" . . . for nothing will be impossible for God." Lk 1:37
Waking up to four inches of snow on the ground in late March is not ordinarily my idea of a good time. But alas, it was the reality and it was beautiful; the tree branches were resplendent with the heavy, wet, white coating and the cardinals were singing as I cleaned off the cars and cleared the walk. I had the distinct impression that the whole ordeal was to due to an Old Man Winter who was bitter that his time was up and then turned around and tossed one last defiant snowball as he made his exit until, hopefully, next December. Of course, the fact that it was both a Friday and the Solemnity of the Annunciation (and, hence, not a fast day . . . see Canon 1251) certainly contributed to my good mood helped me cope with the white stuff which, after all, will be gone again in a matter of days.
As I shoveled the walk I imagined all the grousing around town at that very moment; various expletives directed at the unpredictability of Mother Nature and her seeming preemptive strike against Spring. But I actually had a wonderful prayer while I shoveled and began the day's reflection on the mystery of the Annunciation. Sure, I was inconvenienced by the snow, but it was a blip on the radar compared to the shock of being young, unmarried and pregnant in a first century Palestine where such developments could, in the best case scenario, spell ostracization from friends and family and at worst mean, well, the worst one could imagine. My shoveling soon became a labor of love as I breathed in the cool, crisp air and reveled in the beauty around me.
Later in the day when I paused to pray, I opened Luke's Gospel to read his account of the interaction between Mary and Gabriel. Recently, I have really been drawn to imaginative prayer and have found very fruitful the practice of placing myself in the scene and picturing what it may have been like. As a man I admittedly have absolutely no idea what it would be like to be pregnant, but I imagined how Mary's mind must have been racing as she attempted to comprehend this new reality and the fear that must have gripped her as the angel's words fell upon her ears. But then he essentially told her to take a deep breath and relax, "for nothing will be impossible for God." What calming words for each of us to hear. In the turmoil, anxiety and hectic nature of our own lives, it will be OK. And even if it isn't OK, God is there, along for the ride, waiting to help us find hope amidst the impossible.
My prayer throughout the day was for women who find themselves in situations similar to Mary's. Faced with the difficulty of an unplanned pregnancy or the prospect of being a single mother, such a situation must seem impossible and too much to bear. I don't pretend to understand that situation, but I feel for the confusion and fear that I would most certainly feel.
But today is a Solemnity, a celebration. Mary ultimately came to terms with her situation and recognized through faith that somehow, beyond her comprehension, everything would indeed be OK. And she rejoiced. And so I rejoice. I explained to my students that I was breaking the fast today because it was as though today we are invited to Jesus' baby shower . . . a cause for a party and celebration as the preparation for new life, as challenging and unexpected as it may be, has begun.
No comments:
Post a Comment