Tomorrow, on the fourth Sunday of Advent, we hear
for the fourth time this month Luke’s Gospel of the Annunciation story. I’m sure we have reflected many times on the meaning of
this Gospel in our lives, as we have done year after year, from the time of our
vocation calling to the never- ending callings and challenges we experience in
our daily monastic lives. And hearing
this Gospel two days in a row, somehow wakes us up to dive deeper into these last
few days of Advent, waiting and pondering with Mary, anticipating Christ’s
coming at Christmas.
We’ve all read many commentaries on the Annunciation. The essential message we glean from all of them is Mary’s surrendering “Fiat.” And her response “How can this be?” or maybe “Why me?” has been experienced by all of us.
I do not feel the
need to read another commentary; rather,
I’m going to share a precious story.
My sister shared with me this past week that as she was babysitting her 18 month-old granddaughter Jordan, Jordan seemed to be captivated with the Nativity set. She just stood in a quiet stance, and with her big inquisitive eyes seemed to be taking everything in. Her eyes focused on the statue of Mary, she picked it up, gazed at it, her eyes meeting Mary’s eyes. She began talking to Mary, in infant gibberish, of course, and then began kissing Mary. The next morning, as my sister was leaving for work, she just happened to glance at the manger scene as she was headed out the door and noticed that Mary was missing. She looked all over the house and finally found Mary in a basket with all of Jordan’s favorite stuffed animals.
This story touched my heart and I asked my sister if she could possibly get Jordan to re-enact this sacred event and send me a picture. She was able to accomplish this request.
I think this event
is an Annunciation story for Jordan.
Somehow she knows that Mary is special.
What is she thinking? What is she feeling? What is she pondering? Is it an “inner
knowing?” I will never know what she is
thinking, feeling, or pondering. She
cannot express her inner knowing. She
will probably not remember this sacred discovery next year. But somehow I believe it an Annunciation
moment for her, a formation period for her, somehow forming her for all the
“fiats” of her life.
Jordan’s sharing
of Mary with her stuffed animals, whom she probably communicates with on a
regular basis, is evidence to me that God is already working within her to
birth and share God’s life with others.
The following
poem, entitled “Woven” by Edwina Gateley in her book Growing into God,
captures the
Annunciation mystery:
“There is a
divinity
split over the
earth
that flows where
we don’t see
and clothes
all dead and
living things
in mantles of
eternity.
Though in our gray
and stressed out
world
we miss the holy
thing,
still it shines,
wove fast and deep
in our dark
humanity.
And if one day
we’d dare to
glance
into a child’s
wondrous eyes,
we’d see
reflected,
shining there,
God’s bright
inviting dance.”
