It's hard to know who may be most humble here--Mary or the Angel Gabriel. But humility here, for certain, is a great virtue. The Angel Gabriel portrays heavenly-being humility because he/she has been chosen for a mission unlike any other. God almighty, whose hand can be seen at the top in the center, has sent him to the virgin Mary with the news that she, of all women of all time, has been chosen to be the mother of the son of God.
I don't know if I've seen them all, but you could file through a thousand renderings of "the annunciation" (this one belongs to Fra Lippo Lippi, National Gallery of London) and not see a haughty Mary. That's impossible. The biblical record says Mary, betrothed to Joseph, didn't make a big deal out of the really big deal she found herself in as Mother of God. The lilies in the pot on the stand between them have been a symbol of her purity, her virginity. Here they are, front and center.
This young woman hadn't a shred of pride. Soon after the visit, she sang a hymn of her own composition, as beautiful a poem as any King David ever penned.
Two lines from the story have always been my favorites. The first is a kind of summary of the whole story: "Mary pondered these things in her heart." (Luke 2:19). Pondered is somewhat out of fashion these days; lots of translations say "treasured." Surely she did treasure this visit and so much that followed it in her life, but I think I'll stick with pondered because it suggests a weighing of events which treasured doesn't. Pondered makes the incarnation itself, in her mind and heart, more of mystery. I'd like to think that even Mary didn't always catch on to the immensity that she was so intimate a part of. She tried hard and for certain understood more than any other human being. She was, after all, the subject of this very famous interview. But I like pondered.
The other line undeniably belongs to the Mother of the King of Heaven and Earth. When Gabriel begins to take leave, Mary says, “May it happen to me according to your word.” The beauty of her acquiescence is what makes her so faithful, so faith-filled. "May it be as you have said" offers total compliance, a blessing immense faith.
Last night we read a meditation by Father John Neuhaus, who reminds us that Luke says Mary was troubled when the angel arrived and the moment above began: "she was greatly troubled," the Bible says. But then, "to be anxious is to be human," Neuhaus says.
In a moment, Mary sheds it. "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word." Neuhaus says it's Mary's greatest fiat--"Let it be." And then, "Faith is not blind faith, but trust with eyes wide open."
"Let it be." I'd never thought about those particular words in exactly that way, and, strangely enough, I couldn't stop an old Beatles tune from playing in my ear. Paul McCartney wrote "Let it Be," with specific reference to his mother's death, his mother, who was named Mary.
That the Mother Mary of "Let it Be" is the mother of the man who wrote the "Let it Be" is okay, but I can't help but appreciate that the lyric work when we ponder the annuciation too, the faith of yet another Mary, who told the angel at the news of her chosenness that she would believe what he was saying was true--"let it be."
I just can't help but smile to know that the great old Beatles tune works beautifully every Advent season.
Listen in, one more time--
1 comment:
Thank you! Another reason to love the amazing works of the Beatles.
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