Mary Is Advent’s Icon

Listen to these words from St. John of the Cross:

If you want, the Virgin will come walking down the road pregnant with the holy, and say: “I need shelter for the night, please take me inside your heart, my time is close.” Then, under the roof of your soul, you will witness the sublime intimacy, the divine, the Christ, taking birth forever, as she grasps your hand for help. For each of us is the midwife of God, each of us. Yes there, under the dome of your being does Creation come into existence eternally through your womb, dear pilgrim—the sacred womb in your soul, as God grasps your arms for help; for each of us is God’s beloved servant never far. If you want, the Virgin will come walking down the street pregnant with Light and sing.

Our Advent stories ask us to enter the mystery hidden in the depths of our tradition. It is the mystery of a wild man on fire with the Spirit, out there in the dark and threatening wasteland urging us to stop posturing, get rid of our armor and become open to the spirit so God can enter our lives. It is the mystery of Mary’s unqualified “yes” to a bizarre, life-changing invitation spoken by an angel, and her ability to recognize God’s presence in that moment and throw caution to the wind in her response. John the Baptist is the figure who seeks our attention. His loud and insistent voice announces the approach of a new reality, one so awesome we are put on alert! This isn’t business as usual—we need to prepare! What we are preparing for is birth. These are the final days of pregnancy. We are preparing a place for that new life that is on its way. We are making space in our hearts and in our minds—a space of welcome—by clearing out those attitudes and ways of being that stifle our ability to love deeply and unconditionally. We are getting ourselves ready for an even deeper love.

Mary fills the long, dark hours of waiting. She is pregnant with the Divine Child whose immanent arrival John announces. She is often hidden behind the scenes in feast days that rarely happen on Sundays, but without her there would be no story at all.

Mary is Advent’s reigning Icon. In her we see the eternal mystery of Creation made real. She is the eternal Mother, Mother of the physical world. Out of her body all new life comes forth. The beginning of all future possibilities depends on her. She embodies the eternal mystery of conception, pregnancy and birth, the primal human experience of life emerging—seemingly from out of nowhere! It is the mystery of light emerging from the deepest darkness, the sun returning in the dead of winter—imperceptible at first, so weak it’s barely noticeable. But day-by-day it grows stronger, remains longer. Daylight increases again.

Mary grew in courage as the light within her grew. Within days of conceiving the Christ child she set out for the hill country to visit her cousin Elizabeth. The story says nothing about her being accompanied by anyone. We are given the image of a young woman traveling alone. Because this seems so preposterous within the culture of that time, we are called to attention. We see Mary as strong, vital, wholly her own person, which is the true meaning of the word “virgin.” God is within Mary as God is within each of us. God is Mary’s sole companion as she moves into her life as a young woman. She is full of God’s life. She recognizes and claims her place in God’s plan, not with pride but with gratitude, and willingness. She will do what she is called to do with great humility and tremendous strength. She sees this plan within the grand arc of her people’s history and God’s undying love for them. Her response to Elizabeth’s enthusiastic greeting recounts the prophecies of Jeremiah, Isaiah, Micah and the psalms of King David. Her words echo those of Hannah, mother of the prophet Samuel, in her grand ‘Magnificat’.

These are God’s promises to her ancestors: the mighty are deposed, the proud scattered, the lowly are raised and the hungry filled with good things while the over-full are sent away empty. God gives prominence to the weak and the humble, demonstrating this highest value in calling Mary, a young woman of no consequence in her culture, to birthing and mothering the Divine child promised to her people in ages past. Her God is a God of kept-promises, unconditional love and mercy. The child she bears is the heart of justice, peace and compassion. He is the Light of the world, the Light in the midst of her life and ours.

Mary invites each of us to carry this Light within us, to give it form, substance. She reaches out to all of us this night inviting us to receive her into our hearts. She whispers the message of the angel in our ear, inviting us to hear what she heard so long ago—a plea to make space for the Divine child in our heart, to carry it willingly, nurture it faithfully and offer it tenderly to others. The world needs all of its Christ-bearers to step forward now, to do the hard work of birthing this fragile yet powerful love-force in this time! Hear the summons of John the Baptist—let go any debris blocking the door to your soul. The angel of God is speaking—listen to her words as they appear in your life and your dreams. And let these words of St. John of the Cross inspire you this Advent. They are meant for you.

If you want, the Virgin will come walking down the road pregnant with the holy, and say: “I need shelter for the night, please take me inside your heart, my time is close.” Then, under the roof of your soul, you will witness the sublime intimacy, the divine, the Christ, taking birth forever, as she grasps your hand for help. For each of us is the midwife of God, each of us. Yes there, under the dome of your being does Creation come into existence eternally through your womb, dear pilgrim—the sacred womb in your soul, as God grasps our arms for help; for each of us is God’s beloved servant never far. If you want, the Virgin will come walking down the street pregnant with Light and sing.

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *