Let It Be

Luke 1:26-38                                                                                                         

²⁶In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, ²⁷to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. ²⁸And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” ²⁹But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. ³⁰The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. ³¹And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. ³²He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. ³³He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” ³⁴Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” ³⁵The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. ³⁶And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. ³⁷For nothing will be impossible with God.” ³⁸Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her. 

It was not a religious song at all.  It was about his mother, who died of cancer when he was fourteen.  The band had been rehearsing for a new album, and the tensions that soon led to the breakup of the band were running high.  His mother appeared to him in a dream, comforting him, telling him “It will be all right, just let it be.”  The song turned out to be the last song the band ever recorded together, and it became one of their greatest hits, winning Grammys and an Academy Award.  You might know it: 

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.

Let it be, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

And when the broken hearted people

Living in the world agree,

There will be an answer, let it be.

For though they may be parted there is

Still a chance that they will see

There will be an answer, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

There will be an answer, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

There will be an answer, let it be.

And when the night is cloudy,

There is still a light that shines on me.

Shine until tomorrow, let it be.

I wake up to the sound of music

Mother Mary comes to me

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

There will be no sorrow, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

Whisper words of wisdom, let it be. 

The composer, of course, was Paul McCartney, and the band was the Beatles.  Paul’s mother’s name was Mary.  And even though Paul had no intention of writing a religious song, sometimes artists write “beyond themselves,” creating a meaning they never consciously intended.  That’s the greatness of great art:  it opens us to worlds beyond the limitations of the artist.

I cannot read the story of the Annuciation – the announcement by the angel Gabriel to Mary that she would be the mother of the Messiah – without hearing Let It Be.  It seems to me that Mary is a model for us of what it means to love God, and this song is an anthem for us as we seek to follow Christ.  By the way, that’s two thirds of our new proposed mission statement:  Love God, Follow Christ, Serve Others.

Did, I wonder, God have other young women in mind for the mother of the Messiah?  Did Gabriel come knocking on the door of other Jewish women who were too busy to hear his quiet rapping?  Did some of them let him in, or simply notice when he appeared in a dream or in the daylight, but politely or not tell him to get lost?  Mother of the Messiah?  No thanks, Gabriel, I have other plans.  I don’t want to ruin my figure.  I have a fancy wedding all planned.  My fiancé would never understand.  This would destroy my reputation.  Thanks, but no thanks, Gabriel.  This womb is not available.

What is God trying to conceive in us that we might be too busy, too occupied, too self-important to receive?  I don’t want God to do something new in me – I want God to fix the mess in my life that’s broken.  I want God to confirm my values and my opinions, not make me think new thoughts, feel new feelings, head in new directions.  This is Christmas – I want to hear Silent Night and It’s the Hap-Happiest Time of the Year, even if it’s neither.  My mind is made up – don’t confuse me with something new, Gabriel.

But I have a hunch that what secretly draws us to the Christmas story is our flickering hope that just maybe, this time, something new and miraculous really will happen, the way it did when we were little children and everything was new and miraculous.  Friday Vicki and I met our daughter Sarah, her husband Brantley, and our five week old grandson Leo, for lunch and to exchange presents.  I got to hold Leo for a while after lunch, and watch him as he looked out the window of the restaurant and at me.  Everything for Leo is new and amazing.  Isn’t that what we want at Christmas –in the words of C.S. Lewis’ autobiography, to be Surprised By Joy?  One Christmas years ago, Leo’s mother, Sarah, gave us a long list of Christmas wishes, and Vicki and I got her almost everything on the list.  We watched as she opened present after present, pleased but considerably less than ecstatic.  When she had opened everything and was sitting glumly on the sofa, we asked her how she liked her presents.  “They’re OK,” she answered.  “OK?  Everything was something you asked for!” we pointed out.  “I know,” she said, “it’s just that I knew everything that I was getting.”  Vicki and I vowed to never get Sarah what she wanted again.  She wanted to be surprised.  And, really, aren’t we all hoping for something newer, greater, grander than we imagined or hoped?

So, what makes us reject the miraculous new thing that God wants to do in us, or just makes us deaf and blind to the possibility?  I don’t know about you, but in me it’s just plain fear.  There’s something very comfortable and reassuring about what’s familiar.  What I know is safe, and under control.  Something new might require that I change my mind or my heart or my life, or maybe even my wallet.  What’s the phrase – better the devil you know than the angel you don’t?  Besides, in a world in which everything around me is changing at light speed, can’t God just let me stay where I am?  I like it here – it’s familiar.  I know my way around, even in the dark.  Change someone else, God.

What impresses me most about Mary is her courage.  When Mary says Let it be to the angel, she is not passively submitting herself to something over which she has no control.  Let it be is not surrender – it is affirmation and direction.  My friend and fellow pastor Bill Davis used to say that his model as a pastor was Captain Jean-Luc Piccard of the Starship Enterprise, Next Generation:  he wanted to be able to say to his crew, Make It So, and have the church jump into warp drive.  Let it be is Make it so.  Mary is entering into a partnership with God, as sure a partnership as any mother joins with the father of her child.  Mary is not a passive receptacle for God – she is an active co-Creator in the salvation of the world.  That’s absolutely clear in the next few verses, which we read responsively a few minutes ago: 

My soul magnifies the Lord,
⁴⁷ and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
⁴⁸ for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
 Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
⁴⁹ for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
⁵⁰ His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
⁵¹ He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
⁵² He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly;
⁵³ he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.


This is no timid village maiden, cowering in fear.  This is a woman who knows from the get-go that God is starting a revolution not only in her, but with her.  Mary’s let it be isn’t a whatever – it’s really a bring it on.

That’s why Mary is the first Christian, and a model for us all.  That’s something we Protestants desperately need to learn from our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters.  Mary doesn’t submit – she engages God body, mind, and heart.  She becomes God’s partner in changing the world.  And even though she knows that the world cannot be saved without sorrow and blood and loss, she lets God use her to do something newer and greater and grander than she or anyone else could ever imagine.  That, by the way, is my answer to the question posed in tonight’s anthem:  Mary, Did You Know?

What are you looking for this Christmas?  Do you really just want the things on your list?  Or do you, once again, want to be a little child hoping to be surprised and amazed by something new in you and for you?  It can happen, you know, if you’ll just let God

Let it be, let it be.
Let it be, let it be.
There will be an answer:
Let it be.