From this day, all generations will call me blessed… {The Virgin Mary}
On this third week of Advent, the virgin Mary sings her song. This courageous woman bore, through sweat, ridicule and the travail of her own body, the One who would save us all. It is no small thing that in a world where men controlled every sphere of power it was a woman who carried the hope of the world.
To be sure, Mary was no passive woman only familiar with the way of the meek and mild. Mary knew a fierce gentleness. She sang of how her child would overthrow empires and unravel systems of injustice — even as she sang hope over all who were hungry, all who were desperate for help, all who had been cut low by the grief of life. Mary was a friend to the weary and a threat to the powers. Women of tenderness and strength always are.
Today, I cannot think of Mother Mary without thinking of my own mother, the wonderful woman who carried me into existence, the woman who nurtured me and prayed over me, the good woman who released me into my future with more than a few tears. I think of the woman who shares my life, the woman who labored so that our two boys might know this world, a woman who labors over them still.
It is a costly thing to surrender your body so that another might live. Jesus knows this, but Mary knows this as well. Mary bore our one hope into this world, a cosmos shot through with both wonder and misery. No wonder we call her, even as she foretold, the Blessed Mother.
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Each Monday during Advent, John Blase, Kelly Hausknecht Chripczuk and I reflect on the same Advent text from the week’s lectionary. This week, it’s Luke 1:46-55, Mary’s Magnificat.
The greatest gift a Mother can leave to her child in this world is to give them knowledge of Jesus and His gift of salvation to us….I pray as a Mother, my children remember this early lesson from childhood and find grace in His presence before they leave this world and most of all, past His gift on to their own children, we are after all, to tell the Good News to all who will hear. Merry Christmas, and God though we are unworthy , please forgive and bless us all.
Tenderness is a word that’s made itself known to me this year as an aspect of God’s character – one theologian speaks of God’s “brooding tenderness.” Sitting here this morning with a tenderly bruised rib (from coughing) I’m aware of the pain and vulnerability of tenderness.
I like the brooding tenderness, very much.
Beautifully said, Winn. Blessed Mother, indeed. I continue to be amazed at her bravery and openness and am grateful for her willingness, her fierceness and her receptivity. Thanks.
Hey there. I stumbled my way here from John Blase’s blog. This is beautifully written. It reminds me that we also have to “surrender our bodies.” We can and must be like Mary for the life of world. Christ is to be born uniquely in each of us so that the life and love of God can enter into our small sphere of influence. I don’t think it’s easy. Surely it will be through sweat, ridicule, and travail.
well, hey there. No, it’s not easy. Love never is. I’m glad you found your way here.