Pastor M. Susan Peterson

As some of you may have heard along the way, I grew up in a family where music was at the heart of our life together.  In our home, there was a song for almost every occasion and, when nothing seemed to fit, someone would make one up.  My mother was one of those gifted musicians who could gather family and friends around a piano where we would sing for hours old and not-so-old tunes that to this day continue to play on in my mind and heart keeping us all connected. In time, those songs we sang together somehow became a part of our family’s identity, a weaving together of familiar words and melody that helped to tell the story of who we were then and who we are still becoming.

Today, in these last days of summer we are treated to the strains of a familiar family song. It is Mary’s magnificent song. Usually a part of the reading on the 4^th Sunday in Advent as we approach the great festival of Jesus’ birth, but today, on the feast day of Mary, Mother of our Lord, we hear those familiar words once again, apart from the decorations of Christmas and the confusion over what it all really means.  Today, the song is what it is meant to be – not a prelude to a day or a season, but the declaration of the entire future that God has set in motion through Jesus Christ… the promise of a new order in which the last will be first, the lowly will be lifted up, the rich sent empty away…and all generations will call the bearer of Christ blessed.    

It’s not a bad way to end an era of worshiping and praying and serving together -  to hear these words read from a text so ancient and yet so new (and newly crafted into this beautiful volume before us.). Mary’s words strike in me a chord of both gratitude and grace, words that we have used so often here at Gloria Dei to describe our life together.  Strange, how Mary’s words spoken in such an intimate moment with her Cousin Elizabeth have carried down through the ages and still find meaning in the hearts and minds of so many of us who seek out hope in the midst of struggle and promise in the midst of change. Offered up in a moment of wonder and praise for all that God has done, Mary’s song and its declaration of a new order becomes ours, woven into our hopes and dreams for God’s great handiwork – the church – where we are called to live out this prophetic call to justice.

In days of gratitude and grace such as these, Mary’s song speaks volumes to me. But in those days when doubt and fear threaten to drum out the spirit of hope and courage that is embedded in them… one could easily lose sight of their meaning – forget the words altogether, and renege

Pastor Susan reads from the St. John's Bible (Note: Click on image for larger view)

on our good intentions to keep that song alive in and for the church. Yet, when together we felt called to take a stand for justice for all God’s people, to move ahead, expand our vision, and even our building… when the challenges of new technology and shrinking resources tended to clash and we wondered how we would meet the financial needs of our ministry, the people of God here in this place time and again returned to a song of hope and courage…renewing our mission to love and to serve in Jesus’ name.

On my desk, I keep these words nearby,  “A friend knows the song in my heart and sings it to me when my memory fails.”  Oh, dear friends, how often you have sung the song of hope and gratitude back into my life in these 25 years together.  Just as Mary’s words echo the prophets’ call to justice, the vision and courage of this community have continually renewed my excitement, my joy, and my courage in the face of challenges.  You have sung that song around the baptismal font where the refreshing water of the covenant God has made with us washes over us daily; you have sung that song – even in Spanish, on the shores of Lake Atitlan in Guatemala; you have sung that song in your willingness to step up to the plate, open the doors and gladly welcome all of God’s people; you have sung those words of courage and praise in some of the most beautiful music I ever hope to hear -- right here in this sanctuary -- and I have heard echoes of Mary’s the song in my colleagues’ sermons that have continued to feed me long after I first heard them; you have touched me deeply and daily with your open arms and your ready enthusiasm to be the church, the hands and feet of Jesus here on earth.

It will not be easy to leave such a place as this.  I am not very good at good-bys, as you know.  But there is in this leave-taking an astonishing gift of joy.  Like the rare pearl of great price discovered in the midst of a field, there is this lovely gem of a promise hidden amidst the grief of

good-bys, like a familiar melody of hope that plays again and again in my heart… a grace note, if you will… returning us to that place where it all begins and where we are all joined together.

It is in our baptismal identity as God’s own children that we will continue to be connected.  And while my prayers for Gloria Dei and for the whole church, will be made in other places, at other times, I will continue to thank God that I was called to be among you and to serve with you. By God’s grace, we have journeyed together for 25 years, singing the song of God’s grace and love, building a mission to care, to heal and to welcome in Jesus’ name.  It is a song of hope, a song of joy… “My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my savior…” Indeed… And the song goes on….

Thanks be to God, and Amen!