Mary, Barbie, Humanity

Good morning church, today I am going to begin my sermon with a little bit of cynicism, but I won’t be concluding it that way so I invite you to stick with me. 

Firstly, I want to remind us all that most–if not all–of this sacred text this morning is written from a male perspective, these earliest writers, scribes, editors, and even early church fathers who made canonical decisions were all, well, men. I don’t know about you, but one of the worst feelings is for someone to man-splain about childbirth to me. Friends, I’m sorry to say that the gospels don’t give us much by way of an authentic first-person view of this experience directly from Mary’s perspective, maybe the Magnificat which follows today’s scriptures but even that, is still likely produced by a male writer. We get a more tailored, edited, and even artful version of the Divine Conception. I’m sure many of you may have heard sermons or studies on Mary’s position socially at her time. An unmarried pregnant woman would have had little to no social standing. She may have even been stoned to death for it. Luke’s retelling of this divine moment of conception is so masked by the patriarchy it is almost difficult for me to fully take in. In some ways the artful version before us makes me think of those Facebook posts of new moms after they just had a baby, the ones where you can tell that they did their hair before taking the photo. Like her hair looks all done up and that this whole thing that just happened—ie. giving birth— isn’t what it actually is. It is my opinion that childbirth is far more messy, challenging, emotional, and even liberating than we see here. 

But setting patriarchy aside for a moment, I do still find the conception story we heard this morning riveting. That the God of the universe came down and became a helpless baby inside Mary’s womb, the Word encased within her body. And Mary, oh Mary, she, according to Luke, accepts her task of carrying the Holy Child with immense grace and faith. A woman got this faith thing right, and there is power in her story.  Even the patriarchy makes her out to be nothing short of a saint, holy in her own right, which holds true for us theologically.

 But having been through childbirth a few years back, there is something about the character of Mary that leaves me wondering and wanting to know more about her humanity in this whole mind-blowing situation. To which she consents, and makes a free choice to choose God. She responds with,  “I am the Lord’s servant,” “May your word to me be fulfilled.” But what fears, challenges, struggles, and difficulties did she face? Did she experience morning sickness? Food cravings? And hormonal ups and downs? What risk did she face carrying a child to term in the ancient world as such a young person? After all, this is a time of year when we recall and remember the incarnation, that is, the humanity of our Lord and Savior, being born as a helpless baby. I contend today, friends, that there is something remarkable about Mary’s humanity too. 

This human woman, Mary, runs to Elizabeth, her cousin, after this enunciation from the Angel Gabirel, and says, “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.” That is a response of joy in her own saying, “yes” to God’s call for her. 

This year many of us saw an outstanding film, and that film was called, Barbie. I couldn’t stop thinking about this film while reflecting on Mary so I had to share with you this morning, some of my reflections. It’s a satiracal film in which Barbie, the doll, played by Margot Robie, has reason to travel from Barbie Land to The REAL WORLD—our world. She comes to find out that it isn’t a liberated world where women can do anything, like Barbie Land, quite the opposite –including verbal assaults, sexualization, attempts to “rebox” her literally, and many tears. 

Eventually, toward the end of the film, one of the leading female characters, played by America Ferrera, proposes “Ordinary Barbie” to the CEO of Mattel, the company in charge of the famous doll. She says, quote “Why don’t we make Ordinary Barbie, she’s not extraordinary, she’s not the president of anything, or maybe she is, maybe she’s a mom, or maybe she’s not because it's okay to just want to be a mom or to want to be a president, or maybe both. She has a flattering top and wants to get through the day feeling kind of good about herself.” end quote. It was a film about how being a woman in this world, The REAL WORLD, can feel a bit like an endless cycle of, well, patriarchy. How many days, I wonder, did Mary sigh at the end of her day, just wanting to be ordinary and feeling kind of okay about herself? Obviously, nothing about Mary was ordinary, being the mother of God makes her distinctly extraordinary–but–perhaps, there is something relatable for us with the bits that were…just… well, ordinary. The bits of the story that we have to speculate about, the bits that we don’t actually see from the scriptures. You know, the hay from the stable and the amniotic fluid from Mary’s womb sort of all mixed together. What a messy birth that would have been. 

In 2016, I preached during Advent while I was pregnant. It was an otherworldly experience to be creating a baby within my own womb while I read the scriptures of Mary and Elizabeth doing the same types of things I was. Naming their offspring, celebrating with others, battling any stigma, and beginning to build a life and a home for their families, all while they depended on God throughout the process. All of that to say, mary’s representation as A woman, within our faith has been intensely important to me. 

In my opinion, the most moving part of the Barbie Film is the final conversation between the creator of the Barbie, her name is ruth and Barbie herself. It’s the point in the film where we as viewers don’t yet know what Barbie’s ending will be, will she end up marrying Ken? Will she get a high-powered job? What is it that she really wants? It's a moment where all the angst of being a woman in the Real World comes to a final climax, and the final climax is about being human, about becoming human. In fact Barbie says quote, “I want to be the one who helps make meaning, not be the idea, you know what I mean? I want to do the imagining, I don’t want to be the idea.” end quote, Friends, I think every young woman comes to a point in their life when she realizes that she wants to do the imagining instead of simply being the idea. She comes to a point where she wants a seat at the table and for her voice to be heard. And while every woman’s experience of that time in her life is different I’m optimistic that many of us here can relate to this journey of coming into ourselves. 

Eventually, Barbie asks the creator of the doll, Ruth, if she has her permission to become human. And the response is compelling. Quote: “You don’t need my or anyone's permission!” Barbie responds with: “So human is just something I am, it's not something I need to ask for or even want? It's just something I discover I am?”

I think the whole crux of the film hangs on this exchange. That being a woman, or a man, or non-binary, it doesn’t really matter, what we all want is to be fully human. For the world around us to know that we are human, and treat us as fellow humans on this journey of life. And being human is messy and difficult and sometimes we dehumanize ourselves and each other– we make up things like patriarchy and gender constructions and satire comedy just to deal with how uncomfortable being a human really is. And yet, we are still just people. Something about Barbie’s choosing to become human even though she knows the pain, suffering, and eventual death it would include is at its very core, incarnational. In the same way, Christ chooses to take on all that makes us human, pain, suffering, and eventual death. And what Christ offers is the fact that we are enough, just as we are, pain, suffering, and inevitable death included. 

We all know that Mary is the Great Mother, the holy mother. I heard recently one pastor suggest that perhaps “mama” was both Jesus’ first and last words. And one final line from the Barbie film helped me put this into perspective when Ruth says, “Us mothers stand still so our daughters can see how far they’ve come.” one more time: “us mothers stand still so our daughters can see how far they’ve come.”  It’s something I innately know and hope in my bones for my own daughter, that I can stand here and she can move forward in new horizons as fully herself. I look at Mary, the mother of Jesus, who stands still on these pages in the scriptures and shows me how far we’ve come. I can stand up here this morning and preach a sermon about hay and amniotic fluid all mixed together at the miraculous birth of our savior. 

So I know this morning is Advent 4 but it just so happens to also be Christmas Eve, and I hope and pray that whatever your plans are for this Christmas you will cherish all that it means for us to be human, all that it means for Christ to be human, and all that it means for Mary to be human. 

I’ll close this morning with the words of my professor, Dr. Kate Bowler: 

God, we are waiting for love, not the simple kind or the sweep-you-off-your-feet kind, but the absurd kind. The kind wrapped in rags, resting in a bucket of animal feed. Love enough to save us all. Blessed are we who look for Love deeper, fuller, truer—than we have ever known, than we could have ever hoped for. Blessed are we who seek you, the light that dawned so long ago in that dark stable. Love given. Love received. Receive this gift, dear one. Love has come for you.

Amen