Although not a parent myself, I believe that it would be safe to say that there are certain “benchmarks” that parents celebrate as a child develops and learns. One of the first would probably be the ability to walk unassisted. I have seen the wondrous joy of both the child and the parents as they participate in this auspicious occasion – anticipation followed by bewilderment perhaps at the novelty of locomotion… and then delight, ending more than likely with a startling collapse in supposed achievement. When I was young, I didn’t learn to walk immediately due to an infection that I caught in the hospital. Mom had to keep me in the playpen for my big toe to heal. But, I am told that once I could walk, I was very adventurous and loved to wander off many times and find secret places to explore and sometimes to nap. Occasionally, this still happens in my adult life!
The final week of Advent closing fast on the imminent Christmas season continues with the story of babies and expectant mothers. In the first reading (1 SM 1:24-28), we hear how Hannah, after bitterly and fervently praying to the Lord, dedicates her son Samuel to the Lord as a response for the Lord’s kindness and faithfulness in removing her barrenness. The scripture selection ends abruptly with “She left Samuel there.” There seems to be a lot to ponder here about this act of “abandonment” that Hannah performs.
And then, in Luke’s Gospel (LK 1:46-56), we hear the beautiful and radical hymn of Mary that she proclaims in the presence of Elizabeth her cousin. Mary has just arrived and Elizabeth, with extreme elation, has expressed her delight that the mother of her Lord should visit her! Here, like Hannah, is another once-barren mother delighting in the abundant grace granted her. A grace that calls forth and actually is only made possible through abandonment. And this abandonment seems grounded in both risk and trust – the power of vulnerability!
There are so many layers of meaning in this astounding canticle, which (as Richard Rohr points out) was prohibited from being recited during public protests in Argentina, due to its revolutionary character. It’s at once both personal and communal.
“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord;
my spirit rejoices in God my savior.
for he has looked upon his lowly servant.
From this day all generations will call me blessed:
the Almighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his Name.
He has mercy on those who fear him
in every generation.
He has shown the strength of his arm,
and has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has cast down the mighty from their thrones
and has lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has come to the help of his servant Israel
for he remembered his promise of mercy,
the promise he made to our fathers,
to Abraham and his children for ever.”
One of the striking elements of it for me, as I read it now, is the very opening line. The depth of Mary’s being “proclaims the greatness of the Lord.” Her soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord. This is a magnification, a growing reality that cannot help but burst forth. Mary’s “fiat,” or embracing, of what Gabriel told her in the Annunciation now is vividly revealed. Mary’s abandonment is an extreme vulnerability that paradoxically is the most “powerful” position that one can find be in.
The “ground” of the Lord’s presence in our lives is ironically the barrenness of our lives, the brokenness, the fragility, the lowliness. So the strength of the Lord in a strange way actually “depends” upon us and our willingness to let the Spirit work in and ultimately through us. And, the only way to do that is, in a way, to get out of the way! And what needs to get out of the way, many times are the functioning mis-understandings that we promote in our world concerning power, might, wealth, and strength. When the lies about power, pride strength and conceit begin to be “scattered” and “cast down” within our souls, it’s simultaneously happening also in the larger communities – our families, our churches, our cities, nations, and outward into the universe! Could this be the “promise of mercy” that we are recognizing and engaging in this year of Mercy? The greatness of the Lord is always magnified in the community when we respond as individuals. We do affect one another!
And, here’s the hope for me in all this. It’s baby steps. If we take one step forward and fall down, that’s alright. We can always get back up, and always with the help of others. It’s the simple and small first steps of a child that we are asked to make. And this is the radical pregnancy that can bring such overwhelming wonder and joy when we recognize it! The vulnerable abandon to Trust…that wanders across the floor in the first steps of a baby!
Peace,
Thomas
