Fourth Sunday of Advent - December 22, 2019

Matthew 1:18-24


This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.

But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).

When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife.


An old rabbi’s tale says that a common man, walking down a road one day, encountered a stranger. When the man asked the stranger about his plans, the stranger identified himself as the Messiah and said he was going into the town to reveal himself to the people there. The common man gasped, and begged the Messiah not to show himself. When asked why, the man replied, “The people are not expecting you. No one is ready. And if you appear now, they will all miss you. Wait until the people anticipate your coming.”

One version of the story says that for the rest of his life, the common man hardly slept or ate at all, as he vigilantly kept watch for the Messiah’s appearance.

Constant vigilance is difficult. Living in perpetual readiness is exhausting. I’m wondering today, in the context of Matthew’s Gospel, if God has searched and searched for any persons who anticipate Messiah’s coming . . . and found only two: Joseph and Mary.

Luke reports Mary’s story, while Matthew tells the tale from Joseph’s side . . . visions, dreams, and visitations from heavenly messengers, leading to the birth of the Promised One, Emmanuel, God-with-us. As one of my friends likes to say, the incarnation simply means God con carne – God with meat (flesh) on – living among us.

Joseph and Mary open the door of their lives, willing to receive this gift, willing to bear this promise within themselves, willing to accept the cultural ridicule that would surely come their way. In the context of the rabbi’s tale, these two simple souls are the model of readiness for Messiah’s coming.


• As Christmas Eve and Christmas Day nears, identify within you pockets of hope and anticipation. Where does God’s dream still reside within you?

• Also, identify within you pockets of cynicism, doubt, and pessimism . . . perhaps related to a relationship . . . a larger community issue . . . or a matter of justice in the larger context of the nation or world.

• Bring whatever you notice within you into your prayer today.

Third Saturday of Advent - December 21, 2019

Luke 1:39-45


At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, where she entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. In a loud voice she exclaimed: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. 45 Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!”


• As Christmas draws near, anticipation builds. The passage is full of “blessing” and promises nearing fulfillment.

• Luke’s Gospel, more than the other Gospels, gives voice to the women in the story. Even in our day, we realize that not everyone in our world is given an opportunity to speak. Not all voices are honored.

• Today, be in touch with your voice. What would you say is your true voice? From where did that voice come? What does that voice sound like when you truly “speak” into the world (whether with your words, actions, life, or stance)?

• Think about some people you know or are around regularly who have little voice or power. What is it like for you to be around those persons? In what ways do you encourage their voice? If you were honest, are there ways in which you stifle their voice?

Fourth Sunday of Advent - December 23, 2018

Wombing New Life

Micah 5:1-4
Luke 1:39-45


The Gospel reading today repeats the reading from two days ago, December 21, the encounter of Mary and Elizabeth known as The Visitation.

Within both Elizabeth and Mary new life takes shape. As the narratives have suggested, God intervened in the lives of both women, making the impossible possible. They now share the same path, but at the same time walk very different paths.

The womb is a rich Advent symbol worth pondering, as it suggests gestation, waiting, preparation, and more. Birth takes time and only happens in the fullness of time.

Within the womb of each of us -- yes, female and male! -- God's life grows, taking shape over a long period of time, slowly forming apart from our machinations.

I do not see the shape of this new life within me, nor can I know exactly what it will be. I can only imagine and hope, and even then the final reality of new life will surprise me at birth . . . how different it is from my expectations and imaginings!

But as the new life grows within me, I want to be with others who can help nurture the life growing in me . . . who will help me be faithful to God, self, and others . . . who will support me and challenge me and provide the setting in which this life within me can grow to fullness.

In the middle of Rainer Maria Rilke's poem, "I am too alone in the world," some beautiful lines caught my attention 15 years ago as I was going through a significant passageway, when things I thought I could depend on were crumbling in my hands. I found these words in his poem and they became a lifeline for me.

. . . and in those quiet, sometimes hardly moving times,
when something is coming near,
I want to be with those who know secret things
or else alone.
[Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God, trans. by Macy and Burrows]

This is Mary going to Elizabeth, wanting to be with someone else who knows secret things, wanting the company of someone familiar with the mystery of Divine movements. It is any surprise that Mary's greeting upon entering the house causes Elizabeth's womb to awaken and stir with recognition? This is what happens among those who know secret things together.

Steve Garnaas-Holmes posted this poem a couple of days ago about this meeting of Mary and Elizabeth, and about our own wombing of new life into the world. (Find Steve at www.unfoldinglight.net)


When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting,
the child leaped in her womb.
—Luke 1.41

Two expecting mothers share a bond,
the recognition of the altered balance,
the spherical spirit, the parallel gaze,
companionship on a hard, bright path,
the magnificent power of giving life
that others can only surmise.

And yet that gaze, that bond, that power,
is yours.
We have too many religions of gods in clouds.
God does not enter the world from the stratosphere.
God enters from within, in each of us,
not might or magic, but in love.
Mary's genius was her insight
that the divine, the world-changing Holy,
emerges from us like a newborn child.
I bear it. You bear it. It's who we are.

The Beloved begs us to feel for the leap in us,
the divine child in us that knows
its sibling in another, that knows
we are connected in our power to give life.
Behold that in yourself, feel for the leap,
and know the bond that makes of all humanity,
all living creatures, one blessed womb.

Blessed are you among women,
and blessed is the fruit of your womb.
[Steve Garnaas-Holmes, www.unfoldinglight.net)

For Reflection:

Reflect on the part of this story that draws you into itself . . . or spend time with the lines from Rilke . . . or pray with the poem by Steve Garnaas-Holmes. There are many ways you may go today. The birth of Christ approaches. Spend time with whatever draws you today.

Third Saturday of Advent - December 22, 2018

Singing from the Underside

1 Samuel 1:24-28, 2:1-11
Luke 1:46-56


Those who have a lot -- power, possessions, influence, education -- don't often see or appreciate life-altering shifts in the landscape. In fact, life-altering shifts can threaten the much-ness they have. Mostly for these people, life consists of consolidating and maintaining the abundance one has.

Those who are accustomed to others giving heed to their words or positions sometimes find it easy to flip-flop, to say what is merely expedient, to satisfy the whims of the moment in order to maintain their place in the establishment. Though politicians certainly come to mind as susceptible to this here-one-day-gone-the-next kind of wobbly speech, anyone in a position of influence is prone to it.

After awhile, speech flattens out. We turn off our receptors, because it begins to sound like just another day of blah blah blah, blah blah blah.

But listen to someone speak who has been empty and has now experienced fullness. Their song sounds fresh, energetic, alive . . . full of Spirit! This person has known barrenness firsthand . . . has lived most of life underneath . . . has been squashed by the Impossibles. Now she sings!!

In today's readings, watch Hannah -- long barren and childless -- dedicate her new son to God, then sing in thanks and praise.

Hear Mary sing her song from the underside, the perspective of someone who has been at the bottom of the social order (as a woman, a peasant, a virgin) and has experienced firsthand the graciousness of God. Attend to her words. Listen to her song. Nothing here is measured and predictable. These prayers are alive!!


And Mary said:

“My soul glorifies the Lord
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant.

From now on all generations will call me blessed,
for the Mighty One has done great things for me — holy is his name.

His mercy extends to those who fear him,
from generation to generation.

He has performed mighty deeds with his arm; , s
he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.

He has brought down rulers from their thrones
but has lifted up the humble.

He has filled the hungry with good things
but has sent the rich away empty.

He has helped his servant Israel,
remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his descendants forever,
just as he promised our ancestors.”

Mary stayed with Elizabeth for about three months and then returned home.
(Luke 1:46-56, NIV)


For Reflection:

At a workshop last year, I heard Anna Carter Florence -- Professor of Preaching at Columbia Theological Seminary -- suggest we would do well in reading scripture to attend more closely to the verbs. Most of us gravitate to the nouns, to the who, what, and where of the text. The verbs though, represent the text's movement, action, and drive.

Today, attend to the verbs in Mary's song. List the verbs (brought down, lifted up, filled, sent, helped, etc.). This is not a grammar lesson, but a step into prayer. Pray with these words that describe God's action in the world.

Third Friday of Advent - December 21, 2018

The Open Space

Luke 1:39-45


In Luke 1:36, the angel Gabriel seeks to convince a hesitant Mary that she indeed will have a child. As one of his corroborating claims, he tells Mary that her cousin Elizabeth is expecting a child even at her advanced age.

In those days, then, after the encounter with Gabriel, Mary hurries to see Elizabeth. Both women are in awkward places . . . Elizabeth as an aging mother-to-be . . . and Mary as a too-young, too-virgin mother-to-be. No doubt both were joyful, but also more than a bit concerned about their situations. Together they could support and comfort each other, as well as share their joy. Few others would understand their strange predicaments and few would be sympathetic to their situations.

Their meeting, though, includes a surprising confirmation of God's work. When Elizabeth hears Mary's greeting, the child within her leaps in recognition and joy. Perhaps the greeting was the typical Hebrew, "shalom."

But it may as well have been the ancient "namaste" . . . "the Divine living in me greets the Divine living in you."

Theotokos (God-bearer) icons often depict Mary holding Jesus. Some depict Jesus in Mary's womb. This icon, based on the Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth, depicts the new life within the wombs of both women. Both bear new life.

In 1965, Thomas Merton wrote about the deepest, most interior and hidden center within each of us. He called it le point vierge, literally "the virgin point." But the French phrase might better be translated the open center or the waiting space. This open space at our core is where we are most deeply and intimately connected to God, where none of our usual humanness selfishness litters, but where we are completely open to God . . . that place within us which only God can access, available only to God.

This is what Merton says:

Again, that expression, le point vierge, (I cannot translate it) comes in here. At the center of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin and by illusion, a point of pure truth, a point or spark which belongs entirely to God, which is never at our disposal, from which God disposes of our lives, which is inaccessible to the fantasies of our own mind or the brutalities of our own will. This little point of nothingness and of absolute poverty is the pure glory of God in us. It is so to speak His name written in us, as our poverty, as our indigence, as our dependence, as our sonship. It is like a diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven. It is in everybody, and if we could see it we would see these billions of points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish completely. . . . I have no program for this seeing. It is only given. But the gate of heaven is everywhere.
[Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, (New York: Image, 1965), 158.]

It seems to me that these two women knew well le point vierge and that they each said their, "Yes!" to it.

As the Christian mystics have reminded us through the centuries, "Like recognizes like." The new life within Elizabeth recognizes the new life in Mary . . . and the life Mary bears recognizes the life Elizabeth bears.


For Reflection:

** Perhaps today you would greet Mary with the words of the Christian mystic, Hildegard of Bingen:

Mary, ground of all being,
Greetings!
Greetings to you lovely and loving Mother!
You birthed to earth your Son.
You birthed the Son of God from heaven
by breathing the Spirit of God.

** What within you leaps when Mary enters the room? Ponder that image for a moment.

** In what concrete way are you theotokos (a bearer of God) this Advent?

Third Thursday of Advent - December 20, 2018

Let It Be

Psalm 24
Isaiah 7:10-14
Luke 1:26-38


Luke 1:26-38 may be my favorite story in all of scripture. I never tire of reading it. I'll point out two things that stir me this Advent as I listen to the story yet again.

First, Gabriel announces to Mary that she is the "graced one" and that "God is with her." The usual translation, "favored one" misleads us. The idea of "favor" implies that some are not favored. The Greek word used twice in the passage is the root word for "grace."

Mary is the graced one. I have heard sermons about how beautiful Mary was, how innocent, how childlike . . . all products of fertile contemporary imaginations. In fact, some within the Christian tradition have built elaborate theological systems around Mary's sinlessness and virtue, suggesting this is why God chose her.

I'm not saying any of those things are untrue; however, if any of these imagined virtues become the basis for God choosing her, then this is not longer grace. It becomes merit and earning.

Grace is God's bestowal of God's self upon the world, with no regard for who deserves and who doesn't deserve. In fact, in the economy of grace, there is no such thing as deserving or undeserving.

(If it is God and grace you are talking about, you cannot even say, "God comes to the least deserving." There is no category of deserving or undeserving with God . . . only imperfect people who need to return to their grounding in God.)

Grace is the Farmer scattering seed on the entire field, broadcasting it wildly, freely, wastefully, and extravagantly, without regard for the state of the field . . . whether the soil is rocky, weed-filled, hard-pan, or tilled. (Mark 4:1-8)

So yes, Mary is graced and God is with her. But this isn't an announcement of something new. Rather, these words remind Mary -- and us -- of what is true always and everywhere. The words of grace and God's presence are true just as much of you and me as they are true of Mary. For this reason, the Christian spiritual life is not about acquiring something new, but about seeing, opening up, and receiving what God has already said and done . . . seeing ourselves as graced and knowing always that God is with us.

Second, Mary's response to Gabriel's announcement is simple acceptance, a quiet "Yes!" . . . "Let it be to me as you have said."

In my imagination, I often wonder if Gabriel visited other Galilean girls with the same greeting, only to be told, "No, I won't do it." Mary said "Yes."

"Let it be" is not a statement of resignation. Rather, the words declare an openness to join in and to partner with God in this world-altering event. They signify Mary's willingness to go to a place she had never been before, to explore whatever lay beyond the bounds of her imagination, and to trust God. She willingly steps into the unknown with God.

For decades I assumed that Sir Paul McCartney's "Let It Be" remembered this Mary, the mother of Jesus.

When I find myself in times of trouble,
Mother Mary comforts me;
Speaking words of wisdom:
Let it be.

Only recently I heard Sir Paul say in an interview that "Mother Mary" was his own mother. She died when he was young, and in a time when he was particularly despondent over her death, she appeared to him one night in a dream to comfort him. "Let it be," she said.

"Let it be in me" . . . that's pretty good counsel, whether from Mary, mother of Jesus . . . or Mary, mother of Sir Paul.


For Reflection:

** Hear the message Gabriel spoke to Mary as if the angel spoke it over you: "Behold, graced one; God is with you." Meditate on those words as you hear them spoken into you.

** In what ways do you need to say to God today, "Let it be in me as you have said"? Consider one or two specific areas of your life right now. If you are honestly able to speak these words to God, do so.

Third Tuesday of Advent - December 18, 2018

The Story within The Story

Jeremiah 23:5-8
Matthew 1:18-24


As the day of Jesus' birth nears, the Advent readings speak more directly of his coming. The stories, repeated each Advent, tell a familiar tale. If we are not intentional during the season, we may sleepwalk through these familiar texts and miss their life-altering message.

We return to them each year, though, because in some ways they contain the whole Gospel in a nutshell. In a sense, the acorn-like birth narratives become the Gospel oak tree. The birth stories introduce themes that Jesus will deal with throughout his life. Matthew 1:18-24 is a wonderful.

** The birth story begins in scandal and hints of illegitimacy . . . a mysterious pregnancy not easily explained to family, friends, and the religious authorities. Likewise, scandal will follow Jesus throughout his short life as his teaching stirs controversy, as he keeps company with persons of disrepute, and mostly as he claims to have the authority of God. He will be charged with lacking legitimacy, of not having the proper credentials to speak on God's behalf.

** Matthew makes sure we hear at the beginning of the Gospel that Jesus is Immanuel, God with us. Then Matthew reminds us again, when he ends the Gospel with Jesus' words after the resurrection: "Behold, I am with you always." (And always means always!)

** In Matthew's version of the birth account, Joseph chooses compassion and mercy in his care of Mary, rather than legalism and judgment. (A public hearing to determine the origins of her pregnancy would have been common in his time.) Likewise, throughout his life Jesus will bring mercy and compassion to life-situations in which others call out for judgment.

** Joseph wakes up. In a dream, Joseph is given eyes to see what the Spirit is engineering through this birth, then he awakens from that dream. However, more than simply opening his eyes from physical sleep, Joseph sees the Divine dimension in the events unfolding around him. He sees through the actual events to their interior. Again, this will be the very perception Jesus tries to instill in God's people, that we have "eyes to see and ears to hear." In fact, Anthony de Mello said this is the core of Jesus' entire message: "Wake up!!"


For Reflection:

Take something you've read today and bring it into your prayer and meditation. You may simply rest in this familiar story, allowing wonder and gratitude to bubble up within you.

The Fourth Thursday of Advent -- December 22, 2011

Luke 1:46 - 56

And Mary said:
“My soul glorifies the Lord
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has been mindful
of the humble state of his servant.
From now on all generations will call me blessed,
for the Mighty One has done great things for me—
holy is his name.
His mercy extends to those who fear him,
from generation to generation.
He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;
he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.
He has brought down rulers from their thrones
but has lifted up the humble.
He has filled the hungry with good things
but has sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
remembering to be merciful
to Abraham and his descendants forever,
just as he promised our ancestors.”

Mary stayed with Elizabeth for about three months and then returned home.


This Song of Mary has been prayed by the Church for centuries. It is known as the Magnificat (Latin for "magnifies") and is a part of the daily prayer offered in churches, homes and monasteries in the Liturgy of the Hours (or the Divine Office, what I have described elsewhere as a kind of "touchpoint" prayer).

Two things about the prayer stand out to me today. Both speak to Mary's stance toward God.

First, with the exception of the first two lines, Mary's song was about what God does in the world. In the first two lines Mary sang, "My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God." That is, grammatically she is the subject of each line: "My soul glorifies" and "My spirit rejoices."

But in the rest of the song God is the subject of each statement. She witnessed to the work of God in the world. It seems like an important piece of the prayer to meditate on . . . that Mary located God at the center of life, as the initiator and sustainer of the world. God is squarely placed as the Source and Wellspring of life.

Second, notice that when Mary placed God as the subject of the goodness that breaks out in the world, she only mentioned God's goodness towards her one time. She was not fixated on "what the Lord has done for me," though she acknowledged that "the Might One has done great things for me."

Rather, Mary was busy noticing what God was doing in the world . . . among those who were powerful and proud . . . with rulers and among the humble . . . giving goodness to those who were hungry and creating hunger for goodness in those who had much . . . helping and remembering God's people.

This seems to be a radical departure from the contemporary practice of measuring God and/or spirituality by my life, my growth, my perception. So much of faith becomes egocentric, wrapped up in I, me, my and mine.

Yes, there is an inward dimension to spirituality that is necessary, but there is also the movement outward in Christian spirituality, away from self toward what God is doing in the world. Spirituality gives us eyes to see those God-fingerprints and feet to follow those God-footprints. Mary had a sensitivity to God's work, and she prayed it.

Her sight was not limited or provincial, but was much broader, much more expansive. She saw God alive and working in the world, and doing so in a way that most people missed.

Her prayer is worth spending time with these four days before Christmas.

The Fourth Wednesday of Advent -- December 21, 2011

Luke 1:39 - 45

At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, where she entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. In a loud voice she exclaimed: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!”


"Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!"

There are moments when I'll believe anything from God, when I can hear and trust even the most improbable things from God's hand.

A few years ago, before I was a part of The Center for Christian Spirituality, I had a vision for building a retreat center and out of that facility offering retreats, classes, spiritual direction, workshops, conferences . . . basically all the things I now have the opening to do through The Center for Christian Spirituality in Houston.

I met with architects and builders in order to hear about costs and projections. I wanted to know how large the mountain was that I was about to climb. Serious. I believed this thing was going to happen, and any day!

The cost? $20 million. At least, that's what I heard. So I prayed the $20 million. It started off sounding far away. To this day, I have no idea what $20 million looks like, but -- I'm serious -- it seemed like no big deal to me. I was convinced that God wanted this retreat center to happen, and I was sold out that God would provide whatever was needed to bring it to pass.

Talk about faith!?!? I believed in this!

[It's a different meditation if I have to write about the perils of claiming something is God's will, or that I've heard God's voice, or that I'm following God's calling . . . and then come in on the back side to realize that it wasn't God's voice at all, but rather Jerry's wishes. I'll save that reflection for another time.]

Then I went to another meeting with an architect, and he said something like, "This $2 million has really put this project out of reach. I don't think it's going to happen."

TWO million?? What?? Are you kidding me? I've been wrestling with this thing for TWENTY million, and you're telling me that $2 million is out of reach?

Well, the retreat center did not happen, not for $20 or even $2 million. Instead, God opened doors at Chapelwood United Methodist Church in Houston to begin The Center for Christian Spirituality.

[By the way . . . I've noticed how quick God was to get me out of the fund-raising business!!]

My point is that for a moment in time, I believed. I really believed. I trusted that "all things are possible with God." I've had other short moments of that kind of trust along the way, maybe not as grand as that one example, but a few here and there where I've really trusted that God was big enough to do what seemed impossible to me.

But I don't really live there all the time. Those moments, for me anyway, give way to the rest of my life, to all the undulations of daily life, to the ordinary tasks of each day and the mundane details of daily living. It's very easy for me to lose an "all-things-are-possible" mentality in favor of ordinariness. I don't intend that life be this way, it just is. I'm up and down, trusting and not trusting, hearing then deaf, seeing then blind.

So it's one thing for Mary to believe God's design when Gabriel shows up on her doorstep and invites her to step into this venture with God. She says, "Yes." She believes. "Here I am, your servant. Let it be done to me as you have said."

It's another thing for Mary to continue to live into this design, to continue to step into this invitation from God . . . even when life is very normal, very routine . . . like when she's visiting friends and relatives (Elizabeth). When Mary shows up in this text, she is still living into the invitation that Gabriel offered, even though he is now off the scene. Mary seems to trust, even in the mundane things of life.

I've heard Paula d'Arcy say, "God comes to us disguised as life." Trusting the extraordinary in the midst of the ordinary is not always easy. In fact, rarely is it easy.

But there is another thing in this passage that strikes me. It is Elizabeth recognizing and affirming Mary's trust. Elizabeth blessed Mary for holding her faith, continuing on in trust, even though she doesn't fully understand what that means. In acknowledging Mary's bent toward God and her ongoing belief in what God had promised, Elizabeth blessed Mary.

The Fourth Tuesday of Advent -- December 20, 2011

Luke 1:26 - 38

In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”

Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”

“How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”

The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. For no word from God will ever fail.”

“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May it be to me according to your word.” Then the angel left her.


This passage, which was the Gospel reading for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, is repeated today.

I wrote two days ago about Mary and the elaborate back-story the Church constructed centuries ago about her life, as if to justify her "favor" with God on the basis of her merits. In short, the Church formulated a "history" for Mary that was pristine enough that she stood out as the one who deserved to be the Holy Mother of God. As I said then, that historical reconfiguring of her life doesn't witness to God's grace, but rather to her goodness. I don't think that's how God works in human life. Grace and favor are always about God's choosing, not Mary's deserving or our deserving.

Further, I don't need that back-story to know that Mary is perhaps the best New Testament model for the contemplative life available to us. She modeled a life of radical trust and union with God. Let me explain.

She was simple. She realized she had not earned this "favor." She took things that happened to her and around her, and she "pondered them in her heart." She "treasured them in her heart." That is, she didn't make a huge, public show of her connection to God. She didn't parade her interior life in the public eye. She didn't make a fuss about what she notices of God's work in the world. She didn't flaunt her holiness. She didn't showcase her experience of the Divine in front of others. Rather, she drew her God-experience into her heart and let it incubate there.

Mary did what her Son would later suggest we all do when we go to prayer. In the Sermon on the Mount he taught us not to pray in a way that draws attention to ourselves (on the street corners and busy intersections of life), but to withdraw to our secret room, that is, to our inner room where we meet the Father in private.

Mary got it.

She is a esteemed as the Mother of God not because of the intricate story the Church imaginatively told about her, but because of what we know from the report of Scripture.

In fact, her words at the conclusion of this text are probably the best mantra for the contemplative life I know. They state simply and succinctly the essence of life with God, the very fundamentals of union with God.

"Here I am. Let it be with me according to your word." Or, "Let it be to me as you have said."

Here I am. I am where I am. My soul is not in the past, locked into old narratives. Neither am I living in the future. I am not in some other geographical location. I am where I am, physically and spiritually. I am who I am.

It is a real gift for any of us to say, "Here I am," to be present without distractions, to allow all the aspects of our personhood (body, mind, soul and spirit) to show up in the same place at the same time.

This is so hard for me to do, but Mary not only said it. She did it.

Let it be with me according to your word. A surrender. But more, an openness to the design of God in her life, to the action of God which was mysterious and beyond her comprehension. Yet, she did not shut out God's hand. She did not close the door to God's invitation.

This is the stance of the contemplative, who steps into the cloud or walks into the darkness not knowing what is ahead, not knowing what she will find, but trusting the One who calls and invites, believing that even if the Divine work is not fully understood, it is still good and life-giving. Even when the God-path is unrecognizable, it is still a path that leads to life, wholeness, and the essence of what it means to be fully human.

You might want to make these two simple sentences your prayer for the next week. Carry the prayer on your heart. Whisper it with your lips. Let the depth of the prayer anchor you for the week.

"Here I am. Let it be to me as you have said."

The Fourth Sunday of Advent -- December 18, 2011

Luke 1:26 - 38

In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”

Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”

“How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”

The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. For no word from God will ever fail.”

“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May it be to me according to your word.” Then the angel left her.


"Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you." . . . "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God."

Mary was perplexed and pondered the words. I imagine myself receiving this greeting, this statement of being favored by God.

What did I do to deserve this?

Why am I favored?

I immediately want to make the "favor" about something I've earned, a reward for some kind of good I have done or something I have accomplished.

"I've been faithful in my little bit . . . so now I'm receiving some favor." There is a deep well of that kind of deserving living within me.

The Church didn't help us with this one through the centuries, making up an elaborate back-story about Mary and her lineage with the intent of showing how perfect Mary was, how spotless and sinless she was. The point was to suggest that Mary was chosen for this role because she deserved to be chosen by God . . . that this was a reward for her meticulous and morally perfect life.

The implicit message was that you could only be chosen by God if you were morally perfect. You could only be "favored" if you were sinless. You could only bear God's Son in the world if you measured up. You could only receive God's grace if you were completely blameless.

Many of us have lived underneath these overt and subtle messages from the Church for a lifetime. We have heard the messages and internalized them, so that now the message of deserving and perfection comes not only from the Church, it also comes from within us.

Followers of Christ everywhere have lived under these false, "anti-grace" messages for centuries.

If indeed the choosing of Mary by God was a graced choosing, then the Church's imaginary back-story has to be thrown out.

You get a hint of the radical grace (the language of "favor") in the story by noticing Mary's reaction to the "grace-greeting." She was perplexed. She had to ponder it. Apparently, she couldn't find any rational reason for the choosing. She couldn't understand what she had done to deserve this "favor" or grace.

If the Church through the centuries had really allowed this to be a story of grace, the back-story about Mary might have remembered that she was a rebellious teenager, often in trouble with parents and authority figures, and living counter to the social (and religious!) norms of her day.

In fact -- though I have no evidence for my imaginative re-interpretation -- the scenario I have suggested may be closer to Mary's truth . . . which would explain, perhaps, her perplexity at Gabriel's greeting, and what she had to ponder in her heart.

Because in the end, for whatever her actual history, the "favoring" did not rest on Mary's merits, but on the God who extended the "favoring."

Likewise, when I enter the passage and hear that I, too, am favored, this favoring does not exist because of what I have done or who I am; but rather it comes to me (and you!) because of who God is. That's how it always is.

I don't need to understand it or analyze it or pick it apart. I am invited simply to rest in it. Like Mary . . . "Here I am . . . let it be to me as you have said."

The Fourth Wednesday of Advent -- December 22, 2010

Luke 1:46 - 56

And Mary said:

“My soul glorifies the Lord
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has been mindful
of the humble state of his servant.

From now on all generations will call me blessed,
for the Mighty One has done great things for me—
holy is his name.

His mercy extends to those who fear him,
from generation to generation.

He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;
he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.

He has brought down rulers from their thrones
but has lifted up the humble.

He has filled the hungry with good things
but has sent the rich away empty.

He has helped his servant Israel,
remembering to be merciful
to Abraham and his descendants forever,
just as he promised our ancestors.”

Mary stayed with Elizabeth for about three months and then returned home.


Much Christian Scripture arises out of a predominantly male-dominated culture. For centuries scholars have assumed male authorship even for anonymously-written books of the Bible. There is little doubt that in both Old Testament and New Testament narratives males play a primary role.

Some people hinge an entire theology of gender on the Apostle Paul and some of his letters to the early Churches. With a surface reading of Paul's letters, many feel that Paul elevates men over women and encourages a kind of "chain of command" in which men legitimately stand over women. It's not an uncommon view within the Church.

I've also met a number of people through the years who carry an extreme dislike for Paul because of his supposed male bias. They hate Paul because they think he hated women.

If you know that the culture of the biblical narratives was biased toward men, it becomes even more significant when you run into passages where women are featured, where females stand center stage.

The Old Testament reading for today is from I Samuel 1 - 2 and tells the story of Hannah, who in her barrenness cried out to God for a child. Hannah stood front and center as the major character in the story that brought Samuel onto the scene. Samuel ended up being a central figure in Old Testament religion.

The Gospel reading is Mary's Magnificat, her glorifying or magnifying God for what God was doing in her life and in the world. She sings this song that celebrates God's action among all people, bringing God's light to shine upon all people.

We need to read Mary's words. They speak to God raising up the little and bringing down the big. They report on God's feeding the hungry and sending the satisfied away empty. Throughout the Magnificat there is a huge leveling. God is making even, bringing life to equilibrium. In fact, what Mary sings in this song is a microcosm of what God did in her life. She is merely singing her personal experience of God.

I'm a white male. For the most part, throughout my lifetime people have listened to me . . . because of the positions I've held, the roles I've been in, the jobs in which I've been employed.

I notice, though, that when people don't listen to me or give heed to my words and ideas, I get rather impatient. It frustrates me. I'm not used to being ignored. In recent years, when that happens, I've connected my experience to the experience of billions of people on the planet who, like Mary, for the most part are not listened to. They have little voice. What I experience occasionally, they experience all the time.

Occasionally I'm asked to speak in settings that challenge my voice because the audience is filled with persons (females, African-Americans, Latino-Americans, or others) who have a voice but have never had the opportunity to speak their own truth. When that happens -- I was in that kind of setting last Saturday -- as a white male I always feel that I need to sit down and shut up so I can hear the voices of those who have not been given opportunity to let their voice be heard.

It occurred to me Saturday as I talked about the birth of Christ, for instance, that the females in the audience, and those of African descent, and those of Latino descent, would hear the story of the nativity very differently than I do. They would see things and hear things that I would surely miss. Why can't I sit down and listen to those "Mary's," and let them teach me?

When you read the Magnificat, don't read it as a document of privilege. Read it as a song of freedom, a song sung from the underside. Mary was not in the place of the male, one-up. She was one-down, underneath, yet still finding and expressing her voice.

Perhaps her song will give you cause to hear the songs of others in your world who are in her position this Christmas, without much voice in our world, yet with something vitally important to say.