The Equalizer

         You may have noticed the death of British actor Edward Woodward last month at age 79. Among other roles, Woodward starred in the 1980s hit TV series, "The Equalizer." Anybody here willing to admit you watched "The Equalizer"? And liked it? (Guilty pleasure). I admit it. I used to watch the Equalizer and I liked it. Here’s how somebody described the series, Woodward played ". . . a former secret agent, of an unnamed organization, . . . often referred to simply as ‘the Agency’ or ‘the Company,’ . . . [He] tries to atone for past sins by offering, free of charge, his services as a troubleshooter (often literally), a protector, and an investigator. People in need find him through a newspaper ad [that reads]: ‘Got a problem? Odds against you? Call the Equalizer.’" (Wikipedia) Yeah. Imagine the possibilities. Somebody’s bullying you? Call the Equalizer. Criminals running amok? Call the Equalizer. What a concept.

         But the show was also weird. As episodes began, theme music pulsated to a montage of New York City crime scenes–a woman cowering behind a chained door, a man chasing a victim, somebody being attacked on an elevator. Suddenly the camera flashed to dark silhouette, a man in a trench coat, gradually illuminated–The Equalizer. The odd thing was, Edward Woodward, "The Equalizer" who whooped up on bad guys and young thugs, was actually paunchy, white-haired, and fifty-five years old when the series began and fifty-nine years old when it ended. Not exactly the dispenser of justice you’d expect. 

         Mary also sings about an Equalizer, One who will bring some people down to size but defend other people who have the odds stacked against them. And this Equalizer also demolishes our expectations.

         Mary’s theme song and her story are so unlikely though. There’s Mary, probably a teenager, unwed, and pregnant with Jesus. She goes and visits with her cousin Elizabeth, an old woman, also pregnant, soon to deliver the one we call John the Baptist. About the time Mary hits the doorstep with a "hello!" the child in Elizabeth’s womb leaps for joy. And, filled with the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth shouts, "Mary, you’re blessed, and so is the child you’ll bear! And blessed is she who believed what God promised." There’s a whole lot of loud blessing going on here.

         Then Mary breaks into her theme song, what we call the Magnificat (taken from the first word found in the Latin translation). "My soul, my very life, magnifies, exalts, God and rejoices in God my Savior, because God has paid close, loving attention to the lowliness of God’s servant." As one scholar points out, the Greek word for lowliness here means ". . . ‘humiliated’ or ‘marginalized’ because of one’s failure to live up to the demands of honor and respectability that characterize a society such as that into which Jesus and John were born." And this is a word that might have been used of a woman unable to conceive a child or who had been a victim of sexual assault.

(Sharon H. Ringe, Luke in the Westminster Bible Companion, 34.) Mary says God is paying attention to her lowliness and will save her. From now on, people will call her blessed, because God has done great things for her.

         And not only has God done great things for Mary but God will do great things for so many others. Mary sings of God’s mercy for all who come to God with deep reverence. And Mary’s so certain of the great things God will do that she sings God’s promise in the past tense. God has scattered the proud, knocked the powerful off their thrones, and lifted up the lowly. God has satisfied the hungry, and sent the rich away empty.

         And if we’re really listening, and if we’re truly honest, Mary’s song makes us uncomfortable, we, some of the proud, powerful, wealthy, and well-fed people on the earth. We, some of the more proud, powerful, wealthy, and well-fed people in history.

         Is God going to scatter our prideful selves like dust blowing in the wind? Is God going to pull our "last remaining Superpower" throne right out from under us, but lift up the lowly? Is God going to send us away from our too-many-calories diets, but fill all those hungry, distended "Two Thirds-World" bellies? 

         Yeah, sings Mary. Past tense. It’s a done deal, sings Mary. It ought to make us uncomfortable. It ought to make us uncomfortable. Merry Christmas.

         How do we understand this radical song? One person says, ". . . Mary’s song does not speak ‘of individuals undergoing moral change but of the restructuring of the order in which there are rich and poor, mighty and lowly.’"

(Robert McAfee Brown quoting Elsa Tamez, Unexpected News: Reading the Bible with Third World Eyes, 81.) Mary sings that there will come a day when there will be no rich and poor, mighty and lowly. Is that threatening to us? Should it be?

         Another writer gives us hope. She says, what God will do with our stations in life is "move toward a common middle ground . . . [and] Within the frame of God’s mercy, the center loses any tone of vengeance or triumphalism. Instead, an economy marked by scarcity and competition is replaced by an economy of generosity in which all have enough: Those who are hungry get to enjoy good things, and those who are rich do not get to add to their riches. The powerful no longer get to exercise power over others, but nothing is said about the ‘lowly’ now getting to do what has been done to them."

(Ringe, 35.) 

(Dale Rosenberger quoting Allen Hilton in Who Are You To Say: Establishing Pastoral Authority in Matters of Faith, 32.) Worship alone keeps our pride in check and reminds us of who and whose we are. Mary’s theme song sings us into worship.

         And Mary’s theme song sings us into action. If God is going to bring about an equalization, "a common middle ground," and if we trust in this living God revealed in Jesus Christ, then won’t we be part of God’s justice and mercy for the poor, the weak, and the marginalized now? Of course, we will as individuals, as a church, and as a nation.

         Christian activist Jim Wallis reminds us, "Almost half the world–three billion people–now lives on less than $2 per day, and one billion people live on less than $1 a day, including half the population of sub-Saharan Africa . . . thirty thousand children die every single day from preventable causes–hunger, diseases due to hunger, unsafe drinking water . . . things we could change if we just wanted to.

(Jim Wallis, God’s Politics: Why the Right Gets It Wrong and the Left Doesn’t Get It, 198.)

(Jonathan Kozol, Amazing Grace: The Lives of Children and the Conscience of a Nation, 237-238.)

Mary sings the promise that God’s unstoppable justice,

mercy, and love, and that little boy’s vision is coming. As you

and I worship and serve, may we be a foreshadowing of the

great equalization, the common middle ground, that proclaims

God’s love for all people, in Christ our Lord. Amen.