last.
It is a hymn of comfort for the persecuted —
and a warning shot to every empire that oppresses God’s people.
Two Encouragements from Mary
Let me add a personal witness.
I find in Mary two kinds of encouragement.
First, there is the encouragement to “let it be”—
to accept what cannot be changed.
Sometimes, no matter how hard we try,
a situation cannot be fixed right now.
Sometimes the best way forward
is to stop banging our head against the wall,
to stop fighting windmills,
and to release the matter into God’s hands.
But acceptance is only one side.
The other side is the courage to act.
As the Serenity Prayer says:
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Mary embodies both.
In her “let it be,” she accepts God’s call.
In her Magnificat, she declares God’s justice,
standing courageously with the poor, the lowly, and the oppressed.
These two together — serenity and courage —
are a powerful guide for living.
Giving Thanks for Mary
So today I thank God for Mary:
for her faith that said yes to God’s plan,
for her courage to bear shame and misunderstanding,
for her steadfast presence from manger to cross,
for her voice that still sings of God’s justice,
and for her example of both surrender and holy boldness.
I want to close with the full Serenity Prayer —
because there is more to it
than the four lines we usually recite:
The Serenity Prayer
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as Christ did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that God will make all things right
if I surrender to God’s will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with God
forever in the next.
Amen.
